"She didn't want to lose the money you were sending her," Sloan observed. "Her demands were certainly not because she had any affection towards the child."
"This is true; however, I did not recognize it for what it was at the time. I sent a portion of my inheritance—a small fortune—to the bank, with a conservator to distribute it to Imelda on a monthly basis and to make certain Farbor Mansion was maintained."
"I remember that banker. He used to close the door, so that he and Imelda could argue without my hearing them," Blair said.
"He is a good man. He has located here recently and is in charge of my personal affairs. He saw the things that were occurring with you and urged me to physically come and take you. By that time, however, I was lost in gambling and drowning my sadness in whiskey. I failed you, child. Please, forgive me."
"I hold nothing Aunt Imelda did as your responsibility, Grandfather. I am just sorry all these years were lost without my knowing you."
"As am I."
"Please continue your story, Malcolm. What happened once Blair turned eighteen?" Sloan urged. He placed his hand on Blair's arm and squeezed it reassuringly.
"As I told you, I found the nuggets on the Peak. I used that money to further the spread and build this house. I wired Imelda on Blair's eighteenth birthday and demanded she be sent to me. Imelda refused, stating that the child was attending a highly regarded school for young women and that to remove her would be an act of selfishness and cruelty."
"She said that? Grandfather Malcolm, I hated that school more than her wickedness. The matrons lived to please her, which meant demeaning me. I would have given my right arm to leave that place."
"I am a foolish old man, my dear granddaughter. I wanted the best for you, and nothing less. I put forth the money to pay for your school and boarding with hopes that you would be happy."
"Boarding? I already told you that she forced me to stay at the house. Since I had to take a carriage or walk every day, half the time I went elsewhere. It was money foolishly spent, Grandfather. I am sorry."
"I am aware of that, child. I had requested an update regarding your progress and the Administrator advised me of your delinquency. I confronted Imelda and told her that if she did not see to your education, then I would send for you immediately, without consequence to her. But I also told her that if she refused to enforce this request, I would cut off the personal allowance that she received while living there."
"So you gave no penalty to her should I refuse to comply."
"No. It would not have been her fault and I did not feel it right to punish her for something you had done."
"When did this conversation occur?" Sloan asked.
"Around Blair's nineteenth birthday."
Blair looked at Sloan knowingly. "So that is the reason she was so eager to send me away so abruptly. I would no longer be a burden, and she would not lose her income. Do you think she was the one …"
Sloan's expression caused Blair to be silent about her theory that her aunt had arranged the kidnapping. "It appears that she knew she could buy some time with your long journey here. I would also not be surprised if she had requested the school matrons to be particularly harsh with you to force you to react." Sloan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "She must have pocketed quite a bit of money by cheating you of the things your grandfather wished for you."
"It is notable that, since I was expelled, it would not have been her doing. She made herself appear innocent for my lack of cooperation."
"Yes, and since I told her that she would not receive any sums if you did not attend school and do well, she assumed she had found a loophole in the agreement," Malcolm added. "Now that I know the truth, all her donations shall end immediately. I will have my conservator escort her from the property and have her placed in a work house."
"Grandfather Malcolm? If I may ask this of you?" Blair said hesitantly.
"Go ahead, Blair. You look frightened. Please, child, what do you wish of me?" the old man asked.
"Would it cause financial difficulty for you to maintain the stipend until such time as I can return to Farbor Mansion and make proper arrangements?"
"Not at all. But why would you want me to show her mercy?"
"My plans are not at all merciful, Grandfather, but they are fair."
"What are you planning, Blair? I know that look on your face all too well, girl," Sloan asked quietly, his eyebrow raised.
"I will tell you later. But first, I need some answers." Blair answered. "Grandfather Malcolm, do you have any evidence of what you are saying to be true?"
"Blair!" Sloan reprimanded.
"No, son, don't scold her. She has a right to be suspicious. Yes, darling. I have all the telegrams, letters, and messages since the moment I left Philadelphia. I am somewhat of a packrat."
"I don't mean to offend; please forgive me." Blair said politely, "and yes, I do have reason to be suspicious. Please tell me what your dealings are with the town."
"I am the primary provider of cattle and ranching jobs. I hold several water-rights and own over three thousand head of cattle," he shrugged. "I go into town now and then to play some poker and share a glass, but nothing more."
"Whom do you drink with?"
"Usually the sheriff. He and I are old friends. He was with me when your grandmother was killed."
"What?"
"We had a gang of outlaws running through the trail. They were hitting small towns, mainly bordellos, and killing off the entertainers and anyone associated with them," Malcolm said, sadly. "There was an epidemic of the chills going around, and my dear wife had brought some soup to the ladies. That was when they attacked."
"I am so sorry, Grandfather."
"Tell me, sir," Sloan asked, leaning forward, "did they attempt to implicate a local Indian tribe?"
"Why, yes," Malcolm looked surprised. He then narrowed his eyes. "How did you know?"
"I lost my first wife in the same manner down in Texas. I was a Ranger back then and investigating the case." Sloan squeezed Blair's hand, letting her know that he was not ready to reveal that he was still involved in law enforcement.
"Your poor boy," Malcolm's tone was sympathetic. "Do you know if the bandits were ever found?"
"No, not yet. Tell me," Sloan accepted the glass of lemonade brought to him by Carlos, "What would Imelda benefit by Blair's death?"
"Hmm, she would likely try to assume ownership of the house and the maintenance account. Why do you ask?"
"And you? What would you benefit?"
"Me? Absolutely nothing! These questions, sir, are offensive."
"Please forgive me," Sloan lifted his hand. "I am just concerned for her safety."
"As am I." Malcolm calmed himself. "And if you ask what is truly on your mind, the answer is yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, I do believe Imelda would attempt to dispose of the child for her own benefit. If I might offer a suggestion?"
"I'm listening."
"Have you ever run a ranch, Sloan?"
"Just a small spread. Why do you ask?"
"I will go back to Philadelphia and leave the spread in your hands while I settle affairs with the estate. This way I can keep a watchful eye on the woman and make certain she causes no mischief."
"How can you do that if the estate is owned by Blair?"
"We can have me placed as her temporary proxy. Wait," Malcolm raised his hand before Sloan had a chance to protest, "We will draw up the papers so that if anything happens to her, all rights are transferred to you. If you are killed, the house goes to the staff to share. Agreed?"
Sloan lifted his eyebrow and stood. He extended his hand. "Agreed."
"Excellent. I am tired and must retire for the night. Is there anything you will need to be comfortable?"
"Now that you ask," Sloan winked at Madeline as she entered the room with more tea, "I would like an empty water barrel brought up to our room."
"A barrel? Whatever for?" Malcolm clapped his hands to gain Carlos
' attention.
Sloan looked at him straight in the eye. "It feels good to stretch my back across it."
Malcolm lifted a brow and then offered a knowing grin. "There will be one placed there first thing in the morning, son. Anything else?"
"Maybe some rope and some salve."
Malcolm laughed as Blair turned beet-red. "Good night, children. Sleep well."
Chapter 13
"What do you think of Malcolm's story?" Blair asked as they slid into bed, both groaning with delight as their bodies sank under the cool, clean sheets set atop a soft mattress.
"I'm not convinced yet."
"I trust you," Blair said, snuggling next to his chest. "This bed feels so wonderful. I never knew how much I appreciated comfort until I got on that horrid train."
"There have been many things you did not appreciate prior to this adventure."
"Oh really?" Blair said, turning to face him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him soundly. "Would you care to tell me what you are referring to?"
"To start with," Sloan kissed her back, "me."
"I appreciate you!"
"You have grown to appreciate me. You did not feel the same when we first started out."
"This is true. What else?"
"A hot meal served on plates with cold tea."
"A hot bath with scented soaps." Blair added, dreamily.
"A roof over our head that does not harbor spiders."
"Clean, soft clothes."
"Which must be removed every time you come to bed. Starting now," Sloan said, slipping Blair's nightgown over her head. He ran his hand over her soft skin, lingering at the curves of her hips. "I definitely appreciate you."
"Sloan?"
"Yes, darling?" He rested her cheek on his shoulder and spoke into her silky hair. "What is bothering you?"
"Our lie. I do not wish to pretend to be your wife. I wish to fulfill the part in truth."
"We will have a proper wedding once we settle this issue between your aunt and grandfather. I was considering his offer. Would you rather return to Philadelphia in his place? I would go with you, of course."
"I do not ever want to see another city again for as long as I live," Blair announced, emphatically. Perhaps Grandfather Malcolm can sell Farbor Mansion and allow us to purchase a place of our own."
"We don't purchase homes out here, Blair. We build them with our own two hands."
"Very well. You know that I would live under a rock for shelter rather than return."
"You are a stubborn woman."
"One day you will grow to admire my stubbornness."
"I am sure I will," Sloan chuckled. "Sleep now. We have a long day tomorrow."
Malcolm rose from his chair as Blair joined him at the breakfast table. "You look very happy this fine morning, my dear. Sleep well?"
"She was actually up very early," Sloan chuckled, "I will see to her, Carlos. Thank you." Sloan said, holding Blair's chair.
"Such gentlemen! Sloan, please!" Blair twittered, smacking Sloan's arm as he reached under the table.
"To be young and in love," Malcolm sighed. "Would you two like to see the ranch today?"
"Thank you. That would be lovely, Grandfather. I do have a question for you."
"Yes, my dear?"
"Would it be possible to sell the Farbor estate so that we might build a home for ourselves here? We could locate property further west, and …"
"Blair, I thought I made myself clear," Malcolm interrupted. "I will move back east and assume ownership of Farbor mansion. It is my birthright and I do not wish to give it up to strangers. In exchange, I will give you this ranch and all property rights. All this will be yours."
"Dear Grandfather, to do so will result in an extreme loss of money," Blair shook her head. "You will need an income to support yourself and maintain the estate."
"I am in agreement with Blair. That is overly generous, sir," Sloan shook his head. "Neither she nor myself could accept such a gift."
"Then consider it a fair trade. You may send me a stipend from the earnings if you wish. There is still a considerable amount of money banked that will provide for the house and property, and I do not require much to be comfortable. Listen to me," the man leaned forward and tapped the table. "I am getting too old to do this work anymore. Even keeping up the books is giving me terrible headaches. I will send for the banker this afternoon so that he can go over our finances and put things in order for the exchange."
"But, Grandfather …"
"Hush now, I will hear no more about it. My mind is made up." Malcolm said, his eyes twinkling." I am also having Carlos bring your barrel to your room along with the rope you requested. If I hear any further argument, I might also have him rally a few switches. A barrel can be used in more ways than just stretching out your back, Sloan."
"Yes, sir, I am well aware of that," Sloan smiled, patting Blair's knee.
Blair sighed, "Very well, Grandfather. Thank you. I do not know how to repay you for your kindness."
"Treat this man of yours well and learn to love this land. I want nothing more."
"What will Imelda say when you arrive?" Sloan asked.
"I shall concern myself with that when it happens. Yes, Blair? You wish to say something?"
"Yes, Grandfather. If it is not too bold of me to ask, I would request that she be handled in this manner while you are present. Instead of sending her to the workhouse, would it not be more fitting to garb her in servant's clothing and move her to my old room?"
"You sinful little puss," Malcolm exclaimed, a large grin on his face. "Make her earn her coin for the first time in her life. Excellent idea, child."
"You can have the cook beat her regularly, just as she had done to Miss Blair," Madeline muttered, switching plates on the table. "I still do not understand how you were able to suffer that cruelty without a tear."
"I confess," Blair smirked, "I started sliding newssheets under my clothing to lessen the impact. You intervened more times than I could count, Madeline. I thank you for that."
"You are a spunky one, Madeline. Would you care to come with me? I will make you overseer. Or even better, lady of the house," Malcolm's eye wandered over the woman's generous curves.
Blair watched the maid blush with pleasure. "That is an excellent idea, Grandfather. Madeline, you deserve to live as lady. I beg you to consider his offer."
"What would you do without me, Miss? You need my help. I cook and sew and …"
Sloan kissed Blair's cheek. "My dear girl has learned to be quite the trail cook and keeps things very tidy for me."
"It is true, Madeline. And what I cannot do, Sloan is able. We will be fine. Please, give yourself this gift of a new life, my friend. You have earned it."
Madeline looked at Malcolm and nodded. "Yes, Miss. I will consider it. Thank you."
While Sloan and Malcolm worked out the details of running the ranch with Mr. Clay, the foreman, Blair and Madeline took a wagon into town to purchase some items for Sloan. Skinwalker snorted, his ears laid back, as they trotted passed a group of men lounging near the general store.
"Miss, that horse is unstable," Madeline said, clutching Blair's arm. "It frightens me."
"Sloan wanted us to bring him because he is very skittish around people he doesn't trust. I was also given his Colt Walker to carry."
"That gun is too large for a lady, Miss Blair! It is too dangerous!"
"I know how to fire this piece and hit a target. Sloan made certain to teach me." Blair hopped off the wagon and went to tie Skinwalker to the hitching post. She stroked his neck and handed him a piece of carrot. "I'll be right back, boy."
She lifted her chin, picked up the edges of her pale blue skirts, and walked up the stairs without paying attention to the sordid characters leaning against the wall. Her keen eye noticed several revolvers nestled in holsters and a few rifles tucked under their coats. She bristled at their low whistles, but remained silent. She entered the General Store with Madelin
e stuck to her heels.
"Good afternoon, ladies, how may I help you?" the shop's owner asked, pleasantly
While Madeline handed the proprietor a list of items needed, Blair roamed around the store, pleased to see that it was generously stocked with numerous useful items. "Pardon me? Do you have these in smaller sizes?" She held up a pair of men's work pants.
"The boys' trousers are over there. How old is he?"
"I'm not sure. He is about my size, though."
"Miss Blair, I do not think Mr. Sloan will want … Madeline began, suddenly silenced by the expression on Blair's face.
"Thank you. Please package two pairs and three shirts for me. These will do fine," Blair requested. She paid for her purchases and began to leave. She stopped and turned to the shopkeeper. "Do you carry revolvers?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I have these lovely little derringers you might like."
"Actually, sir, I would like one similar to this." She confidently placed Sloan's Colt on the counter.
The man picked it up. "Nice weapon. Where did you get it?"
"My husband."
"Is he a Ranger? Only Rangers wear a Walker"
"Retired. Now, sir, please. Do you have a revolver that I might purchase?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Got me here a brand new Colt Dragoon. Barrel is a bit shorter and not as heavy, but the aim is sweet with less kick than most shots this size. This one just came in yesterday."
"I'll take it. Ammunition, too. Thank you."
Blair loaded the gun at the counter, smiled sweetly, and walked out the door with Madeline at her side.
One of the rogues stepped in front of her. "My, my, you sure are a pretty one. Haven't seen you in these parts before." He spit on the ground.
"Excuse me, please," Blair said, as she attempted to sidestep him.
"Now, what's your hurry, honey? Why don't you set a spell and have a drink with us? Nice and friendly-like. We like to make a friendly welcome here."
Over the Barrel Page 14
