Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 (21 page)

“And certainly none of yours.”

Briana and Branch whirled around. Gavin stepped toward them from where he had been eavesdropping, behind a large shrub at the edge of the terrace.

Briana felt a mixture of anger and fright. Anger won out. “How dare you spy on me, Gavin!”

“Shut up and get back in the house,” he snapped. “I saw you sneaking out here and I figured you were up to something. I’ve been suspicious of you and this bastard for some time.”

Branch took a step forward, halting as Dirk Hollister appeared behind Mason. Dirk was carrying a shotgun, which he pointed at Branch.

“Put that away,” Branch ordered.
“Now,
Hollister. I don’t like guns pointed at me. There’s no need for this.”

“Oh, there might be, Mr. Pope,” Gavin disputed. “You see, as of this moment, you are fired. You are no longer employed here. I won’t tolerate insolence from my servants.”

Branch burst into raucous laughter, looking unflinchingly at the two men. Addressing himself directly to Gavin, in a deadly voice he said, “Hear me, boy, and hear me well. I’m the foreman of this goddamn ranch. A Coltrane hired me, and it’ll take a Coltrane to fire me. I don’t take orders from a sissy wetnose that don’t even know the difference between a steer and a cow.” He shook his head at Hollister, then looked back at Gavin. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“You might go in a wooden box,” Hollister snapped.

“Have all of you gone mad?” Briana cried. She glared at Hollister. “Put that gun away—now.”

He made no move to obey.

The cords stood out on Gavin’s neck, and his eyes were dark with rage. “I am warning you…
Dani…
” He bit out the name, pausing before continuing. “Remember our agreement. I am in charge.”

Briana lifted her head defiantly. Branch Pope had been kind to her, kinder than anyone else since she’d come to America, and she was not going to let him be hurt. “Mr. Pope stays here. He knows much more about the ranch than you or Mr. Hollister.” She met Gavin’s fiery gaze, undaunted. “Need I remind you that there is a party going on inside? We are neglecting our guests…and a shooting was
not
on the menu for tonight.”

“Put the gun away,” Gavin snarled to Hollister. “I’ll handle her later.”

To Branch, he commanded, “Get the hell out of here. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Branch nodded. “Fine. But I don’t think you’ve got anything to say that I’d be interested in hearing.” With a grateful nod to Briana, he turned and walked away.

Gavin leaped forward to grab Briana’s arm and twist it behind her back. “Have you lost your mind? If I didn’t need you, you insolent little bitch, I’d break your stupid neck here and now and leave you for the buzzard to pick.”

Despite the pain in her arm, she returned, “But you do need me, so I suggest you let me go this instant, or I am going to scream and bring everyone running out here.”

“Briana, you’re trying my—” He saw the look come over her face as her eyes went to Hollister, who was enjoying the scene. Gavin snickered at her expression. “He knows everything, so don’t worry about what I say in front of him. I had to have somebody around here I could trust—and it damn sure isn’t you.”

“Don’t worry about me sayin’ nothin’,” Hollister cackled. “I’m in for a piece of the action now, so I’m gonna be watchin’ you every bit as close as he does. One wrong move, and I’ll be on you like a coyote on a rabbit.”

Briana looked into Gavin’s evil, grinning face and knew she could stand no more. “I want out of this. I want to go back to France. I’ll put Charles’s life in God’s hands. I’ll find a way to help him without stooping to your filthy—”

Gavin twisted her arm harder, and she yelped with the excruciating pain. “Listen to me, or I’ll break your arm. You’re in this to stay. Your brother’s life is not in God’s hands; it’s in mine. You try to run away from me before I’m finished here, and I’ll see that his miserable life is ended. And you know I mean it. You’re in this to the end. You take orders from me and Hollister, and the next time you dare talk back to me in front of someone, I’ll turn you over to Hollister and let him finish what he started out there on the prairie.”

Briana was trembling, but not with fear. Oh, no, she was far too enraged to cower before those ruthless bastards. “I’ll go back inside now,” she said, “but I’m warning you, Gavin, you’d better hurry up and get us out of here. And you, Hollister, if you touch me ever again, I’ll find a way to kill you.”

She fled.

Colt slowed his horse. He had decided not to camp for the night, but to get home as soon as possible, for the closer to home he got, the more something urged him onward. He had been away far too long, had let his heart overrule his good sense.

Never again. He had come out of his time with Becky a smarter man, and more than once during the journey home, he’d recalled his father saying that even if awareness was all that came out of a bad experience, then the experience was worth something.

Now Colt stared at the ranch buildings, all looming ghostlike in the moonlight, except for the big house. Light glowed within the house. He moved his horse on, but slowly. Something was up, and he knew better than to ride into an unknown situation without being cautious.

As he drew closer, he saw there were many carriages and wagons by the house.

He dismounted at the bunkhouse, walking the rest of the way. He hadn’t gone far when he saw a man coming toward him. Instinctively his hand moved to his gun.

Branch Pope saw him, stopped only for an instant to stare in disbelief, then ran forward to pound Colt on the back jubilantly. “Hot damn!” he cried. “I ain’t never been so glad to see anybody. I was about to come get you. What’s kept—”

“What’s going on?” Colt interrupted.

Branch followed Colt’s narrow-eyed gaze toward the brightly lit house. Faintly, they heard music. “It’s a party,” he said very slowly, stepping away from his friend in case there was an explosion.

“Who’s having a party in my house?” Colt snapped.

Branch let him have it. “A party to welcome your sister.”

Colt whipped around to stare at Branch. Had he heard right?

Branch nodded. “That’s what I said. Dani’s come home—and when you hear all I’ve got to tell you, you’re going to be mighty glad you have, too.”

Chapter Thirteen

Colt spent the night in the bunkhouse, listening to what Branch had to tell him, then sorting it all out. He knew he’d better be clearheaded before encountering the half sister he’d not seen in fourteen years.

He was not surprised Dani was there. In the back of his mind he’d wondered all along whether she would take the opportunity to claim her fortune without the tension of having to see their father.

But why had she stayed? Why didn’t she just take her share of the money and go?

He had wondered before why his father didn’t just send her the money. His mother explained that she and Travis hoped to see Dani, hoped she would come to Paris to visit them once she learned they were there.

Colt was more than a little resentful that Dani could be so cold. She wanted her money, but she was too unfeeling to mend the fences and make peace with his parents.
What kind of a person is she?
he asked himself, truly astonished by her selfishness. Well, selfish or not, she was home. And he would have to deal with her.

But what the hell was her stepbrother doing sticking his nose into Coltrane family business? Who the hell did he think he was, trying to fire Branch and put a drifter in charge of things on a ranch he had no claim on?

Hollister came into the bunkhouse in the wee hours. Colt had taken a cot at the farthest end after instructing the other men to keep silent about his being there. The men were all dying to ask questions, but knew from experience that Colt was closemouthed until he decided it was time to speak. Before they had all turned in for the night, Colt had heard enough from them to know they were very resentful of the situation and hoped he would quickly put things right. He made no comment about Gavin Mason, said nothing controversial.

Early-morning sunlight streamed through the windows. The wranglers had arisen long ago, hitting the range by the time the first shadows of night yielded to daybreak.

All the wranglers, that is, except Dirk Hollister, who stayed behind, eyeing Colt’s bunk. He asked Branch why one man remained in his bunk, burrowed beneath his blanket, and Branch told him that it was a new man he’d hired, and that the man wasn’t feeling well.

“Great,” Hollister said sarcastically. “You hired a sick bum who’ll probably get all of
us
sick, too. Wait till Mason hears about this.”

As Branch was leaving, Hollister goaded him. “You know your days here are numbered, old man. Mason ain’t gonna put up with you. If you were smart, you’d make things easy on yourself. Just get your gear and ride on outta here.”

Branch did not reply. He left, and Hollister followed.

When, at last, Colt was alone, he rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. There was, he decided, only one road to take. He’d find out what Dani’s intentions were, and then deal with Mason. This was Dani’s home, and he couldn’t ask her to leave. But he damn well didn’t have to put up with Gavin Mason.

He got up, washed, shaved, found some clean clothes that belonged to one of the hands, and grabbed a couple of biscuits and a mug of coffee.

He was about to go to the big house when Hollister walked in. “Well, well, Sleeping Beauty has awakened,” he sneered. “You don’t look sick to me, stranger. You look like a goddamn goldbrick. We don’t need your kind. Get out of here.”

Colt sipped his coffee. “I thought Pope was the foreman.”

Hollister snorted. “I’m running things. Now git!”

Colt took his time finishing the coffee, which only infuriated Hollister. Then Colt took his hat from its place on a nail by the door, and started out.

“Maybe you don’t hear so good, stranger. I said get your stuff, then get out.”

Colt was almost through the door. Hollister clamped a hand on his shoulder, shouting, “Don’t get me riled—”

Colt hit him so fast Dirk never saw the movement. One moment he was standing, and then he was crashing backward against chairs, toppling them as he fell to the floor.

Colt tipped his hat and smiled. “Don’t get
me
riled.” He took a step toward the door again, then added, “By the way, the name’s Coltrane.”

Colt entered the house through the back door, greeting the startled servants.

He was walking through the downstairs rooms, looking at the mess left from the party, when Carlota, the Mexican woman who’d been in charge of the household staff for as long as Colt could remember, rushed in.

“Oh,
Señor
Colt, I am so glad to see you,” she cried. Colt nodded, knowing how upset the servants must be. He continued to look around. It had, he noted, been quite a party. Expensive, from the looks of the empty wine and champagne bottles, the hundreds of wilting roses.

Carlota’s eyes were wide as she said, “Last night,
Señor
Mason gave a big party. I am sorry for all this mess, but it was nearly sunrise before all the guests left, so we started to clean only a little while ago.”

Sensing that she was taking his silence for disapproval over the condition of the house, Colt smiled pleasantly at her. “Just take your time, Carlota. There’s no great rush. Now, where is Dani? Still sleeping?”

Carlota shook her head. “Oh, no. She was up early, wanting to help us, but I gave her coffee and told her to go back upstairs and just get out of the way. She is nice.” She smiled hesitantly. “Not like
Señor
Mason. He curses at us, and we’re not used to unkindness.”

Colt nodded. After exchanging pleasantries and reassuring her, he left Carlota and went upstairs. Assuming Dani had been using the room that was once hers, he went to that door and knocked. A soft voice called, “Come in.”

She was seated in a chair by the open window, a book in her hands, wearing a yellow satin robe patterned with tiny blue flowers. Her long hair, tied back from her face, glowed like burnished copper in the brilliant sunlight.

At once, Colt silently acknowledged that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Briana was wary. What was this stranger doing in her bedroom? But as she looked into his eyes—the warmest, most tender eyes she had ever seen—somehow, she knew she had nothing to fear. “What is it?” she asked quietly.

He did not speak for several moments. In his mind, the years were rolling back. It was difficult to imagine this lovely woman as the same spoiled little brat who had left him her mark on his face the last time they were together. She looked so gentle, so…sweet.

He shook his head. Fourteen years was a long time. A lot could happen in all that time to change a person.

Briana waited for him to speak, her gaze sweeping over him. He was tall and muscular. His complexion was dark, his hair so black as to gleam with blue highlights. The eyes she found so overwhelmingly appealing were gray and fringed by long, thick lashes. He was, she thought, the handsomest man she had ever encountered in her entire life.

Colt crossed the room and stood before her. “I’m your brother.”