Barefoot Bride for Three Read online

  “I’ll not have my wife walk in the street in bare feet.” He carried her across the muddy, manure-strewn street and set her down carefully on the boardwalk in front of the hotel. “The faster you get clean the sooner I get to kiss what’s under all that dirt,” he whispered in her ear. He slid his hands between her dress and his coat, grasped her bottom, and pulled her close. Evidence of his desire blazed across her belly.

  “Don’t take too long, wife. I want to make you mine.”

  Chapter Three

  Trace scraped his cheek with a straight razor borrowed from Miss Lily. He had to tilt his head to avoid the mirror’s cracks and black pits. He nicked himself again and swore as he rinsed the blade in the bowl of warm water. He’d stared down catamounts, vicious killers, and rattlesnakes. Yet a city woman like Beth scared the hell out of him.

  She was no pretty-but-weak flower like Gillis MacDougal’s wife, Prudence. None of them could believe it when Gillis returned from his trip East with a wife dressed in silk ruffles and satin bows. They’d shrugged and gone on with their lives until the dang sheriff realized Gillis was no longer joining them in town on a Saturday night to whoop it up and take the miners down a few pegs. Because Gillis didn’t join them anymore, Frank Chambers got it in his fool head that a married man caused less trouble.

  The last time all three Elliotts hit town they’d had a wonderful time. Just before Christmas they’d worked their way through a half-dozen drunken miners. They were winning until Hugh Jennet, the sanctimonious banker, complained to the sheriff about the noise. Trace, Simon, and Jack were hauled off to jail. Frank tossed the miners out of town.

  The next morning, he’d done the same to Trace and his brothers, decreeing that no Elliott was allowed back until one of them married. Just because Gillis MacDougal stopped being fun once he married, didn’t mean that a rip-snorting Elliott man would. Bets were on Jack to marry, if any of them. The boy could even sweet-talk Miss Lily’s gals into sharing their bed on a quiet night.

  No one would believe he’d be the one that got caught. And by such a woman!

  His Beth was nothing like Gillis’s sickly wife. Put Prudence in a jail cell with the town’s ruffians ogling her and she’d faint dead away. She’d start in the coughing again, and in three days they’d be calling the undertaker.

  Unlike his best friend’s wife, Beth had gumption, along with a body that would soon be his.

  Trace swelled, remembering the flesh he’d held in the jail before their brief wedding. She’d responded to him like a wildcat in heat. From her shocked reaction to her response, she’d never known pleasure. All he wanted from a wife was passion, respect, and friendship. Awakening that passion was his job for tonight.

  A tough job, but he was man enough for it.

  He wiped his face off and stared at the fractured image. He was exactly as he looked. A tough, hard-working cowboy fighting to make a home for himself and his brothers. Since Pa died, he’d taken orders from no one and wasn’t about to start now. Especially from a woman. She could be feisty all she liked, but there was only one ramrod on a ranch, and he was it for the Rocking E.

  The doorknob rattled. He’d turned and palmed his gun by the time the door opened. The petite woman raised a plucked eyebrow at his drawn weapon. “That’s not what most husbands would point at a woman after their wedding,” she said. She winked when he flushed.

  “They wouldn’t be bathing in your private quarters either.” He stuck his gun back in its holster. “Thanks for lending me a place to wash up, Lily.”

  “I’m the closest thing to an aunt you have north of Texas. I couldn’t do less for my favorite nephew.” She tilted her perfectly made up face up at him. “You can’t go to your bride with ragged hair hanging down your back.” She walked to stand beside him, her forehead barely reaching his nipples though she wore heels. “It’s a wife’s job to trim her man’s hair, but I’d like to tidy you up a bit before she sees you up close and personal.”

  When he hesitated she snapped her fingers and pointed at a backless chair. He shrugged and sat down. She wrapped his damp towel around his shoulders and picked up her scissors.

  “Tilt your head. I hear you got yourself a wife to suit you. Frank and his missus like her and so does Sophie. She visited Patsy Tanner at the mercantile a fair bit and made some high fashion dress sketches, which Patsy showed me. To top it off, since Eudora and Hugh Jennet and Mayor Rivers don’t like her, she’s gold in my books.” Lily began snipping so his hair would just touch his collar. “Tell me about her.”

  “Don’t know much about her other than she’s got spirit,” said Trace. “She’s been beaten, but it didn’t stop her fighting back. Though she looked scared spitless, she stood up to Charlie. She held her fists high, ready to plow him.” His lip twitched in memory. “She got him good in the jaw, he tripped, and he went down hard on his ass.”

  “Hmm, that’s not the story Charlie’s telling at Baldy’s. How well does she fit you?”

  “Won’t know that until I take her to bed,” he replied with a wink. She slapped the side of his head in mock fierceness.

  “You’ve at least kissed her?” She lifted the scissors from his ear when he agreed. “Well, how did she feel in your arms?”

  Trace thought back. His arms had wrapped around her like they were made to be there. When she hugged him back, he felt a deep contentment that he’d forgotten existed.

  “She fit.”

  Lily, madam of Tanner’s Ford’s house of ill-repute, smiled like sunshine. “You boys deserve a good woman.” She finished her work and rolled up the towel. She replaced her scissors and tidied up. Trace watched her move around the room.

  Fate had steered him into town tonight, just as it had the night he saved Lily from three attackers. Knowing the consequences, he’d do both again. Beth needed a strong man to care for her, one she could trust. From what she said, she had good reason not to trust men. It might take some time for her to learn that Elliotts kept their word. No lies, no evasions. When he said something, it was true. Even if she didn’t like it.

  “I hear the preacher made it quick. Did he skip anything important?”

  “I promised to bed, breed, and care for Beth the best I can. He said nothing about love and honor.” Lily waited. He waggled his head and sighed. “My wife did not promise to obey me.”

  Lily laughed. “Wonderful! She won’t have it on her conscience when she does what she needs to. With the three of you in one house, she’ll be a busy woman, day and night.” She walked over to Trace on tiny feet and crooked her finger. He bent over so she could place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “What will you do to encourage her to take on all three of you?”

  “I’ll show her what Trixie and Felicity taught me all those years ago.” He returned the kiss, planting it gently on her forehead.

  “Damn you, Trace Elliott! If you were thirty years older, I might have hauled you to the altar long ago.”

  “Granny, Gran, or Grandma?” He tossed off the question as if it was a joke, but her reaction quickly sobered him.

  She stopped, one hand pressed to her heart. “You’d let me see your children?”

  He pulled her close, her cheek resting against his bare chest. “I want my children to have a grandmother.”

  “But I’m a whore,” she said. “Your wife might not want me near her children.”

  “Dammit, Lily. That job might have kept your body alive for a while, but that’s not who you are.” Her hot tears trailed their way down his belly, yet she made no sound. “Yes, you run a whorehouse. But your girls are here because they want to be. Any of them could marry and be gone, but you treat them right, pay them well, and everyone gets what they want. I’d rather have my sister working here than married to a hard case like Joe Sheldrake.”

  “Your father wouldn’t want to hear you say that about Jessamine.”

  “Pa chose to die beside Ma rather than fight to live and care for seven children who needed him. I don’t give a damn about him!”
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br />   The silence ran loud for a minute.

  “Beth will do what’s right. She raised her nose like Mrs. Emslow when Frank introduced us, but that changed fast when I kissed her. A few weeks with me and the boys and she’ll come around.” He chuckled and gave Lily a squeeze. “I bet she can be just as cantankerous as a certain bawdy lady, so you two should get along fine. Maybe Rosa could teach her how to cook.

  “You’re a good man, Trace Elliott. I’ll send word that Beth has my protection. Any man who treats her without respect won’t set foot in my parlor again. That should cut down the number of unwanted visitors stopping by.”

  “Joe Sheldrake’s the only one likely to cause trouble. He had plans for Beth. He’ll take this as a threat, especially as we’ve never seen eye to eye.”

  “He’s not smart enough to do much on his own, but I’ve heard rumors he’s the link between that vigilante gang and someone here in Tanner’s Ford.”

  “You tell that to Frank?”

  “Of course. I’ve always thought he had something to do with that scar around your throat. He’s too much of a coward to face you head on. He’ll hire men to do his dirty work, so tell Beth to be wary of strangers.”

  “Always.” Trace kissed Lily’s forehead, careful not to disturb her neatly curled hair. “You take care of yourself, Grannie.”

  “Grandchildren of my own.” Lily moved far enough back to look up at him. She blinked her eyes but a few tears overflowed. “I never cry,” she murmured, more to herself. She dabbed at her eyes with the lace-trimmed handkerchief she pulled from her sleeve. “My face must be ruined.” He let her go when she stepped back. “I’d better get back downstairs. I’ve got a business to run.” She settled herself back into her official persona and walked toward the door. She opened it and then turned to face him. “I prefer Gram,” she said and closed the door behind her.

  Trace stared after her for a moment. Only now did he realize how much she meant to him. He didn’t remember much during the time she kept him from dying, other than pain. Doc said it was touch and go for a while, but he couldn’t die on his siblings like his parents had. Once he healed enough to ride, he returned to the Rocking E. For years he was too busy raising his younger brothers and running the ranch to think of a family.

  No decent woman would want him, so he’d pushed almost everyone away. A few times a year, his need for comfort got too strong, and he visited one of Lily’s girls for a night. The rest of the time he took out his frustration and anger in work and fist fights against the damned land-raping miners. Only now, allowing himself to believe his dream might come true, did he let memories drift in.

  He drew on his shirt and buttoned it. Enough of the past, tonight was all about his future. Their future. With Beth’s cooperation, there’d be children to pass the Elliott legacy on to. He wanted lots. If only Ranger, Ben, and Patrick would return from Texas. Get at least one of them married and in a few generations there’d be more damn Elliotts around Tanner’s Ford than a body could shake a stick at.

  First step was to bed his bride. Maybe he’d make Jack and Simon sleep in the barn until he gentled her. He’d get her used to enjoying her body with him. He’d teach her how to accept, and give, pleasure in every way. From the way she’d reacted to his touch, the lady had passion to spare. That was a good thing. One brother couldn’t bring a wife home and have the others go without.

  By fall they’d be settled in a new routine. He stretched, a slow grin of satisfaction settling in. He’d wake up to decent coffee, porridge, ham, and gravy with hot biscuits and jam. She’d bring their dinner to them at the nooning. When they came home tired and hungry at night, she’d fill their bellies.

  And, when the evening chores were done, they’d fill her with their heat.

  * * * *

  “That’s one big man you married, girl.”

  Beth kept quiet as Sophie poured a bucket of rinse water over her clean hair. Sophie’s wedding present was a room, meals, and, best of all, a hot soak in the big copper tub. It reminded Beth of what pleasures life could bring.

  “Lily’s girls say the Elliott men are big all over. They’re gentleman, though they do love a rip-roaring fight.” Finished with the water, Sophie rubbed Beth’s hair with a towel. She leaned close. “I hear Trace doesn’t visit as often as they’d like. Rosa the cook told me the gals say he’s a very good lover.” She bent closer to Beth’s ear. “They say he’s got all sorts of wicked ideas. I even heard that once or twice the three brothers shared a girl. Rosa said they plumb tired her out, but she had a big smile on her face for days.”

  “Please!” Beth sat up, stopping Sophie. “I don’t want to hear that on my wedding night. Or any night.”

  “Couldn’t tell that from the way you and Trace looked when we walked into the jail.” She held out a towel when Beth sputtered. “How about this? Big Joe’s locked up.”

  “Thank goodness.” Beth took the offered towel, eager to distance herself from her experienced friend’s words. “I was worried he might try to attack us during our wedding night. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he was free.”

  “I heard it took eight men to drag Joe from Baldy’s Saloon and stuff him in that jail cell. I’m surprised Trace missed the opportunity for a good fight.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Joe was one of those who roped and dragged Trace through town. No,” she said, forestalling Beth’s questions. “You’ll have to ask him about it.”

  Beth was quiet while she settled in front of the fire. Sophie began combing out the worst knots in Beth’s hair. The bowl of thick pea and bacon soup she’d eaten before her bath had settled her stomach. While she soaked away weeks of dirt, she’d had a chance to think.

  By marrying an unkempt stranger, she’d been spared humiliation, pain, and perhaps death. She owed her life to Trace. But she’d not come all this way to have a man control her. Thanks to the absent-minded preacher, she’d not promised to obey her husband. Had Trace noticed? Would what they had promised matter to him, or would he do what he liked anyway? No matter. She chose poor ranch hand Trace Elliott over both a rich Philadelphia banker and a Western brute. She would make an effort to be a good wife.

  “Do you know anything about my husband’s family?”

  Now that the worst of the knots were out, Sophie’s rhythmic movements soothed Beth. Enjoying the unusual caring touch, Beth let Sophie take her time to answer.

  “I don’t tell stories or gossip. I can say the Elliotts arrived with the MacDougal family even before John and Patsy Tanner stopped their loaded wagon and created Tanner’s Ford. Trace was a small boy when he arrived, and I don’t think he’s been past Bannack City since.” Sophie paused. She tapped the comb against her cheek. “No, I think he went all the way to Virginia City once. Finan MacDougal took a wagonload of boys with him for some reason. The Elliott ranch is called the Rocking E. It’s on the northeast side of the valley to the west of town. The MacDougals have the M-D Connected on the southwest side of the valley.”

  “Wait,” said Beth. She pushed hair off her face to see Sophie. “My husband said he worked on the Rocking E ranch. I thought he was a hired hand.”

  “Trace Elliott, a hired hand?” Sophie laughed. “I expect you also thought he has nothing but a plugged nickel to his name.” Beth nodded. Sophie pointed the comb at her. “You are one lucky woman. Not only is your husband a good man, his family owns some of the best ranch land around. They might not have cash money, but you’ll never go hungry.” She barked a laugh. “Unless those boys clean out the larder now that they’ve got a woman cooking for them. You’d better stock up before you leave town. After a long, hard winter, those boys will have their bellies stuck to their backbones if Simon or Jack’s been cooking. Can you cook or are you one of those useless Eastern city women?”

  Beth glared. “I am not useless. I cared for my grandparents’ farm the last couple of years. All but the oldest servants were dead or gone. I can cook, put up food, sew—”

  “Whoa!” Sophi
e backed away as Beth’s voice rose. “That’s good. Those Elliott boys need a strong woman to stand up to them. If I were you, I’d pray to whoever sent Trace into town tonight. Bend your head and let me finish your hair.”

  Beth let the moment pass until they both calmed. “How did Trace get that scar around his neck?”

  “He didn’t escape hanging as a horse thief, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Beth’s cheeks flamed. “He saved a woman when he was barely eighteen. They came after him and dragged him behind a horse with a rope around his neck.”

  “How did he survive?”

  “He’s an Elliott,” said Sophie. “Too damn stubborn to give up. Tilt your head.”

  Beth did as she was told. Every moment brought her closer to the time her husband would demand his marital rights. One afternoon her mother explained wifely duties to Beth and her sisters. She said the husband does painful, disgusting things to his wife’s body. He does this as often as he chooses until she produces two sons. Then he returns to his mistress.

  Beth had been horrified. Luckily, her friend Florence Peabody’s older sister married shortly after. She’d whispered to both girls that marital relations could be enjoyable with the right man. When Beth asked how one would know the right one, she was told her body would tingle when he touched her.

  Trace made her tingle, even while still across the room. And when he kissed her…

  “You have beautiful hair,” said Sophie as she finished. “And look what Miss Lily sent over for you.” At Beth’s horrified gasp, Sophie shook her head. “It’s a nightgown fit for a bride, Beth, not anything disrespectful. And please don’t judge what you don’t know. Trace was only sixteen when his parents died from a spring fever. Lily became like an aunt to the eldest three boys. The MacDougals took in the others.”

  Sophie lifted the filmy white nightgown from the bed. Though warm from the fire, Beth shivered as the delicate fabric slid over her naked flesh. It covered her skin from neck to wrist to toes but hid nothing. She blushed when Sophie winked.