Wyoming Wildfire (24 page)

“I’d never do anything to hurt her. I love that little gal” Lasso declared passionately, but then fell into silent contemplation. “Do you really mean all that?” he asked at last. “She could be different.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve lived in the same house with her for nearly three months, and I know you’ll never turn her into anything resembling Mary. If you want Augusta, you’re going to have to accept her as she is. Otherwise, you ought to leave her alone.”

“Is that what you’re doing with Sibyl?” The friends’ eyes met and held.

“I’m not looking to be married,” Burch replied, uncomfortable at having his affairs looked into by anyone.

“Then you’d better get that leg to working again and get away from here, or you’ll be calling on the parson before spring.”

“I doubt that. Sibyl thinks I’m stubborn, opinionated, prone to ride roughshod over people, think women are good for nothing but cooking, or any number of other things she sees as a fault.”

“That’s never stopped one of them from getting married yet. She’s all taken up with this furniture and stuff right now, but the next step will be to find herself a husband. You see if that gal doesn’t come cozying up to you.”

“She’ll have to start speaking to me first.”

“Like that, is it?” questioned Lasso with raised eyebrows. “You’re caught for sure.”

“Like hell I am.” The gray eyes clouded with confusion. “Let’s run away, both of us, and spend the winter hunting.”

“And be found frozen to death or eaten by wolves? You
have
got it bad. You’re desperate and don’t even know it.”

Chapter 16

For the next few days Sibyl’s feverish activity kept the house in a constant turmoil, but her sulky behavior and black silences were entirely forgotten. She drove Ned, Balaam, Jenkins, and any other man unwise enough to come near the house to the point of exhaustion. Burch grew tired just watching so much activity, but Sibyl bloomed with the bustle and commotion. What with prying open crates to see what they contained, trying to decide what to put where, and then changing her mind when she found something she had forgotten, it took the better part of two days just to unload the wagons. Bountiful provisions were made for the men at mealtime and they were even allowed to rest while the dishes were cleaned up, but otherwise they were kept busy uncrating a table, lifting a sofa, or putting up a bed.

“The better part of Lexington must be eating its dinner standing up,” Burch remarked as he counted twenty chairs being carried into the dining room. Behind the house the pile of broken crates and straw packing was reaching elephantine proportions.

“There’s enough wood for a dozen cow sheds, and kindling for half the county,” Lasso pointed out, looking at the remains of a crate that had contained a prized table the ladies determined should stand in the entrance hall. Rugs appeared on the floors and pictures on the walls. Curtains went up at the windows and the corners of every room began to fill up.

“Pretty soon there’s not going to be any room left for people,” complained Burch.

“Especially men,” added Lasso, disgusted by the abundance of lace on curtains, table covers, and armrests. “They’ll be after us to scrape our boots and dust our clothes till it’d be more of a pleasure to bed down in the badlands.” But Burch was in for an even greater surprise.

By evening his leg was paining him; he was tired, irritable, and in need of a good rest when he opened his bedroom door to find that his modest bed had been replaced by a monster four-poster hung with brocade and piled high with soft feather mattresses and eiderdown pillows.

“Where in the hell did this thing come from?” he demanded of Sibyl.

“It belonged to my grandparents. They slept in it their whole married life.”

“What have you done with my bed?”

“It’s in one of the guest rooms.”

“Then see that’s it’s brought back right now.”

“That’s impossible,” she told him impatiently.

“If you got this thing in here, you can get it out again. I can’t possibly sleep with two ghosts, especially not your grandparents’.”

“Everybody’s already gone. Besides, they would need at least two hours to take the bed down and move it.”

“I’ll sleep in it if you’ll come protect me,” he remarked, an impish light dancing in his eyes.

“Absolutely not!” Would she ever stop acting like a foolish teenager when he smiled at her like that?

“I’ll tell Augusta you tried to seduce me, and I had to sleep in the guest room to escape your improper advances.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she shrieked, trying not to laugh. “After I positively violated my conscience to give you this bed, you’ve got to use it.”

“Why?” he demanded, suspicious of the sudden merriment dancing in her face.

“Because I’ll never speak to you again if you don’t.”

“Careful, I might take that as an inducement.” Sibyl was nettled at that.

“Why was it such a struggle?” he asked. Sibyl’s glare subsided and a puckish smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

“It was my grandfather Cameron’s bed. He was a severe old patriarch, from what Aunt Augusta tells me, and very proud of his position and family. He didn’t think much of women and even less of children.”

“If you’re trying to say mat I—”

“He was proud, mean-spirited, sure he was right, and stubborn as an oak stump,” she finished comprehensively.

“I thought you would get around to that before long.”

“This bed was the symbol of his unbending power. I couldn’t use it and Aunt would lie awake all night if I even suggested putting it in her room.”

“So you thought that I, being as much like your grandfather as two peas in a pod, would be perfectly happy in that medieval monster,” he finished for her, failing to see any humor in the situation. “And what about your conscience? You did say you had one.”

“Grandfather was a very particular man, rather stiff and formal. The only thing he hated near as much as a Yankee was westerners. Not Wyoming because there wasn’t any such place in his day, but everything west of the Blue Ridge. He considered them next door to barbarians. I think he would have moved to New York before he would have lived on a cattle ranch.” Her eyes were alive with mischief. “But I never knew grandfather, so it really wasn’t much of a struggle.”

“I can believe that,” barked Burch. His leg was throbbing painfully and his house turned inside out by a shrew that hadn’t spoken to him for a week but was still coming up with ways to make his life miserable. To top it off, she was looking absolutely adorable and his starved body ached relentlessly for the release he could find only in her arms. The combination of irritants was too much, and his temper snapped. “The only thing that does cause you a struggle is to believe that I might know more about something than you do.”

“That’s not true,” Sibyl objected, her own temper flaring up immediately. “You determination to think that I don’t know anything at all is what makes me so furious.”

“You may know enough to run a small farm in Virginia, but that’s not sufficient to set your opinion against mine when it comes to this ranch.”

“Whose opinion can you expect me to set against yours if not mine?” she interrupted him, exasperated.

“Nobody’s. I know more than you on almost everything.”

“Oh, bother your generous
almost”
Sibyl flung at him. “What you mean is that you know
everything,
and you’d like nothing better man for me to shut my mouth and stay in me kitchen.”

“The kitchen’s not the only room …” he began, his gaze growing hot as it caressed her body.

“Don’t you dare say it, or I’ll break your other leg.” The memory of mat afternoon in the line cabin changed swiftly from a wondrous awakening to a galling humiliation. “I thought you might change, but I can see mat you’re never going to be anything more than the narrow-minded bigot you are right now.”

Burch’s mild anger turned into snarling fury. “Don’t you ever call me that again.”

“What will you do?” she taunted, taking care to move out of his reach.

“Give you that spanking I promised.”

“Do you always beat people who disagree with you?” she flashed back at him.

“Not when they‘re adults.”

The Devil flew all over Sibyl. “You’re nothing but an ill-bred saddle bum,” she raged. “Is your brain so limited that it can’t see more than one possible solution to any problem?”

“The only
limit
I have is the amount of stupidity and prideful ignorance I can tolerate.”

“At least I’m trying to learn. You’re so wrapped up in your own conceit you can’t see anything else. That’s the worst kind of ignorance. It’s a waste of time to try to show you anything.”

“What else could it be when all you offer me is empty words out of an empty mind.”

“There’s no limit to the cruel things you’ll say, is there?” Sibyl asked, unable to completely stifle a sob of hurt. “You’re so determined to run this place alone you’ll do anything to prove your superiority.”

That tiny sob broke the chains of Burch’s anger. He didn’t need Sibyl’s reproof to regret his words. Why couldn’t he control his tongue? He never intended to say half the things that came out of his mouth.

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Don’t strain yourself to apologize,” Sibyl said, rebuffing him. “You’ve done nothing to make me think you didn’t mean it, and I have no more appreciation for empty words than you.”

“If you two
must
fight like tomcats all the time,” Augusta spoke calmly as she came down the hall, “you could at least decide what to do about the downstairs carpets.” They stared at her, silenced by the unexpected severity of her reproof. “Both of you should try to control your tempers. Once harsh words are spoken, they can never be withdrawn.” Her kind eyes held more understanding than they knew, but it was her unmistakable unhappiness that made them ashamed of their behavior.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Burch repeated, determined to apologize whether Sibyl wanted it or not.

“And I shouldn’t have moved your bed without asking you first,” Sibyl conceded.

“Now why don’t you ask Burch about the money for the Christmas party and the rest of the things we need for the house?” Augusta suggested to Sibyl.

“There’s no need to consult Burch about money.”

“I thought it might be nice,” claimed Augusta with a sigh of resignation.

“I have more than enough for what we need for
our
house,” she said with emphasis. “You can begin making the list.”

“That may take quite a while, dear.”

“Then the sooner we get started, the better. If we keep Lasso waiting too long, he might change his mind.”

“Lasso?”

“Mr. Slaughter has kindly offered to escort us to Cheyenne to do our shopping,” Sibyl said, catching Burch completely by surprise. “I declined at first, but you’re well enough now to be left by yourself for a week or so. Ned can see to your meals.”

“There’s a woman living up the creek I can have come in. She can’t cook as well as you, but it’ll be better than Ned.”

“Then I guess there’s nothing to keep us here.”

“How are you going to get there? It’s a long way.” Sibyl appeared to be more angered than pleased by the question.

“Just enjoy your bachelor days. You don’t have to give me a thought for the next week.”

“How could I forget you when I can’t even recognize my own house. I feel like I’m in Virginia.”

“You should be pleased to find yourself in an elegantly furnished house, particularly since you didn’t have to spend any money or lift a finger to do it.”

“I suppose it
is
possible for you two to stand here arguing for me rest of the day, but I see no reason for me to stay and listen,” announced Augusta. “It has become quite tiresome.” With that she turned on her heel and walked off, completely flabbergasting her niece.

“Do as you wish,” Burch growled, and he went into his room, slamming the door behind him.

“Oh, dear,” sighed Augusta when Sibyl followed her to her room, “I so hoped you two could learn to get along.”

“If you’re implying that you hope I’ll marry mat insufferable egotist, you’re going to be greatly disappointed,” Sibyl promised. “He gets worse every day.”

“There was a time when I thought that would be an ideal solution,” her aunt replied wistfully, “but since Burch’s injury, I’ve come to realize that it’s a forlorn hope.”

“I should think so.”

“I never wanted you to be unhappy, to marry a man you found unattractive, one you disliked, or one you thought so full of evil intentions. I could never wish such a fate on anyone, especially not a niece I love so dearly.”

“I never said that he was unattractive or that I disliked him,” Sibyl countered, feeling an unaccountable need to defend Burch, “and I don’t think he’s ill-intentioned.”

“Forgive me for misinterpreting you,” begged Augusta innocently, “but I thought that was the meaning of your words, even if those weren’t exactly the ones you used.”