Chapter Eleven
L
EANNE MURMURED WITH PLEASURE AS SHE
sank into the hot, scented bathwater. It was the perfect cure for such a trying day. Even having her stitches out was easy after her confrontation with Sheriff Martin. The memory of that bitter meeting made her shiver. She wished they had taken the man straight to the territorial court. Their meeting had produced only a stream of filthy abuse and lies. She had feared someone might believe those lies, jeopardizing the clearing of her name.
Fortunately, that had proven an empty concern. A few of the bitter insults he had snarled at her had inadvertantly confirmed her story. A grim-faced Hunter had then hurried her out of the jail straight to the doctor’s, where, still reeling from Martin’s verbal assault, she had barely noticed Dr. Frazer tugging out her stitches.
Shaking away those memories, she concentrated on a good thorough bath. When, somewhat awkwardly, she poured the pitcher of rinsewater over her soapy hair, it ran down her face. Her eyes squeezed shut to ward off any of the soap. She leaned over the edge of the tub slightly and groped for the towel she had left there. She touched the toe of a boot even as a leather-gloved hand took hold of hers and the towel was pressed into it. Hurriedly she wiped her face, eager to greet Hunter and find out what had happened concerning Sheriff Martin.
“You’re back earlier than I thought you would be, Hunter.”
“Hunter’s not back yet.”
It was hard to open her eyes. She had the brief foolish thought that if she kept her eyes closed, she could avoid embarrassment. Holding the towel against her breasts, she finally looked at the owner of that deep voice and her fear eased slightly. Anyone who looked so much like Hunter had to be a relative of his. She met his grin with a stern frown.
“And just who are you?”
“Owen Walsh. Tarrant’s—Hunter’s brother.” He stuck out his hand.
“I am afraid the amenities must wait until I am more presentable. Could you please wait in the other room?”
As soon as he was gone, she got out of the tub, quickly dried off, and then threw on the robe Hunter had bought for her. While she did not appreciate being caught in her bath, she was pleased that one of Hunter’s family had finally shown up. Hunter had not said anything, but she had sensed that the continued absence of his family was troubling him deeply. It had been over a week since he sent them word. She just hoped Owen Walsh was not here to deliver news that would only hurt Hunter.
Straightening her shoulders and quickly brushing a semblence of order into her towel-dried hair she stepped into the other room. Hunter had booked two rooms in a thin attempt to maintain an air of propriety. The connecting door between the two, however, had never been shut, and she suspected a lot of people knew that, including this younger, softer version of Hunter who again extended his hand.
“You must be Leanne Summers,” Owen said as they shook hands.
Frowning a little as she waved him to a seat, she asked, “You know me?”
“Know of you. Tuckman told me a while back, shortly after you started riding with Hunter, I reckon.”
“Oh. Would you like a drink? Hunter has some fine brandy. Oh, and some cigars.”
“Sounds real fine. I’ll have both, please. It was a long dusty ride here.”
After serving him the brandy and lighting his cigar, she briefly thought about returning to dress more modestly. But, he had already seen her in far less and the robe was very modest.
“Hunter should be back before long. We’re to dine downstairs this evening. Will you be joining us?”
“Reckon so. Is he still tied up with this Watkins business?”
“Yes, and he probably will be until the man is tried in the territorial court.”
As they waited for Hunter, they quietly conversed. Although he was subtle about it, Leanne recognized that Owen was after as much information as he could wheedle out of her with his soft, polite ways and winning smile. She did her best not to give him much. While she did not feel she had anything to hide, she was not sure of what Hunter would or would not want his family to know. She felt relieved when Hunter finally strode into the room because it was not as easy as she would have liked to be politely evasive with Owen Walsh.
While the brothers greeted each other, she got Hunter some brandy and a cigar. After topping up Owen’s drink, she excused herself to dress for dinner. She felt it best if they had some time alone.
“Very pretty,” Owen murmured as Hunter sprawled in the chair across from him.
“And mine.”
With a meaningful glance around the connected rooms, Owen grinned. “That did occur to me.”
“I’m going to marry her.” Hunter watched his brother closely but discovered that Owen was as hard to read as ever. “As soon as I’ve cleared our names and finished with Watkins.”
“Congratulations. Don’t look so stern. My hesitation was simply for a brief thought on our mother.” He laughed softly at Hunter’s exaggerated grimace. “Tuckman told me about the girl weeks ago. It sounded as if she got as raw a deal as you did.”
“Maybe worse.” He gave Owen a succinct version of how Leanne had ended up with him.
“Poor kid. Tuckman sees no real trouble in clearing her name though, does he?”
“No, not really. Fact is, it’s mostly a formality now. A lot of law was standing around listening close when Sheriff Martin was brought in. The fool ranted loud and long when he saw Leanne and said more than enough to verify her tale and hang himself.”
“And the tale’s probably spread from pillar to post already, which can only help her.”
“Has any of it spread out to the ranch? Just how much had you been told?”
“Not much more than periodic assurances that you were alive. Pa’s itching to hear it all and to be sure that your name’s cleared. I know it doesn’t look that way with us taking so long to get here, but we were knee-deep in the roundup when you sent word. What we wanted to do had to be set aside until we’d done what we had to do.”
“Of course. I’ve lost touch of the ranch’s schedule. Tell me honestly, Owen, how warm do you think my homecoming will be?”
“Better than you’re thinking, I’d wager. Pa, Justin, and Thayer are feeling pinched with guilt over hesitating in believing you. Craig was furious that he wasn’t sent word immediately. Ma and Laurie”—he shrugged—“they’re two sides of a double-headed coin. You know how Ma is.”
“Yeh. I caused a scandal. Innocence or guilt doesn’t much matter. And Laurie still follows her?”
“Like a stallion after a mare in season. Y’know, this business with you has drawn the line between our parents like nothing else before. Things haven’t been good for a long time, but they don’t even pretend they are now.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
“No call for you to feel sorry or guilty. Fact is, I find it easier. More honest. We’re all old enough to handle the truth. I don’t think our mother can ever forgive Pa for taking her away from New Orleans, and that’s slowly turned it all sour. Her too really. I think Pa wishes it were different, but there’s not much move for change on her part.”
“Funny, isn’t it? Pa was what he is when they met and wed, yet for as long as I can remember she’s always tried to change him. Reckon that just wore thin after a while.”
“Well, she still plays her games and Pa still just shrugs them off. Don’t expect things to have changed that much.”
Hunter cursed softly. “It might be best if I warn Leanne about her then.”
“Just might be. She’s still got some set ideas on the right mate for you. She’s not going to appreciate you choosing your own.”
Before Hunter could express his opinion on that, Leanne returned. She wore a simple blue gingham dress, but he thought her lovely. As he and Owen escorted her down to the hotel’s small dining room, Hunter noted the subtle admiration in his brother’s glances toward Leanne. He trusted Owen but recognized that he could face some real competition for Leanne now.
Pretty young women were scarce in the area, and marriage was the only claim a lot of men recognized. He briefly considered changing his plans and marrying her as soon as possible, then shook his head. Marriage was a new start, and until their names were cleared, their troubled past set firmly behind them, that start was not possible. Neither would it hurt for her to know what his life was really like with the ranch and his family before they took that serious step. Thoughts of his parents’ troubled marriage strengthened that opinion.
When Owen expressed his delight over her and Hunter’s impending marriage, he was so sincere that Leanne felt a lot of her nervousness melt away. As the meal progressed, however, and she listened to Hunter and his brother talk of the ranch, their family, and their acquaintances she began to feel uncertain. She had accepted that Hunter was no outlaw, but she now began to suspect he was a lot more than a simple rancher. It began to look as if he might be wealthy, his family one with some power and prestige.
And what was she? She had been educated and raised as a lady, more or less, but that was about all she had in her favor. She had no real family. The woman who had raised her was, not to put too fine a point on it, no better than a whore. For weeks she had been running around with five men, branded an outlaw and with a price on her head. That was not the kind of girl a wealthy, prominent rancher’s son brought home to mama and papa, she thought bitterly.
The doubts and fears she had begun to talk herself out of began to creep up on her again. They were hard to fight. A treacherous little voice in her head insisted upon reminding her that her father had deserted her, Charity had tossed her out, and the town she had grown up in had turned its back on her. Why should a man like Hunter be more loyal?
“Everything all right, darlin’?”
Startled out of her darkening thoughts by Hunter’s soft question, she realized that she had been toying with her food. The apple pie she had found so delicious a few moments ago sat half-eaten. Setting down her fork, she forced a smile for Hunter.
“Simply too full to finish.” Her smile became more real when there was a brief tug of war between the two men over her plate, one which Owen won.
Narrowly eyeing his brother as Owen quickly finished the pie, Hunter drawled, “Pretty soon you’ll be as wide as you are tall.”
“I’m a growing boy.” Flashing a quick grin, Owen leaned back in his chair and sipped at his wine.
“You’re twenty. You’re done growing. Only place you’ve got left to go is out.”
“You’ll be softening before me, brother of mine.”
The mildly insulting yet playful banter continued for several minutes before, to Leanne’s relief, Hunter spoke of turning in for the night. She enjoyed Owen’s company and was pleased, especially for Hunter’s sake, that the man had come. Nevertheless, she was failing in all her attempts to improve her sinking spirits and preferred to end the evening early rather than dampen the mood of their reunion.
Suspecting that Hunter had sensed her troubled state, that it prompted him to leave Owen sooner than he might have, she protested, “I can go up alone, Hunter. Visit with your brother a while if you want.”
“We can visit tomorrow. I’m tired and, I think, so are you. It hasn’t been the easiest of days.”
She smiled at Owen as Hunter gently tugged her to her feet. “Good night, Owen. We’ll see you at breakfast?”
“That you will, and probably more than you’d like in the days to come.”
Even as she responded politely, Hunter started to tug her along to their rooms. She noted that he looked a little grim but said nothing. Selfish though she knew it was, she was too caught up in her own troubled thoughts to think much on what might be bothering him.
Hunter frowned as he watched Leanne disappear into the connecting room to get ready for bed. After stripping down to his trousers and washing up, he poured himself a brandy and sipped it as he sprawled on the bed.
Something was clearly troubling Leanne. He wondered if Owen had somehow relayed anything but acceptance but quickly dismissed the thought. Of all his family, he knew Owen the best. Owen’s welcome of Leanne had been sincere.
Next he considered the confrontation with Sheriff Martin as the source of her moodiness. That scene had been appalling. He had had to be held back from attacking the man as Martin had spewed his lies, slander, and hatred. Leanne had gone quite ashen, clearly cut deeply by that hatred flung at her. He shook his head. She had recovered from that. He was sure of it.
That left him with little to blame her mood on. Living in the hotel was not the best of situations, but they had just spent week upon week in far worse conditions. He considered and cast aside several other possibilities, growing more and more frustrated at his inability to understand her mood. When she stepped into the room he was still without a solution.
Seeing the dark scowl Hunter wore, Leanne briefly contemplated retiring to the other room for the night. She was feeling uncertain and sad and in no state of mind to deal with Hunter’s moodiness. Sighing, she made her way to the bed, shed her robe, and slid beneath the covers.