She wasn’t supposed to use his first name when they were in the office like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her. Not with the way her delicate scent filled his senses and the warmth of her breath brushed his face. Even though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but think about San Francisco and all the things they could do there…
“I suppose it would be all right,” he conceded. “The office can get along without both of us for a while.”
“Of course it can.” She leaned closer and nuzzled his ear. “Thank you, Cornelius.”
He slipped an arm around her waist, pulled her onto his lap, and kissed her. After a moment, he drew back and said in a voice that was rough with desire, “Go lock the door.”
“Of course.”
It was dangerous, indulging their passion in the office like this, but Standish didn’t care. He wanted her too badly to hesitate.
And his need was fueled by something else, too, something that filled him with power and made his fleshly appetites even stronger.
That something was the sure and certain knowledge that soon, very soon, his nephew Seymour would be dead.
Chapter Three
Jessica Colton knew she made an appealing picture as she rode along with the wind making her long red hair stream out behind her head. She wore trousers and a man’s shirt and rode astride, even though she knew that scandalized her mother Carolyn. A sidesaddle was fine for cantering through a city park back East; Jessie had done that more than once. But for pure enjoyment, there was nothing like galloping over the West Texas hills and plains, and that required some real riding.
She had ridden out today, the day after the dance in Sweet Apple, to meet Sandy Paxton at the creek that formed part of the boundary between the Double C and Pax ranches. Her father had tried to discourage her from spending so much time with Sandy, but Shad Colton knew better than to forbid his strong-willed daughter to do anything. That would just make Jessie even more determined to do it.
She knew from things Sandy had told her that her father, Esau Paxton, was the same way. Esau didn’t like the two of them being friends, but it was much too late to do anything about that now. Jessie and Sandy had been close companions ever since childhood. They had grown up together, more like sisters than second cousins, and gone away to school together. It was while they were back East that the rift had developed between their families. Neither young woman knew what had caused it, but whatever it was, they didn’t see any reason why it should keep them from being friends.
Jessie came in sight of the creek, which ran roughly north and south, rising in the rugged hills and meandering some twenty miles before finally running into the Rio Grande. Pax lay to the east of the stream, Double C to the west. Both spreads extended on into the hills, past the spring where the creek bubbled to life, and up there the boundary was less well-defined. That didn’t matter much, because all the good graze was down here along the creek. The stream’s banks were dotted with scrubby cottonwood and mesquite trees, as well as the occasional desert willow or oak.
Sandy hadn’t gotten there yet, Jessie saw as she reined to a halt on the bank, in the shade of one of the cottonwoods. They had agreed to meet here this morning so they could talk about everything that had happened at the dance the night before.
Sandy would want to talk about Sam Two Wolves, Jessie thought with a smile. Sandy thought Sam was just about the handsomest man she had ever seen, and the fact that he was half-Cheyenne didn’t bother her. It wasn’t like he was Apache or Comanch’. That would have been different. The Cheyenne weren’t longtime blood enemies of the pioneer families that had settled in West Texas.
Jessie had to admit that Sam was a good-looking man. But Matt Bodine was better-looking, she thought.
She and Sandy had met Matt and Sam at the train station in Marfa when the young women were returning to Sweet Apple from school. There’d been some trouble there, and two hard cases who had been bothering Jessie and Sandy had made the mistake of drawing on the blood brothers when Matt and Sam intervened on their behalf. Those fools had wound up lying dead on the platform.
It might have turned out like that anyway, since both of the girls had been packing iron and knew how to shoot. That fancy Eastern school had taught them quite a bit, true enough, but it hadn’t changed them, made them something they weren’t. They were still West Texas gals through and through.
They had enjoyed talking to Matt and Sam on the train after that, although Jessie figured that Mr. Matt Bodine was pretty full of himself. Sam was quieter and more modest.
But Sam didn’t have the same sort of reckless, devil-may-care attitude about him that Matt did, and whether she wanted to or not, Jessie had to admit that she found that attitude mighty appealing in a man…
Not that she was any sort of expert on men or anything like that, she reminded herself as she felt a warm flush creeping over her face. It was best not to think too much about how handsome Matt Bodine was.
The drumming of hoofbeats made her look up. She spotted Sandy on the other side of the creek, riding toward her.
And something was wrong, too, Jessie realized as Sandy came closer. Her friend had a worried look on her face.
Sandy rode across the creek, the hooves of her horse splashing the shallow water. She brought the animal to a halt. Like Jessie, she wore men’s clothes and a broad-brimmed Stetson. Her blond hair was pulled into a thick braid that hung down her back.
“What’s wrong, Sandy?” Jessie asked.
“Pa fired Jeff Riley this morning.”
Jessie’s mouth tightened. “Good riddance, I’d say. I know he was a good bronc-buster, but I never liked him. I saw the way he looked at you sometimes in town, when you didn’t know he was watching you.”
Sandy made a dismissive gesture. “I knew it. I just didn’t let it bother me all that much. Hell, girl, men have been looking at both of us like that for quite a while now.”
Jessie couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, I know. Sometimes I don’t mind…depending on who’s doin’ the lookin’.”
That brought a laugh from Sandy, relieving her grim demeanor for a few seconds. It came back quickly, though, as she said, “I don’t trust Riley. He’s liable to try to get even with Pa.”
“Why’d your father fire him? Because of that ruckus in town last night?”
Sandy nodded. “That’s right. Everybody had strict orders not to cause any trouble, no matter what.”
“The same was true for the Double C riders,” Jessie said. “My pa gave Tom Danks a good, old-fashioned chewing out this morning, since it was Tom that Riley almost drew on…but he didn’t fire him.”
“Riley cussed my father,” Sandy went on. “I thought for a second Pa was going to have him horse-whipped and then thrown off the ranch. But Riley left on his own.”
“I reckon he was pretty mad, all right. He got knocked out by Matt Bodine last night and then lost his job this morning.”
“He’d better be glad he didn’t try to draw on Matt or Sam,” Sandy said. “If he had, he’d be dead now.”
Jessie gave a solemn nod. She and Sandy had seen a first-hand demonstration of how well Matt Bodine and Sam Two Wolves handled their guns, right after they’d first met the two handsome, charming drifters.
They had figured Matt and Sam for no-account gunslingers at first, but Shad Colton and Esau Paxton both had heard of the vast ranches that the blood brothers owned in Montana and had set their daughters straight. Matt and Sam might look and act like saddle tramps at times, but that was hardly what they were.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about Riley,” Jessie said, “and anyway, your pa can take care of himself. Besides, there’s something else that’s bothering me.”