Which was really unfair. He was the one always hiding behind words and silence, making her work to understand him. Teasing her when she did, laughing when she didn’t.
His booted footsteps on the stairs cut off her budding anger. With each creak, her breath grew shorter until she stopped breathing entirely when the steps paused outside their door. Air rushed into her lungs on a furious gasp when he moved down the hall without even calling a good night. She heard the door on her father’s bedroom open and close. There was the sound of water being poured in the wash basin, a fire being built, the creak of bedsprings, and then nothing. The quiet progressed for ten minutes before she admitted he wasn’t coming to bed in their room. Which meant any moves were up to her.
She pulled the covers over her bent legs, rested her chin on the plateau of her knees and slowly let the anger build. How dare he cut her off, accuse her of unladylike behavior, and then proceed to break his word by sleeping in another room. So maybe she wasn’t the best at getting out what she wanted to say, at least she was trying. The least he could do was shut up and listen.
She threw the goosedown comforter off. She reached for her robe and then left it hanging. The distance to the door had never been spanned so quickly. She made it to the guest bedroom before she understood the reality of her plan. When his door hit the wall under the force of her shove and she was face-to-face with his bare-chested specter in the big four-poster, she started thinking. Unfortunately, it was too late for prudence. Taking her courage in hand, she proceeded.
“I’ll allow that I’ve been a bit hasty in some of my assumptions.” She kept her gaze on his forehead because the sight of all that lightly-furred muscle was unsettling. “But you have no right to berate me for it when you’re part of the cause.”
His arms folded across his chest. “You saying all this is my fault?”
A log crackled in the fireplace. She took a breath to keep her focus and picked up the challenge he’d thrown down. “Yes.”
“You’ve got nerve, darlin’. I’ll give you that.”
“Yes, I do, and I’m probably using the last of it right now.” His right eyebrow shot up, but he didn’t offer any further sarcasm, so she plunged on. “I wasn’t accusing you of tricking me. I was trying to explain that…that…” God, this was so humiliating to admit. She finally managed in a cold rush of honesty. “I’m not used to anyone being nice to me. I don’t know how to react.”
“Surely that school taught you the value of a ‘thank you’.”
She shifted her gaze to the window. Her own reflection stared back at her, a ghostly shadow of white whose only distinguishing feature was the shadowed impression of her eyes. At this moment, she felt as substantial as that reflection. She bit her lip and pressed on. She’d say her piece and put this behind her. However it played out, she’d build her marriage on the remnants. “It’s not easy to forget the way I was raised.”
He looked impossibly big and stubborn propped up in the bed. He didn’t sound the least patient or understanding when he said, “No one’s asking you to.”
But he was. With every act of kindness, he was. She couldn’t put that into words, though. His gaze, when he looked at her, had a measure of respect. It wouldn’t, though, if she told him everything. It wouldn’t, but she couldn’t live this lie anymore. She licked her dry lips and continued, “My father was very strict.”
“I gathered that.”
She licked her lips again, but she didn’t have enough spit left to moisten them. “He had very rigid rules.” Nausea churned with the memory.
“Seems like everyone around here had rules from what I can see. Leastwise, they felt like they had a right to boss you around.”
“Yes, well, my father was the strictest.”
“Most fathers are.”
An involuntary shiver shook her. “Mine more than most. I failed him quite regularly.” The cold from the floor seeped into her feet. She shivered again. She closed her eyes against the impatience in Asa’s gaze. “I know it sounds like I’m making excuses. I’m not.” She put the lamp on the table. He was never going to look at her with respect again. “He wanted a son.”
“A lot of men do. They make do with daughters.”
“When I turned out to be his only child, my father decided to teach me what was necessary to keep the ranch. I wasn’t very good at it.”
His “of course not” struck her in the heart. She’d been hoping he’d see her as more than she was. Sheer force of will kept her head up. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her night rail. “I failed him repeatedly. I tried, but I just couldn’t be as good as he needed.” She swallowed, wishing she dared to look at him. Another two buttons came undone. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life failing you.”