by Nancy Bush
“What’s wrong?” Tremaine asked, sure he really didn’t want to know.
“Jace Garrett,” she said through her teeth. “When Joshua was alive it was bad enough, but Jace is worse because he’s Lucinda’s son, too.”
Tremaine heartily agreed, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Climbing from the cot, he raked his hand through his tousled hair. Jenny flung him a dark look.
“It isn’t fair for a man to look so handsome when he first wakes up,” she muttered, though in truth she looked rather luscious herself.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Tremaine smiled lazily and asked, “Have you got any coffee, Jenny?”
“For you, anything. I saw your sister in the mercantile this morning. All you Danners are damnably good-lookin’. Somehow it isn’t quite fair, either.”
Tremaine’s pulse leapt. “You saw Lexie?”
“Mmm-hmmm.” She sent him a curious glance, enjoying his lean powerful face and the aura of leashed power in a purely sensual way. Though Tremaine didn’t know it, Jenny harbored secret feelings for him, which she was careful to disguise for she was certain if he knew she cared, she would never see him again. As it was, his visits to Rock Springs were far too rare, and though last night she’d been delighted to see him, his lack of interest had bothered her. Never before had he been so distant. She didn’t like thinking that their relationship might be over. “I hear your sister’s going off to school.”
Tremaine didn’t want to talk about Lexie. “That’s what I hear, too,” he said, accepting the cup Jenny handed him, sensitive to the way her fingers lingered over his. “What’s got you so riled about Jace Garrett?” Tremaine asked with lazy amusement. “His price for this place not meeting your expectations?”
She snorted. “That skinflint? He won’t pay half what it’s worth. The only good Garrett left is Kelsey, and Lucinda has the poor child’s life all planned out for her.” Jenny stomped through the kitchen door to the screened porch. “Trying to marry her off to Paul Warfield, with all the money he earned cheating folks. What’s the woman thinking of?”
“Warfield’s mayor of Malone,” Tremaine pointed out, his eyes dancing over the rim of his cup.
“The man’s a crook!” There was a pump on Jenny’s back porch, and Tremaine watched through the window as Jenny pumped furiously for several moments, hauling in the brimming kitchen washtub with strong arms. Placing it on the stove, she stoked the fire.
Tremaine would have offered to help, but he’d learned from past experience that Jenny had certain rules that must always be followed. Rule number one was that she was the master of her own house. She was quite capable of managing by herself.
It was this trait that had endeared her to Tremaine in the first place — that and her cockeyed moral views. Though others in town treated her as a pariah, Tremaine admired her. Each to his own, Jenny always maintained. Except when she felt someone was being cheated.
She was the only woman he truly trusted, and though he enjoyed their on-again/off-again sexual relationship, he was sadly aware it would foil their friendship in the end.
“I should throw that scoundrel out of here,” Jenny muttered.
“Who?”
“Garrett! Haven’t you been listening?”
Tremaine stopped, his cup halfway to his lips.
“It’s not Garrett’s business ways that are bothering me,” Jenny said as she scrubbed furiously at the already spotless china plates. “It’s Jace and Betsy. He’s using her just like he did the last one. That man wants it all.”
“Jace Garrett is upstairs with one of your tenants?” Tremaine sat perfectly still.
“Betsy’s giving him a shave upstairs now.”
“Which room?”
“Number nine.” Jenny paused in her task to regard him squarely. What she read in his face made her breath catch. Tremaine, who seemed to regard life with humor and irony, looked blindly furious. The rumor about his sister and Jace was true, she realized, and selfishly wished Tremaine would bestow on her some of the passion in his eyes, glittering like blue ice. “Just what are you going to do?” she asked, watching him scoot back his chair.
“Take care of things,” was his clipped reply.
¤ ¤ ¤
Betsy Talbot leaned over the man she loved, cautiously shaving his sideburns, softly humming. “It was all a mistake about Miss Danner, then?” She asked for the third time.
“Mmm-hmm.” Jace could almost fall asleep it was so peaceful.
“You’re not gonna marry her, then?”
“Didn’t I just say she was leaving town? Miss Everly’s School for Young Ladies is a long way from Rock Springs.”
“But she’ll be back, won’t she?”
“Unless she finds some Portland man to marry first. Now, hum some more of that tune, honey, and let’s not argue.”
Satisfied, Betsy began shaving his cheek and chin. She wasn’t as dull as she let him think, but she understood what Jace Garrett expected from her. She knew her chances with him were mighty slim. But she had one secret on her side. She suspected there was a new life fluttering within her. Whatever happened, a Garrett wouldn’t abandon his own child.
The door opened with a small squeak. This time Jace barely heard it. The somnolence of the room had worked its magic, and he was on the threshold of a very nice dream. For a moment Betsy stopped shaving and humming and that nearly wakened him, but then the razor stroked down his neck and he tilted his head farther back, exposing the vulnerable stretch of his throat.
The razor slid down his chin and stopped. “Betsy?” Jace murmured, wondering why her fingers seem so hard and tense.
The blade pressed deeply against his throat and Jace’s eyes flew open in terror. Tremaine Danner’s cold blue eyes bore down on him.
“What the—?”
“Lexie thinks you plan to marry her,” Tremaine said in a reasonable voice. “I’d like to hear it from your own lips.”
Jace searched wildly for Betsy. She stood on the opposite side of the room, her eyes huge. “You can’t just come in here and demand—”
“The hell I can’t. I’d better hear your intentions to my sister are honorable,” Tremaine said with a humorless smile. “Otherwise I’ll slit your throat.”
Jace swallowed, but there was no spit in his mouth. His eyes bulged. “I’m — I’m—”
The blade pressed the tiniest bit tighter.
“I’m going to marry her!” he burst out.
The same moment Tremaine removed the blade, a cry erupted from Betsy’s lips. She ran out of the room and Jace glared at Tremaine, his hand cupped protectively around his throat.
“You maniac! I believe you would kill me, Danner!” Jace charged. “I haven’t made the engagement official because your damn father won’t let me set foot on your property!”
“My damn father,” Tremaine stressed warningly, “knows what kind of man you are. Don’t expect a warm reception if you ever get up the nerve to actually ask for Lexie’s hand in marriage. I’d venture he’d turn you down flat.”
“Lexie hasn’t,” Jace answered smoothly, pleased by the brief flare of anger in Tremaine’s eyes.
“She won’t go against my father’s wishes.”
“She’d run off with me tomorrow if I crooked my finger.”
“You’re in a mighty vulnerable position to be talking like that,” Tremaine snarled, twisting the razor in his hand.
Jace swallowed, discretion being the greater part of valor. His throat felt arched and exposed. There was only so much baiting Danner would stand.
¤ ¤ ¤
Tremaine would have dearly loved to rip Garrett’s tonsils out with his bare hands. He couldn’t imagine what Lexie saw in this scum. With a growl of frustration, he flung the razor on the table, then yanked Jace forward until the chair bumped down on its front legs. Instantly Jace sprang to his feet, his pallor purpling with suppressed rage.
“You take your brotherly responsibilities too far!” he spat between cle
nched teeth.
“I know that Lexie wouldn’t take kindly to knowing about Betsy.”
He wouldn’t tell her, would he? Jace’s chest tightened as he searched Tremaine’s dark face for a clue to his intentions. No, Tremaine wouldn’t disillusion Lexie unless he absolutely had to; Jace knew enough about Danner’s principles to call this one right. “Betsy,” he said firmly, “was just giving me a shave. If I wanted a woman, I’d park myself in plain view at the Half Moon. Jenny’s just being a mother hen.”
Tremaine didn’t believe him for one instant. Jace’s reputation — for all the zealous care he took to preserve it — was far from sterling. But Tremaine was loath to break the news to Lexie.
His temper cooler now, Tremaine remarked dispassionately, “Lexie says she loves you. I hope she’s wrong.”
Jace’s dignity had taken a beating, but he wasn’t a man to be easily intimidated. “That would gall you right down to your socks, wouldn’t it? Being brother-in-law to a Garrett.” He chuckled. “I must admit, I’m looking more forward to the union every day.”
“You’re a cold bastard, Garrett. I’d look out, if I were you.”
“Am I supposed to understand what that means?” For all his blustering remarks, Jace’s back broke out in a fine sweat. He’d always been a bit in awe of Tremaine Danner. The man was too handsome and tough and impervious to anything but his own damnable code of ethics.
“It means you’d better treat her right or your head’s mine,” Tremaine warned softly.
“You’re supposed to be a doctor. What kind of threat is that? You’re not above the law, Danner!”
But Tremaine had already turned away from him in disgust, and Jace’s rising voice was lost on the empty room.
Chapter Five
Matilda regarded Lexie, calmly letting Lexie run her hand down her leg. “The swellings definitely down, girl,” Lexie said, patting the jersey’s sleek neck. “You’re almost as good as new.”
Straightening, Lexie climbed over the rails out of Matilda’s stall. She reached up and unhooked the lantern from its peg. It was dark in the barn, pitch black without the lamp’s uncertain light. Lexie picked her way carefully across the hay-strewn floor until she reached the plank down to the ground. Rain dimpled the puddles surrounding the barn and ran off the eaves in small, persistent streams. Lexie sighed. It wouldn’t do to ruin these clothes, too. Her mother would kill her for sure. Sweeping her bonnet from the hay bale, she smashed it on her head.
She stepped cautiously onto the wet plank. Her shoes started sliding and she held out her arms, half-running, half-slipping down the ramp. On the ground she checked each piece of sod and tuft of grass carefully before stepping on it until she reached the gravel drive that made a sweeping curve beneath the portico.
Supper was probably nearly ready; cook had been working all day, Eliza said, making it possible for them to accomplish their trip into Rock Springs and back, and still have time for Lexie’s special celebration party. Lexie’s shoulders slumped. She had no enthusiasm for this gathering — unless Jace comes by, she thought hopefully, glancing down the lane. She hadn’t lied when she told her mother he might stop by; Jace almost said as much last night. But there was no sound of the Garrett carriage in the lane, only a noisy chorus of frogs from one of the pools created by the rain. Lexie stood beneath a portico, peering through the paned windows into the candlelit dining room. Her mother’s twin silver candelabras sat at both ends of the long table, their light quivering above a starched peach tablecloth — linen overlaid with Italian lace — a gift from her grandmother, Eliza had told Lexie when she posed the question about its origin. Pale peach bone china refracted the light in rich, gleaming sparkles. There were seven place settings, one for each member of the family. If Jace did arrive, Eliza would have to set another place. Lexie prayed he wouldn’t let her down. Pushing open the front door, Lexie delicately shook the water from her cape. She swept the bonnet from her head and checked her shoes. Then she lifted her skirts and climbed the stairs to her room.
There was laughter coming from Harrison’s room. Lexie could hear Jesse’s sardonic tones and Harrison’s more jovial ones. She smiled and thought about finding out what had put them in such good humor, but then she remembered her own part in this occasion and she went to her bedroom to get ready. Tossing her cape on her bed, she sat down at her dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She tried on several smiles but none of them seemed quite right. With a sigh, she unwound her braids, brushed her hair, then plaited it once more, letting the golden coil fall over one shoulder. Her dress was still clean and fresh, saved from destruction by her cape, but Lexie pulled another from the closet. This was made of green cotton lawn with a delicate design of seed pearls around the neck.
Pouring water from a pitcher into her washing bowl, she washed her face, the cold water making her skin tingle, then she pulled the dress over her head. In the mirror her breasts gleamed provocatively above the neckline and, with humor twisting her mouth, she decided she hadn’t given the corset its proper respect.
She felt more alert by the time she descended the stairs to dinner. Halfway down the steps, she heard the lilt of her mother’s laughter, a noise so rare as to be nonexistent. Eliza was in the dining room and, from the sounds of it, so were Pa and Lexie’s brothers. Except for Tremaine.
She was on the bottom step when she heard hoofbeats approaching and for a moment her pulse leapt. Jace! But then through the steaming window she recognized Tremaine’s buggy. Fortune was puffing and stamping beneath the portico. The door opened and Tremaine strode inside, soaked to the skin.
“I’m too late,” he said, observing Lexie.
Her hand still lay on the curving end of the stairway rail. Unaware what caused the sudden narrowing of Tremaine’s gaze, she had no idea how picture-perfect she looked at that moment. “You’re not too late,” she said. “I haven’t joined them yet.”
“I need to rub down Fortune and change.” He glanced toward the dining room. A wave of laughter swelled upward.
“We’ll wait.” Lexie was thankful for any delay to the charade of happiness she was going to be forced to play.
“You look beautiful, Lexie.”
She flung her startled gaze his way. Compliments from Tremaine were as rare as diamonds. “Thank you,” she said.
The sconces by the door drew a glowing circle of light around her. Her hair was soft and golden, her skin firm and supple. The fabric of her dress had a velvety cast and the rustle of her petticoats was like a tantalizing invitation.
For a moment Lexie imagined Tremaine looking at her with intent, burning eyes. Her stomach made a peculiar somersault, the way it did when she dreamed of being with Jace.
Unprepared, Lexie shrank back against the balustrade, sensing her brother’s masculinity in a way that alarmed her.
Then Tremaine smiled and she berated herself for being a silly goose. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, and went out the door.
Lexie walked across the plankwood entry to the dining room. She stopped short in the doorway, shocked by the sight that met her eyes. Pa was pulling the cork from a bottle of champagne and Lexie watched in amazement as the cork released with a loud pop and champagne fizzed over his hands and into a waiting crystal goblet.
She remembered that her father had once been a prominent Boston physician, not a small-town Oregon farmer. Like her mother, there were sides to her father she could only guess at and the realization made her uncomfortable.
“This one must be mine,” Pa said, wiping the goblet with one of the elegant napkins. Smiling, he poured his wife a glass, then another for Harrison. Jesse and Samuel were apparently deigned too young.
Lexie had never seen her parents drink champagne before. She wondered why her acceptance to Miss Everly’s School was such an achievement.
Seeing her, Pa’s smile widened. “Lexie!” he called, motioning her into the room. He poured another goblet full of the frothy liquid.
&nbs
p; A silence fell on the gathering. Lexie felt herself the cynosure of all eyes and was slightly unnerved. Samuel looked nonplussed, Harrison regarded her with a kind of anxious pleasure, Eliza’s lips were parted in delight, and Pa, as he held the champagne toward her outstretched hand, said softly, “You’re as lovely as your mother when I first met her.”
Embarrassment pinkened Lexie’s cheeks. “Is the champagne in my honor? I haven’t done anything.”
“Well, actually, we’re honoring both you and Harrison,” Pa said, glancing at his wife.
Eliza sipped her drink with an inbred gentility that increased Lexie’s nervousness. “Harrison is also going away to study this fall.”
“To study?” Lexie asked blankly. She turned to Harrison, surprised that he hadn’t told her.
“I just found out,” he admitted, frowning into his drink.
“Study where?”
“Dr. Breverman has accepted Harrison to apprentice with him,” Eliza said quietly.
The room seemed to sway before Lexie’s eyes. Dr. Breverman! The horse doctor! The one man Lexie would sell her soul to learn from? Lexie’s hand shook and Harrison was there to rescue her untouched glass. Dimly, she was aware of Annie bringing in the succulent leg of spring lamb. She saw the quivering bowl of Eliza’s mint jelly placed beside it. The candles danced. Lexie’s eyes blurred.
“Harrison’s going to Portland to study under Dr. Breverman?” she asked stiltedly.
“It’s what he’s been wanting,” said Pa, uncomfortably.
“It’s what we’ve both been wanting, you mean!” Lexie cried bitterly. “How could you? How could you?” She turned blindly, resenting the whispering rustle of her dress, aiming for the door.
“Lexington, I forbid you to leave this room,” Eliza said.
Annie stood in the archway to the entry hall, holding two silver pitchers of sparkling well water, their outsides dewy with cold. The young maid looked alarmed as Lexie swept past her, nearly knocking her over in her bid for escape.