After he set her on her feet, she continued to hold on to his biceps as she stared up at him. It took monumental effort on his part to keep from drawing her to him for another kiss. “Why don’t you go on inside out of the cold while I get your luggage?” he finally asked.
She stared at him a moment longer before nodding and turning to walk up the steps.
As he watched her cross the back porch to open the door, Eli exhaled, then took in a deep breath of sharp winter air. Why was he so damned turned on by Tori? She had clearly lied to him about her qualifications when she applied to be his wife. But the strangest part was that he didn’t mind. Somehow it didn’t seem nearly as important to him that the woman he chose be able to help around the ranch as it had been when he’d posted the ad online.
Reaching into the bed of the truck, he pulled out the two suitcases he had placed there when he’d picked her up at the airport, and started toward the house. There was something about Tori—a vulnerability, and quite possibly even a desperation—that had him overlooking her deception and making him want to shelter her from whatever she was running from. And he had no doubt there was something that compelled her to dive headfirst into the uncertainty of being an email-order bride.
Why else would a beautiful woman, who was obviously born and bred to a more genteel life—a woman who could easily have just about any man she set her sights on—answer an online ad to marry a stranger and live on a remote ranch in the mountains of Wyoming?
He had a basic background check run on all of the applicants before starting the interview process and nothing had turned up in Tori’s that had raised a red flag. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something there and luckily he knew exactly whom to contact if he decided he needed to know more. Blake’s older brother, Sean, had been an FBI agent for years before retiring to open his own private-investigation agency. One phone call was all it would take and within a week or so, he would know all about Tori.
Then, with whatever information Sean Hartwell was able to gather on her, he could decide if he wanted to try to make the marriage work or have it annulled and resume his search for a suitable wife.
As Tori walked toward the house, she chastised herself for her slipups. Since the FBI had confiscated her laptop, she’d had to make a special trip to the library to do extensive research on the Western way of life and the terminology used on a ranch. Calling a herd of cattle “cows” was the kind of mistake she couldn’t afford to make again. Otherwise, Eli would realize she was a fraud and send her back to Charlotte faster than she could blink.
Glancing up at the Welcome to Our Home sign beside the back door, she sighed. It reminded her that she no longer had a home to go back to. Her father was dead, his business no longer existed and her so-called friends had abandoned her at the first sign of the scandal. If that hadn’t been enough to convince her to change her name and relocate, the death threats from some of her father’s former clients had. Even though she hadn’t been involved in any of his illegal practices, her last name alone had been enough to incite hatred in people who didn’t know her.
Then there was the matter of supporting herself. Her name was a huge strike against her, of course. But the fact that she had worked at her father’s agency kept anyone in the banking-and-investments industry from considering her for a job, even though she had actually been instrumental in bringing down his house of cards.
With exactly four hundred and seventy-two dollars between herself and living in a cardboard box beneath a bridge, not to mention the chilling threats to her life, she’d had no other choice. She hadn’t wanted to tell Eli so many fibs, but when she stumbled across his online ad while searching for an area of the country that might be safe, she had not only been intrigued, she had been desperate. Even her condo and car, which had been owned by the Bardwell Investments Agency, were about to be confiscated by the authorities to be sold in order to help with the reimbursement of her father’s clients. Within a few weeks, she would have been homeless and with no means of transportation to go elsewhere.
Opening the door, she walked into a small mudroom and looked around. A built-in log bench had been constructed along one wall with cubbyholes beneath for boots and shoes. When she glanced at the opposite wall, she had to smile at the use of horseshoes turned sideways and attached to the wall to create hooks for coats and jackets. It was unlike anything she had seen in Charlotte and was perfect for a rustic Western ranch house.
Slipping off her coat, she hung it on one of the horseshoe hooks and opened the door leading into the kitchen. It amazed her how vastly different decorating preferences were in different areas of the country. Having been raised in a world of elegant antebellum mansions, elaborate cotillions and formal garden parties, she was fascinated by the rustic, down-to-earth preferences of residents of the western states. Nothing seemed to go to waste and, considering how frugal she’d had to become in the past few months, that appealed to her.
“You must be Eli’s new bride.”
Lost in thought, the sound of the man’s voice caused her to jump. She looked over to find an older gentleman standing at the stove, stirring a huge pot of something that smelled absolutely wonderful. “Yes, I’m Tori, and you must be Buck.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, nodding. “Eli gettin’ your things?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Is there anything I can do to help you finish up dinner?”
“Around here we call it supper,” Buck corrected. “But if you’re of a mind to, you could set the table.”
“I’d be happy to do that.” When he pointed to the cabinet where the plates were kept, she asked, “How many places should I set? Three?”
Buck nodded. “Sally Ann feeds the hired hands down at the bunkhouse.”
While Tori set the table, she admired the rustic beauty of the kitchen. The wagon-wheel chandelier hanging over the big round oak table and the plank floor worn smooth over the years made her feel as if she had been transported back to the Old West. As she continued to look around, she marveled at how the river-rock wall behind the stainless-steel stove and the gray-marble countertops complemented the oak cabinets and natural log walls. She wouldn’t have thought the use of nature’s elements would create such a warm and cozy atmosphere, but that was the only way she could think to describe the welcome feeling of the spacious room.
“I’ll take these upstairs and put them with the rest of your things,” Eli said when he brought her luggage in from the truck.
“I meant to ask if my other things had arrived,” she said, smiling. “But the day has been such a blur of activity, I didn’t even think of it.”
He nodded. “I picked up the boxes at the freight company last week when I went down to Eagle Fork to talk to the attorney about our agreement and make arrangements for your arrival.”
A couple of weeks ago, she had shipped most of her clothes and the few mementos the authorities allowed her to keep when her father’s mansion and possessions were auctioned off. It was disheartening to think that her entire life could be reduced to a few shipping crates and a couple of suitcases. But that was the sad truth of the matter.
“Thank you, Eli,” she said, admiring the ease with which he managed the heavy luggage holding the remainder of her clothes. Turning back to Buck, she asked, “Is there anything else I can do to help?”
The old man smiled as he nodded toward the table. “Just have a seat and I’ll dish you up some of the best beef stew you’ve ever had. I’m bettin’ you’re pretty tired and hungry from all that travelin’ you did to get here.”
“It smells wonderful, but I’ll wait for you and Eli to sit down with me,” she said, smiling back.
Buck stared at her for several long seconds. “You’re nothin’ like I pictured you to be,” he finally said, shaking his head.
She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”