A Woman to Die For

by Erin Wade

  “Easy bro,” Reid held up defensive hands. “I’m just asking.”

  ##

  The party went on until the wee hours of the morning until everyone was either too drunk or too tired to dance. Those spending the night slept on the porch or in the bunkhouse.

  Morgan was eating breakfast when Kristen sashayed into the dining room. “My aren’t you perky this morning,” Morgan greeted his sister.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” Kristen poured a cup of coffee and refilled Morgan’s. “I’m free, woman and eighteen.”

  “So, did anyone strike your fancy?” Morgan inquired.

  “Maybe,” Kristen grinned.

  “Who?” Morgan demanded.

  “A lady never kisses and tells,” Kristen antagonized her brother. “Did you kiss Gwen Goodnight?”

  Morgan laughed. “No, I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t kiss anyone either,” Kristen confided. “They’re all so boring.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Morgan shook his head. “You know the terms of our father’s will dictate the ranch goes to the first one to produce a male heir. That includes you.”

  “I’m counting on you to do that, big brother,” Kristen’s eyes danced as she watched her brother react to her teasing. She knew how to get under his skin. She also knew that the thought of her brother with another woman drove her crazy.

  “What’s this?” Kristen picked up an envelope with her name on it.

  “That came early this morning,” Hassie the cook entered the room carrying a platter loaded with bacon, sausage and ham. “It’s a telegram for you.”

  Naomi followed with a platter of eggs. “I’ll let everyone know breakfast is on the table,” she said.

  Kristen opened the envelope and read the telegram. She carried it to Morgan so he could read it too.

  “Jude has been shot,” Morgan said. “Your aunt is selling the house and she wants you to get your mother’s trunk as soon as possible. Do you want it?”

  “I do.” Kristen nodded. “It’s all I have left of her.”

  “I can’t leave now,” Morgan fretted. “Roundup starts tomorrow. We need all the men we have to handle it.”

  “Maybe Naomi or Jerilyn can accompany me,” Kristen suggested.

  “I don’t like it, but I do understand,” Morgan said. “We’ll discuss it with the family tonight at dinner. Everyone will be gone by then.”

  It was decided that Jerilyn would accompany Kristen to San Francisco to retrieve her mother’s trunk.

  “Maybe you can find a husband to your liking in San Fran,” Jerilyn chided Kristen.

  “I don’t plan on staying long enough to meet anyone,” Kristen snapped. “I’m picking up the trunk and coming back home.”

  “You promised I could buy new clothes,” Jerilyn reminded her.

  After everyone went to bed Kristen and Morgan sat in front of the fireplace discussing the trip.

  “I’ve made reservations for you at the Palace,” Morgan said.

  “I wish you were going with me,” Kristen pouted. “I don’t like traveling without you. You make me feel safe.”

  Morgan chuckled. “You handle a gun as good as I do. You can take care of yourself.”

  “I . . . I’ll miss you,” Kristen admitted. “We haven’t been a part since you brought me home.”

  “I know,” Morgan acknowledged. “And I’ll miss you.”

  Chapter 5

  San Francisco was hot and humid. Kristen longed to be back at Estelline with her family. Jeri was enjoying their visit to the bustling, brawling city and took in its sights with wonder. The Palace Hotel left her as speechless as it had Kristen four years ago.

  “Today we’ll shop for new wardrobes for both of us,” Kristen said as they dined in the hotel dining room.

  “This is so exciting,” Jeri exclaimed as she stared at the men and women in their fancy dress. “It’s hard to believe people live like this.”

  “Yes, it is,” Kristen sneered “and they even like it. Give me Estelline any day of the week. I wonder how the boys are doing.”

  “I’m sure they are getting along fine without us,” Jeri assured her. “As long as Hassie and Naomi keep them fed they won’t even miss us.”

  “Surely you don’t believe that,” Kristen admonished her. “I’m certain they miss us.”

  “Morgan may miss you,” Jeri acquiesced. “You two do everything together. You’re like playmates—like Wallace and Reid.”

  “He is the most interesting person I’ve ever met,” Kristen said. “We never run out of things to talk about and he has taught me so much, Jeri.”

  “The fact that he is drop dead handsome doesn’t hurt either,” Jeri teased her.

  “He’s just nice, Jeri, but all of you have been so wonderful to me. You’ve really made me feel like I belong.”

  “You do, hon,” Jerilyn patted her hand.

  As they dined, the women stole glances at the men and women strolling through the room.

  “Kristen,” Jerilyn touched her sister-in-law’s hand. “Look.”

  “Oh God!” Kristen exclaimed. “It’s him.” She sprang from her chair and rushed to hug her brother.

  “I knew you’d come,” she beamed. “I knew you’d miss me too.”

  “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” The man stepped back from Kristen.

  “Don’t tease me, Morgan.” She blushed. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “Miss my name isn’t Morgan.”

  For the first time Kristen scrutinized the man she had mistaken for her brother.

  “I am so sorry,” she blushed. “I thought you were someone I know.”

  “Lucky man.” the stranger smiled. “Since we’re hugging friends you should at least know my name. Cage Fielding at your service, ma’am.” He bowed at the waist and made a grand sweeping gesture with his arm. “Pleased to make your acquaintance Miss . . .?” He halted waiting for her to supply a name.

  “Uh, Kristen. Kristen Jouett,” she muttered. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

  Cage watched the beautiful blonde return to her friend at a table across the room then turned to his companion.

  “Who is she?” He exclaimed.

  “She is the reason I’m offering to save your worthless ass,” Nathan Calloway chewed on his cigar.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cage lead the way to the bar on the far side of the lobby.

  ##

  Nathan waited until they were seated at a table and had ordered two glasses and a bottle of cognac to continue.

  “Her name is Kristen Jouett.” The portly man began. “Her family owns over a million acres of Texas ranch land—open free-range grass land.” Calloway squinted his beady eyes making them disappear in the folds of fat that padded his face. “You bear an uncanny resemblance to her brother whom she adores. As you saw, even she mistook you for Morgan Jouett.”

  “Even she doesn’t make your offer sound interesting.” Cage sipped his drink. “I’m no salesman. I’m a—.”

  “Two-bit, tinhorn gambler,” Calloway sneered. “a gigolo, a pretty boy. Maybe the fact that Elizabeth Thornton’s husband arrived yesterday will make my offer more interesting to you.”

  Cage’s face paled under his dark tan. “Victor Thornton, but I thought he was still missing.”

  “It seems that Colonel Thornton escaped his Indian captors and has been reunited with his faithful wife,” Calloway said sarcastically. “I wonder how long it will take Colonel Thornton to find out that you have been consoling his bereaved wife in his bed.”

  “You’re lying,” Cage snorted.

  “Am I?” Calloway raised his bushy black eyebrows quizzically. “I thought you might accuse me of such underhanded actions, so I brought along a copy of the morning paper.”

  Cage stared in shocked disbelief at the paper’s headline heralding the return of Colonel Victor Thornton.

  “I don’t think his wife’s infidelities will upset him nearly as much as the fact that you’ve helped her s
quander his family’s fortune,” Calloway mocked. “I must say all of San Francisco will think you have gotten your just reward if Colonel Thornton shoots you. A question of honor, you know.”

  “Tell me your offer again,” Cage seethed.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of John Wayne Gates,” Calloway’s tone was brisk and businesslike.

  “Very rich,” Cage said dryly.

  “Right and it might interest you to know that he made his fortune selling barbed wire for Joseph Glidden and Isaac Ellwood.

  “I suppose you’re going to say I can make my fortune by selling the wire for you,” Cage scoffed pouring himself another drink.

  “How can you drink that stuff so early in the morning?” Calloway grumbled.

  “It helps me make sense of the line of bull you’re feeding me,” Cage tossed back the Cognac and refilled his glass.

  “The timing is perfect for us,” Calloway continued. “Look.”

  The fat man held out his open hand to Cage. A twisted ribbon of galvanized metal with dull prongs spaced an inch apart, rested in his palm.

  “There’s a screwworm epidemic in Southern Texas.” Calloway placed the wire on the table in front of Cage. “Cattlemen are blaming barbed wire. The stock gets a scratch when the sharp points of the wire, draws blood, and the cut gets infected with screwworm.”

  “How interesting,” Cage leered.

  “This wire is the answer to the problem,” Calloway explained. “It’s strong, a solid ribbed strip of steel presenting the largest possible viewing surface. The cattle won’t be prone to run into it and if they do the barbs are blunt and won’t break their skin.

  “This wire is what they need. It’s light as air, stronger than whiskey, and cheap as dirt." Calloway reared back smugly. “And I hold the patent on it.”

  “And you want me to peddle it door to door like some low-class huckster?” Cage said disgustedly. “Why don’t you sell it yourself?”

  “I know my limitations,” Calloway answered. “I wouldn’t last a week in the Texas heat. But you, you’re young, strong, handsome, and the best con man I’ve ever met.”

  “Texas!” Cage spit out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Screwworms!”

  “Of course, if you’d rather stay here and face Col. Thornton—.”

  “It seems your offer is the lesser of the two evils,” Cage interrupted. “Now tell me, where does Kristen Jouett come in?”

  “As I said her family owns a million acres in the Texas Panhandle in North Texas,” Calloway explained. “I want my wire to fence their ranch. Once they use it other ranchers will follow their lead.”

  “Why don’t you sell it to them if they need it so badly?” Cage asked.

  “I’ve made inquiries.” Calloway furrowed his forehead. “The Jouett’s are free grass ranchers. They hate barbed wire with a passion and why not? With a million acres they can run their cattle on the open range with no problems.”

  “Then why would they even consider fencing?” Cage refilled his glass.

  “That’s where you come in,” Calloway relit his cigar. “You’ve got to convince them that settlers will build on their land and interfere with their ranch operations. You shouldn’t have any trouble smooth talking a bunch of cowpunchers.”

  “And how do I do that?” Cage snorted.

  “I’ve arranged a little help for you,” Calloway’s eyes glowed mischievously.

  “I have befriended a farmer down on his luck,” Calloway gloated. “He’s lost everything he owns. I’ve managed to get a deed to a thousand acres of the Jouett ranch. Out of the goodness of my heart I’m going to give our farmer friend that land to cultivate and fence.”

  “Is the deed legal,” Cage asked.

  “No,” Calloway smirked. “But my farmer friend believes it is and he’s the type that will fight for what’s his.”

  “What’s his name?” Cage said.

  Strom Lambert. He has a wife and four kids. Just the right number to elicit pity when the Jouett’s try to run them off their property. That’s where you swoop in and convince the Jouett’s to fence their precious land to protect it from future squatters.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything. I’m impressed.” Cage complimented.

  “Right down to you,” Calloway bragged. “Kristen Jouett is single. From what I can find out she isn’t interested in the local yokels and is in line to inherit the entire Jouett estate.

  “The old man, Nelson I believe his name was, died six or seven years ago. There’s an unusual clause in his will. I can’t find out what but until the stipulations of his will are met, the entire ranch is in limbo. The oldest brother Morgan Jouett owns the ranch until another heir is born.”

  “You want me to court Miss Jouett?” Cage smiled.

  “Exactly. If you could gain her confidence and get on the inside, it will be a cinch to sell them the barbed wire.”

  “So I go traipsing around in some God forsaken hellhole amid a screwworm infestation and rattlesnakes to sell your wonderful invention to people who are already antagonistic toward barbed wire while you sit on your fat duff waiting for me to make you rich?” Cage glared at the man. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Oh, I’ll compensate you of course.” Calloway answered.

  “A partnership,” Cage bellowed.

  “Partnership!” Calloway’s jowls worked furiously. “Why that’s ridiculous.”

  “Then I’ll just disappear,” Cage threatened. “And I don’t need you to do that.”

  “Okay, a partnership,” Calloway growled. “And a fitting one it is because like me your most prominent characteristic is avarice.”

  “Draw up the contract,” Cage directed, “and find out when the women will return to Texas. I’ll need a ticket on the same train.”

  Chapter 6

  Cage looked casually around the dining room until his eyes came to rest on Kristen Jouett. She was in deep conversation with her companion a dark-haired woman in her early twenties. If Calloway’s information was correct Kristen was in town to settle an estate left to her by her mother. Heiresses were always welcome in Cage’s world.

  Kristen’s companion looked up as Cage approached their table. A flash of recognition was quickly checked by the realization that he wasn’t who she thought he was.

  “Ladies, may I join you?” Cage smiled his sweetest smile.

  “I don’t think—."

  “Oh, let him Kristen,” Jerilyn giggled. “I find it fascinating to see Morgan’s face above a frilly white shirt.”

  “I must confess that I made it a point to learn that you are Kristen Jouett.” Cage smiled warmly as he sat down at the table. “I’m afraid I don’t know your friend’s name.”

  “Jerilyn this is Mr. Fielding.” Kristen made the introductions. “Mr. Fielding this is my sister-in-law Jerilyn Jouett.”

  “I’m surprised I haven’t met you two before,” Cage said.

  “We’re just here for a visit,” Jerilyn volunteered. “Kristen’s picking up some things that belonged to her mother. It’s all very exciting.”

  “Jerilyn,” Kristen scolded.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Kris.” Jerilyn turned to Cage. “I talk too much.”

  “I hope you will allow me to show you San Francisco while you are here.” Cage smiled.

  “That would be great,” Jerilyn enthused. “We don’t know anything about San Francisco.”

  “Jerilyn,” Kristen’s blue eyes flashed angrily. “You’ll have to forgive Jerilyn, Mr. Fielding,” Kristen said coolly. “This is her first trip to the big city. While we appreciate your gracious offer, I’m afraid we must turn it down.”

  “I didn’t intend to offend you,” Cage looked away as if she had insulted him. “I was trying to be helpful.”

  “Kristen how can you be so cruel,” Jerilyn reprimanded her sister-in-law. “Mr. Fielding is obviously a fine gentleman.”

  “I assure you my intentions are good,” Cage teased.

  A faint sm
ile played on Kristen’s lips. “Okay, Mr. Fielding we accept your offer to give us a tour of your city.”

  “That’s settled,” he beamed. “Please call me Cage.”

  “And you may call us by our given names,” Jerilyn giggled.

  ##

  “I hope you ladies enjoyed seeing Frisco, as much as I’ve enjoyed your company.” Cage bowed exaggeratedly as they stood outside the women’s suite.

  “It’s wonderful city,” Jerilyn bubbled, “so versatile.”

  “What shall we do tomorrow? I know . . .” Cage started.

  “I’m afraid we will be busy all day tomorrow.” Kristen cut him off.

  “Dinner then,” Cage insisted. “I’ll call for you at seven.” He walked away before Kristen could protest.

  Jerilyn had quickly succumbed to his charm but Kristen, though cordial, seemed to be totally indifferent to everything including him.

  ##

  “I promise you they have the most delicious Chinese food you’ve ever tasted.” Cage followed the women as the maître d’ led them to their table.

  “I’ve never eaten Chinese food,” Jerilyn confessed. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at the menu placed before her. “Bird’s nest soup! Do people really eat soup made of bird’s nest?”

  “The Chinese consider it a delicacy,” Cage explained. “They aren’t like bird nests found in trees, abandoned by their builders. The soup is made of edible bird’s nest constructed by the swiftlet, a small bird usually found in Southeast Asia.”

  Jerilyn eyed him suspiciously certain Cage was making fun of her.

  “Like bats, swiftlets live in dark caves. Instead of using twigs and straw the swiftlet makes its nest from strands of its own gummy saliva produced by the glands under its tongue. The nest hardens when exposed to air. It’s really very tasty.”

  “I’ll just have water.” Jerilyn gulped.

  “Nonsense,” Cage laughed. “Forget the bird’s nest soup. There are many wonderful dishes made from chicken and beef.”

  “Perhaps Cage will be kind enough to order for us,” Kristen suggested. A smile graced her lovely lips but never reached her eyes.

  Cage looked into her cold blue eyes and promised himself he’d make them smile too before the evening ended.