“Oh, shut up.”
Marian should have felt a little better, for winning the verbal round, at any rate. Amanda flounced off angry. Marian lay down to await the promised bath. And all she could think about was whether Amanda had overheard the introduction to Stuart Kinkaid.
If she did hear it, then she’d take Chad off the “employee” list and move him to the “due to inherit something big” list. And she would set out to charm him, lure him in, and tie up his emotions in a tight little knot that she’d never release. Not because she wanted him, but simply because she could. Because it thrilled her to no end to manipulate men like that. It was the one thing she did very well.
If that wasn’t enough for Marian to worry about, she found out almost immediately when she went downstairs later that the altercation with her sister hadn’t gone unnoticed, or rather, unheard. Her aunt was the first to ask her if she was all right. She might have thought she was referring to her overall condition after the trip, except she seemed too concerned. And then Chad discreetly asked the same thing, and looked just as worried.
By then she was so embarrassed, she was ready to bolt back upstairs and never come down again. But then Chad’s father came in from outside, looked her over from top to bottom, and said, “Well, I’ll be damned. So you won? Good for you, gal.”
He was making an assumption based on no visible bruises, she realized to her mortification. She’d never know where she got the nerve to reply, “No one won.”
“Well that’s too bad,” he grumbled, then added gruffly. “Next time win. Makes the bruises feel worth it.”
She laughed. Half-hysterically, but still, she laughed. And felt her embarrassment melt away with it.
Chapter 21
MARIAN WAS BEGINNING TO realize that the people in Texas might look at things differently than they did back East. The main reason for her earlier embarrassment was because back home even the servants would have scorned such unladylike behavior from two supposedly well-bred ladies. Their contemporaries would have been scandalized. Their father would have scolded her severely and coddled Amanda until she felt better. All of which kept both girls from airing their differences in public, which, sometimes, was a test of patience to the extreme.
But it was so different out here. In two of the towns they’d passed through, she’d seen men brawling in the streets. In one, a gunfight had just finished. But with so many thieves abounding in the area, it was no wonder decent folks succumbed to base instincts. If you had differences, you settled them with fists or guns.
Well, men did anyway. But apparently women could, too, without raising too many brows.
Marian gathered all of this as she listened to Chad and his father “catching up”—they hadn’t seen each other for several months. And Kathleen joined in their discussion of cattle rustlers, a small bank robbery that occurred only forty miles away, a gunfight between two of Stuart’s cowhands—both survived it, but got themselves fired for it—a horse thief who got himself posse-hanged before he could make it to trial.
She was fascinated that her aunt wasn’t the least bit shocked by such occurrences. But then Kathleen was a surprise in many ways.
She wasn’t as old as Marian had expected. At least, she didn’t look it. Her hair was as bright a red as it had ever been. She wore it in a simple, single braid. Her white blouse and plain brown skirt were without a single adornment. No jewelry, not even her old wedding ring to mark her a widow. But she had a wonderful smile. Who needed fancy lace and ruffles with a smile like that?
With her tanned skin and plain garb, she wasn’t the least bit fashionable, but she was a handsome woman just the same. Shapely, too, and in good health. Funny, frank, and relaxed because Amanda hadn’t made an appearance yet to stir up tensions, Kathleen was a pleasure to be around. Marian was relieved to find she liked her immensely already.
Surprisingly, tensions rose again without Amanda’s help when Spencer Evans arrived as promised to retrieve his borrowed carriage, and so late in the day that Kathleen was obliged to invite him for dinner as well as put him up for the night. She was fresh out of extra rooms, though, what with Stuart staying over one more night, and the girls and their maid staying in separate rooms.
“The bunkhouse will do me just fine, Red,” Spencer said, as he made himself comfortable on one of the sofas.
Marian took offense at his calling her aunt Red. Even when she heard Chad do the same thing later and realized it was Kathleen’s nickname, it made no difference. She disliked the debonair Spencer right off because it was so obvious that Chad didn’t like him.
Kathleen was a gracious hostess though, even if she didn’t know Spencer that well. Stuart treated him like an old friend, but then she was to find that Stuart treated everyone that way unless they gave him cause not to. Chad barely said a word to him and vice versa, which was probably a good thing. The tension between those two was palpable.
And while it usually pleased Marian to be ignored, as Spencer was doing to her, she found it rather insulting to be so completely ignored, as if he really didn’t see her there at all. Most men looked at her, even if their eyes never lingered, but Spencer made a point of avoiding looking in her direction even once.
Fortunately, Kathleen hadn’t tried to introduce them, after Spencer said right off that he’d met her niece yesterday. Niece, not nieces. But Kathleen would have assumed he was referring to the one who was present. While it was obvious to Marian that he’d meant the one he was anxiously waiting on to make an appearance.
Amanda was quite late in showing up, so late that Kathleen could postpone dinner no longer—the cook had sent her daughter Rita in three times with odd eye and head signals pointing toward the dining room. Flustered by then—she wasn’t used to having so much company, nor keeping them waiting when such appetizing aromas were floating through the house—Kathleen herded everyone into the dining room.
As expected, or at least, Marian knew to expect it, Amanda arrived as soon as everyone was seated. Grand appearances were her forte, after all, and she loved making people wait on her. In her mind, she felt she was worth the wait. Most men thought so, too, unfortunately, and those present were no exception.
It couldn’t be denied, though, that Amanda looked exceptionally beautiful. Her hair had been washed and artfully styled. There’d been plenty of time for Ella Mae to press one of her prettier dresses. And she’d slept most of the afternoon.
At any rate, she was all smiles when she announced, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, gentlemen. But you’ll understand that after such a harrowing journey, I required a little extra rest.”
Spencer and Chad both shot to their feet, stupid looks of bedazzlement on their faces. Even Stuart’s mouth dropped open a bit as he stared at the vision before him. Only Marian noticed how their aunt had been deliberately excluded from the greeting—well, Kathleen probably noticed, too.
Amanda then proceeded to hold court there in the dining room. She was at her charming best, which meant she had decided to enthrall every man present, including Chad’s father. She probably thought it would be amusing to have both father and son fighting over her.
She was in for a surprise though. Stuart might have been momentarily amazed by her beauty, but it didn’t take long to see that he was more interested in the food than he was in a chit young enough to be his daughter.
Marian was close enough to hear him whisper to Kathleen, “Would you be mad at me, Red, if I bribed your cook over to my house?”
“Damned right I would.”
He frowned, though it was obviously feigned. “Last night I figured I got lucky. But tonight, well, can’t deny it now, this is some of the best grub I’ve ever eaten. You sure you’d get mad?”
“You can’t go stealing a gal’s cook, especially when that gal can’t cook.”
He laughed at her admonishment. “Then I’ll just have to mosey on over this way more often, I guess. Hope you won’t mind the company.”
“Not at all. You’r
e welcome anytime.”
Marian noticed the blush about the time she realized her aunt was taken with Stuart. She couldn’t tell if he was aware of it or not. The signs were subtle, but they were there: her aunt’s blushes when nothing was said to warrant a blush, the covert looks when she thought no one would notice.
God, Marian hoped she wasn’t as obvious where Chad was concerned. She probably was, but because no one ever paid attention to her, no one other than Ella Mae was likely to find out. And she was blushing a lot herself, for absolutely no reason other than she’d found herself sitting next to Chad at the table.
Their knees bumped. Their elbows collided. Marian whispered apologies each time, even for those that weren’t her fault. He didn’t seem to hear though, as he was too busy listening to every word out of Amanda’s mouth. She stepped on his foot deliberately. Hard. He even missed that.
Dessert was being served when Chad said in an aside to her, “If I didn’t already know how lacking in coordination you are, I’d think I was under attack. Now what the hell are you blushing for? I was only teasing.”
Men didn’t tease her. She just wasn’t the sort anyone would feel comfortable teasing. And besides, she had been attacking him, because it was so obvious that he was going to make a fool of himself over Amanda.
She was saved from answering him because Amanda noticed his attention had strayed for a moment and typically addressed her next remark to him to get it back. Much to Spencer’s annoyance, since he’d been trying to hold her attention solely to himself. Amanda definitely had a conquest in him.
Spencer had been telling her about his saloon. Marian found the name of it odd enough to mention it to Kathleen, who was seated to her left.
“Did I hear him correctly? His business is actually called the Not Here Saloon?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t find that an odd name?”
“No more than some others. The more outlandish the better seems to be the thinking when it comes to naming things out here.”
“Now that you mention it,” Marian allowed, “I suppose I have seen a few signs that were even more odd on the journey here, so odd, I couldn’t imagine what sorts of businesses they actually were.”
Kathleen nodded. “In this case, it used to be the No Tea Here Saloon. Descriptive, though unusual in itself. I think old Evans just wanted to make sure his customers wouldn’t get confused about what sort of establishment they were in. But a letter or two wore off the sign over the years, the ‘E’ and the ‘A’ of Tea to be exact, and when a painter passed through town and was hired to do up a new sign, the fellow had one too many drinks himself before he got to painting, then left town before Mr. Evans got a look at the finished product. But he decided to go ahead and hang the new sign anyway, at least until he could find another painter.”
“Which he never did,” Marian concluded.
“Oh, more painters passed through town, one even set up shop and is still there. But by then, folks were used to Not Here. And as it happens, there’s even a tombstone in the cemetery that reads Andy died Not Here, but over there, or was it yonder? Who knows, except anyone who was also Not Here to notice.’ Be a shame to change the name after that was the general consensus.”
Marian smiled, “Yes, that would immortalize the name, wouldn’t it.”
“Not that anyone knew who Andy was,” Chad remarked from her other side. “He was just a sod buster passing through who died in the saloon right after the new sign went up. At the time, old Evans was getting a lot of ribbing over the sign, and our local tombstone carver thought he’d join in the fun with the cryptic inscription.”
Marian was back to blushing. He’d actually been listening to her conversation rather than Amanda’s? Actually, it wasn’t that surprising once she thought about it. Amanda might hold a man’s rapt attention; but she did it with her beauty, not with a sparkling personality or interesting conversation. Her conversation tended to get boring quickly since it usually centered on herself.
Chapter 22
MARIAN GREETED THE NEW day with a nice feeling of optimism. The sun was brightly shining. The smell of fresh-baked biscuits had floated upstairs. She liked the house she’d be living in and the room she’d been given. It was fairly large, with a lot of windows offering soft breezes. A corner room, with one side overlooking the bunkhouse, the stable, and the garden behind the house, the other offering a clear, unobstructed view as far as the eye could see.
She just might take up painting again, if she could find the supplies for it in Trenton. There was certainly room for an easel, and there was lots of light. She’d given up that enjoyable pastime several years ago, after she’d wanted to hang her best painting in the parlor at home, and her father had laughed at the idea, then proceeded to join Amanda in belittling her talent. She hadn’t picked up a brush since.
But only her sister was around to scoff at her efforts now, and, she hoped, not for too much longer. Whether Amanda got what she desired and was allowed to return home with Kathleen’s blessings to marry whomever she wanted, or whether she accepted the first offer of marriage she got here and dragged a new husband back home with her, Marian suspected it would be soon, since Amanda never dallied once she decided on a course of action. Which accounted for a good chunk of Marian’s optimism.
Marian knew that the time for her to stop altering her natural appearance and start living a normal life was at hand. It was cause for excitement. She was so tired of pretending and tired, too, of having to insult men just so they’d avoid her. She’d burned all her bridges at home and had every eligible male there despising her. But she could have a fresh start here, if Amanda would just leave sooner rather than later.
There was only one man here who despised her so far, and she hoped she could keep it at that. That he happened to be the only man who had ever set her pulse to racing was too bad. But the rest of her optimism had to do with him. He might understand if given a full explanation. They might be able to start anew, with no further pretenses in the way—as long as Amanda didn’t decide to use him as a means to get home.
That he was currently fascinated by Amanda wasn’t the monumental stumbling block it seemed to be. Most young men were fascinated by her until she revealed her true nature. Chad didn’t seem to be completely under Amanda’s spell yet, not if he could twice turn his attention toward her last night at dinner. He’d even teased her, or so he’d said. So maybe she hadn’t done such a good job of making him despise her after all.
All wishful thinking on Marian’s part as she dressed to go downstairs. But still, her optimism was riding high, hi feet, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been in such a good mood.
She’d probably been more worried about her reception here than she’d realized. After all, Kathleen was Mortimer’s sister. She could have been just like him. But she wasn’t. Not at all. And all Marian’s fears had been put to rest with the warm welcome she’d received.
The large dining room was empty when she reached it. She found the kitchen, but only Consuela the cook was there. A big, hefty woman in her middle years who obviously enjoyed eating what she cooked, Consuela was of Mexican descent, but had been born and raised in Texas, so she spoke in the same lazy drawl Marian had been hearing ever since she arrived.
Consuela shoved a heaping plate of food in Marian’s hands without comment, more food than she could possibly eat at one sitting. Still she sat down at the worktable there and tried to make a dent in it.
“Am I late?”
The cook shrugged. “Depends what you have in mind to do. If you want to eat with Red, you’ll have to get up at the crack of dawn. Work starts early around here, and this is a working ranch. But we have no formal mealtimes. I feed Red when she gets up, again when she comes in around midday—if she comes in. She doesn’t always. And again just after dusk. Food is available anytime, though, so just come help yourself when you get hungry.”
The woman looked a little embarrassed after saying all that. M
arian guessed she wasn’t used to talking so much, or of having anyone other than Kathleen or her daughter Rita invade her kitchen.
Marian smiled. “Thank you. I’ll try to get up earlier, so I can eat with my aunt. I think I’d enjoy that.”
The woman smiled back. Marian had a feeling she’d said the right thing and had just been accepted by a member of the household.
Amanda was still sleeping, of course. Twelve hours a day in bed was normal for her, whether she was asleep for all twelve of them or not. Beauty rest, she called it. Marian figured that Stuart had left for home earlier and that Spencer had either left or was a late sleeper owing to the hours he kept as the owner of a saloon. Chad, apparently, was back doing whatever it was he did for Kathleen, so she didn’t expect to see him today.
She wandered outside after breakfast. The day was already getting hot, but it was a dry warmth, and there was a nice breeze swirling about the ranch to keep it from getting too uncomfortable—yet.
A dust cloud on the horizon indicated someone was riding toward the ranch. She hoped it was Kathleen, but as the horse got closer, she saw it was one of the cowhands. She waited by the stable, but he didn’t ride that way. Instead he rode directly toward the bunkhouse nearby. He did notice her and tip his hat, even offered a friendly smile in passing.
The smile encouraged her to approach him and introduce herself before he disappeared inside the bunkhouse. She wasn’t usually so bold, but she was going to be living here and didn’t want to seclude herself from the other people who lived on the ranch.
“Good morning,” she called out as the cowhand was dismounting. “I’m Marian Laton.”
He glanced her way again, waited for her to reach him. “Lonny Judson, ma’am. I’m Red’s foreman—or soon will be. Chad’s been teaching me the job.”
He was a nice-looking young man in his mid-twenties with blond hair and green eyes. He sported a short, full beard a few shades darker than his hair. He probably thought it made him look older and thus more likely to succeed in the job he was being groomed for. It didn’t, but then the few cowhands she’d seen yesterday when they arrived were much younger, more her age, so it probably didn’t matter.
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