Angel Creek (6 page)

The moment of crisis was so predictable that Olivia smiled with gentle amusement even as she asked, “Is something wrong?”

“I completely forgot to arrange with Beatrice Padgett for us to use her punch set! I can't believe it slipped my mind like that.”

“I'm sure she takes it for granted that her punch set will be needed,” Olivia comforted. “After all, she's the only person in town who owns over three hundred punch cups.”

“Still, it would be terribly rude not to
ask
her, just to
assume
that her possessions are available for our use. I'll write her a note right now,” Honora said, putting the hoop aside and rising to cross to her writing desk. “Do you have a moment to spare to take it to her, dear? I simply have too much to do this afternoon, though I'd love to visit with Beatrice, but you know how she talks. It's practically impossible to get away from her once she gets started.”

“Of course,” Olivia said, gladly putting her own embroidery hoop aside. She was very good at needlework, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it. “I think I'll go for a ride while I'm out.” She wanted to be alone for a while; maybe a brisk ride would banish her melancholy, which lingered as a hollow feeling deep inside despite her efforts to push it away. Or maybe she would visit Dee. As soon as she had the thought she realized that was exactly what she needed. Dee's implacable logic always went straight to the heart of a matter, and she always said exactly what she thought. Olivia needed that kind of clear thinking right now.

She went upstairs to change into her riding habit while Honora set about writing. By the time she came back down the stairs Honora was folding the note.

“There,” she said, tucking the paper into Olivia's pocket. “Take your time, dear, and do tell Beatrice
that I'm sorry I couldn't come myself, but I promise to visit her soon to go over all the plans for the social.”

The Millicans kept their two horses in the livery, so Olivia walked first to the Padgett house, which took only five minutes. But it was the truth that Beatrice Padgett liked to talk, and it was over an hour before Olivia was able to leave. Beatrice insisted that she come in for tea to the point that continued refusal would have been embarrassing, so Olivia found herself once again sitting and listening, with nothing more required of her than an occasional nod or comment.

It was an enjoyable hour, though, because Beatrice was a genuinely likable woman, friendly and without malice. Olivia had often thought that Beatrice and Ezekiel Padgett were something of a mismatch. Beatrice, in her late forties, still retained enough beauty for one to see that she had once been quite something. She was a warm woman given to hugs and pats, freely affectionate and exuding a soft, rather voluptuous sensuality. Ezekiel, on the other hand, was tall and dour, seldom smiling, his face too rawboned for handsomeness. Olivia had wondered how they could live together in any sort of harmony, though she had once seen Ezekiel look down at his wife's face when he thought them unobserved, and his expression had softened almost to tenderness.

So love did grow even in unlikely marriages, perhaps had been there from the beginning, at least on Beatrice's part, for why else would such an affectionate woman have married such a dour man? It was plain to anyone why Ezekiel would have married
Beatrice, even without love, so Olivia didn't consider that.

Perhaps she was foolish to worry about marrying Lucas. Maybe they would grow to love each other as much as Beatrice and Ezekiel did, as much as her own parents did.

But no matter how she tried, she simply couldn't imagine such a look on Lucas's face as she had seen on Ezekiel's.

Dee looked out the window when she heard someone riding up and smiled when she saw it was Olivia. It had been too long since they'd had a chance to chat, but now that the weather was better Olivia would come to visit more often. She poured two cups of coffee and walked out on the porch to greet her friend.

Olivia dismounted and took the coffee with a smile of thanks as they sat down on the porch. “I thought winter was never going to end,” she sighed. “I've wanted to come out several times, but the weather never cooperated.”

“From what I heard in Winches's store, Lucas Cochran's courting you.”

That was Dee, going right to the point. Olivia's tension eased a little. It was a relief to talk to Dee because there were no social inanities with her, no need for a polite social mask or worry that Dee might be shocked at anything she said. Not that she was likely to say anything shocking, Olivia admitted ruefully to herself. It was just that it was nice to know one
could.

“It seems so,” she said.

“Seems? He either is or he isn't.”

“Well, he hasn't actually said anything. It's just that he's paid attention to me.”

“Enough attention for people to start talking about a wedding?”

“Yes,” Olivia admitted, unable to hide the misery in her eyes.

“Do you love him?”

“No.”

“Then don't marry him,” Dee said with a finality that suggested the matter was closed.

“But what if he's my last chance?” Olivia asked softly.

“For what?”

“To get married.”

Dee sipped her coffee. “Do you really think you'll never meet anyone else?”

“It isn't that. It's just that no one has ever fallen in love with me, and maybe no one ever will. If I can't have love, I'd still like to have a family. He truly may be my last chance.”

“Well, I'm probably not the best person to come to for advice,” Dee said, and she chuckled. “After all, I've already turned down three men. He came out here the other day, by the way. Cochran, that is. He wanted to buy Angel Creek.”

The thought of that was interesting. Lucas was accustomed to having things his way. Olivia could just imagine what he'd thought when he'd met Dee, who could be as intractable as a rock wall when she chose.

“What did you think of him?”

Dee grinned. “That he'd make a dangerous enemy.
And that no one tells him ‘no' very often. He doesn't take it well.”

“And you enjoyed telling him.”

“Of course I did.” Mischief gleamed in her green eyes as she glanced at Olivia. “He could use taking down a peg or two.”

“I don't think he'll give up,” Olivia warned.

“No, he won't.”

Dee looked as if she positively relished the thought of thwarting Lucas, and not for the first time Olivia wished she could be more like her friend. Dee wasn't intimidated by Lucas, or by anyone. There was a kind of inner strength to her, a surety that most people didn't have. Olivia didn't feel certain of anything, with her longing to have a family at odds with her fear of marrying someone she didn't love. She couldn't imagine Dee ever feeling that kind of uncertainty. Dee would simply make up her mind one way or the other, and that would be that.

“I think Lucas would ride roughshod over me if I married him,” Olivia said, and she bit her lip.

Dee thought about it, then nodded. “Probably.”

That blunt assessment startled Olivia into a spurt of laughter. “You didn't have to agree!”

“Oh, you aren't weak,” Dee explained, smiling a little. “It's just that you're too gentle to fight him when he needs to be fought. But cheer up. Maybe you'll meet someone in San Francisco you really want to marry.”

“Mother's canceled the trip. She didn't think it would be smart to leave Lucas for such a long time while he's showing so much interest. Of course, Lucas
may not have any plans to marry at all, and I could be worrying over nothing.” The thought popped into her head that Dee would make Lucas a much better wife than she herself would, and she almost blurted it out but stopped herself in time. Dee would look at her as if she were crazy if she said such a thing.

But it was true. In both temperament and character Dee was a fair match for Lucas; both of them were so strong that they would completely overshadow anyone who wasn't just as strong. The only thing was, Dee wasn't the least interested in getting married.

Nevertheless, the idea lingered.

On the way home Olivia detoured by the bank to tell her father hello. Just as she stepped up on the sidewalk the door to the bank opened, and Kyle Bellamy came out, flanked by two of his men. He removed his hat as soon as he saw her.

“Miss Millican, how are you today?”

“Fine, thank you, Mr. Bellamy. And you?”

“Couldn't be better.” He looked down at her, giving her his self-confident smile. No doubt about it, Kyle Bellamy was a good-looking man, and he knew it. His dark hair was thick and curly, his eyes light brown beneath black brows, his smile white and straight. Moreover, he was tall and muscular, and his ranch, though nowhere near the size of the Double C, was prosperous and growing. For all that, something about the man made her uneasy.

He made no move to continue on his way, and Olivia's innate good manners came to the fore. “I hope you're making plans to attend the spring social. It won't be long,” she said.

“I wouldn't miss it.” He gave her his white, wolfish grin. “Especially if you're going to be there.”

“Just about everyone in town will be there,” Olivia replied, neatly sidestepping his comment, which was personal enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

“I'll look forward to claiming a dance with you.” He tipped his hat again and stepped past her, followed by both of his men.

As the second hired hand passed he, too, tipped his hat, surprising Olivia into darting a quick look at his face. She had only a fast impression of black hair, darkly tanned skin, and black eyes warm with admiration before he was past her, but the impact was strong enough to freeze her in her tracks, a little stunned.

Surely she had mistaken his expression. After all, her glance had been so quick. No, surely the man hadn't looked at her with
tenderness,
the way Ezekiel looked at Beatrice. How could he, when he didn't even know her? But the fact remained that his look, imagined or not, had made her heart beat a little faster and her skin feel a little warm.

She entered the bank, smiling politely and returning the greetings of those who spoke to her on her way into her father's office. Wilson Millican rose on her entrance, beaming his welcome. “Your mother's had you running another errand, at a guess,” he said, and he laughed as their gazes met in perfect understanding. “She's enjoying this as much as if she were sixteen again and this was her first party.”

“She'll swear she never wants to be involved in the planning again, but by the time next February rolls around she'll be fretting to get started.”

They chatted for a few minutes, with Olivia telling
him about her visit with Beatrice. She didn't want to take up too much of his time, so she kept her visit short. She was rising to her feet when her curiosity got the better of her, and she said, “I stopped outside to talk with Mr. Bellamy for a few moments. Who were those two men with him?”

“Two of his cowhands, Pierce and Fronteras, though from the looks of them I'd say they were handier with a pistol than a rope.”

“Gunmen?” she asked, startled. “Why would he need gunmen?”

“Now, I didn't say they were gunmen. I said they looked like they'd be handy with their pistols, and maybe they are, but then a good many men around here are good hands with a firearm. As far as I know, Bellamy's cowhands are just that, cowhands.” He patted her arm in reassurance, though he wasn't too certain of his own words, especially when they concerned the two men that had been with Bellamy. One thing was certain, though, and that was that he wouldn't want either of those two men anywhere near Olivia. She was too fine a person to associate with that type of man. None of the ranch hands caused any trouble in town other than the normal drinking and fighting sometimes, but as a father he couldn't be too careful of his daughter's well-being.

“Which one was which?” Olivia asked, still driven by her curiosity.

“What?”

“Which man was Pierce, and which was Fronteras?”

“Pierce has been with Bellamy for a couple of years now. He's a quiet man, never says much. The dark,
Mexican-looking man is Fronteras. Guess he is Mexican at that, though he's tall for one. Must be mostly Spanish.”

He was a Mexican. She felt a little surprised at herself for not having realized that at a glance, though he
was
tall, as her father had noted. Then she was even more surprised by her own curiosity about a man whom she had never even met, because passing on the sidewalk certainly didn't constitute an introduction. It wasn't her usual behavior, but then she was upset by her increasing sensation of being caught in a trap. She didn't know what she could do to escape, or even if she wanted to escape. All she knew was that she felt on the verge of panic.

“A man could do worse than marrying a banker's daughter,” Kyle Bellamy mused. “Especially one who looks like Olivia Millican.”

Pierce grunted in reply. Luis Fronteras didn't say anything.

“She's his only child. When he dies she'll get everything. Or rather her husband will.”

“I heard Cochran was courting her,” Fronteras murmured.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders. “That doesn't mean I can't pay attention to the lady, too.”

He sipped his whiskey, thinking about Olivia Millican. Why not? He had as much chance with her as anyone else, maybe more. Women had always seemed to like him. He liked a bit more spunk in his women than Olivia seemed to have, but she was pretty and rich, and in Kyle's experience money made up for a lot of shortcomings. He was doing all right with
money right now, but he had learned the hard way not to count on everything staying all right. Having Wilson Millican's money would make his life a whole lot more comfortable. He'd start his own courting of Olivia and give Cochran something to think about.