Big Bad Professor(62)

“I wanted only to please her, to perhaps change a mind that seems to be hard set against the concepts of dating and courtship,” he told himself, heaving a sigh as he added, “And although she sure seemed to be welcoming of and enjoying the gesture, it seems like all of a sudden she changed her mind—and her heart. She bolted away from me like I had the plague—racing into her room and locking the door behind her.”

Although Cal had stood outside her door for nearly an hour, begging her to at least give him a chance to apologize for and explain his actions, a steadfast Abigail had refused to take leave of her own private refuge; finally insisting that he let her alone and go to his own bedroom.

Finally, the cowboy relented and retired to the modest, wood planked room that formed his own private haven at Elsa’s Rose; a room occupied only by a camp bed and an unpainted bureau, and adorned only with yet another portrait of his beautiful late wife.

Here he could escape the cold condemnation of his mail order bride. He could not, however, avoid the all knowing almond gaze that followed him throughout the room; seeming to condemn him even as her smile remained kind and gentle.

“Are you condemning me for betraying your memory with another woman, and in your own house?” he asked her at one point, tossing and turning in his plain cotton sheets in the midst of a torturous sleepless night. “Or for clinging to your memory, refusin’ in the process to go on with my own life?”

“Or maybe she just has a mind that you’ve gone half batty, riding around town and having a deep conversation with no one but yourself.”

Cal jumped in the saddle as a masculine voice that he recognized all too well resounded from his immediate left; lifting his eyes to meet the sardonic gaze of his brother, Stephen Hopkins.

Himself sitting astride Dallas, his prized ebony charger, the young rancher inclined his head in a show of apparent curiosity.

“Are you OK there, Pardner?” he asked Cal, his usually casual tone lined with genuine concern.

He jumped in his saddle as his brother met his concern with a hard, piercing glare.

“No actually I am not OK, dear brother,” Cal countered, adding with a cutting glare aimed straight in his kinsman’s direction, “and that situation is entirely your fault.”

Stephen sighed.

“Ut oh,” he released on a hard breath, adding as he shifted his feet in his stirrups, “You don’t like your mail order bride, do you? And so now you blame me for bringing her into your life in the first place.”

Cal shook his head.

“As seems to be usual as of late, you, my brother, are dead wrong,” he scoffed, adding as he shook his head from side to side, “I like Abigail far more than I ever thought I would. I’m beginning to wonder how I ever ran the ranch without her.” He paused here, adding as he spoke more to himself than to a watching Stephen, “I’m also ponderin’ if I want to live my life without her. I think I might be fallin’ for her—and it’s all your fault! Blast you, your varmint!”

Stephen pursed his full lips, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to consider this nonsensical assertion.

“Well, all things considered,” he began, tone thoughtful and deliberate, “Isn’t it a good thing to fall in love with your bride?”

Cal sighed.

“That’s the whole problem, Stephen. She’s not my bride,” he informed him, adding in a sad tone, “And at the way that things are goin’, she never will be my wife.”

Stephen gasped.

“So you mean to tell me that you, the dang gum deputy sheriff of this here town, is livin’ in sin with a woman?” he asked, tone harsh and confrontational. “Well, no wonder ya can’t make peace with yourself. What would Ma and Pa say? What would your boss, the sheriff of this town, have to say? I did not place that ad so you could take a mistress, Cal….”

Cal had heard enough.

“Abigail is not my mistress!” he thundered, drawing startled gazes from two prim older women who crossed the common dirt road in front of them.

Tipping his hat in the direction of the ladies, who sniffed sharp and loud in return, Cal waited until they passed to turn with cold eyes in the direction of his still stunned brother.

“When Abigail first arrived at the ranch, we both agreed that we had no true intentions of falling in love, or for that matter of living together as husband and wife. I told her that I never could love anyone but Elsa, and as for Abigail? Well, she’s a lone rider. She didn’t want a man at all. So we decided that she would work my land in the role of a ranch hand,” he explained, adding as he made a broad gesture in the air before them, “Then I had to get to know the woman, and she quite simply is the smartest, funniest, hardworking gal I ever did meet. I really am beginning to like this gal, Stephen—but last night when I tried to kiss her, she plum broke away from me and ran from the room! You would a thought I had the croup!”