Chapter 18

18

W hen Lorinda arrived on the board walk outside the hotel, Franklin and Rusty were loading the luggage into the buggy. "What a surprise to find you out here, Rusty."

For the first time, she saw the cowboy blush.

"Thought you and the boss would want to ride home in the buggy...Mrs. Vine."

The name, coming from one of the ranch hands, stopped Lorinda for a moment. She would have to get used to hearing people call her Mrs. Vine, instead of Lorinda or Mrs. Sullivan. With the deception attached to the wedding, the name didn't feel like it fit. Lord, please help me. S ince they were lying about their marriage, would He listen to her?

"That was thoughtful of you." Lorinda tried to smile, but it felt tight.

"I brought Mrs. Oleson to town. She has several things to do today." He climbed up on the driver's seat. "I'm gonna drive you home, and I'll come back later to pick her up in the wagon. She's buying supplies, too."

Franklin leaned close to her ear. "That explains why we have a ride." The scent of cinnamon from their breakfast came with his breath.

He clasped her waist between his strong hands and lifted her to the buggy seat as if she were as light as a butterfly. Her stomach fluttered like the beautiful insect as well. Why did just the feel of his hands always cause some kind of unusual reaction in her person?

"Thank you, Franklin." She arranged her skirt without looking at him.

"My pleasure, Mrs. Vine ."

The emphasis he placed on the last two words intensified the feelings that unsettled her. She peeked at him, and his smoldering smile lit a fire in her heart. She knew he was only playing a part in front of the people who were out and about in town, but something deep inside wished it wasn't so.

Franklin climbed up and settled close beside her. "We're ready, Rusty."

As the buggy rolled out of town, many people turned to stare at them. Most wore smiles. A few had a kind of smirk that made her uncomfortable.

Lorinda felt she was on display, and she didn't like it. When they finally left the town behind, she relaxed. Even though the morning was heating up, the speed of the horses stirred a breeze that kept her cool.

For some reason, everything looked different today. The tall trees were greener. Wildflowers covered meadows with a myriad of colors, as if God had taken a paintbrush and splashed various hues across the fields. Birds sailed high in the sky against a cerulean backdrop for the few cottony clouds that floated lazily as if on a slow-moving river. Enjoying the fresh air, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Franklin leaned closer and put his arm across the back of the seat. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." The word whispered at the end of her exhale.

No, you're too close to me. Her gaze fell to her hands clasped in her lap. The faint aroma of the Bay Rum Oil he used yesterday still lingered, along with the unique masculine scent she'd become familiar with since she lived at the Rocking V. She wanted to turn away but didn't want him to notice.

"Are you sure?" The words blew against her ear.

When did he move that close? If she turned her head up toward him, their lips might almost touch...maybe they would. Maybe she wanted to see if that kiss yesterday was a fluke. But could her heart take it? The memory of the feelings she'd only experienced that one time flooded over her, bringing back the fire in her belly and capturing her breath.

How far are we from the ranch? She glanced around but couldn't tell for sure. Finally, she raised her eyes to peek at him. A frown wrinkled his brow and drew his lips down. He almost looked worried.

"Yes, I'm sure." She sat up as straight as she could...with his arm around her shoulders.

When had he put it there instead of on the back of the seat? Lorinda was more unsettled than at any time since she came to the ranch. Maybe she should have taken her money and gold and fled instead of agreeing to marry him.

They couldn't get home soon enough for her, so he'd move.

Home? Yes, she felt at home on the Rocking V, and Franklin had said the ranch belonged to her as much as to him.

At least her son would have an inheritance that was worth more than two small pokes of gold pebbles.

With his arm lightly touching Lorinda's shoulders, Franklin wanted more. Every spot on his arm where they touched tingled with the connection. Half of his heart wanted to cling to her until he could convince her to be his completely, the other half, to keep his distance. What a dichotomy! Yesterday and today must be an aberration. The sooner they got back to the ranch, the sooner things would settle down to what they'd been before the wedding...with a few modifications. Modifications that shouldn't affect the way he ran his ranch...or his family.

"Franklin, can we go to Stella's and pick up Michael?" Lorinda's quiet words penetrated his thought processes, bringing them to a halt. "I really miss him."

Why not? "Rusty, keep driving to the Morgan Ranch. That should still give you plenty of time to get us home and back to town before Mrs. Oleson is finished with...whatever she's doing."

"Sure, Boss."

Franklin didn't want to make a fuss in front of Lorinda about Rusty calling him that, so once again he let it slide. Was everything in his life changing, just because he made a business-like deal with...his wife?

Someone saw them driving up, because Stella came out on the front porch before they reached the house. She held Michael, and the baby's hands swatted through the air in a way that touched Franklin's heart. He was glad Lorinda wanted to come get her...their son. He'd missed seeing the little man. He wanted to get back to their rituals at mealtime when he played with Michael while the women got the food on the table.

He jumped down from the buggy, then reached back to help Lorinda. Her waist was tiny for a woman who'd had a baby less than four months ago. She practically ran toward the front porch.

Stella met her at the bottom of the steps and handed off Michael. "I was just about to feed him."

Lorinda turned toward Franklin. "Do we have time for me to feed him before we head to the ranch?"

He glanced at Rusty.

His ranch hand nodded. "I won't have to be back to town until mid-afternoon."

"Rand is out in the barn checking on a new colt." Stella held her hand up to shade her eyes from the sun.

"Let's go." Franklin nodded at Rusty, and the two men headed toward the large red building that housed the growing herd of Thoroughbred horses.

Rand's horses were known all over Colorado and even out of the state. He sold to the U.S. cavalry and other ranchers. His choice to change from cattle to raising the horses had carried him through the slowing economy so far. He didn't own as much land as Franklin did, so he hadn't been able to sustain as many cattle as were needed to keep a ranch afloat. Franklin was thankful his father and grandfather had the foresight to add so much land to the Rocking V. All the viable ranch land in the area was owned by someone, and people didn't decide to move away very often.

Now he had something else, besides his pretty new wife, to capture his thoughts...at least, he hoped so.

What bliss, sitting in a comfortable rocking chair, nursing my wonderful son. Lorinda didn't plan to spend another night away from him. Especially not a night and early morning that was as awkward as this last one had been.

"I've made us lemonade." Stella bustled in carrying a tray with a pitcher and two glasses. "We didn't use all the lemons at the wedding."

"Thank you. Today is already plenty hot." Lorinda cast another glance at her son, nestled in her arm, before she took the cold glass. "Where did you get the ice?"

Lorinda knew they had an ice house in town, but by the time they would try to bring it to the ranch, the block would be melted.

"When Rand built the ranch house, he also turned a cave not far from the house into ice storage." Stella took a sip before continuing. "A cave is naturally cooler, and he layers sawdust to cover the blocks of ice the men cut from a small lake we own. We have ice all summer long."

"I wonder why Franklin doesn't have an ice house." She set her glass on the pie crust table beside her chair and snuggled Michael even closer.

Stella glanced out the window toward the barn. "I'm sure he'll make one for you if you ask him. From what we all saw yesterday, the man's completely crazy about you, as he should be."

Yes, he should be, but he isn't. "He's done a lot for Michael and me, so I don't want to be too demanding." That should end this conversation about ice...and heat .

A merry, lyrical laugh burst from Stella. "Honey, after the way that man kissed you yesterday, in front of God and everyone..."

Lorinda couldn't stop a blush from rushing heat to her cheeks. Probably part of the fire the man lit inside her.

"I'm sure last night was even hotter than usual." A wicked grin spread across her friend's face. "I'm glad Franklin has finally gotten over Miriam and what she did to him. The man deserves a loving wife like you."

Lorinda wished a hole would open up and swallow her. This kind of conversation is what she'd been dreading. Of course, having a friend like Stella might come in handy. Since she was speaking so openly about things that usually were kept quiet, maybe she could find out who Miriam was and what it was she did to him. She was tired of fighting the jealousy whenever someone mentioned that woman's name. Now how should I approach the subject?

She placed a diaper on her shoulder and held her son against it. With rhythmic patting on his back, he should soon release the air from his stomach.

"Stella, I shouldn't be asking you, but I want to know about something, and I don't want to upset Franklin or Mrs. Oleson by asking."

Stella set her glass of lemonade on the table beside her chair. "That's what friends are for, and you know I consider you a good friend. How can I help you?"

Here goes. She took a deep breath while she formulated the question. "No one has ever told me what happened with this Miriam. Her name has only been mentioned a time or two at the ranch and then skipped over. So what happened?"

Stella stared at her a moment. "You really should know. I don't know why Franklin didn't tell you. It might keep you from having trouble in your relationship."

"That's right." She didn't want the other woman to stop.

"Franklin, Miriam, and Marvin Pratt grew up together. Marvin was Franklin's best friend, or so he thought. I always thought something was kind of off with Marvin...that he wasn't sincere as he should be. And I guess I was right." She twisted her skirt with her fingertips. "Miriam and Franklin were to be married. Such a lot of plans were made. It was going to be the largest wedding ever in these parts. Franklin almost worshiped the ground she walked on."

Stella arose from her chair and went to the front door, where she stood studying something outside. Then she turned back. "Two weeks before the wedding, Marvin and Miriam eloped."

That wasn't what Lorinda expected. Poor Franklin. No wonder he had made that declaration to her. He didn't know if he could trust any woman. He must have built a wall around his heart. But why did he kiss her the way he did if he didn't want any kind of romantic or physical relationship with her?

Tears seeped from her eyes and down her cheeks as her son gave a loud burp. She nestled him at her other breast and began rocking him as he nursed.

"I didn't mean to upset you. Maybe I shouldn't have told you." Stella pulled a clean hanky from her sleeve and pressed it into Lorinda's hand.

"I'm crying for the hurt Franklin must have experienced." She patted the cotton square against her cheeks. "I'm glad you told me. I understand some things better now. And no one has to know that you told me."

Rusty delivered them to the ranch, and Lorinda handed Franklin her sleeping son. He stepped from the buggy, then reached his other hand to help her down.

After the ranch hand unloaded their luggage, he drove the vehicle toward the carriage house.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Vine." Her husband put the baby in her arms, then picked her up in his arms. With deliberate steps, he went up the stone walkway to the porch and carried her over the threshold. Evidently, what he did yesterday didn't count.

"I'll put Michael in his crib." She whisked into the bedroom she and her son shared.

After he settled into deep slumber, she went into the parlor and found Franklin waiting for her, leaning against the mantel above the stone-cold fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest. This was the first time she had been alone with him in the ranch house. Everything felt different...and awkward. What would happen now?

"How will we keep Mrs. Oleson from knowing the truth about our marriage, since she lives in the house with us?" She hated to ask the question, but she needed to know what he expected.

He pushed away from the mantel and crossed to stand before the chair where she sat. "You are now the woman of the house. You can choose what you want to do and tell her what you want her to do."

She stared up at him. "I don't want to upset her routine." He was so tall, her neck felt crimped.

"You can take complete control of our rooms–the cleaning, the laundry, and other things, so she won't know where anyone slept. There's a nice sized dressing room between your room and mine." He thrust his hands into the back pockets of his trousers. She had seen that pose many times when he talked to her about something serious.

She arose from the chair and moved far enough from him so she was comfortable looking at him without the crick in her neck.

"When she's in the room with us, we must make her think we're in love with each other." He turned away and glanced out the window.

That won't be hard for me. He'd awakened something in her heart that was drawn to him like metal to a magnet. She would have to silence the small voice that kept telling her she was living a lie.

"Let's get your things moved into the larger bedroom, where I sleep. It was the room my parents shared, as did my grandparents. That's what Mrs. Oleson will expect." He turned back toward her, his eyes searching hers. "Is that all right with you?"

"All right." She gave a tentative reply.

"I will actually sleep in the dressing room."

Lorinda let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "That could work."

"The smaller bedroom you and Michael have shared can be turned into a nursery." Evidently, he had thought through all of this.

She was glad she wouldn't have to work it out.

"I'm even thinking of asking Mrs. Oleson if she'd like larger quarters for herself. There are two nice-sized rooms across the upstairs hallway from where her room is now. We can turn them into a parlor and bedroom for her, for when she wants privacy. She's not getting any younger, and I want her comfortable for the rest of her life here in our home."

Our home. The words were a balm to her heart.

"And then she wouldn't be sleeping in the room above our bedroom." A slow smile crossed his face.

Now Lorinda understood. Mrs. Oleson wouldn't be able to hear anything that happened in their bedroom...or anything that didn't happen.