Cassandra Austin (8 page)

They could hear Arlen on the stairs and both women slid into their chairs as Christian rounded the table to take his place. He immediately rested an elbow on the table and his chin on his hand and began toying with his fork. He looked completely bored. It was all Lynnette could do not to laugh. Emily visibly bit her lip, and her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Christian looked up, startled, when Arlen entered the room. “Oh, there you are Arlen. We thought you had gotten lost.”

“Very funny.” Arlen was dressed impeccably, as Lynnette had always seen him in the city. It seemed a trifle overdone for the circumstances, but perhaps he had a business call to make during the afternoon. “Why don’t you return thanks, Christian?” he suggested, taking his place beside Lynnette.

“It’s Emily’s turn. I remember from last summer.”

Lynnette heard a thump and guessed Emily had just kicked her brother. He showed no reaction other than to grin at her before bowing his head.

Emily sighed. “Bless this family and Papa who’s gone and Martha who made the food and—”

They heard the kitchen door open, and Christian pronounced a loud “Amen.”

Emily echoed him quickly and slid her napkin into her lap.

Lynnette gave her and Christian no more than a quick glance, afraid she would laugh aloud if either of them so much as grinned at her. Instead she turned to Arlen beside her. The urge to laugh quickly fled.

Arlen’s expression wasn’t quite sour. Embarrassed perhaps, or disgusted, better described it. He appeared to watch Martha set the plates of thinly sliced beef and thick slabs of bread on the table. Christian and Arlen reached for the plate of meat at the same time. Christian held on with both hands, and Arlen gave it up, rolling his eyes.

The moment they heard the kitchen door close behind Martha, Arlen spoke softly. “Quit acting like children.” He looked from Christian to Emily and back. “Our guest isn’t used to such foolishness.”

“I don’t mind, really,” Lynnette said, then realized she probably shouldn’t be arguing with Arlen. “That is, they were just having some fun.”

“You’re too forgiving,” Arlen murmured. He gave her an adoring look that disconcerted her more than his earlier irritation. She turned away to take the plate Emily passed her.

Martha returned with a tray full of assorted pickles and relishes. The family quietly made their sandwiches until this last tray reached Lynnette. Arlen held the tray and told her what each was and recommended a mild relish and a sweet cucumber pickle. A few he dismissed with a warning that they were spicy. Lynnette wanted to try a little of each one, but with Arlen holding the tray, it seemed to take too long. Instead she took a sample of three and hoped the tray would come around again.

The atmosphere seemed strained after Arlen’s scolding, and Lynnette was relieved when Emily asked her brothers what their plans were for the afternoon.

Arlen explained that he had a few letters to write, and Christian said he was going to ride out and meet their father.

“How will you find him?” Lynnette asked. From Arlen’s startled look, she decided it must have been a stupid question.

“He’s checking the water levels on all the ponds and streams,” Christian said. “We talked about his route before he left. I’ll circle around the opposite direction, and we’ll meet wherever we meet.”

“Will it take all afternoon?” Emily asked.

“I doubt it. Pa could probably make the rounds himself before dark. It’s just that he’s not used to spending the day in the saddle anymore.”

Emily grinned. “Did he just say Papa is old and decrepit? I think that’s what he said.”

“I’ll deny it if you tell him,” Christian said.

“Perry would normally do it, but he broke his leg last fall,” Arlen said.

Lynnette nodded, feeling it wasn’t necessary to tell him that Christian had already explained about Perry’s leg.

“So,” Emily asked Christian, “how long do you think it’ll take before you meet Papa?”

Christian grinned at his sister. “Did you need me for something this afternoon?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to know what everyone was planning. Lynnette, what are you doing this afternoon?”

Before Lynnette could chew and swallow the bite of sandwich she had just taken, Arlen answered for her. “I’m sure she will want to rest after her ordeal this morning.”

Lynnette wanted to protest that while she might feel tired later, she would surely be able to spend some time with Emily. Emily, however, didn’t seem disappointed that everyone would be busy. She announced that she would spend the afternoon in her room reading. A few minutes later she excused herself and scampered up the stairs. Christian looked after her with narrowed eyes.

Arlen didn’t notice anything amiss with his sister. He turned to Lynnette. “As soon as you’re finished, you should go up and lie down. I’ll get what I need out of my desk now and do my writing in Father’s study.” He stood and bent closer to Lynnette. “Will you need help up the stairs?”

Lynnette took a deep breath before she answered. “I don’t believe so, Arlen.”

Arlen nodded and left the room.

Lynnette told herself not to be irritated. Arlen was trying to be kind. She lifted her sandwich to her mouth, and her eyes came in contact with Christian’s. Her hands stilled for a moment before she forced herself to take a small bite.

Christian studied her, and she found it impossible to turn away. Finally he spoke. “If you need any help chewing that sandwich, be sure to let Arlen know.”

The giggle that bubbled up inside her almost made her choke.

“If you want to keep up with this family,” he said
as he stood, “you’re going to have to learn to gobble your food.” He pushed the tray of relishes toward her. “Of course you may enjoy your lunch more with the rest of us gone.” He stacked his and Emily’s plates and cast her a dimpled grin before he headed for the kitchen.

Christian wasn’t sure why he had stayed to tease her. Perhaps he just wanted her to finish the meal with a smile. Arlen meant well, but he treated her like…well, like a china doll. And she wasn’t made of china. The soft press of her body against his back flashed in his mind, and he brushed it away. He could have no such thoughts about his future sister-in-law.

In the kitchen he put the dishes in the sink. Martha and her family were still eating, and he slid onto the bench beside Perry. “That bread was even better than usual,” he told Martha.

Martha blushed at the compliment and offered him another slice. He took it, broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. He groaned in ecstasy.

“He wants something, Ma,” Jake said.

“You could end up mucking out the barn by yourself today, boy,” Christian warned. “But I do have a favor to ask.”

Martha and Jake nodded knowingly, and Perry laughed.

Christian ignored them. “Our guest has been abandoned for the afternoon,” he began.

“And I should entertain your guest?” Martha didn’t sound pleased with the prospect.

Christian flashed her his biggest smile, knowing she
couldn’t resist. “All I’m suggesting is if she comes moping around this afternoon, find something for her to do.”

A slow smile spread across Martha’s lips. “You mean, put her to work?”

“If you can make her think it’s her idea, sure.” He clapped Perry on the shoulder as he slipped off the bench. “Don’t overwork that leg.”

“Maybe I should put the little gal to work mending the chicken pen.”

“There you go,” Christian said. He was grinning when he left the kitchen. Miss Sterling in her pretty pink dress struggling with a roll of mesh wire was quite a picture.

In any circumstances, she was quite a picture. The image of her walking across the prairie would stay with him forever. Damn, Arlen should have been the one to find her. They could have had a romantic ride home.

Maybe not so romantic, he thought, remembering Arlen’s overreaction. Arlen was simply concerned for her, of course. Why did he let it bother him?

He slid open the barn door and stepped inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. His earlier resolution to expose Miss Sterling as a gold digger seemed somehow dangerous, now. He shook off the odd thought and went to saddle his horse.

He was leading the gelding out of the barn when he heard Emily call. He turned to watch her run toward him. She wore a reworked pair of men’s pants that were decidedly tighter than they had been last summer. One of his own shirts was tucked into them, the sleeve
rolled three or four times. Her hair was in a braid down her back, a braid she had managed to make herself. She wore one of Arlen’s hats.

She came to a stop beside him. “I want to go with you,” she said as she gasped for breath. “Please, can’t I go?” She didn’t wait for an answer before hurrying into the barn.

Christian shook his head as he looked after her. He tied the gelding in the shade and followed his sister. She had gone to the tack room and was struggling with her saddle. Christian took it from her and headed toward a stall. “You remember Trooper?” he asked her as he threw the blanket over the gray’s back. “He’s Jake’s favorite.”

He glanced at Emily in time to see her wrinkle her nose. When the horse was saddled he led him toward his sister. “You almost missed me, Muffin. Why didn’t you ask to go at lunch?”

Emily shrugged and stepped forward, ready to mount. Christian made no move to help her, waiting for her answer. Finally she turned toward him, stomping a foot. “If you must know, I didn’t want
her
to ask to go, too.”

Christian keep his face straight. “So you lied and then abandoned her.”

“She’s Arlen’s guest not mine.”

Christian decided he needed to remind himself of the same thing—hourly. “And why didn’t you want her to come with us?” He was afraid his voice caught on the words. He was already imagining it, imagining her in a pair of tight jeans.

“She’s all right, I guess, but I just got home, and I
want some time with you. Besides, she doesn’t know how to ride. You’d have to spend all your time helping her. She’d slow us down, and you’d probably have to bring her back early. No.
I’d
have to bring her back so you could get your work done.”

Christian tried not to grin. He bent to give Emily a leg up. “You convinced me,” he said.

Lynnette had just opened the balcony door when she heard Emily shout. It took a moment for her eyes to reconcile what she was sure she had heard. She would have believed the person hurrying into the barn was a boy if she hadn’t heard Emily’s voice, and seen the bobbing braid.

Christian had gone into the barn, leaving his horse tied outside. Lynnette stepped onto the balcony. She had intended to move the desk chair to the balcony and bring her notebook outside. She stood for a moment considering. She shouldn’t let the appearance of Christian and Emily change her plans. Besides, wouldn’t it be better for them to look up and see her happily engaged than to catch her lurking about in the doorway?

In a moment, she was seated with her notebook on her lap and her ink bottle and rag on a step stool beside her. She would write a story about a young rancher, something she would never have dreamed of doing back in Topeka. Her rancher would fight off rustlers and gunmen to save his ranch and the woman he loved. Maybe his beloved could dress in men’s clothes at some point in her story. No, that would be too
shocking to accept. She must be sweet and demure with maybe a touch of independence.

Lynnette was busily scribbling notes when the pair emerged from the barn, Emily already mounted. She was so engrossed in her work that she was surprised she noticed their return. She watched Christian walk the few strides to his horse and swing gracefully aboard. The slightest touch controlled the horse and soon he moved across the yard, Emily close beside him. She gazed at the long leg and booted foot resting easily in the stirrup. She noticed the way the breeze billowed the loose shirt and ruffled the ends of his long hair…but only because she needed to describe him.

I
t was all going very well. Lynnette had scratched pages and pages of notes and had plotted out her entire story. She had most of the first scene down on paper and the next two fairly well in mind.

A movement in the corner of her vision broke her concentration, and, as she lifted her head, her stiff shoulders screamed in protest. She had been hunched over the notebook in her lap for far too long. She flexed her shoulders as she looked up to see what had caught her attention. Three riders were making their way down the winding trail from the bluff.

The shadows had grown long while she sat absorbed in her work. It must have been the fresh air or the rustic surroundings that had her so inspired she was able to work for hours.

She wiped her pen on the rag and carefully put the glass stopper on the ink bottle. She set the notebook on the step stool and stood, stretching her arms over her head, then stepped forward to lean on the rail and watch the riders come in.

Hugh was in the lead followed by Emily, with
Christian a short distance behind. She couldn’t see if the horses were soaked with sweat as she had described the horses in her story. It was easy to imagine, though.

Hugh and Emily reached the bottom and headed for the barn. Lynnette found her eyes falling on Christian more than the other two. His horse was a dark brown (she would have to ask if that color had a special name) and he rode as though he and the horse could read each other’s minds. She grinned. She would have to remember that.

He rode toward the sinking sun, his hat pulled low over his eyes. She could imagine any expression she liked on that handsome face. Her favorite, of course, was the dimpled grin. She wondered just how far away a person could be and still make out those dimples.

When Christian had ridden past her window he shifted slightly in the saddle. Lynnette realized he had been watching her as intently as she watched him. For a moment she felt embarrassed, feeling she had broken a social mandate. But surely if she hadn’t known exactly where his eyes were, he couldn’t have known she watched him specifically. Still she should have waved to make it seem less improper.

She turned to gather her things from the step stool. “
He
could have waved,” she muttered.

Downstairs a few minutes later, Lynnette found Arlen in one of the huge stuffed chairs, reading from a stack of papers. He set them aside and stood. “Lynnette, darling,” he said, coming forward to kiss her cheek. “Did you have a good rest?”

Rest? She had forgotten that she was expected to spend the afternoon in bed. “I feel quite refreshed, thank you,” she said, trying not to grin at the truth of that statement. “I had a very pleasant afternoon.”

“Wonderful, darling.” He waited until she had taken a chair then returned to his own. “I finished my letters about an hour ago and didn’t want to disturb you. Is Emily still in her room?”

“No.” Lynnette hesitated. Should she admit that she saw Emily ride out with Christian and therefore admit that she hadn’t slept all afternoon? She didn’t like this pattern of dishonesty she saw forming. Why was it easier to let Arlen think she did as he said?

“She went with Christian,” Lynnette said, feeling better already. “They just rode in with your father. I was on the balcony.”

“Then dinner might be on time after all,” Arlen said.

Lynnette wasn’t sure why that response irritated her. Perhaps she had expected him to take more interest in his family’s activities. She was certainly fascinated—because of her story. She felt a contented smile settle on her lips at the thought of the story. Her sensitive story about the hardships and loneliness of ranch life had changed subtly as she plotted. She had to admit it was developing into something Silver Nightingale would write. She hadn’t intended to ever write one of those novels again, but it all fell into place so perfectly.

“I’ll be taking my letters into town to post them tomorrow, would you like to go along?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, I was woolgathering. Yes,
a trip to town would be nice.” Actually she wanted to stay here and write, but she
should
want to spend the day with Arlen.

“You have some letters to post, too, I see.” He pointed toward her hands, resting in her lap.

She glanced down at her ink-stained fingers. “Oh.” She laughed. “I did make rather a mess of myself, didn’t I?” She rubbed at the stains, knowing they would simply have to wear off. “I’m writing a story.”

Arlen looked incredulous. “A story? Whatever for?”

“I enjoy writing,” she said. “I always have.”

“Well, once we’re married, you’ll be too busy entertaining important men and their wives to care about that kind of nonsense.”

“Arlen—”

“Besides, we won’t want you meeting voters with unsightly ink stains all over your hands.”

“Arlen.”

“Ah, here we are.”

Emily nearly bounded into the room. “Hi, Arlen. Lynnette.”

Lynnette smiled at the girl. “Hello, Emily. Did you have a nice ride?”

“It was great fun.” She crossed the room and turned to walk backward toward the stairs as she finished speaking. “I’m going to get my things and take a bath before dinner.”

Lynnette laughed as the girl scampered up the steps. Arlen chuckled too, but more with resignation than humor.

“I don’t understand Father letting her dress like that.”

“I imagine it’s very practical for riding,” Lynnette said, feeling too piqued at Arlen to resist the urge to argue no matter how unladylike it was.

“Perhaps. But it’s not necessary for her to ride.” Arlen came to his feet and stepped in front of Lynnette, offering her his hand. She noticed that his fingers were as ink-stained as her own. “We should go and dress for dinner,” he said, as she took his hand and stood.

“But if she enjoys it,” Lynnette said hesitantly. Here she was, arguing again. “Shouldn’t Emily dress in a fashion that makes riding as pleasurable and safe as possible?”

Arlen tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her toward the stairs. “There are so many other things to give a young lady pleasure. She needs to be taught to enjoy them. It’s difficult for Father to take a firm hand with her when she is only here for a short time. As a result, she’s a bit spoiled.”

Lynnette wasn’t sure how to respond to Arlen. Emily and her father’s rearing of her were none of her business. She shouldn’t argue with Arlen, especially within Emily’s hearing, and the girl came out of her room at that moment, her arms loaded with clothing, and passed them on the stairs.

Arlen walked Lynnette to her door where he took her hands and gazed into her eyes. “You are truly the most beautiful of women. You need to be careful not to let anything mar that beauty.” He touched his finger
to her nose where the sun had left its mark that morning.

She should be flattered by his words but coming after his announcement that her writing was nonsense, they only stung. “Beauty will fade eventually, Arlen. What we are is more important.”

“Of course,” he said, bringing her hands to his lips. “And what you are is my beloved. When we’re married I’ll take good care of you.” He reached behind Lynnette and opened the door for her, holding it as she went inside. “I’ll meet you downstairs in about an hour.”

Inside her room, Lynnette sat on the bed and stared at the writing notebook and ink she had left on the desk. Perhaps Arlen was right, writing stories wasn’t a proper pastime for a woman. Especially stories like this one. She found a smile creeping across her face and shook it away.

Amanda had often told her she wasn’t proper, and Amanda didn’t even know about
Passion’s Secret.
She had been referring to Lynnette’s penchant for making her own decisions and, sin of sins, arguing. Amanda had once predicted she would never marry because of them. Here she was, already chafing under Arlen’s admittedly light hand.

With a deep breath she stood and walked to the wardrobe to choose a dress for dinner. If she wasn’t cut out for matrimony, she thought, it would be better to find out now than after the ceremony. It was only fair to Arlen to let him see what she was really like. Perhaps, as her father had predicted, he would love her the more for her independence. She was even more
skeptical now than she had been when her father had suggested it.

“What do you think of Arlen’s lady?” Hugh rubbed down his horse while Christian took care of Emily’s and his own. Christian wished he could avoid the question entirely. He didn’t like how his answer seemed to change with each encounter.

“She seems nice enough,” he said.

“Yes, yes. But not very sure of herself or perhaps of Arlen. Didn’t she seem hesitant around him? Almost nervous?”

“I don’t know.” Christian wished he had some excuse to leave until his father went into the house, but the saddles were already in the tack room and the horses needed his attention.

“I was only with her last evening, you understand. How were things this morning? Did she sleep as late as Emily?”

“No.” What had happened this morning was hardly his business. He didn’t care to share it with his father.

Hugh had other questions about Lynnette, and Christian answered them as briefly as possible. If he gave his father the impression that he didn’t like the girl, all the better. The questions forced him to recall her expressions, her words, her smiles until he could no longer deny his attraction to her.

He sighed with relief when his father left the barn. His brother’s future wife! He felt disgusted with himself. How had he let this happen? He didn’t even like her type, these city girls who only cared about the latest fashion and expected life to be a parlor game.
Only he already knew Lynnette wasn’t like that. Now he wished to God she was.

He washed his hands and face at the well before he went into the house. He still debated whether he should spend as much time as possible with Lynnette, hoping this foolish attraction would go away with familiarity, or avoid her entirely. The first seemed too dangerous and the second impractical.

He walked into the living room and decided he would save that second idea as a last resort. She looked gorgeous. She was on a balcony again, and the sunlight on her hair formed a halo around her head. Her narrow-waisted dress was the color of wine, and he felt almost drunk just looking at her. He stifled a groan as he turned away.

Arlen and Emily were in the room as well, though he had nearly missed seeing them. Arlen, engrossed in his reading, couldn’t have noticed his interest in Lynnette. He wondered what Emily might have read on his face.

“My, my, little sister, I hardly recognized you. You look almost civilized.”

“I look lovely, and you know it.” She sat in the love seat, her skirt spread around her as if she were posing for a picture. She cast a glance toward Lynnette.

Christian cursed himself as he did it, but he turned to look at her as well. She had left the balcony and walked toward them. Her dress wasn’t nearly as elegant as Emily’s but it showed off a figure that made his mouth go dry. She smiled. He had no idea what he was doing, gaping probably.

“Lynnette fixed my hair,” Emily said, drawing his attention again. He was immensely grateful.

He cocked his head to one side, studying the elaborate style. “What keeps it from falling down?” he asked, pretending to reach for it.

Emily batted at his hand. “Good posture,” she said.

Hugh came down the stairs and invited them to join him in the dining room. Arlen rose quickly to escort Lynnette, and Emily hurried to her father, who tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and walked her to her chair.

Christian followed a few paces behind. Hugh and Arlen were dressed as elegantly as the ladies; he supposed he was the only one who still had work to do.

The meal was served following Hugh’s blessing. Christian barely noticed what he ate, absorbed as he was in avoiding any glances toward Lynnette or his brother. Hugh and Emily kept the others in conversation that was easy enough to ignore. Arlen’s announcement that he would go into Cottonwood Falls the next day to post some letters and Lynnette would go along was the only thing that made an impression on him.

He tried to convince himself that that didn’t interest him either. He wasn’t going to miss Lynnette. He would be working and wouldn’t catch more than a glimpse of her if she were home. It was ridiculous to feel disappointed that she would be gone, so, of course, he didn’t. He discovered he was looking at her and quickly turned away.

When dessert was served, Hugh asked Lynnette about her education, and Christian found himself
watching her again. It seemed her father had believed young ladies should have the same education as young men and instead of putting her in a finishing school had sent her to a regular university.

“I’m impressed,” Hugh said.

Christian glanced at his brother.
Impressed
did not describe the look on his face.

“I admit I’m surprised,” Arlen said. “I had no idea your father’s views were so—”

“Liberal?” Lynnette offered.

Christian wondered if Arlen had planned to say crazy.

“Well, yes…liberal,” Arlen said. “It seems sort of a…a…waste of, well, resources, don’t you think?”

Christian couldn’t resist. “How’s that, little brother?”

Arlen’s cheeks turned pink. Christian didn’t dare look at Lynnette. Could he have asked the question out of some deep desire to cause a rift between the two? He wished he could withdraw it.

“Most universities,” Arlen began, “must limit their enrollment. A seat to a woman denies one to some man who would actually use an education.”

“I’m sure my father felt I would use the education one way or another. At the very least, an education encourages one to think for oneself.”

Christian caught a note of challenge in the last statement, but Arlen didn’t seem to. He shook his head, chuckling. “Next we’ll learn your father believed in suffrage for women.” No one else laughed.

“I’m not sure if he did or not,” Lynnette offered mildly. “But I most certainly do.”

“My dear,” Arlen began in a voice lowered to instruct a child. “Suffrage means the right to vote.”