“Are you disappointed?”
“You certainly can’t expect me to answer that so soon.” She was becoming more and more distressed.
There was amusement in his voice. “Honey, your first look at me told you whether you were disappointed or not.”
“Looks do not make the man,” Sharisse heard herself say primly.
She was appalled to find she had defended him, complimented him without meaning to. She had wanted him to feel her disdain.
There he was, grinning again. And she realized that even though they had talked for quite a while, she knew nothing about him. She dared a direct question of her own. “You aren’t arrogant, are you?”
“I don’t like to think so.”
She went further. “Domineering?”
He chuckled. “Me? Ride roughshod over a pretty thing like you? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Why did she have the distinct feeling that he was teasing her? She fell silent, giving up for the moment.
Six
Willow leaned against the frame of the open door and stared at the cloud of dust in the distance. Her house, a one-room structure, was small by white standards. But she was used to a low-domed wickiup made of brushwood and grass, a home that could be burned when it was time to move on, so this house of sturdy wood seemed huge. She had got used to it in the two years since her husband had brought her here to live, away from her tribe and family.
Willow was only a quarter White Mountain Apache. Another quarter was Mexican. The other half, thanks to a bastard who had raped her mother, was some unknown mixture of white. Yet she appeared full-blooded Apache, and she took a deep sense of pride from this.
“He comes, Billy,” Willow said in her soft, melodious voice.
Billy Wolf came up behind his wife to watch the cloud of dust as it got closer to the ranch. He grinned and wrapped his arms around her, over her pregnant waist.
“Do you think he’s got her with him?”
Willow sensed Billy’s grin. She had seen it too often lately.
“You still think it is amusing that you talked him into getting married?”
“I think it’s just what he needed. He’s getting fed up over how long it’s taking to bring the big man to his knees. Another month and he would have let Slade handle it—Slade’s way. Luke needed some kind of diversion. Why not a wife?”
“But he may not like her.”
“Like her?” Billy chuckled. “Hell, he can hate her for all I care, as long as she’s diverting.”
“You had no thought for the girl in this,” Willow accused him tartly.
He didn’t look at all contrite. “Taking care of friends comes first. That’s what I’m here for. Now come inside before they see us. City ladies always get the vapors at their first sight of a real live Indian. You know that.” He chuckled again. “We’ll give her until tomorrow before we make her acquaintance.”
Willow looked at her husband critically. “You’re not thinking of frightening her, are you, Billy?”
“Would I do that to a friend’s bride?”
No, of course he wouldn’t, she told herself knowingly, not her fun-loving husband.
Sharisse closed her eyes, trying to imagine that the ranch house wasn’t actually small, only…quaint? She couldn’t do it. It was a simple square building, not even painted. A cabin. And she was supposed to live there? There was a barn, too, and it was twice the size of the house, but also unpainted. A large corral with a big old cottonwood casting shade over it was behind the barn. Half a dozen horses lazed inside the corral. A hundred feet or so beyond the corral was another cabin, even smaller than the first.
“I imagine you’re used to grander accommodations,” Lucas said smoothly as he helped her down from the buggy.
Sharisse didn’t answer. He wasn’t exactly apologizing, so what could she say? That her home on Fifth Avenue was a colossal mansion? It wasn’t necessary for him to know that.
Her expression said it all, anyway, and Lucas grinned, knowing how shocked she was. What had she anticipated? Probably a house like Samuel Newcomb had erected as an ostentatious display of his wealth, two stories of grand rooms and luxurious fittings. Well, Lucas’s house served its purpose, and he had been in worse. In better, too, but all he had needed here was a roof over his head. It wasn’t as if he meant to stay. Oh, he supposed he might have fixed it up a little for her. Then again—his grin widened—she didn’t have to know that he hadn’t.
