by Unknown
She shook her head and took a deep, ragged breath. "He is getting so distrustful about this entire situation, I am beginning to worry about him."
Though Blair was still obviously angry, her voice had gradually softened, "He kept telling me that you were all right, that you would have certain tasks to perform in the line of duty. But, Adam, we waited for so long! If Tom had not come to inquire about Coy, we still wouldn't know . . ."
Adam raked his hand through his hair. She had every right to be angry for the misery he unintentionally put her through. His forgetting to send word to them was inexcusable but he simply wasn't accustomed to having people worry about him. "Blair, I apologize for not letting you and Warren know I was all right, but . . ." Ignoring Bastrop's smirking grin, he glanced at Matthew and Seth, noting their expressions. "I've been busy, and . . . I am still very busy. I think we can discuss this later."
Her anger renewed itself as her gaze slowly swept the room, missing nothing. "Yes, I see how busy you are!" She sneered contemptuously, "For heaven's sake, don't let my worrying about you interfere with your sitting around drinking coffee with your . . . your cronies!"
"That's enough, Blair!" Adam's temper was beginning to rise. He didn't blame her for being angry, but now it seemed she was deliberately trying to humiliate him.
Chuckling, Seth stepped forward. "Deputy, this all sounds interesting — always have liked to see a pretty girl angry, makes them even prettier—but if we could finish our business, I could be on my way. You've given me back my gun, I've paid my bail or fine . . . whatever you want to call it, and it isn't that I don't trust you, but I'd like a receipt for it."
Admiration for his brother welled inside Adam over the way Seth both managed to convey his roguishness and explain the gun that was strapped low to his thigh, and still sound convincing. Then too, it got Blair off his back for a minute; maybe Seth's interruption would give her time to calm down.
"What do you mean, you want a receipt?" he snarled. "Are you questioning my honesty?"
"Stranger, I'd be careful what I implied if I were you," Tom remarked, the taunting expression still on his face. "You have just insulted his integrity. Apparently you don't know who he is, or what kind of reputation he has. It so happens that our good deputy here gunned down two men this morning . . . two men who probably deserved to be killed."
Adam glanced at him sharply. If the situation had been real, he would have told Tom —none too politely —to butt out of his business, and to stop his insinuating remarks, but he deliberately remained silent in order for Seth to establish his role in this scheme they were attempting to pull off.
A cold, harsh expression settled over Seth's face. "I don't care who he is or how many men he has killed. Reputations have never impressed me either." Suddenly, his features softened and his mouth spread into a charming smile. "Hell, I didn't know asking for a receipt to prove I've paid my fine was going to create this sort of disturbance."
"What crime have you been charged with?" Blair asked, her curiosity piqued. Although she was extremely angry at Adam, she would never question his integrity ... yet there was something about the entire matter that did not seem right.
"Gambling, ma'am." He pointed to Matthew. "I got into a little poker game on the train and when the other men started losing, they accused me of cheating and this deputy took their side against mine."
Frowning, she looked at Adam. "Has this man been found guilty of any crime? And am I not correct in assuming in order to be found guilty and a fine levied, there has to be a trial or a hearing?"
Vexed, Adam sighed heavily. "Blair, you don't know what you're talking about, so keep quiet and allow me to attend to my own business."
"Don't you dare talk to me in that tone of voice, Adam Cahill!" she retorted heatedly.
"Ma'am, I'm afraid you don't understand. This man here," Matthew gestured toward Seth, "is who referred to it as a fine. Actually it is a cash bond that is supposed to guarantee his presence in court if someone presses charges. At least that is how we —Judge Parker's deputies — usually handle it. And before you ask, to my knowledge the money does not go into any deputy's pocket, it is sent to Fort Smith."
"Oh ... I see," she muttered, suddenly too embarrassed to even look at Adam. Why did she have to have such a sharp tongue? Why did she allow her mouth to run away with itself without first stopping to think?
Adam realized the situation with Blair was quickly getting out of hand. She had a hair-triggered temper and often spoke out of anger without considering the consequences; the fact that she had tried to interfere with his "prisoner" was proof of that. He also realized it was anger talking instead of her. But, he had just about reached the end of his patience. His temper was slow to rise, but once he became angry, it took a long time to get over it. If this continued, one angry word might lead to another and their relationship could be permanently damaged, because he had no intention of behaving like a henpecked milksop for any woman, not even Blair.
He grabbed a piece of paper and began writing. "You want a receipt? What's your name?"
Seth rocked back on his heels and smiled. "Just make it out to . . . John Smith."
"Seems to be quite a few ‘John Smiths' in the area here lately," Adam muttered sarcastically as he filled in the name and handed the paper to Seth. "Let me give you a couple of pieces of friendly advice, Mr. Smith, there's trouble enough in this town without cardsharps. Gamble all you want, win all you can, but if I hear so much as a rumor you've been cheating, you won't get off so easily next time. But if you were a smart man, when they open that land day after tomorrow, you really should consider claiming a section of it." His eyes glinted angrily. "In case you didn't realize it, that's just a polite way of suggesting that you leave town."
Seth folded the paper and stuck it in his coat pocket. "I'll consider your first bit of advice, but not the second. I have no desire to become a sodbuster. It's a well-known fact that they never have any money—not even two dimes to rub together." He adjusted his holster to imply his prowess with a gun. "I've heard there is plenty of easy money to be made here ... if a man knows the right people. And, who knows, I might meet him at a poker table tonight." He smiled, tipped his hat to Blair and sauntered out the doorway.
Tom watched Seth with a thoughtful, calculating gaze, then he turned back to Adam. "It appears that man could cause a bit of trouble. When are your deputies due to arrive? I've heard most anytime now." "He's here."
Tom's eyes widened, surprised. "One deputy?"
"Yes, Matthew was the only one the judge could spare right now. Maybe later he will send more . . . but I doubt it."
Tom extended his hand to Matthew. "Tom Bastrop here."
"And I'm Matthew Cahill."
"Cahill? You mean you are . . ." Blair gasped. "Are you Adam's brother?"
"Yes, ma'am, I am. I don't think we have been properly introduced yet."
"I ... I am Blair Townsend." Bewildered, she looked at Adam. "You never told me your brother was a deputy, too."
"There are many things you don't know about me, Blair," he replied coldly. "But perhaps you should know that I don't like my authority questioned in front of a prisoner. And I don't like women marching into my office carrying on like fishwives and spouting nonsense they know absolutely nothing about!" He hated to speak so brusquely to her, and, regardless if it caused trouble between them or not, she had to know how he felt about such matters.
Adam's contemptuous and spiteful tone painfully cut to the very core of her being, yet, it also made her so furious she could hardly speak, "Maybe there are other things you do not like very well either." Her anguish peaked to shatter the last shreds of her control. "Perhaps I fit into that category too!"
Thoroughly annoyed, Adam raked both hands through his hair. "There you go, spouting nonsense again!" He moved toward her, reaching for her arm. "Come on, I'll escort you back to the hotel and we can discuss this after our tempers .
. ."
"No!" She yanked her arm from his grasp and glared furiously at him. "Tom brought me over here and I will return to the hotel with him. He is a gentleman and he knows how to treat a woman with the proper respect."
Adam's gray eyes became like shards of ice as he stared at her. His mouth tightened and the muscles in his jaws flexed angrily. "If that's what you want to do, I certainly won't stand in your way!"
"Then step aside!" She threw Adam a scathing look, then turned to Tom, threaded her arm through his and smiled sweetly. "Tom, will you please escort me back to the hotel?"
Tom glanced at Adam and shrugged helplessly, although the smile that toyed with his lips was triumphant. "Of course I will."
Adam sat there for a few minutes in stony silence. Then, he stood and crammed his hat on his head. "Matthew, I’m going to the restaurant to eat, then I am going to get some sleep. Who knows, I might even decide to buy me a bottle!"
"I didn't know you drank whiskey?"
"I don't, but I might start!" Then he shook his head and attempted to smile. "And hell, you know as well as I do, that's a lie. Besides, there's too much trouble going on around here for either of us to have a whiskey-muddled mind. But I do need to get some sleep. Send after me if you need me. And remember, be careful. We might have dangled bait at the right fish, but only time will tell."
Chapter 24
A gamut of emotions ran through Blair as she stood in the doorway of their hotel room and stared pensively across the narrow hall to Adam's room.
Just about the time she had finally summoned enough nerve to face Adam and apologize for her behavior in his office, she heard him leaving his room and did not have enough courage to stop him. Since they planned to return to the ranch first thing in the morning, she had no idea when she would have an opportunity to see him again. Stepping back inside the room, Blair slowly closed the door behind her.
Coy, sitting in the comfortable chair, observed her for a few moments, then asked, "What's the matter. Sis? You look like you’ve just lost your best friend."
"Oh, it is nothing all that important ... I merely wanted to speak to Adam about a . . . personal matter." She was too despondent to talk about her problems right now, and if Coy had the slightest idea how she felt about Adam, he would pester her to death until he had all of the details dragged out of her.
"Didn't I hear him leave a few minutes ago?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you stop him?
She glared at him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?"
He hugged his ribs to keep them from hurting as he laughed. "Yes, people tell me that all the time, but I just inform them, questions are the reason I am so smart." Coy's expression grew thoughtful when Blair did not have a flippant reply. "It doesn't make any sense, though, to let a fellow leave if there is something you want to say to him."
"I told you it wasn't that important—just that message his brother wanted us to give him. Now, please, drop the subject. I don't care to discuss it," she stated curtly, rubbing her arms and walking away from him.
He eyed her suspiciously. "A moment ago, you said it was a personal matter. You never could lie very good."
"Coy!" She whirled about and brandished a fist at him. "If you were not already hurt, I would wallop you one!"
He nodded affirmatively. "Yep, that's what I thought, it's a personal matter. Why do I have a feeling that it's more personal than you've lead us to believe?"
Her expression clouded in anger. "If you don't hush . . . ! You were less trouble when I had to wait on you hand and foot. Why don't you . . . lose consciousness again?" she indignantly charged, her eyes flashing brilliantly at her brother.
"So, it's that serious! And since you look so miserable, you’ve probably argued —and knowing what a temper you have, more than likely the argument was your fault." Smug about his deductions, he crossed his arms and chuckled arrogantly. "I’ll bet you a dollar that I’m right."
"I don't find you amusing. Coy!"
"Well, I do." Suddenly, his eyes and voice softened, "But I think I have given you the wrong idea. There is nothing humorous about your being so miserable. It's just that I always thought you would grow up to be an old maid. I figured no man would be able to tolerate your hot temper, bossiness, and that stubborn streak you have. I don't know Adam all that well, but I have a feeling he is man enough to keep you in line." Noticing how the color seemed to drain from Blair's face—the way it usually did whenever she was furious —Coy added, "Go ahead and get mad; after all, I just paid you a very nice compliment."
"Compliment! That's your idea of a compliment? Well, it certainly isn't mine!"
"Think about it for a minute, Blair, and I know what I'm talking about because our minds have always worked in the same direction. You might not be as bossy as you used to be, but you are still stubborn and quick-tempered, and there's a fire inside you that few women have. For instance, take Grace and Hannah as an example—and don't get me wrong, I'm very fond of them but they are mild, sedate women who agree with everything Samuel and Collin say and do —and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I don't know Adam all that well, but from my impression of him; I doubt if he could be happy with a woman having that sort of temperament."
Tossing her hair across her shoulders in a gesture of defiance, Blair moved toward Coy. "You think you are so smart, don’t you? You think you have it all figured out, don't you? Well, for your information ... for your. . . ." Her shoulders suddenly slumped and her breath seemed to have solidified in her throat. Finally, she spoke in an agonized whisper, "Oh, Coy, I've made a dreadful mistake. I do love Adam, but yesterday after the gunfight, I was so worried ... no, I was scared to death that he had been shot or killed."
He frowned as though trying to recall a vague memory. "I was still groggy at the time, but I think I remember how upset you were. Now, what kind of dreadful mistake did you make?" he asked in a cajoling voice.
"I went to the jail and created a scene. Not only that, I questioned his integrity. ..."
Coy abruptly motioned for her to be quiet. After a few moments, he whispered, "Listen, those are Adam's footsteps in the hall, he must be returning."
Knowing Coy possessed an extraordinary sense of hearing and ability to recall unique sounds, Blair was not about to argue with him. She tiptoed over to the door and pressed her ear against it. Hearing Adam's door open, then close, she whirled about excitedly. "It was him!"
"Then go over there and make up with him, I'm tired of looking at your long face."
"A-are you sure you'll be all right?"
Coy sighed with exasperation. "Blair, I've been telling you all day long, I feel fine. I'll admit, I am sore as hell, and I'm sure I will be for another week or two, but I certainly don't need an around-the-clock nursemaid. Just as we don't need Jake sitting out in the lobby standing guard. Absolutely, Warren is getting worse than an old mother hen. Now, go on, before he leaves again."
Blair moistened her lips and smoothed her skirt over her hips. "All right, but if you need me. . . ."
He laughed. "I won't. Now get out of here."
Adam removed his shirt and boots, then filled the enameled basin from the pitcher of water and washed himself before lighting a cheroot and lying back down on the bed. The need to use the outbuilding in the back of the hotel had awoke him, but when he went outside, it surprised him that the night was still so early. It could not have been past seven—eight o'clock at the most. As tired as he was and as much sleep as he had lost, he figured he would have slept longer.
Adam debated whether to stub out the cheroot and try to go back to sleep, or to get dressed, find Matthew and relieve him for a while. He wanted to talk with Seth, too, but felt it would be too risky for them to be seen together while he was attempting to establish his cover. If Seth discovered anything significant, Adam was confident he would contact him as soon as possible. Then, there
was Blair and that damned quarrel they'd had. He should try. . . .
Suddenly, Adam swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Rubbing both hands over his face, he sighed heavily. "Damn it, I don't need to clutter my head with thoughts about her right now! I have more important things. . . ." His voice broke off, he knew that was a lie, so why waste his breath by saying it aloud?
Adam knew he had reached the point where their relationship had to be resolved. He could deal with the normal problems that faced them, even the argument they'd had. What disturbed him so much —even though it had probably been out of spite and anger—she had turned to Tom Bastrop. He was not a fool, he'd noticed how Tom Bastrop looked at Blair every time he saw her. Hell, even a blind man could see he was attracted to her. And, if his suspicions about Tom were true, Blair could unwittingly be involving herself in serious trouble.
Adam realized if he tried to warn her about Bastrop now, in all likelihood she would think he was just jealous. He'd had enough experience with women to know how they sometimes tried to play one man against another. That wasn't very complimentary to Blair personally, but she was female through and through, and all women were capable of using those instincts. In his opinion, they were as natural as breathing.
Hearing a knock at his door, Adam pulled his thoughts from Blair. Thinking that it was probably Matthew, he padded barefoot across the floor without putting his shirt on and left the two top buttons of his trousers unfastened. Suddenly remembering there was a price on his head, he felt like a fool for being so careless. Annoyed with himself, he hurriedly reached for the gun that was hanging on the bedpost at the head of the bed. When he opened the door, it was through a mere crack that he peered into the hall.