The Marshal's Rebellious Bride (22 page)

“I assume that boy is Morgan’s son,” she stated
without waiting for him to catch up. “I also assume you are his brother.”

He watched the sweet sway of her bottom and the way
sunlight shimmered over her reddish curls. She was a pretty little gal, though
he favored Whiskey more. Now she was a woman who enjoyed life and made her own
rules. A
thought which made him
chuckle. His big
brother probably had a lot to say about some of her “rules.”

Brandy stopped so fast to face him that he nearly
walked right over her. “What is so funny, Mr. Rydell?” Her green eyes flashed
with irritation. “I don’t like being laughed at.”

He shifted back and felt irritation as well. “I was
just thinking about my brother and your sister. It had nothing to do with you.”

Her delicate-looking cheeks grew pink. “I’m sorry but
I…” She slammed her pink bow of a mouth shut and went right back to marching
down the street until she reached the boardwalk. Then she daintily lifted her
skirt to step up onto the boardwalk.

By now he wasn’t the only man watching her, but the
hard look he shot them all insured they kept their distance. She didn’t even
seem to be aware of the people observing her. Or maybe she just didn’t care. He
wasn’t sure what he thought about her, other than he sensed she was hiding
something. Why he thought that, he had no idea.

Whiskey had walked halfway down the boardwalk with
Tyler and stood rigidly awaiting them in front of Kelly’s Opera House. Chase
couldn’t understand her expression, but it didn’t appear that she was thrilled
to have her sister in town. Interesting.

“What are you doing here?” Whiskey
asked
as she looked straight at her sister.

Not to be outdone in showing attitude, Brandy walked
right up to Whiskey. “I came to see my
sweet
sister get married, of course.”

Whiskey narrowed her eyes. “How could you have even
gotten here this quickly all the way from England? Morgan and I haven’t been
talking marriage that long.”

“Our brothers have been talking about it for several
months,” Brandy countered. She tipped up her small chin. “Anyway, I haven’t
been in England for over a year.”

Before Whiskey could question that, Brandy turned to
Chase. “Did you bring a wagon into town? Or do I need to rent a carriage?
Because I’m certainly not riding back to the ranch on horseback.”

Tyler stood a few feet from Whiskey and his head
shifted from watching one sister to another. “We got a wagon at the livery
stable,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. Then he cocked his head as he
looked at the satchel in Chase’s hand. “You got some trunks or something that
we need to fetch from the depot?”

“Of course she does,” Whiskey said at the same time
Brandy said, “No.”

Whiskey eyed her curiously and then shrugged. “I
suppose you can still wear some of those clothes you left behind. Although they
won’t be the latest style like you’re used to wearing.”

Now Brandy shrugged. “They’ll be just fine.” She
looked at her sister’s britches and the braid dangling over her shoulder. “I
see you’re still wearing boy’s clothes.”

Whiskey pursed her lips but, strangely, said nothing.
The hurt was clear in her eyes as she glanced at Chase. “We’d best be heading
home now.”

Chase had been studying the sisters and couldn’t get a
handle on why they seemed so antagonistic with one another. There was something
going on between them…or something had happened in the past. It was clear to
him, though, that Brandy had just stepped all over Whiskey’s feelings. It
aggravated him.

“I reckon you’re right. Tyler, let’s go fetch the
wagon. We’ll come back for the ladies.” He stepped down into the road.

Both of the women followed right after him.

“No sense in us waiting here,” Whiskey explained as
she walked on his right side.

“None at all,” Brandy added from his left side.

* * *

By the time they sat down to eat beans and cornbread
that Manuel had happily cooked for them, Chase was considering taking each of
the sisters over his knee. They had picked at each other during the entire ride
from town. Nobody had said anything outright disagreeable, but there had been
plenty of implications. He’d had to sit between them and that had been damn
uncomfortable after a while. Tyler had ridden in the back and he’d wished he’d
done the same.

Pissy looks were still passing between them. Tyler
appeared ready to flee as soon as he finished eating. Normally it took a lot to
rile him, but Chase decided he’d had enough.

“Tyler, take your plate and go on down to the corral.
Check on Whiskey’s critters, like you’ve been wanting to.”

He shifted his gaze to the sisters. “I need a word in
private with Whiskey and Brandy.”

Relieved, Tyler was out the door in a flash. Both women
looked at him unsurely, surprised by the firm tone in his voice.

Whiskey started to open her mouth but slammed it shut
at his glower. The second he heard Tyler’s feet go racing down the steps and he
was out of ear shot, Chase said, “I’m real close to burning your butts. Both of
you.”

Whiskey’s eyes widened and she ground her teeth, but
she didn’t sass back. She squirmed in her chair and he had a sudden feeling
that his brother had taken his hand to her bottom a time or two. She was
irritated but not willing to press the matter. Wise decision.

Brandy’s nostrils flared, fury sparked in her eyes.
“You wouldn’t dare!” she hissed.

“Darlin’, I dare a lot. Spanking a woman’s butt for
acting snippy and downright annoying is certainly something I’d dare.” Their gazes
locked, neither willing to back down.

“Leave her alone,” Whiskey snapped, surprising him and
earning a conspiratorial look from her sister.

Brandy sat up primly. “You are
not
, as you so crudely put it, ‘burning our butts.’”

“Time will tell.” He couldn’t believe the gumption she
had, but he calmed a bit. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it
needs to stop. Either of you have some particular gripe with your
sister,
you need to spit it out. Clear the air.”

They turned on him. “Stay out of it!” they said as
one. Then they smiled at each other with a look of approval.

He shoved back his chair and reached for his plate.
“Believe I’ll join Tyler outside.”

Left alone neither of the sisters seemed to know what
to say. Finally Whiskey stood and said, “I’d better go make peace with Chase
and Tyler. I don’t want that boy upset. He’s been through enough.”

Brandy gave her an apologetic smile. “Maybe we can
start over tomorrow. I’m worn out from travelling and not in the best of moods,
obviously.”

She stood as well and went to give Whiskey a brief
hug. “I’ve missed you, believe it or not.”

Suddenly she felt foolish. “You just look so perfectly
feminine, as always. I… Well, I…”

“I’m
not
perfect, Whiskey. I never have been as
perfect
as you and our brothers seem to think. Only our father sees me for who I really
am.”

She held her arms a second and slowly smiled, mischief
danced in her eyes. “Believe me, he gets every bit as frustrated with me at
times as he does with you. Especially this last year.”

They heard the sound of horses riding into the yard,
men calling out to one another. Whiskey was torn between wanting to question
her sister about what she’d meant and needing to go see Morgan, certain he was
one of the returning men. Her heart was pounding.

Brandy nudged her toward the back door. “What are you
waiting for? We can talk later.”

It took her less than a second to hurry outside. Then
she spotted Morgan still sitting tall in the saddle, frozen, staring down at
his son standing nearly skin-to-skin with Chase. Tyler’s expression made his
discomfort with his father clear. He looked both terrified and in awe. But he
definitely wasn’t running to Morgan for a welcoming hug. She didn’t have to see
his expression to know his frustration, to feel his hurt.

She walked down the back steps and steadily toward
Morgan. The closer she got, the more she inhaled his familiar scent: leather,
sweat, man. She wanted him to hold her, to kiss her. But she remembered how
he’d hurt her with his words before leaving. She was torn.

She forced those emotions aside and concentrated on
the moment. “Did you catch your man?” she asked to break up the awkwardness.

Taos shook his head and dismounted. “We nearly had
him. We trailed him all the way to Fort
Larned
.”

Morgan glanced down at her. His gaze moved over her
with such warmth that she trembled. It was almost as if he’d touched her. “Fool
got into a gun fight before we got to the fort. Didn’t win it. Damn waste of
our time.”

He eased out of the saddle, never looking away from
her. “Have you been
behavin
’ yourself?”

Chase snorted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry.
We’ve had a rather… interesting day. Brandy arrived, unexpectedly I take it.”
He shook his head thoughtfully. “Can’t say that the sisters have been getting
along all that well.”

Taos looked toward the house. “Brandy is here?” He
appeared torn between needing to take care of his horse and wanting to go see
his other sister.

Chase took the reins from his hand. “Tyler and I can
take care of the horses.
You all head on up to the house.
There’s probably still some beans and cornbread,
if’n
you’re hungry.”

Taos headed quickly for the house. “Thanks.”

Hesitantly, Tyler reached for the reins to his
father’s horse. She could see that Morgan wanted to hug his son, but couldn’t
seem to do it. Instead he said, “Good to see you, boy.”

Tyler gave a nod and hurried away with Demon in tow.

“Give him time,” Chase said quietly. “He’s been
through a lot.” He hesitated, holding Morgan’s gaze. “The judge is dead.”

Morgan watched his son walk away and his shoulders
sagged. “Rafe?”

“Think so, but no one knows for sure.” Chase turned to
follow Tyler. “We’ll talk later.”

Rafe again. Whiskey really wanted—intended—to
know more about this “Rafe” person, but a look at Morgan’s troubled face told
her this wasn’t the time to press him about it. He looked so weary, so
strained. He needed someone. She reluctantly decided that someone was
her
.

Nerves fluttered within her as she moved right up to
him. She reached a shaky hand up to cup his beard-roughened cheek. “I never
thought I’d be saying this, but I’m glad you’re back.”

He blinked in surprise and then drew her into his
embrace. He held her for several long minutes, not saying a word. Finally she
started to feel a bulge growing between their closely pressed bodies. Her lower
body was trembling, heating. She wanted him, too, with a powerful need that
frightened her.

In the next instant he set her away from him. His eyes
had darkened; his nostrils flared. “What’s this I hear about you and your
sister not getting along?” He glanced down. “Is there some attitude that I need
to deal with?”

“What is with you Rydell men wanting to burn a woman’s
bottom?” she snapped and shot a glower toward the barn where Chase had
disappeared.

“My brother threatened to spank you?” he asked, a
frown creasing his brow.

“Spank both of us, Brandy and me,” she admitted and
immediately wished she hadn’t. “There was no call for the threat. My sister and
I just need some time to adjust to each other. Warming our bottoms won’t make
any difference about that.”

Her buttocks clenched. She could sense him weighing
whether he wanted to turn her over his knee. She hated being spanked, but
understood it more when she’d actually done something to deserve it. This was
not a spanking instance. This was personal between her and Brandy. She would
not allow it.

To her surprise, he said, “I agree, this time.” He
looked toward the house. “Let’s go see if there’s any beans and cornbread left.
I’m starving.”

She blew out a breath of relief and turned around.

He stopped her from walking off with a hand on her
shoulder. “
If’n
you didn’t get that dress fitted,
Angelina, I
will
be warming your
backside.”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see because I’m not
telling you.” She didn’t know why she didn’t tell him she had
done
as he’d demanded. Just to annoy him maybe. Not that she
intended to ever wear the dress.

He smacked her bottom and earned a yelp. “Glad you
chose to obey me on that. Or we’d be riding into town tomorrow to get it done.”
He gave her a knowing look when she frowned at him. “You’d be having a right
hard time sitting, too.”

She rolled her eyes and stormed to the house. “I still
haven’t
agreed to marry you, Marshal
Rydell.” She walked a little faster, determined not to feel the hard swat of
his hand on her bottom again.