The Unexpected Wife(29)
So close his shoulder nearly brushed hers. His masculine scent, a mixture of sweat and fresh air, spun around her. Annoyed by her reaction to him, she tightened her fingers into fists. She’d have left, but where would she go? Back to her loft where she could lie awake listening to him move about the cabin?
Neither spoke as he held out his hand to the mare. The animal approached instantly.
Stupid to feel a stab of jealousy over a horse, but she did. Every square inch of the homestead from the roughly hewn logs of the house, to the split-rail fences of the corral bore Mr. Barrington’s mark. Elise’s presence was all over the house and yard as well. Today, she’d wanted to make her mark, if only a small one, on the ranch.
“I put the boys to bed.”
“Thank you.” She’d imagined she’d be the one putting them down—saying their prayers, giving them a kiss good-night as she tucked the covers under their chins. Dreams. There she went again letting her dreams set her up for sadness.
“Temperature is going to drop off quickly,” he said.
She’d never been good at small talk or ignoring a problem when it was staring her right in the face. “What does the temperature have to do with the fact that you were rude to me just now in front of the boys?”
He stared at her, no apology in his gaze. “This situation is awkward.”
She tipped back her head, hysterical laughter bubbling inside her. “I’ve never heard a greater understatement spoken, Mr. Barrington.”
“You’re very direct,” he said. His voice was as hard as his gaze.
“So I’ve been told.” Her forthright manner had gotten her in trouble with her uncle and aunt more than once.
“I can take you back to town.”
A bitter smile twisted her lips. “I didn’t come this far for a twenty-four-hour stay on a ranch. I came out here to marry you.”
He tightened his fingers on the stall doors until the faint sound of wood cracking had him loosening his hold. “A lie brought you here, not me. And the truth is, I’d make you or any woman a lousy husband. Loving Elise—” He paused as if just mentioning her name hurt. “Well, loving her used up all the love that was in me. There’s just none left.”
The admission had cost him and as much as it hurt to hear his words, she appreciated his honesty.
Her aunt and uncle hadn’t loved her. She supposed loving Joanne had used up all their love as well. Then there’d been Douglas. He’d had a fiancée back east. “I have a talent for attaching myself to people who can’t love.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “You’ve been married before?”
“No.” Her penchant for honesty grated her own nerves. She wasn’t interested in talking about her past, especially Douglas. “Just a family who didn’t quite know what to do with me.”
A slight breeze blew through the open door, teasing his thick black hair. She inhaled the scent of leather and fresh air.
He was a powerful man, who commanded the space he occupied. No wonder she felt a tug when he was close.
She wished she had a bag full of eloquent words that could magically make his pain and hers go away. Instead, she spoke plainly as she always did. “Elise is gone, Mr. Barrington, and for your sake and the boys, I am sorry.”
His folded his arms over his chest, his face a rigid mask.
She should have taken his expression as warning that he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. She didn’t. “But the fact remains, until your herd brings in enough money to pay my return ticket, we are bound together. So how do you propose we make the best of it?”
Chapter Eight
“We don’t,” Mr. Barrington snapped.
His eyes blazed with anger and she could see he was spoiling for a fight.
Abby folded her arms over her chest but instead of getting angry, she switched tactics. Drawing in a breath, she forced her taut muscles to relax.
“Tell me about your wife,” she said boldly. This was a risk. Elise’s death was a raw wound that had not healed. But to save her future she had to understand his past.
Stiffening, he lowered his dark brows. “She’s dead and buried—gone—and I don’t like to talk about her.”
Only feet separated them but it might have well have been a million miles. “I saw traces of her all over the cabin. Like it or not, she is still very present.”
His jaw clenched so tightly a muscle spasmed in his cheek. “She is gone!”
“No, she’s not. The aprons, curtains, the hash marks on the walls showing how tall Quinn was on his second birthday and Tommy on his first.”
Mr. Barrington swallowed as a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Quinn was standing on his toes that day. No matter how hard Elise tried to coax him into standing flat-footed, he wouldn’t.”