Wildfire in His Arms (42 page)

Max was glad to hear him say those words.

Johnny quickly rode back to the farm ahead of them to keep their grandmother from worrying. Degan insisted that Max mount up with him on the palomino, which she did, but at least she was the one holding Noble's reins this time.

“You seem to be making a habit out of saving my life,” he remarked quietly.

“I thought Carl, not your lady friend and her guard, would try to get rid of you.”

“So that's why you came to Carl's?”

“You were taking too long.”

“Because I didn't expect Allison to be there. She figured out where I was going before we got here. Bingham offered her his hospitality, but he was quick to regret it. Apparently Alli can be quite a snob when she's out of her natural environment.”

“You didn't know that about her?”

“That she's not adaptable or the least bit tolerant? No, I didn't.”

“And smells like roses?”

He actually frowned a little. “It was her favorite scent, but why—?”

“You dreamed about roses, remember? And apparently of 
her
.”

He leaned closer and she felt his breath against her ear. “You sound jealous.”

She snorted. “Of
that
bloodhound?”

“A good comparison. But if you're interested, she's my ex-fiancée. If I dreamed of her during that feverish delirium in Dakota, it was a nightmare. That's all she is to me now, a nightmare that I wish would go away.”

Max was amazed that he'd finally got around to mentioning his previous relationship to that woman, but her curiosity was still going through the roof. “Did she end it between you two, or did you?”

“She did—when I walked in on her being unfaithful before the wedding.”

She winced for him, offering the lame rejoinder, “Better before than after.”

“That's one way to look at it.”

She tried to sound blasé when she asked, “So you don't have any feelings left for her?”

He raised a brow. “
Now
you think I can feel?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant. And you can't convince me you were always made of stone. I think we've already established that your lack of feelings is job related. So do you still have feelings for her?”

“Other than disgust and the occasional spark of leftover anger, no. In fact, if she's not in the same town, she ceases to exist, that's how rarely I think of her anymore.”

That definitely said a lot. Max had to fight not to smile quite happily, aware that he wouldn't appreciate it with the woman's still being such a bad memory for him.

“Allison foolishly pulled that gun on me because she's desperate to get me back to Chicago for some reason. She suspected her guard had become infatuated with her, but she was as surprised as I was when he took a shot at me.”

Max wondered if that was true, but she just said, “You have no idea why she's hell-bent on getting you back to Chicago?”

“No, but you've nagged me enough to—”

“I don't nag,” she sputtered. “I suggest. Big difference, fancy man.”

“Very well, you suggest. But in either case, I had already decided to take you for a visit to Chicago when we were done here—to get you a new wardrobe.”

She laughed. “You surely do like wasting your money, don't you?”

“Why? You might decide you like it there and want to stay.”

“Me in a big city? Would you be staying?”

“Probably not. I'm no longer suited to that life. But I suppose I can check on my family while we're there.”

Probably not
wasn't a
no
. Everything could change once he got there and saw his family again.
She
was the one not suited to his old life, not him. Maybe she should have left well enough alone. . . .

They reached the farm and put their horses away. Walking to the house, Degan asked, “Do you think your grandmother is still up?”

“I'm sure she's dying to find out what Carl had to say.”

Max was, too. With everything that had happened at Carl's house, she still didn't know what he and Degan had said to each other about the hunt for her, the guardianship decree, and the farm.

Reaching the porch, she said, “I bet she's in the kitchen with Johnny. Come.”

She started toward the door and extended her hand to him. It was a natural mistake. She was in her home, back with the people she loved. It's what she would have done with them. She didn't even realize she'd done it until Degan put his hand in hers.

It embarrassed her, how easily she was treating him like family, like a husband—and how easily he was accepting that role. She didn't want him to feel trapped by his gallantry. He didn't expect to stay married to her, he'd made that clear before the wedding. Then why was he taking her to Chicago? She'd like to think it was because he didn't want to part company with her yet, but clothes shopping was a silly excuse. Unless they all needed to get out of Texas before more shooting started. His meeting with Carl could have gone badly. No, he would have said so immediately if it did.

She let go of his hand in the kitchen when Ella rushed toward them. “I'm so glad you're both safe! Johnny told me about the shooting. But I still want to know, is Carl going to leave us alone?”

“That remains to be seen,” Degan answered as they sat down at the table. “I told him nothing definitive. It's not my place to make decisions for you. But from a business perspective, I understand his motives. You are a roadblock for him. If a town doesn't expand, it eventually dies. But you were also right, Max. Carl did still have hopes of turning you into a Bingham and even offered me a bribe to divorce you. The man is despicable.”

“You won't hear any argument about that at this table,” Ella said.

Max turned to her grandmother. “Degan told Carl he would shoot him if he ever came near me again.” Ella smiled widely and Max added with a grin, “Yelling at that man tonight felt really good.”

“I doubt he wants to marry you any longer after seeing tonight how well you can shoot,” Degan said. “But he is still desperate to have this farm. I didn't promise him that you would sell it, but I told him what I would advise you to ask for it, including financial recompense for Max for what he did to her. I can get you enough from him to build a new farm anywhere you want, any size you want, or to live wherever you please. It will be enough so you can be more than comfortable and never have to work again.”

“That might be nice,” Ella said. “As long as Max is with me or nearby and Johnny has a room for when he comes home to visit.”

Max shot to her feet to protest, “But you love this place, Gran!”

“I love you and your brother,” Ella corrected her. “And, yes, even the stuff that's in this house that I've collected over a lifetime. But not the wood surrounding us, baby girl. The fact is, when the mayor first offered to buy me out all those years ago, I expected you to get married here one day and be living close by, and
that's
why I told him no. I wasn't going to move way out in the countryside where I'd barely see you anymore after you got hitched. Besides,” Ella added bitterly, “over the past two years I've lost my love for this town. So if you want to leave, just tell me when and I'll start packing.”

Incredulous, Max turned to Degan. “I guess that settles that.”

He didn't seem surprised. “You can come with me to Chicago to see how the other half of the country lives. There are many pleasant farming towns outside of the city you might like. I can also suggest other locations. I've come across some nice towns in my travels, some that are even quite peaceful.”

“You mean after you've passed through them?”

He actually chuckled. “And that don't have mayors with grandiose schemes running them.”

Johnny concluded with a chuckle of his own. “Sounds like a plan.”

T
HE MAYOR ACTUALLY ENLISTED
a good portion of the town to come over and help them pack up. Max saw it as Carl's wanting them out of town as quickly as possible. Ella saw it as his attempt to make amends. At least he didn't come to bid them good-bye as most of the townspeople did. As long as Max didn't have to see Carl Bingham again, they could depart without further incident. She went to the bank and gave Wilson Cox back the money he'd erroneously given her, as well as a tongue-lashing. The ornery coot took back the money but other­wise ignored her. Still, getting that old irritation off her chest left her in a good mood for the trip.

There were some tears. Ella's. She'd come to Bingham Hills when there had been no more than one short street. She knew everyone in town by name, and that was a lot of names these days. Max started to have misgivings about taking her away from the place where she'd lived for so long, until Ella hugged her and whispered that she was excited about living someplace new and getting to visit a city as big as Chicago was reputed to be—and she was looking forward to painting again. Which made Max guess that Ella might not want another farm after all, not after Degan had mentioned she was rich enough now never to have to work again.

When the stagecoach reached Fort Worth, they had to spend an extra day there to wait for the two wagons to catch up. Max had thought they would need more than two, but Ella had decided to leave all her furniture behind, giving it to a young family who had been especially kind to her during Max's absence from home.

Not until that overnight stay in Fort Worth, when Max was sharing a room with her grandmother instead of Degan, did it finally hit her—the threat from Carl Bingham had ended. She didn't have to wait until she was twenty-one to get her marriage annulled. Degan was probably going to take her to a lawyer to get the process started as soon as they got to the city.

She cried herself to sleep that night. She managed to do it silently so Ella wouldn't know. Somehow she got through the rest of the trip without letting on just how miserable she felt. Johnny's excitement helped. Degan had apparently taken him aside for a talk and convinced him that he could go to sea anytime, but now was the better time to further his education if he had any inclination to do so.

Chicago was amazing. It was like nothing Max could have imagined—the bustle, the endless stream of people, and the buildings, some five stories high! Degan took them straight to a hotel. She was disappointed. She'd thought she was going to meet his family while they were there. Then she was surprised to see that Degan was going to stay in the hotel, too, but
really
surprised when he escorted her to her room and came inside to put his valise down in it.

“I think I would have changed hotels if I couldn't get three rooms this time,” he admitted.

“This time?”

“We had to improvise in Fort Worth. They had only two rooms available.”

Max felt relieved and happy. She'd thought he hadn't slept with her in Fort Worth because he wanted to quit being her husband right then. But they were still married in more than just the legal sense, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it until they weren't.

But then he headed toward the door again.

“Where are you going?”

“
We
are going to take your grandmother to a bank to set up an account and find you both a seamstress.”

“But we just got here!”

“It takes time for clothes to be made. And thieves in the city aren't as easy to spot as they are in the West. I'll feel better when Ella's money is safely deposited, and I'm sure she will, too.”

Max laughed. “I don't think she knows you carried it here.”

“I wasn't going to leave it in Bingham's bank. While the sale was legal and the documents are signed, he still paid a hundred times over what that property is worth. He might regret that eventually, if he doesn't already.”

“Just desserts and small recompense for what he—”

“Did you
want
me to kill him?”

“Would you have?”

“You already know the answer. He is a politician and a ­businessman—who doesn't carry a gun.”

“And you are armed with a business education.” She laughed. “Possibly a more deadly weapon to use against him. I bet he wasn't expecting that from a gunfighter.”

“No, he wasn't.”

They went to the bank first. For such a huge city with thousands of people in it, Max was dumbfounded that every single employee at the bank greeted Degan by name. All of them were deferential, a few were even friendly, too, but none of them were nervous even though he hadn't yet put his gun away or changed his clothes to look more citified.

“I take it you used to come here often?” she asked as they walked through the large building to the manager's office.

“Yes.”

Then the manager rushed forward, exclaiming, “Thank goodness you're home, Mr. Grant. Your father hasn't attended a board meeting for years, and your brother has so little interest in them that he simply accedes to the majority vote.” And then in a whisper: “I don't think he realizes that he
is
the majority vote.”