A Man to Call My Own Read online

  That was after Amanda insisted that she could drive the stagecoach to get them out of there. Having had a look at the room in the hotel where they were going to have to stay, and finding it to be the worst lodgings they had encountered yet, Amanda had been absolutely determined to get out of that town immediately, or at least, before they had to sleep in that horrid room.

  Marian didn’t care for their lodgings either. The sheets on the single bed had holes in them and might have been white once, but were a moldy gray now. There was a round hole in one wall as if someone had sent his fist through it. The rug on the floor was a breeding nest for fleas since an old dog had been living in the room. You could stand there and watch the fleas bouncing around on the rug, waiting for their host to come take his daily nap. And there was no telling what the splotches on the floor had come from.

  But no matter how much they hated the idea of staying there, Amanda’s alternate plan wasn’t worth considering even if she could have gotten the stage to move. She couldn’t. She did frustrate herself trying though.

  Marian and Ella Mae simply stood on the porch of the hotel and watched. They weren’t about to get in that coach with Know-It-All driving it. The few townsfolk had a good laugh watching, too, before they went back into their respective buildings. And Marian and Ella Mae spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning their room so it would be at least somewhat tolerable to sleep in.

  They were stranded indeed, and had no idea for how long. No telegraph available there, no stage line, no extra saddles to be had in case they considered riding out on the extra horses, no carriage to rent that they could have handled, and no guide to lead them back toward the railroad anyway.

  Amanda, of course, complained about their new circumstances from morning till night. Mentioning that it was exactly such complaining that had gotten them stranded in the first place was pointless. And although Amanda made it sound as if they were never going to see civilization again, Marian was more optimistic, especially after the baker remarked that stagecoaches were too valuable simply to abandon, and someone would come looking for the vehicle to get it back in service.

  Marian didn’t doubt that their aunt would be looking for them, too, or have someone looking for them. She was probably going to be furious with them for setting out on their own and causing her extra difficulties in finding them. Not a good way to start out with this relative neither of them knew, who was now their guardian.

  Chapter 5

  FOUR DAYS HAD COME and gone in that dismal, soon-to-be ghost town. With only a few old-timers about, or at least, no men that Amanda could possibly get jealous over if they happened to pay Marian any attention, Marian became lax in keeping her spectacles shoved up the bridge of her nose. It was a luxury being able to see clearly all of the time, rather than only when she peered over the rims of the spectacles, or removed them.

  She had been wearing spectacles she didn’t need for about three years. The idea had come to her when she’d found a pair and curiously tried them on. She’d caught her reflection, and the change in her appearance was so dramatic, she’d gone home that day to complain of vision problems and headaches and as a result had been told absently by her father to take care of it. She did, and had her own pair of spectacles a month later, as well as a few spare pairs.

  She’d been very proud of that idea. She’d already been trying to change her appearance from her sister’s, so they would no longer resemble each other even a little. She wore her hair in a completely different style. Amanda had already started using some makeup back then. Marian still didn’t use any. Amanda preferred clothes in the height of style, yet still somewhat flashy. Marian went with stylish, but toned-down clothes in less becoming colors.

  That still hadn’t been enough, though, to make her “unnoticeable,” which was the goal she’d been shooting for. Until her next bright idea. The result was a pair of spectacles that when in proper position magnified the size of her eyes, giving her an owlish, unbecoming look. Of course she couldn’t see a thing through them, everything being a blur, which caused her to seem quite accident-prone. And people naturally tended to stay clear of people who bumped into things on a regular basis.

  Now, the three dogs in town gave warning that someone was approaching. The barking was far off in the distance though, and since those dogs seemed to bark at nothing and each other on a regular basis, Marian didn’t really pay attention. She was reading an old newspaper she’d found on the porch of the hotel, only because it was a blistering hot day and there was a slight breeze coming down the main, or rather, only street.

  She did take notice, however, when each of the townsfolk came out of their respective buildings and started staring toward the entrance of the town. They apparently could tell the difference in the sound of the barking, to know that the animals weren’t just making noise because they could, but had found something of real interest.

  Amanda was napping in the stagecoach in the middle of the street. She’d actually worn herself out with her complaining, though the exceptional heat of the last few days had probably helped. And she’d gotten so badly bitten by the fleas in their room that she’d taken to sleeping in the coach each night and napping there in the hottest part of each day.

  The barking didn’t awaken Amanda, but the first words spoken nearby did. The baker wasn’t baking today and had come out on the hotel porch to stand next to Marian. Both of them were shading their eyes to get a better look at the stranger riding down the street.

  He rode a very fine-looking animal, the kind rich men back home would sell for horse racing. Golden in color, with a pure white mane and tail, he was a large, sleek stallion, a good-sized horse for a man on the tall side. As for the man himself, his wide-brimmed Western hat shaded too much of his face for anyone to tell what he looked like yet, other than that he had a wide chest and shoulders under a faded blue shirt, black pants and vest, and a dark blue neckerchief or bandana as they were called in these parts, an item that seemed to serve all kinds of purposes on the range.

  “Just a cowboy,” the baker, Ed Harding remarked next to Marian. “Doesn’t have the look of a gun-fighter.”

  “He’s wearing guns,” Marian pointed out, her eyes still on the stranger.

  “Everyone wears guns out here, Missy.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I’m not everyone.”

  These old-timers tended to say a lot of strange things like that, Marian observed. They were a wealth of interesting information though, about the West, and she enjoyed talking with them when they weren’t busy.

  The dogs continued to bark and follow the stranger into town. They bothered the horse not at all. The man glanced at them occasionally, but otherwise seemed to ignore them, too. He stopped when he reached the stagecoach, still parked in the middle of the street. He tipped his hat toward Marian, a mere matter of courtesy, before he set it back on his head and stared at Ed Harding.

  “I’m looking for the Laton girls. And this looks to be the stage they were last known to be traveling on.

  “You got that right, Mister,” Ed replied. “You from the stage line?”

  “No, from their aunt, here to fetch them to her,”

  “And about damn time,” Amanda was heard from, and in one of her more disagreeable tones as she pushed open the door to the coach and climbed down to the street.

  The man lowered his hat to tip it in Amanda’s direction, then with one finger pushed it back behind his forehead again. “Have the girls been a nuisance, ma’am?” he asked her in reference to her remark.

  She stared at him as if he were daft. Marian was too busy staring agape at him as well, but not over what he’d said. That hadn’t even registered yet. No, from the moment he’d raised his hat so his face became fully visible, she’d been arrested by a set of very handsome features.

  Lean, smooth-shaven cheeks, square jaw, a straight nose over a mustache kept neatly trimmed. He had the same two-toned shade of skin on his forehead that most of these Westerners see
med to have as a result of working under the hot sun with their hats on. His tan line was barely discernible actually, though he was nicely bronzed, suggesting he didn’t always wear the hat—or kept it pushed back a lot, like he had it now.

  His hair was darkest black, though speckled with trail dust at the moment. Not too long, his hair fell just an inch or so below his nape. Marian guessed he might usually wear it slicked back as many men did, but presently it was parted, a curly lock leaning toward each temple. Thick black brows arched over pure gray eyes the shade of summer rain clouds, with no tinge of blue in them.

  It was a good thing that her overall appearance was so very unremarkable, because for once, Marian completely forgot to shove her spectacles back up her nose. But the man hadn’t spared her more than a fleeting glance before speaking to Mr. Harding, and now, his gaze, typically, remained on Amanda.

  Even wilted by the heat, with sweat running down her temples, soaked into the cloth beneath her armpits, and some of her flyaway bangs matted from it, Amanda was still flamboyantly lovely. It wasn’t surprising he was still staring at her, even if she hadn’t answered his question yet, and he could simply be waiting on that answer.

  When Marian realized that she was staring, she did three things in quick order. Got her spectacles

  back in their camouflaging position, made sure her hair was still severely drawn back, and started

  fanning herself with the old newspaper she had in hand.

  She was going to wait for Amanda to recover and do the talking, another thing she was used to doing, to keep attention off herself. But Amanda, having just woken from her nap, was still slightly disoriented and giving no indication that she would.

  The continued silence, aside from the yapping dogs, was getting ridiculous, so Marian finally said, albeit hesitantly, “I have the feeling you were expecting younger—children perhaps?”

  He was quick, he didn’t ask what she meant, just said, “Well, hell,” as he glanced her way, then back toward Amanda again.

  For the first time, Marian actually felt annoyed, to be so totally ignored. Which was crazy. She strived so hard to achieve that very result. And it would serve absolutely no good purpose to gain his attention. In fact, doing so would be detrimental to this man’s peace of mind as well as hers.

  So it was a good thing, at least to Marian’s way of thinking, that Amanda finally collected her scattered thoughts, and asked, “Who are you?”

  “Chad Kinkaid. For the time being, I work for your aunt.”

  There was no quicker way to get dismissed from Amanda’s mind as a male worthy of her attention

  than to mention you were a mere employee—of any sort. Amanda didn’t waste her time on anyone

  who wasn’t richer than she was.

  Without giving him another look, she crossed the narrow strip of dirt road between the stage and the hotel to reach the shade on the porch. Chad Kinkaid was in the process of dismounting. Amanda’s belligerent employer-to-employee tone of voice stopped him.

  “There are a total of seven trunks that need to be reloaded on the stage. Do get started, so we can depart this sorry excuse for a town immediately.”

  He sat back in the saddle, glanced at the stagecoach again. “You expect to travel in that?”

  “I repeat, seven large trunks, Kinkaid, and not a single vehicle in this town able to transport

  them other than this stage.”

  “Then they get left behind.”

  A gasp. “Absolutely not!”

  He and Amanda stared, or rather, glared at each other for a moment, a brief battle of wills. He ended up sighing, probably figuring it wasn’t worth the effort to argue the point.

  Marian thought it prudent to ask, “You do know how to drive this stage, don’t you?”

  “No, ma’am, but I reckon I can figure it out. Where are the horses? The stable looked boarded up and empty as I passed it.”

  “Indeed, like many other buildings here, it was abandoned long ago,” she informed him. “So the animals were set loose in the field behind town.”

  A moment later, the gunshot startled them all, well, all of them except Chad Kinkaid, who fired it. The dogs that had followed him in had still been barking around his horse’s feet. The shot hit the dirt near them and sent them hightailing it elsewhere.

  Amanda had squealed in surprise, one hand had flown to her chest and was still there. “Was that really necessary?” she asked derisively.

  Chad Kinkaid pulled his hat back down over his forehead, gathered his reins in preparation of riding off, and with a lazy smile, said, “No, ma’am. It was a pleasure though.”

  Chapter 6

  INSUFFERABLE LOUT,” AMANDA MUMBLED before she went inside to repack the few things she had unpacked.

  Chad Kinkaid had ridden off, but, apparently, Amanda didn’t think that he would abandon them there as their driver had done. That would never occur to someone as self-centered as Amanda.

  Marian wasn’t nearly as positive of that and quickly walked around the hotel to the back of it to make sure he was just going to collect the stage horses. She gave a sigh of relief a few moments later when he rode out from between two of the buildings farther down the street and into the field where the horses were grazing. All five of them were still there, too, though widely scattered.

  She watched for a few minutes as he started to gather them together. One gave him trouble, didn’t want to be put back to work. He removed a looped length of rope hooked to the back of his saddle, started twirling it in the air above his head, then let it fly toward the horse. The loop at the end landed perfectly over the horse’s head and tightened with a yank before he could shake it off.

  Marian had heard about lassoing, but she’d never had an opportunity to witness it before. The baker had apparently called it right. Chad Kinkaid was a man who knew how to work with cattle and horses. A cowboy, and the first one she’d actually met since arriving in Texas. He undoubtedly knew the area and would be a perfect escort. If only he weren’t so handsome as well...

  Like most handsome men, he’d probably try to woo Amanda. They all did. If they thought they had the least chance with her, they made the effort. She was just too pretty for them not to try. A few of those she had kept dangling over the years, whom she actually encouraged, didn’t even know what a shrew she was. If she wanted them to keep coming around, she showed them only her best side. She was very good at deceiving men.

  Chad Kinkaid wouldn’t stand a chance though. He just didn’t fall into the handsome and rich category that was mandatory for Amanda. Marian hoped that after her sister calmed down some, she wouldn’t decide that Chad would make an amusing diversion. If she turned on the charm for him, he was bound to fall in love with her, and that would be really too bad for him.

  It wasn’t likely, though, that Amanda would calm down, at least not until she was on her way home to Haverhill. She was going to be her nasty self until then, and everyone around her was going to feel the sting of her displeasure because she simply couldn’t stand for anyone not to be miserable when she was miserable herself.

  Amanda really did hate this trip and the reason for it. Having to live with their new guardian and abide by her dictates already had her hating their aunt, and she didn’t even know her yet.

  Neither of them had anything but a vague memory of her, Kathleen had left home when they were so young. What Amanda hated most was that she couldn’t marry whom she wanted to, that she’d have to have Kathleen’s permission first. Their father would have let her have her choice, no matter whom she chose, because he’d always given her anything she wanted.

  Their aunt wasn’t likely to be that generous, would take her duty seriously just because it was a new and unexpected duty. At least, Marian would look at it that way, so she took it for granted that Kathleen would, too.

  But hopefully Chad would see Amanda for what she was and not be intrigued by what he might think were merely the rantings of a spoiled brat. Still, Marian would have
to take her usual precautions and discourage him as well. Because much much worse could happen if for some strange reason he turned his interest in her direction instead.

  She went back into the hotel to pack. She found Ed Harding before going upstairs and asked him to let Kinkaid know that there were only five horses to collect, so he wouldn’t waste his time looking for the sixth. She’d thought briefly about telling him herself, but decided the less contact she had with him the better.

  She didn’t have much to pack, none of them did. There had been no bureau or closet anyway, so they’d been mostly just living out of their trunks. Two were Marian’s, one was Ella Mae’s, the other four were Amanda’s. She had been loath to leave any of her personal valuables and trinkets behind, even though their home in Haverhill hadn’t been closed down, but left with a caretaker to guard against theft.

  They were finished and waiting on the porch again before the five horses were hitched to the stage. At least she and Ella Mae were. It was actually a good opportunity to get Chad Kinkaid annoyed enough with her to dismiss her completely from his mind.

  He was fiddling with the harness on the lead horse when she approached him, and asked, “Do you have proof that our aunt sent you to escort us?”

  He glanced sideways at her, but then put his attention back on the horse. “I mentioned your aunt, you didn’t,” he pointed out, his tone indifferent.

  “Well, yes, you did, but everyone in this town knows that we recently lost our father and are traveling to live with our aunt.”

  That got his eyes on her again with a narrowed frown. “I’ve never set foot in this town before.”

  “So you say, but—”

  “Are you accusing me of sneaking into town in the last day or so, hearing your tale that ‘everyone’

  knows about, and cooking up a plan to abscond with you and your sister?”

  Put that way, it sounded really horrible. He’d have to be the worst sort of person to cook up such a plan. She winced mentally. She should nod in agreement. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t need to. He was already furious with her.