by Starla Kaye
Taos headed quickly for the house. “Thanks.”
Hesitantly, Tyler reached for the reins to his father’s horse. She could see that Morgan wanted to hug his son, but couldn’t seem to do it. Instead he said, “Good to see you, boy.”
Tyler gave a nod and hurried away with Demon in tow.
“Give him time,” Chase said quietly. “He’s been through a lot.” He hesitated, holding Morgan’s gaze. “The judge is dead.”
Morgan watched his son walk away and his shoulders sagged. “Rafe?”
“Think so, but no one knows for sure.” Chase turned to follow Tyler. “We’ll talk later.”
Rafe again. Whiskey really wanted—intended—to know more about this “Rafe” person, but a look at Morgan’s troubled face told her this wasn’t the time to press him about it. He looked so weary, so strained. He needed someone. She reluctantly decided that someone was her.
Nerves fluttered within her as she moved right up to him. She reached a shaky hand up to cup his beard-roughened cheek. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I’m glad you’re back.”
He blinked in surprise and then drew her into his embrace. He held her for several long minutes, not saying a word. Finally she started to feel a bulge growing between their closely pressed bodies. Her lower body was trembling, heating. She wanted him, too, with a powerful need that frightened her.
In the next instant he set her away from him. His eyes had darkened; his nostrils flared. “What’s this I hear about you and your sister not getting along?” He glanced down. “Is there some attitude that I need to deal with?”
“What is with you Rydell men wanting to burn a woman’s bottom?” she snapped and shot a glower toward the barn where Chase had disappeared.
“My brother threatened to spank you?” he asked, a frown creasing his brow.
“Spank both of us, Brandy and me,” she admitted and immediately wished she hadn’t. “There was no call for the threat. My sister and I just need some time to adjust to each other. Warming our bottoms won’t make any difference about that.”
Her buttocks clenched. She could sense him weighing whether he wanted to turn her over his knee. She hated being spanked, but understood it more when she’d actually done something to deserve it. This was not a spanking instance. This was personal between her and Brandy. She would not allow it.
To her surprise, he said, “I agree, this time.” He looked toward the house. “Let’s go see if there’s any beans and cornbread left. I’m starving.”
She blew out a breath of relief and turned around.
He stopped her from walking off with a hand on her shoulder. “If’n you didn’t get that dress fitted, Angelina, I will be warming your backside.”
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see because I’m not telling you.” She didn’t know why she didn’t tell him she had done as he’d demanded. Just to annoy him maybe. Not that she intended to ever wear the dress.
He smacked her bottom and earned a yelp. “Glad you chose to obey me on that. Or we’d be riding into town tomorrow to get it done.” He gave her a knowing look when she frowned at him. “You’d be having a right hard time sitting, too.”
She rolled her eyes and stormed to the house. “I still haven’t agreed to marry you, Marshal Rydell.” She walked a little faster, determined not to feel the hard swat of his hand on her bottom again.
Chapter Nine
The sun had popped up close to an hour ago and the ranch was coming to life for another day. Morgan had been up for a while, checked on Demon, and talked to a few of the men before they rode out to mend some more fences. Taos, too, had been up early and already ridden into town to catch up with Keno and go by the telegraph office. He would be wiring in his resignation to the U.S. Marshal’s office in Texas. And he would check for any news about Rafe. Unable to find any more excuses for avoiding going to the house for breakfast, Morgan headed in that direction.
He smelled bacon frying and fresh bread as soon as he reached the bottom of the porch steps. His stomach rumbled with hunger. He glanced at his boots to make sure they weren’t covered with dirt and reached for the back door. He’d shaved extra good and made sure to put on his best Levi’s and a clean shirt before leaving the bunkhouse earlier. He was nervous about meeting Brandy. When he and Whiskey had gone to the house last night, they’d discovered her sister had already gone upstairs to bed. She’d traveled a long day and none of them had wanted to bother her. Truth was, he and Taos had been about dead on their feet as well. So now it was meeting time. For Whiskey’s sake, he wanted to do this right.
His hand was nearly on the door handle when he heard Tyler talking excitedly to Whiskey. “I seen that camel of yers reach his long neck over the fence and grab right onto Taos’s hat. Clean run off with it. Them camels sure do run funny. Anyways, your brother colored the air with words that would get my butt beat by Uncle Chase if I said them. Boy howdy, he was mad.”
So his son had been out and about the ranch yard already this morning. No one had mentioned seeing him. He eased back just out of sight so he could listen a bit longer. It was odd having his son here. He wasn’t sure he even knew what to say to him. But he damn sure better learn because he planned on being a real father. Hell, he had to be a father now that his own father had been killed and couldn’t watch after Tyler. No, he wanted to be a father. It just scared him down to his bones.
“Yes, Taos isn’t all that fond of any of my animals.” She laughed and he savored the light, happy sound. “Your father isn’t fond of them either. Especially his namesake: my skunk.”
Tyler giggled. “Why’d you name your skunk after Pa?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” She giggled, too.
“Bet he hollered at you about it,” Tyler said in a serious tone. “He hollers a lot.”
Morgan flinched at the uneasiness in his son’s voice. Was the boy scared of him? He couldn’t actually recall ever having yelled at his son. It had been his father that he’d had loud disagreements with. Sad as it was, he didn’t rightly miss his father. Mean old bastard to him and Chase when they were growing up. But as far as he knew, the judge hadn’t been as harsh with his grandson. Partly because he hoped he’d made it clear that he would throttle his father if he ever heard about it. And partly because Chase kept a close eye on Tyler, as much as he could.
She walked close to the door and he could smell her scent. He ached for her and he’d thought about her all night. The wedding day couldn’t come soon enough to please him. If Taos hadn’t told him that most of the town was planning on being there, he’d drag her in front of the preacher today. But then, he wanted to see her in that dress, wanted to see her walking down the aisle to become his wife.
“Your father isn’t an easy man,” she said, drawing his attention. “He can seem pretty hard at times, especially when…” She obviously realized what she’d been about to say, probably something about when he spanked her. She hesitated and began again. “It takes a hard man to chase down criminals. But he’s a good man, Tyler. You shouldn’t be frightened of him. He would never, ever hurt you.”
“That’s what Uncle Chase tells me. Mostly I believe him. Still…”
“I wonder where everyone is this morning,” Whiskey said, clearly deciding to change the subject. “Your father generally comes in for breakfast earlier than this. Chase, too. But Brandy tends to sleep in.”
“I believe Chase went into town with Taos. When I glanced out the window a while ago, I thought they were riding off together,” Brandy said as Morgan heard her walk into the kitchen.
“Let’s sit down to eat now that you’re up,” Whiskey said. “Morgan will get here when he gets here.”
Morgan drew in a fortifying breath and pulled open the back door. “Mornin’, everyone.”
He took off his hat and nodded at the sisters. The sight of the two of them together took him back a bit. Same bronze-colored hair: Whiskey’s worn in its usual braid hanging down her back to nearly her waist, B
randy’s done up on top of her head in fancy curls. Same green eyes, both sets pinned on him at the moment. Both women were trim and busty. One shapely body encased in a dress with a line of ruffles down the side of the skirt. The other woman clad, as always, in britches and a tucked-in shirt. He went back to studying Brandy, thinking that Whiskey had looked mighty fine in a dress, too.
“If you’re done ogling my sister,” Whiskey snapped to draw his gaze. Her green eyes flashed with annoyance. “Brandy, this is Marshal Rydell.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He wasn’t sure if he’d done something wrong or not, but his bride-to-be sure looked upset.
Brandy smiled at him, which in turn seemed to ruffle Whiskey’s feathers even more. She stiffened and barked, “Time to eat.”
Brandy gave a quiet chuckle and pulled out a chair at the table by the window. “A bit testy this morning, aren’t you, dear?”
Whiskey ignored her and planted herself in a chair across from her sister. She motioned for Tyler to take the seat at the far end of the table. “Unlike some people, I have things to do today.”
Tyler was gaping in confusion, but scooted by Brandy and took his appointed seat.
Brandy giggled and, as Morgan took a seat at the head of the table, she said with a hint of teasing in her voice, “I have to admit that I’m still rather amazed by this upcoming wedding. You’re not exactly the kind of man I thought my sister would settle down with.” She grew serious. “At least not after what happened to Ace.”
Whiskey sucked in a breath and he saw her grow pale. For a second, then she looked ready to throttle Brandy. He was starting to think like Chase, that both women needed a firm hand applied to their bottoms.
He sent Whiskey a look warning her to behave. She just tipped that sassy chin up a notch. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that they would be having a “discussion” in the near future.
“You mean since I wear a badge like that Ace did?” He reached for the platter of scrambled eggs Manuel had put out for them. “Other than that, ma’am, he and I are nothing alike.”
Brandy took the eggs from him and scooped a small spoonful onto her plate, smiling. “Ace Tanner was a boy in comparison. A boy playing at being a lawman. Still, Whiskey thought she loved him.”
She looked across at her sister. “But you didn’t, did you? Not really. That was just puppy love, as they say.”
Whiskey was grinding her teeth, squirming not to rage back because he had put his hand on her knee in warning. Finally she said as calmly as she could manage, “You wanted Ace as much as I did. Boy or not, you found him exciting. But he preferred me.”
Now Brandy appeared to have trouble holding on to her primness. “Shall we stop this discussion before it gets any more unpleasant.” She nodded toward an avidly listening Tyler. “Young ears.”
So that was part of the problem: they both had wanted the same man. Morgan stepped into the verbal battle. “Good suggestion.” He watched Whiskey struggle to let the subject go, proud of her when she did.
He decided to turn the tables a little on Brandy, who seemed to enjoy antagonizing her sister. “So, what is it that you’ve been up to this last year? Whiskey tells me you said you weren’t in England as everyone thought.”
Brandy’s eyes widened and she focused on scooting the meager amount of eggs around on her plate. “I’ve been…travelling. Back East.”
“Travelling? By yourself? I can’t imagine father allowing that. Or Taos, or Keno, if they knew about it.” Whiskey pinned Brandy with a challenging look.
Lifting her gaze again, Brandy said quietly, firmly, “I don’t wish to discuss my circumstances right now.”
For a second he wondered if Whiskey would let the opportunity to push her twin go, then she gave a curt nod. “Fine. For now.” Clearly changing the subject, she looked at him. “Morgan has promised to turn in his badge. He won’t be a lawman much longer.”
“I know you bought into the ranch, but I can’t believe you’ll actually settle down,” Brandy said in surprise. “Haven’t you been a lawman for quite a number of years? Isn’t it in your blood by now, chasing down outlaws, bringing them to justice?”
She cocked her head to study him. “Over the years, Taos has told me many tales about you, his marshal partner. You’ve got quite a reputation, for upholding the law…and with your gun.”
As Whiskey grew very still, hardly breathing, he wanted to shake Brandy. He remembered Whiskey’s nightmare about him dying in her arms. He remembered telling her last night that he promised not to die like that. He squeezed her knee under the table and felt her shudder. Then at the end of the table he saw Tyler watching, listening intently.
“A man’s wants and needs change. I’m not interested in traipsing all over these lands any longer. There’s younger lawman that can do my job, earn their reputation.” He hoped he was saying this right. “I’ve thought a while now about breeding horses. This is a good ranch for doing that. I need a strong woman at my side and I’ve found one.”
Whiskey blinked and gave a wobbly smile, but she looked uncertain.
“As soon as one final man in particular gets dealt with, I’m turning in my badge.” He just couldn’t quit until he brought Rafe down.
Whiskey’s chin tipped higher. “I’m holding you to that, too.” Then she said under her breath, but he heard her, “I still haven’t agreed to getting married.”
He clenched his teeth and wanted to challenge her on the matter, but he didn’t because of their audience. He didn’t want Tyler to hear them arguing. And it wasn’t any of Brandy’s business. Instead he said, “Same as I’m holding you not to go flying in that damn balloon anymore.”
She frowned.
“Or dance in a saloon again. Or even think about racing down Front Street again. Or…“ He stopped, thinking she got the idea by now. He wouldn’t put up with anymore of her dangerous shenanigans. They scared the hell out of him.
While Whiskey nearly sneered at him, Brandy gave a fluttery laugh. “Haven’t changed a bit, have you, dear sister? Still bucking what’s considered proper behavior. Still up to mischief.”
“She’s turning over a new leaf,” he said as a matter of fact, and as a warning.
“I heard about that balloon, seen it, too, piled up in the barn,” Tyler said, sounding awed. “You sure are something.”
Whiskey looked ready to tongue-lash her sister, but wisely decided not to since Tyler was there with them. But she sent a sizzling glance toward Morgan, yet he also noted pain, which bothered him.
“We haven’t said any vows yet, Marshal Rydell.”
“We will.” He still worried about that pain in her eyes. What had he done now?
She huffed and got to her feet. “I’m going to feed my animals. Completely lost my appetite.”
“Whiskey,” he began, trying to figure out a way to calm her down.
She ignored him and marched out the door, saying over her shoulder, “Maybe you ought to consider marrying Brandy instead. She’s already damn perfect.”
When he would have gone after her, Brandy shook her head. “Leave her be, Morgan.”
Tyler scooted around the table, biscuit in hand, and raced out the door after Whiskey.
He heaved a sigh. “Well damn. That didn’t go near as well as I’d thought. And I don’t even know what I did wrong this time.”
* * *
“How come Brandy makes you so mad?” Tyler asked as he sat a few feet from Whiskey in the barn where she was cleaning her saddle. He held the skunk in his lap and gently stroked its back.
She couldn’t tell him that she felt inadequate whenever her sister was around. She couldn’t tell him she worried that Morgan would be drawn to Brandy. Most men were. Now that she thought about Ace without the rosy eyes of someone in love—or thinking she was in love, she recalled how he’d given her sister more “hot” looks than he’d ever given her. Maybe she’d trapped him into proposing. She couldn’t really remember, except that Brandy had been off in Eng
land when he’d finally asked her to marry him. He’d wanted to sneak kisses, but she’d resisted, wanting to wait until they were married for anything more than an occasional quick peck on the lips. He had gotten frustrated when she’d been insistent on the matter. Then he kept putting off an actual wedding date. He always had some excuse or another and, truthfully, she hadn’t pressed him about it. Maybe he’d only popped the question on a whim or because Brandy wasn’t available. The idea made her sick.
“You all right?” Tyler questioned. As she glanced in his direction, she saw his concern and a fierceness in his eyes. “Maybe she shouldn’ta come here. Maybe you should tell her to leave.”
She shook her head. “This is her home, too. I’d never ask her to leave.”
“But she—”
“We have our differences, our disagreements. Siblings do that from time to time.” She went back to wiping down the saddle with linseed oil. “I imagine your father and your uncle don’t always get along.” Still, it was nice to have someone on her side, even if it was unnecessary.
He shrugged his slender shoulders. “Reckon that’s true, but I don’t hardly ever recall them arguing. Pa just got upset with Grampa.”
He sighed and hugged the skunk. “Pa didn’t like her sniping at you.” Wise eyes had picked up more. “He didn’t like your sniping at her either.”
She looked at the saddle not wanting Tyler to see the heat that had crept up her cheeks. Morgan hadn’t liked the undercurrents at the table. He’d squeezed her knee in a warning to mind what she said, in a warning to behave. The look in his eyes had been full with a promise of something unpleasant if she didn’t stop picking at her sister. But she’d also sensed that he didn’t approve of Brandy making her feel bad. He didn’t understand what was going on between them, but maybe he did some of it. She’d heard him get jealous of Ace. And then when he’d learned that both of them had feelings about Ace… Well, he had gotten testy.
