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  He looked down at his hands, feeling badly. "I had no idea it would upset you. Really."

  "I know, and that makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong for getting upset about it, but truly? I feel like you aren't trying to get to know me at all. Like you're pigeonholing me with every other woman you've ever met. What do you really know about me? You know I'm your wife, but what do you know about Savannah? I existed before we met, you know." She knew she was pushing too far with her words, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. He had to understand how he was making her feel.

  Scott felt a burst of anger. He'd tried hard to get to know her, and felt like he was doing better every day. Why would she criticize him like that? "Is there something wrong? Are you feeling PMS coming on? 'Cuz I can clear out now if I need to!"

  "PMS? Really? No, I'm not feeling PMS unless PMS stands for prepubescent male stupidity!" She got up and started clearing the table, smashing things together harder than she should have. She took his plate and scraped what was left into the trash can.

  "Hey! I wasn't done eating that!"

  "You are now!"

  She put his plate into the dishwasher and turned on the garbage disposal. There was nothing in there; she just wanted to drown out the sound of his voice for a moment. When she finally stopped it, she turned, and he was gone. It was a good thing, because she wasn't certain she could have refrained from throwing something. What a way to start a marriage!

  After she'd finished the breakfast dishes, she picked up her cell phone. It was much too early to be calling Dr. Simpson, but maybe she wouldn't have any patients with her yet.

  "This is Dr. Lachele Simpson."

  "Please tell me you make house calls!"

  The laughter from the other end of the line made Savannah consider homicide. For all she knew, the good doctor had already hired a body guard.

  "Oh, Savannah. You're doing so much better than you were the last time you called. I can tell just by the tone of your voice. Last time you were really ready to leave him. This time, you're just exasperated with him. What did he say? Men say some of the most asinine things, don't they?" The doctor's voice was calm and soothing, and it just made Savannah angrier.

  "He asked me if I had PMS when I was explaining very politely why it's not okay to give your wife a gift you bought for your dead mother! It still had dust on it!"

  Dr. Simpson burst out laughing, and it didn't sound like she'd ever stop. "Oh my word! He didn't!"

  "He did! I thought you screened him!"

  The laughter stopped. "I will fly out this weekend if you really think you need me, but I think you two can make this work without my intervention. Just remember, you both have the same goal in mind. You want to make the marriage work. You both want children. Everything he does is just what I like to call 'dumb man syndrome.' Once he learns how you want him to treat you, things will get better."

  "I hope so! I'm trying...really I am."

  "I know you are." Dr. Simpson sighed. "Let me know by Thursday if you need me to fly out for the weekend, and I will."

  "Thank you. I think I just needed to say something to someone. I don't have any girlfriends out here yet. I don't dare call my mother, because she's waiting for a call to come identify my body..." Savannah let her voice trail off, knowing she sounded overly dramatic, but her mother really was certain Scott was going to kill her at any moment.

  The laughter came rolling over the phone line. "Go take a shower. Or a long hot bath. Have you considered investing in a hot tub? Water is so calming..."

  "That's a good idea. Maybe I'll tell Scott I won't kill him if he'll just get me something to calm my nerves. You know, like a hot tub, a week alone on an island in the South Pacific, or even valium would work! I'd take valium!"

  "You have a good day. Keep your sense of humor about the things he does. Imagine what it would have been like for a fly on the wall watching him give you that gift."

  Savannah sighed. "Don't remind me of the gift." She put soap into the dishwasher and closed it. "Thanks for talking to me, Dr. Simpson. I feel much better."

  Savannah did the laundry while dancing to music on her iPod. She was determined to not only stay content in her marriage but to not let her husband drive her crazy. He really was a good man, and she enjoyed being with him...most of the time.

  *****

  Scott waited until the men were out of earshot before he talked to Jesse. "I can't figure out what I did wrong! I did what you said and gave her a nice gift."

  "What did you give her?"

  "A really nice electric mixer!" Scott said, throwing up one hand while he kept hold of his gelding's reins with the other. "Why wouldn't she be happy with that?"

  Jesse made a face. "Didn't you tell me you two had a fight just last week about how she thought she should be able to go to work, and you said she should stay home and cook?"

  Scott nodded. "Yeah. So?"

  "So why would you get her a kitchen appliance after having that fight? Have you lost your ever loving mind?"

  Scott frowned, recognizing the wisdom in the older man's words. "Well, I didn't think of that. I just wanted to give her something nice, and I had that gift all wrapped in the closet already."

  Jesse stopped his horse. "Why did you already have the gift wrapped in the closet?"

  "I got it for my mom for Christmas right before she died. There was no reason to waste it." He knew Jesse was a frugal man, so he'd understand.

  Jesse closed his eyes, pinching the top of his nose as if to ward off a headache. "Please tell me it wasn't wrapped in Christmas paper."

  "Well..."

  "Did you tell her it was for your dead mother?" Jesse's voice was a near yell by that point.

  "I couldn't lie to her," Scott felt more stupid by the moment. Savannah had tried to explain the problem very calmly, and she'd made no sense to him. Jesse, on the other hand, was coming through loud and clear. "I probably shouldn't have asked her if she was getting PMS when she got mad at me about it either, huh?"

  "Okay, boy, did you buy that book I suggested?"

  Scott shook his head. "Not yet."

  "Here's what I think you should do. First, call that doctor lady that set you two up. Did she realize how hopeless you were?" Jesse asked.

  Scott frowned. "I don't mean to be hopeless. I really thought she'd like it."

  Jesse shook his head. "I worry about you sometimes, but then I remember your dad was just as clueless when he first married. Your mom left him for a month once."

  "She didn't!" He'd always thought of his parents as the happiest couple alive.

  "She got sick and tired of your dad's cluelessness." Jesse shrugged. "That doesn't matter now, though. Here's what I think you need to do. Call that doctor lady and ask for advice. Ask her what she thinks you should get Savannah as a gift. Whatever she says, you do it. Exactly. And then you buy her flowers and chocolate. Like a whole vat of chocolate. But find out first if she likes milk chocolate or dark chocolate. Nuts or no nuts. Those things are important to women."

  "So you want me to call Lachele Simpson to find out what kind of gift to get my wife, and then find out if she prefers dark or milk chocolate? And if she likes her chocolate with nuts or without? And then buy her flowers and chocolates and whatever gift Lachele wants me to get her?" It sounded like a lot to him, but he'd do it. He didn't want to lose his wife, even for a month. Sometimes he wished she understood him better, but he was falling in love with her, and didn't want to be away from her.

  "Yes. And then you need to pray as hard as you can pray, because most women would have not only left you by now, they'd have come after you with a frying pan first." Jesse kicked his horse to get him moving again. "And whatever you do? Don't buy her exercise equipment, a vacuum cleaner, or answer the question, 'Do I look fat in this?' This is important. Are you listening to me?"

  Scott nodded, taking mental notes. "I
promise. I won't ever do any of that. I'm not stupid."

  "You're not exactly proving that with your actions lately."

  Scott sighed dramatically. "I guess I'm not. I'll make the call and see what I can do."

  *****

  Savannah took a long hot bath just before Scott came home for dinner. Dr. Simpson told her it was calming, and she knew that the calmer she was when Scott got home, the better their evening would be. She was determined not to throw anything at him and to pretend he had done nothing wrong.

  She was putting supper on the table when he walked in. Instead of giving him the cold shoulder, which was what she really wanted to do, she walked to him and kissed him. "Did you have a good day?"

  He was surprised at her show of affection, but not one to pass up an opportunity, he dipped her over his arm and kissed her passionately. "Day was good, except I kept worrying about my beautiful wife. I miss you when I'm not with you."

  She looked at him with surprise. It was the first time he'd indicated any feelings for her other than passion. She liked it. "I'm glad you're home," she said simply, and she found she meant it. She wanted to make him happy, and she knew he wanted to make her happy. He just had no clue how to go about it.

  After dinner, while they sat on the back porch as they did most nights, he asked, "Do you like chocolate?"

  If she was surprised by the question, she didn't give any indication. "Yes, I'm alive, therefore I like chocolate." What woman didn't like chocolate? And if he was going to get her chocolate to make up for being clueless? She'd take it.

  "Dark or milk?" he asked without missing a beat.

  "Milk, of course. Dark is too bitter in my opinion."

  "Nuts or no nuts?"

  "Why would anyone ruin good chocolate by putting nuts in it? Now, if you want to add caramel, I'm all over that." She looked up at him from where her cheek rested on his shoulder. "Why do you ask?"

  "I was thinking about getting you a vat of chocolate to swim around in to make up for my stupidity."

  She laughed. "You're not stupid. You're just—we'll call it relationally challenged."

  He stroked her back. "That sounds much nicer than stupid. I accept!"

  She smiled. "Is this your way of apologizing?"

  "Nope. It's just declaring my intent to apologize for being relationally challenged."

  "Oh?"

  "That's all I'm telling you for now." He kissed her forehead. "Want to go take your driver's test in the morning? I think you're ready."

  "I'd like that a lot." She hated having to wait for him to do every little thing. Grocery shopping alone sounded like pure bliss at that point.

  "And after we'll go car shopping."

  She had looked up sports cars online, intending to make him a little crazy. "Does this mean you're going to buy me a Jaguar or a Porsche? I'd take either one."

  He shook his head. "How about we get your license, and then we test drive a couple of cars? I'd like to see you in an SUV or a mini-van. Both would be great when the kids come."

  Secretly she agreed with his assessment of the best car for her, but she wanted to try to push his buttons. "But the Jaguar has such sleek lines. Think of how fast I could go with a Jaguar!"

  "Absolutely not. I've seen what you can do in my pick-up. A sports car is not in your future, dear wife."

  She pouted. "May I at least test drive one? See how fast it can go?"

  "No! Absolutely not!" He looked at her with alarm. "You don't want to lose your license the day you get it!"

  "Do I get to at least have some say in the color of my car?"

  He thought about that for a minute. "Anything but red. I think red would inspire you to go faster."

  "Well that's silly, but since I don't particularly like red, I don't care." She was very excited at the prospect of taking her driving test. "Do you really think I'm ready to get my license?"

  He nodded. "I know you've practiced around the ranch every day. When we've driven on the roads you've had no problems. Yeah, I think you're going to do great." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "After you pass, we'll pick out a car. I'll even take you out to lunch."

  "I get to eat someone's cooking other than my own? That sounds so awesome!"

  Scott sighed. "Married for less than a month and already you're complaining about cooking. What are you going to be like in a year?"

  Savannah grinned. "I'll be cooking every night just like I do now, but I might be complaining about it a bit more." She stood up and took his hand, pulling him up from the swing. "Seriously, I like to cook, and I enjoy cooking for you. I just like a break on occasion." She pulled him back into the house through the kitchen and toward the stairs.

  "Where are we going?" he asked.

  "Bed."

  He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

  Chapter Eight

  After Savannah passed her test the following day, they stopped to eat lunch before going car shopping. For once the person seating them didn't immediately start talking to Scott as if they'd known him all his life.

  Once they were seated, Savannah leaned forward, a perplexed look on her face. "Is everything all right?"

  Scott frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "You didn't know the girl who seated us! I thought you knew everyone in the entire state of Montana."

  He chuckled. "I guess I missed that girl. She must be new to the area."

  Savannah kicked him under the table.

  "Ouch! What was that for?"

  "You could have said something like, 'I've seen her around, but never really noticed her, because I was saving my heart for you.'"

  "Like you would believe a line like that. You're an intelligent woman. You know a girl like her wouldn't have looked twice at a clod like me." He wound his fingers through hers as he looked over his menu.

  "You really can be a clod, Scott Ward. I'm starting to like you anyway."

  "When I'm only being a clod and not an ass you mean?" He grinned, trying to make light of all his mistakes. He knew he was a mess, but he was glad she was seeing past his errors.

  "That's exactly what I mean." She looked over her menu, trying to decide what she wanted to eat. "What's good here?"

  He shrugged. "I like just about everything. This is my favorite place to bring—" He stopped talking suddenly, looking like he was involved with his menu. "I really like the fried chicken. Some of the best I've ever had."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. "You were about to say this is your favorite place to bring a date, weren't you?"

  He sighed and nodded. "Yes, but you weren't supposed to catch on."

  "What's the longest relationship you've ever been in?" she asked suddenly. She couldn't imagine any woman putting up with him for longer than a month or two.

  "Three months. She was nominated for sainthood after that long."

  "She needed to be," Savannah mumbled under her breath.

  Scott laughed, thankful she was at least laughing about his ineptness. "I don't mean to be so stupid about women, you know. From what my foreman tells me, my dad was just as bad until my mom trained him."

  "Did she use a whip or a shock collar?" Savannah asked without missing a beat.

  Scott grinned, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. "I think she just used love. It seemed to work."

  "I'm getting a dog training book," she mumbled under her breath. "Couldn't hurt. Might help."

  "You want a puppy to go with it?" he asked. "I love puppies."

  She shook her head at him. "Not yet. I think we need a little more time to annoy each other first."

  He shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

 

  *****

  Three hours later, Savannah pulled up in front of the house in her new SUV. She was thrilled with the vehicle. It had everything she could want from a navigation system to heated seats. She'd known Scott wasn't a poor man, but she'd been su
rprised when he'd paid for the vehicle with a check. Obviously she didn't need to work at all, but she liked the idea of continuing to teach, at least for a while.

  She got out of the SUV just as he pulled up behind her. "Do you have any idea how fast you were driving?" he asked as he got out of his truck. Her speed was starting to scare him, but she always had perfect control of the vehicle.

  She shrugged. "Speed limit?"

  "You were doing eighty-five in a seventy!"

  "Is that too fast?" she gave him an innocent look, refusing to back down from his angry stare.

  "Much too fast. Your speed scares me. You're a good driver, but you're going to get in trouble when the snow comes. You're still going to think you can drive ninety miles per hour, and you're going to end up in a ditch somewhere."

  She stepped forward and put her palm flat on his chest, her eyes wide as they looked up at him. "And you'll come and get me out, right?"

  He groaned. "Yes, I'll come get you out, but I'd really rather you didn't end up in a ditch to begin with!"

  She shrugged. "Me too, but if it happens, it happens." She walked toward the house. "What do you want for dinner?" she called back as she walked.

  He shook his head. She had to be the most exasperating, beautiful, hard headed, sexy woman he'd ever met. Sometimes he wanted to fly to New York and hug Lachele Simpson thanking her for the wonderful match, and sometimes he wanted to fly out there and wring her neck. "Food!" he answered, heading for the stable. He'd wasted too much of his work day playing with his wife already.

  Savannah was chuckling to herself as she walked into the house. He made her crazy at times, but he was a good man at heart. How could she complain?

  *****

  Savannah was exhausted as she drove home after her orientation with the Pinkston School District. She liked the teachers she'd work with, but it felt strange to be at a new school. She'd be teaching world history two periods per day and English four periods. The only PE teacher taught history two periods per day as well, and that covered all of the history needed by the school.