Running Wild

by Denise Eagan

  “Entertainment,” Ward asked, from his armchair. He looked over a pair of reading glasses, used to peruse the paper in his lap. “Why, that is quite obliging of you, Melinda, but you need not trouble yourself. To be sure, we’ve been more entertained these last weeks than we have been in years.”

  Detecting the quiet irony in Ward’s voice, Nick’s lips twitched. After four weeks of wedding and honeymoon plans, Christmas preparations, and people arriving and departing more often than passengers at a train station, it was a marvel that any of them was still awake at nine p.m. In the week since they’d returned to the Bar M, the children had hardly made a peep at bedtime.

  “I, for one,” Morgan answered, turning a page in her book, “am thankful for the quiet. I love my son and new daughter-in-law, but I must confess I was not altogether displeased to see them leave. You young people are a fatiguing lot.”

  “Aye, you are!” Ward agreed.

  “We’re fine, Melinda,” Jim said affectionately. “You’ve done a remarkable job.”

  “Oh, yes,” Miz Montgomery answered warmly. “You certainly have entertained us quite well. Nicholas, are you ever going to make a move?”

  He glanced up at her. Miz Montgomery was dressed in a high-necked white shirtwaist and brown skirt tonight, not the kind of thing that’d catch a man’s eye. Didn’t matter. In his mind he saw her as clear as day in the tight gold gown she’d worn at Lee’s wedding. Worse, every time she leaned over to study the board, her scent filled his nose, sending his mind off into wicked fantasies of what the rest of her smelled like. “I’m analyzin’ my options,” he grumbled. “Be a comfort to this old heart to win at least one game against you.”

  Ward chuckled. “You won’t,” he said, rustling his newspaper. “No one wins against Star, which is the very reason we all refuse to play with her.”

  “I thought it was ’cause she’s a poor loser.”

  “It is entirely possible,” Ward said, “but as we have yet to see her lose, we’ve yet to test that theory.”

  “Father,” Star said with a small chuckle, which tickled Nick’s ears. “You know that’s not true. I lost many a game when you first taught me how to play.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nick caught Ward’s rare smile. “Why, I suppose that’s true when I turn my mind back over the years. You shall permit me to point out, however, that a loss or two is expected of a five-year-old child.”

  “Well,” Melinda interjected, “I know most of us are a bit weary after these weeks, but from what I understand, Star is used to more exercise.”

  Sonuvabitch! Nick glanced in Mel’s direction. A light flush colored her face, while her warm brown eyes had brightened. Those eyes had lulled many a man into a false sense of security. Add her tendency to appear jingle-brained and her overly romantic sensibilities, and even with a ring on her finger, Melinda had men falling all over themselves to help out “the poor young thang.” He and Jim knew better, though. The rare times Melinda called upon it, her brain worked fine enough, and under that soft exterior rode rock-hard determination. Right now her tone cautioned him that she was about to use both against him; Melinda’s attempts at matchmaking were legendary.

  “Well, that’s it, ma’am,” Nick said to Miz Montgomery and sat back. Time to clear out before Melinda started in on her latest fandango. He yawned and tried for a casual stretch. “You win.”

  “Pray do not trouble yourself on my behalf, Melinda,” Miz Montgomery said. “I’m accustomed to less exercise in the winter.” She turned back to him, cocking one silky black eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’ Nicholas?” she asked. “You’re not quitting, are you?”

  “Nope,” he said, pushing back his chair. “Just concedin’ defeat, or will in three moves. No reason to play on, is all.”

  “But there is every reason to play on!” she sputtered. “We haven’t finished the game.”

  “She can’t crow about her win until she cries checkmate,” Morgan said, amusement riding high in her voice.

  “Sure she can. Go ahead, ma’am, crow all you want. I won’t take offense.”

  “But I can’t until we’ve moved all the pieces. It’s wrong.”

  “Move ’em, then. I don’t mind.”

  “Why, I have an idea,” Mel said in her sweetest voice. “The Montgomerys have yet to enjoy the view from the mountains. Maybe they’d like to take a ride up there.”

  “Hey, that’s a good idea, Melinda,” Jim said, flashing a mischievous grin at Nick. “The views from up there, are they ever pretty. When you get high enough you can see almost all the way back to Boston!”

  “Upon my honor, Nicholas, you are the most vexing man,” Star said, frowning at him even as a gleam entered her eye, the kind that did not bode well for his comfort. “And a surprisingly poor loser. Do you know, Melinda,” she said turning to her hostess, “that strikes me as a capital idea. I’ve only passed through the Rockies when traveling to San Francisco, and you must know that a train moves along too fast for one to truly appreciate the scenery. I should love to ride through the mountains.”

  “I’m not a poor loser,” Nick interjected hastily, hoping to drag the conversation back to the game. “You bested me four times and I’ve got no problem admitting to it. Just don’t see any reason to pile on the agony, is all.”

  “You know the mountains best, Nick,” Mel continued without missing a beat. “I’m sure you’ll volunteer to be the guide.”

  Volunteer? Shanghaied, more like. Nick glowered at Jim, whose amusement at Melinda’s matchmaking glowed on his face, even though he, like all of them, knew that Miz Montgomery was dead-set on being an old maid. She sure didn’t mind teasin’ a man with thoughts of the bedroom, though. Damn, damn, damn. “It’s powerful cold up there this time o’ year,” Nick said.

  “We’re from Boston,” Star pointed out reasonably. “We’re accustomed to the cold.”

  “What’s more is,” Nick added, “the trails are kinda rough for ladies, ’specially in the winter.”

  “Well that cuts me out,” Morgan said with a sigh, and shook her head as Ward dropped a hand over hers. “Try as I might, I have never been an adept horse woman.”

  “That’s quite all right, my dear,” Ward said. “We might return in the summer when you can ride without fear.”

  Morgan lifted her head and gave him a loving smile, which sent shots of soft memory through Nick’s heart—of his mother looking just that way at Pa. For the shortest of seconds, it hurt. Then the pain evaporated, leaving behind the sweetness of recollection.

  “Might we?” she asked. “You know that may suit the purpose. It would be nice to escape the city heat in the mountains. But we should miss sailing, shouldn’t we?”

  He shrugged. “Some of it, perhaps.”

  Nick nodded at him. “You’re welcome either way.”

  “Yes, but the views are also very beautiful in the winter,” Melinda interrupted, glancing at Miz Montgomery in a damnably meaningful way. “It truly isn’t all that dangerous if you are a good rider. How are you on a horse, Star?”

  Another tug at Ward’s mouth. “My daughter is as accomplished a horse woman as she is a chess player. She’s a member of the Manchester Hunt Club.”

  Miz Montgomery smiled affectionately Ward. “You ought not to brag about me, Father. You’ll bring me to the blush.”

  “It’s not just the trail,” Nick pointed out, scowling at Melinda, who blinked innocently in return. “There’s the danger of avalanches, too.”

  Jim shook his head. “We haven’t had fresh snow in a week, and it’s been two since anything close to a thaw. Not much risk under those conditions, ’specially if you steer clear of the steeper slopes, which you would, anyhow. ”

  Miz Montgomery raised an eyebrow. “Why then I suppose we should be perfectly safe, shouldn’t we? And you must admit, Nicholas,” she said, her eyes sparkling merrily, “that you owe me some compensation after being such an abominable loser.”

  “No girl could be sa
fer,” Melinda said.

  Girl? Star Montgomery was not a girl. A body might still refer to Eva and May from the Golden Nugget as girls, whores though they were. They still giggled and pranced around like girls. But Miz Montgomery? No, sir, she was a woman, not a girl. With her deep, throaty laugh, her full figure, the places she’d been and the things she’d done, she was all woman.

  And he could not for the life of him figure what she wanted from him. He’d never been anywhere, never done much of anything. Pretty much all his knowledge came out of a book. Which, he thought as his eyes caught hers, could hardly impress her. He had impressed her, though. It glowed in her eyes and settled on her face in an amused, admiring smile. His stomach flipped and an unfamiliar warmth swept through his chest. He’d never in his entire life sought admiration, but Lord almighty, when she looked at him like that, it was like the sun rising after a bitter cold night on the trail. “O.K.,” he agreed, “I’ll take you into the mountains.”

  Her eyes gleamed dark gold, and a Cheshire-cat smile spread across her face. “Why thank you, Nicholas. You are ever so accommodating.”

  ***

  “I cannot like this situation with Nicholas,” Morgan said in a low voice, frowning at Star’s retreating back. “We must do something.” Nick had retired hours earlier; Melinda and Jim had gone to bed a few minutes before Star, leaving Ward and Morgan alone.

  Shrugging, Ward prepared himself for the worried lecture that his wife had kept to herself for weeks, and flipped a page in his book. “You’re referring to the mountain ride, correct? I see no cause for objection. In the past when Star’s been locked up for too long, she’s been want to create all manner of outlandish indoor games, ending most often, as I recall, in a ballyhoo of blazes.”

  “Don’t be obtuse,” Morgan snapped. “Star is a grown woman now, and long since past that sort of behavior. Nicholas is my concern.”

  Ward raised his head, lifting his brows. “Nick? I see no reason for concern. In these last weeks, I’ve observed in him nothing less than striking intelligence, good sense, and the strictest adherence to duty. Moreover, he’s traveled these mountains most of his life. You need not fear for either his or your daughter’s safety.”

  “It’s not for her safety, but his, that I fear, and not harm from the elements, but from Star. When it comes to men, she’s shockingly unsteady, and you must know that she’s set her sights on him.”

  “Aye, Mistress,” he said, employing his rare grin to melt Morgan’s anxiety. Nick, it seemed, had wormed his way into her heart as he had Ward’s, for Morgan’s merry disposition generally made her disinclined to worry. It was that disposition, combined with barely checked rebelliousness, that he’d fallen in love with thirty years earlier. “I suspect she’s plotted a course, as well.”

  She wagged her finger at him, although a sparkle lit her eye. “Do not smile at me, Ward Montgomery, nor try to charm me out of this. She’s dangerous, I tell you! I love her. She is my daughter and I am extraordinarily proud of her and all she has accomplished during her short life, but I like Nicholas. I don’t wish to see him as her latest victim.”

  “I like Nicholas, also. He is. . .” Ward searched for a word to describe his growing kinship with the man. Though their social circumstances could scarcely have been more dissimilar, they’d hoisted similar loads in their youths, loads that formed a man’s character, for better or worse. “He is a good man,” Ward finished, “and quite capable of handling Star.”

  “Like the five—or is it six?—fiancés before him?”

  Ward chuckled and rose to cross the room to seat himself on the sofa next to Morgan. He took her hands in his. “Like her mother who went through three husbands before she managed to keep one alive.”

  A twinkle entered her eyes, although she refused to acknowledge it. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “No, my dear, it is not. No one is dead in this case. No,” he said holding up a hand. “You shall wait while I have my say. McGraw is no youth, but a bachelor of thirty-five years. He’s unlikely to fall into the one hundred or so traps our very inventive daughter will set for him. If you fear for a broken heart, fear for Star.”

  “I do fear for her. Would that she could contemplate marriage.” She sighed. “’Tisn’t healthy for a woman of such temperament to be forever unmarried.”

  “On that we are agreed. Has it occurred to you, my dear, that McGraw may well be her cure?”

  “Oh, but how?” she exclaimed, turning in her seat. “She’s intent upon a seduction, not a connection. Would you see her ruined?”

  “No,” he said with a sigh, “but I would see her happy, and we possess no knowledge that she’s not already ‘ruined.’ Trust, Morgan, that you’ve educated her well enough to avoid permanent trouble in that regard. Moreover, should she succeed in her goal, Nicholas will be as discreet as a man can be. I don’t expect that she will, however. He’s much attached to his honor.”

  “Yes, so were you,” Morgan exclaimed irritably. “Yet you succumbed to desire within a few hours’ time with very little provocation! Men are notoriously unrestrained in matters of passion.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I object, Mistress, to the presumption of very little provocation. As I recall, you offered yourself to me in such a manner that even a saint would have been hard-pressed to refuse you. Secondly, Nick has learned to govern those needs instead of ignoring them as I had always done. He’ll not yield easily, and that will be better for both of them. We love most, that for which we fight hardest.”

  “But Star’s been in love countless times, and it’s never lasted beyond six months.”

  “She’s never met a man like McGraw,” he said, patting her hand. “Take ease in this, Mistress, that while I have every expectation that the seas will be rough, they shall navigate them with great success. Star means to have Nick as her lover. I mean to have him as our son-in-law.”

  She sighed, but Ward spied a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “I should relish such a match, even though it means losing our daughter. Still, if you would but reason with her, my dearest Captain, I am persuaded they might avoid the storm altogether.”

  He smiled and rose, pulling her with him. “And deny her the opportunity to fight for what she wants? Never. Sit back and enjoy the show, Morgan. Not only does Nicholas intend to thwart Star’s plans, but both Lee and Port appear inclined to meddle in their sister’s affairs as well. And you know none of them will abide by our advice.”

  Morgan chuckled as she allowed him to lead her from the room. “No, they never shall! And I collect, by that sparkle in your eye, that you will be the most meddlesome of all!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signor Benedick and her. They never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit between them.

  Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

  I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance.

  Socrates

  “Oh, Nick, wait a minute,” Melinda hollered, rushing out of the kitchen with a brown paper parcel in her hand. “Mac packed your lunch in your saddlebag, but these cookies are just out of the oven. I know how much you love my lemon drops.”

  Standing next to the front door, Nick finished buttoning his coat, and then smiled down at his sister-in-law. “I’d fight a grizzly for ’em, Mel,” he said, taking the bundle and dropping an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

  “Just make sure it’s not rabid. Speaking of which, you are taking your rifle with you, right?”

  Nick frowned. Melinda’s eyes appeared a mite glazed, and Nick’s shoulders tightened. For all her genius at child rearing, housekeeping, and matchmaking, Melinda wasn’t what a body would call smart. In fact, she could drive a man mad trying to follow her convoluted thinking. But she had an intuition—she called it a sixth sense—that’d saved lives.

  “Sure enough. Wouldn’t go into the mountains without it.”

  “And you’ll keep it with you at all times, right?”

  He nodded slowly. “I
do gen’rally. Why? Is there something wrong?”

  “No. No, everything will be fine then,” she said, her face brightening. The dazed expression vanished. “Just make certain that you keep it near, that’s all.”

  Maybe he could use her woman’s intuition to escape . . . . He frowned. “Maybe we shouldn’t go—”

  “Oh no, now that won’t do. You do your duty by your guests, Nick.” She pulled the door open and Nick, cookies tucked under his arm, stepped out onto the porch. Melinda closed the door behind him with a final click, loud in the cold morning air. Stomach clenching, he looked across the yard toward two horses saddled and packed. Mack stood at the head of his mount, while Star held the reins of Belle, stroking its chestnut neck and whispering something in its ear. She wore a brown, hooded wool cape and a ridiculous green velvet top hat, which somehow didn’t look ridiculous on Star.

  Miz Montgomery, Nick corrected himself as he crossed the yard, his boots crunching on the frozen ground. The trick was to keep his distance as much as possible, and he’d avoid the kind of entanglements that could cause scenes and cost friendships. A name was a good start.

  Detecting his approach, she turned toward him. Her cloak was fur-lined and pushed back on her shoulders to reveal a green riding habit, which, absent bustle or petticoats, clung to her curves. Nicholas sucked in his breath as his eyes rode over her, while his brain assured his runaway imagination that there was nothing at all erotic about a riding habit. Unfeminine and stark, that’s what they were.

  Except on Miz Montgomery.

  Heat and excitement bubbled through his veins. Damn, damn.

  A smile crept across her face, and her eyes gleamed brandy-brown. Her cheeks were pink in the cold morning air, two bright spots of color in the midst of a grey winter day.

  “Getting to know Belle?” Nick asked as he reached his mount and shoved the cookies in his saddlebag.

  “She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she? Gentle and quiet. Did you suppose I couldn’t handle a more spirited horse?”