Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 (19 page)

Her heart shrank. Silently she screamed at herself,
You fool! You dared think he was leading up to saying he loved you! That he would marry you! But all he offers is friendship! Just who did you think you were?

A coldness enveloped her, and in a tight voice she challenged, “Then why should I leave here? Candy is my aunt, you know. She’s all the family I’ve got. You can come and visit me. I’ll be fine here.”

She started off the bed, but he pinned her, looming over her. How intense he looked, almost angry.

“I don’t want you here. This is a whorehouse, or have you forgotten?”

“It happens to be my home,” she countered, “or have
you
forgotten?”

She pulled out of his grasp, and he let her go. As she yanked on her robe, he gazed at her thoughtfully. “Were you expecting me to ask you to marry me, Becky?”

That infuriated her. “Of course not,” she lied. “You aren’t the marrying kind.”

“But you were a virgin,” he said, “and virgins expect a man to marry them.”

“Was Charlene a virgin?” she snapped. “Is that why she was so heartbroken when you refused to marry her?”

He shook his head, then fell back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling. Women. No matter how hard a man tried, he always wound up saying the wrong thing. “Maybe I’d best be moving on, Becky. It’s time I went home.”

She turned away so he couldn’t see her face. “Yes,
I think so, too. Aunt Candy was complaining just this morning about you hanging around here for so long. She says you’ve run up quite a bill, with the whiskey you’ve been guzzling and all. I told her you’d be good for it. I hope that’s true.”

Colt could hardly believe what he was hearing. For the first time, Becky wasn’t the sweet, angelic girl he’d grown so fond of. She sounded hard and bitter. What could have happened to her, and why had he never seen this side of her before?

While he wondered what to say, she flounced angrily from the room, slamming the door.

He got up and dressed quickly. It didn’t take him long to gather his things, because he didn’t have much. When he was ready, he left the room and went to find Candy. She was in the front parlor, arranging a vase of her beloved feathers.

“I’m leaving,” he said curtly. “Thank you for allowing me to stay here. I’ll send you what I owe if you give me a bill.”

She didn’t look up. “Five hundred should cover it.”

Colt thought that was outrageous, but he said nothing. He turned toward the foyer, then felt compelled to say, “Take good care of Becky. I’ll be checking on her from time to time.”

Candy’s back was turned, and she said nothing.

Colt’s mind was whirling as he made his way down the street, oblivious to the heat and the dust. Damn, he wished he possessed a little patience. He supposed he was like his father in that way. He simply hated to argue. He believed in stating his position, and if someone wasn’t in agreement, he felt it best to just run away rather than argue. But he should have argued with Becky, tried to find a way to make her understand—just as, if he’d made Charlene understand, maybe she would still be alive.

He paused twice on the way to the livery stable, and almost went back to talk to Becky. He didn’t want t leave like this. But what was there left to say? True, he was very fond of her. Maybe one day, given enough time, that fondness might grow into love, but he was not going to make her any promises unless he was sure he could keep them. No, he would just go on home. He had been away too long as it was, and plenty of work was waiting.

He had no money on him and told the stable hand he would send some when he paid his bill at Miss Candy’s. The boy nodded. He, like everyone else in Golconda, knew who Colt was.

Colt saddled his horse, then led him out into the sunlight. It was a long ride to Silver Butte, and Colt had no provisions, so he found the general store and went in.

He purchased hardtack and a small slab of bacon. “You know who I am?” he inquired of the bald proprietor.

The man nodded. “Yep. Coltrane. Headin’ back to Silver Butte?”

Colt nodded, then explained about needing credit.

“No problem. When you pay Miss Candy, just send mine along. She’ll see that I get it.” He flashed a snaggle-toothed grin. “Happens all the time around here. Men run up bills at her place, then have to send the money. But they always pay. Miss Candy’s a special friend of the marshal, and he always sees she gets her money.”

“She’ll get her money,” Colt said. He could have told the man that his bill at Candy’s was for room and board, not “services”, but, as usual, he saw no reason to justify himself.

He picked up his purchases and strode out of the store, paying no attention to the man leaning against a post out front until the man called out to him. He turned.

“Going home, huh, Coltrane?”

Colt nodded, then continued on his way. The man spoke once more.

“Lotsa men around here will be glad to hear you’re movin’ on, bein’ as you been took up with everybody’s favorite over at Miz Candy’s.”

Colt turned around very slowly. The man’s eyes glittered with delight. Menacingly Colt growled, “You’re mistaken.”

The stranger shifted uneasily as Colt’s face darkened, and he struggled to keep from looking scared. “Naw, I ain’t. I hear ’em complainin’ in the saloon every night about how they can’t get in to see Bella ’cause you’ve got all her time bought up.”

“I don’t know anyone named Bella,” Colt threw at him, “and who I was with is no one’s business.”

He turned away.

The man hesitated a few seconds. He was scared; but he’d come this far without trouble, so… “Hey,” he called, nervousness making his voice crack. “Maybe you call her something besides Bella. Maybe you know Bella as Becky—Miz Candy’s niece.”

Colt took two steps to reach the stranger. He swung once, hard, and the last thing that went through the’ stranger’s mind before blackness closed around him was that the money Miss Candy had promised him had damn well better be worth all this.

Unaware of anything except his rage, Colt strode to his horse, mounted, and galloped out of Golconda as though the devil himself were on his heels, breathing fire.

Deep down, he knew the bastard had not been lying.

Becky. Bella.

Colt stared straight ahead as he rode, every muscle in his body tight.

A woman had had the best of him. He was a fool.

Briana sat in a tufted pink velvet chair before a lace-skirted dressing table. In the mirror she met Gavin’s angry stare, retaliating with an angry glare of her own.

“You ignorant little beggar,” he sneered. “Where would you be without me? You’d be groveling in the gutter by now, or lying on your back selling what you accuse Dirk Hollister of trying to take.”

Briana bolted from the chair and whirled to face him. “Dirk Hollister
did
try to rape me. I don’t care what lies he told you. The man is a monster, and I don’t want him here. Why are you protecting him?” She paused to take a ragged breath. “As for where
I’d
be right now, what about where
you
would be? You didn’t have a chance at getting Dani‘s share of the estate without me, so you needn’t act as though you’ve done me a favor, Gavin. I’d say it’s the other way around. Maybe you’d better start worrying about what
I
can say about
you.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. Then suddenly he leaped up and grabbed her, squeezing her throat. Her nails tore at him as she struggled frantically, but he only pressed harder. “You shut your mouth, you hear me? I’ve come too far to have you mess things up now. And if you try, so help me, I’ll kill you. And when I get back to France, I’ll see that crippled brother of yours dead.”

He shook her, saw that her eyes were bulging, but didn’t release her. “Don’t you say anything about Hollister to anybody. It’s important to me that he stay on here, and you will do as you are told. You will help plan your coming-out party. You will obey me. You will not rebel, or you will die.”

He released her so abruptly that she fell to the floor. He stood over her and whispered cruelly, “I can send word that your brother is once more on charity. He will be returned to that hospital, and they will let him die—slowly, of course.

“I can,” he continued, “turn you over to Hollister and let him have his way with you…after
I’m
through with you. I can make you wish you were dead. I can fix it so you never see your brother again. So heed me well, bitch. You are playing a dangerous game when you defy me.”

Feebly Briana got to her feet. The defiance shone in her cinnamon eyes like tiny red dots of fire. Her throat ached, and her head throbbed, but she would not cry, would not let him see her misery. She glared at him in icy silence.

Gavin smiled tightly. “Now then. Fetch me some brandy, and we’ll talk about my ideas for your party.”

When she returned, Gavin was sitting on the divan in the corner. He took the glass from her and motioned for her to sit next to him.

He smiled patronizingly and said, “My dear, it doesn’t have to be this way between us. Why, we can have a lovely friendship if you stop being so difficult. You needn’t worry about Hollister bothering you again, either,” he said, patting her reassuringly. “He’ll answer to me if he does.

“But,” he continued after pausing to sip his brandy, “let’s talk of pleasant things—your party.” He proceeded to tell her that Mrs. Bowden, despite still being in mourning, had graciously provided him with a list of people who should be invited. “She would like to be at the party, but of course, that is impossible. I would like you to visit her soon, Bri—Dani. She and her husband can be powerful allies for us. Besides that, you need to be seen in town more.”

Briana was bewildered and becoming exasperated. “But you finished the auditing, so why can’t we claim Dani’s share of the money and just go home?”

“You are truly trying my patience, my dear. We will leave when I say we will leave. Quite frankly, if we were not about to present you to society, I would teach you a lesson. If your insolence continues, I will do so. Do you understand me?”

She nodded, fury boiling. He was, she knew, quite capable of beating her.

He explained his plans for the ball, telling her which gown he wanted her to wear, how she was to behave, neglecting no detail. Everything must go smoothly, he warned her.

When he finally left her to return to Silver Butte, she dressed quickly in trousers and shirt, and ran to the stable.

She saddled Belle. No matter that Gavin had forbidden her to ride. He was gone, and the ranch hands were out on the range. No one would even notice, except the household servants, and they wouldn’t say anything.

She was smiling as she led Belle across the stable, toward the door and the brilliant gold-and-blue day. To be free, to feel the fresh, sweet wind caressing her face— The thought was sheerest ecstasy.

“Nice day for a ride, Miss Dani.”

Her skin prickled as Dirk Hollister stepped out of a stall and blocked her path.

He gave her an insolent grin and mockingly tipped his hat. “Yep. I’m real pleased you want to go ridin’. Told Mr. Mason just as he was leaving that I figured you’d want to. He said for me to oblige you. After all, we don’t want you falling off your horse like you did last time—now, do we?”

Trembling with rage, she stepped backward, holding on to Belle’s reins. “If you touch me, so help me, I’ll kill you, Dirk Hollister,” she said.

He laughed, delighted with himself. “Why, Miss Dani, I’d never harm you. The boss wouldn’t like it. Now, if you object to my riding with you, well, I think he’d like to know about that. He ain’t been gone so long that I can’t catch up with him and tell him how unfriendly you are.”

Furious with frustration and defeat, Briana turned around abruptly and led the mare back to her stall.

Gavin had triumphed.

Chapter Twelve

Briana was already so scared of being caught in the deception she and Gavin had created that the idea of giving a party for two hundred people was just one more terror in what had become a life of continuing terror.

She took a wry delight in being the hostess at a social gathering, since all her life she had been only a servant—unnoticed, deliberately unobtrusive. She had been trained to fade into the background, but now she would have to do the opposite: shine, be the center of attention, the object of everyone’s scrutiny.

Would she do something gauche? Say the wrong thing? Gavin had drilled her over and over, covering conversation manners, table manners, everything he could think of. If she made any slips, she knew he would be furious.

Gavin was becoming so dominating as to be unbearable. Not a day went by that he didn’t threaten horrors for Charles and misery for her if she failed to obey.

Dirk Hollister was equally obnoxious. Everywhere she went, every time she turned around, he was spying on her, taunting her. She was constantly being watched.

What hurt the most was the realization of how thoroughly she was now trapped. She had allowed herself to become ensnared by Gavin and his plans because she was desperate about Charles. There hadn’t been any other means of helping Charles than going along with Gavin’s plans. Now she was doubly trapped because she had already perpetrated the deception, had been pretending for weeks to be Dani Coltrane. Even
if
there was some other way to help Charles, she couldn’t back out now. It was too late. She was stuck. There was nothing she could do about it except continue to fall in with Gavin’s plans.