Callaghan's Bride

Chapter Three

E verything would have been absolutely fine, except that she forgot to take the necklace off the next morning and the brothers gave her a hard time over breakfast. That, in turn, embarrassed Cag, who stomped out without his second cup of coffee, glaring at Tess as if she’d been responsible for the whole thing.

They apologized when they realized that they’d just made a bad situation worse. But as the day wore on, she wondered if she shouldn’t have left the necklace in its box in her chest of drawers. It had seemed to irritate Cag that she wanted to wear it. The beautiful thing was so special that she could hardly get past mirrors. She loved just looking at it.

Her mind was so preoccupied with her present that she didn’t pay close attention to the big aquarium in Cag’s room when she went to make the bed. And that was a mistake. She was bending over to pull up the multicolored Navajo patterned comforter on the big four-postered bed when she heard a faint noise. The next thing she knew, she was wearing Herman the python around her neck.

The weight of the huge reptile buckled her knees. Herman weighed more than she did by about ten pounds. She screamed and wrestled, and the harder she struggled the harder an equally frightened Herman held on, certain that he was going to hit the floor bouncing if he relaxed his clinch one bit!

Leo came running, but he stopped at the doorway. No snake-lover, he hadn’t the faintest idea how to extricate their housekeeper from the scaly embrace she was being subjected to.

“Get Cag!” she squeaked, pulling at Herman’s coils. “Hurry, before he eats me!”

“He won’t eat you,” Leo promised from a pale face. “He only eats freeze-dried dead things with fur, honest! Cag’s at the corral. We were just going to ride out to the line camp. Back in a jiffy!”

Stomping feet ran down the hall. Torturous minutes later, heavier stomping feet ran back again.

Tess was kneeling with the huge reptile wrapped around her, his head arched over hers so that she looked as if she might be wearing a snaky headdress.

“Herman, for Pete’s sake!” Cag raged. “How did you get out this time?”

“Could you possibly question him later, after you’ve got him off me?” she urged. “He weighs a ton!”

“There, there,” he said gently, because he knew how frightened she was of Herman. He approached them slowly, careful not to spook his pet. He smoothed his big hand under the snake’s chin and stroked him gently, soothing him as he spoke softly, all the time gently unwinding him from Tess’s stooped shoulders.

When he had him completely free, he walked back to the aquarium and scowled as he peered at the lid, which was ajar.

“Maybe he’s got a crowbar in there,” he murmured, shifting Herman’s formidable weight until he could release the other catches enough to lift the lid from the tank. “I don’t know why he keeps climbing out.”

“How would you like to live in a room three times your size with no playmates?” she muttered, rubbing her aching shoulders. “He’s sprained both my shoulders and probably cracked part of my spine. He fell on me!”

He put Herman in the tank and locked the lid before he turned. “Fell?” He scowled. “From where?”

“There!”

She gestured toward one of the wide, tall sculptured posts that graced his king-size bed.

He whistled. “He hasn’t gone climbing in a while.” He moved a little closer to her and his black eyes narrowed. “You okay?”

“I told you,” she mumbled, “I’ve got fractured bones everywhere!”

He smiled gently. “Sore muscles, more likely.” His eyes were quizzical, soft. “You weren’t really scared, were you?”

She hesitated. Then she smiled back, just faintly. “Well, no, not really. I’ve sort of got used to him.” She shrugged. “He feels nice. Like a thick silk scarf.”

Cag didn’t say a word. He just stood there, looking at her, with a sort of funny smile.

“I thought they were slimy.”

The smile widened. “Most people do, until they touch one. Snakes are clean. They aren’t generally violent unless they’re provoked, or unless they’re shedding or they’ve just eaten. Half the work is knowing when not to pick them up.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I’ve had Herman for twelve years,” he added. “He’s like family, although most people don’t understand that you can have affection for a snake.”

She studied his hard face, remembering that his former fiancée had insisted that he get rid of Herman. Even if he loved a woman, it would be hard for him to give up a much-loved pet.

“I used to have an iguana,” she said, “when I was about twelve. One of the guys at the rodeo had it with him, and he was going off to college. He asked would I like him.” She smiled reminiscently. “He was green and huge, like some prehistoric creature, like a real live dragon. He liked shredded squash and bananas and he’d let you hold him. When you petted him on the head he’d close his eyes and raise his chin. I had him for three years.”

“What happened?”

“He just died,” she said. “I never knew why. The vet said that he couldn’t see a thing wrong with him, and that I’d done everything right by the book to keep him healthy. We could have had him autopsied, but Dad didn’t have the money to pay for it. He was pretty old when I got him. I like to think it was just his time, and not anything I did wrong.”

“Sometimes pets do just die.” He was looking at Herman, coiled up happily in his tank and looking angelic, in his snaky fashion. “Look at him,” he muttered. “Doesn’t look like he’s ever thought of escaping, does he?”

“I still remember when I opened up the washing machine to do clothes and found him coiled inside. I almost quit on the spot.”

“You’ve come a long way since then,” he had to admit. His eyes went to the blue and white sparkle of the necklace and he stared at it.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, wrapping her hand around it guiltily. “I never should have worn it around your brothers. But it’s so lovely. It’s like wearing a piece of the sky around my neck.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said gruffly. “Wear it all you like. They’ll find something else to harp on in a day or so.”

“I didn’t think they’d notice.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I haven’t bought a present for a woman in almost seven years,” he said shortly. “It’s noteworthy around here, despite my intentions.”

Her face colored. “Oh, I know it was just for my birthday,” she said quickly.

“You work hard enough to deserve a treat now and again,” he returned impatiently. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “A little thing like a broken back won’t slow me down.”

He glowered at her. “He only weighs a hundred and ten pounds.”

“Yeah? Well, I only weigh a hundred!”

His eyes went over her suddenly. “You’ve lost weight.”

“You said that before, but I haven’t. I’ve always been thin.”

“Eat more.”

Her eyebrows arched. “I’ll eat what I like, thank you.”

He made a rough sound in his throat. “And where are those new clothes we’ve been trying to get you to buy?”

“I don’t want any more clothes. I have plenty of clothes.”

“Plenty, the devil,” he muttered angrily. “You’ll go into town tomorrow and get some new jeans and shirts. Got that?”

She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I will not! Listen here, I may work for you, but you don’t tell me what I can wear!”