from his tight body. At least most of her flesh was covered.
His eyes caught the gown again. "You don't have any
clothes?"
"Of course I do." She lifted the other leg to roll up twelve
inches or so of extra material. "It's just that they're all at
Danny J's."
Slapping the trunk lid shut, he sat down on the top. A knot
twisted in his stomach. "You're one of Danny J's girls?"
"No." She shook her head. "I didn't plan on running away
last night, so I didn't take the time to get dressed."
He drew his brows together, tried to figure out what she
meant. Was she running away before she became one of
Danny's girls, or after?
She continued rolling the pant legs. "You see, Aunt
Corrine's been hiding me since I arrived. Actually, I got to
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town the same day you started to build here." She settled her
feet on the floor. They looked extremely tiny poking out
beneath the thick cuffs she'd created on the bottom of the
pant legs.
"No, I don't see. What do you mean, hiding you?"
Her chin dipped. "She didn't know what else to do with me.
I didn't either. It wasn't at all what I expected."
"What you expected?"
She gave a negative gesture and grimaced.
Was he truly this dense, or did she really not make any
sense? "I think we need to back up a little. Start over."
"Uh? Start over?"
"Yes, start over." Voices from outside mingled in, but he
wasn't ready to face the mob again. "Your father..." A foul
taste filled his mouth, and his eyes strained as they popped
open. "Wait a minute. Thurston Fulton is your father?"
She nodded.
"The Thurston Fulton who's running for governor of
Kansas?"
She nodded again.
"The Populist?" Howard cringed at his tone. The newly
created political party had been playing havoc on the plains.
They were worse than any vigilante gang and, unfortunately,
had more power behind them.
She grimaced—an odd little look he didn't know how to
interpret.
"Doesn't he live in Topeka?" he asked. That's where most
of them did their scheming. Populists felt the government
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should control all railroads and banks and were making a
mess of things for the cattlemen and city folks alike.
"Yes, and so did I, until a few weeks ago." A long sigh left
her chest.
He pushed his political views aside, focused on Randi.
"Why don't you start right there?" A twitch pulled at his brow.
"Tell me what happened a few weeks ago and end your story
with how you ended up in my bed last night."
"Well, all right. Let's see..."
He glanced up.
Let's see?
Oh, God, what had he done
now? Was he a complete idiot? Was she a politician too?
Could talk for hours without saying a darn thing?
She wrung her hands together. "Well, I think I need to
start with last summer."
"Huh?" The throbbing in his temples was back.
"You see last summer my mother passed away. She'd
been sick for some time, so it was really a blessing. But
terribly hard."
"I'm sure it was. I'm sorry."
"Thank you," she acknowledged with a slight head bow.
"You see, my father was already signed up for the Governor's
race. His party elected him just the day before she died.
People don't want to elect an unmarried man, so he had to
marry Belinda. She's been involved in politics for years, so
she was the best choice. But they had to wait a respectable
mourning period before getting married. People wouldn't like
if he disrespected Mama by getting married too soon, either."
Howard's mouth had fallen open. He slapped it shut, and
holding the back of his head, waited for her to continue. She
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honestly couldn't believe what she was saying, could she? No
one was that naive, were they?
"They decided six months. So in February, he married
Belinda. That's when she told me I'm too old to live with them
and needed to..." she paused for a few seconds, then said,
"move out."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty." She rolled her eyes in an exasperated way. "I
know—well on my way to becoming an old maid—Belinda tells
me so all the time. But Mama was sick for a long time, and I
took care of her. She needed me. I didn't have time for
anything else. And I told Belinda I didn't have to live with
them. I could live at the farm." Her head lowered until her
chin touched her chest. "But it was sold."
He rubbed a hand over his lips, afraid the assumptions
jumping into his mind would leap out his lips. Thurston Fulton
was not only a Populist, he was a complete ass.
She brushed several strands of hair from her cheeks. "Aunt
Corrine was the only one of Mama's family who ever wrote.
Mama loved getting her letters. They were full of tales about
buffalo hunters, cattle drives, street dances, and all the other
fascinating events in Dodge City. So...when Belinda said I had
to either get married or leave. I left." Those big doe eyes
settled on him. "I mean, I couldn't marry Edward Keyes, he's
older than my father." A sigh slipped out. "So, I bought a
ticket to Dodge."
He rested his elbows on his knees. His family was a little
rough around the edges, but they weren't despicable. Right
now his mind was deciphering her father and Belinda to be
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about as loathsome as they come. "What happened when you
got to Dodge?"
"I had written to Aunt Corrine, but she never got the post.
When she wasn't at the train station to meet me, I figured the
best way to find her was to ask someone. Sure enough, a
man at the depot knew where she lived. But I must admit, I
was a little shocked when I discovered she was, well, you
know." Her cheeks turned a blushing pink.
He nodded. Everyone knew Corrine Martin was one of
Danny J's girls. Danny's prized queen, to say the least.
"Aunt Corrine wanted me to leave as soon as I arrived. But
I didn't have anywhere to go." Her face scrunched into a
dreadful frown. "I suspect she was afraid Danny J would put
me to work if he found me at the house. So, she hid me in a
little room upstairs—just until we could figure out what I
should do."
"What happened last night?"
"The cook Danny J has isn't very good, and whatever was
in the soup she made yesterday didn't settle with me." Her
cheeks grew pink again. "I woke up in the middle of the night
needing to—well, while I was outside a fight started inside the
house. I don't know who it was, but there were all kinds of
screaming and crashing. I—I—uh, didn't dare go back inside.
I remembered this place, so ran down here to hide and—"
"Randilynn! Randilynn, I need to speak to you!" Her
father's voice bellowed near the door.
Her eyes grew wide with apprehension, and the color
drained from her cheeks. The way she crossed her arms to
rub at the shivers encompassing her from head to toe made
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Howard turn to the door and shout, "She'll be out in a
minute."
"I need to speak to her now!"
He rose and stomped across the tent. Tugging the flap
aside, he glared at the man. "I said she'll be out in a minute."
"Listen here, young man—"
Ire raced up his spine. "No, you listen here. Randilynn is
no longer your daughter. She is now my wife, and I said she'd
be out in a minute." He met the man, eye to beady little eye.
Thurston Fulton turned dynamite red, and Howard thought
the man might shoot skyward at any moment. He gestured
toward Snake and Bug standing a few yards away, silently
asking the boys for assistance. His brothers walked over, and
stopped, one on each side of Thurston Fulton.
The shorter man glanced at the two much younger, much
stronger, men towering over him. His Adam's apple jiggled as
he swallowed. "All right, then. I'll, uh, I'll be right out here
when she's ready."
Howard didn't respond, just let the flap fall shut and
turned back around. He kept his gaze averted, afraid she
might see his anger. The nightdress still lay across the foot of
the bed, and he used the sight to continue their conversation.
"How'd your gown get torn?"
"It snagged on something when I jumped the fence."
"The fence around Danny J's?"
She nodded.
He lifted a brow. "It's close to four feet tall."
Her gaze caught his. A bright twinkle shined in her eyes as
she solemnly admitted, "I know."
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A chuckled tickled his chest, but before it emitted, the
seriousness of the night's events hit him like a tornado. Had
he just called her his wife? Shit! She was his wife. All of a
sudden his legs had the strength of wet leather. What the hell
was he going to do with a wife?
Randi held her breath. The man filled the tent from top to
bottom. He had to be six and a half feet tall, if not seven, and
she'd never seen someone so broad. The shoulder seams of
the shirts she wore hung to her elbows and the bottoms went
below her knees.
Yet, she wasn't afraid of him. His face, besides being quite
handsome, was kind, and didn't raise any fear. But she was
very worried as to what he thought of her. Did he despise her
for hiding in his tent? Hate her for the wedding that just took
place?
She began to tremble. The silence was more than she
could take, and a strange desire washed over her, made her
want to know everything about him. Her voice quivered as
she asked, "Where were you last night?"
He looked at her. A deep frown pulled on his brows.
She tugged her gaze away, fluttered a trembling hand.
"The place looked abandoned," she offered in explanation.
"I'd gone to Wichita to order furniture and fixtures." He
stepped away from the door and walked over to sit back down
on the large trunk.
"What are you building?"
His face softened. "A restaurant and hotel."
"Really?" Her heart began to beat erratically.
"Yup. I plan on it being the finest establishment around."
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"Oh, how exciting! Mama's grandfather owned a hotel and
restaurant in New York. She talked of it often." Randi pinched
her lips together, tried to stifle the excitement tingling over
her skin. A sad thought sent the warmth away like a cold
wind. "When the land run started she and her parents came
west, and she never got the chance to go back."
He nodded but didn't comment.
She rubbed her feet together, unsure what to say next.
Elongated shadows moved about outside the tent, reminding
her they couldn't stay in here forever. "Um, Mr. Quinter?"
He lifted his face, looked at her expectantly.
Her heartbeat increased tenfold. "I'm, um, really sorry for
what happened. The marriage and all..." She took a deep
breath and forced the rest of her confession out, "But I really
don't know what to do about it."
"Well, Randi, I guess I don't really know what to do about
it either."
Deflated, she nodded, having hoped he had a plan.
"But we'd better come up with something." He glanced
toward the door. "Before we go out to face the mob."
Her hand flew to her lips. A giggle threatened to erupt. It
was stupid, she knew, the colorful group filling the tent earlier
was certainly nothing to laugh at.
A gentle smile covered his face, one that said he agreed
with her giggle. "Isn't that what they reminded you of? A
lynching mob?"
She nodded, let part of the laugh come out. It sounded like
a snort. Flames licked at her cheeks.
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He laughed aloud. "I guess I should be glad they found a
preacher. Beats the hell out of a stiff rope. Or Boot Hill."
She gasped. "Oh, surely they wouldn't have..."
"Guess we'll never know." He shrugged.
Her eyes grew wide.
He let out a low laugh, and one eye winked at her.
The action caused her cheeks to tingle, again, and allowed
a small sense of relief to filter over her system, but not for
long. "What are we going to do?" she murmured.
His face grew serious. "I have to be honest with you,
Randi. A wife really isn't in my plans right now." He shook his
head, pointed toward the doorway. "I have a lot to do
building this place, getting it started."
"I could help," she blurted.
"No, I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.
"I understand." She didn't, but felt she had to say she did.
"I'm sure I can make my father understand the situation. I'm
sure I can go back to Topeka with him and Belinda." She
hated the thought, but what else could she say?