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Megan stared at him for a long moment. “Fine!” Then she climbed into the carriage across from Charles and looked out the window.
Dallas glared at her through the window, clenching his teeth, but she didn’t look up at him. “I’ll be right back,” Dallas spat out, and then headed toward Milo, waiting by the buggy. Without saying a word, Dallas caught his attention and inclined his head in the direction of the ranch, indicating for him to follow them. Milo nodded once and then climbed into the buggy.
Dallas walked around to the other side of the carriage, obstructing the men’s view of Megan. “Home, Bill.”
Megan slid away from him and looked out the window on her side of the carriage.
Dallas looked out the window on his side, trying to calm down, wondering how in the world they could ever find a compromise to make their marriage work. She was just too headstrong… and it was liable to get her killed.
Chapter 16
Megan
Megan was fuming as she looked out the carriage window on the way home. Whether Dallas realized it or not, she was his equal and she expected to be treated as such. Looking back, she probably shouldn’t have come into town, but he didn’t need to yell at her the way he did. Megan had never taken orders from a man before and she wasn’t going to start now.
Any other time, she would have enjoyed the landscape, the sun sparkling upon the snow with the evergreen trees sprouting up from it, as if they had been set there purposefully. But she was too upset. And the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She was not going to be treated like a porcelain doll. And if she wanted to cook dinner, then by golly she would. Dallas was just going to have to get used to it.
Dallas sat next to her and never made a move to reach for her hand like he usually did. Charles didn’t say anything, either.
Megan would have asked him when he planned to leave for New York, just to start a conversation, but now wasn’t the time.
As they rode along, Megan thought of her situation. Even if she persuaded Charles to take her back to New York when he left, there was nothing waiting there for her. She was completely at Dallas’s mercy, entirely dependent upon him, and she didn’t like it. She thought that maybe she could ask Harrison Curry for a job waitressing, if she ever left Dallas. But could she stand tosee him with another woman? Perhaps she could go to Laramie, but she would need money in order to do that.
Her heart sank at the thought of leaving Dallas. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Despite his faults, he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. But they were going to have to reach some kind of compromise if they were ever going to make it work between them.
A few minutes later, the carriage pulled down the long drive of Dallas’s ranch. She cringed internally. Would she ever come to think of it as her ranch, too? She wondered if she ever could. As soon as the carriage came to a stop, Megan opened the door and slid out, not waiting for Dallas. Then, she walked over to the buggy and grabbed the bags. She hated having charged everything to Dallas’s account… another reminder of her dependence upon him. But she had no other choice.
Sometimes she wished that having money wasn’t so important. But if they had had money for food, then her parents wouldn’t have died. And if she and Liam had had money, then she wouldn’t have had to work so late at the factory, and he would still be alive. Somehow, she knew she was going to have to get used to being dependent upon Dallas. After all, she was his wife. But her independent nature was just too strong to accept it. To Megan, losing her independence was losing a part of herself, which she could never allow.
Dallas grabbed the rest of the bags and followed behind her. Then he set the bags down on the kitchen table and walked out, ignoring Jacques’s dirty looks.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Jacques’s voice bellowed in his French accent, waving around the butcher knife he was holding. “You are soiling my kitchen!”
Megan smirked as she began unpacking the groceries. “I hardly call it ‘soiling.’ I’m cooking dinner tonight.” Then she added for his benefit, “If ye don’t mind.”
“Youwhat?” he screeched, his voice raising several octaves.
Mrs. Daly ran into the kitchen and looked back and forth between them, her eyes wide.
Megan smiled sweetly. “Please?”
Jacques stared at her for a long moment, and then laid down the butcher knife. “May I assist you?” he asked sarcastically, folding his hands in front of him, raising his eyebrows.
Megan smiled. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Then an idea struck her. “Jacques, why don’t you take the night off?”
Jacques’s eyes opened wide. “The night off?”
Mrs. Daly bit her lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Yes.” Megan smiled sweetly. She needed tonight to feel some semblance of control, if nothing else. She hadn't cooked since leaving New York and she missed it.
“Very well, then.” Jacques lifted his chin. “I know when I am not needed.Bonne nuit.”
“Jacques, it’s only for tonight….” Megan yelled after him, watching him go.
Mrs. Daly patted her arm. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. He just got his nose cut out of joint a bit, is all.”
Megan nodded as she started unpacking the groceries, slamming things a bit harder than she had intended.
