Farrah stood and the other two followed suit, beating a hasty retreat, exactly as he’d hoped they would if he stirred up trouble. His sister and mother had witnessed enough battles. Dylan usually walked away when the don started shouting. This time, he’d stick till his father heard him out.
“I may have given up my inheritance to Belleza, but the safety of my mother and sister is at stake. The way I see it that gives me the right to comment on how well you protect them. These raids aren’t stopping. They’re getting even
uglier. What makes you think you’re not going to face what others have? Arm the shepherds. Failing that, hire guards you feel you can trust! If you don’t, you might not live to regret it. But Mama and Farrah may. Do you really want your last thoughts to be of them as Comanche captives?” He couldn’t help but be pleased to see the old man pale.
“I’m borrowing a horse,” Dylan said and stalked toward the door. Maybe he’d finally won one of their arguments.
An important one.
Chapter Five
Rhia settled with Farrah in Elizabeth Varga’s sitting room as they’d been doing since she and Farrah were in their teens. She glanced around. The architecture of the room, like the rest of the home, was Spanish, but the decor was unashamedly British. Farrah’s mother clung to her roots as did her husband. The mix might work for them but not for their children who were unashamedly Americans. Texans.
“I’m so sick of the arguments between Papa and Dylan,” Farrah lamented. Rhia focused on her friend. She sounded disconsolate and looked near to tears.
Elizabeth Varga shook her head and reached over to squeeze her daughter’s hand. “They love with great passion and disagree the same way. It is their nature. Dylan will never follow your father’s path and your father sees Dylan’s stand as a criticism of him. I only hope Alejandro comes to understand his son before it’s too late. If a rift grows too wide, a bridge can never be built to traverse it.”
Though Rhia agreed with Elizabeth’s wisdom, she grew distinctly uncomfortable with all the personal talk. She didn’t belong at Belleza. Don Alejandro didn’t even want her there and never had. She’d heard him protest her arrival somewhere in the distance. She’d always known he objected to her but she ignored his insults because Farrah needed their friendship as much as Rhia did.
She wasn’t letting him chase her away now any more than she ever had, she assured herself. But she couldn’t stay there. She had problems to solve. A lot of problems. It had nothing to do with bruised feelings.
It didn’t.
Angus needed burying. Poor Angus. He’d died as he’d lived. Alone among his sheep. Her father hadn’t been the first to have a man on his payroll who preferred to remain anonymous but it was so very sad that she didn’t have more than his Christian name to put on his marker.
Hearing of his death had been a shock. She’d always hoped to reach him. To hear his reasons for being so secretive. Now that would never happen. She would mourn the emptiness that had existed between them. Lost opportunities to love were always the saddest.
“I have to get back to Adara. Raul and Consuela left, which means the place is deserted,” she said when she realized the two women had fallen silent and were staring at her.
“You can’t go back there alone,” Farrah insisted.
“Of course I can. I can’t let the place and the remainder of the flock go unwatched. And I have to find out about Scout. I can’t believe I forgot to look for him. Dylan would have told me if he’d found him dead, wouldn’t he?”
“Of course he would,” Elizabeth said and squeezed her hand. “And you’ll go nowhere tonight, young lady. Especially not to look for a dog.”
Scout might only be a dog to most folks but he was her only family. If she’d been at Adara instead of that darn dance, he’d have been safe at her side in the cave. She should have looked for him earlier but the wanton destruction of her parents’ dream had stunned her. She’d gone numb all the way to her core, unable to break through what felt like a wall. It had been as if someone had locked her inside her head. It was still nearly as frightening as the all-encompassing effect the raid would have on her life.
Now all her anger, fear of the future and desperation about Scout—emotions she should have felt earlier—came rushing to the fore. This time Rhia sat straighter, determined to fight back. She rose. “The don doesn’t want me here. I have to leave.”
“Do you think I let that man rule me?” Farrah’s mother said, conviction in her tone. “This is my home as well as his. I want you here. He’ll welcome you to our breakfast table in the morning or he’ll sleep in his study for a week. On his very short settee!”
Hardly noticing Farrah’s chuckle, Rhia protested, “But Adara—”
Elizabeth Varga took her hand. “Let Dylan handle Adara tonight. I’ll make sure he plans to go back and that at least one of our men goes along to see to your flock.” She gave Rhia’s hand a little squeeze. “Think. You cannot go there alone with my son for propriety’s sake. It’s bad enough he took you to town with him to inform the sheriff. And Farrah may not travel along as a chaperone. It’s too dangerous and I won’t have you all at risk. These Ghost Warriors could be watching.”
They could be. All right, she would stay. Rhia sat down with a sigh and got a pat on the shoulder as a reward. It actually felt good to be pampered. It was the first time in years she had been. Rhia took an instant to savor the moment. Foggily she recalled Dylan caring for her earlier. Had he really called her querida? Or had it been hopeful, desperate thinking on her part?
“Farrah, find your brother,” she heard Elizabeth say, “and remind him Scout is missing.”
But at that moment a triumphant bark echoed through the house. Popping to her feet, Rhia smiled. “Scout.” Toenails rapidly clicked up the stairs and along the hall toward her. In seconds she was on her knees, wrapping her arms around the exuberant dog. “You’re all right! They didn’t hurt you or take you.” She took his head in her hands and looked into his golden eyes. “I was so worried.”
She heard a masculine chuckle as Scout licked her face and neck. Dylan stood in the doorway, a slight smile curving his beautifully sculpted lips. “I see he found you. I’m sorry I didn’t think to look for him earlier. He must have followed us all the way to town and then here. I’m heading back to Adara. The don is lending me two men to help out. But he won’t have a dog in his hacienda. Suppose I take Scout along with me?”
“You can take us both.”
“No, he won’t,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve told you why. Go on with you, Dylan. And, son, good for you for storming in when you arrived. Did you manage to fix anything between you and your father?”
Dylan’s lips thinned as he shook his head. “Let’s go, Scout.”
Rhia signaled Scout to go with Dylan. Scout protested with a high-pitched whine and a sloppy tongue lick on her cheek. She shook her head. “Go on, buddy. Go with Dylan.” With his head down and a last wistful look over his furry shoulder, Scout followed Dylan close on his heels.
* * *
The next morning finally dawned with light creeping across the ceiling. Rhia had been staring at it for hours. If she’d slept at all, it had been in tiny snatches. Dylan’s mother had meant well but Rhia’s thoughts had bounced from problems to losses to Dylan and back to problems, losses and Dylan throughout the night.
Exhausted, she admitted to herself she would probably sell Adara if not for the deathbed promise she’d made to her father. Having sworn to make his dream of success come to fruition, she had no choice but to plod ahead. Which meant she would now have a lot of unexpected expenses to deal with just to make the house habitable again.
Joshua Wheaton was a fair banker and would no doubt let her take out a mortgage on the free and clear property but that didn’t sit well. One more setback like this one and she could lose it all if a
bank held title and she found herself unable to make the payments.
To avoid that, she’d have to use credit at businesses around town to replace some of what had been destroyed. If she owed a little here and there and couldn’t pay it back right away, she wouldn’t lose Adara.
Rhia pushed herself out of bed. Her body felt leaden as she put on the dress she’d worn to the social, having no idea where her usual clothes were at that moment. She went down to eat at the table in the courtyard where the family took many of their meals. The don made his usual bid to buy Adara for much less than it was worth. Even though exhausted with the day barely begun, Rhia needed to stand on her own feet. Having lost her appetite, she asked to borrow a wagon so she could go into town to try to hire a shepherd. The don lent her an old wagon and she left for town.
During the ride, she tried to steel herself for the inevitable. Unless she found and hired a man of Angus’s advanced age, there was bound to be talk. With the help of the Ghost Warriors, she may have traded invisibility for notoriety in one short night. Never in her life had she so regretted a decision as she did buying the blue dress and going to the social.
Her emotions felt like a fish just pulled from a stream, flopping back and forth, leaving her unable to decide how or what she felt. She tied up the wagon at the town square, blinking away useless tears. Used to invisibility, she couldn’t help notice the attention she drew as she walked along the pathway.
Straightening her shoulders, Rhia moved across the square to the posting board. She tacked up her notice for a shepherd, distressed that no one had posted as a job seeker.
She decided to walk over to Abby’s General Store and leave the ancient, badly sprung wagon at the square. Once again she noticed folks watching her. But then she heard two women talking and could have sworn they’d used her name before realizing she was behind them. One of them glanced back and, looking a little shamefaced, grabbed her friend and pulled her to the side. But then, as if some silent communication went between the two, they put their noses in the air and stepped back even farther, holding their dresses aside lest their hems brush Rhia’s as she passed. Perplexed, she walked on.
Between the square and the bank, three different men who’d partnered her the night before stopped her, voicing varying degrees of concern for her welfare and reputation. Others stopped her, too. The topics ranged from invitations for meals at the hotel to outright insulting proposals of
marriage without even the meal. All the men had two things in common—they all had plans for Adara that were contrary to hers and they mentioned they were all willing to overlook her having been seen alone with Dylan in town the night before. To a man, they assured they didn’t think anything untoward had happened but it felt to Rhia as if they were trying to push her down the aisle by offering to rescue her from shame. She turned them all down, of course. And explained to each one in the most reasonable tone she could muster that Adara had been raided and that she’d needed Dylan’s help to summon the sheriff and his gun in case the raiders were still around.
Not only was it all infuriating, but the haunting fact was that the only man she was interested in walking down an aisle toward was Dylan. And he persisted in seeing her as a sister, no matter that he’d professed to want to get to know her better and had later called her querida.
“Miss Oliver,” George Bentley called as he rushed toward her from the side door of the bank. In seconds he’d blocked her way on the boardwalk. “You simply must have tea with Mother and me. She has a reputation for strict adherence to propriety. It would make my day and go a long way to taming these preposterous rumors.”
She frowned. They must all know about the raid and about Angus’s murder. None of them knew she and Angus hadn’t been close. That she wouldn’t be deeply grief-stricken by his death. How could they be so thoughtless? She stepped to the side.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bentley,” she said. “This isn’t a good time.” As she tried to pass him, he took hold of her arm.
“Because of your losses? I understand. Any rancher would be upset at your business setbacks but your reputation is more important.”
“Business setbacks? More important?” She gave him a long hard look. “A man died, Mr. Bentley. Raul and Consuela could easily have been killed, as well. I lost nearly half my stock, not to mention that most if not all of the mementoes I had from my parents are damaged if not utterly destroyed. I’d advise you to let go of my arm before I’m tempted to push you into that horse trough behind you.”
He let go with an affronted huff and Rhia walked on. She was about to pass the bank’s front doors when Lucien Avery stepped onto the boardwalk. Avery was a wealthy rancher with a large spread out near her place. If she wasn’t mistaken he’d danced with her the night before, too. “Good day, Miss Oliver. I just heard about your terrible misfortune. I wanted to extend my deepest sympathy for your losses.”
Finally a man who isn’t shockingly callous. “Thank you, sir.”
“Have you given much thought to your future in town with all this talk? I imagine you’ll want to move on. After all, Don Alejandro will never allow his son to marry so far beneath his station even if the two of them aren’t on the best of terms. I’ll be happy to purchase your property to facilitate your departure.”
Rhia fisted her hands. “I’m not interested in—”
“Now, now. Don’t be too hasty,” he cajoled. “You haven’t heard my offer. I’ll give you ten percent over the highest offer you get from anyone else.”
“You’ll have to look elsewhere for more water for your cattle, Mr. Avery. My parents are buried on that land. Adara isn’t for sale. And I don’t give a hoot in hell what the don thinks of me. Never have. Never will. Excuse me.”
He stepped in front of her as Mr. Bentley had. “If your reputation doesn’t concern you, you should at least think about how lucky you were not to be a casualty last night. You could be as dead as your shepherd is right now. This is a dangerous time for a young woman alone.”
She stared at him. Concern? Or threat? She couldn’t tell so she forced a smile. “I’m tougher than I look,” she told him and this time he stepped aside.
By the time she’d reached the sanctuary of Abby’s store, Rhia had sworn off men entirely and off the women of the town as potential friends, too. Tierra del Verde had changed more than she’d thought.
Chapter Six
Hell-bent-for-leather, Dylan rode into town with his sister. An hour earlier, Farrah had torn onto Adara shouting as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. Rhia had left for town unescorted. What she thought she’d accomplish there was anyone’s guess.
Since he wasn’t happy that Farrah was out riding around alone, either, he’d let her ride along rather than take the time to take her home as he had the night before.
They reined in their mounts and jumped to the ground next to Belleza’s old supply wagon where it stood tied to the hitching post near the town square. But Rhia was nowhere to be seen.
Mr. Johnson hailed them. He was the town’s undertaker and barber and the worst gossip around. He said he’d seen Rhia tack something up in the square. Dylan went to look and found her advertisement for a shepherd. When Dylan got back to Farrah, Johnson was telling her that quite a few men had stopped Rhia to talk and she’d seemed upset by whatever they’d said.
After that Dylan walked his gelding, Rory, along the street on one side, checking in shops, looking down alleys. Farrah did the same thing on the other side.
Joshua Wheaton stepped out of the bank and said something to Farrah, then walked across the street toward Dylan. His sister followed in Josh’s wake.
“Can I assume you thundered into town looking for Miss Oliver?” he asked.
“She rode in from Belleza alone,” Dylan explained. “Did you see her?”
Josh nodded. “I saw Lucien Avery stop her just outside the ban
k. She seemed upset by something he said then she hurried over to my wife’s store.”
“When Papa offered to buy her out at breakfast she got really upset. Maybe Mr. Avery offered, too,” Farrah ventured.
Dylan frowned. Dammit. What was wrong with their father? Had he no compassion at all?
Josh frowned, too. He also looked thoughtful. “I was going over to Abby’s store, to make sure everything is all right,” he said, “but Miss Oliver may need a friend.”
“I’d better go check on her,” his sister said. “Don’t take too long to calm down, brother mine. She isn’t likely to stay put for long and you wanted to keep her away from Adara.” Farrah mounted and wheeled her mare off toward the general store.
Dylan narrowed his eyes in thought. “I’d love to know what Avery said to upset her,” he muttered.
Wheaton raised an eyebrow. “I’d guess your sister is right. He probably offered to buy her out. Or he could have mentioned the gossip that’s circulating. Maybe both.”
Dylan tethered his mount to the hitching rail and looked at Josh. “What gossip?” he asked.
“Someone saw her in town last night with you. And the news spread like a wildfire. I had to go over to the saloon to talk to Walther about his mortgage on the Garter. Even the men in there were talking about her. And not in a good way.”
“Dammit. For crying out loud. Was I supposed to leave her alone out there to contend with the dead?” Dylan gritted his teeth. Why hadn’t he taken the time to leave her with his family before he headed into town? He had to fix this. He turned toward Abby’s General Store and Josh fell into step beside him.
“I’d never dishonor Rhia in any way. People should learn not to say anything if they can’t say something good.”
Josh gave a sharp nodded. “I know. But she left the social with you and hours later, she came riding into town still in your company.”
“Came riding in after we discovered her place torn up and her shepherd dead. Pardon me all to hell if I wasn’t thinking about anything but getting Quinn and Kane out there and not leaving her there alone.”
Weddings Under a Western Sky: The Hand-Me-Down BrideThe Bride Wore BritchesSomething Borrowed, Something True Page 11
