Farrah frowned but joined arms with Rhia and they moved toward the doorway and down the stairs that led to the big rear yard where the many wagons and coaches were parked. There was already a bustle of activity as guests began to head home.
“Why should I let some man lead me around a dance floor as if I’m too stupid to know where to put my feet?” Farrah complained, taking up the argument again. “It’s a metaphor for the way they treat us. What’s wrong with wanting to be the master of my own fate?”
“Nothing.” Rhia patted Farrah’s hand. Don Alejandro ruled his home with an iron fist. Nothing was beyond his control. She was as independent as Farrah wanted to be but Rhia knew it wasn’t all her friend thought it was. “Life on your own isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. If I make a mistake, I could lose everything. Raul follows my orders but never does more than what I specifically tell him to do. Angus is just plain cantankerous. He refuses to take orders at all.” She shook her head. “He’s always liked sheep more than people.”
“You seem to handle it so easily I forget Adara could fail. Are you worried about coming out from behind the disguise? The men flocked around you tonight like a swarm of bees to a newly opened bloom.”
“I feel…exposed,” Rhia admitted. “And confused. I kind of wish I’d resisted dressing up and coming tonight. The other half of me wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” They reached the busy yard. A breeze blew softly from the west carrying a sweet scent on the air. “When Abby made me try the dresses on, it was to needle Dylan. But I’d already been thinking how sick I was of hiding behind baggy men’s clothes. I’d gotten to where I was more afraid of ending up some strange smelly hermit than of the consequences of being seen for who I am. I’m still not sure what I feared more but now there’s only one possible consequence left to face.”
Farrah squeezed her hand. “Are you afraid no one will come calling or that whoever does won’t treat you as an equal once you marry him?”
“I didn’t think ahead. I just reacted, you know? Abby all but shoehorned me into the first dress. But when I looked in the mirror, I wanted to be the person staring back at me. I didn’t think further than that.” She gazed at Dylan where he waited. “There’s only one man I’d want to come calling anyway,” she muttered under her breath.
“Maybe I should give that man a little push in your direction,” Farrah said.
She’d heard! Rhia stopped dead in her tracks, pulling Farrah to a stop, too. Farrah was unpredictable and likely to do anything once she got an idea in her head. “Don’t you dare say one word to him. I’d be mortified. Promise me.”
Farrah sighed. “Fine. Now let’s go. Papa’s going to be fit to be tied that I’m out this late. Which means he and Dylan will have another fight.”
She followed Farrah hurrying toward the gig where Dylan awaited. But George Bentley came rushing up the path from the side garden. “Miss Oliver, I wondered if you would—”
“Sorry, Bentley,” Dylan said as he stepped between them. “I have to get my sister and Rhi— Uh…Miss Oliver home then be back here to catch some shut-eye. Days around here start with the dawn. We don’t keep bankers’ hours.”
Rhia nearly groaned in relief at Dylan’s interruption. George seemed nice but he was a bank teller as Dylan had just pointed out. They had nothing at all in common.
She scrambled into the gig with Dylan’s help and Farrah followed. He walked around the gig and looked up with a smile. “Now to take the two prettiest ladies in Texas home.”
Farrah emitted an unladylike snort but all Rhia could think about was what he’d said. And this time she wouldn’t let sour thoughts intrude.
That was pretty hard to do, though, because it was the last thing Dylan said on the whole ride. He just drove and seemed to brood. Silent. Stiff. Farrah peppered the air with meaningless small talk.
But she’d been a bit uncommunicative herself, caught up in her confused thoughts. When they arrived at Belleza, Rhia was shocked, having ignored the passing scenery. Farrah’s smug grin told the story of what she’d missed. Her former friend had apparently talked Dylan into dropping her home first. Now Rhia would be alone with Dylan.
I’ll throttle her.
Rhia was as close to heartbroken as she’d been since her father took his final breath. Dylan would never be interested in her even all gussied up and looking her best. Couldn’t Farrah see that? Rhia stiffened her back. Well, so what! She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone.
Still, she didn’t know how she’d live in Tierra del Verde knowing that at any time she might see him courting some woman who’d moved there, then hearing of their marriage or later about the birth of their children.
She tightened her hands where she had them tangled in her lap. Becoming a smelly hermit didn’t sound half bad right then. She should have stayed hidden. She’d come out into the open. Exposed herself. Probably weakened her standing as a landowner. She’d certainly made herself look vulnerable. And all for nothing. Now she’d have to face the consequences. Alone.
Then she got to wondering what she’d done earlier to put Dylan off. He’d insisted she dance with him and she hadn’t stepped on his feet or lost her place even once while they’d danced. Had her anger over trivialities shown in her manner while they’d been dancing? It must have. He’d changed somehow after the band ceased playing. The moment Farrah had given him an excuse, he’d all but fled the ballroom. Which meant, unplanned and ill-timed as this night had been, she’d exposed everything for nothing.
The ride to Adara wasn’t as silent as the ride to Belleza but it was full of the same kind of meaningless small talk. Just as they topped the rise overlooking Adara’s homestead, Rhia took one last deep breath, sure it would be the last time she got to enjoy Dylan’s earthy lime and leather scent along with his warmth pressed against her shoulder.
Then she noticed the silence and all thought of her failure that night fled. The ominous feel of impending disaster crawled over her. She put a staying hand on Dylan’s forearm. “Stop,” she whispered. “Something’s wrong. The sheep are too quiet. Especially for a night with a full moon.”
Dylan canted his head listening, too. He hadn’t acted on her hunch alone but at least he’d listened for the worrisome silence. Would he have questioned another man or taken him at his word?
Then, without another whispered word between them, he pulled the gig to the side of the road into the shadow of a big oak. “Wait here.” His reply barely audible, he pulled his revolver from the holster on his hip, flipped it over and offered her the pistol grip. “Tie up the rig and hide. Use it if you have to but, Rhia, save a bullet.” Then he yanked his Winchester from under the seat, jumped down and headed into the shadows.
The sharp sound of Dylan cocking the Winchester brought his last words to her thoughts. Save a bullet. What he’d left unsaid was—for yourself. A woman alone was in danger.
Chapter Four
Dylan ducked under a low-hanging branch of a big old oak. Moving through the dense woods, he kept his steps as silent as possible. When he emerged from the cover of the brush, it was with a sinking heart.
In all directions the full moon revealed Rhia’s northern-slope flock—still, silent, slaughtered. He made his way to a shadowy form on the ground. Angus, her grizzled old shepherd. He’d been murdered and it looked like the work of the Comanche.
Most of the tribe had signed a treaty but apparently this band of renegades had something other than peace in mind. He’d just bent down to close Angus’s sightless eyes when a thought occurred to him. Comanche raided for food, horses, useful goods and, yes, murder and mayhem. But it was unlike them to kill innocent animals in this wasteful way. They’d have stolen as many as they could for hides and food but they’d never kill this many animals so indiscriminately.
Puzzled, he looked below toward the homestead and sniffed. The bre
eze carried no smell of smoldering lumber. Adara’s house, barn and cabin looked to be intact. Yet in every other raid so far, the band had torched the buildings.
He rose turning slowly, deep in thought. With almost all the residents of town and the surrounding area attending the dance on the Rocking R, Rhia’s nearest neighbor, flames lighting up the sky and the smell of smoke on the breeze would have brought men running. But why would a renegade band of Indians know about the Spring Social?
Wanting to get back to Rhia, Dylan moved through the dead flock to the access road. He walked back up the hill. When he saw the faint silhouette of the gig, he called out, “Coming in,” not wanting to get shot full of holes.
Rhia crept out and went to the mare’s head, taking hold of the bridle, the revolver in her grip. “What happened?” she demanded, a small quaver in her voice.
“I’m sorry, Rowdy. There’s been a raid. Angus is dead.” He saw her flinch and her shoulders sagged when he added, “And your northern-slope flock is wiped out. I don’t know about the others. The buildings look intact from up here but I didn’t want to take the time to check and leave you alone and vulnerable.”
That Rhia didn’t argue a bit about her being vulnerable told him she was badly rattled. He took the revolver from her lax grip and put it back in his holster. “I’m nearly sure the attackers are gone,” he went on but didn’t add, because Angus is already cold. “Let’s go see how bad it is.”
Rhia nodded and silently walked to the seat of the gig. Shaking, she needed his help to climb up. Her expression looked as if she held on to her composure by a tenuous thread. He was tempted to leave straightaway but decided there was no use having her imagine it as worse than it was.
He climbed up next to Rhia and snapped the reins. They’d gotten as far as the yard when two figures stepped out from behind the big elm tree that dominated the site. Dylan nearly had his revolver out of its holster before he recognized Raul Hernandez and his wife, Consuela.
The two approached. Raul had his sombrero in his hand, looking apologetic. His woman had a belligerent tilt to her head. “We are sorry, Miss Rhia,” Raul said. “We can stay no longer. Angus is dead, no?”
Dylan nodded when Rhia stayed silent, staring toward the destruction filling the clearing ahead.
“We leave now,” Consuela Hernandez said. “They will get us all if we stay.”
“How did they miss you two?” Dylan asked.
“We hide in the cave near the stream,” Raul replied.
“Didn’t you even try to help Angus?” Dylan demanded of Raul. The man’s face crumpled and he looked away. Dylan liked to think he’d have tried but did any man know how he’d act until death came knocking?
“He would not have come to help Raul,” Consuela snapped.
More composed now, Raul explained, “I have Consuela and the bebé she expects. I stand no chance against so many. Howling and shooting comes from the north and warns us. Before we get to the cave, Angus…he no longer screams. They come look for us as if they know we are here but the cave the señorita shows us is well hidden.”
Consuela nodded, looking around at the mess Dylan’s eyes had finally adjusted enough to see. “They go through sus casas, Señorita. They make much mess but take only money jar and armas y balas.”
Dylan frowned, thinking. “Guns and bullets make sense, but money?” Then he glanced next to him to see if Rhia had picked up on the inconsistencies. But she just sat there. Silent as her dead shepherd and sheep. Completely unlike the Rhia he knew. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe.
The thought shocked him. Was it the dress or had he seen a part of her she usually hid from the world? He’d never thought of her as needing protection. She’d always been so strong and capable. This feeling was as out of place as the peculiarities of the raid were.
He stifled a sigh at the destruction littering the clearing ahead. Torn curtains hung out of broken windows. Pieces of crockery and cloth items had been trampled into the ground.
“I have to go for the sheriff then take Rhia to Belleza. You two can pack up and use her wagon to get to town.” He wasn’t happy about the couple’s desertion of Rhia but he couldn’t say he didn’t understand. They’d had quite a scare. Lesser men had cleared out after the first raid last year.
“You can talk to Sheriff Quinn or Ranger Kane about what you heard and saw when you get there.”
Dylan turned to Rhia. “Querida, can I get you anything from the house before we leave?”
She glanced toward the house again, then just shook her head. He’d expected an argument or maybe even tears. They’d have scared the bejezus out of him but her soundless answer, like the lost look in her eyes, was as haunting as the ranch’s silent little yard.
Minutes later he’d turned the gig around and headed toward town. After reporting the raid to the law, he’d take her on to Belleza. She was nearly as close to his mother as she was to Farrah. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with his father but tonight it was Rhia who mattered.
He also had to talk to the old man about taking precautions. They could just as easily have attacked Belleza. At least Rhia had been thinking ahead. He was sure Raul and Consuela were only alive because Rhia had shown them the cave where they’d all played as children.
His thoughts went back to Farrah and his mother. The most ferocious guards on Belleza were the dogs whose job it was to protect the sheep from predators.
Dogs.
Dammit! He hadn’t seen evidence of Rhia’s dog, Scout, on that hill or Angus’s dogs, either. He hoped they’d successfully run from the sound of the guns. Maybe it was just as well he hadn’t thought to look. He didn’t think Rhia could take another loss tonight.
With Rhia sitting next to him frozen in shock, Dylan was at a loss as to what to say to her. So, as he had on the way to Belleza after the social, he drove in stony silence fighting the instinct to hold her and promise to always keep her safe.
He’d been so consumed with desire for her earlier he hadn’t thought about the poor timing of her sudden emergence as a desirable woman. Now because of the waltz and, influenced by her nearness, what he’d said during it, he had to be very careful how he offered comfort. He didn’t want to hurt her but he wasn’t ready to take on a wife. Especially not one who stubbornly clung to the idea of making her father’s dream come true by making a success of Adara. She couldn’t be the woman for him no matter how much he wished it were otherwise.
The stop in town to alert Ryan Quinn about the raid took only moments, then they headed for Belleza.
As he drew the gig even with the front door of his parents’ hacienda, it flew open and the don stormed out in full high dudgeon. “I care not if the rest of the females of the area are allowed to dance at that Englishman’s to all hours. What were you thinking to bring your sister home so late? And what have you been doing with Rhiannon Oliver all this time? What if someone discovers you’ve been—”
“Shut. Up.” Dylan’s voice cracked into the air and shocked the old man into silence. “Get Mama,” he told Farrah who’d followed her father out of the house. Dylan jumped to the ground and scooped Rhia unresisting into his arms. When he turned, his father blocked his path to the house. Dylan wanted to simply walk away as he usually did but tonight was different. Dylan ordered, “Stand aside. This is no time for you to get on your high horse about bloodlines. Rhia’s had a nasty shock. Adara was raided while she was gone.”
Miraculously his father gave way but he followed them inside, demanding, “Why bring her here?”
Dylan refused to react to the don’s coldheartedness. He set Rhia on the small divan and stepped back as his mother and sister rushed to her. He turned to face his father and through gritted teeth said, “I brought her here because she needs Mother.”
By moving to the beehive fireplace in the far corner of the room, Dy
lan forced his father to follow. The sound of Rhia answering Farrah’s question calmed him a bit. All he could think was, suppose she’d been there when they’d struck. There was no question in his mind that she’d have tried to help Angus. She’d be dead now, or worse. A captive.
“Are they all dead?” the don snapped.
“The couple who lives there are lucky they escaped with their lives but they’ve moved on. Old Angus is dead. The whole place has been ransacked. I couldn’t leave her there,” he whispered fiercely. “Surely you can see that.” Dylan ran an angry hand through his hair and leaned even closer to the stubborn old coot. He felt like shouting but had to whisper so Rhia wouldn’t hear. “At least half of her flock is dead. If you’re turning her away, I’m sure Alex and Mrs. Reynolds would be happy to take her in.”
That got the old man’s back up. “I wouldn’t consider turning away a neighbor in need.”
“Funny. That’s how you sounded.” Knowing his father, what the don meant was he wouldn’t consider allowing Alex Reynolds to outshine him.
“I’ve asked her to sell Adara to me several times since Henry Oliver died. I knew she’d never make it out there.”
He’d probably offered half what the place was worth. Dylan glanced at Rhia. She already seemed better, looking angry and determined. The knot in his stomach eased. Rhia would recover from this. If the don tried to push her toward selling out now, she’d probably hand him his head. But that thought brought the knot right back. The next thing she’d do was head on home. Alone. She had a stubborn streak that ran deeper than anyone he’d ever met.
Except maybe himself.
He had to take the don’s mind off making another offer for Adara. And he knew exactly how to do it. “You have to take steps to increase Belleza’s security. Your men aren’t trained with guns. It’s dangerous.”
The don’s face darkened in anger. “I refuse to arm men of a lower class. How I run Belleza is no longer your concern.”
Weddings Under a Western Sky: The Hand-Me-Down BrideThe Bride Wore BritchesSomething Borrowed, Something True Page 10