Bewitching Bret Page 4

  “We’re not afraid of hard work,” Seth claimed.

  I had my doubts. “It takes more than a few bucks upfront to make a homestead claim.”

  “We’ve got more’n a few mites saved up.”

  “And you need more than a few acres to support a goodly herd.”

  “We were hoping to get adjoinin’ claims and go in together.” Seth nodded to his brother.

  “Plus you’ll have to clear the scrub, irrigate, build a cabin and a barn. Buy livestock, seeds...”

  “Seeds?”

  “You’ll want a small garden to put away food for the winter.” I stared off into the sunny sky. “Which’ll be here sooner rather than later, boys.”

  “Well…” Seth and Sean shared a look of silent communication between them. “…we was hoping we might hire on with you all as hands through the winter at least. You know…learn the ropes and all that. See what we need to plan for.”

  Shit. That’s what I was afraid of. This was a matter for Cole, and I was in no place to make or accept any sort of employment offers, especially to a couple of young dreamers who were apt to leave at the first sign of real work.

  And were guaranteed to be more trouble than they were worth – regardless of the fact they were Carstons.

  But I could at least offer them a bunk tonight. “Cole’s the one who hires the hands, and he’s away for a few days.” I hated to admit that, but they’d find out soon enough anyway. “But I can offer you a warm and dry place to sleep for a night…or two.”

  Even though that meant neither Drew nor I would sleep a wink until the wagon showed up on the horizon, carting in even more trouble.

  And I was sure to have a fight on my hands when Essie found out I was putting family in the bunkhouse – but I was bound and determined to stand firm with her.

  At least this time.

  Chapter Five

  Estella

  I was quite put out with Bret by the time we turned our horses toward the homestead.

  The entire ride home he kept Nightmare on a tether on the Black Prince’s far right side while his cousins rode side-by-side on his left. That made any conversation to get to know the two young men difficult at best.

  Particularly when I had so many questions I wished to ask them – even after our meeting had occurred at a most embarrassing and exposed moment. I was no stranger to public displays, after having purposely exposed myself in a liaison with a lover to get out of a desperate situation in Baltimore.

  My demise in the eyes of society at least secured my release from an engagement to that sniveling Alan Westford, which served my intended objective rather well. Otherwise, I never would have considered moving from the comforts of the modernized east for the wilds of the western frontier – and discovered the greatest loves I’d ever known with my new family.

  And now I better understood which side of said family mine and Cole’s boys had come from with another pair of Carston twins riding nearby.

  Seth and Sean had the same honey-colored hair of most of my husbands, as well as the sparkling green eyes. Glancing at the two young men, I could almost imagine what my sweet little Jake and Jude might look like in another decade or two.

  Twenty years. My boys had yet to turn three, and already I had fleeting images of them as strong, capable men following in their father’s footsteps. Would they find joy in sharing a wife together, or would the Montana Territory provide more than enough females in that time for them to each claim a wife of their own?

  Only time would tell that story.

  For now, I’d have to get to know these two new family members – if Bret ever stepped aside and allowed me to do so.

  Sleeping in the bunkhouse indeed. Seth and Sean were family, and neither family nor close friend ever slept outdoors or with the hired hands when we had a perfectly good house for them.

  No, we didn’t have enough beds available, what with Abby’s coming arrival and with Bret having to sleep in his old room again. But they could easily lay out their bedrolls in one of the unfinished rooms upstairs.

  But Bret wouldn’t hear of it. His clipped tone when I tried to argue the point sounded more like Cole than my normally thoughtful husband, and quieted my questions for the remainder of the ride home.

  But I wasn’t nearly done with this argument. Not by a longshot that Evan could make from his rifle with his eyes closed.

  However, it was Drew’s eyes that widened when he came out of his workshop off the barn to see the four of us riding up, Meghan and my twins scrambling to a stop beside him when they noticed the strangers riding in with us atop their mounts.

  “Well, I declare,” Drew said, shoving his hat back from his face to reveal that perpetual grin I so loved. “Seth and Sean. Haven’t seen y’all around these parts in…well, more than a little while.”

  “Been busy with the claim,” one of them stated.

  “Where’s your pa?”

  “Dead and buried,” Bret replied for them rather abruptly.

  “Bret,” I admonished as Jake and Jude skittered into my skirts to hug my legs when I dismounted.

  He didn’t say anything in reply as he took Nightmare’s reins and headed off with our horses into the stable. Meghan followed after her father with a glance over her shoulder again at our twin cousins.

  Drew took their leads and tied the twins’ horses to the nearest hitching post before sticking his head in the barn to call to one of our hired hands to care for the animals.

  I brushed my hands over my skirts. “You two must be hungry for a nice, hot meal after your travels. Please, come inside. I’ve got some biscuits and preserves left from this morning’s breakfast that will tide you over while I start supper. There might even be some pie left from last night’s dinner, if Drew hasn’t found it yet.”

  “That’d be mighty nice of you, ma’am,” one twin said.

  “After weeks in the saddle, anything’s better than hardtack and jerky, ma’am,” the other replied.

  Two ma’am’s. Whatever complaints my husbands might have against their cousins, they couldn’t fault their good manners.

  I grabbed my boys’ sticky and dirt-crusted hands and escorted everyone into the house for a seat at the table. There wasn’t any way I could serve food to one set of twins without the younger two howling for their own. So after enduring a quick scrubbing of hands and little faces, my sons joined their cousins at the table.

  Right about the same time, Bret came storming through the front door with Meghan in his arms and Drew on his heels. My dusky husband didn’t even bother to remove his hat when he brushed by me.

  “I’d like to see you in the kitchen, Estella,” Bret mumbled. “Now.”

  I was Estella instead of Essie. I had no idea what had gotten into my husband, but Bret was definitely revealing a hint of the Carston temper that had lain mostly dormant in him.

  Until today.

  Dark eyes narrowed in Drew’s direction with a nod between them before he spun on his heel again and headed around the corner. Like a dutiful wife, I followed.

  But that’s as far as my sense of duty went – and only because I was damn curious what had gotten into this man.

  Bret settled Meghan to the floor as I pulled a few plates and tableware from the cabinet. “Meghan, honey? Take these to the table for me, please.”

  I’d barely settled them into her outstretched hands before her father placed a hand on our daughter’s shoulder. “No, Meg. Go over to the corner and play with your doll.”

  Questioning gray eyes stared up at me. “Take these plates to the table for me, dear.”

  With a glance back at her father, Meghan did as I’d instructed and skittered away the moment Bret released her. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together. He could grind them away to dust, for all I cared in that moment.

  “How dare you contradict my direction right in front of our daughter,” I hissed, doing my best to keep anyone in the next room from overhearing.

  “You
just sent my daughter out there to wait on strangers,” Bret countered. So calm. So controlled. But I still saw the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

  My voice rose. “They’re family.”

  “Not to her, they aren’t.”

  So now we were toying with semantics. Arguing with Cole was one thing. We both grew heated rather quickly and had our say with one another before cooler heads prevailed – and sent us for a tumble between the sheets.

  But this was all new with Bret. Never once had he raised his voice to me, but I’d come to recognize the signs of anger or frustration expressed in other ways.

  The clench of his jaw. Twitch of the muscle below his left eye. The stiffness in his bearing, arms crossed over his chest as if to hold everything he was feeling inside.

  But it was the eyes that always told the story. A story filled with sadness. And fear. The windows of his soul were like a churning storm waiting to be unleashed on a world that saw him only for the color of his skin.

  And the savage that lay beneath.

  I, however, knew the truth about my devoted lover – and no amount of anger stirring in his depths would ever make me fear him.

  I crossed my arms to match his. “Do you mind telling me what has gotten into you, husband?”

  Just as my men had their own pet names for me, so I usually called mine by various ones as well. With his slow and sensual ways, Bret was typically the only one I used the endearment of my love for. But not today. Not when he was acting far more like Cole.

  “Do you mind telling me why you invited those two into the house?” His eyes betrayed not mirth at parroting me, but frustration.

  “It is customary out here to invite friends and family into our home, is it not? Especially ones who are in mourning.”

  He chuffed. “I doubt they’re mourning all that much.”

  I gasped in shock at the coldness of his words. “How can you say that when their father just died?”

  “Quite easily, I assure you.”

  “You’re being most unfair…and uncharacteristically unkind.” I swiped the corner of my eye so Bret wouldn’t see the tears trying to develop.

  He stared at the floor with a shake of his head. “Cole will shit his drawers when he finds out you sat his sons at the same table as those two.”

  My hands itched for something to do. Anything to do. I reached past him to grab the tin of leftover biscuits and checked the breadbox to make sure Drew hadn’t pilfered the last few pieces apple pie. “Whatever you have against them, I doubt Seth or Sean will succeed in corrupting our sons over the course of a simple meal.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  Bret leaned against the cabinets and tried to adopt his usual casual stance. However, with his arms crossed over his chest, he appeared anything but.

  I dug into the upper cabinet for a fresh jar of apple butter and also snagged the blackberry preserves before whirling around. “Then pray, please enlighten me.”

  Bret watched me fritter about for a moment, arraying everything on a tray to take to our guests. Thank heavens Meghan had wisely avoided returning to the kitchen. I didn’t think it healthy for our daughter to hear her father speaking out so against family.

  Our lovely day together was completely forgotten. I wasn’t used to arguing with Bret. I always reveled in his calm, assuring presence and the loving stroke of his body against mine. This side of him was so utterly foreign, I felt unsure of my footing.

  And I was barely burgeoning with child yet.

  Bret stared silently, brooding behind those rich and smoky depths. When he was truly angry, he grew very quiet. Stilled as if he’d burst if he so much as spoke or moved. But I would wait him out – no matter how long it took for him to open his mouth.

  His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly before he released his breath like the huff of a steam engine before drawing in close to where I waited. I shivered from the heat flowing off of him in waves. But it only took a moment more to realize it wasn’t from anger.

  Even though he didn’t touch me, his concern was palpable. A quick glance around the corner, then he leaned forward with his voice low. “Their father was a thief and a liar who was more interested in swindling two nickels from an unsuspecting fool than actually doing the hard work to earn it…and his fruit didn’t fall very far from that tree.”

  I searched the angular planes of Bret’s sun-kissed face. “But the loss of their father might very well dissuade them from continuing in his footsteps.”

  “Unless they were the ones that killed him.”

  My jaw loosened. I was without words for several breaths until the full weight of my husband’s accusation fell upon me.

  “That’s preposterous,” I scoffed rather forcefully, then lowered my voice again. “Those two do not possess the cold-blooded countenance of murderers.”

  “As if you know so well what such men look like.”

  I shivered with the only memory of such a man. In all my years, I’d never forget the fathomless abyss of a certain man’s countenance, a name I refused to ever think or speak again. A man who’d followed me all the way to Carston Ranch. A man who’d wanted me for nothing more than to sell my body.

  A man who would’ve killed to obtain what he thought was rightfully his.

  “Then tell me, Bret, what would Seth and Sean gain from murdering their own flesh and blood?”

  He traced his fingertips along the ruffled edge of my bodice, skin grazing skin in a way that always filled me with the ache of need. “They’d stand to inherit their father’s mining claim…which could be worth a lot of money if he finally found something truly worthy of all those years digging around in the dirt.”

  I took a deep, shuddering breath. “If that’s so, why would they abandon that for which they killed their father?”

  Bret shrugged, his dark eyes taking on a hunger that always simmered beneath the surface, waiting to consume us both.

  “They would if they had a posse hot on their tail.” His tone took on a rough edge that stopped the brush of his fingers. “And steered clear of them by coming all the way out here.”

  “Or leading them here,” I whispered in realization of my husband’s logic.

  An arm snaked around my waist and clung desperately to me. “Endangering our family.”

  I pondered the idea for a moment. While it was true, I had no previous interactions to go off of like my husbands did, I still couldn’t puzzle out the dichotomy of Bret’s words of warning with the twins open and friendly countenances. Perhaps it was merely the family resemblance that left my thoughts so at odds.

  I rested a hand against Bret’s strong chest. “Did either of them say something by the river while I dressed that leads you to such a conclusion?”

  The hint of a frown marred his dusky features before he shook his head. “Not…exactly.”

  “Then your concerns are based solely on supposition.” I patted his chest. “You of all people should understand how insupportable such biases can be.”

  Bret started to open his mouth, but I rested a finger against his full lips.

  “Let’s all sit down together and see if we can ascertain their intentions with a little more certainty before making unfounded accusations.” A gentle kiss that promised something more, then I drew back from his hungry lips. “They’re still young, after all, and maybe a little helpful family influence can soften their rough edges.”

  “Essie…,” Bret murmured as I slipped from his arms to grab the tray and held it between us.

  At least he’d returned to using the term of endearment instead of the formal utterance of my name. “Give them a chance to explain, Bret. They’re still Carstons, after all.”

  Even if their presence was going to complicate an already complicated situation.

  Chapter Six

  Bret

  Cole and Evan couldn’t get home fast enough.

  It took a lot of convincing, but Essie finally capitulated to Seth and Sean sleeping in the bunkhouse
, only after I agreed to let them take meals with us. That way she could get to know these long-lost family members better and somehow have an influence to counter their nefarious ways.

  If only it were that easy.

  Their father ended up being one of the worst influences when it came to what it took to be a man. A real man. Someone who worked hard and took care of his own. Someone devoted to more than just his own selfish desires.

  That’s all these boys knew thus far – and it’d take more than wintering over as ranch hands to overcome the only life lessons they’d ever learned.

  But once again, I let Essie convince me to let them stay. For now.

  However, all bets were off once Cole returned. My oldest brother would have the final say about what to do with his twin cousins.

  In the meantime, Drew and I set them to work the next morning around the ranch so we might keep a close watch. My youngest brother started the day with them in the fields, harvesting the ripening fall crops of corn, beans, potatoes, and squash before the coming winter.

  But I wasn’t about to drift very far from the house. Not when I had a wife and a little girl to protect. Not when responsibility fell solely upon my shoulders to guard our family in my older brothers’ absence.

  With a nearly two-year old colt ready for training, I kept to the corral off the stables where I could keep an eye out across our fields and enclosed pastures. It also allowed me a good view of the trail, though my brothers weren’t expected over the rise for a few more days yet.

  And with still another guest in tow.

  Last night, I’d laid with Essie contentedly asleep in my arms in our bed. Moonlight had played over her lovely features, relaxed in sweet repose after a day of vigorous fucking under the sun – until Seth and Sean had showed up to ruin it all.

  Never before had I argued with my wife. That was usually Cole’s job as the head of our household. Even now, I could feel the tension just waiting to explode the moment he discovered the arrival of the Carston cousins.

  I’d laid there mulling over how the arguing had initially started about Essie’s sister. Then progressed to sleeping arrangements. Then our children.