Page 8 of The Unlikely Wife


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Not even her husband—no, make that especially not her husband. She’d never let him bully or boss her around or tell her what she could and couldn’t do like her cousin Mary’s husband had done. Mary had always been a cheerful and happy sort until she’d gotten hitched. Her husband stripped the life out of her with his controlling, bullying ways. He’d broken Mary’s spirit until she was walking and acting like some dead person. Even worse, Mary had let him.

Well, not this gal.

Michael came back down the stairs and looked her right in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. Chores are man’s work and no wife of mine is going to do men’s chores.”

Just who did this sidewinder think he was, bossing her around like that? She stepped even closer, coming toe-to-toe with him. “And I’ll say it again. No man is ever gonna tell me what I can or can’t do.” Selina refused to be beholden to anybody. She’d seen the ugliness of that, too.

He closed the distance between them until they were almost nose-to-nose. “You’re not doing chores and that’s final.” With one more hard look he whirled and stomped up the stairs.

Well, she could stomp just as hard as he could and she did, too, until she met up with him. Then, she bolted past him and was out the door and in the buckboard before he even made it to the wagon.

He climbed aboard and glanced at her. “You’re incorrigible. You know that?” He snatched up the reins and slapped his horses on the behind. The wagon lurched forward.

She didn’t know what that word meant, but she had a feeling it wasn’t good.

Michael rounded the trees by the main ranch. Oh, no. He should have known his family would do something like this. Neighbors, family and friends filled the ranch yard, along with benches, tables loaded with food and two large signs.

One read: Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Michael Bowen.

The other: Welcome to our family and community, Selina.

The first thought that struck him was his wife’s attire; the second was he hoped she wouldn’t open her mouth. He wanted to turn the horses around and head back home before anyone caught sight of them.

“Here they come,” his sister-in-law Rainee hollered. Rainee waddled toward them as fast as her pregnant belly would allow. Before he could think of a good way to get them out of there, she stepped up to Selina’s side of the wagon and offered her a big welcoming smile. “Selina. Welcome to the family.”

With no grace whatsoever, Selina hopped down. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

Immediately Michael detected suspicion in Selina’s voice. One look at her face confirmed it. He figured it stemmed from her earlier comments about rich folks. Well, she’d just have to put her prejudice aside and learn that not all folks who had wealth treated poor folks badly. Sure, he had turned his nose up at her when he first saw her, but she needed to understand it was the shock of seeing her dressed like a man and not a woman. Like a tomboy. An outlaw even.

The sad fact was, rich and poor alike would find her attire inappropriate. He knew many a poor woman and they didn’t dress like her, so wealth had nothing to do with people judging her. Her lack of propriety did.

Before he had a chance to introduce her, Rainee said, “I am Rainelle Victoria Bowen.” She curtsied. “But, please, call me, Rainee.” Rainee looped arms with Selina and led her to the crowd of people.

This whole thing was a nightmare come true.

Seeing no way out of it, Michael hopped down from the wagon and followed them. When he caught sight of the surprised look on the men’s faces and the horror on some of the women’s as their gazes traveled over her, anger surged through him. He didn’t like her appearance, either, but how dare they openly show disrespect for the woman who was, after all, his wife.

He strode to Selina’s side and placed his hand at the base of her back.

Selina looked up at him, at his arm and then back at his face, a question lingering in her untrusting wide brown eyes.

His gaze remained fixed on her, taking in her face, her high cheekbones and perfectly shaped lips. The woman was beautiful. Why did she hide it under that hat? Perhaps she didn’t know she was beautiful.

Leah and Abby rushed up to meet her.

“Selina, these are my sisters, Leah and Abigail.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Leah gave her a quick hug.

“It’s Abby, not Abigail. That sounds so stuffy. Just like you, Michael.” Abby wrinkled her nose at him and then turned her focus onto Selina. “I love your outfit.” His sixteen-year-old sister smiled, beaming as her gaze raked over Selina’s clothing.

Dear Lord, don’t let Abby start wanting to wear pants, too.

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