Read Online Tangled Past by Leah Braemel - Free Book Online

or a hell?
    “I doubt Mr. Nate’ll mind if you want to fix it up to your own tastes. This place needs a woman’s touch.” Martha frowned. “I didn’t see a trunk or anything on any of the horses the boys brought back. Are your things being brought in by buckboard or somethin’?”
    How did she explain that everything she owned had been packed in Bandit’s saddlebags without appearing a pauper?
    Martha must have guessed the reason behind her embarrassment, maybe from the heat creeping up Sarah’s neck, because she patted her hand. “Ah, don’t you worry about a thing, honey. Jackson will see that you have everything you need.” She pulled her hand away and fiddled with the net holding her hair in place. “So how’d you two end up married? He didn’t say a thing about it before they left.” Martha’s face didn’t lose its smile, but Sarah heard the circumspection in her tone.
    Before she could stop herself, the tale started tumbling out, though she carefully kept to herself Jackson and Nate’s relationship. She ended with, “He didn’t want to marry me, but now he’s stuck with me because Josiah refused to believe Jackson hadn’t touched me.”
    “Funny, here I’ve been thinking about how you might be regrettin’ being stuck with me .”
    Sarah whipped around to find Jackson standing in the doorway, her saddlebags in his hand. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
    His mouth twitched up at one side and he gestured with his free hand to his sock feet. “Miss Martha always insists we take our boots off at the front door. Says she has enough dust blowin’ through this place without us trompin’ in more.” He glanced down at her boots. “Guess she likes you more than us.”
    He hung his hat on a hook by the dresser before handing the saddlebags to Martha. “Those are Sarah’s clothes. I suspect they’re gonna need an ironing before she can put them on.”
    Martha huffed. “They’ll need a good airing too, if they’ve been stuffed in here for the whole trip.”

    “I can do that,” Sarah started to say, only to be cut off by Jackson.
    “You’ll be busy with me.” He cupped Martha’s elbow and led her to the bedroom door. “If you’ll excuse us, Miss Martha, I think I’d like to clean up a bit myself. And I need to talk with my wife for a moment about a matter between us.”
    “Of course.” Martha patted his arm with an ease that Sarah envied.
    Jackson had shrugged his suspenders off his shoulders and let them drop to his side, when a young boy no more than ten peeked his head in the door. “Gramma said to bring you some fresh water, Mr. Jackson.”
    “Here now, you should knock before walkin’ into a room. You’ve been raised better than that.” Despite his gruff tone, Jackson took the filled pitcher from the youngster’s hands and ruffled his hair. “You go out and help your brother cool off the horses. Make sure he don’t give them too much grain.”
    “You can count on me. Those mares are right fine lookin’ fillies.” The boy’s face lit up, and he raced down the hall, calling instructions to his brother.
    Once the door closed behind her, Jackson undid the buttons of his shirt. He tugged it over his head and let it flutter to the bed, leaving him in his undershirt. A moment later, it joined his shirt on the comforter.
    Sarah found the play of muscles over his shoulders and back fascinating. She’d seen men out in the fields working on the fences and such, but they’d always pulled on their shirts before they’d come up to the house. Being so close to a man without his shirt on—to Jackson specifically—did strange things to her insides, as her body remembered all those wild and wanton things he’d done when he’d shown her what it meant to be a wife, a lover. Until she remembered that he didn’t want to be married to her.
    Jackson poured some water into the washbowl. After dampening the wash cloth, he scrubbed it over his face and neck so hard she was surprised he