by Lily Graison
Colt glanced at her before facing his brother. “It’s good to see you too, Holden. Glad to see you haven’t changed since I’ve been gone. What’s for supper?”
Holden drew back his fist and struck out, catching Colt square in the jaw. Sarah gasped, shocked beyond words. Colt staggered from the blow but kept his feet under him. When he looked back at his brother, he was smiling. “Oh, you did miss me.”
“You’re an ass,” Holden said. “And don’t you dare go in there and get him worked up. He’s in one of his moods today.” He turned to face her and smiled again. “You look like you could use a bit of refreshing. How’s about I show you to a room where you can rest a bit before supper?”
“Sounds wonderful.” Sarah glanced at Colt. He was rubbing his jaw and that look was back in his eyes. His mouth was pinched into a frown and the murderous glare he threw at Holden’s’ back wasn’t missed by either of them. She took his hat off her head and handed it back to him without a word and followed Holden into the house.
* * * *
Nothing had changed since the last time he’d been home. Colt watched Sarah disappear at the top of the stairs and silently seethed at the fact Holden had his hand on her lower back, like she couldn’t even turn a corner without his guidance.
He shook his head in disgust. He didn’t want to think about why Holden touching her was eating at him so much. Best to just ignore it all or he’d be in for a hell of a night.
The usual sounds he expected rang throughout the house. Alex’s small feet bounding off the upstairs floor, Isaac in the kitchen cooking, and his father yelling at people who weren’t even there.
He sighed and went in search of him. He found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, staring off into space, his lips moving as if he was having a conversation. The man had been in his own little world since their mother died. They’d taken him to every doctor from Missoula to Colorado but no one knew what was wrong with him. It was as if his mind just shut down, blocked out everything in the world around him, and he lived in his own headspace.
Colt entered the parlor and took the seat across from him. He looked about the same as he had last time he saw him. His face was still etched with lines, his hair a wild mass of snow-white strands and he looked as if he’d dressed himself. His shirt was buttoned wrong and he wore nothing but his long legged, red underwear on bottom. Colt grinned while looking at him, wondering what Sarah would say. He couldn’t imagine her banker father ever went about the house in his drawers. At least his pa still insisted on wearing them. He could only imagine the outrage that would cause if he didn’t.
He reached out, laying his hand on his father’s leg and patted it a time or two. “Hey pa. I bought you that tobacco you wanted but the damn Indian’s took it from me.”
His father stopped mumbling, his eyes clearing a fraction but he never turned his head to look at him.
“They took my saddle too. Didn’t leave me with anything but the clothes on my back and my horse.”
A scowl covered the old man’s face before he made a spitting gesture toward the fireplace. It was no secret his father disliked the Indians. As many times as they’d ridden through their pastures and stole as many horses as they could wrangle, it was no wonder.
Colt continued to talk as if his father heard every word. He told him of the outlaws he’d help round up, the stagecoaches and banks he’d robbed and how he’d been tempted a time or two to just split town with all that money and never be found again.
Isaac walked into the room twenty minutes later, smiling a greeting at him and told him supper was about to be put on the table. Colt stood and grabbed his father’s arm. “Time to eat. What do’ya think Isaac cooked today? I’m starved half to death.”
He helped the old man to the dinning room and sat him at the head of the table. Colt had always hated the formal dinning room. His mother made them wash up, change their clothes, comb their hair and act as if the president himself was dining with them in that room. But since the day she died, his father refused to eat anywhere else. This room was his mother’s. She’d entertained many a guest within its walls and the table was set with her fine china at every meal.
There hadn’t been a day since she’d died that Colt didn’t walk into the room and feel her presence. She was in every crystal glass, every silver spoon. The fresh flowers that were always on the center of the table reminded him of the rose scented soap she’d been so fond of. His mother’s spirit still lingered here. It’s probably why his father refused to let go of it.
Alex bounded her way into the room and Colt left her with his father to wash up and change his clothes. Old habits died hard and besides, he hadn’t seen a bar of soap in days. His beard was growing in too. He could only imagine what he looked like.
Grabbing a pitcher of water from the kitchen, he took the back stairs two at a time, ignoring Holden as he passed him in the hall, and went straight to his room. It looked exactly the same as it had the last time he’d been there and from the smell of it, someone had sense enough to air it out every once in a while.
He wondered where Holden put Sarah and he had half a mind to look for her. Knowing Holden, he’d put her in the room Holden and his bride used to share, which happened to be next to the room Holden occupied now.
Colt shook his head in disgust. Knowing Holden, that’s exactly what he did. He’d do it for no other reason than to piss him off.
* * * *
Sarah wanted to sleep for a week but her stomach grumbled again. A dull aching pain ran through her middle and she knew, if she didn’t get food soon, she’d be nothing but a heap of petticoats on the floor. She didn’t think she’d ever been so hungry and wasn’t sure she’d be able to remember her manners once there was food in front of her.
She descended the stairs and smiled to herself as the swish of satin followed in her wake. Holden had told her to help herself to the dresses in the bureau and she’d been amazed when she looked and saw them. Every color of the rainbow, in every fabric she could imagine was inside that piece of furniture and she’d delighted in seeing them until she learned where they had came from. They’d belonged to Holden’s wife. Alex’s mother, a young bride who died in childbirth.
Pushing the thought aside again, she straightened the collar on the dress, ran a hand over the skirt and looked in every direction once she reached the bottom of the stairs. She patted her hair, making sure it was still pinned at the back of her neck and pinched color into her cheeks. She didn’t need to do much as the sun left a rosy glow over her features.
She heard the chatter of multiple people talking and followed the noise, finding the doorway to the dining room. Everyone was there and looked up at her when she stopped at the entrance.
Colt stood, followed by Holden, and she smiled a greeting to them both. Colt had changed his clothes, cleaned up a bit, and even shaved. Seeing him like this, standing beside Holden, you really couldn’t tell the two of them apart other than the difference in their hair.
He smiled at her and she knew, even in the dark, she’d know that smile. It held secrets she wanted to find out and given the time, she knew she would.
She noticed an older man at the head of the table, Holden and Colt’s father, she assumed. He was staring at the empty plate in front of him and didn’t look up until she reached the end of the table and started around it. He stood immediately and she smiled in his direction.
Colt and Holden looked toward him and it wasn’t until Holden frowned and Colt raised an eyebrow that Sarah stopped. She’d been making her way to the empty seat beside their father but thought better of it now. When he stepped around the table, Sarah’s eyes widened. He was in his long-legged drawers and a button up shirt, barefoot and smiling at her as if he’d seen an angel.
The old man ambled toward her, a huge smile on his face and took her hand when he reached her. “I been wondering when you’d get back. Come sit next to me.”
Helping her to the chair on the right of his, he held it in p
lace while she sat. Once she was situated, she turned to him. “Thank you.”
He stared at her in wonder, the smile on his face causing a burst of joy to fill her heart. Colt hadn’t talked much about his father and she’d wondered why. He seemed pleasant enough. When the older man sat, she turned to Colt, who was still standing, along with Holden. They were gaping at their father as if he’d done something outrageous.
“Pa, this is Sarah,” Holden said. “She came in with Colt.”
Sarah smiled at him again and held her hand out for a formal introduction. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
He took her hand in both of his and smiled at her again.
“His name is James,” Holden told her. “He doesn’t talk much.”
“Oh.” Sarah watched him and patted his hand before pulling hers away. The food arrived and Colt finally sat back down. He looked at Holden, who shrugged his shoulders, and the conversation that followed ranged from the horses to another brother, Morgan, they said, who’d been married a few months back. His wife was expecting a baby come winter and Holden told Colt to make sure he saw him before lighting out again.
Alex chattered on about her pony and still not being able to lasso the thing and Sarah listened as she tried to take as many small bites of food as she could. The urge to slam her face into her plate and eat like a rabid dog was severe. Every bite tasted like heaven and by the time she was finished, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to move.
Colt’s father stood as soon as they were finished, offering Sarah his arm. She looked to Colt, who was giving his father a quizzical look. She stood and took the older man’s arm, letting him lead her to the parlor, a room decorated in lace, and furniture with soft fabrics. Guiding her to a chair near the fireplace, he sat opposite her and just stared.
The ease at which she’d felt earlier was fading. Something was very wrong with this man. She could see that in his eyes, in the way he looked at her and in his lack of desire to speak. Not to mention his odd choice of clothing. Or his lack of clothing, period. She wished Colt had warned her. Not knowing exactly what she was dealing with left her feeling a bit off kilter. Remembering her manners, she folded her hands into her lap and gave him another friendly smile. “Your home is very lovely. I’ve never been to a working ranch of this size.”
He glanced at a portrait above the fireplace and Sarah looked as well. What she saw shocked her. The woman in the painting could have passed for one of her relatives. Her bone structure was similar to her own, the color of their hair the same. She looked regal, sophisticated and wore her beauty like a badge. “She’s quite beautiful,” Sarah said. “Is she your wife?”
James looked back over at her and Sarah noticed a sadness on his face that nearly broke her heart. His eyes took on a glassy appearance, the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown and when he looked away, back at the painting, Sarah knew what this man suffered from. Heartbreak. He was devastated by it.
She turned to the parlor door, saw Colt and Holden hovering near the entryway and her heart went out to both of them. They looked like lost children wondering what to do. Two grown men and they had no clue what was wrong with their father.
Smiling at them both, she straightened her shoulders and turned back to James. “Its still quite warm out, would you like to take a walk with me?”
He lifted his head, his frown turning into a smile, and when he stood and walked away, she stared after him confused. A door slammed somewhere in the house and he appeared moments later wearing a pair of boots and his hat. Sarah laughed, the sight of him in his red drawers and boots too much. Standing, she walked across the room and took his arm. “Where shall we go?”
James looked up as if thinking. “I’d like to see the garden.”
She nodded her head, patted his hand and turned to the door. “The garden it is.”
Chapter Eleven
Colt watched Sarah and his father from the porch. His father was smiling. He shook his head at the sight and sat down on the railing. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him smile.”
“Me either.” Holden walked to the railing, bracing his hands on top. “He does nothing all day but sit in his chair and talk to himself. He hasn’t said a word to me in two months.” He glanced at Colt and smiled. “Two minutes with her and he’s down right chatty. Where’d you find this girl?”
“I robbed her daddy’s bank.”
Holden laughed. “Naturally. Did you kidnap her as well?”
“Not exactly.” He told Holden the story, how he’d found her with the outlaw gang and left her there. About riding out with those ruffians and leading them right into the hands of US Marshals. The exchange had gone from bad to worse when Virgil pulled his gun and shot one of the officers. It went all to hell then. The shoot out was bloody and when they all scattered, him being chased by those men he’d befriended, he’d seen Sarah running and scooped her up so none of the others would.
“So you save a girl by kidnapping her, dragged her through two territories and brought her home with you.” Holden gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
Colt laughed and leaned back against the corner post. “Why the hell would you think something like that? I was trying to protect her. She can jump on the next stagecoach and be back home outside a week.”
Holden shook his head. “And how many towns have you passed through that had a stagecoach line? You know every piss-ass settlement from here to Texas. Every stagecoach road and train depot.” He grinned at him and turned, leaning his hip against the railing and crossing his arms over his chest. “Fess up, brother. Why do you still have this girl with you? There’s got to be a reason.”
Raising his hand to adjust his hat, Colt looked out across the dooryard at Sarah and decided not to answer. He’d been asking himself that same question and had yet to find a good reason. Why did he still have Sarah with him?
Holden was right about being able to put her on a stagecoach before now, yet he hadn’t. He liked to rationalize it all by thinking Virgil would have expected him to hit the bigger towns along the way and that’s why he’d avoided them. Or that he took the shortest path from there to here.
That knowing feeling in his gut when he looked at her twisted in his chest and if he were honest with himself, he’d say the reason he kept her around was purely selfish. He’d wanted her the moment the gun smoke cleared in that bank. When she lifted that arrogant chin and dared him to make a move. When he showed her his face and her eyes lit up enough to let him know she liked what she saw.
His own arrogance is why he kept her. He wanted her and he’d planned on having her. Plain and simple. Now that he’d had a taste of her, albeit a very small one, he couldn’t think of much else. The sounds she’d made when he’d been between her legs had made his cock so hard he thought it’d break. His blood had sang through his veins like a locomotive barreling down a dead-end track.
Why did he keep Sarah around?
He blew out a breath as she turned back to the house, a smile lighting her face until she looked like an angel. Small sprigs of hair had come loose from the knot at the back of her neck to dangle near her face and the late blooming rose in her hand paled in comparison to her beauty. She was lovely, any man’s dream, and one he could see himself with if it weren’t for the fact he never wanted to end up loving someone so much it tore his heart out when she was gone.
Did he love Sarah? Probably, but that didn’t mean he’d ever tell her. It would kill him when she left and for that reason alone, he’d let her go without a second thought. A woman like Sarah was all wrong for him. She was too refined, too beautiful. There was too much blood on his hands to ever taint her in such a way. Besides, she had a fiancé waiting for her. A town marshal her father liked and respected. Why would he ever give the hand of his daughter to an outlaw?
* * * *
The normal sounds of a busy household woke Sarah. She stretched, working the kinks out of her spine and sighed before snuggli
ng back down into the blankets her thoughts drifting to Colt.
