Read His Brother's Wife Online
Authors: Lily Graison
Tags: #historical, #historical romance, #western, #cowboy, #western romance, #frontier romance
When he disappeared over
the hill, Grace took a deep breath and stood. The mess from
breakfast needed cleaning and she wanted to do something about her
room today. It was too plain. It was all dark wood and drab. It
needed a little life.
If Rafe was going to be
hot and cold with her then she’d just do what she had to until she
could think of something else. Marrying Jesse was out of the
question but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone in Willow Creek
looking for a wife. She’d ask every person in town if she had
to.
One way or another, she’d
find a way out of this house and out of Rafe’s life for good. He
apparently wanted her gone and she was nothing if not dutiful.
She’d give him what he wanted regardless of how much it hurt to do
so.
* * * *
Rafe scowled as he eyed
the broken fence line. The breech was big enough he could drive two
wagons through it, side by side. There was no way his cattle had
done that.
Jumping from his horse, he
inspected the fence, biting back a curse. It would take him all day
to repair. By the time he made it back to the house, collected what
he needed and rode back, it would be well past lunch. He’d be hard
pressed to get it fixed by the time Grace set supper on the
table.
The thought of her caused
his chest to tighten and he stalked back to the horse, jumping into
the saddle, irritated beyond measure. Why had he been such a
jackass to her? Why did he always have to stick his foot in his
mouth when she was around?
He turned the horse back
to the house as Grace’s image danced in his head. She’d looked like
a tiny ray of sunshine standing in the kitchen this morning. The
calico dress did nothing for her figure but he knew what was under
all that unflattering fabric. He'd seen it.
She was all supple curves
with firm, high breasts he’d never get another chance to see. He’d
wanted to pin her against the table the moment he saw her with her
hair flowing down her back in a single braid. Wanted to loosen
those strands and fist those golden locks in his hand as he bared
her throat to his hungry mouth. Kiss her breathless again until she
made that little sound deep in the back of her throat that sounded
like a siren’s call to his cock.
He shivered as an image of
her wrapping her legs around his waist while he buried himself
inside of her filled his head and refused to leave. He wanted to
make her his in every way a man could and protect her from anything
that would cause her harm.
And in a way, he had. He’d
protected her from him. A man who ached to have her but couldn’t
take the first step to make it happen.
Talking with Jesse the
night before, Rafe knew the kid would do something stupid if he
even mentioned marrying Grace. His brother was determined to make
her his wife regardless of what anyone else said or did. Trying to
discourage him with talk of bedding her hadn’t done anything but
fueled the boy’s imagination. He was an idiot to think he’d turn
Jesse’s mind the other way with something like that.
There probably wasn’t a
man alive who could look at Grace and not want her in his bed.
Jesse’s age didn’t matter. Hell, he’d only been a year older than
Jesse the first time he’d bedded a woman and she hadn’t been half
as fetching as Grace was.
When he made it back to
the house, he spotted her by the well, struggling with the bucket.
He’d have to fix the water pump leading into the kitchen again.
Damn thing didn’t work more times than it did. He added it to his
ever growing list of repairs.
She looked up as he neared
the house. Even from this distance he could see the fire in her
eyes. She was upset, not that he blamed her. He would have been
too. You don’t go around kissing a woman the way he'd kissed Grace,
then act like a complete horses ass the very next morning. She
probably thought he’d been playing with her emotions and there
wasn’t a thing he could say to sway her mind any other way.
Anything he said, she’d construe as a lie. He would
have.
Dropping the bucket back
into the well, she picked up the house bucket and lifted her head
in his direction. Then she pointed that perky little nose into the
air and snubbed him. He wanted to smile at her audacity, but
didn’t.
When she turned, he
noticed she’d pulled her hair back into that tight bun she always
wore. He sighed. He liked it better down.
He added that to the list
of things he’d never see from her too.
Chapter
Fourteen
Grace dropped the water
bucket on the kitchen table, scowling as most of it sloshed out
across the wooden surface and dripped to the floor. The breakfast
dishes had been washed and put away. The table and stove cleaned
and the floor swept. The rest of the house was in decent shape and
she had to tackle the bedrooms now, a task she’d been
dreading.
Rafe’s behavior had put
her in a foul mood. The less she saw of him and Jesse the better
and being locked away in the small bedrooms was exactly what she
needed.
Turning to grab her
cleaning rags, she heaved the bucket up again and started through
the house. Water splashed over the sides of the bucket and made
small wet puddles on the stairs as she climbed them. She stopped by
Jesse’s room to tell him to be careful if he went down and found
him on his bed, a small book in his hand. She watched him for long
moments before clearing her throat. “Jesse…”
He looked up, surprised,
the book in his hands closed with a snap and flung behind his back.
Grace lifted one eyebrow. What was he reading?
“Did you need something?”
he asked, his voice cracking.
Grace stared at him. He
was hiding something. She nodded back down the hall with her head
and said, “I spilled water on the stairs. Be careful if you go
down.” He stared at her mutely, sitting as still as a statue. She
wondered again what he’d been reading. She smiled and lowered the
bucket to the floor. “What are you doing up here? Don’t you have
chores to do?”
He nodded, shifted his
weight with his hands behind his back and stood. The book wasn’t
there. He crossed the room toward her and slipped out, closing his
door. “I was just going. You seen Rafe?”
“Yes. He rode in a few
minutes ago, heading toward the barn.”
Jesse nodded and turned
without another word. She listened to his heavy footfalls on the
stairs and the backdoor open and close before she looked at his
bedroom door. It opened with a small creak.
Looking back toward the
hall and listening for sounds in the house, she walked inside, went
to his bed and lifted up his pillow. The book lay there, the cover
worn and the edges of the paper rolled. Lifting it she smiled. It
was a reading primer. A simple schoolbook.
Peering out the window,
she watched him enter the barn. Had he been fighting Rafe about his
chores because he’d rather be doing something else all together,
like attending school? Were his claims he was a man really what he
thought or what he thought was expected of him?
Dropping the book and
sliding it under the pillow, she walked back to the hall, closed
his door behind her, and picked up her bucket. Maybe getting him in
school wouldn’t be as difficult as Rafe thought. Jesse obviously
had an interest in learning. Maybe with gentle persuading, he’d go
back and she knew exactly how to make him want to go.
Her irritation had waned
by the time supper rolled around and she’d planned of broaching the
topic of school with Jesse and Rafe over their meal. Of course,
nothing ever went as planned where those two were
concerned.
Rafe didn’t bother to come
in. She glanced out the window, trying to see if he was crossing
the yard.
“He’s not out
there.”
Turning to look at Jesse,
Grace said, “What do you mean he’s not out there?”
He shrugged his shoulder
as he hung his coat and hat on the peg by the door. “Just what I
said. He ain't out there. Horse is gone, too.”
Rafe wasn’t even there?
The last time she’d seen him had been this morning, when he’d rode
back into the yard while she was getting water. That was hours ago.
Had he left again when she’d gone back into the house? “Did you see
him earlier today?”
“Yeah but I didn’t talk to
him. He don’t tell me what he’s doing and I don’t ask. I just went
about my chores and he rode out again.”
“I see.” Grace puzzled
over the fact that the two brothers rarely spoke as she and Jesse
ate in silence. Rafe had told her the same the night before. It was
absurd to her that two family members could live in the same house
and didn't speak. It was as if they lived two separate
lives.
Shaking her head, Grace
covered Rafe's plate when they'd finished their meal and placed it
in the warmer so he could eat it later. “Where would Rafe have
gone?”
Jesse shrugged his
shoulders gain. She watched him as he started helping her clear the
table. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him,” he said. “He takes
off like this sometimes. He’ll be back by morning.”
By morning?
“Where
would he go that would have him away from home all night?” He
turned toward the sink but Grace noticed his ears turned red.
“Jesse?”
He sighed and stared out
the window for a few moments before picking up the bucket of cool
water and dumping into the sink. “He’s probably in
town.”
Grace looked out the
window. It was dark, the moon casting bright rings of light on the
top of the barn. “At this time at night? What could he possibly be
doing in town?”
Another shrug of his
shoulders, his head lowered toward the sink.
“Jesse?”
“Ah, hell, Grace," he
said, turning his head to peer at her over his shoulder. "He’s
doing what every other man does at this time of night in
town.”
“Which is?” He gave her an
incredulous look and the moment he did, a vision of black and red
satin and lace popped into her head. Bawdy music and robust
laughter followed.
The only thing in town
open at this time in the evening was the saloon and she didn’t take
Rafe for a drinking man. That left only one other thing he could be
doing in a place like that.
Her temper flared the
moment she envisioned him there, some cheap floozy sitting on his
lap while she whispered naughty things in his ear. “He’s in the
saloon?”
Jesse cast a sheepish look
her way before shrugging his shoulders again. “Possibly.” He rolled
up his shirtsleeves, dunking the dishes into the sink. “He likes to
visit Ms. Chloe every now and again.”
Ms. Chloe
? The
thought of Rafe in some… bawdy house with someone named Chloe
caused Grace to see red.
That insufferable man had
the nerve to kiss her like a lover would and was now in a saloon
with some…. prostitute!
She wanted to scream.
Grace clenched her jaw to keep from doing just that, her hands
fisted as the impulse to throw something hit her.
As she stared at Jesse’s
back she realized her earlier assumption about Rafe had been right.
He’d used her. Kissed her until she'd thought of what it would be
like to let him into her bed, and that was probably what he thought
would happen.
If Jesse hadn't called her
name, would it have?
She felt so gullible she
was sure the word idiot was written across her forehead.
Turning on her heel, she
left Jesse to finish the dishes, and marched to her room. The
discussion of school would have to wait. By the time she shut her
bedroom door, her eyes were burning with unshed tears. Her anger
was a hot, living thing in her chest.
Taking a deep breath, she
sat in the rocker by her window and looked out across the
moon-washed valley. Snow glinted off the top of the mountain and
she knew it wouldn’t be long before the snow would reach them as
well. It was already getting colder. The air during the day was
brisk and at night it howled against the windows.
Full winter would set in
sooner rather than later and she’d be damned if she was stuck in a
house with Rafe Samuels. He couldn't just go around kissing her,
making her want him, and then ride off to visit the painted ladies
down at the saloon.