The Kincaid Bride Read online

  “Into bed?” He chuckled softly. “I’ve already got that, haven’t I? The way I see it, Melanie, is that it’s just a matter of time. You loved making love with me before, and you can tell yourself to forget it ‘til hell freezes over, but no one ever forgets the kind of passion you and I shared.”

  He was right. She would never forget her vacation fling with her grandfather’s foreman, but that didn’t mean she intended to stay married to him. Abruptly pushing her chair back and herself to her feet, she got out of Eli’s way while he tried to catch his balance. He nearly fell flat on his face, but she knew better than to laugh or even smile.

  Besides, she wasn’t in a laughing mood even if his scramble to maintain his dignity was pretty funny. Lifting her chin, she said coolly, “You’ll have to sleep on the floor, that’s all there is to it.”

  After practically dumping him on his head, she was now issuing orders? Picking himself off the floor, Eli growled, “In your dreams, babe.” He pointed to the bed. “That’s where I’m sleeping. In fact, I’m going to bed now.” He started unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Do that in the bathroom!” she demanded. “And wear pajamas.”

  “I don’t even own a pair of pajamas, nor do I intend to own any.” Eli sat down to pull off his boots.

  “You’re just going to undress in front of me?”

  He sent her an incredulous look. “It isn’t as though I’ve got something under these clothes you haven’t seen before, you know.”

  “Which I don’t care to see again.”

  Eli grinned. “Bet you would.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Muttering under her breath, Melanie marched into the bathroom. “Call out when you’re under the covers. If it’s not too much to ask, of course.”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, babe,” he called cheerfully.

  “Phony good cheer doesn’t become you, either,” she yelled. “When did you become such a happy camper? You hardly cracked a smile when I first met you.”

  “Guess it was you who put the smile on my face, Mrs. Forrester.”

  Melanie leaned weakly against a wall. She figured she’d be able to get through the days, but how in heaven’s name was she going to deal with the nights?

  She had to insist that her grandfather spend some time with her so they could talk, really talk, about the past, about her dad, about her job and Garrett’s life as a rancher. There was so much for them to talk about, and until they at least made the effort, she couldn’t go home. She wasn’t even sure if it was Garrett’s love she needed so badly because she felt now that sharing any part of his heart would help ease the ache in her own.

  But home was where she belonged, not here in this bedroom with Eli when he made what he wanted from her so plain that even a dunce would get the message. She was far from being a dunce, but she knew she would never understand why some innocent fun with a sexy guy had boomeranged into a marriage she didn’t want. And neither did Eli want it, damn him. What Eli wanted, and all Eli wanted, was for her to crawl into that bed and snuggle up to him.

  Well, it wasn’t going to happen. “Aren’t you in bed yet?” she called impatiently.

  “Just now. Come on in. I guarantee your delicate sensibilities won’t be offended because I am covered from whiskers to toenails.”

  “Very funny,” she said with a derisive expression as she walked into the bedroom. She stopped several feet from the foot of the bed. “I need some of those blankets.”

  “What for?”

  “Well, if you’re not gentleman enough to sleep on the floor, then I guess it’s up to me.”

  “Oh, you’re a gentleman. Sorry, but I didn’t notice. Well, sure, mister, just help yourself to whatever blankets you want. Here, you’ll need a pillow, too.” Eli sat up, picked up the pillow he hadn’t been using and tossed it at her.

  She fumbled to catch it, then shot him a murderous look. “You’re actually going to let me sleep on the floor?”

  “Well, hon, I thought you wanted to.”

  “You…moron!” Melanie threw the pillow back on the bed. “Now you listen to me, Eli Forrester. Do you see that knob at the top of the headboard? If you follow that line straight down to the end of the mattress, it cuts the bed into two equal halves. You are to stay on your half, do you understand? And I mean all of you is to stay on your half. I don’t want to feel a toe or a finger or any other part of you creeping over that line in the night. Do you get my meaning?”

  “Since you put it so subtly, I might have to think about it for a while. No, on second thought, I do believe I have it.” Reaching up, he laid his hand on the center knob, then he moved over a little so he could squint one eye down the invisible line Melanie had described. “Okay, let’s make sure I understand completely. You want me to huddle on this half of the bed all night even though I’m twice as wide as you are and you won’t take up even a half of your half?”

  Her lips thinned. “You are not twice as wide as I am, and yes, I want you to ‘huddle’ on your half if you have to hang on to the mattress with your fingernails! You slept all right on your side last night, didn’t you?”

  Eli deliberately put on a guilty look. “I’m pretty sure my foot crossed the line a couple of times.”

  “You snored all night!” she screeched. “How would you know what your stupid foot did?”

  “You snored all night. How would you know what my stupid foot did?”

  She gasped. “I do not snore!”

  Eli scratched the side of his neck, appearing remorseful that he was the one delivering such heartbreaking news. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you do. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that before?”

  Melanie puffed up with outrage. She turned, walked over to the bureau and took out a pair of pajamas. At least one of us will have something on! He probably isn’t even wearing underwear!

  Eleven

  Unlike the night before—when Melanie had slept so soundly that she hadn’t been aware of Eli’s presence for even one groggy moment—this night she could not ease the tension she was feeling enough to close her eyes. She tried repeatedly but found it a strain to keep them shut, so she gave up trying to attain the precious oblivion of sleep and stared into the dark.

  She could hear Eli’s even, quiet breathing—he was obviously not suffering insomnia as she was—and he was as far from her side of the bed as he could get and still be on it.

  A tear formed in the corner of her eye and slid down her temple. How had she let her life get so out of hand? Had she left her independence in her San Diego apartment along with her courage and the iron will that made her a strong competitor in everything she did? Why was she a different person around her grandfather than she was with anyone else? When Garrett had talked about Judge Joseph and a wedding, she should have jumped up and said, “Whoa there, Granddad! I will decide when and whom I marry.” And then she should have turned to Eli and asked, “Where is your backbone? Tell him no the way I just did.”

  Instead, they had both behaved like spineless wimps. True, they’d been terribly embarrassed, but embarrassment would never make the list of the ten best reasons for getting married—if there were ten. Wasn’t there really only one truly sound reason for two people to stand before a judge or cleric and say “I do”?

  “Love,” Melanie whispered. Maybe she was a romantic—though she’d never really thought so before this—but loving a man till it hurt seemed to her to be the only reason she would willingly get married. And, of course, she certainly did not feel that way about Eli.

  So what did she feel for her…? Oh, Lordy, could she even think the word husband tonight, when all she had to do was stretch out her arm a little to touch Eli?

  Melanie’s mouth was suddenly dry. Her feet felt hot, and she drew them from under the covers to cool them off. In fact, she felt rather feverish all over. Angrily, she pursed her lips though she knew in her heart that nothing she could do would stop the honesty of her thoughts. Nor the resentment that accompanied them.

  Okay, d
ammit, I admit that’s how it is. Eli is unutterably sexy and my hormones respond to his. It’s a purely clinical reaction, easily explainable, I’m sure, by a biologist or a…a physiologist. Certainly it has nothing to do with the emotional kind of forever love that good marriages are founded on.

  But admitting Eli’s enormous sex appeal when they were in the same bed was not the smartest thing she could have done, and her feeling of restlessness would not permit her to lie still a moment longer.

  She folded back the covers and got up, not really caring if she disturbed Eli. Not that she deliberately jostled the bed or anything like that, but if her quiet movements happened to wake him, then tough, she thought. This was a lot more her bed than his, and why should he be sleeping like a baby when she couldn’t even keep her eyes shut?

  Going to the open window, she breathed in the cool night air and looked up at the star-laden sky. Her thoughts jumped around, from Should I leave Montana tomorrow, get the annulment over with and just put everything that’s happened here behind me? to Granddad is terribly distraught over Dad’s other sons. Why does he feel so responsible for his son’s amoral behavior? Then, I’m married. It can’t be true, but it is. Mom would keel over if she finds out. She must never know!

  “Melanie? Are you all right?”

  She jumped a foot but didn’t turn away from the window to face Eli. Not that she would be able to see him all that well in the dark. In fact, there was a modicum of comfort in knowing that neither could he see her.

  “I’m fine,” she said without warmth. “Go back to sleep.”

  “You’re sure you’re not ill?”

  “A little heartsick, but not ill.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. “I’m fine,” she said again. The last thing she wanted was his sympathy.

  Eli laid his head back on the pillow, but he was awake now, and worse, he felt the intimacy of being alone with Melanie in a dark bedroom. He glanced at the lighted clock on the bedstand and saw it was almost midnight. Everyone on the ranch would be asleep. Only he and Melanie were awake, and that simple fact seemed to intensify the sensations tormenting his body.

  “Come back to bed,” he said softly.

  The tone of his voice told Melanie exactly what his thoughts were. “Forget it,” she said sharply. “It’s not going to happen.”

  “You could still get the annulment. There are other acceptable reasons you could use.”

  “Like what?”

  “Uh, abandonment? Nonsupport?”

  “You’re guessing. You don’t know any more about it than I do, which isn’t much. But I do know that a refusal to, uh, have sexual relations is grounds for an annulment.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the one doing the refusing. Have you thought about that?”

  Stunned, Melanie slowly turned around. “Maybe…maybe you’ll have to get the annulment. Would you? I mean, if we find out that I can’t?”

  “I’m not sure I believe in annulment.”

  “But you believe in forced marriages? Good God!”

  “Look at it this way, Melanie. If a lawyer asked me to explain why I wanted an annulment and I said because my wife didn’t like sex, I’d be lying, wouldn’t I? Because you do like sex, sweetheart. You love to make love. At least, you did before we got married. And, of course, that’s what I’d have to tell my attorney. I can’t imagine what he’d make of that, can you?”

  “Why would you tell him so much?” she demanded furiously, just barely managing to keep her voice down. “All you’d have to say is that I refused you your marital rights.”

  “You don’t want to lie to a lawyer, but it’s okay for me to omit all sorts of pertinent facts? I don’t think so, babe. A lie by omission is still a lie.”

  “And I’m sure you’ve never told a lie before,” she drawled dryly. “As a matter of fact, everyone on the ranch thinks you’re hiding some kind of horrible past because you never talk about yourself. I’d call that a lie by omission, wouldn’t you?”

  Eli became very still. “No, I’d call it exercising my right to privacy. Good night.” He turned his back to her and pulled the covers up to his shoulders.

  Melanie was so surprised by his reaction that she was momentarily speechless. Boy, did I hit a nerve! Okay, Mr. Forrester, what’s so terrible you can’t talk about it?

  “Are you ignoring me?” she finally asked.

  “I’m sleeping. Good night.”

  “Fine. Good night. Who wants to talk to you anyway?” Melanie moved to the bed and lay down. Hugging the very edge of her half, she covered herself with the blankets and settled her head on the pillow. After a few minutes of lying there, she heaved a woebegone sigh. Five minutes later, she did it again.

  “That does it!” Eli exclaimed, and he turned over and slid across the bed so quickly she had no time to get out of his way. His next move was to rise up and pin her to the bed with his body. She gasped and struck out at him, but he caught and held her hands above her head, then brought his mouth down on hers, hard. When he’d kissed her breathless, he raised his head. “Be honest,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me you want what I do.”

  “Does it matter what I want? You’re forcing me to—” Eli rolled away from her and, breathing hard, lay on his back. “Wha-what’re you doing now?” she stammered.

  “Not forcing you.”

  Melanie couldn’t believe it when he scooted to his side of the bed and again showed her his back. Her lips still burned from his sizzling kiss, and the fire he’d ignited in the pit of her stomach didn’t feel as though it was going to go out by itself.

  But she’d caused her own frustration by talking about force! You idiot, can’t you do anything right anymore? You want him, you don’t want him. Would you please make up your pitiful excuse for a mind? You’re not only driving him crazy, but you’re doing it to yourself!

  And so she lay there for a long time—wide awake, confused and miserable.

  Garrett awoke at his usual time, but instead of immediately getting up as was his habit, he lay in his bed and thought of the dreams that had plagued him throughout the night. They were dreams of frustration in which he felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to complete some simple, everyday task but was unable, for various, inexplicable reasons, to accomplish anything.

  He hated that kind of dream because the sense of frustration remained long after the dream itself had faded. He could feel it now, nipping at his vitals and chafing raw nerves. Truth was, he hadn’t had a peaceful moment since opening Larry’s safety-deposit box and he was still haunted by heartrending questions: Should he attempt to contact those boys or leave them alone? What would be best for them?

  And those grandsons weren’t the only ones he must consider. He had to think of Collin and Melanie, Alice and Lyle, and yes, even the Whitehorn Kincaids. Bringing six strange men into the family could have catastrophic results. What kind of men were they—honest and intelligent or greedy and self-serving?

  Garrett heaved a sigh. He should not have this sort of problem at his age.

  In the next heartbeat, he snorted and got out of bed, disgusted with himself for permitting even that one brief moment of self-pity. His age didn’t have a darned thing to do with his dilemma. He would have been just as stymied at age fifty as he was at seventy-two.

  It was while he was dressing that he thought of Melanie again. The timing of her visit was unfortunate, most unfortunate. All his doing, of course. He’d invited her to the ranch after all. But then had come the shock of discovering those six grandsons, and every day since, they had been uppermost in his mind.

  Proof positive of that was how heedlessly he’d reacted to walking in on Melanie and Eli. Maybe—as Eli had told him—they’d been in the process of falling in love, but dragging them off to get married before they were ready for such a momentous step had been a terrible thing for him to do. He’d talked to Eli about it; now he really must apologize to his granddaughter.

  Yes, he would do that today.

  Coll
in got to Melanie before Garrett did. Spotting her heading for the training field that morning, he called, “Hey, Mel! Wait up!”

  She changed direction and walked toward her brother. Her all but sleepless night had caused dark circles under her eyes, and she was wearing sunglasses to avoid questions about her state of health. She wasn’t physically ill after all, just down in the dumps over permitting anyone—even the grandfather she adored—to run her life.

  “What’s happening, bro?” she asked, putting a lilt in her voice she certainly didn’t feel.

  “I’m taking a truck to town for a load of supplies. Want to come along?”

  She didn’t need to be asked twice. “Yes! Am I dressed all right?” She was wearing jeans and boots.

  “For Elk Springs?” Collin chuckled. “Sis, you’re right in style. Come on, the truck’s over there. That yellow one.”

  “Oh, a big truck.” They started walking toward it.

  “Need the space for the fifty bags of grain I’ll be picking up at the feed store.” He pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “I’ve also got a list of things to buy at the supermarket for Irma.”

  “I could fill that while you’re loading the grain,” Melanie offered.

  “Yeah, guess you could.”

  Melanie playfully socked him on the arm. “I’m sure you didn’t think of that yourself, did you?”

  “Never crossed my mind,” Collin said with a teasing grin.

  “Yeah, right,” she drawled with a grin of her own.

  The farther they got from the ranch, the more lighthearted Melanie felt. One could not leave troubles behind that easily, but on the road with her brother, in a rattling truck with the windows down and a warm breeze on her face, she was able to shove them to the back of her mind.

  “This is the reason I came to Montana,” she told Collin.

  “To take a ride in this old truck?”

  She laughed. “To spend time with you, silly! And with Granddad, of course.”

  “I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out the way you planned, Mel. It’s funny how everything happened at once…your visit…opening that damn box of Dad’s. I know Granddad was really happy you were coming, and then we went to the bank and everything changed. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure he was still glad you were coming. It’s just that the things we found in that box were such a shock. He’s wrestling with it all the time, you know.”