A Lifetime with You: Timeswept Soulmates Read online

  Now where did that come from?

  Riley was always a good judge of character and he definitely was hard to read behind that nest on his face. However, wounded would not have been her first guess if she hadn’t been so perceptive in reading people during her career. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. Well, his hazel eyes seemed to be shuttered closed. No bueno for her!

  Riley needed someone that she could bully around. Someone she could marry, put her foot down and make sure they slept in separate beds. Someone she could tell what to do, like “go away” or “I’m hungry, can you cook something?” (because she had no idea how to cook on a fire!). Someone that, perhaps, she could become friends with and who would give her space.

  This man looked like none of those things! He looked like he would take all the space in the tiny house. He looked to be the one that would order her about and expect results. He seemed like he would take her if he wanted her. And frankly, the thought of his big ol’ bushy face scratching hers made her nauseated. She wondered if he bathed regularly or if he would smell, too? That was the breaking point for Riley. She could feel the surge of fluids racing up her throat, which was almost as fast as her legs hauled her away from the duo standing by the small house. Her vivid imagination and the idea of rank body possessing hers sent her retching fiercely.

  The corset around her waist did nothing to slow down the violent spasms, only the lack of substance in her stomach helped her. After a few moments of blessed silence, she was certain that one of the two men would check on her to make sure she was all right. As she stood with her back to them, she heard footsteps behind her and wiped her mouth ungracefully on her sleeve.

  “I’m okay, thank you,” she said slowly, over her shoulder. Her voice came out weaker than she expected. Lack of food, exhaustion and the day’s events were catching up to her fast. Riley heard a thud behind her in the dirt and spun around, steadying herself with a hand on the house. She stared at her prospective husband’s departing back as he walked off. On the ground was a shovel.

  “What’s this?” she asked, lamely.

  Seeing him stop in his tracks, she saw him look over his shoulder at her and give a grunt. “You’ll be needing that,” he said firmly.

  “For what?”

  “To bury your scent or we’ll have coyotes around these parts,” he replied and walked off into the house with the sheriff, who was smirking yet again. Obviously, he thought it was funny and he must think her stupid!

  Riley was half-tempted to stomp after him and bang him upside the head with the shovel for his lack of sympathy towards her. Would it pain him to be nice? Maybe she’d feed him some ipecac syru- oh wait, do they even have that stuff here yet? Could she make someone else sick or did that put her in the same category as those she defended?

  Shaking her head, she angrily picked up the shovel. “Bury your scent,” she mocked and tore at the ground for several minutes. “I’d like to bury you, you Twinkie,” she muttered, stabbing at the ground again but picturing his grave rather than a hole to bury her vomit.

  “You’ll have to dig deeper than that to do so.”

  Riley swung up the shovel to protect herself and saw it was the great bearded wonder. “What do you want?”

  “I’ll be wanting that shovel back once you’ve cleaned it properly,” he said stoically.

  “Well you might be out of luck as I don’t know how to clean a shovel properly,” she said acidly. Fudge it! He was going to be an acorn to her, she might as well be a button to him. Riley began laughing at the adlib she’d just created in her own head substituting polite words for the choice curse words she wanted to use. “Don’t be an acorn to me, okay? We’ll get along just fine if you stop acting like a dipstick.”

  Wiping her brow from the hard work she wasn’t used to, Riley propped the shovel in front of her and leaned upon the handle. “Seriously, I don’t know how to clean a shovel,” she repeated as he just stared at her with an icy expression.

  “Are you insane?” he asked bluntly.

  “Are you?” Riley countered, slightly insulted.

  The two stood there in the darkness sizing each other up. She could see him watching her carefully, analyzing her every move and the words she was using. Each time she said something odd, his eyes would give the merest twitch of acknowledgement.

  “No, I am not insane,” he said finally. “And you have not answered me.”

  “I am not insane either. Different. Probably more than anyone you will ever meet in your life, but not crazy,” she admitted honestly. Kill ’em with kindness, you moron!

  “If you will show me how to clean the shovel? Now that I am done cleaning up my vomit – and thank you kindly for asking, I will be fine - then I will have learned how to do so properly for you,” she said, hiding the sarcasm in her voice but giving a mock curtsey towards the ruffian.

  Riley gaped at him as she saw a slight parting on the great bearded wonder’s face. Was he smiling? He must have realized it because as soon as she saw the crack in the huge pile of abrasive bristles on his face, it disappeared.

  “Come,” he grunted simply and walked off.

  Riley stared at him for a second and then picked up the shovel. “Oh, I’ve got it. Thanks for offering but it’s not that heavy,” she quipped at his departing back. She could have sworn that his shoulders were twitching and prayed he wasn’t going to throttle her for her runaway mouth.

  His new bride was the most challenging female John had ever met. He wondered, momentarily, if she was insane as she started to throw random words in the middle of her sentences. She would be talking to him and suddenly there was an inappropriate word that simply didn’t fit. The words coming out of her mouth were an entire string of strange words. Why would he act like an acorn? What the hell was a dipstick? Upon meeting someone, you simply did not ask if they were crazy. But he had to know if she was. She claimed that she wasn’t, but she was definitely odd.

  She. She. She.

  He didn’t even know her name and, frankly, it was quite a surprise that she did arrive. John had sent off the letter for a bride out of desperation not long after his wife had died. They had been very cordial to one another, but there was no love lost. John had simply been lonely and hated the silence. He wanted someone to talk to, to laugh with and, frankly, someone to keep him company. Once he had posted the letter, a week later he had ridden like hell for the town only to mail another letter canceling his request. He felt guilty that he was looking to replace his wife so quickly. He had married once for convenience and the thought of doing so again chilled his blood. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he damned well didn’t want to have another cold wife thrust upon him.

  This woman that arrived at his door claiming to be his mail order bride was a shock to the system. She was breathtakingly gorgeous perched high upon the horse and downright comical as she tried to dismount it. He couldn’t believe she was sliding down the saddle with one leg and dragging the other over the top of the seat. He had quite a flash of her bloomers before her leg made it down simply by the inelegant dismount. Didn’t she know how to get off a horse? Couldn’t she ride sidesaddle? Or better yet, if she had waited a moment, he could have helped her down. The sheriff looked to be holding back his laughter from the awkward movements she was exhibiting and John himself had to restrain his own mirth. She was an odd one, that was for sure.

  John felt bad that she became ill so suddenly. He was tempted to see if she was all right. Once he walked over, she had such a nasty tone in her voice, for a moment it was like speaking with his dead wife, Lily, again. Lily had been awful and hated to be interrupted or touched.

  John had pulled back and left the shovel for her to give her privacy. When he returned to check on her again, he was surprised at the animated expression on her face as she rolled her eyes dramatically. She had an acidic tone that reminded him of Lily, but it didn’t have the bite to it. It was almost as if she were teasing him.

  He liked it.

&
nbsp; The little spitfire had a spine to her and it was refreshing. Most people, including his own Lily, gave him a wide berth because he was quite tall for a man. This tiny slip of a woman had the nerve to arch her neck to look directly in his eyes - and sassed him! She was taller than a lot of women but still dainty enough to have to look up. There was no judgement or fear in her eyes. Instead, she hid her expression for quite a bit until she became ill. It was like the walls had fallen and she was letting herself loose by mouthing off to him. He was glad it was only the two of them outside so he wouldn’t have to correct her.

  “Come,” he said simply. He would teach her to clean the shovel properly so it would last a long time. As his wife, he would make sure she knew how to do several things around the house and he was certain that there would be things she taught him. Perhaps she was skilled enough to be able to sew clothing, knit or tat lace. Tatted lace could be sold for profit if she was proficient at it. Perhaps, he would let her keep it as her very own pin money. Earning her own money would give her a sense of pride. He didn’t need her money, he had done well enough on his own.

  “Take the shovel and douse it,” he said calmly upon entering the large barn, pointing at the large trough that held water. He lit the oil lamp to give them a bit of light to work. “Once you are finished, you’ll need to dry it so it doesn’t rust or turn. We’ll then oil it and put it away.”

  “Who cares if the shovel rusts? If you douse it, of course it will rust. You’ll be putting water on a metal surface,” she said. Riley was frankly creeped out by all the shadows the lamp cast in the large barn. She wondered, momentarily, if she needed to be concerned about Indians in the area. Had Texas become a state or was it still part of Mexico? She wished she had studied her history just a bit more right now.

  “Exactly,” he replied, surprised that she was aware of this. Perhaps his mail order bride had been only claiming to not know how to clean the shovel. “You know this?”

  “Well, metal rusts. If you kept it well-oiled like a cast iron skillet I have heard it will last forever,” she replied. After all, she had seen the videos shared on Facebook. And while she never used a cast iron skillet, the videos had shown people turning some raggedy pans into glistening, new skillets. YouTube had educated her on several different things when she had to become knowledgeable about something fast. She could etch glass, shatter a windshield, dislocate a finger or embezzle money – all in theory! Riley had never done any of it, but the thieves and criminals she defended had.

  At his satisfied grunt, Riley grabbed the oiled rag and wiped down the wet shovel. She held it out to him and hoped her arm didn’t shake while it was extended. She didn’t want to show weakness but, instead, show him that she was just as good as he was. She wasn’t certain why it was important to her, but it just was.

  John took the shovel from her and put it up high on a peg. Taking the lamp, he headed out of the barn, not looking back. He didn’t have to, he could hear her footsteps chasing quickly behind him. Her. She. Stopping abruptly, he felt her bump into his back and turned around.

  “Butter beans,” she exclaimed softly and rubbed her nose.

  “What is your name?” he asked.

  “Riley Butler,” she said quickly, taking an assessment of her tender nose. The big lummox had been like running into a brick wall and after her car accident, she was being extra careful with her little ol’ body!

  “That’s a man’s name,” he replied evenly.

  “That’s my name,” she retorted. “It’s a familial name. Frankly, it’s lovely, thank you very much.” Riley about choked on her tongue at his single grunt of acknowledgement. Then he turned and walked off again. “Hello? I’d love to step inside, thank you for inviting me into your home,” she muttered, kicking a few rocks in the darkness behind him.

  John grinned, facing away from her. “It’s your home now, too,” he said quietly and stepped inside to where the town sheriff had been left. It was only polite to offer him shelter and food for being so courteous as to bring out his new bride.

  Mouth agape at how rude the big lummox was, Riley quickly darted inside once she realized he had left her outside in the dark. The only light seemed to be coming from the moon and it barely lit the ground around her. She saw the lamplight inside and bolted through the door, shutting it behind her like a terrified child would when running from the boogeyman. Riley realized there was no lock, simply a large board propped by the door and she groaned. Nope, hillbilly castlevania was now her home, shish kabob! she thought.

  Riley took a deep breath and turned, putting her back against the doorway. Behind her was freedom and who only knew? In front of her were the only people she knew: the great bearded wonder and the irritating sheriff. Both acorns, she thought with frustration.

  She noticed that the sheriff was sitting at the table, noisily eating beans and cornbread. He was quite disgusting to watch, honestly. Every time the spoon hit the metal tin, that clank made her jump. Would you like a backhoe so you can get it in your pie-hole a bit faster? she thought nastily. Riley noticed that the bearded wonder took his seat near the sheriff and stared at his empty tin pointedly. She saw there was now a third empty tin plate waiting as well. For her?

  When she saw the bearded wonder cross his arms and the grin on the sheriff’s face, she realized that he expected her to serve him! Oh, this is rich! she thought with a grin and rolled her eyes as she pushed off the wooden doorway to take her place in the kitchen. Setting the women’s movement back some hundred years, yo!

  Smirking with laughter, she grabbed the spoon out of the pot of beans and filled her plate first. At her soon-to-be husband’s upraised eyebrow and the challenge on his face, she grinned widely and dumped a pile of beans in his empty plate purposely. Riley impetuously took the spoon and thwacked it several times on the side to knock any beans off the utensil. She didn’t even flinch when some of the hot liquid splashed on her hand. She noticed that it also landed on his as well as the table. Neither said a word. The hammering noise and the silent battle of wills as she stared at him resulted in him laughing at her.

  Riley’s jaw dropped open as the sound of his rich laughter rolled over the silence. He had a wonderful, warm laugh that made her gut clench with desire. She knew that feeling. Surely, she was not feeling that now, she mused as she stared at him. Nausea, girl, nausea! That’s what you are feeling! she thought wildly, not wanting to think of him remotely in any other way.

  Ewww! Great bearded wonder, remember? Grizzly face is not sexy in the slightest! Look at the sheriff. He has a pinto bean drool trail in his nasty ol beard, she thought momentarily and felt herself ready to retch yet again. Looking away from the two, she took her seat silently and hoped that keeping her eyes downcast would keep her from seeing their awful faces and nasty food-clinging beards.

  Think of something that is appealing to the eye, Riley! Puppies? Clothes shopping? The lineup of the latest superhero movies - in spandex, no less! Her beautiful Mercedes, pre-accident, with the white leather seats? Ahhh, yes, she thought, feeling peace wash over her. There was nothing better than her pampered life back home. Happiness in her past. The problem was what exactly to do about the present – that was now the past. Clear as mud, she sighed and picked up her spoon to eat silently.

  “Sheriff, you are welcome to stay the night and head out in the morning. If we are to be married, I’d like to go ahead and get the service over with,” she heard from across the table and choked on her mouthful of beans.

  “Excuse me?” she coughed, sputtering. “I think we need to talk a minute, oh great bearded wonder,” she exclaimed bluntly and slapped her hand over her mouth, realizing she spoke aloud and just insulted him. Would he even realize it was directed at him?

  “I believe we do, Bride,” she heard him enunciate coldly.

  Yup, he knew it, she thought as he stood up abruptly and moved to her side of the table, grabbing her arm. “Ow! That is attached, you know?” she barked as she was dragged from the bench into the
other room. Riley heard the laughter echoing behind her as the door firmly shut. Dread and anger were boiling inside of her. How dare that nitwit sheriff laugh at her treatment? And how dare this big lummox drag her bodily from the room like a bad child about to get spanked?

  “Stop that,” she said heatedly and jerked her arm from him with an exaggerated motion. Rubbing her upper arm, she backed away from him. “You are hurting me and there is no reason to!”

  “I think you acting like a child in front of a guest is enough cause,” he responded.

  “I’m not acting like a child!” she countered. “You are acting like a horse’s patootie!”

  “Point noted,” he said simply. “Ms. Butler, are you here to marry me or not? Are you the mail order bride that I requested? Because if not, you need to be leaving if you are going to continue on this path,” she heard him say bluntly as he crossed his arms across his chest in an angry motion. “There is no cause to be rude or abrasi-”

  Riley stared at his frozen form, confused as he suddenly stopped all movement. She cringed as she saw Eve appear behind him, looking extremely irate. It was downright creepy the way she poofed in from a blackish cloud, like something you would see from a Stephen King movie.

  “Uh, hello, Eve,” she said lamely.

  “You haven’t been here twenty-four hours yet and your intended is ready to be rid of you? Are you trying to go back and die? Because that can be arranged quickly,” Eve announced coldly. She snapped her fingers, causing an instant, burning rush of pain in Riley’s body.

  The crushing pressure on her ribs and the rush of fiery sensation to her face was instantaneous. Riley gasped at the agony that touched her body. Her hands flew up to see if there was damage to her features. Finding none, she looked up, mortified, at Eve and the power she controlled over her. “Why?”

  “That is a fraction of what your body is going through if I let your accident continue along the path. You asked for help, you got it – don’t put conditions on hitting the proverbial lottery in your life. You wanted to live? So, live. Don’t be a…” Eve hesitated and gave a wicked smile before continuing, “… button, I believe was the word you chose.”