And didn’t that count for something?
* * *
Mother cornered Gracie as soon as she arrived home.
“There you are. Where have you been? Never mind, go comb your hair and wash that face. Mary put out a fresh basin of water in your room. Why do you smell like manure?” Her mother’s nose wiggled as she backed away from Gracie. “Honestly, Gracelyn, you would think you’d take more thought with yourself. You are a feminine, delicate lady.”
Mother’s hands swept through the air as she spoke and her words echoed in the empty hallway. Then her gaze traversed Gracie again and she sighed loudly, as if the burdens of the world had been placed on her shoulders. “Please clean up. We are having a tea in the study in ten minutes. And do spray yourself with perfume.”
Used to Mother’s melodrama, Gracie tried to hide her smile. She knelt down and unlaced her boots, then set them by the door.
“Calm yourself, Mother. There’s no need for hysterics over a horse ride.” She popped up and gave her mother a swift kiss on her smooth cheek and it wasn’t until she flounced halfway up the stairs that she realized her mother still stood staring at her in disbelief.
Gracie chuckled. Her mother must have noticed the dirt and hay stains on the back of her skirt. She looked down at her and called out, “Don’t worry, Mother. I merely fell over a pile of dirt. It will wash.” She bounced the rest of the way to her room.
Once there she refused to allow circumstances to kill her positive mood. Julia’s whereabouts were known, and there was a good chance Trevor’s government friends would find her.
The weather was beautiful and Christmas was coming. She would ride into town, see new faces and perhaps discover exciting information. She shed her dirty clothes and washed quickly. Shrugging into a mint-green dress, she thought of the afternoon excursion. She hadn’t meant to investigate when the idea of going into Burns originally popped into her head, but afterward, especially after Trevor’s antagonistic look, she realized she might learn something important.
Like the true identity of Striker.
With a trip home certain, now that she’d had her jewels stolen, she needed to heighten her search for the elusive agent.
Pulling out a brush, she winced as it tugged through her hair but managed to get the chaotic mass into some kind of order. With a heavy jeweled comb she fastened the knot into the relaxed look known as the Grecian style. She glowered at the mirror.
These combs. Her unruly hair. If only she had the courage to chop it all off like Connie.
Familiar sadness tightened her chest and for a moment she let it linger. But sorrow cannot last forever. We were made to laugh, she thought as she inspected her face for any missed streaks of dirt. Though she didn’t feel like laughing, perhaps one day she would again.
Striding out of her room she bumped into Mary “Are you coming to tea?”
“I’m serving it.”
“I’ve had enough.” Gracie fought down the anger that tightened her throat. “How can Uncle Lou let Mother treat you this way? It’s shameful. I want you to sit down and join us.”
Mary glanced at her, a frown crossing her perfect features. “Edith didn’t ask for the tea. She won’t be there.”
“Then with whom am I to have tea?” Gracie followed Mary down the stairs, and then stopped midway as realization struck. “Oh, no, it’s Hugh. That man! I have absolutely reached the limits of my patience, Mary.”
“You’ll be fine,” she soothed.
Gracie edged into the sitting room while Mary continued to the kitchen. Hugh already waited for her, and when she neared the couches he rose and took her hand. A small table had been placed between the two couches for tea and pastries. She let Hugh seat her beside him, a proper distance between them, of course.
His cologne smelled on the strong side, rich and cloying. She preferred Trevor’s earthiness to this odor.
“You look lovely, Gracelyn.” His cheeks rounded as he took in her appearance. “I missed you while I was away. I never thought to fall in love with you, but I did. I wish you would reconsider our engagement.” His hands reached for hers and she reluctantly allowed him to hold them.
“I’m flattered, Hugh. But I know in my heart that you would not be happy with me.”
“How can you say such a thing?” He looked shocked. “You are the epitome of all a woman should be.”
Because she wanted to snort with laughter at the intensity of his tone, she composed her features and gently removed her hands from his sweaty clasp. “I believe you’re a good man. As I told you, we are simply incompatible.”
“None could be more suited than we, dear Gracelyn.”
The man was obtuse. She eyed him. “How do you feel about women in trousers? Or women in the workforce?”
“Why?” Caution lowered his voice. “Are you considering either?”
“I would prefer to know what you think about those issues.”
“They’re unimportant, Gracelyn.”
Mary floated in and set a tray laden with sweets in front of them. She left without a word.
Gracie eyed the fudge. She truly wanted a piece but hated to inspire another lecture on her weight. The memory made her want to wring Hugh’s neck. What kind of gentleman commented on a lady’s size anyhow?
“I love you and want you to be my wife.” He paused and his eyebrows dipped downward. “Were you toying with my affections only months ago?”
“We hardly know each other,” Gracie sputtered.
“You led me on and now you spurn me? What game is this you’re playing?” His forehead furrowed and his lips hardened into a thin line.
“I don’t play games. We’ve barely known each other but I can assure you I am not the kind of woman you desire.” She kept her tone light but inside she grew suspicious. He’d never talked this way in Boston. His sudden, persistent pursuit of her could only be due to one thing.
Money.
His family wanted her inheritance and her parents desired Hugh’s lineage. She swallowed her groan as Hugh began to drone on about his blooming love for her. He must think she was completely brainless. In Boston they’d gone to a few shows, a few soirees and the only physical interest he’d ever shown had been one dutiful little peck on her cheek. His family must be desperate, indeed.
She reached for the fudge as he spoke and was shocked when his palm covered her hand and gently guided it away from the tray.
“It is my duty as the man who loves you to protect you in all ways, darling. I specifically requested no chocolate on this tray.” He kept her hand in his. His light blue eyes regarded her seriously. “You must keep away from chocolate. I am sure you would not want to look the way you did before I left for military duty. You’re so beautiful now.” He bent and placed moist lips against her hand.
Heat rose in Gracie’s face. A flash of anger sizzled across her chest. His insults deserved a slapping, most definitely. Even Mother would not fault her. She pulled her hand from him and paused. It would not be honorable or noble to hurt him as he had just hurt her. But oh, she itched to.
She rocketed to her feet instead. “I would not marry you, Hugh, were I to be condemned to spinsterhood the rest of my life. You’re monstrously rude and tactless. Please excuse me, but I no longer desire your company.” She made for the door but his hand on her arm stopped her.
“I’ve needed you for the longest time and I won’t be refused. That scarred up cowboy won’t be looking at you funny anymore. Not once I have you.” His harsh whisper grated against her ear, and she cringed. He turned her and pressed her against him, his fingers digging into her arms, and then his wet, sloppy lips closed over hers.
Gracie’s first response was outrage and she tried to step away but he was more forceful than he looked. His mouth moved over hers a
nd to her horror she realized he was trying to pry her lips open. Fear momentarily weakened her knees but when one arm encircled her like a vise and his fingers dug into her jaw, rage kicked in.
There was no way a kiss would be forced on her. Absolutely not. And so, from the reservoirs of her memory, she employed a move Connie had taught her years ago, a tactic designed to discourage overly zealous suitors.
She kicked him in the shin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ignoring Hugh’s groaned oaths, Gracie twisted from his grasp and raced for the door. Sunlight filtered into the hallway and cast shadows across Mother and Father’s features as they met her near the kitchen.
“Are you done with tea?”
“Quite,” she said, moving closer to her father.
“Are there any snacks left?” Father looked up at her.
She offered him a shaky smile. “They’re on the table.”
Joined by Mary, they moved into the sitting room. Everyone found a seat except Mary and Gracie. She could not make herself sit. Tremors weakened her limbs. Hugh settled next to her mother and she wanted to be sick. The energy drained from her body, making it hard to believe the respectable-looking man next to Mother could have done such a thing.
She rested against a wall, arms folded securely across her chest.
“Let me get more tea.” Mary gave her a little smile as she glided out the door.
“Gracelyn, come sit by me.” William patted the chair next to him. She sank down, thankful when her father’s hand enfolded hers.
Perhaps her parents were somewhat old-fashioned and overly strict, but she never doubted their love for her. She clung to her father’s hand and hoped the trembling in her stomach might leave soon. How silly to be nervous around Hugh. Her parents’ presence assured he could do no more harm. But she refused to look at him.
She needed to wash his imprint off her face. Desperately.
Mother reached for one of the little sandwiches that still rested on the tea tray. “We have been spoiled in Boston. Did you know James uses a working outhouse?”
“Really?” Father adjusted his spectacles. “I suppose Harney County is difficult to modernize, what with all this space and the war going on. I am delighted it’s over. Too many lives lost.”
Discreetly, Gracie took a napkin and dabbed at her lips.
“And now well-bred girls cutting their hair and working in the factories. It’s shameful,” Mother added. “Did you hear of Striker turning in his resignation?”
Gracie’s head popped up. “He did?”
“Oh, yes. It was in all the papers before we left. It appears that with the war over, he no longer desires to be an undercover agent for the government.”
“Did they have any pictures of him?” Her fingers tightened around her napkin as she waited.
“No. Though I have heard tales of his countenance, that it strikes fear into any who look upon it.”
“I don’t know why everyone is in awe of this Striker,” Hugh said. “The man is a killer and too scared to show his face. I can’t help but wonder if he contracted the influenza, died and that’s why this story is making rounds in the papers.”
Gracie stared down at her hands. She hoped he hadn’t died. The man was a hero. Anyone who rescued women would be.
But the possibility posed a problem. If Striker retired, who would find Mendez hiding in the mountains? And who would keep Mary safe?
They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and playing chess. Gracie, of course, was bid to sit near her mother and sew. No chess for her. Every once in a while she stood to stretch her legs and look out the window that faced the front yard.
Where had Trevor and Uncle Lou gone? Trevor said they might go to town.
Shoulders heavy, she stared out the window. No doubt about it. They had left her behind.
* * *
“Don’t know what to make of it, Lou.”
“Me, neither.” The two men sat at the hotel restaurant, waiting for a return phone call. They’d polished off steak and potatoes for lunch and now had only time to pass before hearing news of Julia’s capture.
Trevor had snagged Lou earlier that morning as soon as he’d seen the smoke from the car making its way to the ranch. He figured there was no need for Gracie to tag along at this time. They’d get things done faster without her constant barrage of questions.
Unfortunately no one in town seemed to know much.
Lou tapped impatient fingers against the table. “Sheriff says he hasn’t seen or heard anything about new faces showing up. We know Mendez is hiding out somewhere in the mountains. Question is, who did he bring with him and will we be able to handle them when they show their faces?”
“We’ll handle them,” Trevor answered grimly. “Right now I want to know what Julia had to do with this. The ranch is in such a deserted area that I can’t help thinking she might’ve struck some deal with him. Like last time.”
“Mary’s keeping low, eyes open. She knows he wants revenge.”
“I’ll feel better when George has Julia in custody. If Mendez is here Julia will know it and, for the right price, she’ll spill everything.” Trevor tipped his water and took a long drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. If only George would call soon. A bad feeling squatted in his gut.
“I knew she was up to no good the moment she showed up on our property. You should’ve made her leave, Trev.”
“Wanted to, believe me. I can’t figure why Mendez would bother with his revenge in the middle of this pandemic. He’s a fool.”
“He’s a loose end.” Lou eyed Trevor. “We’ll tie him up, and then Striker can rest in peace.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Cruz? Phone call for you.”
Trevor rose and followed the waiter to one of the few telephones in Burns. He picked up the receiver. The message was quick and to the point. Trevor hung up perplexed, chest burning with foreboding. He made his way back to the table and took the hat Lou handed him.
“She claims to have no knowledge of Mendez or his whereabouts,” he said.
“You offered money.”
“Fifty bucks. No jewels on her, either. She showed a letter stating her new employment as a factory worker in Los Angeles.” He twisted the hat in his hands. “She didn’t take them, Lou.”
“If she didn’t, then who did?”
The thought plagued Trevor as they rode back to the ranch. He couldn’t imagine anyone living there as a thief. But the jewels were gone. Someone stole them, but who? And why?
The ranch was quiet when they returned and by silent assent they did the few chores the property required. They found James out mending a fence and gave him a hand. By the time they finished and the livestock were fed and watered, the sun rested on the mountain peaks. The men headed inside to wash up for dinner, and Trevor braced himself for Gracie’s questions and her disappointment.
They weren’t long in coming.
She sat through dinner silently while they explained no jewels had been found on Julia and that she carried a valid letter of employment to back up her sudden departure. After dinner everyone dispersed. Gracie’s mother to her room with a headache, undoubtedly brought on by the negative news. Mary scooted to the kitchen to clean up, and Lou, William and Hugh escaped to the sitting room for cigars. As soon as Edith left the dining table, Gracie snagged Trevor’s arm and practically dragged him to Lou’s office.
“You went without me. That was a sneaky thing to do.” Gracie paced, arms tucked against her ribs. “I specifically told you I needed to go into town.”
Trevor’s brow lifted.
She huffed. “I am so tired of being obedient and dutiful. These regulations are going to strangle me.”
He leaned back in his chai
r and studied her. She crossed the room with long strides and her pretty lips twisted into a frown. He would miss her energy and erratic behavior, even if she did rattle him sometimes. “Calm down, Gracie. No one wants to strangle you. Your parents want to love and protect you, that’s all.”
“It’s not only them.” She came over and planted her hands on the desk, leaned down until they were eye level. “It is society. Culture. You.”
“Me?”
“Yes, I am perfectly capable of driving a motor vehicle but no one will let me. And do you know how much money I am set to inherit? Thousands. Do you think I’m allowed to buy my own automobile? No, because it is not seemly for a woman in my circles to drive a vehicle.” She released a long, frustrated breath. “And to top things off, people keep trying to tell me what not to eat and how I look better skinnier. I have absolutely had it, Trevor. I simply wanted to go into town.” She straightened from the desk, then her shoulders dropped and she sank into a chair.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” Trevor asked gently.
Gracie sighed. “Perhaps, but you’ve never had to suffer being a female. I do apologize, however, for my emotional outburst. Between my mother and Hugh I believe my hair is turning gray.”
His gaze narrowed. “What does Hugh have to do with this?”
“Nothing you need to be bothered with. We’re leaving after Christmas, and then hopefully I will never see him again.” She shivered. “Let us only say that Christmas cannot come soon enough.”
The strangeness of her words bothered him, but he pushed the feeling aside. No need to get overly involved. “Gracelyn, I admire your intelligence. Treating you in an inferior way has never been my intention.”
Her lips curved down. “I must be honest with you. I’m troubled by this situation with the jewels. If Julia did not take them, who would?”
“We’re working on finding that out.”
“I know…and I’m sure you have plenty of contacts. This crime shouldn’t take long to solve. Tell me, did you discover any news of Mendez?” she asked casually, probably hoping he would divulge riveting information.
Love on the Range Page 21