Pete (The Cowboys) by Leigh Greenwood Read Free Book Online Page B

more conscious of the fact that she was in a bed waiting for her husband. The coolness of the sheets, which was always a comfort after a warm summer day, seemed ice cold and unfriendly tonight. Her body seemed strange and unfamiliar. Sensations didn’t register as they used to. She felt as if she was coming down with a fever, then with the chills.
    She was being stupid, letting her nerves get the better of her. She would relax. Peter—Pete—had promised not to touch her. She believed him. She really did.
    She wished she had the courage to blow out the big lamp he’d brought from downstairs. He must have gotten it while she was in the bathroom. She would have preferred to wait for him in the dark. At least he wouldn’t be able to see the fear in her face.
    The bedroom door burst open, and Belser strode into the room. “Couldn’t wait to get in his bed, could you?” he shouted.
    She could tell he’d been drinking. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to be unpleasant.
    “He’s my husband,” she managed to say, her voice a harsh whisper. “It’s where I’m supposed to be.”
    “I don’t believe he’s your husband. Even a sap-sucker like Peter wouldn’t marry you. Not that I think he’s Peter.”
    “He wants us to call him Pete. He says Peter reminds him—”
    The bathroom door slammed open, and Pete strode into the room. He was naked from the waist up. Anne felt the blood rush to her face.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded of Belser.
    “I came to see—”
    “I didn’t hear you knock. I didn’t hear Anne invite you in.”
    “I never knock. I—”
    Pete’s fist shot out, made contact with Belser’s face, and sent him reeling back through the doorway.
    “Don’t ever come into my bedroom without knocking and being invited,” Pete said. “Next time I’m liable to shoot first.”
    “Son of a bitch!” Belser shouted, holding his hand to a nose that dripped blood. “You’ve broken my nose.”
    “Your nose will heal,” Pete said. “A bullet through the chest is a little trickier. Now get out of here. The sight of all that blood is liable to upset Anne.” He closed the door in Belser’s face. “Sorry about that,” he said to Anne. “He won’t do it again.” Then he disappeared into the bathroom once more.
    Anne lay in the bed, her mouth agape. Nobody had ever stopped Belser from bursting into rooms. Uncle Carl had given up, but it was clear Pete wasn’t going to put up with it. She feared Belser might get a gun and come back, but after a series of curses that turned Anne’s ears pink, his voice faded away down the hall. A moment later she heard the door to his room slam. The tension left her body and she collapsed into the pillows.
    She felt exhausted, utterly wrung out, mentally and physically. She had thought the tension of waiting for Pete, not knowing when—or if—he would arrive, and worrying about what her uncle would do next had been difficult. None of that equaled the few hours since Pete’s arrival. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it.
    Yes, she did. She’d expected to see her old friend of ten years back again. She’d expected to fall into the same brother-sister relationship she’d enjoyed so much. She’d expected to have to encourage him to stand up to Belser. She’d expected to feel that she was important to him, that he needed her.
    Instead she’d gotten a man who not only shattered any remaining vestiges of their brother-sister relationship, but acted as if it had never existed. He clearly didn’t need her to stand up for him. He was more than capable of taking care of Belser and anybody else.
    Including herself. Suddenly Pete seemed very male, very sexy, very physical, even dominating, much like all the other men in Wyoming. That made her think of what was supposed to happen on a wedding night. Any other man in Wyoming would expect it, wouldn’t understand—or accept it—if she felt reluctant. He’d think it his