Bewitching Bret Read online

  Only talk of family could fuck up an otherwise beautiful day – and once again it was over my Sioux heritage.

  My differences to the rest of the Carston clan were always a sore spot that I kept buried deep beneath the surface. The way others had looked at me the few times we’d gone into town when I was young. The manner in which I was summarily dismissed from veterinary school before the term had even begun.

  Even the way Cole had treated me before Essie’s arrival five years ago. And I’d never forgotten the way she’d shied away from me when she’d awakened after her tumultuous arrival to the ranch. Though our love had blossomed rapidly after that, her initial reaction still sat like a rock in my stomach when I allowed my thoughts to churn over it.

  Something I’d had no reason to think on in years – until yesterday.

  On the outside, I always maintained the façade of calm. Introspective. Controlled.

  But inside, my heart raged at the injustices I’d endured over my lifetime. Angered over the disrespect shown me at every slight and haughty sniff as we’d gone into town or from even new hands when they first arrived. Those who didn’t learn pretty quick that I was an accepted family member – and their boss – were shown the door.

  If everyone only knew what boiled beneath the surface, the world would see me for the savage they already thought I was.

  So if Essie was determined to go through with this charade of appearing to have taken only Cole for a husband, then we might as well start with getting this herd down the trail. After one last look at my wife as she’d slept peacefully last night, I’d carefully disentangled my body from hers and made my way to my old room upstairs.

  My cold, dark, empty room. Good thing I didn’t plan on getting much sleep with Seth and Sean around, because I spent the entire night tossing and turning. Alone in a now unfamiliar bed. Aching to have Essie’s warmth pressed against me.

  But I’d had plenty of time to think through the long watches of the night. My children and I might carry the name of the Carston family, but we’d never truly be one in the eyes of society.

  Or in Essie’s, it seemed.

  The colt’s sharp whinny pulled me from the depths of my despairing thoughts of last night and sharpened my attention as he pulled at the lead and kicked his forelegs out. I sidestepped just in time to avoid injury.

  “Hey there, boy,” I soothed, shushing and cooing to the Black Prince’s high-spirited offspring until I was able to draw closer.

  That pure black Arabian stallion had come to the ranch at the same time as our wife five years ago. Ebony tail blowing in the breeze like my long hair. Dark coat glistening beneath the sun’s rays. And an enormous cock always ready to claim one of my mares. I’d felt an immediate kinship with the animal.

  I’d never had the pleasure of seeing such a magnificent horse – or woman. Essie had actually had a hand in naming the incredible creature and had watched with me that night as I’d overseen his first mating with Nightmare.

  The night we’d also first made love.

  I sighed and smoothed my hand over the colt’s muzzle and forehead then down his neck as I slowly crept deeper into his territory. His outburst and flailing had probably come because he sensed the tension in my swirling thoughts over what had transpired last night, so I fought to put them aside.

  Training required focus, something I was sorely lacking this morning. But I’d better find it again, or I’d end up with a broken leg or rib.

  Or worse – a cracked skull. And this time, there wasn’t a doctor around to save me.

  I’d never forgiven myself for what had happened to my little brother. Essie had stopped asking long ago when I remained silent about that nasty scar on Drew’s head. She’d apparently asked him about it on the long journey from Fort Union, but he’d refused to provide her with a satisfactory answer.

  Hell, he probably didn’t remember a thing about what had led up to the awful event. I only wished I could forget it too.

  “There now,” I murmured, stroking my fingers along the colt’s neck and over his shoulder before trailing upward again toward his back to acclimate him to my touch. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

  The beautiful creature was used to me entering his stall to feed and brush him, or running around the corral at his mother’s side. But this was the first time he’d ever been tethered and led alone out into the open. Now it was just me and him.

  Like it had been yesterday with Essie.

  He jerked against the lead as the wind blew tendrils of my long hair over his forehead, but he quickly settled with my familiar scent.

  “You know me, don’t you boy?”

  Keeping one hand on his back, I slowly traced along his side and under his girth as I made my way along his sleek body. Getting him used to my touch in places the brush never went. His belly was silky soft – like Essie’s skin.

  The colt gave a gentle nicker and slapped one hoof in the dust as he flicked his tail as if he might shoo me away like an irritating fly. His withers quivered with my slow, careful movement, getting him used to sensations on his back and stomach before saddle training began in earnest.

  “I love to watch you work.”

  Essie’s quiet mutter sent the horse shying a few steps away from me, but I didn’t break eye contact with the animal.

  Instead I kept my response low and tried my best not to allow frustration to creep into my tone. “Which is harder to do with you here.”

  “Then I’ll be silent.”

  The colt jerked again at the lead, and I released it to allow him free rein to trot around the small, circular corral.

  I brushed my hands on my trousers and strode over to the fence where I’d tossed the saddle blanket I planned to use later.

  Right where my wife stood – or better Cole’s wife, as I had to force myself to think of her. “What do you want, Essie?”

  I stilled when she laid a hand along my arm, as if I were the skittish colt who needed training. “You weren’t in our bed when I woke this morning.”

  I grunted. “I didn’t think it was our bed anymore.”

  She sighed. “Please don’t be like this, Bret.”

  “Like what?” I tossed the blanket across my shoulders in a plume of dust the wind kicked up.

  “There has to be a rational part of you that understands how all this will look to my sister when she arrives.”

  “Yep, I do,” I responded, turning my attention back to the colt now on the far side of the corral. “Which is why I moved upstairs to my old room.”

  “But we still have a few days we can spend together before she arrives.”

  Her hand heated mine as she grasped at it, but I refused to turn around and embrace her touch. If I drowned in those deep, blue eyes, my resolve would dissipate faster than a dry thunderstorm in August. I’d be tempted to lift her skirts and take her right here against the corral railing. To claim her.

  And proclaim to the world that she was mine too.

  But I just stepped farther away from her willing warmth. “It’ll give us time to get used to the separation then.”

  I felt the tremble in her whispered words all the way through my body like a biting winter wind. “What if I…I don’t want that? Not yet.”

  I stopped and hung my head with a heavy sigh. The screen door squealed then closed with a clatter as we both glanced over to see Meg standing on the porch. Lost and alone without her mother nearby.

  And reflecting in the very depths of her skin the love Essie and I had shared like nothing else ever would. “Like you said, it’ll only be a couple of weeks.”

  Silence. Then the scraping of her shoes in the dirt was the only response as my beloved Essie stumbled toward the house to gather up our little girl in her arms.

  Just like what I wanted to do with her mother.

  Meg’s insistent demand rang loud and clear across the yard before the door clattered shut. “But I wanna watch Papa with the horsey, dammit!”

  At this rate, my little g
irl didn’t stand a chance out in the world. Those who weren’t frightened off by her savage looks would gasp and turn their noses up at every foul word that spilled from her lips.

  I shook off the worry and fatigue from overseeing the family to focus again on the colt. Slowly I made my way toward him. Allowed him to familiarize himself with my touch all over again. My scent.

  Just like I’d have to do again with Essie when these fucking family visits were all over with.

  If she still wanted me by then.

  Chapter Seven

  Estella

  The days dragged on with no sign of the wagon, my sister, or Cole and Evan. All the while, my bed remained as empty as the harvested fields.

  No amount of prodding or cajoling brought Bret back to my bed. Drew hadn’t even tried to sneak in between my sheets, having grown accustomed to coming to my bed only when invited.

  And I was sorely tempted to invite him each night as I laid there, tossing and turning just waiting for the first light of approaching dawn to tinge the sky outside the bedroom window. Five years had passed since the last time I’d slept alone. Now, I found it impossible to find rest without at least one warm and strong Carston man by my side.

  And his firm manhood.

  However, I held off asking Drew to come to me simply to avoid yet another uncomfortable confrontation should the wagon arrive after sundown in a last-push drive. My careful planning would all be for naught if my sister stepped through the front door only to find someone other than Cole in my bed.

  After the argument that had ensued between me and Bret, I had no desire to repeat that strained possibility with the youngest brother. It was why I sent him off in the morning with a simple kiss on the cheek instead of the lips, which was hard enough to get him to understand.

  “Aw, come on, Ella,” Drew cajoled, wrapping his arms around my waist and drawing me close in front of the breakfast crowd. “Give us a real kiss this morning.”

  “Drew,” I admonished with a playful smack to his firm chest. “Not when we have guests.”

  I’d tried countless times in the past to get Drew to not be so amorous when company happened to visit, such as during the home addition when volunteers had swarmed in to assist. But it was rare that we had visitors on the ranch, which meant I had to redouble my efforts this time.

  Something I didn’t have to do when it came to Bret of late. He didn’t even look up as Drew finally succeeded in stealing a kiss.

  “Oh, they don’t mind, do ya cousins?”

  “Nope,” said who I believe was Seth as he shoveled in the last of his eggs before he stood beside his twin and snatched up the last piece of sausage from the platter with a grin that reminded me of Drew. “Thank you for another fine meal, Mrs. Carston.”

  “You’re more than welcome.” I’d never tire of hearing compliments on my cooking abilities, which had vastly improved over the years.

  “We’ll be gettin’ outta your way now, ma’am” Sean said, casting a frown at his still masticating brother before addressing Bret. “Where can you use us today, now that most of the fields are harvested?”

  Bret grabbed his hat. “Remember how to muck a stall?”

  “Reckon we do.”

  “Then come on out to the stables and help me with the horses.”

  “Can I come too, Papa?” Meghan asked, scooting from the dining chair.

  “You’ll have to ask your mama.”

  For the first time since we’d sat down over breakfast, dark eyes connected with mine in silent question. Instead of the deep pools of unbridled passion, my gaze met hardened obsidian.

  My stomach clenched. I flinched as I realized my husband had locked me out of his heart. I only hoped it wasn’t out of his life.

  I bent to wipe sticky jam from our daughter’s mouth with a corner of my apron. “If it’s alright with your papa, then go ahead.”

  Meghan squealed and leapt into her father’s ready arms. His smile was reserved only for our daughter as he strolled with her out the door.

  Leaving me not only without a kiss but without a backward glance.

  I stifled the sob that threatened to surface as I made quick work of cleaning up my boys and sending them tumbling off to play in the nursery while I gathered the dirty dishes from the table to plop in the kitchen sink. Droplets splattered up and joined the tears on my cheeks until I angrily swiped them away.

  How dare Bret be so unreasonable. Had he been away from civilization so long that he’d forgotten how the world operated beyond Carston Ranch?

  These last years when my men left for town, Bret stayed behind to care for his beloved horses – and make passionate love to me. It was about the only time these days that we had opportunity to ourselves. I cherished the chance to spend hours wrapped in each other’s arms over any occasion to browse storefronts for the latest fashions in town.

  And endure the whispers in my wake.

  On the rare occasion when the entire family had made the long journey into town, I’d quickly remembered why I’d escaped the confines of the home and family I’d grown up with to find a new home with the Carston clan.

  The hushed titters behind my back. The scowls. The clipped responses to my questions about this fabric or when they might expect delivery of that order.

  The open stares at my children.

  I’d learned early on that the Carston lifestyle was an open secret in these parts. Even though I was treated little better than the painted ladies hanging around the saloon, not a single soul, from the general store to the milliner, balked at accepting Carston money. Nor did they mind purchasing furniture from Drew or buying a horse from Bret.

  But I now had a better understanding of the hesitation behind the few interactions I’d had upon my entering Fort Union when sharing my intended’s name. The Carston family name carried some respect out here. Perhaps even a bit of fear. But unfortunately that respect didn’t extend to all of us.

  Particularly when it came to my dusky husband.

  In a territory so vast and devoid of available women, no doubt we weren’t the only family practicing the sharing of love. If only society understood and embraced the heart’s unending capacity.

  And if only that included my sister, I wouldn’t be dealing with this heartbreak, temporarily though it may be.

  Or at least I hoped.

  Boots thundered across the front porch as I pulled a pan of fresh, steaming cornbread from the oven to pair with the hearty bean soup I’d prepared for lunch. But it wasn’t a herd of hungry men ready to down a quick meal.

  Drew poked his head around the kitchen corner, holding onto his askew hat. “I spotted ‘em…coming along the yonder ridge.”

  “Spotted who, Drew?” I asked, cutting wedges to be more easily devoured.

  “The wagon. Your sister.”

  My heart leapt and stomach dropped all at once. I fluttered around in a flurry of skirts and apron, doing my best to wipe my hands. “How long until they drive up in the yard?”

  “Fifteen…twenty minutes tops.”

  I tugged the apron over my head and thrust it on the wall peg. “Check on the boys and make sure they’ve managed to keep themselves relatively clean. Where’s Meghan?”

  “Bret’s on his way in with her,” Drew called over his shoulder as he left to do my bidding.

  I rushed to my room and washed my face and hands in the basin before tucking, twisting, and re-pinning loose strands of my hair in place. A quick pinch added a needed dash of color to my cheeks.

  Oh, my clothes. What would Abby think of my hand-sewn wool skirt and lovely but simple shirtwaist? I’d become a much more capable seamstress since my arrival in the Montana Territory, but my efforts were still far less refined than what I’d last seen in Glendive’s shops.

  With four husbands and three children, I’d foregone all the ribbons and lace in favor of minimal embroidery for mine and Meghan’s attire. My backside hadn’t seen a bustle nor my waist a corset in almost five years of marriage.
/>   I quickly dug through the armoire and pulled from the back a deep blue, waist-length travel jacket I hadn’t worn in an age and was surely out of date. The buttons strained over my burgeoning bosom, but I succeeded in getting every last one secured before the clomp and scrape of another set of boots sounded at the front door.

  I didn’t even give Bret an opportunity to comment or question. “Help Meghan undress and wash up while I find her a frock to put on.”

  Bret tossed our daughter over his shoulder and sent her boots to the floor before standing her on our bed.

  Correction – mine and Cole’s bed.

  “But I don’t wanna put on a fucking frog.”

  “Frock,” I corrected. “It’s another name for a pretty dress.” I dampened a cloth and attacked the dust and grime coating her little face. “And watch your language, young lady. Do you want to give your Aunt Abby a coronary on your first meeting?”

  Stormy gray eyes narrowed as her nose scrunched up. “What’s a cora…cora-fairy?”

  “Coronary,” Bret said, pulling the tiny shirt over our daughter’s head to expose her skin. Her unnaturally tanned skin. “It’s where someone’s heart…breaks.”

  The word hung heavy in the air. My fluttering slowed, but I didn’t have more than a moment to spare for his pointed and accusing stare as I handed over the cleaning cloth. And I didn’t have time to waste right now, worrying over things that couldn’t be changed.

  “Like that cup Jude broke the other day?” I heard Meghan ask her father as I rushed through the connecting door into the nursery.

  But I still caught Bret’s throaty response as I searched through the children’s clothes for the right dress. “Something like that.”

  Drew had the twins shining with fresh faces and was buttoning up Jake’s shirt. I offered a nod of approval and hurried back to dress my daughter in clothes she’d be lucky to keep clean for all of five minutes.

  I surveyed her appearance as she fidgeted on the bed. I’d specifically chosen a deep plum instead of something lighter-colored to avoid highlighting her sun-drenched tone even more. But nothing could hide who my daughter truly was.