The Lone Rancher (12 page)

“You're staying with me,” he said in no uncertain terms.

She smirked in contradiction. “No, I'm not. There are so many rumors and speculations swirling around us right now that the gossip mill will be grinding for a week. Rosa offered the use of her apartment above the shop for the night. We can stay at Merritt Dixon's nice boardinghouse on the south side of the square or Jenkinses' Château Royale near the train depot.”

“No, I want you close by so I can make certain you're all right,” he insisted sternly.

She tilted her grimy face to survey his rock-hard expression. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I'm not completely convinced that lightning started this fire, Boston. But I sure as hell was not going to voice that speculation in front of your cowboys and mine because that would incite more gossip.”

Her mouth dropped open. When she recovered from
shock she clamped her jaw shut. “You think this was deliberate?”

“Four of your men and five of my men were here during the party. All of them were attempting to douse the fire when I arrived. But one of them might have set it, then appeared innocent of wrongdoing by sloshing water on the flames.”

“Or someone could have lit the fire and left the scene without being noticed,” Adrianna speculated. “Indeed, someone might have hightailed it to town to attend the party. It is impossible to know who is guilty when so many people are milling about.”

Quin muttered under his breath. “We can't tell for certain what happened, or where the fire originated, until daylight. Maybe not even then. The rain ruined the chance of finding tracks and following them.”

Adrianna nodded glumly. “Why would someone target me? Have I made that many enemies around Ca-Cross already?”

“There are several possibilities,” he speculated. “Your former disgruntled foreman might have acted on his resentment.”

“Oh, damn, I didn't consider that. George Spradlin didn't like being demoted so he collected his wages and stormed off. I haven't seen him since.”

“Then again, someone might be trying to throw suspicion on me,” Quin suggested. “Torching your home might be a tactic to keep our personal feud alive. The fire might make you want to retract that kiss you planted on me in front of our men. Contrasting speculations will be flying now.”

“So someone wants
me
to blame
you,
” she mused aloud. “If I don't fall for your charm, who gains from it?”

“Someone who wants to court you and sees me as an unwanted rival,” Quin speculated, then studied her quizzically. “How many marriage proposals did you receive tonight?”

“Several. But compared to the number at a Boston soiree it was an off night. Surely no one would be spiteful enough to break up our potential courtship…or would they?” She expelled a frustrated breath, then raked her mop of hair from her face. “I'm not sure what is going on or why but it is evident someone wants to undermine you, me or both of us.”

“You're coming home with me and that's that.” Quin scooped her up and plunked her down on the carriage seat before she could object again. “Take your family of employees to my place. I'll be home soon.”

While the threesome carted belongings to the carriage, Quin walked up to speak to Lucas, who glanced up sharply, stared in Adrianna's direction, then nodded his raven head.

“Blast it,” Adrianna grumbled. “Lucas and Rosa don't need to be involved in this. They are newlyweds.” But clearly, Quin considered the former Texas Ranger a confidant and he'd shared his suspicions about the fire being deliberately set.

“So much for needing a bath this evening.” Butler plucked at his soggy clothes after he had assisted Bea and Elda into the buggy. “Things could have been much worse, I suppose.”

They are worse than we thought,
Adrianna mused as she turned the carriage toward the 4C. Someone was
intent on fueling speculations and gossip about her and Cahill. Someone also wanted to keep Adrianna and Quin's suspicions about each other alive.

Why?
Adrianna wasn't sure but she intended to find out.

 

“You think someone orchestrated that fire to make you look bad?” Lucas focused his dark-eyed gaze on the plumes of smoke drifting in the wind. “Any idea what someone might gain from this?”

Quin scowled, then glanced sideways to watch Boston and her entourage head toward his house. “Don't know, Burnett. Maybe it's a warning for Boston to distance herself from me because I have this so-called curse hanging over my head and now it's rubbing off on her.”

Lucas snorted. “Every rancher in the area has been plagued with rustled cattle, stolen horses and fires of some sort. I lost a couple of horses that I had planned to sell at Fort Ridge last week. They were in the pasture one night and gone the next morning.”

“Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm overly suspicious,” Quin replied. “But it's been a bad week, not just a bad night.”

Lucas waited a beat, then said, “I'm sorry about your little sister. Even if the rumors aren't true, it adds fuel to the turmoil surrounding your family name.”

Quin scowled. He didn't want to discuss his sister and brothers while frustration boiled inside him. “Thanks for the help, Burnett. Sorry to cut your special evening short.”

Lucas peered directly at Quin. “You would have been there if I had needed you, right, Cahill?”

“Of course.”

“Then there you go. I have three friends around here. You, Rosa and Dog. Everyone else is a nodding acquaintance. Well, except for Addie K. and her employees,” he added with a grin. “Rosa says they are my family now, like it or not.”

Quin managed a faint smile as he strode alongside Lucas. “I can count my true friends on one hand. Everyone else thinks I'm jinxed because my name is Cahill.”

Lucas chuckled. “Maybe you should change your name, then.”

Quin contemplated it all the way home. The knot of tension that tightened his chest eased slightly when he arrived at his house. Lights were blazing in the windows of all three stories. It reminded him of the days when his parents were alive and his brothers and sister were around. He welcomed the company and the distractions tonight, especially after the shocking news about Leanna and the suspicious fire that had destroyed Boston's new addition.

Soaked to the bone, Quin ascended the steps to his room. He stopped short when he realized Boston had made use of the space to change into her customary tan breeches and blue blouse. Even with wet hair dangling around her face she still appealed fiercely to him.

“Sorry,” she said as she gathered up her soggy emerald-green gown she had draped over a chair. “I'll get out of your way so you can change clothes.”

“No, you can have my room. I'll stay in Ma and Pa's suite.” Odd, he'd never given a thought to taking
over the spacious two-room living quarters. He had left everything the way it had been two years earlier. But as his brothers and sister had said, Ma and Pa weren't coming back. No matter how hard Quin tried to cling to the past, nothing was going to be the same again.

She eyed him intently. “Are you sure that's what you want to do, Quin? Elda told me that you prefer to leave everything in its place. I can camp out on the third floor, you know.”

Quin smiled in wry amusement. “So that's why Elda agreed to come to work for me. She was your spy. Clever, Boston, did you put her up to it?”

She grinned impishly. “No, I didn't have to. Elda thought of it all by herself. Oh, and I recently discovered that Hiram Butler and Beatrice Fremont have been carrying on an affair without my knowledge for a decade. So if you hear someone tiptoeing down the hall after lights out, do not investigate. It might prove embarrassing.”

Quin chuckled. “I'll ignore footsteps. Wouldn't want to stand in the way of true love, if that's what it is.”

When he spun on his heel, Boston fell into step behind him. “I want you to know that I never, not even for a moment, thought you were involved in tonight's fire.”

“Thanks, Boston. I doubt you're in the majority. Too many folks envy the fact that I make money as a member of the town's founding family because I sell commercial and residential lots, carry the loans and collect rent on business buildings. Not to mention that I run an expansive ranch operation. Yet, it's easier to criticize than praise the acquisition of wealth, good fortune and
hard work. Not that I've enjoyed much good luck in the past two years.”

She followed him to the master suite and halted at the threshold while he lit a lantern in the sitting room. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly.

The prompt set him off. “No, I don't want to talk about my sister, who might have reduced herself to prostitution to eke out a living for herself and her illegitimate child!” he erupted like a volcano.

Adrianna closed the door and watched him pace from wall to wall in the sitting room. Rain pounded against the windows and thunder rumbled outside—and deep inside Quin, as well.

“And I don't want to discuss Chance, who is closer to Annie's age and enjoyed a bond with her that Bowie and I didn't because we were a few years older.
We
were her
protectors
and I failed my baby sister miserably!” he spewed in frustration.

“Damn it, if she's dealing cards in some low-life saloon it's because we taught her to play cards as a kid. What a mistake that turned out to be!” He lurched around, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. “Plus, right before she rode away, I jokingly suggested she become a saloon girl since she had no marketable job skills.”

“Maybe Chance is keeping a watchful eye on her,” Boston supplied helpfully as she followed him into the bedroom while he lit the second lantern.

“And maybe he isn't.” Muttering, he wheeled away from the massive walnut bed to pace toward the marble-top dresser on the far wall. “All Chance ever cared about was being lightning-quick on the draw and deadly accu
rate with a pistol. Hell, he had better not be someone's hired gun with notches on the handle of his pistol. Ma and Pa would be rolling in their graves, for sure.”

“It's easy to think the worst—” she tried to interject, but Quin wasn't through venting his frustration.

“And Bowie, damn him!” Quin reversed direction to wear another path on the carpet. “He should be checking on the younger ones since none of them want anything to do with me. How could he have allowed this to happen?”

“There is a strong possibility Preston was tormenting you for the sport of it.” She sank into a chair near the dresser. “You claimed he once pursued Leanna and you ran him off when she tired of him. I can name countless suitors who circulated hurtful stories about me to hide their embarrassment of rejection. The same goes for envious locals starting rumors to make sure everyone believes your success comes at the price of that ridiculous curse—”

“Because I'm supposedly in league with the devil,” Quin cut in sourly, and raked his hands through his disheveled hair. “Let's not forget that, Boston.”

“The same rumors spread about the McKnights,” she informed him, sounding oddly distracted. “Supposedly, prosperous families sell their souls to Satan for power and wealth. The population of Ca-Cross will be ecstatic, I presume, when we are both frying in hell….”

Quin arched a quizzical brow when her voice evaporated. “Boston? Are you all right? Why are you looking at me like that?”

To his stunned amazement, she walked over to unfasten his wet cravat, then tossed it aside. She pulled off
his coat and sent it flying in the same direction as the cravat.

He stared bemusedly at her, his eyes glistening like mercury in the lamplight. “What are you doing, Boston?”

“Helping you out of your damp clothing.”

“You sure that's a good idea? Remember what happened last time you and I started undressing each other in that grove of trees in the pasture?”

She smiled wryly. “You offered room and board for the night, didn't you?”

“Yes, but I don't expect intimate favors in return. I'm indirectly to blame for that fire, I expect,” he reminded her.

She unbuttoned his shirt, anxious to get her hands on his muscular chest…and other parts yet exposed to her curious eyes. Adrianna wasn't sure what had come over her while she watched Quin pace in frustration. She had become utterly fascinated by the way he moved with such masculine grace. The fierce, impulsive need for him overwhelmed her. She remembered all too well how it felt to touch him, to be touched by him. And suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, she
wanted
him—badly.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

“I have another theory,” she murmured as she skimmed her lips over his hair-roughened chest and encircled his male nipples with her forefinger—loving the feel of his muscled flesh flex and relax beneath her hand.

“What theory is that?” His voice crackled and a muffled groan clogged his throat.

“The fire was a warning for
me,
sent from one of
your
secret admirers. One of your jealous lovers might have tried to burn down my house for spite.”

“I don't have any lovers, jealous or otherwise,” he said as he stepped back a pace. “Look, Boston, I know your emotions are in as much turmoil tonight as mine, but this isn't a good idea. Not that I'm not interested, because you know I am. But we've both had a rough evening. If we become each other's consolation tonight, you'll regret it in the morning.”

Adrianna thought it over carefully and realized she was not looking for compassion, distraction or consolation. Her desire for Quin—who could be maddening one minute and irresistibly charming the next—had plagued her since she'd met him.

“Of all the men I could have had, Cahill, you're the one I want,” she admitted honestly. “You have assured me that you don't need my money and I have no need of your wealth. There are no strings attached, right?”