by Carol Finch
Preston took another sip of punch, then looked down his nose at Boston. “I was hoping we could be friends, but if you prefer to consort with the brother of a card-dealing prostitute, then so be it, my dear Adrianna.”
He turned an about-face, then swayed slightly to regain his balance. He downed both drinks, then wobbled off to refill his glasses.
“Are you all right, Cahill?” Adrianna asked as she peered into his murderous expression. Clearly, he’d had no idea where his sister had settled. The news, especially delivered from a cad of the highest caliber, came as a devastating blow.
“Whether that arrogant blowhard is telling the truth or not, he’ll spread the vicious scandal about Leanna and the possibility of a child all over town. It’s my fault that she’s out in the world, struggling to survive.”
He scowled sourly. “The thought of Leanna falling into ruin eats me up inside. I wonder if Bowie knows. And Chance? Is he in some kind of trouble, too? Damn it! It’s my job to protect the younger ones and I sent them away in anger.”
“You are not responsible for Leanna or Chance,” Boston assured him firmly.
He looked down at her and snorted. “I’m not? Then why do I feel as if I cast my sister to the wolves?”
“Because you’re her big brother and you believe it’s your born duty, just like you believe it’s your obligation to carry on your father’s dreams to expand the 4C.”
Although he glowered at her, his silver-gray eyes flaring with anger, she stepped forward, not away. “I know how your sister feels. At least I think I do,” she insisted. “She wants to be her own person, not the extension of a family legacy.
“I wanted my father to appreciate me for who I am inside, but he wanted me to live a fairy-tale life and become the image of my mother. I was to be pampered by some wealthy man who could manage my fortune so I wouldn’t have to fret over business. But you know perfectly well that’s not who I am, Cahill, even if my father couldn’t see it. Furthermore, whatever Leanna is doing with her life, I bet she prefers to make her own choices and face the consequences.”
Quin blew out an agitated breath, then nodded reluctantly. “You independent females drive men crazy.”
“Why? Because we envy what men have? Choices?” she challenged. “Because we want to control our destiny? To vote and to have a say in laws that affect us as much as men?”
“This is no time for one of your barnstorming speeches,” he muttered darkly.
“I’m trying to tell you how your sister likely feels,” she insisted. “You need to see the world from her point of view, from my point of view. Try trading places with me for a week. See how you react to being stifled and treated like a second-class citizen. See how you react to being bossed around by men who think it is their God-given right to do so.”
Quin wheeled around, intent on looking up Preston and pounding him into the ground. But Adrianna would have none of that. She grabbed his arm and blocked his path.
“I’ve met his type before. He delights in tormenting others for his own amusement. It would take a dozen Prestons to make one of you, Cahill. Don’t lower yourself to his despicable level. Especially not here. Not tonight.”
“Fine, but I need a drink. The punch isn’t strong enough to numb the feeling that I’ve failed my sister, just as my two brothers have failed her. Damn them! They should’ve told me where she was. She should’ve sent word to me!” he brooded.
Adrianna suspected Quin’s sister had rejected Preston when she realized what a rascal he was. This was, no doubt, Preston’s way of retaliating. Unfortunately, Quin had to deal with the scandalous gossip about his sister and the rumor about how he was attempting to charm Adrianna into selling out to him. Not to mention that malarkey about the supposed Cahill Curse being deserved punishment for his family’s prosperity.
She blew out an exasperated sigh while she watched Quin stalk off, looking like a fire-breathing dragon in elegant formal attire. She’d like to shoot that Preston character full of buckshot for blurting out those comments that cut Quin to the core. Wherever Leanna Cahill was, her reputation was being dragged through the mud tonight, compliments of Preston Van Slyck. The offensive, drunken bastard.
“Do not let that scoundrel ruin Rosa’s party. Don’t you ruin this celebration,” Adrianna chanted repeatedly as she strode across Town Square. She was itching to blow that man to smithereens for spreading gossip and upsetting Quin to the extreme. “Blast it all, who is going to stop me from giving that spiteful bastard the shooting he so richly deserves?”
Chapter Seven
Quin stalked across the tracks to chug a few stiff drinks and cool off at Hell’s Corner Saloon. Unfortunately, the place had been locked up tight. He glanced south to see Sid Meeker ambling toward him.
“Surprised to see you here so quickly. I wasn’t expecting the crowd to leave the party for another hour,” Sid commented as he opened the door for Quin.
“I need a drink…or ten,” Quin muttered.
He doubted it was possible to drown his troubles and frustrations in a bottle but, at the very least, he wanted to numb his senses to the torment eating him alive. His little sister had a child and no husband? She was a saloon girl or card dealer—or both? Worse, Preston Van Slyck’s implication that she had turned to prostitution to support herself was killing Quin bit by agonizing bit.
Muffling a salty oath, Quin threw back his head and gulped the whiskey. He gestured for Sid to pour another drink…and then another.
Thunder rumbled overhead, all too symbolic of the storm of torment raging inside him. He told himself that his family had abandoned him and the ranch, not the other way around. But the niggling voice inside him whispered that he had forced his siblings into desperate situations. He should head to Deadwood and see for himself whether what Preston said was true. And maybe he would do that after the spring trail drive to Dodge City. By then, he’d have this upheaval of emotion under control. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be tempted to gun down the irresponsible father of Leanna’s child who had left her to manage all alone. Damn him to hell and back!
“A fine way for a boy to grow up,” he grumbled sourly. “But he’s a Cahill. The first of his generation. God forbid he faces the same problems with his siblings and cousins.”
The grim thought prompted Quin to guzzle another drink.
“I think you’ve had enough, Quin.” Sid removed the bottle and shot glass from his reach.
Quin nodded in agreement, then pushed away from the bar. “I suppose you heard the vicious gossip tonight.”
Sid bobbed his bald head and smiled sympathetically. “I heard. Maybe there’s more to that Cahill Curse—”
Quin exploded in a growl and puffed up like a spitting cobra. “I expected better from you, Sid. We go back a long ways and I call you friend.”
Sid heaved a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. You financed this place so I could get a new start. I’ve been listening to too much saloon gossip instead of putting a stop to it. Count on me to quell some of the rumors, my friend.”
Quin nodded, then wheeled toward the door. He stalked onto the boardwalk and noted that a few torches and lamplights were still blazing on the square. Most of the rowdy crowd was walking toward the tracks to play billiards, monte or poker and to visit the harlots on the Wrong Side.
As for Quin, he was headed to 4C to down a few more drinks. Boston could give Elda a ride home tonight because he was the worst of all possible companions now.
Cursing Preston Van Slyck for spreading vicious rumors, Quin pulled himself into the buggy he’d driven to town to accommodate Elda’s desserts. He left the lights of town behind, then burst out with a string of obscenities when he stared northwest. Flames danced in the wind that had picked up in the approaching thunderstorm.
With a sense of urgency, he popped the reins over the horses’ rumps and sped off. If lightning had struck a tree on his property, he could expect another prairie fire to destroy the tall grass and endanger his cattle. H
e’d have to stop a stampede and beat out the fire with the skeleton crew of cowpunchers that was at the 4C. Most everyone who hadn’t drawn the short straw had ridden to town for the festivities.
The wind picked up another notch as Quin raced toward home in the darkness. He was reminded of the wagon accident that had killed his parents two years earlier so he tried to use caution, but time was of the essence. He still couldn’t precisely tell where the fire was. Distances were deceiving when it came to pinpointing smoke and flames.
“Of all the…!” Quin roared when he reached the 4C headquarters and realized the fire was raging at Boston’s house. Dear God! Had lightning set the fire that was spreading in the wind?
Quin raced the buggy to the bunkhouse to alert the ranch hands, but no one answered his call of alarm. Swearing foully, he guided the buggy toward the gate between his spread and Boston’s ranch. His heart twisted in his chest as lightning flickered above the dancing flames that lit up the night.
“What else can go wrong tonight?” Quin muttered as he glanced skyward. Hell, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He still hadn’t dealt with the frustration Preston had tossed at him and now he expected to face Boston’s angry accusations that he was responsible for the fire.
Adrianna was busy gathering leftover food when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She half turned to see Butler staring bleakly at her.
“We need to go. Now,” he said urgently.
“Why? I have to clean up the area.”
Butler clamped his hands on her shoulders, then turned her around to face northwest. She gasped in dismay when she saw the golden flames that sharply contrasted with the black clouds that had swallowed up the moon and stars.
“I don’t know whose place it is. Maybe ours or Fitzgerald’s just south, or the 4C to the east. But I’ll feel better when I know for sure,” Butler insisted.
Adrianna set aside the boxes, crates of food and supplies she had collected, then lifted her full skirts out of her way so she could dash off to summon Bea and Elda.
Like Butler, she wasn’t as familiar with the area and it was difficult to tell whose ranch was on fire. She didn’t know if the flames engulfed timberland, grassland or structures. Whatever the case, the sense of urgency streaked through her as she raced ahead of her employees to reach the carriage.
“What’s wrong?” Rosa called out behind her.
“Fire!” Adrianna threw over her shoulder as she grabbed the reins.
“Sweet mercy! In this fierce gale? That could be disastrous. Do you know where it is for sure?”
“That’s what we plan to find out!”
“Lucas and I will be right behind you,” Rosa promised as she lurched around to locate Lucas and Dog.
Heart pounding against her ribs, Adrianna pulled herself into the carriage, then helped Butler, Elda and Bea clamber to their seats. All three were gasping for breath when Adrianna slapped the horses on the rumps with the reins, demanding their fastest gaits.
“Slow down before you kill us all!” Elda yelped as she clamped one plump hand on her new hat and put a stranglehold on the metal armrest with the other.
“Want me to drive?” Butler asked as he grabbed hold of the seat to prevent being catapulted onto the street when Adrianna practically took the corner on two wheels.
“Just hold on for dear life,” she advised. “We need to find out whose place is on fire and what we can do to help.”
“I will be of no assistance whatsoever if I’m dead—” Bea’s voice dried up when Adrianna swerved to dodge a drunken cowboy who staggered from the boardwalk to the street.
Thunder rolled and everyone except Adrianna instinctively ducked. She was too intent on trying to follow the road in the darkness. She hadn’t lived in the area long enough to race off on a shortcut without plunging the carriage into a ravine or overturning it on a sharp curve.
“Lord! I think the fire is on our place!” Bea howled in dismay as they flew down the road with the wind and dust billowing around them.
Adrianna’s thudding heart plunged to her stomach as they passed the turnoff that led to 4C headquarters. She hadn’t wanted to wish ill on Cahill or her neighbors, Fitzgerald and Womack, but she couldn’t wish a fire on herself. Yet, there was no question now. Her home or barn—she couldn’t tell which—was in flames and her prize cattle might be in danger!
Blast it! She had hired workers to carefully pack her family heirloom furniture and transport it all the way from Boston to Texas. The pieces had only suffered a few scratches. Now they could be kindling in a fire. Not to mention the specially designed gowns that Rosa had labored over. And the financial ledgers could be ashes, she thought frantically. Good heavens, there could be nothing left to salvage!
“Will you look at that!” Butler yelped when he realized it was the house, not the barns or sheds, that was burning.
Adrianna raced over the hill to see flames leaping across the rafters of the new addition to her home. Silhouettes dashed hither and yon, splattering water to douse the fire. Without a care for her elegant gown, she drew the back hem between her legs to fashion makeshift breeches. Then she ripped a strip of fabric from her petticoats to serve as a belt. She had the dispirited feeling her improvised garment might be all she had left of her new wardrobe and her new life in Texas. Her world was going up in smoke!
Adrianna leaped to the ground, then raced off to fetch a bucket. Men were dashing about, splashing water on the existing wall of the house, trying to prevent the entire structure from catching fire.
“Boston!” Quin’s voice rose in the air, followed by another formidable rumble of thunder.
She spun around to see him, still in his formal attire, tossing a lasso over a smoldering rafter. He yanked—hard—before the rope caught flame. The charred lumber collapsed into a pile—away from the walls of the house. Adrianna rushed toward him, then skidded to a halt when glowing embers settled over both of them. For a moment, she thought her hair had caught on fire. That’s all she needed, a bonfire in the windblown coiffure atop her head.
“Hold on to this rope while I toss up another one,” Quin barked as he handed her the trailing end of the first lasso. He glanced at her quickly, his silver eyes reflecting the devastating flames. “I swear to you that I had nothing to do with this, Boston. I didn’t undermine your ranch. It’s likely a stroke of bad luck caused by lightning.”
As if to emphasize his point, lightning crackled nearby and thunder exploded overhead once again.
Adrianna flinched but then she gritted her teeth and dragged the smoldering lumber farther from the north wall of the house before the rope burned completely in two.
“Do you believe me, Boston?” Quin asked before he hurled the loop of the rope, snagging another piece of burning lumber. “I wouldn’t do this to you. I’d sooner burn down my own house. And why not? My family has no use for it. But you and your family made this house a home.”
Adrianna heard the torment in Quin’s deep baritone voice. The cruel tale Preston Van Slyck had spread around town had come as a bitter blow to Quin. He was holding himself personally responsible for his sister’s woes and he was angry with his two brothers for allowing it to happen. They should have contacted him so he could have helped…or at least been prepared for ugly gossip.
In addition, he believed Adrianna suspected him of starting this devastating fire that had destroyed the new addition that would become her private living quarters.
“I know you aren’t to blame,” she assured him as she grabbed hold of his rope to help him tow the peak of the smoldering rafters away from the existing house.
His broad shoulders slumped. “Thanks, Boston. Whatever it takes, my men and I will help make this right.”
“Confound it, what awful luck!”
Adrianna lurched around to see Rosa, Lucas and Dog racing toward them. Lucas was out of the carriage in a single bound to lend assistance to Quin. Rosa hopped to the ground while Dog remained on the seat, still wearing his sparkly bow tie
, staring at the dwindling flames.
“I’m so sorry,” Rosa commiserated as she hugged Adrianna close. “You can stay in my apartment. It will be a mite cramped with you, Bea, Butler and Elda, but we can set you up at Morning Glory Boardinghouse or at Château Royale Hotel tomorrow night. And don’t fret if your clothing is damaged. You can have anything of mine and whatever will fit that’s hanging on the store racks. Same goes for your employees.”
Adrianna’s breath hitched. “Thanks, Rosa.”
She cursed herself when tears filled her eyes. Most everything could be replaced, she reminded herself. Her adopted family was safe. Her dream might have gone up in smoke but she could rebuild….
Her thoughts scattered when rain poured down in torrents, soaking everyone in a matter of minutes. Adrianna stared heavenward and sent up a silent prayer for the divine assistance that doused the remaining flames.
When Quin and Lucas signaled that it was safe to enter the house, Adrianna hurried inside to light a lantern. The smell of smoke penetrated the area, but the furniture and drapes appeared to be intact.
Butler scuttled in behind her, then veered toward the safe in the office. “Addie K., fetch one of your hat-boxes,” he commanded hurriedly.
Frowning at the odd request, she bounded upstairs to grab a few essential garments and the hatbox. When she returned, Butler waited with a stack of papers and banknotes.
“It isn’t a safe, of course, but no one will know the money and financial ledgers are tucked in this box.”
Adrianna managed a smile. “Brilliant, Butler. If vandals show up, they won’t find anything important, thanks to you.”
Butler crammed the important documents and money in the box. “Take this and your belongings outside, then send in Bea to fetch her things,” he suggested. “Thankfully, Elda’s belongings are safe at 4C.”
Adrianna scampered outside to see Quin and Lucas frowning at the hatbox. “I haven’t had a chance to wear my new hat yet,” she said to the men and the cowboys who stared at her as if she was crazy for saving frivolous headgear.
