Instant Husband. Judith McWilliams
Neither Snake’s snort of disgust nor Mabel’s increased sobs could entirely suppress the tingle of awareness Ann felt as Nick’s lips brushed her cheek. What would it feel like if he were to really kiss her? she wondered.
“I like your wedding ring, Ann.” Mabel studied the plain gold band Nick had slipped on her finger. “But I notice you aren’t wearing your engagement ring. What does it look like? It must be a beauty. Why, I remember the monstrous diamond Nick gave Mona—” Mabel’s reminiscences came to an embarrassed stop as she suddenly seemed to realize that enumerating Nick’s gifts to his first wife might not be in the best of taste.
“How about some coffee?” Mabel asked, hurriedly changing the subject.
“Thank you, but we need to get back to the ranch,” Nick answered, while Ann considered what Mabel had said. So Nick had bought Mona a huge diamond. Why? Because he had loved her to distraction or because she’d asked for one?
It didn’t really matter, Ann told herself, because she didn’t want a diamond—big or otherwise. She’d had one once. Bill had picked it out and she’d paid for it. And it hadn’t insured a happy marriage. The simple gold band Nick had given her somehow seemed more enduring than any ostentatious diamond.
“Stop by when you’re in town, Ann, and we’ll get acquainted,” Mabel called after her as Nick hurried her out to the truck and bundled her inside.
“I will,” Ann responded. Then Nick started the truck, almost as if he were escaping the scene of a crime, Ann thought, not sure whether she should laugh or cry. His hasty retreat added the final farcical touch to the event.
Surreptitiously, she studied Nick from beneath her lashes as he maneuvered through the sparse traffic. She was his wife. Mrs. Nick St. Hilarion. She tried the name out and found it curiously satisfying. What she had to do now was to turn this taciturn stranger into a friend.
For a moment, self-doubt at her ability to accomplish it shook her but she fought it. She could do it, she encouraged herself. She might have no talent as a lover, but she did for friendship. She had scores of friends. Good friends. People whose company she enjoyed and who enjoyed hers. There was no reason she couldn’t make a friend out of Nick just because she was married to him. But how did she go about it? Ann stared blankly out the window at the passing landscape as she tried to remember how her friendships had started.
Shared interests, she finally decided. People with shared interests were drawn together because they had something in common to discuss. So what interests did she share with Nick? They were both survivors of a disastrous first marriage They both were lonely—at least Maggie claimed her cousin was lonely, and from what she’d seen so far, Maggie was probably right. They both wanted a secure relationship, to be part of a family group. But two of those things were more negative than positive. She needed an interest to talk about that didn’t bring bad memories to the surface. But what? She chewed on her lip uncertainly. She wasn’t sure. Maybe her best bet would be to get Nick talking about himself and his life and maybe she could find something there to share with him. Something to use as a foundation to build a friendship on.
But first she had to get rid of Snake. Snake was absolute death to any kind of conversation. In fact, his very presence was akin to the proverbial wet blanket.
Obviously Snake had no more desire for her company than she had for his, because the minute the truck stopped, he scrambled out and headed toward the barn. “I’m going ta check the fencing on the north pasture,” he said as he hurried toward the barn.
Get Nick talking, Ann told herself as she slowly climbed out of the truck. But talking about what? The ranch! She suddenly realized that she was standing in the middle of his greatest interest. Surely there was something on the ranch that she could find interesting without having to fake it. At the very least, questions about the ranch would serve as an opening for conversation.
“Is this a slack time for the ranch?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Spring?” Nick looked shocked at her question. “The calves are born in the spring.”
“Oh?” Ann looked around. From the porch steps there wasn’t a bit of stock to be seen. “Where do you keep them?” she continued, hoping she didn’t sound as idiotic as she felt.
“Most of them stay in the fields with their mothers. If they have a problem, we keep them there.” Nick gestured toward the far barn. “Perhaps I ought to show you around the place before I get back to work.”
Success, Ann thought, feeling a sense of accomplishment lift her spirits.
“I’d very much like to see things.” Ann was careful to keep her voice matter-of-fact. She didn’t want him to think that she was trying to coerce him into anything. Or—a flush warmed her thin cheeks—that she was trying to come on to him.
“We can…” Nick paused as he caught sight of a cloud of dust moving down the dirt road from the highway to the house. He squinted, trying to get a better look, and was rewarded by a red gleam from the sun reflecting off the lights on top.
The sheriff’s car, he realized with a quick glance at Ann, who was also watching the car approach. Damn! Why did Sherrie have to come in person. A call would have sufficed to fill him in on the latest developments in the cattle disappearances. Ann was bound to already have a list of things wrong with ranch life. If she were to discover that there were cattle thieves running loose…
“Why don’t you go change into something more suitable,” he blurted out, using the first excuse he could think of to get rid of her.
Something more suitable! The words hit Ann with the force of a blow, dislodging bitter memories of her first husband’s caustic comments about her lack of fashion flair. Her feeling of pleasure at Nick’s willingness to show her the ranch was buried beneath the humiliating flood of memories, and she felt her skin tighten painfully, as if it were bracing for an additional blow.
“Yes, of course,” she muttered, escaping into the house. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. She took a deep breath to try to steady her racing heart.
Finally she straightened up and headed toward the stairs. You’re mixing up the past with the present, she told herself. Nick isn’t Bill. Nor is he responsible for anything Bill did. Judge Nick by what Nick does.
All Nick actually said was that you should change into something more suitable. She glanced down at her cream wool jacket. It really wasn’t a very practical outfit for exploring a ranch. It was too easy to soil and too hard to clean.
But even if his request was logical, why make it when someone was coming? Why not introduce her first? Was he ashamed of her? Don’t worry about it, she ordered herself as she pushed open the door to her bedroom. You can’t second-guess everything.
She hurriedly slipped out of her suit, carefully hanging it in the narrow closet. She knew she was right about not allowing her imagination to run riot. What she didn’t know was how to stop the past from coloring the present.
She sighed as she began to scramble into jeans. She could only try. Maybe when she knew Nick better, she’d find it easier to keep him separated in her mind from Bill. Because if she couldn’t…Ann shivered violently. If she couldn’t, then she would have allowed Bill to not only destroy her first marriage but her second.
A spark of anger flickered to life. She refused to give Bill that much power over her. She wasn’t that weak. She drew on the pair of jeans and jammed her feet into her new sneakers. She had more pride than that. She pressed her lips together in determination. She could make of this marriage anything she wanted.
Well, almost anything. She yanked a thick, green cableknit sweater over her head. She did have to take into account what Nick was willing to invest in the marriage. And at the moment what he was investing was a tour of the ranch—an opening she intended to take full advantage of.
Ann emerged from the house and paused in surprise when she realized that the car sitting in front of the house was a sheriff’s car. And the