The Lone Rancher (9 page)

“I suppose you thought you were quelling gossip about your involvement in my suspicious fire,” he said as he stuffed his foot in the stirrup and swung onto Cactus's back.

She scraped a recalcitrant strand of chestnut hair away from her sooty face and Quin battled the urge to lean over and kiss her again. But he was reluctant to become as sappy as Otha Hadley—who had visions of happily-ever-after with Zoe Daniels dancing in his head. Boston made it clear on several occasions that she didn't trust the motives of men.

Not that he blamed her for being a cynical heiress, mind you. He'd had his share of manipulative fathers and mothers shoving their eligible daughters under his nose because the Cahills had money, influence and property. You never knew who was sincere and who
had dollar signs in his eyes when money was involved. As for Boston, she was on a crusade to establish her independence and prove her ability to run a ranch. She resented a man telling her what to do.

Quin already knew firsthand how well that went over.

“What are you grinning about, Cahill?” she questioned. “Someone tried to burn down your pasture and barbecue a few calves. Nothing amusing about that.”

He studied her sooty face and the dark braid that tumbled over her shoulder to lie temptingly against her breast. He groaned inwardly, remembering how it felt to skim his hands and lips over her lush flesh and feel her arch toward him.

She snapped her fingers in his face to grab his attention. “What is wrong with you, Cahill? Sleep deprived?”

Something else deprived,
he thought, then said, “No, just distracted by thoughts of our last encounter on the very site someone set this fire.”

His comment caused her face to go up in flames. “You should know that was out of character for me,” she mumbled, avoiding his direct stare.

“Momentary lapse of sanity?” he supplied helpfully, then smiled because being with her and playfully teasing her made him happy. Not as happy as touching her intimately…

Careful, Cahill, you don't want to end up like brother Bowie, who got his heart trampled
.
And damn! I'm suddenly sympathizing with him.

“Yes, let's blame it on a momentary lapse of sanity,” she replied aloofly. “That's what it was.”

He noticed the proud tilt of her chin and decided Boston was as cautious as he was. Emotional vulnerabil
ity could lead to humiliation and disaster. Quin wanted no part of it.

“Whatever the reason, I should warn you that kissing me with an audience of cowboys is an invitation to more gossip.”

She expelled a frustrated breath. “I was trying to dispel the notion that we are feuding, because my cowboys were quick to assume you would blame me for the fire. I wanted them to think we are on friendly terms.”

“It might backfire,” he cautioned as they trotted toward the treed hill where the grand ranch house his parents had built stood like a fortress overlooking the barns, sheds and corrals at 4C headquarters. “I suspect the next round of gossip will suggest that I'm trying to
romance
your ranch out of you because driving you out of Texas hasn't worked worth a damn.”

She snapped to attention and scowled. “Blast it, I should have thought of that. From feud to affair. Well, I suppose we'll have to keep our distance to quell that rumor.”

Quin smiled wryly. “Or I could insist that I've decided I don't want your ranch and that I'm after your luscious body.”

Although he'd meant to tease her, she stared at him very seriously, surprising him. “No more and no less?” she asked.

“Would you be offended if I answered yes?”

His appreciative gaze drifted from the rise of her ample bosom to the trim indentation of her waist. Suddenly, he wished she was straddling
him
and no one was around to catch them doing wildly erotic things to each other. The tantalizing thought sent unappeased desire
rippling through him and he gritted his teeth to prevent groaning aloud.

Her deep-green eyes locked with his and he nearly fell off Cactus when she said, “It would be only for your pleasure and mine. We won't expect favors of any sort. Agreed?”

Hungry need pounded him like a sledgehammer. He had been too long without the sexual favors a woman could provide. Not to mention that wanting Boston in the worst way had been eating him alive since he'd met her.

“If it's your intent to torment me, Boston, it's working. But the answer is yes. I want you. Badly. No strings. No expectations. That is, if you want me, too…. Do you?”

She smiled impishly as they approached his house. Instead of answering his provocative question, she asked one of her own. “Mind if I come in? I haven't toured your place yet. I'm curious what a real Texas ranch house looks like.”

“I'd like to show you my bedroom,” he said under his breath. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen because there were too many cowboys lurking around. It would have to be a quick tour.

“Elda!” she called out when the stout cook appeared at the door. “How nice to see you. Cahill is giving me a tour of his home. I hope he's treating you well. Otherwise, he will answer to me.”

Quin noticed the exchange of glances between the two women. He knew Boston had spoken loudly to ensure the curious cowboys knew Elda was their chap
erone, but whatever had passed between her and Elda excluded him.

Disappointed that yet another erotic fantasy had gone up in smoke, Quin watched the seductive sway of Boston's hips as he followed her into the house. He didn't want to turn to one of the soiled doves who lived in the red-light district on the wrong side of the tracks, but he needed some relief. Perhaps the ten-mile trek to Wolf Grove for supplies was in order. Still, he doubted another woman would satisfy him when this spirited hoyden was the only one he wanted.

 

It didn't take long for Adrianna to realize Elda's assessment of Quin's home was right on the mark. All of his sister's clothing hung in her wardrobe and the room must have been left exactly as she had decorated it. The same went for Bowie's and Chance's quarters. Quin's bedroom was neat and tidy but the master suite didn't have that lived-in look.

Adrianna shivered uneasily. It was clear that Quin hadn't moved on. She wondered if he had taken time to mourn the loss of his parents or simply harbored resentment against Leanna, Bowie and Chance.

She glanced discreetly at Quin as he led the way to the third-floor rooms that looked to be a play area for children and extra space for guests. She was sure Quin thought it was his duty and obligation to live his father's dream. The man didn't have a life of his own, she mused. He was the extension of his father's desire to own half of Texas.

When they returned downstairs, Adrianna cast aside her insightful musings to stare appreciatively at the
stone fireplace and mantel in the cozy den. “This is a very impressive room, Cahill.” She inclined her head toward the stuffed longhorn head hanging above the mantel. “A Hereford would look better, considering it is the breed of the future.”

Quin smirked. “You decorate your fireplace as you want and I'll do mine as I want, Boston. I like it the way it is.”

“I'm sure you do,” she murmured as she wheeled toward the front door. “Thank you for the grand tour. I'd better be going. Tomorrow will be a long day. The shorthorn cattle I bought were delayed but they are due in tomorrow.”

She heard him mumble something about sticking to longhorns if she knew what was good for her, but she didn't ask him to repeat it. With a wave to Elda, Adrianna stepped onto the porch to admire the view. She felt Cahill's presence behind her, inhaled his scent and felt the stirring of undeniable desire. She wondered if she would be bold enough to carry through with her suggestion of a noncommittal tryst—to experiment with the brief moment of passion Quin had introduced her to that day in the grove of trees.

“Sure you don't want to sneak back here after dark?” he whispered from so close behind her that his warm breath caressed her neck and made her weak in the knees.

Adrianna relied on the flippant responses she had used when aristocrats tossed propositions at her. “Not tonight, Cahill. I'll let you know….”

He frowned down at her and she suspected he real
ized he had received a practiced response leftover from her days in Boston's high society.

“I should go,” she murmured as she descended the steps.

“I'll be here if you need me…for one reason or another,” he said softly, invitingly.

She halted to glance up at the brawny cowboy that sported a bristly beard and shaggy hair. He looked rough-edged and rugged…and those leather chaps always drew her attention to the crotch of his breeches. Adrianna inhaled a steadying breath and walked toward her horse. She wondered how much longer she would be able to control the unruly desire Cahill always managed to stir inside her.

No strings, she mused as she rode home. A simple experiment with passion. It was a man's way so it was going to be her way, she reminded herself. After all, she had come to Texas to live without the infuriating restraints applied to women in the East. She just hadn't expected her new philosophy to include sexual pleasure. But Quin Cahill was a hard man to resist.

She wondered if Cousin Rosa had had the same problem when it came to the brawny ex–Ranger.

Adrianna smiled to herself, wondering if that's what Rosa had been talking about when she said that she and Lucas didn't want to wait that long. She suspected she was beginning to understand what Rosa meant.

“I
hope everything will run smoothly at the wedding party tonight,” Bea fretted as she fluffed the sleeves of the new gown Rosa had created, then smoothed a wrinkle from Adrianna's dress after fastening the back of the garment.

“With you and Elda at the helm, I'm sure this festivity will go off splendidly,” Adrianna reassured her housekeeper. “And you look lovely, I might add. That yellow gown accentuates your complexion and your dark hair.”

Bea pinched Adrianna's cheek playfully. “You are good for me, sweetie. Make me feel half my age.”

Adrianna studied her own reflection in the cheval glass that stood in the corner of her room. She wondered if Quin would perceive her as the debutante her friends in Boston saw. Expensively dressed, privileged, blue-blooded. He claimed he wasn't after her money, but she knew he would snatch up her ranch at the drop of a hat. And her body, if she decided to accept his offer…

The erotic thought roiled through her, triggering the same wicked pleasure she had experienced when she had been in his arms—twice—in the past two weeks. She wasn't accustomed to being wanted for her body, only for her social connections and her fortune. She supposed she should have been insulted by Quin's comments and horrified with her own responses concerning no-strings-attached trysts. However, the truth was she had been tempted to follow Quin to his room a few days earlier to find out what all the fuss was about.

Rosa could clue her in but Adrianna was too embarrassed to ask for specifics.

Somehow, Adrianna had managed to resist the reckless urge that had been hounding her, but that didn't mean the temptation to find out what other sensations lust provoked was lost on her….

“Do you agree?” Bea prompted, staring curiously at her.

“Oh, sorry, I was mentally listing the duties I want to tend to when we arrive in town for the party,” Adrianna lied.

Bea's lips pursed in wry amusement. “Of course you were, dearie. You've done a lot of woolgathering of late. Somehow I don't think it has anything to do with managing this ranch or overseeing arrangements for tonight's party.”

“I have no idea what you are suggesting,” Adrianna said aloofly, then flicked an imaginary speck of lint off her gown.

Bea sniffed in contradiction. “Of course you do and we both know it. And for the record, I'm beginning to like Cahill. Hiram still has some reservations, but he
is like a protective father where you're concerned. A woman of your rank and wealth must always be cautious of men's ulterior motives.” She glanced meaningfully at Adrianna. “It doesn't matter if the man in question is an Easterner or a Westerner.”

Adrianna tucked a curly strand of hair into the coiffure pinned atop her head, then spun toward the bedroom door. “I suppose the recent rumors suggest Cahill is courting my ranch because he made it clear he wants to buy it.”

“I'm afraid so,” Bea murmured unhappily. “I hope I haven't got too-high hopes in Cahill. One must always be on guard. I don't want you to be disappointed or heartbroken.”

“I plan to avoid both,” Adrianna murmured as she led the way down the steps to where Butler waited.

He smiled at Beatrice as if she were the most breathtaking creature to walk the face of the earth. Now that Adrianna had figured out what was going on between her man of affairs and housekeeper they were open in their affection for each other. Adrianna had noticed the same tender expression on Lucas Burnett's face when he stared at Rosa.

What would it be like to become a confidante, devoted friend and lover to a man? she wondered. She doubted she'd ever find out. She'd rejected dozens of proposals in the past seven years. Yet, the man who had drawn her interest and her provocative speculations was devoted completely to 4C Ranch.

His obsessive passion for preserving the family legacy had caused a rift with his siblings. Did Quin
ever regret the absence of family in his life? Had he invited them back and they had turned him down?

Adrianna cherished her freedom and independence, but she had Beatrice, Butler and Elda—the cook who now saw herself as some sort of espionage agent who had infiltrated the 4C. Adrianna smiled at the thought. If her cook craved adventure and intrigue, then so be it. Still, Adrianna missed Elda and her delicious meals. She wondered how long Elda would camp out at Quin's house.

“Are we ready?” Butler questioned as he stepped between Adrianna and Beatrice to escort them to the door. “I hope the weather cooperates for this outdoor affair. I noticed a bank of dark clouds piling on the southwestern horizon. I have no idea what that implies in this part of the country, but I do not want it to rain on Rosa's grand parade.”

Neither did Adrianna. Much planning and expense had gone into the festivities that included tables heaped with food and gallons of punch. Rosa had cautioned Adrianna that ruffians from the Wrong Side had disrupted her Christmas party on the square. Lucas and Quin had put a stop to it, but it was difficult to exclude rapscallions—who arrived inebriated—when you invited the whole town to a social affair.

What she didn't need was a brawl to add fuel to all the gossip winging around town. Rumors of a curse were still flying. Add to that rumors of the McKnight-Cahill Feud. Now, thanks to her attempt to quell talk of a feud, folks were thinking Quin was trying to charm her into selling the ranch because she had kissed him in front of the cowboys.

Blast it, the solution to one problem had led to an other. “You should be used to that,” Adrianna mumbled under her breath as she headed for the waiting buggy.

Flying gossip had surrounded her for years in Boston. Men tried to link themselves to her name, in hopes of discouraging competition for her affection. What a pity those gold-digging dandies didn't realize she had no affection to give. At least, not to the likes of pretentious jackasses!

Her thoughts trailed off when she arrived in town and stared across Town Square. She immediately spotted Rosa and Lucas walking toward her, hand in hand. Dog was beside them. Rosa, with her perfect creamy complexion, curvaceous figure and silver-blond hair, looked like an angel. Especially in her blue gown encrusted with rhinestones. Lord, she was like a shining star in a midnight sky.

And Lucas… Adrianna looked him up and down, admiring his masculine build, his high cheekbones and coal-black hair that denoted his Comanche heritage. He looked quite dashing in formal black attire.

Adrianna burst out laughing when she noticed Dog was wearing a rhinestone-studded bow tie. “That burly wolf dog has stolen my heart, Lucas,” she insisted. “Name your price. I want him for my own.”

Lucas grinned and Adrianna knew immediately why Cousin Rosa had lost her heart to him. Granted, Lucas could look fierce, intimidating and somber…until his expression softened in a smile. He reminded her of Quin in size, stature and commanding appearance. Quin had a softer side, too, though he didn't expose it very often.
Adrianna had discovered it beneath the shady trees on a wooded hillside when they had explored each other intimately….

“You look positively enchanting,” Rosa complimented.

Adrianna spun in a circle to display her elegant gown from every angle. “Of course, I only wear the finest formal attire, designed by my genius cousin,” she replied. “I was always the envy of Boston's social circle because of my one-of-a-kind wardrobe.”

While Rosa praised Bea's and Butler's appearances, Adrianna strode off to check with the waitresses she had hired from local establishments to ensure plenty of food and drink filled the tables. Then she hiked across the square to speak with the band Rosa had recommended to her. There were no flutes or violins, as in Boston's orchestras. But rather banjos, fiddles, harmonicas and a piano transported from one of the saloons across the tracks.

When she glanced around, she noticed people were showing up all at once. They flocked in from every direction to fill Town Square to overflowing. Adrianna hurried off to set up a reception line for Rosa and Lucas.
Greet first, eat second,
she mused as she herded several rough-looking partygoers into a line to congratulate the newlyweds.

Adrianna pasted on a smile and bowed slightly when the string of guests offered their names and greeted her after they paid their respects to Rosa and Lucas.
So far so good,
she decided. Thirty minutes had elapsed and no fights had broken out.

“Adrianna McKnight,” Rosa said formally, as she
inclined her blond head toward a petite woman who looked to be about a year or two older than Adrianna. “This is Merritt Dixon. Like us, she is a businesswoman in Cahill Crossing. Merritt owns the Morning Glory Boardinghouse near the opera house.”

Adrianna clasped the lovely brunette's hand and smiled delightedly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Merritt. We businesswomen need to stick together and encourage others to open their own businesses.”

“I agree,” Merritt replied. “The more, the better.”

Adrianna would have liked to chitchat with Merritt but the next man in line grabbed her hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Glad to make your acquaintance, Miz McKnight. I'm Ned Womack. I'm your neighbor to the west.”

Adrianna smiled politely as she surveyed the man's bushy brown hair, caterpillar-like eyebrows and bulbous nose. He looked to be in his early forties and he was by no means attractive. But his small mouth split into a smile and she decided he was more genuine than most men she knew in Boston.

“Lost my wife last winter to influenza and I've been shopping around for another one to help raise my two boys,” he continued as she wriggled her hand from his tight grasp. “You interested?”

Beside her, Rosa and Lucas sputtered and coughed to camouflage their laughter. Amazingly, Adrianna managed to keep a straight face. “Thank you for your kind offer,” she said with practiced ease. “But I'm focusing my efforts on organizing my ranch so that it runs effectively.”

Ned leaned in close to say confidentially, “Then watch out for Cahill. He tried to buy me out last year.”

Apparently, Adrianna wasn't the only one offended by Quin's offer.

“I hear he's planning to charm you out of your property since he couldn't force you to sell outright.”

Adrianna inwardly grimaced but manufactured a smile as Ned walked off. Quin had predicted this would happen, and it was her fault. Now what was she supposed to do to quell the new rumor of being romanced out of her property?

Speaking of Quin… Adrianna glanced down the receiving line, wondering what had detained him. He was supposed to escort Elda to town. Where the blazes were they?

Before she could scan the area thoroughly, a baldheaded, dark-eyed man with thin black brows stepped up in front of her. “Sid Meeker is the name,” he introduced himself. “I'm the bartender at Hell's Corner Saloon. Not that I expect you to visit the place, ma'am, but it's nice to meet you all the same.” He waited a beat, then said, “You looking to get married anytime soon?”

Adrianna shook her head. Given the men in Ca-Cross outnumbered women, she wondered if every eligible bachelor planned to propose. Apparently, getting to know each other wasn't a prerequisite. Wedlock seemed to be a convenient alliance. At least the Western approach was straightforward, unlike the devious manipulation she had faced in Boston.

Adrianna cast aside her wandering thoughts to greet a well-dressed gentleman who bowed over her hand. He was over six foot tall, lanky and there was a smattering
of gray hair mixed with black strands that were slicked away from his gaunt face. He had brown eyes, a long nose and looked to be approaching fifty.

“Donald Fitzgerald, I'm your neighbor to the south,” he said as he drew himself up to full stature, then flashed a cordial smile. “I hope you are settling into our community.”

“Yes, and I'm delighted to be here,” she replied.

She felt someone tug at her sleeve, then she glanced over her shoulder to see the blonde waitress hired to cater food.

“Miz McKnight, I think one of those ornery miscreants from Wrong Side spiked our punch,” she muttered.

Adrianna tossed Fitzgerald an apologetic smile. “Please excuse me, sir. I have an errand to tend.”

She followed the tall, long-legged waitress to the tables, then sipped the punch. “Definitely spiked,” she wheezed. “Do you suppose it's lethal?”

The waitress shook her frizzy head. “I tasted it, too. I'm still standing. Probably the work of those rowdy tracklayers that scoff at the idea of a highfalutin party like this. I suspect they're trying to bring the rest of us down to their ill-mannered level.”

“Dilute the punch as best you can and test it periodically,” Adrianna advised.

“Yes, ma'am. I'll tell the other girls to be on guard.”

When Adrianna strolled away from the refreshment area to rejoin the receiving line, she noticed several women standing aside. They appeared young and unattached. Adrianna suspected they plied their wares on the north side of the tracks and had been shunned by the so-called decent folks. But Adrianna wasn't here to
judge as she had been judged. She refused to conform to accepted standards. In fact, this was the first time she'd worn a dress since she stepped down from the train.

“Have any of you met Rosa?” Adrianna asked as she halted in front of the five young women. “She's my cousin and she is one of the nicest people you will ever meet.”

“We've seen her at a distance and all of us would dearly love to buy one of her marvelous dresses,” Margie, the brunette-turned-spokesperson said, then pointed at Adrianna's gown. “You're wearing one of her creations, aren't you?”

Adrianna nodded, grinned, then added, “She also designed my breeches and shirts. I am convinced that somewhere back in history some spiteful little man decided women should be restrained and hampered by cumbersome dresses. That's why it is taking us longer to assume control of the world.”