Royce woke to a warm body pressed up against him. His arm was around his wife; he pulled her tight against him, reveling in the feel of her body against his. His hand had moved to caress her curves when he realized that this wasn’t his Lucy, it was his new wife, Marta. He quickly pulled his hand away and flew from the bed.

He pulled on his pants from the night before, grabbed the least dirty shirt, and quickly exited the room. He needed to do something, anything, to get his body under control. In his not quite awake and aware state, he had responded to the curves pressed against him in the most natural way. He’d almost betrayed the memory of his love for Lucy. He needed to be more careful.

He finished dressing and went to the kitchen to start a fire in the stove and put on coffee. Then he went and filled the wood bucket so that Marta would have it when she got up. He’d go and take care of the early morning chores. Anything to give his body time to settle down before he had to face Marta this morning. He just prayed that she’d still been asleep and hadn’t realized what he’d almost done. How could his body betray him like that? He loved Lucy and had only been attracted to her for so long that he was a bit overwhelmed by the way he seemed to react to Marta.

Royce sat and began to milk the cow, but his thoughts strayed again to his lovely new wife and how perfect it had felt to hold her tight. He groaned in frustration. He wasn’t supposed to be attracted to her. He married her to take care of the house and children. Lucy was the love of his life; she had been since he was old enough to know the difference between boys and girls. While he may have the right to Marta and intimacy with her, he didn’t know her well enough yet. Even when they got to know each other he didn’t plan to take his rights often, only when need demanded. She wasn’t his wife for love, just to provide security for her and a helping hand with his domestic life for him.

He took the milk bucket, sat it on the table in the kitchen, and grabbed the basket to gather eggs. He entered the chicken enclosure and threw out some feed for the fowl, then entered the hen house and gathered the eggs while trying to sort out his thoughts and feelings for his new wife. Why had his body betrayed him like it had this morning? Was it just a physical response to the close proximity and lack of proper attire? Or was there something about Marta herself that had caused his reaction? It had to be nothing more than a remembered action; something that he and Lucy had done hundreds of times. Yes, that was what happened. His body wasn’t actually reacting to Marta; it was reacting to a warm female in his arms just like it had when Lucy was still the one in his arms and in his bed. With that thought, he was able to put the nagging thought that he wasn’t being honest with himself to rest. He’d just have to train himself not to react like that anymore. Nothing to it. Now that Marta was here, he could get back to ranching and work long and hard until he collapsed with exhaustion at night.

He carried the eggs into the kitchen and stopped at the door. Marta was at the table mixing up bread or biscuits; he didn’t know which. She was once again dressed in the drab tan dress she had worn when he first met her in town. She had a dark gray apron on over it to protect the dress. She looked the perfect example of a governess or nanny. But that wasn’t what stopped Royce in his tracks. It was the way her whole body seemed to be moving as she mixed the dough. While the dress may be dull to keep people from focusing on her, the way her perfect curves were dancing as she worked had Royce taking notice in ways he’d just convinced himself he wouldn’t.

He quickly moved to the table so that he could hide the effect her movements had on him. “Good morning.”

She blushed when she looked at him. He grimaced; she’d been awake, then, when he’d pawed her this morning. Royce cleared his throat. “Umm…about this morning…I apologize. I umm…wasn’t quite awake and my body reacted the way it used to with Lucy.”

Marta blushed again and bit her bottom lip. That did nothing but make him want to pull her into his arms again and nibble on it himself. She finally sighed and answered him. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re my husband and if you want to hold me and, umm, touch me, then you have every right to do so.”

He swallowed at the images her statement caused to fly through his mind. “That may be true, but that wasn’t the reason I married you. We agreed that you would become my wife to take care of my home and children, not my umm...physical needs. I assure you I am not the type of man to force my attentions on any woman, wife or not.”

She smiled shyly and nodded. “Then your apology is accepted. However, I must point out that we both know there will come a time when you will need to become more physical in our interactions. It is, after all, the way God created us.”

Royce wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but they both were old enough to know that she was right. “That is probably true. However, right now that is not necessary.”

She bit her lip again. “That was not what I was trying to say. I would appreciate it if we at least got to know each other a bit better before that point.”

Royce’s eyebrows dipped in concentration and confusion. “What did you have in mind?”

“It would be appreciated if we were to ease into more physical encounters.”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“Well, I was thinking that before you get to the point that you need me to fulfill all my wifely duties, it might be best if I got used to any kind of intimacy with you. For example, the only kiss we’ve shared was a very quick and chaste one at our wedding.”

He grinned knowing that now he could tease her. “Why, Mrs. Clark, are you asking me to kiss you properly?”

Marta blushed again and then straightened herself and nodded one single time. “I think it would be a good first step, don’t you?”

“I reckon it might at that.” Royce moved slowly, like a mountain lion stalking its prey, around the table to stand beside Marta who was kneading the dough as hard and fast as she could. He reached down and took her hands in his, turned her to face him, and looked into her whiskey-colored eyes, realizing that while they were mostly a light smoky-brown, there were starbursts of gold around the irises. “Your eyes are very pretty, Marta. Has anyone told you that before?”

She swallowed and shook her head. “I told you no one notices the help.”

His head moved closer to hers as he released her hands and moved to hold the back of her neck, drawing her ever closer as his eyes dropped to her full lips. “That’s their loss, Marta.” His voice had gone husky and breathless and before she could say anything, his lips claimed her. She stiffened for a moment as contact was made and then she relaxed and her arms came up around his neck. Her mouth responded to his and unexpectedly he felt a physical jolt as desire for this woman slammed fresh through his body. His kiss, which had been slightly less chaste than the one he’d given her at their wedding, quickly climbed to hungry, and he was passionately claiming her mouth with his own. She melted against him and his hand tightened around the short hairs at the back of her neck. She responded to the level of passion he was pouring into her, and he realized that he wanted his wife. That thought shocked him and he pulled back. He stepped away from her. What was he doing? Lucy wasn’t even three months in her grave, and he was devouring another woman’s mouth like his life depended on it.

He took another step away from her and turned before heading out of the kitchen. He pretended not to see the look of disappointment that crossed Marta’s face. He threw his statement back over his shoulder as he went out the door, “I’ve got work to see to before breakfast.” Then he all but fled. Now what was he going to do? He couldn’t deny the attraction that kiss had exposed; next best thing was to ignore it and pray that he’d be able to forget how perfect her lips had felt against his. How well her body had fitted his.

He stalked into the barn. He’d turn out the horses and start mucking the stalls even though that was part of his three wranglers’ jobs. However, today he’d do it because physical work was what he needed. That and as much time away from Marta Clark as he could reasonably make happen.

Marta watched as Royce stormed out of the house like his shirt tail was on fire. She couldn’t stop her hand from going to her lips. Nothing she’d ever experienced or even heard about had prepared her for the reality of her first ‘real’ kiss. The tingle that had started in her lips as he pressed his against hers had grown until it was a raging inferno running through her body as he’d responded to her acceptance of his lips. She didn’t know what he must think of her, but all she could do was hold on tight to him as her legs had turned to water. She’d leaned heavily on him, not wanting the feeling to ever end. All too soon, he’d pulled away. She wanted to yank him back against her, but she couldn’t even think of how to do so. Then he’d turned and all but run away from her.

What had she done that had caused him to pull away? Was she bad at kissing? Maybe she’d been too wanton. It was times like this she wished she’d grown up with a mother instead of in an orphanage with a bunch of nuns. She didn’t even have a friend who she could ask what she’d done wrong. A single tear slipped out of her eye and raced down her face. She wiped it and turned back to her bread dough. She quickly divided it and sat it on the windowsill to rise. She began to make a batter for pancakes. She’d not worry about it. Maybe if she fed him and got the house under control today, he’d kiss her again before they went to bed.

She set the batter to the side, grabbed bacon, and sliced several strips. She knew that Royce said his foreman would join them for breakfast. She’d make the best breakfast she could for them and prove he hadn’t made a mistake marrying her. She’d do whatever she needed to so that he’d want to keep her around. Having tasted him, she couldn’t even think of not feeling his lips on hers again. Or his strong hands on her waist and at the back of her head. She’d felt so small and dainty. Something she knew she wasn’t, but he’d made her feel that way and she wanted that feeling again.

She remembered seeing some dried apples in the root cellar and hurried down to grab some. She mixed some water and sugar in a pan with the apples and set them on a less hot part of the stove. She’d make an apple syrup to put on the pancakes since she didn’t see any maple syrup in the pantry. Then she started making the pancakes. She’d make sure both men had their fill of good food this morning. As she went about her task of preparing breakfast, she was mentally running over the list she and Rachel had made last night. She had water heating for laundry already. Once she’d fed the men, she’d start on the diapers she’d need for both the younger children. She could probably have them on the line drying before she’d have to get the children up for their breakfast. Dishes could wait till the children were finished eating; she’d have Rachel help her with those.

She had pulled the last of the pancakes off the stove, put a plate stacked high with them and a platter of bacon on the table when the front door opened and Royce came in with a slightly shorter older man in a well-worn pair of jeans and canvas shirt behind him. Had she not known the man was a cowboy, she would have thought he was a trapper or mountain man: his hair was sticking up every way and he sported a bushy, wild beard and mustache. Royce smiled at her and motioned to the man beside him. “Marta, this is Fuzzy Knight, my foreman. Fuzzy, my new wife, Marta.”

The older cowboy nodded to her. “Howdy, ma’am. I’m right pleased ta know ya. Reckon Royce here wouldn’t a made it many more days iffen he hadn’t found ya. Them young’uns are his pride and joy but he ain’t no good as a ma.”

Marta smiled at the older cowboy. “Yes, that was very obvious when I arrived yesterday, Mr. Knight.”

The ranch hand laughed, and it brought thoughts of Jolly ole Saint Nick to Marta’s mind. “It’s jest Fuzzy, ma’am. Ain’t no one ever accused me of being fancy enough to be called mister anything.”

“Well, Fuzzy, thank you for your warm welcome. You and Royce come and eat before your food gets cold.”

The two men sat at the table and began to fill their plates. Marta grabbed the coffee pot and filled their cups for them. Then she sat at the end of the table and filled her own plate as she listened to the two talk about what jobs they’d assign to each hand that day. They also talked about the rumor that some of their competitors had encountered rustlers.

“I’m thinkin’ we should start having a couple of the men riding guard on the herd at night, boss.”

Royce scratched his chin where his own beard was starting to get a bit wild. “I don’t know, Fuzzy. We don’t have any solid word of rustlers, just a couple of saloon rumors. I’ll ride over to talk to Jeffers later today. If he confirms the rumors, then maybe. I just hate to put more work on the boys.”

“I understand. I’m gonna have Slim and Buster bring the remuda in tonight and put ‘em in the barn. As much as I’d hate to lose beeves, losing them horses would be worse.”

Royce nodded, “I agree. I don’t want to lose cattle but it would be devastating to lose them horses. I’d have to either have Otto train more, or send a wire to Nathan Ryder or that new guy he told us about last time he was up here. What was his name? The rancher in Montana?”

Fuzzy thought for a minute, “Williams, weren’t it? Bought a bunch of mustangs offa Nugget Nate before he passed on. Was gonna train them to be cow ponies, weren’t he?”

Royce nodded, “Yep that was him. Still, can’t figure that would be cheap.”

“Reckon not.” Fuzzy turned his attention back to Marta. “These here are some mighty tasty vittles, Mrs. Clark. Ain’t never had a fluffier skillet cake. And that there topping is about the best thing I ever done put in my mouth.”

Marta smiled at him “Thank you, Fuzzy. I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

“Boss, we should introduce yer bride to the boys afore they ride out today. That way they’ll know ta keep an eye out fer her iffen they’re close by.”

Royce nodded, “Probably a good idea.” He looked at Marta. “What was your plan today?”

She thought for a minute. “I’m going to start on laundry and giving the house a good scrubbing. I’ll probably go through the pantry and root cellar and see what, if any, supplies I need. I also need to look at the children’s clothes and see what needs to be mended or let out as well.”

“Well, I don’t want you or the children leaving the ranch without an escort. While things have been a bit better since Archie was arrested, there are still too many men without scruples around for me to feel safe letting you all go anywhere alone.”

Marta wanted to protest but she thought about how easy it had been for Dougal to grab her and whisk her away without anyone the wiser. She nodded her acceptance. “That’s fine. We’ll be sticking around here today. I may take them all out for a walk after lunch, but we will stay on the ranch.”

“Even then, I want you to let one of the men know where you’re going and which direction. It’s dangerous out here, too.”

Marta nodded. She wondered, though, if he was worried about her safety or that of his children. Did it really matter, she asked herself and was surprised to find that the answer was yes, it did matter because she was already beginning to develop feelings for this broken, heartsick family and especially her husband.