To Love a Stranger by Connie Mason Page B

regained strength in his legs and was working on his arms. He w’as also consuming prodigious amounts of food. His first appearance at the breakfast table surprised both Zoey and Cully.
    “Should you be downstairs?” Zoey asked with concern. “Less than three weeks ago you lay near death.”
    “I’m fine now,” Pierce answered as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Thought I’d go outside today and look the place over.”
    His words gave Zoey pause. “Why? You’re not going to try to tell me how to run my ranch, are you?”
    “If I’m not mistaken,” Pierce said bluntly, “that piece of paper we both signed gave me control over both you and your land.”
    “No one controls me,” Zoey said from betweenclenched teeth. “You know as well as I that ours isn’t a real marriage.”
    Pierce seated himself at the breakfast table and helped himself to a biscuit. He popped it into his mouth and chewed with relish. “These are good. Are there more?”
    Zoey glared at him. “I suppose you’d like some eggs to go with them.”
    “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Pierce said complacently. He gave her an enigmatic grin. “It’s a wife’s duty to serve her husband.”
    Chuckling to himself, Cully scraped back his chair and rose abruptly. “I reckon I’ll mosey on out to the corral, Miz Zoey. Go ahead and feed your husband. I’ll saddle your horse and meet you later.”
    Zoey slammed a frying pan down on the stove. With ill humor she fried eggs and bacon, biting her tongue to keep from flinging angry words back at him.
    “Where are you going this morning?” Pierce asked curiously.
    “Cully and I are going to round up livestock that have wandered into the mountains. Most of our stock has been stolen or run off, but there are still some around.”
    Pierce frowned. “Do you think that’s wise? Could be dangerous.”
    “Who’s going to do it if I don’t? Samson Willoughby has made it all but impossible to hire decent ranch hands. If I can round up enough steers to sell to the army, we can get through the winter.”
    “What’s the use if Willoughby forecloses?”
    Zoey sent him a scathing glance. “What wouldyou have me do, sit here and do nothing?”
    Pierce’s gaze slowly traveled the length of Zoey’s trim form. The britches she wore hugged her rounded hips and bottom indecently. The arousing sight made him squirm uncomfortably in his chair. The top buttons on her shirt were open, allowing a tantalizing view of creamy skin and hint of tempting breasts. Pierce was certain his fingers would meet if he tried to span her tiny waist with his hands.
    “I’ll go with you,” Pierce said, digging into his breakfast. “You’ll have to loan me a horse.”
    Zoey looked astounded. “You’re not well enough to ride. The section we’re going to is rough and mountainous with steep, treacherous trails. I’ll be glad to loan you a horse when you’re strong enough to sit one.”
    It rankled Pierce that Zoey was correct in her assessment of his condition. He was growing stronger every day but was not yet ready to tackle a mountain trail. Getting himself wounded had been damn inconvenient. Look at the mess he was in because of it. Here he was, married against his will to a tempting vixen and allowed none of the benefits.
    “What are you thinking?” Zoey asked when she noticed the odd look on Pierce’s face.
    “I’m thinking you’re too damn pushy for a woman so desperate for a husband that she railroaded a stranger into marriage.”
    Zoey’s chin rose fractionally. “I
was
desperate, as you well know.” She could see anger burning beneath the dark flush of his jaw. “Cully is waiting for me.” She picked up the lunch she had preparedearlier. “We’ll return by sundown, hopefully with some of our missing livestock.”
    “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Pierce asked, feeling useless for the first time in his life.
    With an impatient motion, Zoey jammed on her hat. “Rest,” she