by Bobbi Smith
"You say we got company coming?" Tom said, looking up from his desk, where he'd been doing some paperwork.
"Looks like Rev. Chandler is riding in," he told him.
"I wonder what brings Paul out this way. I hope nothing's wrong in town." Tom got up slowly and headed outside to greet his guests.
Hunt deliberately went in the opposite direction, out the back door, and returned to the stable. He'd let his father handle whatever it was they wanted.
"Afternoon, ladies, Paul," he said, smiling up at them as the buckboard drew to a stop before the house. "What brings you to these parts?"
"Thought you might be missing me, Tom," Paul returned with a chuckle as he jumped down and turned to help Glynna and Mimi descend.
"That I have been." He laughed. "I miss those Sunday sermons of yours.. .and a good card game, too."
Paul clapped the elderly man on the back. "I've got two friends here I'd like you to meet, Tom. Ladies, this is Tom McAllister, a very dear friend of mine. Tom, this is Mrs. Mary Catherine Randall and her niece, Miss Glynna Williams."
"Why, it's right nice to meet you," Tom said.
"It's nice to meet you, too. We've heard a lot about you from Paul," Glynna told him.
Devilment twinkled in Tom's blue eyes. "You have, have you? I'm not sure that's such a good thing."
Mimi and Glynna laughed. They immediately both decided they liked him.
"If there was anything bad to know about you, Paul didn't tell us," Glynna confided.
"Well, good. I can rest easy then. Come on inside and relax a bit. That's a goodly drive out from town."
"Oh, but it was a beautiful drive," Glynna said, staring excitedly around at the ranch, trying to take it all in.
The house was a basic two-story building, not fancy in any way, with a simple porch across the front. There were several outbuildings, a large stable and corrals.
Tom glanced at Glynna in surprise. "Beautiful, heh? I would have taken you for a city girl."
"I am, but I can appreciate beauty when I see it."
He was pleased with her answer as he led the way indoors. He was moving slowly, as if every step pained him. "I'm curious, Paul. What brings you out here?"
"You don't think I came just to see you?"
"Old sinner that I am, it's a possibility, but I doubt you came this far with these lovely ladies just to save my soul," he joked.
"I'd drive for a week to save your soul, Tom, but I think you're in reasonably good shape with God," Paul returned good-naturedly.
"I hope so."
"Well, Tom, to tell you the truth, we have a celebrity of sorts with us here."
"Oh?" He glanced at him, curious.
"Glynna is an artist. She's making quite a name for herself back east painting pictures of the Wild West, and she's come to Texas to do us justice."
"Have a seat," Tom offered, gesturing them into the small parlor.
Glynna and Mimi settled on the sofa while Tom and Paul sat in the two chairs facing them.
"So you're an artist, are you, missy?"
"Yes, sir I'm trying."
"No `sir.' I'm just Tom."
Glynna smiled sweetly at him.
"How'd you come to Dry Creek?"
Paul explained their trip to him. "So I was trying to think of a place where she could safely ride out into the countryside and do some painting, and I thought of the Rocking M. I was hoping you'd be agreeable."
"Of course. That'd be fine. We'd be honored." He smiled at Glynna. "I'll have to find somebody else to ride out with you, though. I'm not sitting my horse much these days."
"Have you been doing what the doe said?" Paul asked, concerned. He could tell that his friend's health was not good. He was a frail shadow of the robust man he used to be.
"He can't do anything for me. I'm just getting old, is all. It's a good thing my boy's back. He's been a big help to me."
"I heard the talk that he'd returned."
"I missed him. I'm glad he's here."
"So am I," Paul said seriously, knowing how much it meant to the old man to have his son, Hunt, home again. They'd had a rough life, and he was glad that things were working out for them now. "Is he here? We could introduce him to Mary Catherine and Glynna."
"He was a minute ago. I guess he went back out to the stable. Let me go see if I can find him. He'd be the one to take the ladies out, since I can't. I'll be right back." Tom left them for a moment as he went outside.
"He's such a nice man," Glynna said when he'd gone out of earshot.
"Tom's all right," he agreed. "His life hasn't been easy, but he's made the best of it."
"Is he married?"
"He was years ago, but his wife died. She was Comanche. A lot of people hated him for marrying an Indian."
"So his son's half-Indian?" Glynna asked, glancing at her aunt.
Mimi met her gaze, and they both wondered.
"Yes."
"What's his name?" Mimi asked.
They heard Tom come back inside, and he appeared in the doorway with Hunt by his side.
Glynna's eyes widened at the sight of him. He seemed to fill the whole doorway and almost dwarfed his father. Where Tom seemed old and bent, Hunt was tall and virile and exuded a sense of power. He looked different today, more civilized. He was fully clad, his shirt fitting him tightly across his broad chest. His blue-eyed gaze was sharp. He missed nothing, yet his expression revealed little of what he was really thinking.
"Hunt, you know Rev. Chandler, and these two ladies are friends of his from back east. This is Mrs. Randall and Miss Williams. Ladies, this is my son, Hunt McAllister."
Hunt was irritated. The last thing he'd wanted to do was see Glynna again. His dream the night before had been enough to drive him to drink, and he wanted to push all thoughts of her from his mind. He didn't want to see her again or be near her. She was beauty and innocence, and beauty and innocence had no place in his life. He'd tried to convince his father that he was busy in the stable and didn't have time for social visits, but his father had insisted that he come meet the two women.
"We've already met," Hunt said flatly.
Tom cast a quick, surprised glance at him. "You have? When?"
"Your son was kind enough to come to our rescue, Tom," Glynna spoke up, smiling at them. "Our stage had been robbed, and the outlaws had set our team loose. Hunt showed up and helped our driver find them."
"That was kind of you, Hunt," Paul told him.
"You never said anything to me about that," Tom said, looking at him with pride.
Hunt acted indifferent. "I was out hunting strays. I just happened upon the ladies where they were stranded out on the road and managed to find the team without too much trouble."
"We appreciated your help," Mimi put in. "Without you, we might still be sitting there waiting for someone to show up."
"Hunt, Miss Williams is an artist. She paints pictures of the West, and Paul here was wondering if you'd have time to take her out around the ranch and let her do some painting."
'No."
He answered so quickly, the others were shocked.
Tom frowned. "No?"
"I can't take any time off from working the stock." His tone was as curt as his expression was cold. "It's the busy time of the year around here. There's too much to be done."
"You can't spare a day or two?" Tom pressed.
"You can get one of the hired hands to do it. I haven't got the time." He started to turn away, then realized his father was angry with him. "Ladies." He nodded politely toward them. "Reverend."
With that, Hunt was gone.
"Well, I'm sorry about that," Tom apologized, confused by his son's abrupt departure. "I thought sure he'd have time enough to help you out a bit."
"That's all right, Tom. I was afraid we'd be imposing on you," Paul said, knowing the old man was embarrassed.
"You're not imposing on me. I'd be delighted to have you here. It's just Hunt. He's single-minded about some things, and he's been working the her
d for several weeks now."
Glynna had been taken aback by Hunt's coldness. She'd known he wasn't friendly from the way he'd acted when they'd been with the stage. Today, how ever, he'd just dismissed them as if they didn't exist, and that annoyed her.
"I'm sorry if we bothered him," Glynna said tightly.
"Don't worry about Hunt. I'm sure one of the other boys would be glad to take you out. We've got room for both of you here at the main house, if you'd like to stay on for a while. I can arrange things for you with Maria, our cook. I'm sure she'd be happy to have some female company for a change."
Mimi and Glynna exchanged glances, and Mimi quickly asked before Glynna could say anything, "Are you sure we wouldn't be putting you out any?"
"No. It'd be a pleasure to have you. Paul, you can stay on, too, if you want," Tom invited, believing the women would feel more comfortable having him close by, since they knew him.
"It's up to you, ladies. Would you like to spend some time here at the Rocking M?" Paul asked. "We can ride back into town, get your things and come back out tomorrow."
"That would be wonderful," Mimi answered.
She had a feeling her niece would just as soon have packed up everything and left Dry Creek, judging from the tension she felt between her and Hunt, but she also knew Glynna was intrigued with the man. Why else had she been so intense while painting his picture? She wanted to throw the two together and see what happened.
"What about you, Paul?" Glynna spoke up.
"I can come along. It would give me a chance to minister to folks out this way, while you're painting." Paul was surprised that he found himself agreeing to stay at the ranch with them.
"That sounds just fine," Tom said, smiling. It would be good to have the reverend's company for a few days, and he certainly wouldn't complain about having two pretty women around the place. "I'll talk to the men and see who we can spare to take you out riding."
"We certainly appreciate all your help, Tom," Mimi said.
"My pleasure, believe me."
Their plans made, Tom invited them to stay on for the noon meal. Hunt did not come back to the house while they were there. They ate without him; then Paul, Mimi and Glynna headed back to town.
"Hunt McAllister is certainly an interesting man," Mimi said, curious to find out if Paul knew any more about him than he'd already told them.
"He's a hard one to figure," Paul said, "being a halfbreed and all."
"He doesn't seem very friendly," Glynna put in.
"He isn't too fond of white folks."
"And I take it white folks aren't too fond of him?" Mimi asked.
"There's prejudice, that's for sure."
"I had the feeling he wasn't too fond of anybody," Glynna remarked. She had yet to see the man smile.
"Well, you don't have to worry about him. He won't be bothering you any." Paul wanted to put her mind at ease about Tom's son. "There was a bad incident back when he was just a boy, and ever since then he steers clear of doing much socializing."
"What happened?"
"I didn't know Tom or Hunt then. It happened in another town. Tom's moved on since then and bought this ranch, but back there, some boys beat Hunt up for supposedly attacking their sister."
"Attacking their sister?" Glynna repeated, stunned. "Why would he do something like that?"
"I don't think he did, but I wasn't there and have only heard the talk about it. I think he was all of about fifteen, and some girl accused him of trying to rape her. Her brothers beat him pretty badly, and then her father came after him, wanting to kill him. He ran off. Tom told me he went to live with his mother's people for a few years, then drifted for quite a while before coming back here to help him."
"Hunt's lucky he got away from that girl's father," Mimi remarked.
"I know. They probably would have shot him or strung him up. Tom rarely talks about those times, but I know it scarred him and the boy. That's why it doesn't surprise me that Hunt mostly keeps to himself. I think he's happiest that way. As lonely as Tom was for all those years, I'm just glad Hunt came back to help his father now that he needs him."
"Well, it's no wonder that I mistook him for an Indian the other day when he rescued me from that longhorn," Glynna said thoughtfully.
"Hunt rescued you from a longhorn, too?" Paul looked at her in surprise.
She quickly explained their first encounter to him, how she'd wandered away from the stage to sketch. "Yes, Hunt wasn't wearing a shirt, and he came riding at me at top speed. It scared me to death. I didn't even know the bull was there. All I knew was that a man who looked like a warrior was about to grab me up and carry me off."
"It's a good thing he did."
"Yes, it was. I might not be here talking to you if he hadn't."
She fell silent then, thinking of the man who'd saved her from certain harm, and wondering how he could possibly have attacked a young girl when he'd been just a boy himself. For all that he had been cold and less than friendly to them, he had put himself at risk to save her life. That wasn't the action of a man who would harm a woman.
"I'm sure your judgment is right about him," she went on. "He may not like us very much, and judging from the way other whites have treated him, it's no wonder he keeps a distance."
"He's a quiet one, that's for sure," Paul said. "But he's taking care of Tom, and that's what's important to me."
"Tom's seriously ill?"
"I'm afraid so. I talked to the doe about him last time I saw him in town, and he said there's nothing much he can do for Tom. It's his heart."
"That's too bad. He seems like a wonderful man," Mimi said.
"He is a good man. I think you're going to enjoy getting to know him better."
"Maybe he'll let me paint a portrait of him as a way of thanking him for his hospitality."
Mimi looked at her, pleased. "That's a wonderful idea, darling."
"Good. I'll do it."
It was dusk before Hunt returned to the house. He was quiet as he sat down to have dinner with his father.
"They'll be back tomorrow, and they'll be staying for several days," Tom told him.
Hunt merely grunted, trying not to act as if he cared one way or the other.
"You know, you could have been a little more sociable while they were here today. Especially since you'd already met them."
"It didn't matter. Rev. Chandler brought them to see you, not me."
"You're my son. I expect you to be a little more mannerly to them while they're staying here with us.
"I'll see what I can do," he replied evasively, quickly trying to think of jobs he could do that would keep him away from the ranch house during the duration of their stay.
Tom was sad as he looked at his son. Hunt had grown into a fine young man, but all the troubles he'd had growing up had hurt him. Tom knew that except for himself, Hunt didn't trust anyone. He supposed that was only natural, considering the life he'd led. He only wished he could have made things better for him. He'd tried his best, but his best just hadn't been good enough. His boy had been hurt, and there had been nothing he could do to stop it.
"I'd appreciate it. Paul's a good friend. If he wants our help with this, it's the least we can do. I'll have Diego take the women out and show them around. I think they'll be safe enough with him."
"He'll do fine," Hunt said quickly. As long as he wasn't involved, he didn't care.
"You don't think he's too young?" Tom knew the youth was only thirteen.
"He knows the ranch. It'll make him feel important to be showing the ladies around."
"That settles it then. I'll tell him tonight so he can start thinking about the best places to take them. You got any ideas?"
Hunt wanted to say, "As far away from me as possible," but he didn't. "She'd probably like it out by the river. The view is good there. I'd warn Diego not to ride too far out."
"Don't worry. I'll tell him. The last thing the two of them need is more trouble. After being held up on the stage, guess t
hey've had enough excitement. We don't need to take any chances that they might run into a band of renegades. It's been quiet since that last raid, but there's no telling when they might attack again."
They concentrated on their dinner then, the conversation turning to other things. Hunt was glad for the chance to talk about the herd and ranch business. He wanted the distraction. The thought that Glynna was going to be back the following day and would be staying under their roof left him restless. He was going to be glad when she'd gotten her look at the Texas countryside and headed off again to wherever she was going next. The farther away from him she was, the better.
That night before going to bed, Hunt had another shot of whiskey. He didn't want the dream to return.
Paul found himself looking forward to spending the time out at Tom's. He didn't ask himself why. He just packed what he needed and was ready to go first thing the next morning. Paul told several of his congregation where he was going to be in case they needed him for anything, and then he loaded up the buckboard and headed off to pick up the women.
"Good morning, Glynna," Paul greeted her when he found her waiting for him in the small hotel lobby. "Is your aunt about ready to go?"
"She'll be down in a minute. She just had a few more things to pack."
Paul found himself smiling in spite of himself. One thing he remembered about Mary Catherine was that she always made an entrance. He supposed some things never changed.
"Are these your trunks?" There were two good-size trunks near her, and he was surprised that she traveled with so much.
"Yes. Only one is for clothes, though," she told him with a smile. "The other is for all my supplies."
"I was wondering how many dresses you needed for the trip." He grinned back at her.
Paul hefted one trunk and carried it outside to load it on the buckboard. When he came back in, Mary Catherine was descending the stairs with the hotel owner, smiling at him as he carried her things for her.
Paul felt a twinge of some emotion as he watched Mary Catherine with the other man, and he tried to ignore it. She was as lovely as he remembered, but there was nothing left between them. He'd seen to that, and he had no right to hope otherwise.
Paul knew that since he'd first seen her during the service on Sunday, there had been moments when it had almost seemed as if they'd never been apart that all the years hadn't passed. But every time he'd allowed his thoughts to drift that way, he'd brought himself up short. He did so now again, turning his full attention back to Glynna.
