Circle Star Page 11

  Susanna clamped her mouth into a tight line as she waited. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she was gripping her hands together so tight the nails bit into her flesh. If Connor wanted to ignore the fact that they were married, so would she. She’d keep reminding the men until everyone went back to calling her Miss Susanna.

  Gomez led Connor’s black stallion into the sunlight. As soon as he came to a stop, the horse began to beat the ground with his front hooves. “He ain’t friendly, and he seems to have a dislike for women,” the young wrangler warned her.

  “I know,” Susanna replied. “And he bites.”

  Gomez nodded. “A poisonous bastard he is. You sure you want to ride him?”

  “Hold him steady while I mount.”

  “The boss will have my hide for this.” Susanna heard the man’s muttered words as she sprung into the saddle. The instant Gomez let go, the stallion jumped sideways and weaved and spun around, trying to crush her leg against the stable wall.

  Susanna controlled the horse and fixed a sharp look at Gomez. “I am your boss,” she said with emphasis. “Connor McGregor is my husband, but only as long as I want him to be.”

  Without another word, she dug her heels into the sides of the horse and hung on. The stallion shot forward across the yard and between the gate pillars. Once they were out on the open road, the horse flattened his ears and streaked ahead like a bullet from a rifle.

  After Susanna got used to the different gait from that of the older and steadier Santiago, she began to feel at ease. Freeing one hand from the reins, she reached out to pat the stallion on the neck. She murmured a few soft words. The horse’s ears pricked and he reduced his speed.

  So, Connor still does it, Susanna thought. The horse seemed accustomed to being crooned at, and was intrigued by the pitch of this new, softer voice, and the lighter weight of the rider on his back. She continued her murmuring. When they reached Cedar City, she alighted outside the post office. Instead of reaching out with his vicious teeth, Brutus followed her with a curious look in his moist eyes.

  “I wish your master were as easy to tame as you,” she whispered to him as she came out after posting her letter and remounted without any problems.

  She was already halfway back to Circle Star when a group of three riders thundered from the opposite direction.

  “You little fool,” Connor yelled the instant he was close enough. He forced Brutus to a halt by blocking the way. Garrett and Ramirez circled to prance behind her.

  Susanna stiffened in the saddle. “You take my horse, I take yours,” she yelled back at Connor.

  “You’re no match for him.”

  “He’s given me no trouble.”

  Connor lowered his gaze to the stallion. “Brutus, get rid of her.”

  Susanna felt the horse tense underneath her. She tightened her hold on the reins. The stallion tossed his mane and gave a sharp neigh that sounded like a protest.

  “I said, Brutus, get rid of the rider on your back.” Connor’s voice was steely.

  Slowly, as if with reluctance, the horse reared up. Susanna threw herself forward over his long neck and kept her seat. The stallion came back down again. Next, he arched and kicked up his rear. He corkscrewed and danced, and then he did it all over again, until Susanna tumbled from the saddle and landed on her rump in the dirt.

  The stallion stood still, craning his head in her direction. Connor reached over and secured the loose reins around the saddle horn. “Brutus, go home,” he ordered. The stallion whinnied in reply and set off at an easy lope toward Circle Star.

  “You idiot,” Susanna screamed, spitting out fury and dirt in equal measure. “I could have broken my neck.”

  “I doubt that,” Connor said. “Brutus didn’t really put his heart into it.”

  Susanna scrambled up to her feet. Dust flew as she patted her hands over her wool coat and denim pants. “What did you do that for?” she demanded to know.

  Connor glared down at her. “Nobody rides that horse without my permission.”

  “You took mine.”

  “Santiago is not a woman’s mount.”

  “He is my horse.”

  Connor’s face went blank and he did not pursue the argument. “Get up.” He reached down a hand to help her mount behind him on Santiago.

  It was another five miles to Circle Star, and the late afternoon sun was merciless, but pride came before comfort. “I’d rather walk,” Susanna told him. Filled with an icy rage, she turned her back on him and set off at a brisk pace along the desert trail.

  Connor rode slowly beside her. “Don’t be a fool. You have no water.”

  Gritting her teeth, Susanna ignored him and kept her eyes strained ahead as she marched on. “Suit yourself,” she heard him say. Then hooves thundered past her, and the three riders vanished into the horizon, leaving her squinting into the cloud of dust.

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  Chapter Nine

  Heat baked down from the sky like a flame. Susanna’s mouth had gone drier than the sand beneath her feet. Her throat rasped with thirst. She tried to find a landmark, but the desert looked the same all around. It had to be at least a mile now. Maybe a mile and a half. It ought to be less than an hour from here to Circle Star. The evening was drawing in. She tried to convince herself that the sun already felt a little cooler.

  A blister rose at her right heel. The boots had seemed fine before, but she’d never walked a long distance in them, and now her feet had expanded from the heat. She started limping, but that would only give her relief until the left heel blistered too.

  Ahead, a cloud of dust whirled above the road. Susanna strained her eyes. This time it was just one rider. Connor closed the distance and came to a halt a few paces in front of her. She ignored him, trying to march haughtily past him, but he positioned the horse to block her way. This time he was on Brutus, so she knew he’d been back to Circle Star. She attempted to walk around him, but the horse seemed to be everywhere at once.

  She scowled up at him. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to get home alive. There are snakes and scorpions.”

  “Some of them on horseback.”

  “How did I ever make the mistake of thinking it would be a good idea to marry you?” Connor untied a leather covered canteen from his saddle and tossed it down to the ground. “Even at fifteen, I should have been smart enough to know better.”

  Susanna stared at the canteen for a second. Then she stepped over it and edged past Brutus. “You didn’t marry me because you wanted to,” she pointed out. “You were too drunk to know what you were doing. You ended up married to me like a man who gets lost ends up somewhere he didn’t intend to be.”

  She heard a sharp click behind her and froze.

  “Pick it up,” Connor said. His voice was rough and edgy.

  Slowly, Susanna turned around. One of the big Colts was pointed at her.

  “So, shoot me,” she taunted, tilting her head back to look up at him. “Circle Star is what you always wanted. A ranch of your own. You said that a long time ago.”

  “And if I recall right, in that same conversation you said I’m not good enough for you. You changed your mind real quick when Circle Star hung in the balance.”

  She stared up at him, her mouth trembling a little. “I’ll get a divorce,” she told him quietly. “Then you can be on your way and I can get on with my life.”

  “The marriage hasn’t been consummated. You put in for a divorce, I’ll change it to an annulment. You’ll be right back where you were before you hunted me down.”

  “I didn’t hunt you down. You make it sound like you had no choice.”

  “Did I ever have a choice with you?” Connor said in a soft voice that held a note of resignation. The hammer made another click as he thumbed it off and retuned the gun to the holster at his hip. “I want that canteen back,” he warned her. “Either you pick it up now and hand it to me, or you bring it back with you.”

  Susanna locked her
eyes straight ahead, pretending not to have heard him. Gravel pelted at her legs as Connor executed a tight turn and urged Brutus down the road. Susanna waited until he was gone. Then she gave the canteen a little kick. It sloshed heavy. She could tell it was almost full.

  Bristling with anger, she bent to scoop up the container. She fumbled with the cap until she got it off and could drink with long gulps, barely pausing to rinse first and spit out the mouthful of grit and dust. The water was cool. Connor must have stopped to fill the canteen right before he set off to bring it out to her.

  After quenching her thirst she marched on, stewing with rage. How could Connor suddenly emerge from his drunken stupor and become ‘The Boss’ at Circle Star? Nothing was going the way she’d planned. She had offered herself to him as a loving companion and a faithful wife, and he had ignored her, preferring to drown himself in whiskey. And then, just when she had resolved to get on with her life and run the ranch alone, he stepped in and stole the job from her.

  Connor McGregor—how can she ever have imagined that she loved him?

  By the time Susanna finally crossed the yard and the cobblestone patio by the entrance, her heels were scraped raw. Unwilling to suffer a single step of agony more than necessary, she sat down on the hallway floor to yank off the boots.

  “Let me help.” The new girl, Miranda, flounced over, discarding the cloth she’d used to dust the big china pots filled with dried desert flowers that decorated the entrance.

  Susanna leaned back on her elbows and let the maid help. She failed to stifle a groan when the snakeskin boots rubbed against the damaged skin. Miranda inspected the bleeding sores and made disapproving noises. “I have ointment. I’ll bring some up to your room.”

  “Thank you.” Susanna stood up gingerly, carrying the boots in one hand and the canteen in the other. “And congratulations,” she added. “I understand you have just married.”

  The girl blushed a pretty pink and said, “You too, you only married recently. Is nice to have a husband, marido, si?”

  Susanna closed her eyes for a second and controlled the urge to hurl back a sharp response. The girl should benefit from the presumption of innocence. It was unlikely that anyone who understood how things were between her and Connor would be cruel enough to gloat at her discomfort. She would find out as time went by if her spirit of generosity had been misplaced and the girl had in fact meant to taunt her.

  When she opened her eyes, Miranda was picking up her dusting cloth and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll bring you hot water. Señor Connor told me to prepare a bath for you.”

  “Thank you,” Susanna replied. Irritation prickled within her as she trundled up the stairs. She had spent the last hour seething over what a thoroughbred bastard Connor was. He had no right to undermine her by doing something kind.

  ****

  After her bath, Susanna dressed in a cotton shirt and a pair of denim pants and went downstairs. In the dining room, she found Carmen setting out an array of dishes that filled the air with savory scents. Susanna spoke a few words of greeting, and Carmen replied, but the cook appeared flustered and made a quick escape as soon as she’d finished her task.

  Expecting another solitary meal, Susanna started to serve herself. The sound of heavy, masculine footsteps made her look up. Connor strode in. He closed the door behind him and studied the table for a second. Then he walked around and sat, not opposite her, where he had sat as a boy for Sunday dinners, but on her right, in her father’s chair at the head of the table.

  Susanna made no comment. Her fingers tightened over the bowl of potatoes to stop her hand from shaking as she lowered the dish back to the tablecloth.

  “Did you enjoy your stroll?” Connor asked as he began to fill his plate.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you empty and rinse out the canteen?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hear you met Miranda,” he said, glancing up at her.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a stubborn idiot?”

  The teasing question caught Susanna off guard, and her lips twitched into quick a smile before she managed to control her expression again. “No,” she replied, her voice vibrant with suppressed laughter.

  “If you think you can rile me up by not wearing a dress for dinner, you’re wrong.” Connor paused to rake a bold look over her. His eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen you naked. It doesn’t matter to me what you wear. I know what’s underneath.” He carried on piling food on his plate.

  “Thank you for that small liberty, but I don’t need your permission to select my clothing,” Susanna replied tartly.

  “You’re welcome to ride Brutus, but you have to ask first.” He glanced up again and sent her a stern smile that made her breath catch. “The fool seems to have taken a shine to you. Didn’t really want to toss you this afternoon.”

  “He has better manners than his master.”

  Connor’s surveyed her, his amber eyes so intent they made her skin tingle. “You know nothing about my manners when I ride a woman.”

  A fiery blush rose to her cheeks. Susanna said nothing, merely busied herself pushing a piece of steak around on her plate.

  “Don’t you think we ought to talk about that?” Connor asked.

  “About what?” she muttered.

  “About what this marriage means to each of us.”

  Susanna kept silent, focusing on a tiny stain in the tablecloth where she had spilled a drop of sauce.

  “You married me for Circle Star,” Connor told her bluntly. “I’m not going to put my blood and guts into this place, only to be thrown out one day. Unless you transfer half the property into my name, I’m not staying.”

  Susanna refused to lift her attention from the tablecloth. “I’ll see the lawyer about it on my next trip to Cedar City.”

  “Make it quick.”

  “I’ll go next week,” she promised and resumed toying with her food.

  “Good,” Connor replied, and said nothing more.

  A tense silence settled over the room. Susanna took a deep breath. Her heart pounded as she prepared to confront him. “You helped yourself to the money in the strong box, and the men no longer take orders from me.” She finally raised her gaze to him. “How am I supposed to occupy my days if there’s nothing left for me to do?”

  Connor shifted his shoulders. “Ranch wives have plenty to do. Cooking. Cleaning. Dealing with the maids.” The corners of his mouth tugged up in wry amusement. “You can embroider lines and paint watercolors and read poetry. Isn’t that why you went away to school all those years ago? To learn how to be a lady?”

  Her only response was an angry huff. She tried to come up with some clever retort to strike back at him but found nothing to say that could ease her turmoil.

  “As to the rest of marital duties, I’m not going to trouble you,” Connor went on. “What needs I have, I’ll take to the whores in Cedar City.”

  Susanna flinched, spoke in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. “What about during the day?” She fervently hoped that Connor would put her agitation down to embarrassment rather than hurt.

  “I can’t see why we couldn’t manage to be friendly. It will be easier on everyone around if we’re not at each other’s throats all the time.”

  Susanna sat in brooding silence. Then the anguish inside her pushed her to risk further humiliation. She darted another glance up at him. “Why?” she asked.

  “Why what?” Connor said softly.

  “Why nothing more?”

  She listened to his chair scrape back, and to the clanking of boot heels against the timber floor as he covered the three steps that separated them. He stood towering beside her. Lifting one hand, he drew a lazy fingertip down her cheek and across her lips.

  “Because I only have one heart, and you’ve already broken it,” he said and let his hand drop by his side. A second later, the clatter of his boots filled Susanna’s ears as he stalked out of the room. On his plate, the mountain of food remained u
ntouched.

  ****

  Over the next few days, Susanna learned the meaning of emotional warfare. Her nerves were constantly on edge. Each morning she listened to the sounds of Connor getting up in the next room, and she delayed her own breakfast until she could be sure he was gone.

  During the day, she lingered around the house. The few times she ventured out riding, she avoided the groups of men she spotted in the distance, in case Connor was one of them.

  In the evenings, she had no such luxury. Meals were served at six, and she had to either turn up or fetch leftovers from the kitchen after nine o’clock when the men had been fed. She chose to eat at six. Connor sat at the head of the table and made occasional comments about the running of the ranch. Susanna barely managed more than monosyllables.

  One night, she got up in the darkness and, wearing only a thin cotton nightgown, tiptoed to stand outside Connor’s bedroom. The brass knob felt cool beneath her fingers. She turned it slowly—and found the door locked.

  Tears of humiliation burned in her eyes as she hurried back to her own bed. He was locking his door against her. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the idea but couldn’t quite manage the sounds.

  On Sunday night, Susanna dressed in a green velvet gown that matched her eyes. As she entered the dining room, Connor seemed to look at her a little longer than normal, but by now she was too agitated to trust her senses. His inspection of her could have gone on for three minutes or for three seconds. She no longer knew.

  “Are you going to see the lawyer this week?” Connor asked.

  Susanna glanced up from her plate. “Yes.”

  “Do I need to sign anything?”

  “I don’t think so.” She picked at the food in front of her. Lack of appetite plagued her every evening as they dined together. “I might stay a few days in Cedar City,” she told him. “Go to the theatre, see a dressmaker. Get introduced to the local ladies.”

  “You don’t have to ask me,” Connor said lightly.

  “I would expect you to tell me if you plan to stay away overnight.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” he replied.