“You’d be good for him, Sarah.”
Startled by the unexpected pronouncement, for a moment or two all Sarah could do was stare. “What do you mean?”
“Cord likes and respects you. And the fact that you’re delightfully lovely,” Nick added with a mischievous twinkle, “certainly hasn’t hurt your cause. How do you feel about him, all the clash of personalities and wills notwithstanding?”
“I . . . I . . .” Sarah flushed crimson. “Why are you asking me this? I’ve only been here a few days. Assisting others to beat up and then rob a man is hardly the foundation for even a friendship, much less anything deeper.” She pushed away from Nick, then climbed to her feet. “I was beginning to think you were a good, kind man, but now I’m not so sure. You’ve been toying with me, haven’t you?”
His expression turned solemn. “No. Never. I wasn’t toying with you. Maybe I was pushing too hard, but I’d never do anything to hurt you. It’s just that Cord’s been paying me a lot of visits since your arrival, and we’ve talked a lot about you. So much so, that I felt I knew you before I even met you. But please,” he said offering his hand, “accept my apologies for my lack of tact and thoughtfulness. I am so sorry, Sarah.”
Unsure if she could believe him or not, Sarah stared down at Nick for a long moment. Regret, tinged with hope, gleamed in his dark blue eyes. Maybe she had been too quick to accuse him of duplicity. But with both Emma and now Nick intimating things best left unexamined, Sarah was getting very uncomfortable.
“Fine.” With an exasperated toss of her head, she took his hand, gave it a brief squeeze, then released it. “Apology accepted. Let’s just not talk about Cord anymore, shall we? Besides, we’ve absolutely nothing in common, and I’ve even heard him mention he plans to go back to New York just as soon as he can.”
Nick arched a skeptical brow. “Hmm, you don’t say?”
“Here.” Sarah walked to his bed and retrieved two pillows, which she then proceeded to place behind his head. “Enough talk, Nick Wainwright. I’ll fetch some help now in getting you into bed.”
“Will you come back again?”
“Of course. You might need a woman’s touch in seeing you comfortably settled.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I meant will you come back and visit me every day for as long as you’re here?”
More pleased than she cared to show, Sarah busied herself smoothing the wrinkles from one of Emma’s old dresses. “Yes, I’d like that very much—if Cord will let me.”
Nick laughed. “Go ahead. Ask his permission. But if he tells you no, tell him that I want you to. He won’t refuse me. I’ve got too much on him from our boyhood days. He wouldn’t dare say no.”
She stared down at him in bemusement. “Whatever you say.” Sarah turned toward the door.
“One thing more, Angel.”
“Yes?” She glanced back over her shoulder. “What is it, Nick?”
“That statement of yours about Cord going back to New York. It’s not written in stone, you know. There are a lot of things that could make him stay. The right woman, for one, just might change his mind.”
Cord was reading in the library when Sarah rushed into the room. He moved the ribbon to mark his place, then closed the book. “Your brother,” she said without preamble. “He’s fallen and I need help getting him back to bed.”
“Is he all right? What happened?” Cord flung aside his book and leaped to his feet.
“Nick fell from his wheelchair.”
Not awaiting a reply, Sarah turned and hurried back down the hall. Cord hesitated, puzzlement wrinkling his brow.
“Nick?” he muttered. “When did she get the chance to meet, much less be on a first name basis with my brother?” He motioned for Pedro, who had just walked in, to follow as he set out after Sarah. By the time they entered the bedroom, he found her already kneeling on the floor beside Nick.
Nick grinned when he saw Cord. “Your tales about Sarah don’t do her justice, little brother.” He cocked a speculative brow. “But then again, maybe that was your intent.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cord growled as he squatted beside his brother’s shoulders. He shot Pedro a quick glance. “Pick up Nick’s feet.”
Nick was soon back in bed. Sarah turned to go.
“Angel?”
She halted and glanced back at him. “Yes, Nick?”
“Wait a minute, will you? I’ve got something to ask my brother.” He turned to Cord. “Do you have any problem with her paying me a visit each day?”
For an instant, Cord was taken aback. Myriad emotions swirled within him, and most of them weren’t particularly pleasant. “And why are you so suddenly interested in Sarah’s company?”
“Why?” The merest hint of a smile glimmered on Nick’s lips. “Well, because I like human interaction, and you and the household staff are frequently too busy to visit. And I certainly can’t get my wheelchair down to the cellar or upstairs to the bedroom you’ve now put her in. What other reason would there be?”
Cord shrugged, not at all convinced there wasn’t something more going on here. “None, I guess. You’ve my permission.”
“Thank you, little brother.” Nick’s rich voice, tinged with amusement, interrupted the steady glance between Cord and Sarah. “You’re a generous soul to share your little angel with me. I’m in your debt.”
Cord wrenched his gaze from Sarah. “You’ve got it all wrong, big brother. First, she’s not my ‘little angel.’ Second, she’s not mine to share,” he added with a touch of irritation. “As long as Sarah keeps to her promise, she’s free to visit whomever she wants, anytime she wants.”
Nick’s grin widened. “Good. That suits me fine.” He looked to Sarah. “Did you hear that? Anytime you want.”
“Y-yes, Nick.” Sarah began edging toward the door. “Anytime. Now, I really must be going. I’m sure Emma needs me in the kitchen.”
Cord watched Sarah all but flee the room, then turned on his brother. “What’s your game?”
“Game?” Nick’s blue eyes widened in feigned innocence. “Whatever do you mean? Surely you’re not angry that Sarah wishes to visit me? You never mentioned any claim on her.”
“My feelings for Sarah aren’t the topic of this conversation.” Cord’s eyes narrowed, remembering Pedro’s presence. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, I’ve guests.”
“Oh, and who might they be?”
“Allis and one of her friends. Would you like to have lunch with us?”
Nick shook his head. “And suffer with the splitting headache her self-centered conversation is sure to give me? Not on your life. Allis is your friend, not mine.”
“She’s a family friend,” Cord was quick to correct him. “Calculating females have never been my cup of tea.”
“Oh, well, that’s a relief to us all.” Nick laughed. “They’ve never been one of my favorites, either. Personally, I prefer little angels.”
His brother exhaled an exasperated breath. “Yes, I’d imagine you would. A perfect balance to your devilish nature.” He headed toward the door. “But that’s a subject we’ll discuss later.”
Nick’s parting comment followed him down the hall. “You can be sure of that, little brother,” he said, laughter rumbling in his chest. “And in ways you haven’t yet begun to imagine . . .”
“It won’t work, you know, whatever your little scheme is. Cord’s far too astute for the likes of you, not to mention all the trouble you’ll be in when Edmund returns from the cattle drive.”
The feminine voice, dripping with hostility, halted Sarah. She glanced up from the china plate she’d just placed on the dining room table, meeting the woman’s gaze head on.
“Hello, Allis. So nice to see you again too.” She turned back to her setting of the table.
Allis stepped farther into the room. “I’m warning you. Get out while you still have that greedy little hide of yours.”
Sarah shot her a disgusted look. “Tha
nk you, Allis. Your advice has been noted and filed away with all your other kind and gracious remarks. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve work to do.”
“And who do you think you are to dismiss me?” the brunette demanded, ire rising in her voice. “You and your family are nothing but trash, a shameful, sordid blight on our fair town. You rob the Wainwrights of their hard-earned money and then have the gall to prance around the house like you belong here. Why, I’ve never—”
“That’s enough, Allis.” Sarah strode over to confront the other woman. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to that vile tongue of yours a moment longer. I’ve got better ways to spend my time.”
Allis grasped Sarah’s arm as she turned to walk away. “I’m not through with you.”
“There’s more?”
“Stay away from Cord Wainwright.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is really about.” Sarah laughed, then twisted free of Allis’s grip. “Afraid I’ll steal Cord from you? Really, Allis, you’ve got to stop being so insecure. It doesn’t become a lady.”
“I mean it, Sarah Caldwell.” A cruel smile touched her lips. “If you try anything, I’ll personally see to it that you and your entire family are destroyed. And don’t think for a minute I can’t do it. I always get what I want.”
The malevolent gleam in Allis’s eyes momentarily caught Sarah off guard. She’d always known the woman was capable of cruel and thoughtless behavior, but the vicious determination burning in her eyes just now was new. New and very disturbing.
“You don’t frighten me,” Sarah shot back, equally determined not to let Allis intimidate her. “I thought I’d taught you that back in school.” She walked away, tossing the other woman one last, challenging glare—and stumbled right into a hard, masculine body.
Startled, Sarah looked up into Cord’s dark eyes. A bemused, questioning light danced in their depths. His arms loosely clasped hers.
“And what exactly did you teach Allis back in school, Sarah?”
How much of our conversation had he heard?
She wiggled free of his grasp. “Not how to be a lady, and that’s for sure,” Sarah replied, glaring at Allis.
“How dare you speak to me in that manner, you . . . you little tramp!”
“That’s enough, Allis.” Though Cord’s request was mildly couched, there was a warning vibrating deep within it. “I won’t allow that kind of talk in my house.”
The woman’s face reddened. “You . . . you can defend her after what she’s done?” she railed, turning the full brunt of her indignation upon Cord. “She all but set you up for the robbery, and now you give her free rein of the house like she’s some honored guest? Well, I suppose then you won’t be satisfied until she’s finished the job by stealing the silver and other family heirlooms!”
“How I treat Sarah is none of your business.” A muscle twitched furiously in his jaw. “First Doc Saunders telling me what to do, and now you. Is all of Ashton going to meddle in my affairs? Well, I won’t have it, do you hear me?”
Allis blanched. “Cord. Darling,” she cooed, reaching out to him. “I didn’t mean to dictate to you. Please forgive me.”
Cord took her by the arm. “It’s already forgotten,” he said with a grim smile. “Now, let’s permit Sarah to finish her work in here, or we won’t be eating our lunch before suppertime.”
He began to guide her from the room. “A short walk outside will do us both good.”
A simpering smile spread across Allis’s face, and she eagerly followed him from the dining room. Watching them walk away, frustration at Cord’s bland acceptance of the other woman’s tactless behavior filled Sarah. Allis, it seemed, could get away with murder and Cord hardly blinked an eye, while she . . .
“Maybe you both really do deserve each other,” she muttered sourly, and went back to setting the table.
Sarah gently slipped the last egg from beneath the clucking broody hen and placed it in her basket. Then, her thoughts still far away, she left the chicken coop and headed back toward the house. Lunch had ended over four hours ago, and still Allis Findley and her friend lingered. All afternoon, as Sarah worked outside in the garden, the women’s lilting laughter, interspersed with the low, deep tones of Cord’s voice, had carried through the parlor window.
The sounds of their mutual enjoyment only served to increase the unpleasant churning in Sarah’s stomach. She shouldn’t care, but it was so hard after the past days spent with Cord. He’d been so gentle, and the expression that sometimes burned in his eyes when he looked at her . . .
And you’re a fool, Sarah Caldwell, she mentally berated herself. You hardly know him, and yet you already place too much stock in his treatment of you and Danny. It’s nothing more than his innate kindness coming through.
“The two Caldwell children” was probably how Cord viewed them, yet the painful truth was that, even as short a time as they’d been together, she hardly shared such platonic feelings for him. He stirred emotions that set her heart to fluttering, and had since the first time she’d met him. Yet the admission also confused and frightened her. She’d never felt this way before.
The pounding of hooves and joyous shouts of an approaching group of riders intruded on Sarah’s tortured thoughts. Her gaze sought out the road leading down from the mountains. Already breaching the hill just a quarter mile away was a band of cowboys. The Wainwright hands, most likely, she glumly realized, and led by Edmund Wainwright himself.
She stifled an impulse to hurry across the large expanse separating the barn from the main house. At that moment, Cord and his two guests walked outside. Their presence only strengthened Sarah’s resolve. She wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction of thinking she was afraid to finally confront the Wainwright patriarch.
Pretending concern with her basket of delicate eggs, Sarah purposely slowed her pace. The cowboys caught her halfway to the house. With wild whoops and admiring whistles, they circled her on their horses like she was some prize heifer about to be roped.
Sarah halted, waiting patiently for their youthful high spirits to subside. Instead, they milled around her, stirring the dust as they continued their revolutions. Finally, between fitful coughs, she tried to dart between the excited horses.
“Whoa, there, little filly,” one dark-haired cowboy laughed as he skillfully blocked her way. “Where do you think yore goin’? Gals like you don’t come around too often. I’ve a hankerin’ to get to know you better.”
He leaned over and scooped Sarah up in a sinewy arm. It was all she could do to clutch the egg basket to her before she rose in the air.
“Put me down this instant!” she gasped, gazing into a dirt-streaked, grinning face.
“And what if I don’t, little filly?” the man asked with a chuckle. “Who’s to care if I have some good-hearted fun with a purty gal?”
“I’ll care.” Cord’s voice, edged with anger and something more, cut through the bedlam. “Put her down, Cal, while you’re still able.”
Cal’s smile faded. With a quick tug on the reins, he wheeled his horse toward the house. “I didn’t mean no harm, Mr. Wainwright. Honest I didn’t. I-I reckon I’m just a little riled after all the celebratin’ in town.”
“I know that, Cal,” Cord replied, his voice calmer. “But it’s no way to treat a lady. Now, put her down.”
Ever so carefully, the cowboy lowered Sarah to the ground, then tipped his hat. “Sorry, ma’am. No offense intended.”
She managed a smile. “No offense taken, Cal.”
From across the dusty stretch separating them, her gaze met Cord’s. His eyes glittered like blackest onyx, but even as their glances lengthened Sarah saw the tension drain from him. For a fleeting instant, a smile quirked one corner of his mouth. Then Allis was tugging on his arm and gesturing to a big, solidly built man riding toward them.
Cord dragged his gaze from her, and once more Sarah found herself alone. She tried to take advantage of the diversion to slip past the milling pack of men a
nd horses, but the big man on horseback cut her off. Once more, Sarah halted, lifting her glance to meet eyes of the deepest blue. The same shade as Nick’s, she thought before scanning the rest of his face.
His hair was heavily shot with gray, but the lines that furrowed his brow and fanned from his careworn eyes did little to hide the strong features Sarah had come to know well in his two sons. It was Edmund Wainwright, her father’s enemy. Her chin lifted in defiance.
“And who are you, little lady? If my sons hired a new housemaid in my absence, I’ll have to commend them for their good taste.”
The voice was but a harsher version of Cord’s, and Sarah had to fight hard against the impulse to lower her guard. Her mind swam with possible replies, all designed to hide her true identity, but she chose none. Let the chips fall where they may. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was.
She opened her mouth to reply when Allis Findley silkily intruded. “Before you start drooling over that tart, Edmund, let me save you further embarrassment. She’s Jacob Caldwell’s daughter and is supposed to be a prisoner on this ranch.”
Allis gave Sarah a sweetly malicious smile. “But, as you can see, she’s managed to charm her way out of that predicament rather quickly.”
“That’ll be enough, Allis,” Cord said for the second time today as he came up beside her. “And I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of my business from now on.”
“Wainwright business, I’d say.” His father swung down from his horse and strode over to stand eye-to-eye with his son. “What in the blazes is going on here? Is what Allis said true? Is this girl really a Caldwell?”
Cord held his ground. “This isn’t a topic for public discussion. Let’s go inside.”
“Wait just a dad-blasted minute!” Edmund grabbed his arm. “No one’s ordering me around on my own ranch, and especially not some fool son of mine. Answer my question!”
“And I said, this is something best discussed inside,” Cord replied, his gaze going dark and hard.
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