Scarlet Sunset, Silver Nights

by Leigh Greenwood

  “Isn’t California a bit of an adventure, even for you?” Pamela asked, hoping to change the subject from English Dukes or their houses.

  “Yes, but I’ve heard so much about San Francisco I couldn’t wait any longer to see it.”

  “It would have been much easier to have taken a ship and crossed Panama.”

  “But so much less exciting.” Amanda looked up at Slade. “Much less exciting. Besides, I wanted to see you again,” she said turning back to Pamela. “You’ve taken so long about getting back to Baltimore.” She reached over to give Pamela’s hand a squeeze. “I had begun to despair of your ever coming back. We miss you very much.”

  Pamela was appalled that her first impulse was to snatch her hand away. Had jealousy made her that petty? And it was jealousy. There could be no doubt about it. She couldn’t deny it no matter how ashamed she might be.

  She never doubted Amanda’s sincerity. Amanda did want her back. But she was thinking of the shy, admiring companion Pamela had been all through her teens. Amanda could have no idea how much Pamela had changed.

  Until now even Pamela hadn’t realized it.

  Three years of managing her father’s household, sharing in his decisions about the ranch, and living in the harsh, demanding Arizona territory had changed her from a starry-eyed, impressionable girl only too ready to follow the lead of her sophisticated friend into a woman who demanded that life come to her on her own terms.

  And then there was Slade. Two weeks of being forced to question everything she had ever believed, of having her failings held up to the strong light of his scrutiny, had turned her into a woman even her father might not recognize.

  “I’m sorry about the shooting prank. I’m afraid it has ruined your visit.”

  “Not in the least.”

  “But you can’t ride or see anything, not with that ankle.”

  “But I can,” Amanda announced happily, just as though she were giving Pamela a wonderful surprise. “Mr. Morgan has agreed to be my prop and stay for the next few days. He has promised to see I get wherever I wish to go.”

  Pamela turned to Slade, her jaw threatening to go slack in a very unsophisticated manner.

  Frederick was more direct. “Damn it, Amanda, the poor man doesn’t want to be at your beck and call for days on end.”

  “Slade can’t resist a damsel in distress,” Pamela said, determined to appear just as blase as Slade. “Of course he’s not very dependable. Gunslingers sometimes have to leave on a moment’s notice.” The openly sarcastic tone of her voice surprised even herself. Frederick looked at her in some disbelief.

  “Are you a good shot?” Amanda asked Slade, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Frederick is a perfect whiz with a rifle, but I don’t really count that, not compared to a pistol.”

  “A rifle bullet can kill you just as quickly as any other,” Slade said.

  “True, but it doesn’t require nearly so much skill. You are skillful, aren’t you?” she asked suggestively. When Slade showed no response, Amanda shrugged slightly and continued. “Anyway, you’re not as close to the target with a rifle. You have plenty of time to aim. There’s no real danger, is there?”

  “Only if the rifleman doesn’t intend to hit you, like this afternoon. I know a dozen men who can hit a target at more than a thousand yards.”

  “But surely only the most lawless element would hide behind a rock and shoot at people,” Frederick said. “I had been led to believe your western criminals were too busy robbing trains and banks to be interested in ordinary travelers.”

  “The biggest treasure in the West is land, Mr. Olmstead. For that even respectable men will do just about anything, even people from the East.”

  “Speaking of that,” Amanda said, changing the subject, “I heard that Mongo Shepherd is somewhere in Arizona. He’s the son of one of Daddy’s classmates from Yale.”

  “Mongo’s here,” Pamela told her. “I see him fairly often. Would you like me to invite him over for dinner?”

  “Not on my account,” Amanda said. “I never met him. Daddy considered him too wild. He just happened to mention him when we were getting ready to leave. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I shall go to bed. I’m completely exhausted from the trip, and Mr. Morgan is showing me the ranch tomorrow. I want to be all rested up for that.”

  “How are you going to manage?” Frederick asked.

  “In a carriage of some sort,” Amanda said majestically. “Now, Mr. Morgan, if you are ready, I’d like to go to my room.”

  “Really, Amanda, you ask too much.”

  “Oh be quiet, Frederick, unless you propose to carry me yourself.”

  “It would be more suitable.”

  “But not nearly so exhilarating. Oh, Pamela, dear, I do hope you’ve placed Mr. Morgan in the room next to mine, in case I need something during the night.”

  “You are my guest, Amanda, I will see to you if you need anything.”

  “But you might not be able to provide everything I need.”

  “Then you’ll just have to do without it,” Pamela snapped.

  If Pamela thought she had had trouble holding her temper through dinner, the next half hour severely tested her limits. Before Amanda could be settled in her room, she had to be lifted by Slade six different times. It wasn’t the flimsiness of Amanda’s excuses for these constant requests that irritated Pamela as much as Slade’s willing compliance. He argued with her over nearly everything she did, but with Amanda he didn’t seem to have a mind of his own. Whatever Amanda wanted, he did immediately and willingly. Even Frederick found it difficult to hold his tongue.

  “I’m surprised you keep that man around, Pamela. He doesn’t seem like the type to make a good hired hand.”

  “He’s not really a hired hand. He wandered in here looking for a horse and stayed on to help us with the roundup. I told you he was just leaving when you arrived.”

  “From the look of it, he means to stay a while.”

  “Well see about that. I am still the owner of this ranch.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget it. I was just curious.”

  “Don’t worry. He won’t run off with Amanda.”

  Frederick looked at her in utter bewilderment then virtually roared with laughter. Pamela didn’t know why he found that so funny and decided Frederick was laughing at her.

  She didn’t like the feeling.

  “After all these years, dearest Pamela, you still don’t understand Amanda. She only wants two things from a marriage, money and position. Your cowboy is perfectly safe. He could own half of Arizona, but he’s not related to the old monied families of New England. Too, I doubt your cowboy would tolerate the kind of flirtations Amanda enjoys so much.”

  “Why do you?” Pamela demanded. She couldn’t decide which man made her angrier, but Frederick would do until she could get her hands on Slade.

  “It doesn’t mean anything. And we get along tolerably enough.”

  “But don’t you love her?”

  “Sure I do, but it’s not something I want to make a fuss about. Good God, nothing would appall Amanda more than for me to come reciting poetry and poking flowers under her nose.”

  “But you’ve just gotten married. Surely you … I mean, you could almost be on your honeymoon.” Pamela didn’t know quite how to say it.

  “That doesn’t really come into it. We don’t plan to start a family for a few years yet. In the meantime Amanda has her flirtations, and a man has … well you know what I mean.”

  Pamela couldn’t imagine being married to Slade and being content with flirtations until time to start a family. She couldn’t imagine Slade being willing to wait until the wedding night unless he had to. And though every man in the universe might think it perfectly acceptable to satisfy himself with another female, she’d kill her husband if he ever did that to her.

  “If Amanda plans to drag us all over this ranch tomorrow, I’d best get to bed,” Frederick said. “I’m not ashamed to admit the la
st few hundred yards of that trip took a little of the starch out of me.”

  “I’m sorry. If I had known …”

  “It’s not the kind of welcome I expected, but there’s no harm done. Don’t come down too hard on your boys. Good night.”

  She wouldn’t say a word to the boys, but she would break S lade’s head if she managed to get him alone. He had made a disgusting spectacle of himself, fawning over Amanda, picking her up at the slightest excuse, not moving away when she left her arms draped around his neck, not becoming sick to his stomach at the drivel she talked.

  If he wanted to make a fool of himself, why couldn’t he be a fool over her? She didn’t have Amanda’s family connections, sophistication, or wealth, but she was just as pretty. And she wouldn’t sicken him with enough mindless, cloying, revolting prattle to make a normal person throw up.

  That man had no loyalty. After all his talk about not leaving her while any danger remained, of pretending he loved her, he was ready to throw her over for the first female who flirted with him. That’s just like a gunslinger, she thought to herself. People like that have no proper sense of values. They just use people and get rid of them when they’re done.

  “There you are,” Slade said as he stuck his head into the living room. “I’ve been waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  “Have you come to find out what Amanda wants for breakfast so you can take it to her on a tray? Maybe you could offer to bring her a blanket during the night in case she gets cold.”

  Slade’s eyes glittered brightly with a gleam that Pamela didn’t trust and his mouth curved into the all-too-familiar smile that always demolished her resistance.

  “Don’t you start smiling at me, Slade Morgan. You know I can’t stay mad at you then.” She turned away but Slade turned her back around and forced her to look at him.

  “So you can be jealous. I wondered. After the way you wanted to throw me out, I couldn’t help but try to turn the knife in your direction. I told you there was something between us that wouldn’t let us go. I told you I was in love with you. I’m not interested in Amanda.” He grinned again. “I have to admit to a few moments of pleasure watching you squirm. After the way you’ve been lumping me with the riffraff of the West for the last several days, that was balm to my soul.”

  “I never said you were riffraff.”

  “Yes, you did. You said I was a drifter, a saddle bum, a penniless loafer, and a whole lot more. That was before I became a presumptuous cowboy who had the bad judgment to fall in love with a woman far above his station.”

  “Slade, I…”

  “But that’s not why I waited for you. I wanted to tell you I almost left today. I was mad, madder than I’ve been in a long time, but I was also ashamed of the way I treated you. I would have saddled up and been gone if it hadn’t been for your friends.”

  If he told her he was staying to protect Amanda from unknown assailants, she would hit him.

  “But I would have come back. I won’t leave until you can swear you don’t love me and never will. Probably not until you tell me you love someone else.”

  Every bit of Pamela’s anger evaporated. But then it always did when Slade turned on the charm. Only when he acted like the lord-of-the-manor or told her that her views about Arizona and Baltimore were all cockeyed could she look at him with any degree of objectivity. When he told her that he loved her, she was virtually putty in his hands.

  “You didn’t have to hover by her side like her personal slave,” Pamela said. She hated to sound like a jealous cat, but she wouldn’t allow Slade to use the mantel of chivalry as an excuse for fawning attention to Amanda.

  But Slade had no thoughts to spare for Amanda. “I told you I wouldn’t leave as long as you were in danger. After today, it’s even more important that you not be left alone.”

  “You think they were trying to kill Frederick and Amanda?”

  “No. I think they were trying to scare them away, at least make them shorten their visit.”

  “Slade, what’s going to happen?”

  She hated it when he talked like this. Not knowing what was going on made her feel helpless. She’d never paid much attention to the politics of open range grazing because she’d always intended to go back to Baltimore, but now her ignorance chafed her. She didn’t want to be dependent on Slade to tell her what to do, but she had no other choice.

  “I’m frightened,” she said.

  “You should be. I don’t know how or when, but Mongo will make a push to get his cattle on your land.”

  “Mongo can’t be behind this. Somebody almost killed him.”

  “Maybe, but he still wants your land. I think his men were the ones who came here while we were on roundup. And if it’s not Mongo,” Slade continued when Pamela started to protest, “then somebody’s using his greed to further their own ends. Either way, you’re the only thing standing in the way.”

  Pamela still found it difficult to put any credence in Slade’s theories. She simply couldn’t imagine people she had known all her life doing such things. There had to be some other explanation for the things that were happening. But she didn’t have one.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea for us to go riding tomorrow?”

  “We’re safe enough as long as we’re all together.” He pulled her into his arms. “I mean to see that no harm comes to you.”

  Then he kissed her.

  She stiffened at first. They were right back where they were this morning. Nothing was solved and nothing could work out. She shouldn’t give in, but he’d said he’d stay on. And right now she didn’t want him to leave, not even a little bit, and she quickly relaxed into his arms.

  “You realize you’re taking advantage of my momentary weakness,” she murmured as his lips teased her ear lobe.

  “Yes.” He nipped her ears with his teeth.

  “I believe you tell me these horrible things just so you won’t have to go away.”

  “This is why I won’t go away,” Slade said as he gathered her in his embrace.

  Pamela didn’t quibble. Those marvelous, tingly feelings were flowing throughout her body again. As long as he kissed her now, the future could take care of itself.

  It wasn’t a greedy kiss nor was it hot and passionate. Rather it was gentle and reassuring. Disappointed at first, Pamela quickly decided it was just as satisfying in its own way as Slade’s rough, demanding embraces. There was a promise to it of permanence, of a fire that would burn for years with life-giving warmth rather than exhaust itself with life-consuming heat. It was a new side to Slade, one she hadn’t expected, but one she decided she liked very much.

  As he walked back to the bunkhouse, Slade’s brain bombarded him with questions. He hadn’t expected the attack on Pamela’s friends. There seemed to be no reason for it unless … unless they, whoever they were, were determined to isolate Pamela and the Bar Double-B so there would be no witnesses and no questions asked if something happened.

  But that gave rise to a second, more frightening conclusion. If they were willing to go to such lengths against Pamela, it meant something had already happened to her father. If any of this made sense at all, then Josh White had to already be dead. And if that were true, anything else done in this continuing war would be aimed at Pamela.

  Slade experienced the chill of fear, but a deadly cold anger grew in him also. He would find this villain who wanted the Bar Double-B so badly he seemed prepared to do anything to get it. Twice someone had sneaked into the valley. He had no idea what they intended to do the second time, but the attack on Frederick and Amanda signified, at least in Slade’s mind, that they had the ranch under surveillance at all times.

  He wondered how he fit into the unknown killer’s plan—for he would call the man that now—if the man depended on him leaving or if he had already formulated a plan to get rid of him. Did the killer know of his reputation? He might be allowed to go on to California, but Slade had an idea this fella meant to leave no witnesses. If so, he was mar
ked for death.

  Mongo was in this somewhere. Of that much he was certain, but how much had Mongo instigated and how much had been directed by someone else? Slade doubted Mongo would stoop to murder. Besides, he couldn’t imagine Mongo arranging his own shooting. If it hadn’t been for Pamela, he would have died. No, that had been intended to start a shooting war between the two camps. Mongo’s survival hadn’t been part of the plan.

  Could it also have been an attempt to implicate Slade, have him blamed for the shooting? The marshall’s arrival, just after the shooting, seemed too pat to have been chance. No, some very cool, clever man, or woman, was behind this whole thing, calmly pulling the strings that made them all dance. Whether Mongo was in league with them or just a pawn, Slade didn’t know, but the man was such a cocky egotist he was almost more dangerous as a pawn. If Mongo had been acting alone, Slade could have anticipated his moves. Acting alone and being manipulated by this unseen force made him impossible to predict.

  “So Mary told him not to set foot in her house again unless he wanted to be thrown into the goldfish pond.”

  “What did he say then?” Pamela asked.

  “He said he didn’t in the least mind going for a swim as long as she went with him.”

  “And?”

  “She did!” Both women whooped with glee. “Her mother had a fainting spell and her father nearly disinherited her, but Mary’s Mrs. George Frederick Astor now and ten times richer than her parents will ever be.”

  Amanda had spent most of breakfast bringing Pamela up to date on the doings of some of their friends. Slade and Frederick had left the table some time ago.

  “You should see Dolly Appleton. You wouldn’t recognize her now. She gained so much weight she’d make two of herself. And speaking twos, Hattie Evans had twins. The poor girl was prostrate when they both turned out to be females. Her husband practically deserted her. But not so much she’s not pregnant again. She has hopes of more success before the end of the summer.”