Felicia Andrews Page 21

  "He wasn't, " she said brightly. "He was a white man."

  At that moment Fae rumbled in with an announcement about dinner, and the guests moved quickly to their accustomed seats. Trevor automatically took a step toward the head of the table, stopping himself just in time as Amanda stood behind the chair and waited for Alex to take his place at the other end. She had seen the movement, saw the brief but sour look her son sent in Eagleton's direction, and held her breath as she gestured to the chair on her right. Eagleton only nodded graciously and accepted the place without comment.

  Amanda decided then that he had greatly misjudged her.

  The rest of the evening, however, passed without major incident. Trevor was careful not to dominate too much of the conversation, though there were naturally a number of questions from those who had not been beyond the Rockies about the California coast. Amanda was pleased to see that he knew whose evening it ostensibly was, and whenever things seemed to center too much on his own travels and experiences, he somehow managed to turn them deftly into probes about Alex's plans for the future.

  All in all, she thought with satisfaction when the brandy and cigars were passed around, it seemed to have gone well.

  There was a minor gaffe when Trowbridge tried a little too hard to extract from Eagleton the nature of his work, but again it was Trevor's sense of timing that threw the question back at the editor who then proceeded to regale the company with gruff humor, telling the story of how he had started his paper.

  And when Emily Trowbridge, still feeling the effects of her pre-dinner drinking, attempted an open flirtation that rapidly proved to be an embarrassment to everyone except Amos-- who noticed nothing beyond the food on his plate-Amanda managed to stifle the effort with an only partially humorous verbal slap.

  And when it was done, Alex and Hope slipped away quietly for the ride back to the Longstreet ranch, knowing the still-partying guests wouldn't mind. Amanda smiled at the relief she'd seen on her son's face and took to the porch for a deep breath of fresh air. Her hands, she realized, were trembling slightly, and it wasn't until she caught the sharp aroma of cigar smoke wafting through the open door that she also realized she had not been able to taste one bite of Fae' s excellent dinner. Lord, she thought, am I all that tied up?

  Several minutes passed while she listened to the sounds of the world settling into its noisy, restful sleep, and another five before Grace brought Bess out to her for a good-night kiss.

  "Did you have a good time?" Amanda asked her, covering a smile with her hand at a cavernous yawn that greeted the query.

  Bess nodded sleepily. "Alex didn't pull my hair once. "

  "Good for him."

  "And that man has pretty hair. "

  "You mean Mr. Eagleton?"

  She nodded and did not protest when Grace scooped her up into her arms. "He's nice, Mother," she said as she was carried through the door. "But he isn't one of us, is he ."

  She stared after her in mute amazement, not at all sure exactly what the child had meant. Nevertheless the rather flat pronouncement was more than a little disconcerting, and she did not hear the footsteps on the porch until a shadow fell over her eyes.

  "Doug!"

  Mitchell was standing at the head of the steps, one hand gripping a rounded post, the other tucked deep into his gunbelt. "Evenin', Mandy," he said.

  She put a hand to her chest and glanced quickly over her shoulder. Then she grabbed hold of his arm and rushed him down to where his pinto was waiting, on the grass beyond the drive.

  "What are you doing here?" she hissed at him and suddenly averted her face when he leaned closer to her. "Damn you, Douglas, you're drunk!"

  ''I'm on m'rounds, " he said. And hiccuped.

  Her right hand clenched into a fist, and she brandished it at his nose. "You get on that horse right now, Douglas Mitchell, and you ride straight back to town . How the hell did Latham let you go in this condition?"

  Doug swayed alarmingly, and reflex made her reach out fo r him, grabbing hold of his waist and holding him until he regained his balance. When he saw what she'd done, he grinned lopsidedly and tried to embrace her.

  "No!" she said , keeping her voice as low as she could. She pushed him away, and he stumbled, falling against the pinto and grappling with the saddle horn to keep from falling to the ground.

  "Wasn't nice, Mandy," he said , thrusting himself upright.

  She spun around in a tight circle, her mind spinning with her in search of a solution, any way at all that would get him out of here before he was seen by any of the others. Through the open door she could see Manley posing in front of the fireplace, a glass in hand, the other raised dramatically overhead as voices were lifted in mocking laughter. She could not see Trevor.

  "Mandy."

  She turned around with eyes narrowed and lips taut. "Get out, Douglas! Get out of here before there's trouble!"

  His mouth opened, closed, opened again, and he belched. Then he hitched up his gunbelt and took a weak step toward her.

  "Out!"

  He waved at her slowly. "Oh, you don't have to take that . . . that tone with me, Mandy," he said, swallowing after nearly every third word. "I know that . . . that Eagleton is in there. I . . . know you don't want me to see . . . him . "

  "Doug, please?" She lowered her voice to a small girl's pleading, but it only served to furrow his brow.

  "I don't . . . trust him."

  "Fine. You can tell me about it in the morning. You'll be happy to know he's leaving on the first train. "

  " I . . . " He lurched forward, brushing her away effortlessly as he made his stumbling way toward the porch. "I want to talk to him . "

  "Amanda," said a quiet voice from the shadows of the porch, "are you having trouble?"

  "Trevor . . . I don't . . . I mean . . . " She passed a hand wearily over her face and let her arms drop helplessly at her side.

  Mitchell, after turning around slowly to find the source of the voice, straightened himself with exaggerated dignity and demanded that Eagleton step into the light spilling from the windows.

  "I don't think so, " Eagleton said calmly. "I think what you need, my friend, is a good night's sleep."

  Mitchell reached up to sweep off his hat, missed, and the momentum of the empty gesture turned him around in a half circle. Amanda wanted to weep, in rage and in sympathy, but she held her tongue when she heard Trevor laughing.

  "My friend, " he said, coming down the steps and taking Doug's arm, "I think we've both given Mrs. Munroe enough trouble for one night."

  Doug jerked his arm loose. "I don't give her trouble," he said.

  And before Amanda could stop him, he planted a wild-swinging fist into Trevor's midsection.

  EIGHTEEN

  The scuffle lasted only a few seconds.

  Eagleton was not caught entirely by surprise, having obviously expected something of the sort from the drunken sheriff. He took the blow well, was staggered backward just a step before his own left hand swung high and hard over his shoulder and caught Mitchell on the side of the jaw.

  Mitchell's head rocked back, he stared, and crumpled slowly to the ground.

  From inside the house Doc Manley laughed hysterically at one of his own jokes.

  Amanda, breaking the freeze that had held her, ran to Doug's side and knelt by his head, shaking her own and muttering curses at him in exasperation and affection. When she looked up, Eagleton was watching her closely.

  "Well?" she said. "Aren't you going to help him?"

  He hesitated, one hand absently rubbing his stomach, before reaching down and grabbing Doug's shoulder. He hauled the man to his feet and held him until some semblance of consciousness returned, then struggled with him to the pinto. Amanda walked helplessly along, trying to keep a hand on Doug's waist as though it would be a comfort, stepping back when Trevor flung him up and over his saddle. The pinto stirred, but did not move until the reins were pulled over his head and wrapped around the saddle horn.

 
"How good a horse is it?" Eagleton asked.

  "He knows what to do, " Amanda answered but could not help wincing when he slapped the animal's rump and stood to one side as it ran for several yards before slowing into a careful, almost lazy walk. Doug, draped over the saddle with head and legs swaying to the horse's rhythm, was too painful to watch, and Amanda turned away, hugging herself.

  ''I'm sorry," Trevor said.

  "It wasn't your fault. "

  Trevor stroked his chin thoughtfully, put a hand on her back, and guided her to the porch. "He's a curious man, that one."

  She shrugged.

  "I don't think I'd like to come up against him when he's sober. "

  They stood facing the open door, their shadows stark on the flooring. Then Eagleton took her arm and pulled her to the deeper shadows in front of the study. His arms encircled her shoulders and he kissed her, hungrily, his palms ever more urgently caressing her back until she began to squirm.

  "Trevor, " she gasped, breaking away for a breath.

  ''I'm leaving in the morning, damn it!" he whispered harshly. "God knows when ''I'll be back. "

  She was going to tell him he had made his choice when he'd decided against seeing her the day before, but she held her tongue, knowing that his response would sound so reasonable that she would end up feeling guilty that she had even brought him here tonight.

  "Come back with me, " he said, nuzzling her shoulder, her neck, her ear. "Come back with me, Amanda. I've found the hotel's back door. "

  There was a moment when she was ready to accept . . . but it was only a moment. She saw herself sneaking through the dark alley behind the hotel, slipping into a shadowed doorway, creeping up a narrow flight of stairs like a thief. She shuddered, and what erotic impulses she had felt faded like water drained into dry soil.

  "No, " she said, though she offered herself for another touch of his fiery lips.

  He stiffened, pushed her away without breaking his hold and stared down at her eyes. She could see anger, and she could see a peculiar shade of cold. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not find disappointment.

  "It wouldn't be as bad as you think, Amanda," he said gently.

  "Maybe not, but you'd not be able to convince me." She lay her cheek on his breast. "I don't want it to be that way, not this time. " Her head shook quickly. "Not that it was the last time. That's not what I meant. But this . . . no, I don't think I could."

  "You have a curious sense of morality, Mrs. Munroe. Were I a more suspicious man, I would think that you were only using me when we first met. I would think that being away from your sheriff for so long made you start looking for-"

  She wrenched out of his grasp and, before she knew what she was doing, slapped him. He did not move. One hand fluttered toward his cheek but did not reach it; instead it clenched into a loose fist that settled slowly to his waist. For a long and frightening second they stared blankly at each other, stared and measured until he gave her a yielding nod and an admiring smile.

  "I apologize, Amanda, " he said with a sketched bow.

  Amanda was holding her stinging hand tightly to her stomach and barely heard his apology, barely gave it recognition. At the moment of contact she had seen all that she had dreamed shattering into pieces of black glass that fell unnoticed into the deeper blackness of the night that pressed hard on her shoulders, hard on her dreams. She had not meant to do it. She had only wanted to say something equally insulting in return, but her hand had moved of its own volition and there was no stopping it.

  Just as now there was no stopping her suddenly grabbing his shoulders and pulling herself up to his lips-briefly, desperately, searching for the fire she had tasted before.

  "Amanda, 1- Oh!"

  They whirled around to see Emily standing in the door light.

  "Oh, Amanda, I'm terribly sorry. It's just that . . . well, Bill wanted to hear about those seal things again, and I thought-"

  "It's all right, Em, " she said, putting an arm around her waist and taking her back inside. "We were just talking. " She lifted her head to the guests watching her carefully and smiled. "Seals? Why in heaven's name would you want to know about seals?"

  There was only a single light left burning as Fae and Grace cleared away the last of the party's debris. They worked in silence, avoiding each other's gazes, neither one of them turning as much as a half profile to the still open front door.

  Outside Amanda and Trevor walked slowly down the drive toward the gate and the road, Trevor's rented horse walking slowly behind them. They spoke very little, most of it in sentences that were not completed because neither had the strength to work through to the end. While they had been cheerful enough for the remainder of the evening, presenting to the company the picture of a perfectly contented couple, she had sensed the birth of a strain of tension between them.

  There was no single word or glance that would confirm it, no meaningful gesture or impatient touch of an arm or a shoulder, but it was there nevertheless, and she did not know how to break it.

  Eagleton yawned and grinned an apology though the grin was virtually lost in the darkness of the absent moon. The horse snorted and tossed its head. At the broad gap in the railed fence that was called a gate, though there was none there to close, they stopped. Eagleton fussed with the set of his hat.

  "The train leaves at nine," he said after clearing his throat into a loosely formed fist. "After such a night I wouldn't be surprised if I missed it."

  "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," she said.

  They turned to each other and waited. And finally Amanda dropped into his arms and lifted her lips to his. She blocked all thought of self-admonition, all doubt, all suspicion. There was only the touch of his mouth against hers, his hands that roamed over her back in slowly widening circles until the heels brushed against the back swell of her breasts. She gasped and pressed into him. Every inch of her flesh seemed to strain for a touch, a kiss, toward a point where she was positive she would explode into fragments to be taken by the wind.

  And just as she wondered where he could take her, he eased. He slowed. His kisses faded from desire to gentle brushings, and his hands fell away t9 cup the curve of her waist.

  No, she thought; but his arms had stiffened and she could not draw herself closer. No. Please.

  "Will you see me off?"

  Damn it, I'm not one of your toys!

  "Amanda, did you hear me?"

  She took a deep and painful breath, puffed her cheeks slightly, and blew out a faint sigh. "I heard you. "

  His hug was so fraternal she almost clawed him.

  "You're a better man than I, if you can get up that early. I don't know how you people do it out here."

  "Will you stop it?" she hissed suddenly, slapping at his chest to push him away. "Will you stop treating me as if I live in some foreign country? This is . . . this is Wyoming! It is a part of the United States! I have heard about electricity and Mr. Edison and the bulb. I read Century Magazine and I know who Henry James is, and if that doesn't mean anything to you, then you should know that I've also read that book by Mr. Whitman that everyone thinks is so horrid. I am not a foreigner, Trevor! And I am not as good a man as you because I am a woman, and goddamn it, the way I feel now that does not exactly put you on the top of the goddamned heap!"

  She turned away abruptly, breathing heavily and hugging herself to keep from feeling the tremors racking through her. And worse, she could feel him smiling in the dark, knowing that everything she had mentioned was scarcely proof of . . .of whatever it was she was trying to prove.

  He touched her shoulder, and she shrugged the touch away.

  Now you're being silly, she scolded herself, but she did not face him

  "Amanda. Amanda, I am truly sorry if I've insulted you. I have . . . I don't expect you to believe this now, but I have been through quite a lot these past three days, and there are a lot of things that I still do not understand.

  "You say you do not live in a foreign c
ountry, and that's true, but what you don't understand is how differently you and your people act, all of you here in the West-and I do not count California in that territory. It's difficult to deal with such openness, such frankness. I'm just not used to it."

  She heard, then, the hint of a self-deprecating smile in his voice.

  "In my business, Amanda, one feints and parries and bluff s and . . . and tantalizes. Sooner or later one gets down to business, but not quite so rapidly as you all do out here. I did not do very well in Denver, Amanda, because I'm still learning the language, if you'll excuse the expression. I have fences to mend now, and the most important of them is the one you've put up between us. "