“Briana, you’re trying my—” He saw the look come over her face as her eyes went to Hollister, who was enjoying the scene. Gavin snickered at her expression. “He knows everything, so don’t worry about what I say in front of him. I had to have somebody around here I could trust—and it damn sure isn’t you.”
“Don’t worry about me sayin’ nothin’,” Hollister cackled. “I’m in for a piece of the action now, so I’m gonna be watchin’ you every bit as close as he does. One wrong move, and I’ll be on you like a coyote on a rabbit.”
Briana looked into Gavin’s evil, grinning face and knew she could stand no more. “I want out of this. I want to go back to France. I’ll put Charles’s life in God’s hands. I’ll find a way to help him without stooping to your filthy—”
Gavin twisted her arm harder, and she yelped with the excruciating pain. “Listen to me, or I’ll break your arm. You’re in this to stay. Your brother’s life is not in God’s hands; it’s in mine. You try to run away from me before I’m finished here, and I’ll see that his miserable life is ended. And you know I mean it. You’re in this to the end. You take orders from me and Hollister, and the next time you dare talk back to me in front of someone, I’ll turn you over to Hollister and let him finish what he started out there on the prairie.”
Briana was trembling, but not with fear. Oh, no, she was far too enraged to cower before those ruthless bastards. “I’ll go back inside now,” she said, “but I’m warning you, Gavin, you’d better hurry up and get us out of here. And you, Hollister, if you touch me ever again, I’ll find a way to kill you.”
She fled.
Colt slowed his horse. He had decided not to camp for the night, but to get home as soon as possible, for the closer to home he got, the more something urged him onward. He had been away far too long, had let his heart overrule his good sense.
Never again. He had come out of his time with Becky a smarter man, and more than once during the journey home, he’d recalled his father saying that even if awareness was all that came out of a bad experience, then the experience was worth something.
Now Colt stared at the ranch buildings, all looming ghostlike in the moonlight, except for the big house. Light glowed within the house. He moved his horse on, but slowly. Something was up, and he knew better than to ride into an unknown situation without being cautious.
As he drew closer, he saw there were many carriages and wagons by the house.
He dismounted at the bunkhouse, walking the rest of the way. He hadn’t gone far when he saw a man coming toward him. Instinctively his hand moved to his gun.
Branch Pope saw him, stopped only for an instant to stare in disbelief, then ran forward to pound Colt on the back jubilantly. “Hot damn!” he cried. “I ain’t never been so glad to see anybody. I was about to come get you. What’s kept—”
“What’s going on?” Colt interrupted.
Branch followed Colt’s narrow-eyed gaze toward the brightly lit house. Faintly, they heard music. “It’s a party,” he said very slowly, stepping away from his friend in case there was an explosion.
“Who’s having a party in my house?” Colt snapped.
Branch let him have it. “A party to welcome your sister.”
Colt whipped around to stare at Branch. Had he heard right?
Branch nodded. “That’s what I said. Dani’s come home—and when you hear all I’ve got to tell you, you’re going to be mighty glad you have, too.”
Chapter Thirteen
Colt spent the night in the bunkhouse, listening to what Branch had to tell him, then sorting it all out. He knew he’d better be clearheaded before encountering the half sister he’d not seen in fourteen years.
He was not surprised Dani was there. In the back of his mind he’d wondered all along whether she would take the opportunity to claim her fortune without the tension of having to see their father.
But why had she stayed? Why didn’t she just take her share of the money and go?
He had wondered before why his father didn’t just send her the money. His mother explained that she and Travis hoped to see Dani, hoped she would come to Paris to visit them once she learned they were there.
Colt was more than a little resentful that Dani could be so cold. She wanted her money, but she was too unfeeling to mend the fences and make peace with his parents. What kind of a person is she? he asked himself, truly astonished by her selfishness. Well, selfish or not, she was home. And he would have to deal with her.
But what the hell was her stepbrother doing sticking his nose into Coltrane family business? Who the hell did he think he was, trying to fire Branch and put a drifter in charge of things on a ranch he had no claim on?
Hollister came into the bunkhouse in the wee hours. Colt had taken a cot at the farthest end after instructing the other men to keep silent about his being there. The men were all dying to ask questions, but knew from experience that Colt was closemouthed until he decided it was time to speak. Before they had all turned in for the night, Colt had heard enough from them to know they were very resentful of the situation and hoped he would quickly put things right. He made no comment about Gavin Mason, said nothing controversial.
Early-morning sunlight streamed through the windows. The wranglers had arisen long ago, hitting the range by the time the first shadows of night yielded to daybreak.
All the wranglers, that is, except Dirk Hollister, who stayed behind, eyeing Colt’s bunk. He asked Branch why one man remained in his bunk, burrowed beneath his blanket, and Branch told him that it was a new man he’d hired, and that the man wasn’t feeling well.
“Great,” Hollister said sarcastically. “You hired a sick bum who’ll probably get all of us sick, too. Wait till Mason hears about this.”
As Branch was leaving, Hollister goaded him. “You know your days here are numbered, old man. Mason ain’t gonna put up with you. If you were smart, you’d make things easy on yourself. Just get your gear and ride on outta here.”
Branch did not reply. He left, and Hollister followed.
When, at last, Colt was alone, he rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. There was, he decided, only one road to take. He’d find out what Dani’s intentions were, and then deal with Mason. This was Dani’s home, and he couldn’t ask her to leave. But he damn well didn’t have to put up with Gavin Mason.
He got up, washed, shaved, found some clean clothes that belonged to one of the hands, and grabbed a couple of biscuits and a mug of coffee.
He was about to go to the big house when Hollister walked in. “Well, well, Sleeping Beauty has awakened,” he sneered. “You don’t look sick to me, stranger. You look like a goddamn goldbrick. We don’t need your kind. Get out of here.”
Colt sipped his coffee. “I thought Pope was the foreman.”
Hollister snorted. “I’m running things. Now git!”
Colt took his time finishing the coffee, which only infuriated Hollister. Then Colt took his hat from its place on a nail by the door, and started out.
“Maybe you don’t hear so good, stranger. I said get your stuff, then get out.”
Colt was almost through the door. Hollister clamped a hand on his shoulder, shouting, “Don’t get me riled—”
Colt hit him so fast Dirk never saw the movement. One moment he was standing, and then he was crashing backward against chairs, toppling them as he fell to the floor.
Colt tipped his hat and smiled. “Don’t get me riled.” He took a step toward the door again, then added, “By the way, the name’s Coltrane.”
Colt entered the house through the back door, greeting the startled servants.
He was walking through the downstairs rooms, looking at the mess left from the party, when Carlota, the Mexican woman who’d been in charge of the household staff for as long as Colt could remember, rushed in.
“Oh, Señor Colt, I am so glad to see you,” she cried. Colt nodded, knowing how upset the servants must be. He continued to look around. It had, he noted,
been quite a party. Expensive, from the looks of the empty wine and champagne bottles, the hundreds of wilting roses.
Carlota’s eyes were wide as she said, “Last night, Señor Mason gave a big party. I am sorry for all this mess, but it was nearly sunrise before all the guests left, so we started to clean only a little while ago.”
Sensing that she was taking his silence for disapproval over the condition of the house, Colt smiled pleasantly at her. “Just take your time, Carlota. There’s no great rush. Now, where is Dani? Still sleeping?”
Carlota shook her head. “Oh, no. She was up early, wanting to help us, but I gave her coffee and told her to go back upstairs and just get out of the way. She is nice.” She smiled hesitantly. “Not like Señor Mason. He curses at us, and we’re not used to unkindness.”
Colt nodded. After exchanging pleasantries and reassuring her, he left Carlota and went upstairs. Assuming Dani had been using the room that was once hers, he went to that door and knocked. A soft voice called, “Come in.”
She was seated in a chair by the open window, a book in her hands, wearing a yellow satin robe patterned with tiny blue flowers. Her long hair, tied back from her face, glowed like burnished copper in the brilliant sunlight.
At once, Colt silently acknowledged that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Briana was wary. What was this stranger doing in her bedroom? But as she looked into his eyes—the warmest, most tender eyes she had ever seen—somehow, she knew she had nothing to fear. “What is it?” she asked quietly.
He did not speak for several moments. In his mind, the years were rolling back. It was difficult to imagine this lovely woman as the same spoiled little brat who had left him her mark on his face the last time they were together. She looked so gentle, so…sweet.
He shook his head. Fourteen years was a long time. A lot could happen in all that time to change a person.
Briana waited for him to speak, her gaze sweeping over him. He was tall and muscular. His complexion was dark, his hair so black as to gleam with blue highlights. The eyes she found so overwhelmingly appealing were gray and fringed by long, thick lashes. He was, she thought, the handsomest man she had ever encountered in her entire life.
Colt crossed the room and stood before her. “I’m your brother.”
Briana’s hands began trembling. Dear Lord, Gavin had warned her it would happen like this, that one day, out of the blue, John Travis Coltrane would appear.
When she did not speak, Colt settled himself in a chair opposite her. “So,” he began, “you’ve come home.”
“And so have you,” she managed to counter.
He was able, despite the tension, to smile at her with some fondness. “It’s been a while, Dani. Fourteen years, I believe? As I sit here looking at you, it’s as though we’ve never met.”
We haven’t, she thought, then began struggling to obtain command of the situation. She had to remember all Gavin had drilled into her. “Fourteen years is a long time. I feel the same way about you, John Travis.”
“Folks call me Colt, have since I was about sixteen.”
“Colt, then,” she said. “I realize this is awkward for both of us. You’re probably surprised to see me.”
He shook his head, the warmth beginning to evaporate. “I figured you’d show up sooner or later. Money can mend a lot of fences.”
Gavin had warned her to expect resentment, but she was hurt. This was silly, she admonished herself. She shouldn’t be hurt. She wasn’t Dani. “I would like nothing better than for us to be close,” she said awkwardly.
“Close with me?” He laughed, a brittle sound. “What about our father? It’s his money you’ve come to claim, you know. I should think you’d be appreciative enough that you’d want to see him. He’s been pretty hurt by the way you’ve treated him.”
Gavin had coached her. “I can’t expect you to understand why things happened as they did. I never really wanted things to be the way they were.”
“Then why were they?”
Briana lifted her chin. She did not, Gavin had told her over and over, have to justify Dani’s presence or her claim on the estate. “I have already told you that I do not expect you to understand my feelings, so there is no point in my attempting to explain. Some things, I feel, are better left unsaid. It is enough that I am here. This is my home, Colt. If you resent me, then that is too bad, but I have the right to be here.”
He sat back in the chair and silently appraised this stranger who was his half sister. Confident. High-spirited. Self-assured. If he wanted to be pleasant, then she would be pleasant. If he wanted to be nasty, he would bet she could be just as difficult. The spoiled little girl who could be goaded into a violent temper tantrum was no more. This was a poised, mature woman.
“All right,” he assented, “you’re here to claim what’s yours. I don’t argue with that.” He paused, then said, “Let’s talk about Gavin Mason and where he fits in.”
Not quite sure what to say, Briana shrugged.
“I arrived last night,” Colt said frostily, “while your soiree was in progress. I didn’t want to intrude, so I spent the night in the bunkhouse.
“By the way,” he added pointedly, “I met your Dirk Hollister. I understand he fancies himself the new foreman.”
He did not miss the way her expression changed.
“He is not my Dirk Hollister, and I assure you he was told last night that I have no intention of seeing Mr. Pope dismissed.”
Colt shook his head in disbelief at her temerity. “Well, I’m awfully glad to know that, Dani. I do appreciate your not firing my foreman. He’s only worked with the family for ten years. I think it’s real nice of you not to march in here and kick him out.”
Briana was not moved by his sarcasm. Why should she be? None of this, she reminded herself, had anything to do with her, not really. She was playing a role, that was all.
He looked at her carefully, puzzled that she could remain so calm. Nothing he said riled her. “So what about Mason?” he demanded. “Who the hell is he, and why’s he here?”
She knew the words by heart. “Gavin is my stepbrother, Aunt Alaina’s adopted son. We are very close, and when I announced I was coming to America, he insisted on coming with me because he said it wasn’t safe for me to travel alone. He’s been a marvelous help to me, especially after I got here and learned of your recent misfortune…”
“My personal life has nothing to do with any of this,” Colt snapped, “just as Gavin Mason hasn’t got a damn thing to do with what goes on at this ranch. Now, I’ve heard about how he’s ordered the hands around, and the servants. That is going to stop now. He’s not to come here unless he’s invited. If you don’t like that arrangement, then I suggest you move into Silver Butte so you can be with him. Which”—he paused, reminding himself not to let his temper get the best of him—“leads to my next question: Why have you been staying on here? Why didn’t you get what’s yours and go back to France?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes,” he said, “it is. It’s all taken care of. Father explained it to me carefully. You get a sum of cash, and I’ve already signed papers agreeing to buy out your share of the ranch and the silver mine. Hell, there’s a lot of money just sitting there waiting for you. What, for God’s sake, isn’t simple?”
The next words she had been ordered to say were the most difficult.
“I—I want to live here, Colt. I want to see what my homeland is really like.” She kept her gaze on the wall, so she wouldn’t have to look at his face.
Colt was stunned. Never had he expected this. He could hardly say, “I don’t want you here.”
When he didn’t say anything, Briana asked, “Do you begrudge my staying here—in my own home?”
He shook his head. She had every right. “If that’s what you want, then fine, but,” he added firmly, “I run things. Have your parties, sure, but I run the house. Me. Not Gavin Mason. You can tell him t
o go back to France, but if he insists on leeching off you, then it will be your money he gets, not mine. Do we understand each other on that point?”
Briana was hating the encounter more with each passing moment, but she knew what she had to say. “Gavin can stay in my half of the house.”
Colt shook his head. “I won’t have it.”
“You have no choice.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Fine.”
They glared at each other, Colt gripping the arms of his chair to keep from exploding. Briana wanted to cry. He seemed like such a nice man, and oh, how she hated to see those tender, beautiful eyes staring at her with such contempt.
Colt stood. “We aren’t getting anywhere, Dani, so I’ll get things with Mason straightened out myself. I’ve already taken care of Hollister, and since you seem to hold your stepbrother in such high regard, I hope the, same means won’t be necessary with him.”
Briana was joyous with relief to hear about Hollister, but she schooled herself to show nothing.
He walked to the door, then turned. “Let’s get one more thing straight. If you’re going to stay here, you aren’t going to be a prima donna. You’re to do your share of the work around here, and you can start by getting dressed. I don’t know how the genteel ladies of France dress at this time of day, but around here, the womenfolk are up at daylight and ready to get to work. You can start by going downstairs and helping to clean up the mess your friends made last night.”
Briana fought the urge to grin. That was exactly what she wanted—to work, to do things, to become a part of this wonderful place.
He went out, then came in again to say stiffly, “By the way, Dani, welcome home.” And then he left.
Briana squeezed her hands together, feeling the full measure of her tension. Well, Gavin had met his match; she was sure of that. Once he found out that he wouldn’t be able to push Colt around, Gavin would take Dani’s share of the money and leave for France. The ruse would be over, and she would be free.
Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 Page 16