Chapter
Sixteen
The first rays of sunrise poured through the
bedroom window. Conscious of the glare of it against his eyelids,
Sebastian turned over and punched the pillow under him, bolstering
its thickness. The muffled sound of footsteps came from the
hallway, signaling he wasn’t the only one in this house of early
risers who was awake. For a moment he lay there, listening to the
quick tattoo of the footsteps descending the stairs.
Giving up any thought that he might go
back to sleep, he threw back the covers and rolled out of bed.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, he padded over to the closet,
briefly surveyed the clothes on hangers, and picked up the suitcase
on the closet floor. He placed it on the bed and flipped it open,
then walked to the chest of drawers.
More footsteps moved along the hall and
stopped at his door. A knuckle rapped twice against it, and the
latch clicked as the door swung open.
Trey poked his head into the room. “I
thought I heard you moving around in here. We’re moving cattle this
morning. I thought I’d see if you wanted to—” He broke off in
mid-sentence the instant he noticed the suitcase lying open on the
bed. “You aren’t thinking of leaving just when things are about to
heat up, are you?” There was something of a challenge in his
question.
Sebastian paused, sending him a curious
look. “I beg your pardon.”
“We’re going to have company tonight,”
Trey told him. “Crockett’s flying in. I have the feeling a little
blackbird called Tara might have told him you were
here.”
“In that case, it might be better for
all concerned if I leave.”
“It might.” Trey stepped into the room
and leaned his tall shape against the doorframe, loosely folding
his arms in front of him. “Personally, though, I’m hoping he’ll
screw up. That isn’t likely to happen if you’re gone.”
“Are you hoping we’ll get into a
physical fight over your sister’s hand?” Sebastian mocked
lightly.
“Knowing Laura, she’d like that. No,
it’ll be enough if you just get under his skin.” Trey pushed away
from the door and walked to the bed. “If he’s the bastard I think
he is, he’ll take care of the rest himself. It’s for sure you won’t
be needing this.” He closed the suitcase, checked to make sure it
was securely latched, and carried it to the closet. After a scan of
the clothes hanging up, he turned. “If you’re going with me, you’d
better put on those jeans you wore yesterday. If you wear any of
those,” he jerked a thumb in the direction of the closet, “you’re
likely to scare the cattle.”
“You are making the assumption that I’m
staying,” Sebastian observed dryly.
Trey paused with one hand on the
doorknob. There was something about the calm steadiness of his gaze
that reminded Sebastian of the elder Calder. “Aren’t
you?”
The lazy challenge made Sebastian
smile. “It would seem so.” He pushed the drawer shut and walked
over to retrieve the Levis.
“We’ll pull out as soon as you come
down,” Trey informed him. “I’ve got a thermos of coffee in the
truck, and I’ll have Allie throw a breakfast sandwich together for
you.”
Sebastian spared a glance at the dawn
blush outside his window. “Tell me, is it tradition that a cowboy
must be in the saddle before the sun is up.”
“You could call it that, I suppose,”
Trey again. “But for something to become a tradition out here,
there’s always a good reason for it. In this case, when you’re
moving a herd of cows from one pasture to another, it’s easier to
make the gather early, before the calves nurse and cows scatter to
graze. This way you have a better chance of arriving with your herd
intact. See you downstairs.” With that he exited the room, leaving
Sebastian to dress.
Laura didn’t get out of bed until
nearly eleven o’clock. It was closer to eleven-thirty when she came
downstairs. After a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, she placed
a call to Boone, only to be informed by the Mexican housekeeper
that neither Senor Max nor Senor Boone was in.
With Sebastian off somewhere with Trey,
Laura opted to visit her Aunt Cat Echohawk rather than while away
the afternoon at The Homestead by herself. Between catching up on
the latest news about Quint and discussing possible wedding plans,
it was four o’clock before she set off to make the hour-long drive
back to the Triple C.
When she pulled into the ranch yard,
Laura spotted Sebastian and Trey walking up the incline to The
Homestead. She honked the horn as she drove by them, then parked
near the base of the veranda steps and climbed out to wait for
them. A smile curved her mouth when she noticed both the telltale
red of a sunburn and the stiff way Sebastian was
walking.
“You seem to be moving a little
gingerly, Sebastian. Have a few sore muscles, do you?” Laura
teased.
“More than a few, I suspect,” he
admitted with an airy honesty. “This is the first time I have spent
an entire day astride a horse.”
“Poor man. Too bad Grizwold isn’t here
to draw you a hot bath so you can soak away some of that
soreness.”
“There is much to recommend the
comforts of Crawford Hall,” Sebastian declared on an exaggeratedly
wistful note.
The front door opened behind Laura, but
she was too accustomed to the comings and goings of people at The
Homestead to pay any attention to it. “I guess you’ll have to
settle for a hot shower,” she told Sebastian. “But you’re going to
need some lotion for that sunburn.”
As she turned to climb the steps, her
gaze lifted. Surprise brought her to a complete stop when she saw
Boone standing at the top, a dark impatience glittering in his eyes
and a hint of grimness around his mouth.
Recovering from that initial shock, she
glided up the steps and into his arms, all smiles. “Boone, darling.
When you did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.” His hands gripped
her upper arms, his look softening when he met her upturned gaze.
Then it hardened once more when his glance flicked past her to
Sebastian.
“Why didn’t you call and let me know
you were coming?” The protest was nothing more than a ploy to
reclaim his attention. “Not that it matters. I’m just glad you’re
here.”
“It’s my fault, Sis,” Trey spoke.
“Boone called last night to say he was flying in this afternoon. I
took off this morning and forgot to leave the message for
you.”
“There was no harm done. Was there?”
When Laura looked to Boone for confirmation of her claim, he was
staring at Sebastian.
“I didn’t think you’d have the guts to
show up here, Dunshill,” Boone said tightly, then allowed a cold
smile to twist his mouth. “You’re a little late, though. Laura’s
marrying me.”
She laughed softly. “How very macho you
sound, Boone. After you see what he brought, you’re going to be
glad he came. Come on.” She linked an arm with his. “Let’s go
inside so I can show you.”
She ushered Boone into the house,
trailed by Sebastian and Trey, the sound of their footsteps
accompanied by the jingle of Trey’s spurs. In the living room she
stopped and placed a detaining hand on Boone’s broad
chest.
“You wait here and I’ll bring it down.”
As she crossed to the staircase, Laura threw a glance at her
brother. “Give me a hand, will you, Trey?”
“Sure,” he agreed and lengthened his
stride to catch up with her.
Sebastian paused in the living room and
slipped off the straw Resistol. Reaching up, he combed his fingers
through the sides of his hair, flattened by the hatband. All the
while he visually tracked Laura’s ascent of the stairs, he was
conscious of Boone’s gaze boring into him, but he chose not to
acknowledge it. With each passing second the silence in the room
thickened.
The instant Laura disappeared from
sight, it was broken. “I don’t give a damn what you brought,
Dunshill.” Boone’s low voice vibrated with anger. “You’re not
wanted here. Unfortunately, Laura is too polite to tell you to hit
the road.”
Sebastian smiled without humor and sent
him a sideways glance. “But you are bound by no such constraints,
are you?”
“Your fancy talking doesn’t impress me.
Neither does your title,” Boone retorted. “We both know you’re
after one thing—to con Laura out of her money. Haven’t you figured
it out yet that Laura is wise to you?”
“Oh yes.” Sebastian nodded. “She’s made
that abundantly clear.”
“Then get yourself on the next plane
out of here,” Boone growled as footsteps and jangling spurs came
from the upper hall.
Sebastian merely smiled. “All in good
time, old boy.”
Laura’s reappearance at the top of the
steps, accompanied by Trey carrying the framed painting, forced
Boone to bite back any sharp retort he might have been inclined to
make. She ran lightly down and across the room to Boone, slipping
an arm around his waist and fitting herself to his
side.
“Look.” With an outstretched hand, she
indicated the painting that Trey held up to view. “The portrait of
Lady Elaine. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It certainly is.” A little tightness
remained in the smile Boone gave her. It went with the resentment
in the glance he sent Sebastian. “That was very generous of you,
Dunshill.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Laura agreed and
turned a curious look on Sebastian. “Considering how desperate you
are for cash, I don’t understand why you didn’t call Max. As
interested as he was in acquiring the portrait, you could have sold
it to him for considerably more than its worth. Why didn’t
you?”
“If I’d wanted him to own it, I would
have,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “But I preferred that you have
it.”
“I’m glad you did. I absolutely love
it,” Laura declared, her attention once again on the portrait that
bore such a striking resemblance to her.
“I think we should hang it above the
fireplace at the Slash R, don’t you?” Boone’s remark was far from
an idle one. It was a pointed reminder of his pending marriage to
Laura.
“That might seem a little vain,” Laura
suggested. “But we’ll find the perfect place for it.”
“While you two thrash out where the
portrait is to be hung, I think I’ll make good use of the shower
facilities.” Excusing himself, Sebastian crossed to the
stairs.
“That goes for me, too,” Trey said and
lifted a hand to Boone. “See you later at dinner.”
Laura covered their departure by giving
Boone an embracing squeeze. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Dunshill was
here?” His sharp gaze searched her face.
“When did I have a chance?” she
countered in wide-eyed innocence. “I was out when you called me,
and you were gone when I called you back.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t show him the
door, considering what you know about him.”
“But, darling,” Laura turned into his
arms and ran her fingers along the open front of his shirt collar,
“I couldn’t be that rude, not when he gave me the painting of Lady
Elaine.”
“Just how long has he been
here?”
“A couple of days,” Laura answered with
a shrug. “Hardly long enough to get over his jet lag. More
important,” she said, linking her fingers behind his neck and
arching against him, “how long will you be staying?”
“I’m not leaving until he does.” It was
a flat, hard statement.
Laura’s smile widened. “In that case,
I’ll make sure he stays a long time.”
“Dammit, Laura.” The words came from
him in an explosive burst.
She tipped her head back and laughed
low in her throat. “Really, darling, you can’t possibly be jealous
of him. Not now.” Rising on her tiptoes, she rubbed her moist lips
over the tight line of his mouth until his arms circled her and
crushed her in a hard, claim-staking embrace.
Laura couldn’t say why she was
reluctant to send Sebastian on his way. It would have been an easy
thing to do. She suspected it was a natural resistance on her part
to having someone else impose his will on her.
She suggested as much to Tara the
following day when she and Boone spent the afternoon poolside at
Tara’s summer home in Wolf Meadow. When someone from the ranch in
Texas called Boone on his cell phone, Tara had used the private
moment with Laura to remark, “I imagine Boone was upset when he
discovered Sebastian was at the ranch.”
“He definitely wasn’t happy.” Laura
rubbed a generous amount of sunscreen lotion on her
leg.
“I’m surprised he didn’t insist that
you ask Sebastian to leave.”
“He tried,” Laura replied. “But he
needs to learn that I won’t be pressured into doing
things.”
“Don’t be foolish, Laura,” Tara stated
with unexpected sharpness. “The pressure is coming from Max. You
can never butt heads with Max Rutledge and win.”
With a little shock, Laura realized
that Tara was right, both in her identification of the source and
her assessment of the outcome. “I’ll figure out a way to handle
him.” Laura didn’t kid herself that it would be easy.
“Laura,” Tara said in warning, but she
was prevented from saying more by Boone’s return, his phone call
finished.
“Everything all right at the ranch?”
Laura recapped the lotion bottle and set it on the pool deck next
to her chair.
“No major problems.”
“Good.” Her smile was quick and warm.
“I have a suggestion to make. Why don’t we go out to dinner
tonight? Just the two of us.”
“That would be a change,” he replied
dryly.
“That’s what I thought.”
Tara allowed a little frown to mar her
smooth forehead. “But where will you go?”
“Harry’s, of course.”
“Harry’s!” Tara repeated in
distaste.
“I know it’s a far cry from the Mansion
on Turtle Creek, but they do serve a good steak,” Laura replied and
swung her long legs off the lounge chair. “I’m going to cool off in
the pool. Join me?” she said, issuing the invitation to
Boone.
“I’m right behind you.”
In the purpling twilight of evening,
the huge neon sign mounted atop the porch roof glowed a gaudy
green, proclaiming in gigantic capital letters that it was the site
of Harry’s Hideaway. The hiss and sizzle from the neon tubing
dominated the stillness when Sebastian stepped from the ranch
pickup. His glance strayed to a second vehicle parked in the lot,
its doors emblazoned with the distinctive Triple C
brand.
“I suspect Laura will not be very
pleased to see us,” he said to Trey when he climbed out of the
driver’s side and gave the door a closing push.
Trey shook his head in mild
disagreement. “Crockett will be the one with his nose out of joint.
Laura will be amused, wondering if fists will fly.” Trey headed for
the entrance, mounting the porch steps two at time. “Don’t get
suckered into one if you can avoid it. That would be playing into
Crockett’s hands.”
“Why do you call him Crockett?”
Sebastian wondered.
“It’s a family joke.” Trey opened the
door and held it for Sebastian, letting him enter first, then
followed him inside. “Welcome to Harry’s.” Amusement gleamed in his
brown eyes. “I was told it wouldn’t be anything like one of your
English pubs.”
To the left was the dining area, the
source of the food smells and the muted clatter of dishes. Most of
its tables were empty, but Sebastian’s searching glance easily
located Laura and Boone seated at a secluded table, separate from
the half dozen other diners. Despite the low lights, Sebastian knew
the instant she noticed him. It was almost a tangible thing. Any
chance that it was wishful thinking on his part was eliminated when
Boone’s dark head swung around to face the door.
Trey raised an acknowledging hand in
Laura’s direction and struck out for the bar area on the right. It
was dimly lit except for the brightly colored jukebox along the
front wall and the hanging lights over the twin pool
tables.
“Grab a table,” Trey said as he
branched off toward the silent jukebox.
None were occupied, giving Sebastian an
ample choice. He picked the nearest one and pulled out a chair.
Taking a seat, he glanced briefly at the two men hunched over their
drinks at the end of the long bar. Behind him, the jukebox came to
life, filling the half-dead bar with a lively country music
tune.
Seconds later Trey joined him, swinging
a leg over the chair back and lowering himself onto the seat. “That
oughta wake up everybody.”
The swinging doors to the kitchen swept
open, and a short, heavyset man in an apron bustled over to their
table, took their order for two beers, and bustled behind the bar
to fill them.
With an effort, Sebastian kept his
glance from straying to Laura’s table. “Is it usually this quiet?”
he asked to make conversation.
“It livens up a little on Saturday
night,” Trey told him. “Back in Gramps’ day, this used to be a
roadhouse, complete with poker games in the backroom and a pair of
soiled doves upstairs.”
The man hustled back with two frosty
mugs of beer, set them down, and scooped up the money Trey shoved
onto the table. “I’ll be back in the kitchen for a little bit. If
you need anything else, just holler. That’s what everybody else
does.”
“Will do.” Trey nodded, took a swig of
beer, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, blotting
away the traces of foam. He slid a questioning look at Sebastian.
“Do you dance?”
Sebastian smiled. “Are you asking? If
you are, you should know that I prefer to lead.”
Trey laughed, strong and hearty.
“Wouldn’t we look cute?” he declared and shook his head, the
laughter still there, under the surface. “Actually, I had something
else in mind. There’s a slow song coming up next. I thought you
could ask Laura to dance. It’s a passion of hers.”
“I know,” Sebastian said.
The remark drew an assessing look from
Trey, but no direct comment. “If Crockett knows anything other than
the two-step or the box step, I’ll be surprised. What about
you?”
“Laura is fully aware that I can dance,
if that was your thought.”
“It was only half of it,” Trey replied.
“Me, I know a couple variations on the box step and that’s about
it. It really grates to watch some other guy make it look
effortless, especially if he’s dancing with my girl.”
The hard-driving song on the jukebox
ended in a crescendo of drums and guitars. The noiseless void
lasted only seconds before the lilting strains of a waltz came over
the speakers.
“That’s your cue,” Trey said and shot a
look at his sister’s table, then swore under his breath. “Too late.
I think they’re leaving.”
Turning his head, Sebastian saw Laura
moving toward them with a model’s grace, the pale gold of her hair
catching the shine of the interior lights. There was something
almost regal about her carriage that came across as a kind of
innate elegance, transcending the simplicity of her dress. He felt
a pride in her that could have been stronger only if he were the
man walking with her instead of Boone Rutledge.
Instead of veering off toward the front
door, the couple continued toward them. “Well, what do you know,”
Trey murmured. “I think he asked her to dance.”
Arriving at the small dance floor,
Laura made a swinging turn into Boone’s hold, her left hand gliding
onto his shoulder. It was Sebastian who watched with envy as Boone
held her close, shuffling his feet and making no attempt at waltz
steps. And Laura didn’t seem to care.
Stool legs scraped the floor near the
long bar, Sebastian took little notice of it, or of the footsteps
moving in the general direction of the pool tables.
One set of footsteps stopped, and a
man’s voice spoke loudly, “Well, lookee there. If it ain’t that
smart-mouthed Calder bitch.”
A burly, dark-haired man with a
half-empty beer mug in his hand stood near the edge of the dance
floor, a look of utter loathing in his expression. If either Laura
or Boone reacted to the man’s remark, Sebastian didn’t see
it.
Trey nudged his arm. “That’s Mitchell,”
he murmured.
Sebastian made the connection to the
abused woman instantly.
As if determined to get a rise out of
the couple on the dance floor, Mitchell jeered, “What’re ya’ doing
here? I thought you and your fancy man got your kicks barging into
people’s houses uninvited.”
This time Laura retaliated. “If I find
out you’ve hit your wife again, it’s the police who’ll be barging
in.”
“That was an accident. You ask my wife;
she’ll tell you,” Mitchell insisted with an indignant
anger.
“Only because you’ll beat her again if
she doesn’t,” Laura retorted, giving up any pretense of
dancing.
Mitchell took a threatening step
forward. “Listen, you stupid little bitch—”
“You don’t talk to her like that.”
Boone moved into his path, a hand shooting out to shove Mitchell
back.
In a sudden fury, Mitchell threw the
contents of his mug in Boone’s face and laughed at the sight of
Boone shaking his head and wiping the beer from his eyes. The
laughter acted like a goad. Boone lashed out, a fist connecting
with the side of Mitchell’s face, staggering him.
When Boone moved in, Mitchell swung the
heavy mug at his head. The force of the impact knocked him
sideways. Laura cried out, and Sebastian and Trey came out of their
chairs as one. Dazed, Boone attempted to shake off the effects of
the blow and barely managed to dodge a second swing of the beer
mug.
Laura was all ready to throw herself at
Mitchell when Trey grabbed the arm that wielded the beer mug, and
Sebastian caught the other one. “That’s enough, Mitchell,” Trey
warned.
“He started it,” Mitchell flared. “I
was only defending myself.”
There was no chance for a response as
Boone came at Mitchell, taking full advantage of the fact his arms
were being held. He slammed a fist into his stomach. The instant,
Mitchell doubled over, Boone unleashed an uppercut that snapped
Mitchell backward.
Laura threw herself in front of Boone,
gripping his upper arms in an attempt to hold him off. “What are
you thinking?”
“He needs to be taught a lesson he
won’t forget,” Boone growled in answer.
“Not this way,” she stated and threw a
glance over her shoulder as Sebastian and Trey succeeded in lifting
the semiconscious man onto a chair.
The commotion had drawn the owner from
the kitchen. “What’s going on here?” he asked, but none too sure he
wanted to know.
“Just a little misunderstanding. It’s
over now,” Trey replied. “Get some whiskey.”
The owner hustled toward the bar while
Mitchell’s beer-drinking buddy remained where he had been, halfway
between the bar and the pool tables, quietly taking it all
in.
“He’s all right, isn’t he?” Laura
asked.
“He will be,” Trey said as Mitchell
groggily lifted his head and raised a hand to his sore
chin.
It took a second for his eyes to focus
clearly. When they did, he searched out Boone. “That was assault.
I’m gonna sue you Calders for every dime you’ve got. Don’t think I
won’t”
“You just try it,” Boone
snarled.
“Come on. I want to go home.” Laura
made a determined effort to turn Boone toward the
door.
“You go on home,” Mitchell taunted.
“And stay the hell away from mine.”
Laura could feel the bunching of
Boone’s muscles. “Darling, please,” she murmured insistently. “I
want to get out of here.”
With obvious reluctance, Boone dragged
his gaze from Mitchell and curved a protective arm around her. He
escorted her to the door, tossed some bills on the counter to cover
the cost of their meal, and opened the door for her.