by Lisa Kleypas
Other men had well-behaved daughters, unassuming creatures who knew their places, women who would someday be obedient and pliable to the will of their husbands. But his daughter was wild, untamed, and beautiful. His disapproval of her independence warred with his pride in it. She thought for herself, she made decisions by herself, and there was almost no freedom he wouldn't get her.
"Let's go in to dinner," Russell said, holding out the crook of his arm, and Addie took it with a smile.
As soon as dinner was served and the edges were taken off everyone's appetite, the conversation began. Russell proved within five minutes that he was in fine fettle. "Well, Ben… I want to hear what that son-of-a-bitch fence cutter George Johnson had to say when you told him I want my fence back up!"
Caroline and her husband, Peter, winced at his loud voice and strong language, glancing at their ten-yearold daughter. Leah was staring raptly at her grandfather.
"Daddy," Caroline protested mildly, "the child-"
"Take the child up to bed," came the answering roar. "I want to hear what my son-of-a-bitch neighbor had t' say. He is what he is, and I won't call him anything else. Start talkin', Ben."
Addie glanced at Ben, whose face was perfectly inscrutable. There was, however, a betraying twinkle in his eye as he regarded Russell. You didn't have to know Russell long to understand that he thoroughly enjoyed working himself up into hearty bursts of temper. Leah was hurried upstairs by Caroline.
"We seem to have a few philosophical differences with Big George." Ben studied his table knife and turned it idly as he spoke. "Plainly speaking, he doesn't like your fence. He doesn't have one, and he doesn't see why you need one."
"I had that fence put up to protect my land," Russell said, his face reddening. "To protect Warner property from rustlers. And neighbors."
"Big George seems to think the range is open and belongs to everyone."
"He's got the wrong damned idea. What's inside my fence belongs to nobody but me!"
Ben looked at him and said nothing, a smile playing on his lips. Addie nearly caught her breath at the sight of him, with the soft evening light shining on his black hair and bronzed face. It was difficult not to stare like a foolish schoolgirl. And it was indeed foolish to be taken in by his looks. It didn't matter what a man was on the outside when he was capable of such betrayal, cruelty, and cunning. But he seemed so affectionate toward Russell. Could it be that even now he was looking at Russell with the idea of killing him uppermost in his mind? She turned her eyes away from him and forced her attention back on the conversation.
"… George said we'd built the fence too far into his property," Ben was saying.
"Hogwash!" Russell exploded.
"Oh, I don't know, Russ. You've always been one for cutting your slice of the pie a shade bigger than the others."
There was dead silence around the table as Russell stared at him bug-eyed. Ben met his gaze without flinching, that same smile still lingering on his lips. Addie was amazed at his daring. Suddenly Russell laughed deeply, and relieved chuckles erupted from the rest of the group. "Don't know why some say you're dishonest," Russell remarked, still chortling. "You're so honest it offends me. All right. What does that son-of-a-bitch George want in the way of… of… "
"Remuneration?”
"If that means slickin' his ruffled feathers down, yes."
"He wants half of that watering hole on the border of the property. And he wants to be paid for that maverick calf we… adopted."
"Adopted," Addie repeated, unable to resist breaking in. "First we stole it, now we adopted it. It sounds better every time I hear it told. You sound positively paternal, Ben, talking about that poor little lonesome critter who needed to be taken in."
He grinned at her. "I have a soft spot in my heart for neglected animals."
Their eyes met in challenge. "How altruistic."
"No, just enterprising."
May decided to interrupt their exchange. "I wish the two of you would quit tradin' words no one else understands." The statement was heartily seconded by the rest of the gathering, and Addie laughed as she stood up from the table.
"I'll leave while you discuss the details, then. I'm going to take a short walk outside, now that the air is cool. "
"Don't go too far," May cautioned.
"I won't, Mama." It startled Addie, to hear that word come so easily to her own lips, and her smile faded as she left the room.
The night air was cool and fresh. She inhaled the scent of it and knew there was something missing. There was a difference between this Sunrise and the one she had left. Here there was no seasoned, mellow fragrances of corn growing and fruit ripening. The farmers would not plow this ground and coax their harvest from it for another twenty or thirty years.
Sunrise was still the ranchers' domain. They liked the land raw and uncultivated, they liked the town frayed and comfortable, worn down and full of saloons. This was more of a man's world than the Sunrise she had come from. Moodily she kicked at a dry clod of earth and went to lean against the wooden fence by the house. There were lights on at the bunkhouse, and the muted sound of cowboys' laughter. Scattered across the ground were flashes of light. Fireflies winking at each other.
What am I doing here? she wondered as she braced her forearms on the fence. Loneliness smote her all at once. She wanted Leah desperately, not the little-girl Leah but the woman who had been her only parent, the woman she had known all her life. She wanted someone who understood her, someone who knew her, not as the spoiled Adeline Warner but as the person she really was. Her throat was tight as she fought to control her longing. It wouldn't do to think about it, not when she had to turn all of her concentration to learning everything she could about her situation.
Sighing and closing her eyes, she leaned her head on her hands and tried to remember what Leah had told her about Adeline Warner's disappearance. It was all enshrouded in a haze of grief. Frowning deeply, she focused on the faint recollection of a name. She said she'd wanted to talk to someone. Diaz, I've got to find him. I've got to ask him-.
Addie heard the sound of booted feet behind her, felt the touch of someone's fingertips on her arm.
" Adeline-"
"Don't!" She spun around, her heart leaping. "Don't touch me!"
Ben held his hands up as if she were wielding a revolver. "Okay. Okay. No one's touching you."
She put her hand up to her chest, taking an unsteady breath. "Don't walk up behind me like that again."
"From the way you were leaning, I thought you were sick.
"Well, I wasn't. But you nearly frightened me to death."
She could see the white flash of his smile in the darkness. "Sorry."
"An apology from you," she said, exhaustion robbing her voice of its intended tartness. "It's been one surprise after another today."
"Your mother asked me to bring you back in."
"I have a question or two to ask you first."
He inclined his head slightly. "About?"
"For starters, where did you get your education?"
He braced an arm on the fence and leaned against it comfortably, sliding a hand into his pocket. "Is it so obvious that I have one? I'm flattered."
"I'd like to know. Please."
"'Please' from you. Now, that is a surprise. I'm almost tempted to tell you. But you wouldn't believe me."
"Did you go to college?"
"Harvard."
"You're lying."
"I said you wouldn't believe me. But it's true. I even graduated. After that, my father offered to pay me to stay away for good."
"Why?"
"Why? Obviously he didn't like my company," he murmured with a half-smile, and stood up from the fence. "Time to go in."
"Is your family from the Nor-"
"No more questions. I've bared my soul enough for one night." He reached to take her arm and stopped in mid-motion as she edged away from him. "Oh, yes. No touching. Come on, Adeline."
Everything he sai
d and did was carefully cataloged in her mind. She would have to remember it all. Maybe that was why she had found herself here. Maybe she was intended to expose the other side of him, to interrupt the events that would lead up to Russell's death. The fact that I'm here must change a lot of things. The fact that I'm here instead of Adeline Warner is just the beginning of it all. Everything will be different now. I'll make it different. I'll stop Russell's murder. I'll ruin Ben Hunter before it ever gets that far.
After she retired for the night, she turned fitfully as questions burned through her mind. There were things she had to know. Things she had to find out tomorrow. Addie threw off the light sheet that covered her and rolled over onto her stomach, hot and frustrated… frightened.
Her thoughts stilled as the clear, lovely notes of a guitar floated through the windows from a distance. Haunting, sweet music. Was that Ben? She didn't know the melody, but it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, soothing and faultlessly played. She could sense the entire ranch settling down to listen. Soon Addie ceased to wonder at the source of the music and relaxed. How could someone like Ben play something so beautiful? she thought drowsily, and then she thought of Leah, sleeping only a few rooms away. She wondered if Leah was listening.
3
ADDIE WAS UP AT DAWN WITH THE OTHERS, UNABLE to stay in bed while the smell of breakfast crept stealthily through the air and the sound of quiet morning conversation floated up to her from the dining room. She washed and dressed quickly, feeling strangely at peace in spite of a long and restless night.
Was there any way to get back to the Sunrise she belonged in? She didn't know how to go back-she didn't know how she'd gotten here in the first place. What if she was stuck here forever? Addie shivered at the thought and pushed it aside. There was no use worrying about that. It didn't seem as if she could do anything about it. If it was all a dream, it would end sometime. And if she was crazy, it was better to pretend to herself and everyone else that she wasn't.
But there was something practical for her to think about. Russell Warner was still alive, and she might be the only one who could keep him that way. To the rest of the family and everyone in Sunrise, she would be Adeline. She would figure out how to be who they thought she was. From now on, no one would notice anything peculiar about her. And while he was fooling them all, she would find some way to expose Ben for what he was and stop him from killing Russell. As things stood now, Russell would be murdered just after fall roundup. She had until then to change everything.
Addie went downstairs with a light step. As she walked into the dining room, she painted on a bright smile. "Good morning," she said airily, seating herself by May.
"What in tarnation's got you so happy?" Russell demanded. His eyes twinkling.
"Nothing." She leaned to the side as the maid reached over to pour her coffee.
"I think it may have something to do with Jeff," May said, pleased by the thought. "Isn't that right, Adeline?"
"It might be," Addie conceded, stirring sugar into her coffee. "I have to admit, Jeff is super."
A blank silence greeted her statement.
"Super?"
Addie realized her mistake and covered it hastily. "New expression." You'll hear it about fifty years from now. "It means nice… wonderful."
Russell chuckled. "Don't know why young people have to go makin' up new words. We got all we need."
"Because young people always think they're feelin' things no one has ever felt before," Caroline said reasonably. "Thinkin' up new words only makes sense to 'em."
"Adeline, are you going to see Jeff again today?" May's face was warm with motherly interest.
"Well, we'd talked about it."
"I want Adeline to be out with me today," Russell interrupted brusquely.
There was a short silence around the table. Then May spoke with a frown etched on the comers of her mouth, displeasure knitting her brow. "Later you can take Cade-"
"Cade will be in school all day," Russell countered, his jaw set obstinately. "And Adeline and me haven't been ridin' in a long time. She wants to go. Don't you, punkin?"
Addie nodded eagerly. "Yes. It sounds like a fine idea. "
"We'll look over the ranch, see things are bein' done right, won't we, honey?"
She grinned at him. "We sure will."
"Wait." Ben's eyes darkened with annoyance. "The men don't need to have her looking over their shoulders and putting in her two cents about what they're doing."
Addie sat up straighter in her chair, looking directly at him. "I won't say a thing to anyone."
"You don't have to," he replied curtly. "Just looking at you is going to distract them." He turned to Russell, his voice becoming softer, more persuasive. "We've got a lot of things to do today, and no time to put up with her antics. Most of them get to see a woman seldom enough, Russ, and they can't help staring. But to have one right there while they're trying to work, and one that looks like Adeline-it's asking a little much, isn't it?"
Addie frowned, wondering if there had been a compliment hidden in there. It was hard to tell. "I'm glad you've got a foreman smart enough to tell us what to do, Daddy," she said, her eyes round. If she'd had Mary Pickford curls, she would have twirled one around her finger.
Russ harrumphed irritably. "No one tells me what to do with my daughter, Ben. She's lookin' over the ranch with me today. "
"By all means." Ben's face was smooth, wiped clean of all emotion.
By the time Addie and Russell arrived at the barn, Ben had already left to organize the ranch hands as they began the projects that would keep them busy all summer. The horses were saddled and ready to go. Russell exchanged a few words with one of the cowboys who had been assigned to do some of the necessary farmwork near the ranch. Someone had to take care of the chickens and gather eggs, harvest alfalfa hay and stack it.
Making hay was a difficult job. It took experience to know when the hay was well-cured, when the color was right, how long it should lie in the swath after being mowed, and when it was dry enough to be stacked. It was drying out in the fields right now, changing color under the bright, hot Texas sun. There was nothing like the sweet smell of well-cured hay. It had a perfume that seemed to saturate the air for miles around.
But the cowboys took little pleasure in such work.
They felt it was beneath their dignity to perform such tasks-why, that was a job for sodbusters, not cowboys! And since they were merciless in their teasing of each other, the hands who had to do sodbuster work were artfully ridiculed by the other cowpunchers.
While Russell was talking with the ranch hand, Addie approached Jessie from the side. " 'Morning, Jessie. I see you're not wearing that nasty old sidesaddle today. What a pretty horse you are. Yes, you are." Jessie's head turned in her direction, ears twitching expectantly. "We're not going to have any problems like we did yesterday," Addie continued, reaching a hand in her pocket and pulling out a lump of sugar. "We're making a deal, Jessie-you know what it is-and this is evidence of my good faith. And believe me, if you live up to your end of the bargain, there's more where this came from."
Jessie bent her head and took the sugar delicately between her lips, looking at her with wary brown eyes. Suddenly she gobbled it and pushed her nose strongly against Addie's midriff, nudging her for more. "I can tell we're going to be good friends," Addie said conversationally, pulling out another lump and extending it to the horse. Jessie's nose was as soft as velvet as it brushed her palm in search of the sugar. She stroked the side of the mare's neck and showed her the spurless boots she wore. "See, Jessie? Slick-heeled, just for you."
Jessie offered not one twitch of protest as Addie slipped the tip of her boot into the stirrup and hoisted herself up into the saddle. After swinging a leg over the saddle, she arranged her divided skirt and looked at Russell expectantly. He had just finished his conversation.
"I'm ready."
"Looks like y'are." Russell mounted his horse, a large white gelding named General Cott
on, and they rode away from the house, out into the range. "I guess you know your mama wasn't too happy 'bout this," he said, looking like a boy who had just gotten away with a prank..
"I don't understand why," she replied, sincerely puzzled. "What could be wrong with me looking over the ranch with you?"
"She's always had plans for you, Adeline. Plans about making you into somethin' you aren't meant to be. Sending you to that school in Virginia to learn about fancy manners and poetry books, hoping you'd' find some eastern lawyer or businessman to hitch up with-well, I knew it wouldn't work. I knew you'd want to come back where you belong. Cade and Caroline favor your mama. She wasn't born to ranching. She's settled into this life pretty well, but in her heart she'll never stop hankerin' for her people in the East. But I think you favor me, Adeline. And you and I were born to this." He waved his hand at the land in front of them. "Look around you. Would you trade all this to live in a hotel or a town house with the kind of goody-goody May wants for you? You don't want a man decked out in city clothes, someone with soft hands and white skin, afraid of dirt and animals, and everything that's nat'ral. They city whips the manliness out of 'em. Our boys out here are rough-cut, Adeline, but they're men, and they got respect for a woman. Too much respect to let 'er wear the pants in the family and do their work. A man out here knows how to take care of a woman."
Addie listened to him with growing alarm. She didn't want to wear the pants in the family or to bully any man. If or when her thoughts ever turned to marriage, she would need the kind of husband who would let her be his partner, his lover and friend. Was it useless to hope that someday she would find someone who would let her be his equal?
"Let's talk about something else," she said, her forehead creasing, and obligingly Russ started lecturing heron the running of the ranch. The horses' hooves splashed through a shallow stream, then thudded along the edge of an alfalfa field. A line of trees bordered the other side, having been planted there to act as a windbreak. On the other side of the field, the lush green of the land turned to the dry brown-green of true rangeland. Addie noticed that all the trees they passed by had clipped edge on the bottoms, like skirts that had been hemmed too short.