by Janet Dailey
“It’s nothing more than the truth,” Laura replied easily. “You’re wasting your time, Sebastian, and you have precious little of it to waste.”
He leaned a hip against the dresser and folded his arms in front of him. “I don’t see it that way.”
“Suit yourself.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug of indifference.
“Ah, now therein lies the problem.” He lightly shook one finger at her as he pushed away from the dresser. With a negligent ease, he eliminated much of the space between them. “No one suits me as well as you do.” His fingertips lightly touched the underside of her jaw as if to tilt her face toward him.
“I believe you,” Laura said, conscious of all the raw stirrings within. “But it doesn’t change anything. I’m still going to marry Boone.”
“So you said before.” His hand drifted down to her throat, touching it without quite touching it, even as his mouth moved inexorably closer to hers.
As Laura debated whether to allow Sebastian to kiss her, the decision was removed from her hands by Tara’s summoning voice. “Laura!”
“Nice try,” she said to Sebastian and stepped away, laughter dancing in her eyes as she moved to the door. Exiting the bedroom, she crossed to the top of the stairs. “Did you call me, Tara?”
“I’d like a quick word with you before I leave.” She stood by the bottom newel post, looking up. “Would you mind walking me to the door?”
“Not at all,” Laura replied, conscious of Sebastian coming out of the bedroom behind her. Then, “Thanks for carrying my luggage up,” she said to Sebastian, tossing the words over her shoulder, and ran lightly down the stairs to join Tara.
The instant her foot left the last step, she struck out for the foyer, ignoring the sharp probe of Tara’s gaze. Laura knew exactly what Tara wanted to discuss, and it wasn’t the wedding.
Tara didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “You need to send that man on his way, Laura. The sooner the better.” Her voice was hard with demand, and there was an angry snap in her dark eyes.
“Why? He’s no threat.” Laura smiled with confidence. “I know his game.”
“Perhaps you do,” Tara conceded coolly. “But I warn you, Boone is the jealous type. He’ll be furious if he finds out he’s here.”
Laura bristled inwardly. “Then he’ll have to get over it, won’t he?”
“That is not a wise attitude to take.”
“Maybe not,” Laura agreed, albeit reluctantly. “At the same time, I don’t see why you’re making such a big fuss about Sebastian being here. He won’t be staying long—not now that he knows he is completely out of the running.” She flashed the engagement ring as a reminder to Tara. “What choice does he have, other than to charm his way into some other woman’s bank account?”
“True. But he is a charmer,” Tara added almost as a warning.
“Don’t worry,” Laura assured her. “I may make a fool of him, but he will never make a fool of me.” As far as she was concerned, that closed the subject. “Don’t forget to call me as soon as you have the names of some wedding coordinators.”
“I’ll get on that as soon as I get home,” Tara promised.
Chapter Thirteen
The yellow sun sat high in the summer sky, throwing its brightness over the big land. Coffee cup in hand, Laura wandered onto the front veranda, careful to stay within the shade of its roof and avoid the full glare of the sun. Her gaze traveled over the ranch yard, seeking out each and every area of activity, but at this late hour of the morning, there was little to be found.
Almost belatedly she became aware of a figure in her side vision. Laura turned and smiled when she saw her grandfather sitting in one of the wooden rockers, eyes closed and chin buried in his chest.
She walked over to the rocker and pressed a light kiss on top of his gray head. “Good morning, Gramps.”
He came awake with a start, blinked, and hurriedly rubbed a hand across his mouth as if to rid it of any inadvertent drools. He threw a quick identifying look at her. “It’s you,” he said, then glanced at the coffee cup in her hand. “You just getting up?”
“More or less,” Laura admitted and again let her attention wander to the ranch yard. “Where is everybody?”
“Your mother’s at the ranch office, and Laredo said he was going to South Camp this morning. Trey went to doctor a couple of steers in the home pasture.” There was a trace of sly humor in the sideways glance he sent her. “Or was it the Englishman you were wondering about?”
“As if you didn’t know.”
“He rode along with Trey. I don’t imagine he would have if you had gotten up at a decent hour.”
“You know I’ve never been a morning person, Gramps.” Laura raised the cup to her mouth and breathed in the coffee’s fragrant aroma before taking a sip of it. At the same time, she kept a covert watch in the direction of the home pasture, so named for its nearness to The Homestead. “How long have they been gone?”
“A couple hours, maybe more. You can bet Trey will be back in time for lunch.”
“In that case, I’ll miss them,” Laura said with a touch of regret.
Her remark drew a frown from Chase. “Why?”
“Allie wants me to run into town. According to the trusty range telegraph, Fedderson’s received a batch of fresh strawberries this morning, and Allie wants some for dessert tonight,” Laura explained, referring to the woman who ran the kitchen at The Homestead, and had for the last ten years. “I offered to go after lunch, but she’s worried that they’ll be sold out by then. I was going to ask Sebastian if he wanted to ride along with me, and we could grab a bite to eat at Harry’s”
“If he was here, I’d give you odds that he would jump at the chance,” Chase observed dryly.
“Probably.” She took another idle sip of her coffee. “You do know that Sebastian is very anxious to get his hands on my money.”
“I know.” Chase nodded and slanted a twinkly look at her. “Judging from the way he looks at you, I think he’d enjoy getting his hands on you as well.”
Laura clicked her tongue in mock dismay. “You aren’t supposed to notice such things, Gramps.”
“I may be old, but I’m not dead,” he retorted.
She laughed. “I should hope not.”
But Chase didn’t choose to get sidetracked by her comment. “I get the impression you might have some feelings for this Englishman. Otherwise, knowing what you do about him, you would have already shown him the door.”
Laura pitched her shoulders forward in an uncaring shrug. “If Sebastian chooses to stay, knowing that I am going to marry Boone, it’s his time he’s wasting.”
“That reminds me,” Chase said. “Crockett called earlier this morning. He said he’d try to reach you tonight sometime.”
“You might as well give up, Gramps. You are not going to rile me anymore by calling him Crockett.” A trio of riders approached the home-pasture gate. Laura crossed to the edge of the veranda, put two fingers to her mouth, and whistled shrilly. Trey answered with an acknowledging wave and swung the gate open from horseback, held it open for the other two, then maneuvered it shut.
One rider split away to head for the corrals while Trey and the second man branched off toward The Homestead. Laura watched them approach at a steady trot, her attention centering on Sebastian. A straw Resistol sat atop his head, its brim shading his face. He wore a pair of faded Levis and a plain blue shirt. From a distance, he could have passed for one of the ranch hands, but the riding boots gave him away.
When the pair reined up near the front steps, Laura declared, “You almost look like a cowboy in that saddle, Sebastian.”
“If I do, the credit belongs to your brother,” he replied. “He informed me that if he caught me posting at the trot—his words—he would knock me out of the saddle straight to kingdom come.”
“Trey!” Laura was too stunned by his rudeness to a guest to do more than stare at her brother.
“Good God,
Laura, it’s one thing for you to do it, but if he started bouncing up and down, you know all the other guys would look at him sideways the whole time he’s here,” Trey said with force.
Sebastian made light of it. “When in the West, do as the westerners do. Of course, I also didn’t know how far it might be to kingdom come, and I felt certain I didn’t want to find out.”
As always, the dryness of his humor made Laura laugh. “I’m glad you’re back all in one piece. I have to go into town. Want to ride along and see what one of our western villages looks like?”
“It’s almost lunchtime,” Trey said in protest.
“We can grab a bite at Harry’s. The food won’t be as good as what Allie will put on the table, but it’ll do,” Laura replied and looked at Sebastian. “What d’you say? Are you coming or not?”
“After tangling with that steer, I’ll need to wash up a bit.”
“No problem,” she said. “I still have to get my purse and the keys to the pickup.”
“I’ll take care of your horse,” Trey offered. “You go on inside and clean up. Knowing Laura, she’s just as apt to leave without you.”
“Only if he dawdles,” Laura teased as Sebastian swung out of the saddle and handed the horse’s reins to Trey.
“I have been accused of many things, but never dawdling,” Sebastian countered as he came up the steps.
“There’s always a first for everything,” Laura retorted and headed for the door.
After it closed behind them, Chase fired a glance at Trey. “Did he really tangle with a steer?”
“I guess you could say that. After we got the steer down, he sat on his neck to hold him while Baker and I doctored the gash on his hip. At least he pitched in to help, which is more than I can say about Crockett.” Clicking to the horses, Trey reined away from the house and set out for the barns.
The shadow raced alongside the pickup as it sped over the highway. On either side of it the land rolled away, stretching from blue horizon to blue horizon.
Laura took her eyes off the road long enough to run a glance over Sebastian’s profile. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“I suspect this land is to blame,” he said with an absent smile. “It gives one a new appreciation for that trite phrase ‘wide open spaces.’ ”
“I suppose.” She looked around, trying to see it through his eyes. “I can remember my gramps once saying, ‘This land makes a small man smaller and a big man king.’ ”
“I suspect your grandfather looked every inch the cattle king in his day.” There was an underlying note of admiration and respect in his voice. The sound of it warmed something deep inside Laura and brought a faint swell of pride.
“From the stories I’ve heard, he wasn’t a man to tangle with,” she said.
“I dare say he still isn’t.”
In the distance the rooflines of Blue Moon jutted into view. “Town’s just ahead of us—such as it is,” Laura said. “When I was growing up it was a lively place. But that was back when the mine was in full operation.”
“A mine? What kind?”
“Coal. There’s tons of it underground. I can take you to a half dozen places on the Triple C where seams of it are exposed. Back in the old days it was just about the only fuel they had to heat their homes, other than cow chips, of course.”
“And what might cow chips be?”
Laura smiled at Sebastian’s puzzled look. “Manure.”
His eyebrows shot up in instant reaction. “Indeed, burning coal is infinitely preferable to burning manure for heat.” As they approached the outskirts of town, Laura reduced the truck’s speed, and Sebastian directed his attention to the buildings before him. “When did the mine close?”
“About a year ago, I think. The entrance to it is ahead on the right.” Laura pointed to the tall gate, chained and padlocked to prevent access. “After it closed, there was a mass exodus from town, with almost everybody moving away to find other jobs. The population of Blue Moon probably numbers only around thirty or forty people now.”
She flipped on the left turn signal and waited for a southbound semi to roar past, then made the swing into Fedderson’s lot. “Strawberries, here we come.”
“You intend to purchase strawberries at a petrol station?”
“There’s a grocery store inside, as well as post office and a small snack area. They even have a miscellaneous section where they sell everything from automotive supplies and hardware items to trinkets and magazines. Fedderson’s is really what used to be called a general store. Clothing is about the only thing they don’t sell.” Laura pulled up in front of the building and switched off the engine. After slipping the ignition key into her purse, she climbed out of the pickup while Sebastian exited the passenger side. “The Feddersons don’t actually own it anymore. Old Mrs. Fedderson sold it about eight years ago to Ross and Marsha Kelly,” she explained as she started toward the store entrance. “He drives a truck, so he isn’t here very often.”
“Surely his wife doesn’t run it all by herself, does she?” Sebastian reached ahead of her to open the door.
“Her brother works here, too, mostly at night. He’s a Vietnam vet who lost his leg in the war. Between the two of them and some part-time help, they do fine.” Laura preceded him into the store.
Marsha Kelly was behind the counter, a slightly built brunette with apple cheeks and the first few strands of gray showing in her hair. Her smile was quick and warm when she recognized Laura.
“Hi, Laura. Let me guess: you’re here for the strawberries,” she said.
Laura responded with a confirming nod. “Allie’s orders. I’m supposed to buy a whole flat.”
The woman grinned. “I swear I’ve had more customers this morning than I had all last weekend.” She pointed to her right. “All the strawberries I have left are on that table over by the fresh produce.”
Laura made her way to the produce aisle, trailed by Sebastian. After that, she simply had to follow her nose to the source of the sweet strawberry smell. Half the table was already bare of fruit, but one look at the berries’ red, ripe perfection and Laura understood why.
“Don’t they look luscious,” she marveled as she scooped up a flat of them.
“Indeed they do,” Sebastian agreed and reached for the flat. “Let me carry that for you.”
“Thanks.” Laura surrendered it to him without hesitation and retraced her path to the counter. “You still have six quarts left,” she told Marsha.
“They’ll be gone before the afternoon’s over, I imagine. Is there anything else you need?”
“Not this trip.” Laura removed the wallet from her purse as Sebastian set the flat of strawberries on the countertop.
“By the way,” Marsha said as she rang up the sale, “let Allie know that Ross is making a run to the Gulf Coast this week. He’ll be bringing back shrimp and some honest-to-goodness homegrown tomatoes, if he can find any.”
“I’ll tell her,” Laura promised and pushed a twenty-dollar bill onto the counter.
“I need some more ones. Just a second.” The woman reached under the counter and pulled out a thick bank-deposit bag, unzipped it to reveal a bulging stack of bills, then exchanged a ten-dollar bill from the cash drawer for ten ones.
At the sight of such a large quantity of cash, Sebastian frowned in concern. “I should think having so much money on hand would be an invitation for robbery. Aren’t you worried about such a possibility, being a woman, here by yourself?”
“Not really,” Marsha Kelly replied with marked indifference. “Everybody knows I keep a loaded .38 under the counter as well. And they also know my brother Bob made sure I know how to use it. When you live in the middle of nowhere, with anything remotely resembling the law a good fifty miles away, people have to be willing to protect their own property.”
“I see,” Sebastian murmured.
Smiling to herself, Marsha glanced at Laura and tipped her head in Sebastian’s direction. “Is this your fiancé?”
“The ever-reliable range telegraph has been at work, has it?” Laura wasn’t at all surprised that the news of her recent engagement had already made it to Blue Moon. “Actually, Sebastian is just a friend,” she explained, then made the introductions. “Marsha, I’d like you to meet His Lordship, the earl of Crawford, Sebastian Dunshill, from England. Marsha Kelly, the proprietress of Fedderson’s.”
Flustered by the title, the woman searched for an appropriate response. “Welcome to Montana, Your High—” She darted a frantic look at Laura, unsure of the proper way to address him.
“Sebastian will do,” he said graciously.
“Sebastian,” Marsha repeated, and awkwardly bobbed her head.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kelly.”
“The same,” she mumbled, suddenly at a loss for words, and belatedly remembered to give Laura her change. “I think that’s the right amount.”
“It is,” Laura confirmed. “We’re on our way over to Harry’s to grab some lunch. Could I leave the strawberries here and pick them up when we’re done?”
“That will be fine,” Marsha assured her.
“Thanks.” Laura started to move away from the counter, then paused when she saw Sebastian selecting a handful of strawberries. “What are you doing?”
“A little something to whet our appetites.” His mouth slanted in a lazy smile. “Allie won’t miss these few.”
When he finally turned away, he held a half dozen berries in the cup of his hand. Laura sketched a farewell wave to the woman and pushed her way out the door.
Somehow Sebastian managed to reach the pickup ahead of her and opened the driver’s side door. “Thanks,” Laura said, but he stopped her before she could slide behind the wheel.
“Have a strawberry.” He offered one to her, holding it by its green cap.
Rather than allow him to feed it to her, Laura took the plump berry from his fingers and bit into it. She hadn’t expected it to be so juicy. She hurriedly reached up to catch the drips before they fell onto her clothes.
