CHAPTER 11.

CORD'S RIBS HAD TAKEN THE trip to town better than he had dared hope, so the next day he saddled the big brown gelding that had been his favorite mount for years and tried thirty minutes in the saddle. The ride wasn't a pleasure, but it was bearable. After almost six weeks of neglect, he would start checking the horses in the far pastures the next day.

Unhappiness was all over Anne as she watched him ride off, and Cord felt a decided twinge of regret himself. He'd gotten used to having her nearby as he worked every day.

Still, when she broached her solution to the problem over lunch it took him by surprise.

"Would you teach me to ride?"

His head jerked up, and his immediate no was short and curt.

Her mouth and chin trembled, and she looked down at her plate quickly, swallowing hard. "I see."

He had reacted without considering. Years ago Frank had talked him into working with his sons on their riding. The whole thing lasted less than fifteen minutes, with the boys, who could already ride well enough to get by, insolent, contemptuous, and smart-mouthed. Cord ended it by walking away, and the subject had remained a sore one in the family ever since.

Anne was different, though, and he knew it. She had been an apt pupil with the guns, and was still practicing and improving. She was careful around the horses and good with all his stock. He would probably enjoy teaching her to ride, and now, seeing the eager look change to hurt and the bowed head, he felt as if he'd hit her.

He slunk out of the house, comforting himself with the thought that she would ask again. His experience with females was with his sister Marie, who when faced with a no would wheedle prettily until she got her own way, and with his sister Hannah, who would sulk and make everyone around her miserable until she got what she wanted. He would, he vowed, give in the minute she mentioned it again.

But the next time he saw her she gave no sign, and a week later she had still not brought it up. When she asked for a Christmas tree, he didn't make the same mistake - he went into the hills and cut one.

He left early the next morning, driving the yearlings they had been handling back out to pasture, returning with two-year-olds he would keep up and work with for the next few weeks, only to spot Ephraim's horse and buggy and Frank's saddle horse in the yard. He let the horses scatter, not even herding them through the last gate.

The trip to town had put everyone on notice of the situation out here, and there was no doubt in his mind that his brothers were here to talk Anne into leaving, or that she would probably go. When Frank Bennett was trying, he could charm almost any woman into anything, and he would be trying this time. Cord headed for the door, stiff with anger.

Frank, Eph, and Martha were all seated at the kitchen table, and Anne was piling cookies on a plate. Two large cartons were on the floor and dresses lay wrapped in a sheet across the back of the stuffed leather chair. Anne treated him to her usual bright smile of greeting.

"h.e.l.lo, there. I told everybody you'd be back soon. Your brothers brought Martha with them to make sure I didn't shoot them."

Anne acted totally unaffected by his cold silence and went on in the same pleased voice, explaining that her mother, finally aware that Anne had stayed with Cord, had boxed up her things and prevailed upon Martha and Ephraim to deliver them.

"I'm sure she never mentioned it to my Father, but he'll never notice my things are gone anyway," Anne said.

"Too bad she didn't tell him and save everyone the bother. They can just take it all the h.e.l.l back," he said, without looking at his brothers. "You don't need that stuff, and you're not keeping it."

Anne looked at the Bennetts. "If you'll excuse us a moment, my husband and I need to talk."

As she spoke, she headed for the bedroom, and Cord could do nothing but follow. He closed the door and leaned on it, waiting for temper, tears, or even a reminder of his earlier casual promise not to "boss her around."

What he heard was the cool voice of reason. "You're absolutely right. I don't need those things, but I want them, and I think I should have them."

He started to speak, but she shook her head. "No, please, hear me out first. Those things aren't some sort of gift from my family. I've done work for my father's shop at home without so much as a thank you since I was a little girl. Some of those things are gifts from friends and other relatives, and a lot are things Aunt Clara got for me when I lived with her, and I earned that in a way too. There's also the fact that according to Martha my mother is making herself sick over this, and if she feels she's done something for me this way it will make her feel better. I fault her for being too weak to stand up to Father, but Mother had nothing to do with hurting us.

"Still, if you don't want those things here, if every time you see something that came out of one of those boxes it's going to make you feel a little bit angry, then I'd rather not have any of it. Please just think it over before you say is all, and if you really don't want me to keep any of it, we'll tell your brothers to take the boxes back out and not to bring in anything else, and I promise I'll never say another word on the subject ever."

Why did she always do something different than he expected? How did a man deal with a woman like this? He searched her face carefully, finding no anger, no resentment, and no entreaty. She just waited patiently for his answer. He thought of how mean he felt over the riding lessons and knew he couldn't face denying her again. It also occurred to him that Martha and his brothers were still going to do their best to take her away with them. He could at least fix it so they would have to carry the d.a.m.n boxes twice.

"Tell them I'll help carry it in." He was out the front door before she was out of the bedroom.

Anne smiled sweetly at the Bennetts and said, "Cord's going to help you carry those things in. With three of you it should go fast, and we can have coffee and cookies after you're through."

She did not miss the astonished looks that pa.s.sed between the two blond men and Martha, but turned her back to fix the coffee and heard Frank and Ephraim head out as Cord brought in another box.

"Just put it all there on the floor, and I'll sort things out later."

When the boxes and wrapped dresses were all in the house, Cord disappeared without a word, leaving her with Frank, Eph, and Martha at the kitchen table. Drat his hide, Anne thought, I bet he knows they're up to something, and he's leaving me to deal with it.

She chatted merrily away, hoping to distract them and have them leave after a pleasant visit, knowing it was probably not going to happen.

Anne had known Martha Bennett for many years to speak to and was drawn now towards the woman who had become her sister-in-law. The first word that came to mind to describe Martha was "kind." The dark blonde hair was more than half gray, and the short, once gently rounded figure was frankly plump. Martha's beauty was of the spirit, and it shone from warm hazel eyes.

As the men sat in glum silence, Martha helped Anne's attempts at ordinary conversation. "Where did you get the Christmas tree?"

"Cord got it somewhere in the hills. I just described what I wanted. Isn't it pretty? I only have a few store-bought decorations, but I've got popcorn for strings and I'm going to use iced cookies in Christmas shapes on it too. We can look at them until Christmas and then eat them for weeks."

With a sinking feeling, Anne noticed Frank Bennett marshaling all his considerable golden charm, waiting only for a pause in the conversation.

"Anne, Eph and I both feel that how things have turned out for you is a good part our fault. If we hadn't flown off the handle that first day, we could have helped you then and gotten you out of here."

Her smile froze. "You did me a favor. I've been happier here than ever before in my life."

Frank was not put off. "He's my brother, and I can't pretend I don't have feelings for him, but he's also one of the coldest, meanest men I've ever come across and there's no use pretending otherwise. He's not capable of affection, and there doesn't seem to be much else that he's not capable of. You're a decent woman and you deserve a decent life.

Let us help. We can see that you get anywhere you want to go and that you have what you need to live the way you're used to living until you get established, no matter how long that takes."

I am not going to shout and I am not going to go for the guns Anne thought. I am going to handle this in a reasonable, ladylike way. She concentrated on Frank, with an effort keeping her voice controlled and steady. "You don't seem to understand. I am married to your brother."

Frank started to interrupt, and her control wavered. "Shut up and listen to me," she hissed.

Forcing a normal voice again, she continued, "Whether you approve, and your opinion of him or of me is irrelevant. We're married and that's the end of it. And let me tell you that if you ever again try to talk me into leaving him, offer me money to leave him, or say another unkind word about him to me, it will be the last time you ever walk in this house. Today I met you at the door with a gun and put it aside because you're his family and it seems right to try to get along, but if you ever raise this subject again it will be the last time we speak."

Finished, she gave first Frank, then Ephraim, and finally Martha the full benefit of her most forceful look. "Understood?"

Ephraim said, "All right, if that's the way you want it, but don't forget that if you change your mind, all you have to do is say so. We'll always be willing to help any way we can."

There was little else to say, and they left quickly after that. Anne still felt like kicking things when Cord came back.

"They're gone, huh?"

"Yes, they're gone," she sniped, "and you deliberately left me alone with them didn't you? You knew they were going to start in on me about leaving you, and you just walked out! I suppose you hoped I'd fall for their promises of castles in Spain if I'd only leave here. Then you could be free of me and alone again, couldn't you?"

"Seemed like you should be able to hear them out and decide without me sitting here."

"Decide? I decided the day I said, yes, we'd be married." Understanding dawned on her. "That's not how you feel is it? You think this is some kind of temporary arrangement, and I'll be skittering off to something else soon, don't you?"

His eyes flickered and answered before his words did. "I don't want you to go, Annie, but I don't see you spending your life here either."

Her name was so short no one had ever used a diminutive, but she liked it and found herself feeling appeased almost against her will. It was also hard not to notice that while he might be surprised she was still here, he was thoroughly pleased.

"Well, when we're both old and gray-haired and you're still waking up to the sight of me every morning, I'll remind you of how perceptive you were."

Cord decided he was glad after all that she never seemed to do what he expected.

CHAPTER 12.

THAT NIGHT CORD ASKED IF Frank had mentioned anything about beef.

"No, why ever would he?" Anne asked.

"We have a deal. I raise enough ham and bacon for the whole family, and Frank supplies the beef."

Anne had asked him about the pigs once when he was bedridden, but he hadn't told her much. They were anathema to most ranchers, but Cord rather liked them. Liked them enough to disappear every spring and fall when Frank came with men to do the butchering.

"So your dear brother just welshes on his part of the deal every time he's angry with you?"

"Something like that," he admitted grudgingly. "I'm tired of nothing but chicken and ham. I'll go see Riley tomorrow."

Riley had first worked for Cord's father when they were both young men. He still worked for Frank, although as age and rheumatism slowed him down, Frank continued to lighten his workload.

The next day, Cord tied Keeper in front of the small house where Riley lived before the sun was more than a promise. He hoped to catch the old man still warming himself at the stove on the cold winter morning. Sure enough, Riley answered the door, inviting Cord in with a gesture. Small, wiry, and weathered looking, with thin white hair and blue eyes faded from too many years squinting into the sun, Riley was the closest thing to a grandfather Cord had ever known. He had taught Cord to ride and shoot as a boy, and, unlike Frank and Ephraim, didn't always leap to the worst conclusion.

Riley sank back down in the chair closest to the stove, examining Cord closely.

"Heard you finally met somebody tougher than you, boy."

Cord tipped his hat back a bit and admitted, "Their guns were tougher. And there were nine of them."

"Figured it had to be something like that. Wasn't too smart of you to let them corner you was it?"

"Nope. Had weeks in bed to contemplate how stupid it was."

"It was that bad?"

Cord wondered why he could talk to this old man so much more easily than to his brothers. "Should have died. Was meant to."

"n.o.body here knows."

"Nope."

"You really hurt that woman?"

Cord met this old friend's eyes steadily. Riley was the first one to ask. "I'm not doing her any favor keeping her around, but I never hurt her."

"Who marked her like Frank and Eph saw?"

"Her father and one of the Double M hands."

"Boy, you ever think of just telling Frank that? You got any idea how he's feeling?"

Cord shrugged. "Hardly matters what happened. It matters he's so d.a.m.ned sure I did it - never even asked. Neither did Eph. How the h.e.l.l you think I feel?"

Riley sighed. "You telling me to mind my own business?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"What did you come for then?"

"Beef."

"Ah, well, that's easy enough isn't it? Suppose I just resume deliveries, so to speak.

Am I allowed to ride over and meet this woman?"

"Sure. You'll like her. More grit than most men."

Cord rode home with several thick steaks, feeling better about everything, only to be knocked off balance again.

Anne was sorting through the boxes little by little. Yesterday she had been jubilant after discovering one box had books in it. He would be extremely happy about it himself soon she told him, because her cookbook was in with the rest. There were all sorts of wonderful things she could make now but had been unable to remember exact recipes for.

As he walked in and put the meat package on the table, she held up a huge piece of brown cloth. "What do you think of this?"

"What is it?"

"Actually, it's men's suiting material. Aunt Clara bought it just before I left Chicago.

She had some notion of having a very conservative traveling dress made for me of it.

Look, there's lots of it because we got enough for skirts, you see."

He didn't see what it had to do with him, and waited warily to find out.

"What I'm getting at is I haven't been able to think of anything to give you for a Christmas present, and I thought if you'd let me, I'd see if I can make this into a suit. I've only ever worked on parts, of course, but it shouldn't be that hard. The thing is you'd have to put up with a few fittings, so it can't be a surprise, and I couldn't finish it by Christmas anyway, maybe just the trousers." She was looking at him almost shyly, expectation of a rude no written all over her face.

Christmas present! The words brought visions of oranges in the toes of red stockings, small wooden horses and soldiers, a saddle specially made for him at ten, and a bridle at eleven. He hadn't given or received anything remotely resembling a present since Marie had married and left. What would she come up with next? The look on her face made a no utterly impossible.