Daisy thought he looked a little dazed, but it probably wasn't fair to judge. He had just received a terrible shock.
"Mother says this Randolph is a gentleman," Guy said. He fidgeted nervously. "I'm sure she's right, but can you be certain he'll stick to his story?"
"He's the one who insisted I go to his brother," Daisy said. "He wouldn't have brought me to you if you'd been in town. He was determined no one should know I wasn't properly chaperoned. I'm sure he'd be angry I told you."
"Very proper," Guy said. "And the rest of them?"
"Are you worried the story would embarrass you?"
"Good God, no," Guy said, flushing. "I was concerned about you. I know it would practically kill you to have this story get out."
Oddly enough, Daisy didn't think it would.
"I know, you know, and the Randolphs know. It doesn't really matter what anybody else thinks."
"Not quite," Guy said. "I have complete faith in you, but there are many people who might not. I've asked around about the Randolphs. They're rich, but they also have a reputation for being men who take what they want. That includes women."
"You haven't met Tyler. He doesn't want anything."
"I'm glad to hear that, but this whole thing is best forgotten. I'll be relieved when the Randolphs return to their ranch."
Daisy didn't want Hen and Laurel to leave. It was her only connection with Tyler.
She told herself not to be stupid. He didn't want anything to do with her. It would be better if she could accept this, not keep hanging onto something that was over, something that had never been very much of a hope in the first place.
Guy patted her hand, a smile which seemed only slightly forced on his lips. "I know it's terribly soon after your awful ordeal. Naturally you'll want to observe a decent period of mourning for your father, but I wish you'd set a date."
"What for?"
"The wedding."
Daisy had the oddest feeling of being sad and relieved at the same time, like something was closing in around her, choking off her air. At the same time something she feared was receding into the background. She must be losing her mind.
"I can't, not now."
"Then at least let me announce our engagement."
"No! People would want to come by and congratulate me, ask me about the wedding, about my father, all kinds of things. I can't deal with that and getting married at the same time."
"Of course." Guy smiled in a way that ought to have been endearing. "I'd like to say I want you to take as long as you like. But I really want us to get married as soon as possible. I don't want to rush you," he hastened to add. "Just know I'm anxious to make you my wife."
"I'll try. It's just that so much has happened."
"I know. You're feeling overwhelmed."
Yes, she had been overwhelmed, but not for the reason Guy believed.
Chapter Nineteen
Tyler returned to his base camp. He took care of his animals, cleaned his tools, then prepared and ate his supper. He had found more color today. He knew he was getting close to locating the source of the gold.
In the four days since he had returned from Albuquerque, the weather had turned as unseasonably mild as it had been cold the weeks before. The ground was so wet every hole he dug soon filled with water. He wished he'd packed his tarpaulin, but his cabin was fifteen miles away, too far to go back. He sat on a rock, staring out over the hills as they fell away toward the Rio Grande nearly twenty miles away. Millions of stars twinkled in the clear sky, but Tyler hardly noticed.
Thoughts of Daisy filled his mind, as they had nearly every moment of the last week. He tried to go over in his mind what he planned to do the next day. But instead he found himself wondering if Daisy was still with Hen and Laurel or if the Cochranes had returned from Santa Fe. Studying the way the water ran away from the hills, he tried to guess from the location of the bits of gold where the source might be, but he found himself wondering if Daisy was going to marry this Guy Cochrane after all. He tried to decide where to begin his digging tomorrow. Instead he wondered if she was happy.
He wasn't. He'd never been more miserable in his life.
He missed her. It wouldn't do him any good to keep denying it. It seemed ridiculous after doing everything he could to escape from her, but it was true. He found himself remembering little things he hadn't even been aware of at the time.
He liked the way the curls clustered around her face after he cut her hair. It made her look younger, more charming than she would believe. He remembered the way she wore her bandage, almost like a Turk wears his turban. It didn't bother her at all. It almost became a part of her. But he guessed his favorite recollection was of Daisy swallowed up in one of his coats. There was something about that memory that made him fiercely protective.
But most of all he worried if she was safe. She would be as long as she was with Hen, but what about afterwards? He worried she would marry Guy Cochrane because she thought she had no other choice. He worried she wouldn't be happy no matter what happened. Not that he could help her with that. Only at the end had they begun to understand each other.
He got up. He'd better get to sleep. He had a long day of digging ahead of him tomorrow.
But even after he went to bed, he had difficulty falling asleep. He kept remembering the Daisy he held in his arms. That hadn't been mere lust. It wasn't a feeling he could transfer to the next female he met. The feeling was for Daisy alone, and it was still there.
It was a good thing he didn't have to go into Albuquerque for supplies for at least a month. It looked like he was going to need every minute of that time to let this feeling die. It scared him to think it might only grow stronger.
* * * * *
"You fool! You a stupid, dim-witted fool!" Regis Cochrane shouted at Frank Storach. "I told you not to touch the girl."
"But she saw me coming out of the house," Frank protested. He was loading bales of wool from one of Cochrane's warehouses for shipment. The spring shearing would start before long.
"Did she see you kill the old man?" Regis demanded. He didn't climb down from his buggy. The yard was muddy.
"No."
"Then you could have lied, told her you stopped by for a cup of coffee and discovered the body."
Frank paused in his work. Despite the cold, he was perspiring. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "But she heard the shot. She was bound to figure out--"
"She could prove anything. You and the fools you hired could have disappeared, and it would have blown over. Where are they now?"
"They headed for Mexico."
"Good," Regis said, like he was thinking of something else. "You do the same thing. Go as far away as Montana if necessary, but don't come back to New Mexico. I've got to think of somebody to blame it on."
Frank stepped over to the buggy. "I could still kill the girl."
"I need her to get the land, you fool."
Frank resented being called a fool. "I still got some money coming."
"I'll give you a hundred, enough to get down the trail, but not a dime more. You botched the job. It's liable to cost me even more to fix this mess." Regis counted out the money and handed it Frank.
"I killed the old man just like you wanted," Frank said. "You owe me that money."
"No."
"I know people who'd be interested in things I could tell."
The implacable cruelty in Regis's nature was easily visible in his eyes. "There's nobody alive who's double-crossed me. Remember that," he said, impatiently dismissing Frank's threat as though it were of no more concern to him than a gnat. "Not get out of town before I turn you over to the sheriff. Daisy Singleton has a dead accurate description of you." Regis took up the reins and drove off.
With anger in his heart, Frank counted the money before stuffing it into his pocket. He was the one who had done all the work, who'd spent a week nearly freezing looking for the girl. He knew she could identify him. It was his neck that would stretch if they ever cau
ght him.
He went back to work, but anger against the Regis Cochrane burned in his heart. He'd been cheated of money that was rightfully his. He'd been hired to kill an old man and burn down his house, two hundred and fifty up front and the same when it was done. He'd been cheated of a hundred and fifty dollars. It would serve Regis right if he killed the girl so he couldn't get his hands on her land.
* * * * *
"It's a boy," Laurel announced. "Big and blond just like his father."
Laurel was propped up in the big bed she had shared with Daisy that first evening. She looked tired but happy. Hen, who stood at her side like a proud but silent bulwark between his wife and the world, had sent Daisy a message before breakfast. Daisy had come as soon as she could get away.
"I'm sure you're proud of him," she said.
"I was secretly hoping for a girl," Laurel confessed. "I already have two boys. But I should have known better. Except for Rose, that's all anybody has in this family. Fern has four already."
"You can only blame one on me," Hen said.
"I'm sure I'll get a chance to blame you for more," Laurel said, but she didn't look the least bit unwilling. "Now you can take the boys for a ride without worrying about me. Daisy will sit with me until you return."
"I won't stir an inch," Daisy said when Hen hesitated. "If she looks the slightest bit uncomfortable, I'll go straight for the doctor."
"You're not to go near a doctor, no matter what happens," Laurel said after Hen had gone. "It's taken every bit of my persuasive powers just to get him to allow me to sit up. I told him I had Adam in the morning and cooked my own supper before nightfall." She chuckled. "It only made him more watchful."
They talked of unimportant things until they heard a cry from the bassinet. "Do you mind getting the baby?" Laurel asked. "It's time to feed him. I'd get him myself, but Hen would be sure to find out."
"I've never held a baby," Daisy said.
"It's not difficult. Just put one hand under his head and one under his bottom. He'll wiggle like jelly, but you won't drop him."
It turned out just as Laurel said. Daisy decided there was something magical about a baby. This was her first experience with one, but it gripped her instantly. She only held him a few seconds, but she was reluctant to hand him to his mother. "What's his name?"
"William Henry Harrison Randolph. I named him after his father despite Hen's objections," Laurel said as she prepared to feed her son. "I know it's a mouthful, but Hen can't have three sons and none of them named after him. He'll probably end up being called Harry, but I'm holding out for Harrison."
The baby began to nurse with surprising aggressiveness for such a tiny creature.
"Greedy, that's what he is," Laurel said in doting accents. "Just like his brothers. He'll fit right in."
The baby was absolutely adorable. Harrison was a real person who would some day grow up to be a man just like his father.
It was a miracle.
It required no feat of imagination for Daisy to see herself nursing her own son. Rather it required an effort not to be jealous this wasn't her child. She'd always known she wanted children. She hadn't known how much until now.
The thought that absolutely stunned her was that she imagined herself holding Tyler's son, not Guy's.
"How are things going with you?" Laurel asked once she was certain her son had settled down to his work.
"Fine," Daisy said, refocusing her thoughts. "The Cochranes couldn't be any kinder if they were my own relatives."
"Wonderful. Have you heard from your father's family yet?"
"No." Daisy realized she hadn't even thought to contact them. "I don't know their address," she said, realizing it would have burned up in the fire. "I don't know how to contact them."
"Put an announcement of his death in all the newspapers giving your name and address. I'm sure they'll contact you."
Daisy wasn't sure she wanted to do that. She wouldn't know what to do if her father's family did contact her.
Laurel studied Daisy closely. "How are you feeling?"
"A little dazed. I was certain Guy wouldn't want to marry me. I told him everything that happened. He insisted it made no difference."
"I meant how are you feeling about Tyler?"
Daisy felt heat flood her face. She hadn't had the courage to ask herself that question.
"I've put him out of my mind," she said. She was unable to discuss her feelings about Tyler, even with Laurel. She was too unsure of them.
"Probably very wise."
"Guy's pressing me to set a date for the wedding. He says he's anxious to take all my worries off my shoulders."
"That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you."
But Daisy was well aware Laurel guarded her expression.
"I told him I wasn't ready."
"I can understand," Laurel said, looking down at her son. She changed sides. "However, it's never wise to take too long to get through a period like this. I know. I've lost my mother, father, and a husband. It'll be easier if you go on and get married. Making room in your life for a man is a big adjustment. I've done it twice, and it wasn't easy either time."
"Not even with Hen?"
"Don't ever tell him I said this," Laurel confided with a smile. "It was just a different kind of difficulty. It always is when you marry a strong man. They don't realize it, but they don't bend very easily."
Tyler didn't bend at all as far as Daisy could tell.
"Guy and his family are doing everything they can to shield me from any unpleasantness or curiosity over my father's death. Mr. Cochrane has taken over trying to find out who killed my father. His mother will plan the wedding."
"You're very fortunate." Laurel lifted her son against her shoulder. He rewarded her with an immediate burp.
"Not a very elegant way of signifying his satisfaction."
"May I hold him?" Daisy asked.
"Sure."
Daisy took Harrison from his mother and cradled him in her arms. He didn't feel at all strange this time. He seemed awfully small, but totally wonderful.
"He looks so much like his father already."
"All the Randolph children do. I wouldn't have been able to tell Fern's boys apart if it hadn't been for their ages. I don't think Rose had anything to do with her four. They're pure Randolph."
"You don't mind?"
"I can't think of anything more wonderful than having a son who looks exactly like the man I love."
"You do love him a lot, don't you?"
"I can't tell you how much. Sometimes it frightens me."
Daisy knew she looked confused.
"Hen used to be a gunfighter. I married him knowing there would always be a chance I would lose him." Laurel smiled softly. "I hated everything I thought he stood for, but it didn't do any good. I fell in love with him anyway."
The baby fell asleep in Daisy's arms, but she hardly noticed. "You married a man you disapproved of?"
"It was either that or be miserable the rest of my life. It was the same for Iris and Fern. No sane woman wants to marry a Randolph. We just can't help ourselves. You can put Harrison to bed now. He'll sleep until he's hungry again."
Daisy lay him in his bed. Her mind was racing. Three women had married Randolph brothers even though they didn't want to. Yet it had worked out fine for all of them.
But there was a major difference, she reminded herself. Tyler didn't want to marry her. As long as that was true, nothing else mattered.
As Daisy turned, she heard the door to the sitting room open and a babble of voices enter.
"That'll be Hen and the boys," Laurel said, a smile wreathing her face. "It sounds like they had a good ride."
Daisy felt like crying. If she had to sit and watch a happy family group, she was sure she would.
"I'd better be going," she said. "Mrs. Cochrane will worry if I stay away too long. They're all convinced I’m so fragile I'll crumble at the slightest thing."
"What do you think?" Laurel asked.
"I don't know what I think."
A boy of about eight burst into the room. "Ma, you should have been with us. I beat Jordy."
"He wouldn't have if that nag I was riding hadn't shied," Jordy said, disgusted. "I told you Adam and me ought to have brought our own horses."
"How did your father do?"
"Aw, he always wins," Adam complained. "Ain't no horse can beat Brimstone."
* * * * *
A sharp wind whipped around the rocky outcroppings. After a week warm enough to melt the last of the snow, the weather had turned cold under a clear, blue sky. Tyler continued to dig out the pieces of soft quartz with his pick. He barely noticed the thin vein of gold that laced the rock and glinted softly in the sunlight, or that it grew larger as he dug deeper into the hillside. He couldn't stop thinking about Daisy. He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind for more than a few minutes since he left Albuquerque.
He couldn't forget that last night in the cabin, the way she had felt in his arms, the taste of her kisses, the passion that warmed her body until it was as heated as his own.
But it wasn't merely that night. He missed her. He'd had plenty of time to realize no other woman had responded to him as she had. Other women didn't know what to do with him. They were careful to avoid offending him. Strange he should like the one who seemed to make a point of annoying him. He was perverse and obstinate, just like the rest of his family.
He tried to keep his mind on his work. He had thought nothing meant as much as finding gold -- that was the basis on which he had made every decision for the past three years -- but things had changed in less than two weeks.
The more he thought about the killer, the less confident he felt the Cochranes could protect Daisy. He had no doubt they would have the sheriff on the killer's trail, but he doubted they would understand how dangerous this man was. Tyler doubted he would attempt to shoot Daisy in Albuquerque. He would probably wait until she visited her parents' graves.
Tyler drove his pick deep into the rock. He pulled out loose stone and attacked the vein more savagely. The click of metal on stone caused him to look up. Willie Mozel was coming over the ridge. Tyler left his diggings. He had coffee on by the time Willie reached the camp.
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