Oklahoma kiss (21 page)

      
Warren stared hard at her for a moment, then he threw his head back and guffawed. "I'll have to admit, girl, I like your salt. Maybe if you kids had stood up to me more in the past, I wouldn't be so ornery now. It's a damn shame you wasn't a boy. Why, we could have ..."

      
In spite of her indignation, a tiny grin played with the corner of her mouth. "Don't change the subject, Warren. Either you tell me the real reason behind all of this or else I will refuse."

      
"All right, I'll tell you." He sat back down on the bed and hitched up one pants leg. When he gazed at her again, his features were deadly serious. "I do want Adam to stay, and I have a reason, a damn good reason. It's Coy." His lips tightened in anger. "I'm sure you have heard him run his mouth about the vigilantes. I'm afraid he's joined them. Hell, he might be one of the ringleaders for all I know. I realize Adam doesn't have that much jurisdiction here, but if he stayed around until after the land is opened to the homesteaders, the presence of a deputy marshal might be intimidating enough to ward off any serious trouble. I figure the law will be moving in soon thereafter, then there won't be any reason to keep the vigilante group active."

      
Blair paced about the room. She would do anything to keep Coy out of trouble, although her first impulse was to throttle him for behaving so foolishly. But why did Warren act so mysterious and even . . . devious about asking Adam?

      
"Why not just explain to Adam what you’ve told me?"

      
Warren shook his head. "Knowing his feelings about the vigilantes, I hate to put him in that position, especially when he has no real authority here. He's my friend, Blair, and I hate like hell to use him this way . . . but I have to consider Coy, too." He shrugged dejectedly. "Maybe in the meantime we can talk some sense into his head . . . but I doubt it. That boy is as stubborn and headstrong as they come."

      
"I wonder why?" she muttered to herself.

      
"What did you say?"

      
Blair cleared her throat. "I said, what if Adam doesn't want me to be his guide? Have you ever considered that he might refuse?"

      
Smiling, Warren guided her over to the mirror. "Look at yourself, Blair." Their eyes locked in the mirror. "I see a beautiful young woman standing here. With those big, innocent green eyes, beautiful black hair, and the face of an angel —he won't refuse."

      
Mischief glinted from her eyes. "Are you suggesting that I use womanly wiles?" she taunted.

      
"No, nothing that drastic, but I am suggesting you act like a woman and behave like a lady. Nature will take care of the rest." He hugged her close to him. "Just remember though, I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't for Coy. So, what do you say?"

      
She blinked, realizing the enormity of what was happening. Who would have ever thought good- natured Coy would turn out to be the prodigal brother?

      
Blair drew away from him and walked slowly to the window. She would do anything for her brother, and if it had been for a different reason she would have been thrilled at the thought of being with Adam. But this seemed . . . almost dishonest. Even considering this seemed to be the only way to help Coy get out of the mess he was in, she had the strangest feeling that she was making a terrible mistake.

      
Sighing heavily, she spoke so softly, her words were barely discernable, "Under the circumstance, I can hardly refuse. But, Warren, let me handle it. Let me talk to Adam."

      
"Maybe that would be even better."

      
"It might help if you can persuade him to sit out on the porch after supper, so you'll need to tell Tillie to serve supper a little early. Also, if I say anything strange . . . just go along with me, all right?"

      
"What are you planning?"

      
She sighed heavily. "I'm not sure. I'll think of something though."

      
Nodding, he walked over to the door, paused and turned back. "Blair, there's a dance in town Saturday night and you know Coy, if there's a dance within fifty miles, he'll attend. Why not invite Adam? We need the people in town to know there is a deputy marshal in the area, and that he's on our side."

      
Warren closed the door and once out of Blair's view, he smiled bitterly. Although he had originally planned to throw Adam and Blair together for an entirely different reason, if he could help Coy too, then so be it. Now, if only nature did take its course…

      
"Would you gentlemen like some feminine company?" Blair asked, dragging a small, cane-bottom rocking chair out on the porch with her.

      
"Sure, come on out and join us," Warren said.

      
Adam glanced at Warren with a taut jerk of his head, but said nothing. I wonder who apologized first? he mused to himself, smiling.

      
Feeling apprehensive about the entire matter, Blair glanced at the sky and chattered nervously, "I thought supper was a little early. Why, there is still a good hour of daylight left." She grinned sheepishly. "I guess I could have looked at a clock, though."

      
Warren stretched his legs out in front of him and gently moved the swing with the back of his boot heels. "I told Tillie to cook early. I haven't had a chance to do any porch-sitting since the weather turned warm. So I decided to indulge myself by taking it easy this evening. Blair," he drawled easily, "why don’t you go get the checkerboard for me and Adam and we'll play a game while it's still good daylight." He had carefully chosen his words to make it difficult for Adam to refuse.

      
"Looks like you and Blair have settled your differences," Adam commented, watching as she went into the house. But then, she looked so beautiful, it had been difficult for him to take his eyes off her all through supper.

      
"It was nothing serious." He shrugged it off with a wave of his hand. "You know how brothers and sisters are."

      
Blair returned carrying a small wooden table and the set of checkers. When Warren stood and positioned the rocking chair in front of the checkerboard table and sat on it, she had no choice but to sit beside Adam on the swing. She could not help but think that she and Warren reminded her of spiders circling their prey until it had been firmly snared in their web. It was not a pleasant comparison.

      
"A cigar would be nice," Warren muttered absent-mindedly.

      
Laughing, Blair removed two from her pocket along with a tin of sulphur matches. "I came prepared."

      
She handed one to each of the men, lighting Warren's first, then turned to Adam. She struck a fresh match and he cupped his hands around hers to steady it. Before lowering the tip of the cigar into the flame, he cut his eyes upwards and asked, "Cigar smoke bother you?"

      
"Oh, no, unlike most women, I love the aroma of a good cigar." She watched as one of his eyes closed lazily when a plume of smoke drifted into it.

      
He stared at her for a moment, his expression inscrutable but his gaze narrowing almost imperceptibly in covetous admiration. "You look very pretty tonight. I like your new hairdo."

      
"Thank you."

      
"That's a pretty dress—well, skirt and blouse— too."

      
"Thank you again." Blair knew she looked nice. She had worn one of the new blouses Warren had purchased for her, and her favorite emerald green skirt. She presumed the green enhanced the color of her eyes and the blouse embellished the new way she had worn her hair.

      
Tearing his gaze away from Blair, Adam studied the checkerboard for a moment then asked Warren, "Where's Coy? I haven't seen him around lately. I had hoped to pull out by first light in the morning."

      
"Tomorrow?" Warren frowned. "I didn't know you planned on leaving so soon."

      
"Yes, I thought I told you yesterday that I was leaving."

      
"You probably did. I've just been so preoccupied here lately . . . that's one reason I called it an early day." He shook his head regretfully. "And he was supposed to show you . . . damn, Adam, now I feel bad. It completely slipped my mind. There was some trouble out at the line shack and I sent Coy out there to take care of it. I don't know when he'll be back."

      
Adam shrugged good-naturedly. "Oh, that's all right, I can find my way around without any trouble."

      
"Wait, I have a suggestion." Blair placed her hand on Adam's arm. She hoped her voice would not shake as badly as her insides did. "Why not let me show you the ranch? I probably know this land as well as Coy. I know when we were children, we played hide-and-seek in the hills, and I always found him, but he usually only found me when I allowed him to. Besides, if I have to sit here at this ranch for one more day, I think I'll scream. I have been wanting to go riding so badly, but Warren refuses to let me go alone, he claims it is too dangerous."

      
"It is too dangerous," Warren and Adam said in unison, then glanced at each other and chuckled.

      
Adam raised his brows at Warren as though asking for help, but all Warren did was shrug and gesture, intimating it was his decision whether he let Blair go or not.

      
She stood her ground, pretending to be vexed with them. "You two can laugh if you want, but I am serious. If I don't get away from the house soon, I’ll go stark raving mad, and Adam, you need a guide, so what I suggested is the perfect solution."

      
"I don't think so, Blair," Adam said somberly. "I plan on taking a pack horse with me so I'll be gone for several days, maybe even a week or two . . . just depends on how long it takes."

      
Without thinking she blurted, "If that is what's worrying you, heavens, I've roughed it before. When we were children. Coy and I used to go camping-out all the time ..." Realizing what she had said, Blair pressed her hand against her brow and cringed. "I —I didn't mean ... I shouldn't have ..."

      
Warren shot Adam an anxious look. "We know how you meant it, Blair. But you're starting to sound like a pest. If Adam says he needs to stay out there for as long as it takes, then that's what he needs to do."

      
She dismissed that argument. "He can't do that though! His feet . . ."

      
"You said my feet had healed." Adam quickly injected. Although he hated to hear her plead in this manner, it was almost comical the way she was grasping at straws. He had the strangest feeling if he did not agree to her demands, she would soon start stamping her feet against the floor.

      
That ought to be interesting, he thought, smiling tentatively. The more angry and frustrated she got, the more beautiful she became.

      
Warren rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. Whatever possessed him to think Blair might be able to pull this off? He'd told her to "act like a woman and behave like a lady." Instead, she was behaving like a spoiled child who didn't get her way.

      
Standing abruptly, she placed her hands on her slender hips. "No, that's where you are mistaken. I said your feet did not have any raw places on them, and that they would still be tender for several more days. I also said you had to wear two pair of socks and keep your feet out of boots. I’ll wager the minute you get out of my sight, you'll take off the moccasins and cram your feet back into those tight boots. I thought you would at least have the decency to stay around for a few days so that I could make sure they are going to be all right. But no, not you! You have to go gallivanting off without anyone to look after you!" She wagged her finger at him. "When they rot and fall off, just don't tell anybody I doctored them! You're not going to ruin my reputation — the reputation it took years for me to build!" She sat back down, jarring the swing when she did so.

      
It was all Adam could do to keep a straight face as he turned to her. "Years, Blair?"

      
"Yes, years, and don't you dare make any snide remarks about my age," she snipped.

      
Warren breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a rider approaching the house. That would put an end to Blair's caterwauling. "Hush, Blair, and try to behave yourself," he said in a stern voice.

      
Blair could not ever remember feeling so ridiculous. Not only had she succeeded in making herself look the fool to Adam, she had failed Coy miserably. If only she or Warren had talked to Adam in the beginning, in all likelihood he would have helped. But now when he left, he’d probably never come back.

      
Adam started to rise. "Since you have company, I’ll go out to the barn."

      
Warren stopped him. "No, that's all right, I’d like for you to stay. Tom Bastrop is my neighbor, I think you ought to meet him. Next to the Bar 4, he has the biggest spread in this area. He is also one of the most respected ranchers around."

      
"But . . . ?" Adam glanced at Warren curiously.

      
"You're very observant, my friend. But I personally don't like him. It's nothing I can put my finger on either, but ... let me put it this way; I get a nervous feeling whenever I turn my back to him."

      
"Oh, I see. I've met men like that before and I always try to listen to my hunch; it's usually right."

      
"Blair," Warren said, standing and leaning against the porch supports, "go tell Tillie to warm up the coffee, and ask her if there was any pie left from supper."