Laredo was tired; he’d put in a full day and his thoughts were heavy. In addition, he was worried about Savannah and how the animosity between the two brothers would affect her. She was the one stuck in the middle between two angry men, struggling to maintain the peace. One brother was stubborn and unyielding, the other manipulative and demanding.
He wished there was some way he could protect her.
Twice Laredo had to ask Richard to turn out the light. “Give me five minutes,” was the response both times. The light Laredo could handle; it was a small matter to turn on his side and put his back to the harsh glare. But the drunken singing and guitar strumming weren’t as easily ignored.
By midnight he’d had enough. He threw back the covers, walked over to the wall and flicked off the switch himself. “You got a problem with that?” he challenged. His day had started at five that morning and he desperately needed to sleep.
A tense silence followed. “Whatever,” Richard muttered. He dropped or shoved something onto the floor, and the crash echoed through the room. Frankly, Laredo didn’t care. He was through with the niceties as far as Richard Weston was concerned.
Laredo awoke at dawn, showered, shaved and was preparing for his day when he happened to notice Richard. He stopped, squinting as he took a closer look. He’d heard movie stars and the like used such devices, but he’d never personally seen one.
Richard Weston lay sprawled across the bed, his arms and legs dangling over the edge of the small mattress. He wore silk pajamas, and of all things, a black satin sleep mask to protect his eyes against the sunlight. Never in all his life had Laredo seen a more incongruous sight in a bunkhouse.
Shaking his head, he stopped in the barn to check on Roanie before he made his way to the kitchen for coffee. Squatting down, he gently tested the roan’s leg, working with practiced hands, exploring the damage to the delicate muscle. The swelling was down and the pain had apparently lessened.
After coffee and a solitary breakfast, Laredo worked in the rose garden; he installed the trellises he’d built earlier in the week and transplanted some shrubs Savannah wanted him to move. She hadn’t come outside and he guessed she was still busy in the house. Actually he hoped she’d treat herself and sleep in. She must have been exhausted yesterday, cooking for her ungrateful brother. He gritted his teeth just thinking about the other man.
Shortly after noon Richard wandered out of the bunkhouse, looking as if he hadn’t been awake more than a few minutes. His hair was mussed and he yawned as he strolled across the yard, his shirt unbuttoned. He wore canvas shoes without socks.
Before going to the house for lunch, Laredo decided to rewrap Roanie’s leg and apply the ointment again. He was half-finished when he felt someone’s presence. He turned around and found Grady standing outside the stall watching him.
“I understand I’m in your debt,” he said with the pride of a man who preferred to owe no one. He looked tired and drawn, as if he hadn’t slept much. For the first time since making Grady’s acquaintance, Laredo felt sorry for him.
“No problem,” he said, straightening. He rubbed his hand down Roanie’s back, reassuring the gelding that all was well.
Grady lingered. Apparently there was something else on his mind. “Savannah told you about the ghost town, didn’t she?”
“She mentioned it,” Laredo said stiffly.
“I thought she might have.” Grady leaned against the stall door. “Listen, I haven’t made my feelings any secret. I don’t like you, Smith. Nor do I trust you. A man who steals gets no respect from me.”
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t do it,” Laredo said, although he doubted Grady would believe him.
“I have even less respect for a liar.”
Laredo tensed. If it wasn’t for Savannah, he’d have had his fist down the other man’s throat. He’d worked hard to prove himself, but apparently a good day’s labor wasn’t enough for Grady Weston.
“You should know I’ve asked Sheriff Hennessey to do a background check on you, although I suspect Smith is probably an alias.”
Laredo’s hackles were already raised, but defending himself again would be a useless waste of breath. He exhaled sharply. “Fine. To be fair, if Savannah was my sister, I’d do the same thing. You’re looking to protect her. I can’t blame a man for that.”
If Grady was surprised, he didn’t show it.
“I’m pleased to hear you say that, because she needs protecting.”
Savannah’s brother had Laredo’s attention now. “What do you mean?”
“Unfortunately she mentioned finding Bitter End to Richard and he seemed far too interested. I heard the bastard when I was washing up for dinner. He was hinting that she should take him there.” He paused. “I don’t want it to happen.”
Laredo agreed with Grady. “She’s already promised me she wouldn’t return alone. I hope she doesn’t go with Richard, either.”
Surprise flickered in Grady’s intensely blue eyes. “So she did plan to go back.” He scratched the side of his head. “Why on earth would she do such a thing?” He looked to Laredo for the answer.
“The roses,” he said, amazed Grady hadn’t figured it out.
“She’s already got more roses than she knows what to do with. How could she possibly want more? What’s wrong with that woman? Why would she risk her fool neck over a few flowers?”
“She’s after old roses,” Laredo explained.
“Old roses.” The two words were part of a deep sigh. Grady seemed lost in thought for a minute and then his gaze found Laredo’s again. “I don’t want her going there with Richard or anyone else, for that matter. It’s not safe. Regardless of my feelings toward you, I care about my sister and I’d appreciate your help.”
“You might find this hard to believe, Grady, but I care about Savannah’s well-being, too.”
“Then keep her away from Bitter End.”
Laredo wasn’t sure he could do that. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll do what I can.”
Grady nodded wearily. “That’s all I ask.” He hesitated, glanced over at Roanie’s leg and then back to Laredo. “We could use a wrangler this time of year. Are you interested in the job?”
“I’d need to square it with Savannah.”
“That isn’t what I asked,” Grady said, his words sharp.
“I’m interested,” Laredo answered.
“Fine,” he said. “You can start after lunch.”
DAMN, BUT THE OLD TOWN LOOKED good. It was midafternoon as Richard slowly drove Grady’s battered pickup down Main Street. He’d barely been back twenty-four hours, and it felt as if he’d never left. Well, not quite, but close enough. He’d thought about returning to Promise more than once—but not driving his brother’s clunky truck.
Despite the town’s familiarity, a lot had changed over the years. The savings-and-loan had a sign that alternately flashed the time and the temperature. Damn if that didn’t beat all. Next thing he knew the town would have its own Dairy Queen.
Luck was with him. Slowly but surely he’d manage to wriggle his way back into Grady’s good graces—enough, at any rate, to convince his big brother to let him stay for a while. It wouldn’t take long to win Savannah back, but then his sister had always been a soft touch. Grady, however, wasn’t nearly as easy. So far, it was Richard two, Grady zilch.
Because not only was Richard staying at the ranch, he had the truck. Okay, Savannah had been the one to give him the keys, but what Grady didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt him.
His brother was a fool. Grady could have sold that ranch ten times over and lived off the profits for years. Instead he’d half killed himself holding on to twenty thousand smelly cattle-filled acres. Richard had listened to the spiel about their forefathers struggling against impossible odds and all that garbage. So what? He wasn’t about to let the ranch or anything else tie him down. He had better ideas than following a bunch of senseless cattle around all that godforsaken land.
Richard
pulled into the first available parking spot and hopped out of the cab. Six years away, and he still knew this town inside out, recognized every street and practically every building. On the other hand, no one was going to recognize him dressed as he was. What he needed, Richard decided, was new clothes.
His first stop was Jordan’s Town and Country. Max Jordan who owned the place would be close to retirement by now.
“Max,” Richard said as he walked into the Western-wear store. He greeted Max as if they’d been the best of friends, slapping the older man jovially on the back. “Don’t you know me?” he asked. “Richard. Richard Weston.”
“Richard.” The other man’s eyes brightened with recognition. “When did you get back?”
“Yesterday. Listen, does Grady still have an open account with you?” He fingered the pearl buttons on a polished-cotton shirt and checked the cost, raising his brows at the price.
“That’s one of our designer shirts,” Max said, and steered him toward another less pricy rack of clothes.
Richard returned to the original shirt. “Do you have it in a forty-two?”
“I think I just might,” Max said with some surprise. He shifted hangers as he searched out sizes. “Yup, got one right here.”
“Great. Grady said I should buy what I need.”
“Not a problem,” Max assured him, grinning at the prospect of a big sale. “How’s Grady doing these days? I don’t see much of him.”
“He works too hard,” Richard said. And it was true. His brother needed to relax and not take everything so seriously.
“It’s good to see you, my boy,” Max said, watching Richard try on a pair of three-hundred-dollar snakeskin boots. They fit perfectly as if they were just waiting for him. “I’ll take these, as well.”
“Good choice.”
Grady wouldn’t think so, but Richard would pay him back. Eventually.
“I’ve got to say I still miss yours parents,” Max continued. “They were good people. My, but your mother knew how to cook, and your pa, why, he was the life of the party.”
The word party struck a pleasant chord with Richard. He didn’t imagine there’d been much celebrating around the Yellow Rose since he’d been away. Not with Grady being such a tightwad. He doubted his brother even knew how to laugh anymore, and Savannah ran and hid from her own shadow.
“Funny you should mention a party,” Richard said as the owner tallied the bill. “Grady’s throwing a bash to welcome me home on Sunday. You’re welcome to come. Bring the missus, too.”
“Who else’ll be there?”
“The whole town’s invited. Spread the word, will you?”
“Sure. It’ll be great for everyone to get together. Haven’t had a real party all spring, and it’s weeks yet until the big summer dance.”
Richard left soon after signing his name to the yellow slip. On the sidewalk outside Jordan’s he ran into Ellie Frasier. “Ellie,” he said and did a double take. “Little Ellie?” Only she wasn’t so little anymore. She’d been in junior high when he was a high-school senior, and he remembered thinking then that she was going to be a looker. He’d been right.
She stared at him blankly.
“Richard!” he cried and spread his arms wide. He was surprised she didn’t recognize him in his new shirt, hat and boots. His gaze lowered to her full breasts. He always had been partial to a well-endowed woman. Yup, he could see he’d come home in the nick of time. No ring on her finger, either. Not that it mattered. Often, forbidden fruit was all the sweeter.
“Richard Weston?”
“The one and only.”
She asked the same questions as Max—when he’d arrived, what he’d been doing, how long he planned to stay and so on. He was vague until he mentioned the party.
“Bring whoever you want, but be sure to save me a dance, all right?” He winked, letting her know he was interested.
“I don’t know… My dad’s been sick and—”
“Come, anyway,” he urged. “You need the break, and what better way to put your troubles behind you than to kick up your heels and party?”
Dancing. That meant music. They were going to need a band, and on short notice. That’d cost a few extra bucks, but hey, no problem. Grady was tight with a penny, but he probably had plenty of cash stored away. His older brother was too much like their father to cut it close to the bone.
“Who’s playing at the Chili Pepper these days?” he asked, referring to the best barbecue pit in town.
Ellie named a band he hadn’t heard of. He nodded and headed in that direction. While he was there, he’d arrange to have Adam Braunfels set up a barbecue. They were going to need lots of food. Naturally Savannah would want to cook up most of it herself, make salads and such; she’d insist on that the same way Mom would if she were alive.
He remembered his parents with fondness. Their deaths had put an unexpected crimp in his life, but Richard was a survivor. The years had proved that. He’d weathered his current troubles, hadn’t he? He was home and as safe as a babe in arms.
By the time Richard drove back to the ranch, he’d made a number of arrangements for the party. He’d ordered a dozen cases of beer and he’d made sure there was going to be plenty of soda pop for the youngsters. Millie over at the flower shop had suggested Chinese lanterns and agreed to set them up early in the afternoon. For a price, naturally, but she’d been reasonable about it.
Savannah was working in her garden when he arrived. She wore one of those long dresses of hers with an oversize straw hat and looked more like a nun than the big sister he remembered. Briefly he wondered what was up between her and that prickly hired hand.
“My, don’t you look beautiful this afternoon,” Richard said as he waltzed through the gate. “As pretty as one of your roses.”
She blushed and Richard was struck by how truly pretty she was. It surprised him.
“Listen, sis, I probably shouldn’t have done this, but I ran into some friends in town.”
Savannah straightened and dabbed the sweat from her brow. “I imagine everyone was glad to see you.”
“They were, but there just wasn’t enough time to visit with everyone the way I wanted. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few people over for dinner Sunday evening. You wouldn’t mind cooking up some of your prize-winning potato salad, now, would you?”
“For how many?”
Richard laughed and hugged her close. “Enough for about 150.”
CHAPTER 6
GRADY SWORE RICHARD must have invited the entire population of Promise to this so-called party. Neighbors and friends whirled around the makeshift dance floor, while others sat in the sunshine and exchanged gossip. Grady didn’t want anything to do with it.
The first he’d heard of Richard’s party was when he found Savannah in the kitchen this morning cooking her heart out. The next thing he knew, Millie Greenville from the local flower shop was stringing Chinese lanterns around the backyard and asking him when he intended to set up the tables. According to Millie, he was going to need at least twenty to accommodate everyone.
Before he fully comprehended what was happening, people started to arrive. The lead singer of the Hoss Cartrights asked him questions he couldn’t answer. Apparently they didn’t need his help because the next time he stepped out of the barn, they’d set up a stage, plugged in their sound equipment and spread a bale of straw across the lawn for a dance floor.
Richard, dressed in his fancy new duds, was in his element. Grady didn’t know what had possessed him to give in to Savannah’s pleadings to let their worthless brother stay on until his severance check showed up. Grady wasn’t entirely convinced there was a check. Furthermore he wondered where the hell Richard was getting the money to pay for his new clothes, not to mention this party. The guy was supposed to be broke. Well, maybe he had a charge card he hadn’t told them about.
As for Richard’s staying on, Savannah insisted it’d only be a few days. Richard needed to recuperate, rest up. To hear
her tell it, you’d think he’d been working on a chain gang for the past six years and was practically at death’s door. Judging by the energy his kid brother displayed on the dance floor, he’d recovered quickly, Grady thought.
The beer flowed free and easy. Grady was on his second bottle himself: the Chili Pepper’s spicy barbecue sauce sizzled on the large tin-drum grills, filling the air with a spicy smoky aroma. The dinner line extended halfway around the house.
Those who weren’t eating or dancing mingled in the yard, making themselves at home. Grady had originally decided not to participate in Richard’s party, but his standoffishness hadn’t lasted long.
Cal and Glen Patterson, neighboring ranchers and friends, arrived then. They sat with him on the porch steps. Grady couldn’t remember the last time he’d shot the breeze with the brothers. The three of them had grown up together and remained close to this day. As close as Grady allowed anyone to get.
“I didn’t think you’d ever welcome Richard back,” Cal said, leaning back, a beer in one hand. Cal and the sheriff were the only two who knew about Richard’s theft. It wasn’t the kind of information you shared about family.
“I didn’t welcome him back.” Grady wanted that understood right then and there. This party wasn’t his idea.
Grady noticed Sheriff Hennessey twirling Dovie Boyd around the dance floor. His opinion of the lawman had fallen several degrees when he’d failed to turn up anything on Smith. If the man was doing his job, he grumbled to himself, Frank would be down at the office right this minute, instead of partying.
“If you aren’t responsible for this welcoming, then whose idea was it?” Cal asked. “Savannah’s?”
“Nope. Richard organized it himself.” Grady took another swallow of beer. The cold brew helped relieve his growing sense of frustration. Again he wondered how Richard intended to pay for all this. Surely he wasn’t expecting him to foot the bill. That would be too brazen even for Richard.
His mistake, Grady realized, was giving in and allowing Richard to stay that first night. Now his younger brother had manipulated him once again—made it look as if Grady had welcomed him back with open arms. As far as he was concerned, Richard couldn’t leave soon enough.