Jace looked oddly baffled. Rafe couldn't detect any mendacity in his voice as he answered. "I don't have the slightest idea. This is the first I've heard of her seeing anyone. If she has a beau here in town, I can't imagine where she's been meeting him. Two suitors?" he muttered. "And to think I worried she'd end up a spinster."
Rafe frowned. Clandestine meetings? That didn't sound good. The other fella had to be married. Jace's comments all but proved Sparkle had been lying when she denied it. "So you don't know this man, know if he's serious about her?"
Jace soberly shook his head. There was no green tint to his irises, Rafe noticed. They were pure sky blue. Rafe wouldn't have fallen so hard if Sparkle's had been that same ordinary shade. Jace's hair was much lighter than hers, too, and he didn't have her turned-up nose. Funny how there wasn't much resemblance in some families.
"Who does Sparkle favor," Rafe inquired, "your ma or your pa?"
"She doesn't look anything like Mother. I've got her coloring. Sparkle must take after our father, but I can't be sure. I don't remember what he looked like. He died years ago, the night I was wounded. I can't recall much from before the injury."
"What happened? I mean, if you don't mind me askin'."
"I was shot. The bullet's still lodged in my brain. That's what the doctors believe keeps me in this chair."
Rafe jerked as if he'd been shot himself at that revelation. No wonder Sparkle got so upset over firearms. He took a deep breath and forced his thoughts away from weapons and gunshot wounds.
"Got an older sister and younger brother. The three of us are spittin' images on the outside, but we wrangle over what's in our noggins all the time. They got their notions, I got mine. Just the way it goes in families. Maybe Sparkle didn't think you'd cotton to her local beau. I wasn't sure you'd take to me."
"Well, we aren't meeting under the best of circumstances." Jace coughed. "But you seem a decent sort. Straightforward. You're fond of my sister. I can see that for myself."
"I just don't know what I'm up against. Sparkle won't say much about her other fella. Got no idea what he looks like, what he does for a livin'. Could be just some figment of a female's imagination…you know, designed to make me jealous."
"Is it working?" The teasing glint was back in the cornflower blue eyes.
"Too damned well. Does that gleam in your eye mean I got your blessin'?" Rafe asked.
Before Jace could respond, the women stalked back into the room. "It's too late to catch a train now," Sparkle announced coldly, "but Mr. Conley and I will be leaving first thing tomorrow. If you'd permit him to stay overnight in the study, Jace."
"Sparkle, this is still your home," he reproached. "You don't need my permission to invite a guest, and what's this about leaving? You just got here. Majesta, what did you say to her?"
"Several things. None of which I'd care to repeat in mixed company. I'll wait for you upstairs. Your sister can help you up."
"Majesta LaFleur, you will not go up without me," Jace corrected. "I'm not having this house divided. And Sparkle, I'm sorry you had to discover—"
"What, that you and your nurse have been playing house behind my back for months? Or is it years? How big a fool was I? Just when did her tender ministrations come to include massages in bed?"
"Now just a minute," Jace exclaimed, flushing. "Nothing like that ever went on. Majesta's a proper lady. I never laid a hand on her until we'd taken our vows, just as I'm sure you'd never allow a man to take liberties outside the sanctity of marriage."
Rafe rolled his eyes. So much for highfalutin' manners and city folk. This was turning as ugly as any saloon brawl he'd ever seen.
He spoke up firmly. "Sparkle, I should find a hotel room," he reiterated, getting to his feet. "You folks need to sort things out and I'm just underfoot. It's awkward. I shouldn't be intrudin'."
"There's no call for that," Jace immediately disagreed. "There's a settee in my study." He used his good arm to maneuver his chair to the bottom of the staircase. "Majesta, we're retiring to our room. Our guests must be weary from their travels. Everyone will have a better outlook after a night's rest. Help me up, please."
Rafe saw Majesta bend to take Jace's arm over her shoulders as he struggled to stand. The buxom woman seemed sturdy enough, and Rafe knew she must help Jace up those same stairs daily. Still, he couldn't just stand and watch. "I'll take him. Which room is it?"
"To the right at the top of the stairs," Majesta replied, dragging the wheelchair up behind the two men. Rafe waited until she'd joined him on the landing and had Jace's weight on her shoulders before he stepped aside.
"Thanks," Jace said softly, offering his left hand again. His blue eyes met Rafe's brown and held them. "You and Sparkle take a walk. Have some lemonade. Talk. Ask her again, and advise that I think you'd make a fine husband." He glanced down beyond Rafe's shoulder and spoke louder. "We'll talk later, Sparkle."
There was no response. Rafe turned. She stood at the base of the stairs, her face an ugly mask. Her eyes glittered as Majesta and Jack disappeared and their bedroom door closed. Rafe had seen hurt and anger in her eyes. Now he saw something else. Incomprehensible and horrifying, but all too familiar.
He'd felt it himself recently, watching her flirt with saloon patrons. He'd seen it in Sparkle's aquamarine eyes before, the night she'd pulled the redheaded doxy off his lap.
Sexual jealousy.
Lord God Almighty. It couldn't be…
'It's the first I've heard of her seeing anyone…'
'We've known each other for years. He doesn't see me the way you or the men downstairs do.'
'How big a fool was I?'
Rafe all but flew back down the stairs. "Goddamn you, tell me I'm wrong about what I see in your eyes right now, Sparkle," he hissed. "Why are you upset they're hitched? Sore because Majesta has what you yen for? Wish it was you in that bedroom upstairs with him, don't you?"
He shook her roughly. Her eyes left the empty stairwell and rested on his face, but Rafe doubted she truly saw him. "No wonder my scar never bothered you," he spat in disgust. "You were in love with a freak all along. Christ, that freak's your own brother! He ain't supposed to see you like other men do. I won't be able to after this, either. Never again. I should have known you were too pretty, too perfect. There had to be somethin' rotten somewhere. Now I found it. You're nobody's woman now."
His valise was still by the front door, the Colt inside it. For one horrible second, his revulsion was nearly overpowering. Rafe pictured the smooth grip, his thumb on the hammer. One flick and Sparkle wouldn't be around to poison Jace and Majesta's life with her sick desires. One flick and Rafe would never encounter her again, never have to look into those damned treacherous eyes…
He didn't open the valise. He opened the front door.
And struck out for the depot, recalling a watering hole on the way. He purchased a bottle and took it to the darkest spot, farthest from the doorway. He proceeded to get roaring drunk, so drunk he could barely stagger the rest of the way to the train station and buy a ticket. He tripped over his own feet inside the depot. He spat, thinking how he detested bustling cities. Miserable, overcrowded places, where folks lived on top of each other. He never should have come to one.
He hated Kansas City and the uncomfortable jacket and boiled shirt he'd donned trying to impress Jace LaFleur. Hated that hellish warning voice that had whispered to him every night in Dodge that having a beauty like Sparkle was too good to be true. He sunk to a nearby bench, belching and muttering curses, sick of life. Resigned to half-dead whores in tawdry saloons, sandwiched between long nights on the trail alone.
His words to Big Al came back. He'd never find another gal like the fortune teller. Sparkle was unique. That reassurance was precious little consolation. How many barrels of bourbon or reward payments would it take to wipe her out of his heart and mind? A hundred? Something had to sponge her away. Rafe had to forget the panel crib, Wichita, tarot card predictions…everything remotely connected to Spa
rkle LaFleur. He had to forget…
If he didn't, she'd still be able to destroy him. Suck his soul straight down into Hell.
CHAPTER 16
Sparkle hadn't slept a wink all night. She gave up at last, sensing dawn's rapid approach. The dresser mirror revealed purple smudges beneath her eyes. Her reflection was grim. Her face had never looked so old and worn, so bitter.
The only face she'd seen look worse was Rafe's when he walked out on her.
She'd made no attempt to go after him. She'd been too frightened to even try. His warm brown eyes, reliably so soft as they held hers, had turned into the unblinking pits of a cobra. More black than brown, with no forbearance, only brittle hatred.
For the first time, Sparkle had actually quaked in terror of him. Terror for her life. For one fleeting instant, Rafe Conley had appeared exactly like what she knew he could be: a cold-blooded killer.
She'd bolted the door behind him, fled upstairs, and barricaded herself in her room. How had things gone so horribly wrong? she numbly asked herself. Her job at the saloon was gone. She'd helped kill a man. Jace had taken another woman to wife. Solid ground was now quicksand. Sparkle had never intended for any of it to turn out this way. She'd worked hard, scrimped and saved. For what? Her dreams had blown apart, her morals collapsed. She'd met Rafe and he'd changed everything. Then she'd lost him.
She had nothing left. Nothing.
Except a duty to find both an explanation Jace would accept about Rafe's abrupt departure, and a graceful way to resolve matters with the newlywed LaFleurs.
Sparkle swallowed back tears at the memory of the awful things she'd said the day before in the kitchen. She'd never liked Majesta; always been aware of the nurse's disdain. But Sparkle was still honest enough—honesty being perhaps the lone virtue she still retained—to admit she'd trusted Majesta implicitly to care for Jace. She owed the woman a grudging respect and loyalty, for Majesta had done more than tend Jace's withered body. She'd looked after his spirit and pride, as well. Allowed him to grow to love the woman he depended upon, exactly as Sparkle had intended…except she was to have been that woman.
But she hadn't been here with Jace, night and day for the past several years. Hadn't helped him mature from a gangly, withdrawn youth into the decisive man he was now. That much Sparkle understood, despite her jealousy and wounded pride. Jace was the man of the house. No spoiled tyrant, but sure of himself. He didn't apologize for his deficiencies. How much of his inner confidence was due to Majesta's influence? Sparkle needed to find out.
She went into the kitchen, poured a cup of tea, and asked to see Jace alone. She wheeled him into his study and took a long, revitalizing sip of the hot liquid.
"Jace, I'm ashamed of the way I acted yesterday. My behavior was uncalled for, unconscionable. I'm truly sorry for it. I don't expect you to forgive me. But knowing you, you probably will."
"I already have," he answered simply. "I should have told you last time you came home that I was considering marriage. I knew my feelings for Majesta long ago, but it took some months for me to work up nerve enough to propose. I admire Conley for being forthright in stating his feelings. He says you haven't accepted. I don't understand why. By the way, where is he this morning?" he frowned, noting for the first time the study was empty.
"I, uh…Rafe and I spoke after you went upstairs, and…I'm afraid he's gone."
"To a hotel, after I told him there was no reason to stay elsewhere?"
Sparkle silently sipped at her tea, shaking her head. Jace's expression darkened. "You don't mean gone, as in not coming back to call on you again?"
She averted her face, fighting back tears. She'd thought there weren't any left, after crying late into the night. "I wasn't very ladylike, as I said. He's had a change of heart. We broke it off."
"I'm so sorry, Sparkle." Jace's voice held genuine sadness. "He impressed me as the salt of the earth. Is there no chance you two might still work things out? That upset yesterday was just an altercation between siblings. He realizes that. He told me so at the time. I don't understand this turn of events at all. Is it because of this other person he seemed to—"
Sparkle quickly wiped at her cheek. "It's not important. Perhaps it's for the best. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize and tell you I've lost my job. If you'll give me a few days to find a room somewhere, I'll be out of your hair."
"Don't be ridiculous! This is your home. My marriage has no bearing on that. There's plenty of room for all of us to live here. And you don't need to seek a new post right away. Take a rest. Regroup."
Sparkle set down her tea. "That's not possible. I've been paying Majesta all these years out of my wages. Unless you're planning to send her out to work, I have to find something fairly soon. I have some money put aside, but it can't last forever. Your trust fund won't support us all."
"Neither will you," Jace asserted. "Go find another stint of drudgery, working long hours and extra days whenever you can? Become a dried-up spinster with no prospects? I can't abide the thought of that, Sparkle. Don't you think I took our circumstances into consideration when I asked Majesta to marry me?"
"No, I honestly didn't think you had. She didn't have any suggestions. She assumes I'll work, as I always have."
"Well, it's not right to have my sister supporting this household alone. We must reassess matters, have a long talk…the three of us."
"Jace, please don't take on. I'd prefer to work. There are other sa—schools." Her spirits dampened as she realized what she'd almost blurted. And that she'd be back reading cards in one before a month was out.
"I didn't sleep very well," she mumbled. "I think I'll spend the day in my room."
"Please, have something to eat and get some rest," Jace agreed. "Conley seemed…an understanding man, particularly with regards to family," he said slowly. "If you think it would help, I'll contact him at his ranch."
Jace knew about the ranch? Sparkle thought with horror. She immediately shook her head. "No, Jace. This is personal. Please just leave it alone."
She left his study, and went straight up the stairs. Majesta appeared in the doorway and met Jace's troubled gaze. "Conley left yesterday," he informed her. "Seems he withdrew his marriage proposal after our little family debacle. She's lost her job, too."
"She told me."
"I reassured her that she's welcome to stay and gather her wits before making any decisions. She's rather confused at the moment, which is understandable. Already talking about finding another position somewhere. I don't want her pressured about money. Life is difficult enough for her, having just lost both her teaching post and her suitor."
"You mean her lover. Your sister and that stranger were more than friendly acquaintances."
"Oh, pshaw! You know Mother raised us with strict rules. Sparkle would never let a man take advantage. Besides, Conley never so much as held her hand."
Majesta crossed her arms over her full bosom. "You watched them, did you?"
"Of course I did. Tried not to make it obvious, but I was curious, so of course."
"But not closely enough," Majesta replied with confidence. "When two people can't keep their eyes off each other, yet never lay a finger on one another, it's generally because they can't trust themselves to leave it at a finger." She arched a brow at him. "Didn't it strike you as odd, her showing up with him out of nowhere? He claimed he'd been courting her for over a year. Why hadn't she mentioned him before? She was just here a month or so ago. She could have told you someone was calling on her. Why hide their relationship, if it was proper and chaste?"
Jace had been ready to dismiss his wife's suspicions until she asked that. The question plagued him for the next hour. Could she be right about Sparkle and the rancher? If she was, Conley's decision to break things off made even less sense. Sparkle had been upset with the LaFleurs, after all, not Conley. Though she did bark at him to shut up at one point…
Ludicrous, he told himself. If they'd been lovers for any time, the fellow surely would
have weathered a fit of pique. He'd mentioned something about her boiling over…And looked darned uncomfortable, now that Jace reflected back on it. Maybe there was something to Majesta's mistrust.
Jace didn't like to think of Sparkle being misused and cast aside so easily. But if Majesta was wrong, why indeed had Sparkle kept the relationship secret? Because of this mysterious "other man" Conley hinted at?
Someone Conley intimated she knew here in the city. The problem with that line of reasoning was that Jace didn't believe it was true. There would have been signs…personal notes, flowers, a rosy glow in Sparkle's cheeks when she came through the front door. Something. So what the hell was going on?
If Sparkle and Conley had a sexual liaison, she should have jumped at his proposal. Jace sensed it was genuine on the cattleman's part. He cared for Jace's sister, his feelings had been plain to read on his rugged face. Sparkle should have gladly accepted an offer of marriage from him, not manufactured some tale about a non-existent rival. Unless it wasn't a tale. But it had to be, didn't it? Unless…his mind reached the only other possible conclusion. She hadn't told anyone about this "other man" because she'd become involved with some other woman's husband.
They would have a serious talk, Jace decided, and soon. He wouldn't let her put him off this time. She had a way of evading questions and turning conversations away from herself. Not now, by God. If she'd been ill-used by Conley or some married local gent, Jace would do whatever necessary to put things right. Even if that meant threatening to reveal an ongoing affair to some poor matron, in order to keep her husband home with his trousers buttoned.
Three days later, Jace saw his opportunity. Majesta had gone out shopping. Sparkle had taken her laundry to the basement. They were alone in the house. He'd never get a better chance to speak to her candidly about her social life. He inched his chair near the open basement doorway and called down to his sister.
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