Wildfire in His Arms (40 page)

Degan turned as Max joined him at the end of the porch, the side that caught a view of town. He thought she made a much better view. She'd changed into one of the dresses she'd left behind, a blue-and-green gingham that brought out the blue in her eyes. She looked beautiful, even in an old dress, even with butchered hair, but he'd like to see her in silk, just once, before . . .

He didn't finish the thought. Usually he looked forward to moving on, but not this time.

“Your grandmother reminds me of Adelaide Miller.”

“Are you calling her cantankerous?”

“No, just bossy.”

Max grinned as she put her hands on the porch railing next to him. “Maybe a little. But she'll grow on you.”

The way Max had grown on him? She'd definitely gotten under his skin. She'd broken down his barricades, too, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. He couldn't remain aloof anymore. Not with her.

He looked back toward town and the house on the hill behind it. Like a lordly manor, it had full views of the domain the man inside it ruled. Was he a flawed leader or an ironfisted tyrant? Degan would be finding out soon. He nodded toward the house. “I assume that's your mayor's residence?”

“He calls it a mansion.”

“I wouldn't.”

“He does, just 'cause it's got more'n five bedrooms in it. Gran said he just kept adding to it over the years, spreading it all over that hill.” But then she warned, “You need to have eyes in the back of your head while you're here, Degan. There's no telling what Carl will do when he finds out you thwarted him.”

“Do I look worried?”

She glanced up at him. “
Would
you look worried? Ever?”

He didn't answer. He fluffed her hair instead. “She hasn't cut it yet.”

“Give her time, we just got here. And she did notice. She picked up a lock and humphed. I expect she'll come after me with the scissors tomorrow.”

They both saw Grady Pike riding toward them from town. Max leaned a little closer to Degan. He put his arm around her shoulders. He didn't like the way Pike made Max nervous, didn't like the way the man had treated her, either, all in the name of Bingham's trumped-up law. It was a wonder he hadn't shot the man. He'd certainly had the urge to and still did.

Grady pulled up his horse below them at the side of the porch. “The mayor would like a word with you, Mr. Grant. You've been invited to dinner at his house.”

“Do you like being an errand boy, Pike?”

“This is official business,” Grady insisted.

“No, it isn't. And I'm having dinner with my wife's family tonight. But I'll pay your mayor a visit afterward. You can tell him I'm looking forward to it.”

Grady gave him a hard look before he yanked his horse around and rode back to town. Beside Degan, Max said determinedly, “I'll go with you.”

“No, you won't. You don't have the temperament for this meeting.” Then he lightened his tone before adding, “But if I end up in jail, you can rescue me.”

“He wouldn't dare!” she growled, but after a glance at him, she snorted. “Oh, you were joking.”

“I'm actually not discounting any possibility. But then all I know about Carl Bingham is what you've told me, and you're known to exaggerate. And you have another visitor.”

She followed his gaze and then squealed, “Johnny!” She ran down the porch steps to meet her brother. Degan leaned against the railing, watching them as the young man lifted Max and swung her in a full circle around him before giving her a bear hug. It was easy to tell they were siblings. They both had the same ash-blond hair and the same bone structure, which made one beautiful and the other quite handsome. While the boy might be younger by a few years, he was now the taller by a half foot.

Max remarked on it. “Look at you! You sure sprouted, baby brother.”

“You've been gone a long time.”

The censure in the boy's tone earned him a punch in the arm. “Not by choice!”

Abashed, Johnny said, “I know, it's just been horrible around here without you. I expected you back last year when the mayor became our guardian.”

“I didn't know about that, and if I did, I would have been running even farther in the opposite direction. He might've dropped the charges against me, but how was I to know when he didn't bother to have the wanted posters canceled?”

As they approached the porch, Johnny caught Degan's eyes on him. “Holy cow, it's true? You brought a husband home with you?”

“Who told you?”

“Carl sure didn't,” Johnny complained. “I heard his servants gossiping about it after the sheriff visited.”

“Gran said you were planning to go off to college in the fall. Was that your idea?”

“Yeah, not that I really want more schooling. But I figured it would prove what a fraud Carl is if he refused to send me. But he didn't, and it's better'n staying in Bingham Hills. Anywhere would be better'n here.”

“Then you didn't like living in Carl's house?”

“Are you kidding?”

Max rolled her eyes. “You sure fooled Gran. She thinks you like it there.”

“I put on a good show for her. I don't want her to worry about me.”

“We'll figure things out, Johnny, I promise. I don't think Carl can still claim guardianship of you now that we have a new head of the family. Come and meet him.” Then she added in a whisper that Degan still caught, “Don't be afraid of him. He's on our side.”

D
EGAN RODE HIS HORSE
up the hill. It was steep enough that it would be a tiring walk for someone Bingham's age, which was probably why a buckboard and two horses were left out front. The man had wanted to be up high enough to easily survey the town he'd founded, but he hadn't considered how inconvenient that would be. His two-story house was built of stone and had a wide front porch that ran the length of the house.

Degan was shown to a grand parlor. It could have been a parlor in Chicago. Not very tasteful in decor, a little grandiose, but obviously every piece of furniture had been freighted in from the East. It probably didn't get much use and had likely been decorated for show, to impress the locals. Degan wasn't left there long. Another servant appeared and escorted him to the mayor's study. Bingham was already there.

He wasn't as old as Max had led him to believe, possibly approaching seventy, yet still robust with few wrinkles on his face. He had a full head of white hair, side whiskers, and light green eyes that showed no malice. Degan found it hard to credit that this man had ever frightened Max. He appeared utterly harmless, but Degan sensed it was an illusion, the man's public persona, not his true nature. No wonder he'd fooled this town for so long.

“I assume we can dispense with introductions?” Carl said, waving a hand toward the comfortable chair across from the large desk. “You might be notorious in the rest of the West, Mr. Grant, but down here, we haven't heard of you—until now, that is.”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. Whiskey?”

“No.”

The bottle and two glasses were on the desk. Carl still poured one for himself. As long as the mayor kept his hands above the desk, Degan would keep his gun holstered. Threats would be pointless. They wouldn't last after he rode out of Bingham Hills. But one thing still needed saying.

“If you had raped Max, this meeting would be for a different reason. You know that, right?”

Carl was only discomposed for the briefest moment before he replied confidently, “You wouldn't kill me.”

“Yes, I would.”

Confidence gone, the man's true colors showed when he complained hotly, “She shot me!”

“Self-defense. You were in the wrong, Mayor, she wasn't. But I'm here for an explanation. I want to know why she had to leave home for close to two years because of you.”

Carl sighed and sat back, a glass in his hand though he didn't drink from it. “I'm used to getting what I want. That's why I founded this town so long ago and built it into what it is today. And someday, in my lifetime mind you, it will rival Fort Worth. This is my town. I control what happens here. I thought Max would be thrilled to marry my boy once she was old enough. She'd have servants waiting on her hand and foot, all the fancy dresses she could've wanted, anything her little heart desired. Not once did I think she'd thumb her nose at all this.” Carl waved a hand to encompass his house. “You know I could've done worse things to get rid of that eyesore farm of theirs, but I didn't. I'm not as ruthless as she seems to think I am. I might've gotten a little carried away, trying to compromise her to the altar, but I was desperate at the time.”

“What warranted desperation?”

“The gal had turned into a beauty. Half the men in town were in love with her. Someone else was going to snatch her up before much longer.”

“You're wrong, you know. Force her to do something she doesn't want to do, and she'll fight you tooth and nail. And that's a fact I've seen verified.”

“Well, stubbornness runs in that family. I offered Widow Dawson a fortune for that farm of hers. I even offered to take it down piece by piece and put it back up anywhere she wanted, and she would've got rich to boot. That woman isn't reasonable. She wouldn't even discuss it. But my offer still stands.”

“In the time Max has been gone, you could have whittled down some of your hills to the south or turned your woods into a park and built around it. Did none of that occur to you, Mayor?”

“Of course it did, but that farm is still going to be an eyesore, butting up against town as it is now. It's standing in the way of progress. This affects the whole town, not just me. I love this town, there isn't much I wouldn't do for it.”

“Including forcing Max to marry you or your son.”

“She would've been happy in the end. All women are enamored of wealth.”

Degan shook his head at that reasoning. “Then you would have forced her to get her grandmother to sell to you?”

“I wouldn't have had to do any such thing. Max in
my
family makes me the head of hers.”

“A position that is now mine.”

Carl actually chuckled. “Let's face it, Mr. Grant, this town is too peaceful for a man of your talents. And we both know you aren't going to take up chicken farming.”

Degan laughed to himself. “No, I'm not.”

“I don't just want the Dawson land, I still want Max. Maybe I haven't made that clear, Mr. Grant. I need someone with her courage and spirit in my family. Damn, the gal survived almost two years in the wild on her own. Max can give me the kind of sons who will carry on my legacy.”

Degan forced himself not to reach for his gun. “You have a son, don't you? What happened to him?”

“The damn fool left. Said he didn't want to be pinned down here, said I was asking too much of him.” Carl waved a hand in frustration. “I'm prepared to pay you any amount you name to sign these divorce papers I've had prepared—”

Degan stood. “Max isn't for sale. If you ever suggest again that she is, or if you ever go near her again, you'll not only see how fast I can draw a gun, you'll feel it.”

His face red with anger, Carl stood, too. “Then what are your intentions?”

“I have a proposal for you.” Degan handed Carl a piece of paper on which he'd written the price he thought Ella should ask for her farm.

Carl looked down at the paper. “Are you crazy?”

“That includes compensation for Max for your robbing her of two years of her life and endangering her with those phony wanted posters you sent out.”

Still fuming, Carl said, “If I agree to this, you'll get the hell out of my town and never come back?”

“I plan to take Max out of town for a while. Other than that, I have no intentions that would concern you.”

“I hope you're taking your womenfolk with you—
all
of them.”

“There are only two.”

“I believe he was including me in the number,” Allison Montgomery said peevishly from behind Degan. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here.”

Degan closed his eyes. Not again . . .