They worked together every day in the field raking the hay into stacks, then loading the wagon full. It was much harder work and he encouraged her to rest off and on.
It wasn't long before they had a big wagonload of it, and Wes told her about some people.
"Do you know this rancher?" she asked.
"Dickens told me about him the other day. He said he has a good size spread the other side of his place that could use some, and that he might know some others."
"That's a start, huh?" She smiled. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you and Mr. Dickens." She sighed.
"Well, it's a matter of putting yourself out there and asking questions of the right people. Dickens has lived here all his life, he knows everyone. So he's a good place to start about anything." He smiled.
"You think a lot of him, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do." He said a bit solemnly.
"Me to!" she smiled at him
He glanced at her and smiled back.
They rode together in the wagon. Moby climbed up in the back and laid down.
Wes was glad she was going with him. He thought she should get to know the people she could do business with, so he took her along. That was one reason, the other reason was to keep her safe from the Smith brothers. He didn't know how often they stopped off at her place but leaving her alone wasn't a good idea, especially since now they knew her husband was dead.
"Did you and Jim have picnics together, or go to dances?" He asked out of the blue.
She glanced at him a bit startled that he'd ask. "N-no, we didn't. I guess that's a bit hard to understand, isn't it? But our relationship was different in the first place. He didn’t court me if that's what you mean. It was just… well, he'd come over, make sure everything was alright and talk with me a bit, and then leave."
"Then how on earth did the two of you get married?"
He chuckled.
"I don't remember exactly." She chuckled too. But when he shot her a strange look, she tried to explain it. "I mean, one day he seemed to notice I'd grown up. He asked if I had a beau. I told him no. Then a couple of weeks later, he asked me to wed him. We'd known each other for some time so I said yes. I guess it's not how most people get hooked up together."
"The two of you didn't love each other, did you?" His smiled disappeared.
She seemed to study that question before answering. "Well, no, I guess we didn't." She saw how he reacted to that and she went on. "Jim wasn't romantic. Far from it. He worked a lot, and that's where his mind was most of the time. He was a very serious kind of man."
"You were that lonely?" he asked staring now.
"Well," she began a bit frustrated at the way he said that. "You don’t understand, there wasn't anyone there but me, Moby my dog, and my horse. No people. I lived out in the sticks, alone for over five years. I knew a few girls, but they lived way on the other side of my place and I only saw them every now and then. After my parents died, Jim got my supplies for me, so I didn't even have to go to town. I felt a bit indebted to him, as he checked on me, made sure everything was alright. I had very little money for pretty dresses or anything else. I felt indebted to him because when I ran low on money, he'd pay for the supplies I needed. I didn't want him to, but he did it anyway But, we never even kissed until we married, and that was a bit short lived too."
"Well you know, I've been thinking, if you found yourself a man, that you liked this time, maybe you would be alright."
"You're worried, aren't you?" she asked seeing the frown on his face as he said that.
"You don't think I can keep my place up. You're worried when you leave that I won't make it. You can't worry about me. Jim worried too, that's why I was beholdin' to him. I guess, if the truth were known, that's why I married him. But I realize now, it's not the right reason to marry. I did a lot of growing up the year we were married. I won't make that mistake again. Except for the occasional conversation, marriage didn't hold much for me. So I won't be looking for a husband."
"Look," he stopped the wagon to look at her. "That's not what a real marriage is about, Kate. You married for all the wrong reasons." He shrugged.
Her face flushed again.
He drove the wagon back on the road once more.
"I know I did. I see it all now. So what makes you think I want to jump back into that again?"
"It's just that there aren't a lot of places a woman can go to work and make an honest living, Kate. And no, I don't think unless you get some help out here, that you can make it, alone."
"Well, maybe I'll get a job at the saloon, and you can come visit me." She teased.
He stopped the wagon suddenly this time, "Come visit you? Do you know what they do?"
"Of course I do. I'm not that dumb." She felt her cheeks grow red. "I was just teasing."
"You'll never be that kind of woman!" he insisted.
In a way his words flattered her, but again, maybe he didn't think she was good enough to be one of those girls.
Suddenly, she moved toward him, leaning into him and on tiptoes to kiss him for all she was worth. She meant to prove something to him, but at that moment everything changed. The air became thicker, the sun became hotter. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, and the funny thing was, she didn't want to. His lips were pillow soft, encouraging her to take her fill of him. The kiss was mesmerizing because the minute her lips touched his, he seemed to melt into her and take complete control of her. Her breathing was erratic, her heart pounded, and the kiss went on forever. She didn't want it to end, it was unlike anything she ever experienced. Maybe he was right, she'd never make a saloon girl, she didn't know enough. And yet she knew instinctively that this man could teach her everything she needed to know.
When she finally pulled away, he looked stunned. HE got very quiet, almost as though he was ignoring her completely.
"Well, do you still think I’m not good enough to be one of them?" she asked boldly, her face scarlet now.
How had she been so bold?
"You've certainly got all the right instincts," he murmured softly, "but could you kiss a man like that when he's taking your clothes off and wanting to take you like your husband did?"
"My husband raped me," she protested.
"Well, what do you think those drunken cowboys do? Most of them don't care how rough they are, how dirty either."
"Are you telling me what my husband did was normal?" she almost shouted.
His eyes bore into her and his expression softened on her. "No," he smiled gently at her. "I'm telling you that you don't deserve that kind of treatment."
"Is there any difference in one man and another?" she asked her voice softening from his sweet remark.
"I guess you'll have to find that out for yourself." He said lowly.
"Do you always kiss a girl that way?" she asked after a long silence.
"What way?"
"So-o gentle like… "
"I guess it depends on the girl." He grinned.
"So you don't think I'd make it, even as a saloon girl?" she asked to break the tension between them.
He was silent a moment.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He reached a finger to close it and smiled. "You're not that hard, Kate. You surely aren't."
"Well, what you are suggesting is to marry to keep a roof over my head. And basically, that's what I did with Jim. And I know now, that was a mistake."
"You could meet some young man and fall in love and marry for all the right reasons, since you already know the wrong reasons to marry."
"That would take a lot of time, and I don't have that kind of time. I've got to get this crop in and then either try to put in a new crop or sell." She stared at him, "And what makes you such an expert on marriage?"
"I suppose my folks. They loved each other. They were good, God fearing people. You're right, I'm not an expert, but at least I've seen it before."
"Seen what?" She chuckled.
"Real love."
"I gave up on that, my wedding night."
"Not all men are like that." He murmured. "So how did I rank against your husband's kissing?"
"Well, I wouldn't know. He only pecked me on the cheek at the wedding."
"I mean on your wedding night."
"He didn't kiss me on my wedding night. He just took me."
Wes stared now, and something in his expression changed.
"I guess you might say you were quite sensational. Must have had a lot of practice."
"It isn't practice that makes it good, it's feelings." He told her, his eyes sparkling into hers.
"Well, just so you know, that's how some of those cowboys would take you as a whore.
"Are you trying to shock me?"
"Yes, I am."
"I'm not going to become a saloon girl, Wes." She sighed with frustration.
"No?"
"No." she gave him a shy smile.
"Well, just so you know, you don't need any practice in kissing." He sent her a raking smile.
"I don't?" she laughed.
"No ma'am, you don't."
He started back on the road and got silent for a while.
"There's no need to worry about me. I'll make it somehow."
He stopped the wagon, "You're the kind of woman a man does worry about."
"Well for crying out loud. And what kind of woman is that?" she asked with a snicker.
"A good one!" he said and didn't look at her.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so bold."
"That's alright ma'am, I enjoyed every minute of it." He grinned.
"Tell me, do you worry about every woman you stop to help?"
"No! But I don't stop to help many women."
"And I guess the only women you worry about are saloon girls." She scathed.
"Your wrong, I never worry about them. Because they can take care of themselves. They are hard women, Kate. A man doesn't go to a saloon girl for love."
"Then what does he go for?"
"Maybe I'll tell you sometime." He winked.
"Really?"
"Really," he smiled sexily at her and what that smile did to her body she couldn't understand. Every nerve in her body seemed to come alive. Just like that kiss, it was so powerful, so beautiful she would relive it for a long time to come. It was the first time a man really kissed her back, and she'd remember it all her life. She didn't know what possessed her to kiss him, but she was very glad she did. Because she suddenly realized it was different than any she'd ever experienced, of course that wasn't much either.
"Well, I'll learn. And why did you decide to come help me?" She asked her tone a bit sharp.
"Dickens, he ask me to."
"You owe him something?"
"He saved my life once, a few years back. I got caught in a high rising river in a wagon. I almost drown, would have if Dickens hadn't come along, threw me a rope, and pulled me to safety. A man doesn't forget something like that."
"He is a good man." She smiled at him now.
"Yeah, he is."
"Maybe what you ought to learn is how to rope a husband." He told her harshly.
"I've had a husband; it didn't do any good!" she frowned.
"Well, you better consider it, because you won't make it alone out here." He insisted. "And even if you sell, it probably won't be enough to keep you going any length of time."
"Tell me something, truthful…"
"What?"
"If I was a saloon girl, would you come see me?"
"Sure," he smiled, then grinned into her sparkling, blue eyes. "I'd come see you, maybe kiss you, then I'd jerk you out of there over my shoulder."
"Why," She stared at him with surprise. "Aren't I allowed to make a living for myself?" she fumed.
He shook his head and laughed, "Not that way, honey. Not that way."
She bit her lip. When he called her honey, she felt her whole body react to that word. No one had ever talked sweet talk to her. She wanted to ignore everything he said, but it touched her heart. And he didn't even realize it.
When he didn't say anything more, she took the reins out of his hands and whipped the mule to go faster.
It was a long ride and they didn't talk the rest of the way.