“MacLaren.” The one word hissed from him. The hatred in Dougal’s voice could be heard by all those within earshot, including Colin.
Robena tightened her hold on his arm. “Do not cause a scene, Dougal.”
Shaking her off, he took several steps forward, halting two feet from Colin. As a boy, he’d been shorter than Dougal. The man who stood before him had grown to well over six feet with broad shoulders and, from what Dougal could tell, a strong back. Still, he’d not let MacLaren take Sarah from them.
“Hello, Mr. MacGregor.” Colin extended his hand, hoping Dougal would take it without causing embarrassment to Sarah. For himself, he didn’t care. In fact, he’d be more than happy to set Dougal straight with words or fists. It didn’t matter which.
Ignoring Colin’s gesture, he focused his attention on Sarah. “You’ll come home with us now, Sarah.”
Moving closer to Colin, feeling his arm wrap around her, she straightened.
“Nae, Da. I will go nowhere that doesn’t include Colin.” The strength in her voice surprised even Sarah. Her confidence building, she took a step forward, never leaving Colin’s protective embrace. “As you can see, he’s come for me, and I’ll be leaving for California as soon as possible.”
The color in Dougal’s face changed from blotchy pink to red, and the arteries in his neck bulged at Sarah’s announcement. Robena did her best to hold him back, but he shoved her aside. A collective gasp came from the onlookers. If another man hadn’t steadied her, she’d have fallen to the ground.
“Da, stop it—”
“Stand aside, child. This is between MacLaren and me.”
Colin moved her behind him, glancing at Bessie, nodding for her to take Sarah aside, away from what might happen between him and Dougal. Colin knew if her father hurt Sarah in any way, he’d kill him.
“I’ll not be fighting with you today, Mr. MacGregor. Not at church, and not in front of Sarah.” He held his ground, ready for whatever the man decided.
Dougal pointed a finger at him, his rage barely contained. “You’re the reason Sarah turned her back on us. If you’d left her alone, we’d never have come to this. She’ll never marry a MacLaren.” He shifted his gaze to Sarah, who now stood between Bessie and the reverend. “If you leave, know this. You will no longer be a child of mine. You’ll be cut off from your family—dead to us.”
Colin didn’t turn to see Sarah’s response. He knew the pain he’d find on her face. It took all his strength to hold back on the immediate impulse to grab Dougal by his collar and slam a fist into his hostile face. At the same time, a wave of pity passed through him, knowing the man might be throwing away much more than his oldest daughter. Decisions such as these had a way to haunt families for generations, and he had no doubt the MacGregors would feel the pain of his actions for a long time to come.
“Nae, Da. You cannot do this.” Until now, Geneen had stayed back, not wanting to interfere. She had no intention of losing her sister to her father’s rage. “She’s your oldest daughter. How can you even consider this?”
Rounding, Dougal focused his rising anger on Geneen. “Back in the buggy. Now. I will not have you interfering.”
Stepping forward, she moved around him in measured steps until she stood near Sarah. “I will not return to the buggy and will not watch as you tear our family apart. If you disown Sarah, I will leave with her.”
Although his face remained impassive, Colin groaned inwardly. The entire situation had deteriorated to where both Sarah and Geneen might be tossed out of the MacGregor clan. The MacLarens would welcome both, but nothing about it gave him peace. Staring at Dougal, he waited for the response he dreaded.
“Dougal, you cannot let this happen.” Robena’s shrill plea did nothing to dissuade her husband. Digging her fingers into his arm, she tried to turn him toward her. As before, he pushed her aside.
“So be it. If you leave with MacLaren and Sarah, neither of you will ever be welcome again.”
“Please, don’t force us to make a choice, Da. Think of what you’re doing.” Sarah’s voice shook, her eyes pleading with her father to reconsider.
“Dougal, my friend, go home. Think through what you’re asking.” Reverend Olford stepped between Colin and Dougal. “I know this is hard for you, but old feuds have no place in your new home. They’re best left in Scotland where they belong.”
Unwilling to continue with the townsfolk standing around, Dougal stepped away. For the first time, he noticed the wide-eyed, shocked, or pitying faces of his neighbors. He didn’t know with whom their sympathies lay, though.
“I’ll leave, Reverend, but know that my mind is set. If Sarah and Geneen do not return with me now, they will no longer be accepted into my home.” Taking one more look at his daughters, he whirled away. His shoulders slumped as he made his way through the crowd to his buggy, where his youngest daughter, Isla, waited, tears streaming down her face. Ignoring her, he called for his wife. “Robena, we are leaving.”
Colin could see the indecision on her face. He couldn’t imagine the pain she felt at leaving her daughters behind. Knowing Robena had little choice, he stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“You will always be welcome in our home, Mrs. MacGregor, as will your husband…if he ever forgets his hatred.”
“Thank you,” she choked out. Giving Sarah and Geneen long hugs, she kept the tears away until she took one last look at each. “You’ll be getting your clothes and whatever else you want before you leave. Your Da cannot keep me from doing that for you.” Cringing at the sound of Dougal’s second order to return to the buggy, she dashed away, swiping at the dampness on her cheeks.
“Ach, that did not turn out as I’d hoped.” Geneen took Sarah’s hand in hers. “It appears, Mr. MacLaren, you have another person joining you on your trip.”
Nodding, he took Sarah in his arms. “Are you all right, lass?”
Burying her face in his chest, she held Colin to her, hoping to absorb whatever strength she could. Waiting until her head cleared, she pulled away.
“Aye. I will be all right.”
Tilting her chin up with his finger, he studied her face. “Is it still your intention to go home with me?” Colin needed to hear her agreement once more. What Dougal had said shook them all, no one more than Sarah.
“Aye. I’ll not change my mind. Da will have to change his.”
“Aye, Sarah. Da needs time, and Ma won’t let him rest until he reconsiders. We’ve the unpleasant fate of having a stubborn man for a father.”
Sarah smiled through her tears. Geneen always could make the worst situations seem bearable.
“Aye, Geneen. You’re right. If he doesn’t, we’ll both start new lives in California. Right, Colin?”
“Aye, love, you will.”
Bessie walked up to them. “I will not take any arguments. I’ve a roast cooking and two pies. You will all have supper with the reverend and myself, and that includes your cousins, Mr. MacLaren.”
Colin’s mouth twisted into a grin. She reminded him of their own reverend’s wife at home, who had a heart of gold and a robust constitution. People seldom argued with her. He guessed the same was true of Bessie Olford.
“We’d be pleased to have supper with you. I’ll round up my cousins and bring everyone back to your house. Now, I believe Sarah and Geneen might require some time alone.”
Nodding, she patted each girl on the back. “We’ll see you when you’ve rested.”
Escorting Sarah and Geneen back to her house, he couldn’t get his mind off Dougal. The anger he showed was beyond reason, bordering on madness. Worse, he couldn’t shove away the feeling deep in his gut that this wasn’t over. The man may have disowned his daughters, but he hadn’t given up on his war against the MacLarens.
“When will I see you again, Wes?” Rhoda Bell sat up, pulling the covers up to below her neck.
Grabbing his trousers from the floor, he slid them on before turning to look at his stepmother.
“You’ll
see me when I need you.”
His curt answer didn’t seem to bother her. She’d become used to his rude, often biting replies to her questions.
“Tomorrow night?”
“Hell, no. Pop will be back. I may be reckless, but I’m not suicidal.”
Tossing off the covers, Rhoda slid into her wrapper, letting it hang open. She knew he found her attractive, and if she’d waited, perhaps she’d have snagged him rather than his father. Although Fergus wasn’t bad in bed, he would never best his son. Wes made being married to his father bearable.
Buttoning his shirt, she stilled his hands, letting hers flatten on his hard chest. “You know, I like it when he’s at home and you’re in my bed. It’s more…exciting.” She continued to play with his crisp chest hair, glancing at him with a sultry expression. “Since I won’t see you for a while, why not one more time before you leave.”
Wes didn’t want to stay, yet his body had already started to respond. Gritting his teeth as her hand moved to his stomach, then lower, he cursed. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pushed her onto the bed, dragging up her clothes, then loosening his own.
“This what you want?” he ground out.
“Oh, yes. Just what I want.”
Not worried about her pleasure, he made it quick, then shoved away, continuing to dress. Finishing, he grabbed the doorknob, then turned around.
“We can’t keep doing this, Rhoda. Tonight ends it. No more.”
If it wasn’t for the look on his face, she would have laughed. From the first night, it had always been up to him. Although she’d been more than willing, Wes was the one who pursued it, coming to her the first night his father left the ranch—two weeks after the wedding. He’d been coming to her ever since.
“If that’s what you want, Wes.” With casual grace, she rolled off the bed, letting her wrapper fall into place, knowing how this always affected him. “I’ll see you at the supper table.”
He cursed at her knowing smile, then slammed the door closed. Storming through the house, Wes walked out the back door on his way to the foreman’s place where he lived. His father had fired the previous foreman weeks before, believing the long-time hired hand to be incompetent. Wes picked up the extra work, figuring it had been his father’s plan all along. He liked hard work, enjoyed playing cards with the men, and didn’t wither, as others had, at his father’s harsh rule. As long as you did as he asked, Fergus would leave you alone. Defy him and the consequences would be severe.
Falling onto his bed, he settled an arm over his face and thought about tonight. He had to stop his raging desire for Rhoda. At first, their rendezvous were exciting and quite fulfilling. Now he couldn’t stay away, as if she’d cast a witch’s spell. He had to break her hold over him.
At twenty-five, there had only been one other woman who attracted him. One who might be able to fulfill his needs and make him forget Rhoda. That’s why he’d pursued and agreed to marry Sarah. Tomorrow, he’d speak with MacGregor, figure out a way to get her to spurn MacLaren. He couldn’t put it off any longer.
“I’ve got to send a message to Da, then I’ll meet you.” Colin finished buckling his gun belt, then shoved his hat down on his head. Several days had passed since meeting the Olfords. Even though it killed him, he slept alone each night, not wanting to risk anyone seeing him leave Sarah’s house or let Geneen know the extent of their relationship. Instead, they’d ride out of town after school let out each day, find a quiet place, and make love.
The first time, they disappeared until early evening. Sarah guided him to a beautiful glen covered in dense, green growth and trees with wide canopies. Taking his hand, they walked along a nearby river, stopping at the edge of a ravine, the sound of water catching his attention. Pushing through thick brush, they came upon the falls. Water plummeted over the edge and into a deep pool below. Tightening his grip on her hand, he’d led her down the path, finding a wide expanse of flat ground along the pool’s edge. Pulling her to him, he captured her mouth with his, heat pulsing through both of them within seconds. Taking their time, they removed each other’s clothing, making love with every touch and each kiss until both were spent. They’d returned to the same spot each day since.
“We’ll save you a place at the table.” Quinn followed Brodie to a nearby saloon. They’d spent considerable time there since Colin found Sarah. Stuck didn’t begin to explain how Quinn felt at their inability to start for home. He knew she’d asked the town leaders to find a replacement. All they could do now was wait.
Colin nodded, even though he had no desire to spend another evening drinking and playing cards. He wanted to be with Sarah, not with his two rowdy cousins, no matter how much he loved them.
Bessie had encouraged them to marry while in River City, letting Reverend Olford perform the rights. Even though it appealed to them, Colin wanted his family around when he wed Sarah. It no longer mattered to her where they married. Her father disowning her and Geneen had changed her feelings on having family present. Geneen would be there, and that’s all that mattered to Sarah.
“Here you are.” Colin handed the message he’d scribbled to the telegraph clerk, dropping coins on the counter.
“MacLaren, huh? I believe there’s a message waiting for you.” Searching a file, he pulled out the telegram. “This came a few days ago.”
Reading it quickly, smiling at the brief query from his father as to their safety, Colin made a slight change to his original message. “You’ll find me at the hotel if you get a response.”
Stepping into the chilled evening air, he pulled out his pocket watch, knowing Sarah and Geneen would be at the Olford’s for supper. If they’d accept, Bessie would have them all over every night.
The week had dragged by, with few men in the saloon most nights. Tonight, every chair was taken, except for one next to Quinn.
“Sit down, laddie. I’ve a run of bad luck. Maybe you’ll help me turn it around.” Quinn tossed back his whiskey, smiling at the barmaid who stopped next to him. “A whiskey for my friends and another for me.”
After Colin arrived, Quinn’s luck did improve, as did Brodie’s mood. At twenty-two, the same age as Quinn, Brodie had always been more brooding and wary of strangers than either of his cousins. Tonight, he drank his whiskey at a slow pace, even when two untouched drinks sat before him.
“The whiskey not to your liking?” Colin asked, also sipping his drink, in no mood to let alcohol get the better of him. Throughout the evening, Colin had watched two men across from him, each taking unexpected interest in him, Quinn, and Brodie. Their continued perusal irritated him, yet he had no reason to expect trouble from the strangers.
“I’m out.” Brodie set down his cards, glancing around the saloon, trying to determine what bothered him. Leaning over, he kept his voice low. “I’ve a gnawing in my gut.”
The comment produced a quick response from Colin, who straightened. Since they’d been children, Brodie had an uncanny ability to foretell danger. Whenever his eyes looked cold and restless, his kin had learned to be watchful. Most of the family had learned to heed his warnings. The fact Colin felt unease at the same time as Brodie made him all the more on edge.
“I need some air.” Colin finished his drink and started outside, Brodie close behind. Putting the noise of the saloon behind them, they crossed the street. “What is it?”
Brodie turned his head, looking for the movement he expected. “We’re being watched. I don’t know who, how many, or what they want. All I know is there are eyes on us, Colin.”
He’d no more than finished his sentence when gunshots came from the saloon.
“Quinn,” Brodie muttered before dashing across the street, his chest tightening. Shoving through the doors, his gaze landed on Quinn, prone on the floor, blood pooling around him.
Chapter Ten
“Get the doctor.” Colin’s shout moved people to action. Grabbing one of the men who’d been at their table, he dragged him forward. “Who did this?” The man stammered b
efore Colin yanked him closer. “Who. Did. This?”
His voice shook as he pointed to a door behind the bar. “They ran out that way.” He swallowed a lump of fear. “I didn’t recognize either of them.”
Colin pushed the man away, turning around. “Does anyone know who shot Quinn? I need a name.”
The crowd moved away as men shook their heads or stared at the ground.
“I’ve seen them in here before. They were asking about work, but I don’t know if they found jobs.” The bartender set his unfired shotgun on the bar as the door swung open and the doctor hurried toward Quinn. Kneeling, he took a quick look, shaking his head.
“It’s bad. We need to get him to my office.”
“You and you,” Colin pointed to a couple men. “Help us put him on this table.” He turned toward Brodie. “We’ll carry him to the doc’s place on the table.”
“Someone get the sheriff,” one of the men they’d played cards with yelled.
“He and most of his deputies are gone, trailing some bank robbers. You may be able to find someone at the jail.” The bartender watched as one of the men took off to find a deputy, then walked around the bar, helping them lift the table and carry it down the street.
“Careful, now,” the doctor warned. Too wide to make it through the clinic door, they set the table down outside, lifted Quinn, and carried him the rest of the way. “Put him here.” He indicated a bed in the back, then shooed everyone away, including Colin and Brodie, who took a few steps away and crossed their arms.
“We won’t get in your way, Doc,” Colin answered the look of frustration on the doctor’s face.
“Either of you have any medical training?” He started removing Quinn’s clothes, needing to get started before he lost any more blood.
“We’ve tended men who’ve been injured at our ranch. Nothing like this, though.” Colin planted his feet shoulder width apart, having no intention of leaving Quinn with a doctor he knew nothing about. Watching every move, he winced at the sight of two bullet holes—one in his left shoulder, one a little lower.
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