Oklahoma kiss (22 page)

      
Anxious for a few minutes in which to compose herself, Blair hurried into the house.

      
Bastrop dismounted and tied his horse at the hitching post. He strode easily up the walkway, propped his foot on the bottom step and rested an arm on his leg.

      
"Howdy, Tom," Warren greeted him amicably. "Come on up and sit a spell. We were about to have pie and coffee. By the way, this is a friend of mine, Adam Cahill . . . Tom Bastrop."

      
The men exchanged handshakes. Then Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Adam Cahill. That name has a familiar ring to it, seems I've heard it before but I can't place your face."

      
Adam had wanted to keep his occupation a secret, but undoubtedly this man had heard of him before, his reaction had been too genuine. With some men little annoyances such as this were as worrisome as a flea on a dog until they remembered who, where, when, or what it was bothering them. Since Tom Bastrop was supposed to be respectable, he might as well reveal who he was, get it out in the open and there would be less of a chance for it to come back later and haunt him.

      
"Maybe there's a reason why my name sounds familiar. You might have heard of my reputation. If so, don't believe but maybe half of it—you know how rumors blow the truth all out of proportion. I am a deputy marshal out of Fort Smith."

      
Recognition dawned in Tom's eyes. "Oh, so that's where I've heard your name." Frowning, he glanced anxiously at Warren. "You been having trouble?"

      
"None we can't handle. And before you read Adam's presence here the wrong way, he's not here on official business, it's strictly personal."

      
Tom's tone hinted of disappointment. "For a minute there, I hoped it was official, maybe it would have . . . Let me get to the heart of the matter," he stated firmly. "I'm losing too many cattle to those homesteaders, the other ranchers around here are, too. And I figure you are losing more than you are willing to admit. Hell, it isn't just cattle either. The other night I caught some kids stealing chickens out of my coop. Chickens, for christsakes!"

      
"What do you propose we do?" Warren asked softly. His quiet calmness betrayed none of the anger boiling inside him.

      
"Hell, I’m not sure. I do know we can't let them get away with it. If we do, once that land is open they will keep helping themselves until we're out of business."

      
"Did you ever stop to think that the stealing should slack off once the land is open?"

      
"And did you ever hear of a fox stopping after one successful raid on a henhouse?" Tom countered, then shook his head in disbelief. "I’ll tell you, Warren, I’m surprised at your attitude. I figured you'd be one of the first to arm your men and try to put a stop to this crap!"

      
"Hold it just a damn minute!" Warren's eyes glittered angrily. "I feel like I'm having to walk a-straddle a barbed wire fence. Right now I'm doing everything within my power to hold my family and the ranch together. The government knows we've been the most active members in the Indian Governing Council. They also know we strongly objected to the land being opened —and when I say strongly objected,' that means we raised hell! So, at the first sign of trouble or resistance, they'll hold the Townsends responsible for it." His shoulders sagged as though too weary to fight any longer. "We're heading into the twentieth century, Tom. The days of range wars and settling scores with guns are long past. We have to at least wait and give the justice system a chance to work. I'm not going out to look for trouble, but I'll protect my property though. I've given the men orders to bring anybody suspicious to the house, and if they resist, to shoot them."

      
"Your intentions sound honorable and ..." ,

      
"I'm not finished, Tom. And no, I'm not that noble, nor am I unwilling to fight for what it has taken years to build." He glanced at Adam who was listening quietly. "I'm not speaking in front of my friend now, I’m speaking in front of the deputy marshal —so be forewarned, Adam. I’m sure this is how many of the ranchers and farmers wound here feel. I’m willing to wait until they Open the land —I’m willing to wait and see if we receive the law enforcement we've been promised. But right now, federal troops would be called in at the first sign of serious trouble. The Apache Indian wars are still too fresh on the soldiers' minds, and regardless of who was right or wrong in this particular situation, their sentiments would he with the homesteaders, and we'd just be another bunch of heathen Indians. But, after the land is opened, if there is no attempt to enforce law and order, you won't have to ask for my help, Tom. I'll be riding right beside you!"

      
"I can't say that I agree with everything you said, but at least I know where you . . ." He was interrupted when the front screen opened and a young woman stepped out of the porch. From the way the evening sun was shining on the woman's face, her features were indistinguishable . . . but he knew her. A piercing jolt tore through him as though he had been struck by lightning. Oh, God, how he knew her!

      
"Pie and coffee, gentlemen?" she asked, smiling politely, waiting for Warren to move the checkerboard to provide a space on which to set the tray.

      
''
Megan
?" Tom muttered in disbelief as he took a faltering step toward Blair.

      
"I beg your pardon?" Blair slowly stepped back, glancing awkwardly at Warren. She was not actually frightened by the strange expression on Tom Bastrop's face, but it made her feel somewhat disturbed.

      
"Megan . . . but how . . . ?" The moment the girl stepped back into the shadows, he could easily see she was not who he thought her to be. He quickly removed his hat. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I thought you were . . . someone else. I hope I didn't frighten you."

      
She smiled pleasantly. "You didn't." Setting the tray on the table, she folded her arms and turned back to him. "Tom Bastrop, can you honestly say you do not remember me?"

      
"No, ma'am, I can't say that I . . . " Then he blinked and looked at her again. "Blair Townsend?"

      
Nodding graciously, a touch of color spread across her cheeks when she noticed his look of astonishment had quickly changed into admiration. "Yes."

      
"Why, the last time I saw you, the men called you ‘the terror of the Bar 4', you wore braids, men's britches, and you even ran around with a gun strapped on. And, as I recall, you were always going varmint hunting. Tell me, did you ever catch any?" he teased.

      
Casting a quick glance at Adam, she then raised her chin a bit too superciliously. "There are a few times I can think of when I was rather sucessful."

      
"If you'll permit me to be so forward, the beautiful young woman I see standing here bears absolutely no resemblance to that little girl I was referring to."

      
"Why, thank you, Mr. Bastrop. But four long years can cause many changes." Blair suddenly wished she had a fan to flutter.

      
"Call me Tom. Mr. Bastrop makes me sound too old, and besides, it's much too formal."

      
"All right . . . Tom," she murmured in a husky voice, demurely lowering her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Adam's face turning colors. It had changed from his normal complexion tone, to a mottled pink, and was now blazing a brilliant shade of scarlet.

      
It serves Adam right if he is a little jealous! she thought to herself. It might make him realize he likes me, at least a tiny bit. She appraised Tom more closely.

      
Tom Bastrop was not what she would consider handsome, but he was not unappealing either. In fact, he strongly resembled Warren, not necessarily in his features, but in his size and build. Nor was he too old for her, although she did judge him to be several years older than Warren, which would make about twenty years difference in their ages. But many young women were escorted by older, more distinguished men.

      
And what could a harmless little flirtation hurt at this point in her and Adam's relationship. She had no idea how he felt about her. Perhaps this way, she could force him into acknowledging she was a woman, that he found her attractive, and that sometime in the future, their relationship could have a bit more substance.

      
"Speaking of changes, I'm sure you must be pleased about all of the changes your brother has made around here."

      
"Why, yes, I am very impressed with the way he has modernized the house." She glanced at Warren and smiled, then hastily looked away when she saw the fury in his eyes.

      
Tom laughed heartily. "That remark is just like a woman. I was actually referring to the ranges. But then, I suppose they don't interest you like they used to."

      
"Oh, but I am interested, Tom. Just because a woman is a lady, she does not have to live a sequestered life. And, it is strange that you mentioned something like that because we were just discussing the possibility of my going for a ride tomorrow. You know how much I love to ride, but Warren insists that it is simply too dangerous for me to go unescorted."

      
"Well, he's right. Unfortunately as you must know, there have been some undesirable changes made too, and it is too dangerous for a lady to go riding alone. It so happens I’m free tomorrow afternoon and I would be delighted to accompany you ... to offer you my fullest protection."

      
Without giving Blair a chance to reply, Adam quickly spoke up, "Sorry, Bastrop, but you didn't wait for the lady to finish. She has agreed to go with me tomorrow." The only thing that revealed his anger was how he sloshed coffee into his cup, then set the pot down a little too soundly on the table. "Isn't that right, Blair?" His expression defied her to refuse.

      
"Y-yes, I'm sorry, Tom. Perhaps some other time."

      
Undaunted, Tom pressed, "How about the big dance Saturday night? Would you like to go with me?" He glanced quickly at Warren. "With your permission, of course."

      
Adam spread his mouth into a closed lip smile and slowly shook his head. "Sorry, Bastrop. I've already asked her and she has already agreed. You're just a mite too late."

      
Tom Bastrop was not the sort of man who accepted defeat graciously. Although he attempted to keep his temper and his disappointment under control, he was not quite successful. He glared hard at Adam. "Have you already spoken for all of her dances, or does she still have a few open?"

      
Sensing the animosity building between the men, she gently admonished Adam, "Please, I am capable of speaking for myself." She then flashed Tom a brilliant smile. "I shall be happy to save a few dances for you."

      
He nodded graciously, then remarked, "Well, guess I'd better be getting back to the ranch. Warren, I’d appreciate it if you keep in mind what we were talking about. Until Saturday night, then." He placed his hat back on and touched the brim of it.

      
He was halfway down the walk when he stopped suddenly and slowly turned about. "Warren, I don't want to offend you, but you know yourself, if I ever saw anything I wanted, I went after it— no holds barred. So, I am giving you fair warning about your sister. She is a beautiful young woman."

      
He addressed Blair next. "Miss Townsend, with your permission, I do intend to come calling on you."

      
Then he looked at Adam, his eyes became hard and his voice threw down the gauntlet. "Cahill, just remember, sooner or later you'll have to return to Fort Smith . . ." With that, he turned on his heel and marched determinedly to his horse.

      
No one said a word until Tom Bastrop had disappeared from sight. Then Blair, suddenly afraid Adam might have a change of heart, walked quickly into the house, extremely aware that his dark, murderous eyes were shooting holes in her back.

      
Chapter 13

      
The barn smelled of hay, leather, saddle-soap, and horses. Blair liked the smell, there was a comforting feel about it. Regardless of what her former friends back east thought, there was no stench as long as the barn was thoroughly cleaned on a regular basis.

      
Blair filled her lungs full of the familiar scent as she slipped inside, placed a canvas bag and a rifle over to the side, then silently pulled the door closed behind her. The aroma, and the warm, musky air settled around her like a comfortable, but worn-out blanket.

      
Accustoming her eyes to the darkness, Blair stood at the doorway and listened as a rooster crowed for daylight. Then, hearing the faint sounds of approaching footsteps crunch softly against the ground, she darted into one of the forward stalls and waited.

      
She felt stirrings of apprehension, but the decision had been made. She had come this far, there would be no turning back now. Warren had talked with her at length the previous night, explaining in greater detail how much trouble Coy could get into and how he could even bring hardships to innocent people by his irresponsible actions. She could not allow that to happen, not without trying.

      
The door opened and the shadowy figure quickly entered, set a lantern on a crate and lit it. The soft amber glow cast long shadows on the walls as Adam hurried toward the back of the barn.

      
So, I was correct in following my instincts, Blair thought to herself. Why, that scamp! ‘Be ready to leave at first light,' my foot! An hour before dawn would be more like it! If it wasn't so necessary that I go with him . . . why, I’d be furious. No —I am furious! Who does he think he is ... my keeper? He doesn't want to accompany me anywhere, yet, he doesn't want me going with Tom either. I suppose he thinks I should be locked in my room until he decides I can come out! Ooh, if it was only Adam and me involved, I'd . . . show him he could not treat me this way. And just wait until I see Coy, I'll wring his neck!