Texas Rose TH2 (30 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

Tags: #Historical, #AmerFrntr/Western/Cowboy

BOOK: Texas Rose TH2
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"Have you checked to see if his parents are still alive? Did he have any other relatives?"

Logan looked annoyed. "I ain't exactly a fool. I tried to get my money back out of them the first time I came through here. The second time, they was dead. He had a kid sister, but she married and went away. You living here and having the last name and all, I figure you got to be his. Just tell me where to find him, and I'll be on my way."

"The lady's name is Mrs. Peyton. She's a widow, and she's just moved here. If her husband knew anything about the man you want, he took it with him to his grave." Tyler was tired of this game. He wanted Evie away from this giant before somebody did something rash. Or before Logan really started paying attention to the woman standing there in next to nothing instead of to the gun in her hand.

Logan scowled. "It's only been twenty years, and the man didn't have a son. Unless she married a baby, we ain't talking about the same people. Let's just call it quits."

Evie politely lowered her gun. "Did you find the money you lost earlier, Mr. Logan?"

Tyler clicked the hammer back again as the man's fists clenched. Logan threw him a furious look, but he kept his hands to himself. "I mean to find out who took it. I keep what's mine."

Tyler could see what Evie was about to do even before she did it. With a sigh of exasperation, he grabbed the gun from her hand. "Get in the house, now. Then I'll give him back his gun."

Evie sent him a petulant look, thought better of replying in kind, lifted her robe, and gingerly traced her way to the rear of the house and out of sight. The two men watched her go.

"Just leave her alone and you'll do fine. Half the men in this town are ready to kill for her, and the other half haven't met her yet. You really don't want to get into that." Tyler kept his gun primed, but handed Logan his.

Logan took the weapon, gave Tyler a long look, and shoved it back in his holster. "If I find she's been lying..."

"It wouldn't be anything new. But take my word for it, she's from back East and doesn't know a thing about your man."

Accepting that, Logan shrugged and made his way back down the alley to the lights of town. Tyler watched him go, then turned back to the house and the lying, conniving brat inside.

Except she wasn't inside. She was tiptoeing around the far end of the building and up on the front porch. Tyler nearly winged her before he realized what he was aiming at. Disgruntled, he released the trigger and shoved his gun back where it belonged.

"Damn it, Evie, you're going to get yourself killed creeping around like that. I told you to get back inside."

"I can't talk to you inside. Daniel or Carmen or someone would hear." Evie sat down on the front step and wrapped her feet under her for warmth. The white robe spread in a halo around her.

Hell, that was what he'd wanted anyway, along with a few other things he didn't dare mention. Crossing his arms over his chest, Tyler slumped against the porch post and regarded her warily. "So, talk."

Evie threw him an irritated look. "You don't have to treat me like a criminal. You know why I had to call myself a widow."

"But you're not. Your name is Peyton. I assume that means your father's name is Peyton, too. And you came back here looking for someone. It wasn't any sister, was it?"

"It could be. I don't know." Evie looked away. Tyler in frock coat and cravat was too handsome to endure for long. She wanted to be in his arms, and it wasn't his shirt that she wanted to feel beneath her hands. "I don't even know that my father's name is Peyton. I don't know who my father is."

Tyler slid down the post to sit beside her and contemplate that thought for a while. It could be another lie. He had grown up knowing his father and his grandfather and his grandfather's father. He could recite his family history back to the first Monteigne who came to New Orleans back in the late 1700's. But his family wasn't so insulated that he didn't know about orphans and bastards and the rest of the world's refuse. He just couldn't place Evie among their numbers. She breathed wealth as naturally as air.

"All right, let's say for the moment that you don't know who your father is. What about your mother? Couldn't she tell you? And what about other relatives? And this Nanny you keep talking about? Are you telling me no one knows who your father is?"

Evie slanted him a look that could have meant anything. "Surprised? Who did you think you married, Louisa May Alcott?"

"You're not half as good a storyteller." Tyler leaned back against the post and contemplated the woman before him. She was a liar, but she was the most wholly desirable liar he'd ever met in his life. And she was his wife. It set a whole war of conflicting feelings rampaging through his middle. He didn't want to acknowledge any one of them. "And I doubt that writing books makes Miss Alcott as rich as you."

Evie shrugged. "Nanny was the one with money. We haven't seen any since she died."

"That doesn't make any sense," Tyler pointed out. "Would you care to tell me the whole story?"

"No, I wouldn't." Evie crossed her arms and glared at him. "Would you care to tell me what you intend to do with me? I'm your wife, but no one seems to know it. That's just fine with me, but you can't keep hanging around like this without someone calling me other names."

There was that. Tyler wiped his palms against the knees of his trousers. "I can get you that divorce if you've got your cap set for some other man. But if you haven't, what's the hurry? I'm not planning on marrying anyone else. I owe you some support, I guess. I'll not have you selling your gowns to whores anymore."

"So that's what brought you down here." Evie pulled the robe around her and tried not to shiver at the cold way he was discussing their marriage. It wasn't just the marriage. Those few words muttered over their heads meant nothing to her. But what they had done in bed afterward had meant everything in the world. She'd had dreams that what they had done had meant something. She had never been closer to any person in her life, and she had thought it would stay that way. But Tyler was acting as if it had never happened. She had a hard time keeping the tears from her eyes.

"That's not an answer. As long as you're my wife, I'll take care of you. Now tell me if you want me to go back to Houston and get that divorce."

Gathering her robe in her hands, Evie stood up and glared at the man climbing to his feet. When they were face-to-face again, she leaned over and practically spit in his face. "Take your damned divorce, Tyler, and shove it where it hurts."

As she walked in the house and threw the bolt behind her, Tyler reflected that he had finally taught her how to swear.

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

"Where the hell do you think you're going all geared up like that?" Standing on the boardwalk in front of the sheriff's office, Jace stuck his thumbs in his gun belt and eyed his younger brother skeptically as Kyle swung off his horse.

Wearing his best white linen shirt, a cravat, and a fawn-colored corduroy coat that had all too evidently been dragged from the back of his wardrobe, Kyle wiped the dust off his polished boots with his handkerchief and stuffed the now-dirty cotton back into his pocket. He merely grinned at his brother and joined him on the boardwalk.

"Pheewy!" Jace held his nose. "You've got on more stinkwater than a polecat. If you're not careful, you're going to resemble our resident dandy here." He nodded at Tyler who was leaning against the wall, carving an unoffending stick into a point. Tyler looked up at the reference, gave Kyle's Sunday clothes a disinterested look, and returned to his whittling.

Kyle grinned even wider. "He's just a boy. I'll show him how a man courts a lady."

Tyler closed his knife and put it in his back pocket. He pushed his broad-brimmed hat back on his head, revealing more of his golden curls, and gave Kyle another once-over. "I'd loan you my waistcoat, but I'd be afraid you'd stretch it over that paunch of yours. Why don't we have a game of cards and discuss fashion later?"

Kyle was admittedly a larger man than Tyler, but there wasn't an ounce of fat on him, and he took Tyler's insult for what it was worth. He gave the gambler's French cuffs and embroidered waistcoat a look of scorn. "I've got some time. I'll win enough for a bottle of fancy wine and some candy for the lady, then I'll be on my way."

Fatal last words.

While Tyler skillfully played one hand into another well into the afternoon, Evie excitedly tried on every walking dress in her wardrobe, debating the merits of the formal gray merino over the more elegant ecru foulard.

"Philly and Delphia have no reason to lie, Daniel," she called through the bedroom door. "You know your boss gets all the news first. Mr. Hale is back, and I'm going to see him."

"Evie, I don't want you seeing him until I can come with you." On the other side of the door, Daniel reached for his walking stick. He wasn't using his leg yet, but he was getting better at hopping around on one foot with the stick for support.

"Oh, pooh! He's just a lawyer. What can he do but look at me as if I'm deranged? It wouldn't be the first time." Evie decided on the foulard and rummaged in her jewelry box for a gold locket to add a bit of brightness. She was grateful Carmen had taken Maria with her to the store. There was never time for the little niceties like accessories when the children were around.

"I don't think you ought to tell him who you are. I think I ought to go over there as a friend of the family and make inquiries. There could be a lot of money at stake here. You don't want to rush things." Daniel pulled himself up and hopped toward the door.

Evie pointed back to the chair. "Sit, Daniel. The doctor said exercise the leg, but he didn't mean for you to walk on it."

"If you go without me, I'm sending Manuel after Tyler. I know he's still in town." Daniel met Evie's gaze defiantly.

Evie knew it would take time and effort to locate Manuel, and she could be there and back before Daniel's threat could have effect, but she didn't want Daniel walking even as far as the livery with that leg. She pointed at the chair again. "Sit. You can't ruin your future by damaging that leg. And that's what you'll do if you come with me. And I'm not about to let know-it-all Tyler have any part of this. It's none of his business."

Daniel sat, but the rebelliousness hadn't left his face. "He's your husband, Evie. The two of you can pretend all you want, but the fact of the matter is, you're married. And even if you're right and there isn't any baby, the marriage isn't going away by ignoring it. So as your husband, Tyler should be with you when you see Hale."

The only mirror in the house was the small one she had brought with her. Evie propped it on the mantel and examined her hair. Everything seemed in order. She turned back to her room to find the matching hat. It had a veil of sorts that would hold her hair in place. Keeping a decent coiffure in this heat and dust was a trial.

"Well, I'm not about to go into a saloon looking for Tyler, so you can forget it, Daniel," she called from the bedroom. Finding the hat, she turned to examine its placement in the mirror. "I won't tell Hale who I am. How's that?"

"What will you tell him, then?"

"I don't know. Whatever comes to mind." Airily, Evie adjusted her hat, inspected her skirt to be certain all the flounces and petticoats were in their proper place, and swept out.

It was Saturday and there was no reason to expect that the lawyer would be in his office, but Evie went anyway. She couldn't wait one minute longer than necessary to find out how much the man knew. She had waited a lifetime already. There really could be very little danger in just asking a few questions.

She climbed the stairs to the lawyer's office in full view of the town. There wasn't any reason why the local schoolteacher couldn't see a lawyer. They were both perfectly respectable people. Garbed in full regalia, her bustle swinging her train in proper elegance, Evie felt prepared for anything.

In the shadows, Manuel whistled softly in appreciation before darting off to inform the man who had paid to notify him as soon as she put in an appearance.

Evie knocked politely, then walked in at a call from someone inside. The room was cast in the half-light of pulled shades, but she could tell it was a lawyer's office. The stale air reeked of ancient cigars. There was a horsehair sofa in one corner that she knew would exude dust if she sat down. An oil lamp with a green shade to force its light downward sat on one corner of the old mahogany veneer desk. The veneer was coming loose in places, and the leather of the two chairs in front of it was cracked and mottled.

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