by Hebby Roman
But Bart, gentleman that he was, sprang to his feet and bowed low, his Southern-accented voice dripping molasses and honey. “I’m happy to have been of assistance, even if it was a lucky guess on my part.” His gaze met hers, and she read both an offer and a challenge there. “I’ve often depended upon my luck and seldom been disappointed.”
Understanding his double meaning, she lowered her gaze. He was daring her to accept him on his own terms, his shady past as a gambler interwoven with his unusual tenderness toward her pet. He wanted her to see him as he really was—not as a sinner and man of ill-repute.
Lindsay didn't know how to respond. She wanted to accept him, but a part of her held back. A professional gambler must also be a good actor. What if his kindness was only a facade to win her acceptance? Having been fooled before, it was hard to trust.
She splayed one hand over her belly, as if protecting the child there.
Chapter Three
Bart balanced his coffee cup on one knee and lounged against the porch rail. He couldn’t help but overhear the raised voices coming from the house. Chad and Lindsay were obviously having a heated discussion. Not that he was surprised. On the contrary, he had expected it.
Taking a sip of the strong, black coffee, Bart empathized with Lindsay. It had been damned foolish of Chad to have neglected to prepare her. Why hadn’t he told his sister what they were planning before bringing Bart to meet her?
He prided himself on his diplomacy and skill with people. But if Chad intended for him to charm Lindsay so she’d accept him as a partner, he should have warned him. And she didn’t strike him as a woman who was easily swayed. She struck him as very high-minded and principled, not easily influenced by charm.
Chad’s idea, to purchase her interest over time, had convinced Bart to go through with the deal after he’d learned she owned half of the ranch. Chad intimated Lindsay would probably marry and return to Boston, using their buy-out as her dowry.
He set his empty coffee cup to one side and removed a Cuban cigar from his vest pocket. He lit and puffed on the cigar, but his thoughts kept returning to Chad's unmarried sister.
Men outnumbered women by at least three to one in West Texas. Despite Lindsay’s limitations in the kitchen and her stiff and formal demeanor, she should have plenty of suitors, even if she didn’t go back to Boston.
Yes, Lindsay was one handsome woman with a fine figure. She possessed wide, hazel eyes and glorious golden hair. Her nose was pert and her strawberry-red mouth ripe for kissing. And he didn’t dare dwell on her lush body beneath the fashionable clothes. If he was the marrying kind, he’d almost be tempted. Lucky for him he’d never aspired to be a family man.
Still, Lindsay MacKillian wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of his life.
He doubted she’d be with them for long, though. Men would probably flock from four counties to court her. But Chad needed her consent for their business arrangement, and he was dismayed to think Chad had already bungled the deal by mishandling her.
Drawing on his cigar, he watched as the evening stars appeared in the sky, one by one. If he strained his ears, he could hear the contented bleating of sheep bedding down for the night. The acrid tang of creosote bushes wafted to him on the twilight breeze. He breathed deeply of the fresh air, enjoying this wild and largely uninhabited place, where a man could see the unbroken horizon stretching away for hundreds of miles to the mountains deep in México.
He couldn’t bear to think of settling anywhere else.
* * *
“Why didn’t you tell me about Mr. Houghton? I never dreamed you wanted a partner. When I went back to Boston, the ranch was making a tidy profit,” Lindsay said.
“And when you left, there was tariff protection for domestic wool producers. Since last year, there’s been no protection. Our wool has to compete with Australian and South American wool,” Chad explained.
“Oh,” his sister said. “I didn’t know.”
“And I didn’t bother you with the details because I thought you’d marry and remain in Boston.”
She looked down. Chad wasn’t the only person keeping secrets. She’d had a whole week to tell him about her shameful state, but she’d said nothing. She glanced out the front window toward the porch. Telling him while Bart was only a few feet away wasn’t her ideal way to bare her disgrace. Besides, she wanted to know more about the ranch, first.
“I need to know how bad the financial situation is, Chad.”
Her brother puffed out his cheeks, as if he was taking a deep breath before plunging over his head. “Without tariff protection, our wool didn’t make a profit from the last two shears. Not after shipping and overhead. All of the money we’d saved, I’ve put back into the ranch. But it isn’t enough if we’re going to compete. We need to grow bigger so we can obtain preferred shipping rates on the railroad, and we need more Merino rams to upgrade our wool. And there are some major repairs that should be made, such as replacing the entire northern fence line.”
He combed his fingers through his hair. “That’s about it, Lindsay. Now you know.”
“Yes, I'm beginning to understand. Have you thought of taking out a loan at a bank?” She asked.
“Of course, I have, but I would rather grow with a partner whose capital is committed to the ranch, than go into debt when the times are uncertain. And as the ranch grows, I’ll need help. A partner seemed to be the perfect solution.” His shoulders drooped. “I’ve given the matter a great deal of consideration. I don’t want to mortgage the ranch and run the risk of losing it.”
Lindsay patted his shoulder. “I didn’t realize what you've been going through. You should have written me or at least told me when I came home. I want to help. I wish you would have explained before bringing Mr. Houghton to supper.” She smoothed her skirts. “What are you going to do about my share?”
“Bart and I are going to buy you out, over time.”
“And how much of the ranch are we giving Bart for his capital?”
“He will own one-third. In the meantime, you and I will own the other two-thirds, as equal partners. Just as father left it.” He gazed at her. “But if you’re going to marry, we need to buy you out now.”
“Why?”
“Because once you marry, your husband will own your share, not you, Lindsay. It was one of the reasons I wondered why Father left you half of the ranch. I thought he would have set aside a dowry for you.”
“I don’t think it works that way in Texas. Aunt Minnie was very knowledgeable about business affairs. She explained that, in Massachusetts, anything I inherited becomes the property of my husband. But Texas’ laws are based on old Spanish customs. They have a law called community property, which means anything I inherit is still mine, even though I’m married. Though half the income belongs to my husband.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, and I think it’s one of the reasons Aunt Minnie is going to leave you half of her shipping business and warehouses in Boston. Because, as a man in Massachusetts, your half would stay in the family.”
Chad grunted. “That’s nice to know Aunt Minnie is including me, too.”
“I think she and Father decided to do it this way, split both inheritances between the two of us, so we’d be certain to have a stake in each place, whether I decided to stay in Boston or come home.” She sighed and lowered her head. “But now it doesn’t really matter. I won’t be needing my part of the ranch or Aunt Minnie’s inheritance, either.”
It was past time to tell him, with or without Bart around. Besides, everyone would know her secret soon enough. Chad had shared his situation with her, and he needed to know what she planned to do, so he could deal with Bart and move forward with the ranch.
She went on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. “I’ll sign over my part of the ranch to you. That will make it easier for you and Bart.”
His eyes widened, and his mouth went slack. “Why… why would you do that?”
She lowered her head again and gazed at her high-top boots. In her hurry to get supper started, she’d missed one of the holes to lace them up.
He raised his eyebrows and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. He thrust it at her. “This just came from our Aunt Minnie. I got it when I picked up Bart in town. I don’t quite understand it, but I know you will.”
Gazing at the crumpled telegram, her heart plummeted and a wave of nausea crawled up her throat. The half-cooked mutton lay like a pile of bricks at the bottom of her stomach. But she’d known it was coming—that Aunt Minnie would telegraph or write her brother.
She took the crumpled paper from her brother and smoothed it out, silently mouthing the words:
“Hope Lindsay arrived in Langtry safe. STOP Please advise. STOP She left Boston in hurry. STOP She is welcome back. STOP No matter what Seamus did. STOP”
“I thought you were engaged to this Seamus. What is Aunt Minnie talking about? What did he do to you, and why did you rush home without explaining?”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
He stared at her, his eyes bulging in his face. He took a deep breath and then another. He was panting, breathing hard, like when he wrestled a sheep to the ground. “You’re what?”
“Please, don’t make me repeat it.” She glanced out the front window again.
He fisted his hands and brought them up in a fighter’s stance. Good Lord, was he going to strike her? She’d never expected her beloved brother to lay a hand on her, no matter what she’d done.
“And this Seamus, your fiancé, he’s the one who did it to you. Right?” His face had turned a mottled red, and he leaned closer, thrusting his face into hers.
She backed up a few paces and nodded.
He cursed under his breath. “I’ll kill him! I’ll get on the first train to Boston and kill the man. I swear it.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “He’s gone, Chad. Aunt Minnie had him investigated and learned he’d gambled his family’s money away. She let it be known I wouldn’t be inheriting from her.” She cleared her throat and felt the familiar creep of heat flooding her neck and face. “He fled Boston. I’m certain Aunt Minnie’s investigator could find him, but she didn’t want me to marry him. He was a fortune hunter.”
His mouth gaped open, and he glanced at her stomach. “Then how did he—”
“Get me with child?” she whispered, keeping her head lowered. “It happened before Aunt Minnie found out he’d lost his fortune. I let him seduce me, let him anticipate our wedding night.” She plucked at her brother’s sleeve. “I’d waited so long to marry, and I thought Seamus…” She shook her head again. “I’m twenty-eight years old and—”
“And you came home to hide and have your baby?”
She nodded and then lifted her head, gazing directly into his eyes. “But I’m prepared to atone for my sin.” She fingered her mother’s wedding ring beneath the stiff layer of her bodice. “I’ll have the baby, return to Boston and enter a convent. I’ll spend my life as a nun, asking God’s forgiveness.” She crossed herself.
“What about the baby?”
“I had thought to take the child to an orphanage in Boston, but when I saw Abby—”
“Abby, who is Abby?”
“You probably don’t remember her… or you remember her as Abigail Kerr.”
“The girl your age at the boardinghouse in Del Rio?”
“Yes.”
“What’s she got to do with this?”
“We’ve stayed in contact over the years by writing letters. She’s grown up, and she’s been widowed and then remarried. She has an eight-year-old son with another on the way.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I still don’t understand.”
“I stopped in Del Rio and told Abby about my condition.” She gazed at him, hoping he could see the pleading look in her eyes. “I needed to practice before telling you.” She hesitated and laced her fingers together. “And then Abby said, rather than taking my baby to an orphanage and letting strangers raise my child, she and her new husband, Sheriff Graham, would raise the child as their own.”
Thinking about Abby’s offer, tears burned at the back of her throat. She sniffed, not wanting to cry, especially in front of her brother.
“Is that what you want, Lindsay?” he asked.
She twisted her fingers together, pulling at them until the joints hurt. “I guess it’s better than an orphanage, isn’t it?”
“And you want to be a nun?”
“Not really. I don’t have a true vocation. But I’m a ruined woman. What else is there for me?” She turned aside, not wanting her brother to see the hot tears spilling over.
“There’s another way. A way you can keep your baby and stay here. What if it’s a boy?”
She lifted one shoulder. “What if it is?”
“Don’t you see, he’s family. You should want to raise your own child.”
“What if my child is a girl?”
Chad hesitated, as if considering. Then he shook his head. “Same thing.”
“But the child, what about the child? He or she would be stained as a bastard. I know Langtry is a wild kind of place, but there are people who would—”
“Bart will marry you and give the child a name. I’ll make it part of our partnership agreement.” He snapped his fingers. “It’s the perfect solution.” He gazed at her, his lips twitching, almost smiling. “I’d thought when y’all met that maybe, since you hadn’t said anything about your engagement, you’d be attracted—”
“Attracted? Attracted, indeed? What do you take me for?” Not a fair question, considering she was with child and unmarried. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Forget I said that, but why would he marry a ruined woman for a business partnership?”
“Because he owes me.” Chad looked down and kicked at a worn spot in the parlor rug with the toe of his boot. “I saved his life at the Jersey Lily. Some of the boys thought he was cheating. He’s so damned good at cards, it looks like cheating, but it isn’t.”
“And this is the kind of man you want me to marry? To partner with and raise my child? A professional gambler? I just told you what happened to my fiancé; he gambled his inheritance away.”
“Bart’s not like that. He comes from a good family. His father was a preacher or something. He learned early he was good at counting cards, it gave him an advantage, and let him drift around the West without having to work.”
“Chad, that’s what I mean, he’s a gambler. A bad man, he’s—”
“But he’s done with gambling. He’s seen the West and knows it’s filling up and changing. He’s tired of roaming, and there’s nothing for him in Alabama. And he’s saved his money. He wants to invest his money in our ranch.”
She shuddered. “Blood money. Bad money.”
“You shouldn’t judge.”
She sucked in her breath and leaned over, clutching her stomach. If he had struck her, he couldn’t have hurt her more. Her stomach heaved, and she was afraid she’d be sick.
But he must have realized how she felt because he reached out and took her into his arms. “I shouldn’t have said that, Lindsay. Shouldn’t have judged you.” He grasped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “None of us should judge. Bart wants to start over. Is that so bad?”
“No, no, I can understand.” She backed up a pace, as he released her. “But I don’t want a husband.” She shook her head from side to side. “I don’t want a man to touch me again. Never!”
“I understand, Sis. But the marriage could be in name only. After you have the baby, you could get a divorce or something. Then you’d be free to do as you please, but you’d still have your child and the child would have a name.”
She hung her head. “I don’t know, Chad. I don’t know. It’s all too much.” She lifted her head and gazed at him. “Can I have time to think about it? And don’t you need to get Bart’s agreement
, too?”
“Yes, I need to explain to Bart. But the sooner you get married, the better or—”
“Or tongues will wag and all of Langtry will be counting backwards on their fingers.”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I need to think it over.”
* * *
“You want me to do what?” Bart asked.
“Marry my sister as part of our agreement,” Chad said.
“Because she got herself in the family way, and her fiancé ran off?”
“That’s about the extent of it.”
“Does Lindsay want this? Want me?” Bart scrubbed his chin. “She didn’t seem to take to my past profession.”
“She’s thinking it over, Bart.” Chad snagged his gaze. “I won’t lie to you. But the marriage could be in name only. Then you could divorce.”
“And all three of us would live here on the ranch, not to mention her child?”
“She might return to Boston. Our aunt said she was welcome back, no matter what.”
Bart paced to the edge of the front porch, thinking. A sham marriage to give Lindsay’s child a name. His blessed mother would have said it was the Christian thing to do. And even though Chad hadn’t mentioned it, he did owe Chad his life.
But could he pull it off, marry Lindsay and keep his hands off her? Keep their relationship strictly business? She was a beautiful woman, and even though she seemed stiff and even judgmental, he couldn’t help but be attracted to her. Underneath all that primness, he thought he’d glimpsed a giving heart and a generous nature.
There was a lot to like about Chad’s sister. And even though he’d never envisioned himself as a family man, he might be willing to settle down, if they were suited to each other. And they’d have plenty of time to find out—until she gave birth.
He stroked his chin, considering. Would it bother him to raise another man’s child? Not really. He’d often wished someone would have adopted him after his mother died. Then he wouldn’t have been subjected to his father’s mean-spirited and tyrannical rule. Children were innocent and deserved a loving start.
