Joe's Wife. Cheryl St.John

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unwound the reins from the brake handle and flicked them over the horses’ backs.

      Tye watched her go and told himself that the anticipation already warming his blood was due to the stroke of luck in having a site for his innovative business dropped into his lap.

      But the word wife echoed teasingly in his head. A thought entered his awareness too late. Perhaps he should have mentioned he’d soon be getting a child to raise. Lottie couldn’t last much longer, and he’d promised her that he would come for Eve.

      Maybe Meg wouldn’t even mind; after all, she wanted children.

      There would be time to tell her later.

      Chapter Four

      

      

      Tye Hatcher wanted children.

      Meg turned the lamp wick down low, removed her clothing and pulled a snowy white linen night shift over her head and buttoned it up to her throat.

      Of course he wanted children. Now that he’d brought it up, she might as well get used to the fact that this was going to be a marriage in all respects. She would follow through on her part of the arrangement. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t given a lot of consideration to bringing him here.

      She fell to her knees beside the hide-upholstered trunk at the foot of the bed and raised the lid, Reverently, she ran her hands over Joe’s shirts, fingered a hairbrush with a few fair strands still caught in the bristles, and took out a packet of letters held together by a faded ribbon.

      Joe had wanted children, too.

      These letters were filled with dreams for their future, plans for the ranch, words of caring and commitment. She didn’t want to read them just now. She knew exactly how long it took to read them all, where Joe’d been when he’d written each one, and the post from which each envelope had been mailed.

      She knew, too, the bittersweet feelings of melancholy and heartache that swamped her when she allowed herself to open and read them. Those moments were best saved for nights when she could handle the feelings of abandonment and loss.

      This wasn’t one of them.

      Meg replaced the stack of letters carefully, closed the trunk and, after blowing out the lantern, climbed into bed.

      She and Joe had wanted a family.

      Each month her body prepared for a baby, and each month came and went without hope for a seed being planted. She was still young though; her body was still firm and strong.

      Tye Hatcher was the means to help her fulfill all of her and Joe’s dreams. The ranch. The stock. The children to inherit the land.

      That’s how Joe would want it.

      She snuggled deep into the coverlet and rubbed her feet against each other for warmth. She would tell Mother Telford tomorrow. Harley and Niles would have to spare her their condescending offers and their patronizing attitudes. She wasn’t going to be put off her ranch now or ever.

      Tye Hatcher would help her see to that.

      A bolt of unease rocked her midsection and shot a shiver up her spine. She’d known Tye Hatcher since they were children. He was right, about his treatment by the community. She’d told him she didn’t care what the citizens of Aspen Grove thought of her. She wanted with all her heart for that to be true.

      She would make it true.

      Tye couldn’t help who his parents had been. It was unfair of people to treat him cruelly because of things that were beyond his control.

      She could help them see that.

      Joe and Tye had never been friends exactly, but Joe had never treated Tye badly, either. This was what Joe would have wanted her to do. Assuring herself of that, she hugged a feather pillow to her breast.

      Saturday.

      In six days she would marry Tye Hatcher and bring him to the ranch.

      Five more nights alone in this bed.

      And then she’d be Tye’s wife.

      

      It hadn’t gone well. Not well at all. But then Meg hadn’t expected her announcement to be met with congratulations and hugs of encouragement. Edwina Telford had turned as red as a pickled beet and fairly exploded with indignation. “You can’t be serious!” she’d screeched, bringing Wilsie on the run.

      “I am serious, Mother Telford,” Meg had said before Edwina could gather up enough steam to roll over her. “And nothing you can say or do will dissuade me. I’ve made up my mind that I’m going to keep the ranch, and this is how I aim to do it.”

      Wilsie brought smelling salts and waved the bottle under her mother’s nose. “My poor Joe will turn over in his grave, God rest his soul,” the woman moaned, wringing her lace handkerchief. “His wife taking up with the likes of that—that good-for-nothing illegitimate rakehell! O-oh! I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again.”

      “Joe would want me to do whatever it took to hang on to our ranch,” Meg disagreed, refusing to be swayed by her mother-in-law’s histrionics. “It’s not you who’s marrying Tye Hatcher—”

      “Don’t speak that name to me!”

      “It’s me, and you don’t have to approve of what I’m doing. I’m doing it no matter what anyone thinks. There’s no law against it. I’m an adult and a free woman, and I’ll marry whomever I please. Harley and Niles will have to forsake their plans to disburse my land. It’s going to stay mine.”

      “Yours! It’s going to fall into the hands of that man, and who knows what he’ll do with it or what will become of you after he’s drunk and gambled away your last dollar!”

      “He promised me he would never sell.”

      “Promised? What good is the promise of a heathen like that? Meg Telford, you’ve lost your mind! He’ll make you miserable. He’ll take you down with him! Why, he spends his money and his time in the saloons. He drinks and consorts with floozies! I’ve a notion to send you to the doctor in...”

      And so it had gone, with Edwina ranting about Meg dishonoring Joe’s memory, and poor Wilsie trembling and casting Meg fearful sidelong glances. Meg had driven the team home, fully expecting Harley to be close on her heels. He hadn’t arrived until after the accounting office where he worked had closed for the day.

      And then she’d gone over the same arguments with him. Mother Telford had a room all ready for her. Meg wouldn’t have to bother herself with the running of a ranch. Edwina needed the company. Tye Hatcher was a sorry excuse for a man. He would ruin her good name and hurt her.

      But Meg had stood her ground, firm in her belief that she was doing the right thing—the only thing—to keep Joe’s ranch. Harley had ridden off, anger and disapproval leaving a dusty trail behind him.

      It was too much to expect them to understand this soon, she could see that, but they would

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