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“Thank you,” she replied softly. Her voice was deep for a woman, smooth and silky.
Olivia stepped forward, wrapped an arm about her waist, and led her back inside. “We are here to take you to the picnic. Drag you if we have to.”
Mrs. Woodhouse looked over her slim shoulder at us, wondering perhaps if we’d do just that.
I glanced at Xander. He just arched a dark brow, but said nothing.
Olivia laughed. “The fair-haired one is my cousin, Tyler, and the other one, the brooder—” she spun around and grinned impishly, “—is Xander.”
We followed the women into the parlor. The room was clean, the fire unlit. Based on the size of the house and the quality of the furnishings, it would seem Mr. Woodhouse had been successful in his affairs.
“Gentlemen,” she murmured as way of greeting, flicking her gaze up to us. “Olivia, I don’t think I feel like going today. Perhaps another time.”
Olivia shook her head. “We won’t take no for an answer, will we?” She turned to glance our way and gave us a pointed look.
“No, we won’t,” I added. “It would be an honor if you’d let us escort you.” She’d only said a few words, but I was intrigued. So was my cock. She was quiet and calm and beautiful and so damn constrained. I wanted to tug at the tight bun at the nape of her neck. I wanted to undo those prim buttons on her dress’s snug collar. I wanted to bring color to her cheeks the only way I knew how, by making her come.
My cock swelled at the idea of mussing her up. The way Xander’s gaze was fixed on her led me to believe he was thinking the same thing. It was wrong though, to have such thoughts about a woman who’d just lost her husband.
“Then it’s settled. Go get your hat and we’ll be off.” Olivia was as good at pushing others around as she was her men.
Mrs. Woodhouse took a moment to consider, biting her plump lower lip as she did so.
“I do not have an offering for the picnic,” she countered.
Olivia dispelled that worry with a wave of her hand. “There is plenty of food. You will not make anyone go hungry, I assure you.”
Knowing arguing would do nothing when it came to Olivia, Emily finally offered a small nod and went through an open doorway toward the back of the house.
Once she was gone, Olivia spun on her heel and pointed to us as she whispered, “Be nice!”
I held up my hands in front of me in a defensive gesture. “That wasn’t nice?” I whispered back.
“You.” She pointed at Xander. “You have to say something. Talk. Have a conversation with the woman.”
Xander’s mouth fell open slightly, but he said nothing.
I stifled a small smile and went to open the front door when Mrs. Woodhouse returned.
We helped the ladies into the wagon and I wondered why Olivia was so particular about us being nice to the woman. It wasn’t until the ranch disappeared over a hill did I discover why.
“You know about the Bridgewater ways,” Olivia said. She and Mrs. Woodhouse sat beside me on the wagon seat with Xander sitting at the back of the wagon, his lower legs dangling off the edge.
I glanced over at Olivia, surprised by her question. Their unusual customs were not well known and those from the ranch didn’t share the information. Many would find it wrong, illegal even. My parents had been careful as well, especially since they lived in Helena, a large city in comparison to Bridgewater’s open prairie. There was a reason she was speaking of it with Mrs. Woodhouse and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Yes,” Mrs. Woodhouse replied.
“Well, Tyler and Xander are looking for a wife.”
No, I didn’t like the answer at all. I pulled up on the reins and stopped the horse. “Olivia,” I warned.
“Olivia, I’m not looking for—”
My cousin cut off the remainder of Mrs. Woodhouse’s sentence. “Nonsense. Your husband was a brute. A tyrant and a drunk. You aren’t mourning him and you need a husband.”
To my surprise, Mrs. Woodhouse jumped down from the wagon and started to walk back toward her ranch. I gave Olivia a dark look, ready to chase after the woman, but Xander hopped off the back of the wagon instead.
He followed her, then ultimately caught up with her, but they continued to walk away from us.
