Johanna Lindsey: A Man to Call My Own

Chad Kinkaid had ridden off, but, apparently, Amanda didn't think that he would abandon them there as their driver had done. That would never occur to someone as self-centered as Amanda.

Marian wasn't nearly as positive of that and quickly walked around the hotel to the back of it to make sure he was just going to collect the stage horses. She gave a sigh of relief a few moments later when he rode out from between two of the buildings farther down the street and into the field where the horses were grazing. All five of them were still there, too, though widely scattered.

She watched for a few minutes as he started to gather them together. One gave him trouble, didn't want to be put back to work. He removed a looped length of rope hooked to the back of his saddle, started twirling it in the air above his head, then let it fly toward the horse. The loop at the end landed perfectly over the horse's head and tightened with a yank before he could shake it off.

Marian had heard about lassoing, but she'd never had an opportunity to witness it before. The baker had apparently called it right. Chad Kinkaid was a man who knew how to work with cattle and horses. A cowboy, and the first one she'd actually met since arriving in Texas. He undoubtedly knew the area and would be a perfect escort. If only he weren't so handsome as well...

Like most handsome men, he'd probably try to woo Amanda. They all did. If they thought they had the least chance with her, they made the effort. She was just too pretty for them not to try. A few of those she had kept dangling over the years, whom she actually encouraged, didn't even know what a shrew she was. If she wanted them to keep coming around, she showed them only her best side. She was very good at deceiving men.

Chad Kinkaid wouldn't stand a chance though. He just didn't fall into the handsome and rich category that was mandatory for Amanda. Marian hoped that after her sister calmed down some, she wouldn't decide that Chad would make an amusing diversion. If she turned on the charm for him, he was bound to fall in love with her, and that would be really too bad for him.

It wasn't likely, though, that Amanda would calm down, at least not until she was on her way home to Haverhill. She was going to be her nasty self until then, and everyone around her was going to feel the sting of her displeasure because she simply couldn't stand for anyone not to be miserable when she was miserable herself.

Amanda really did hate this trip and the reason for it. Having to live with their new guardian and abide by her dictates already had her hating their aunt, and she didn't even know her yet.

Neither of them had anything but a vague memory of her, Kathleen had left home when they were so young. What Amanda hated most was that she couldn't marry whom she wanted to, that she'd have to have Kathleen's permission first. Their father would have let her have her choice, no matter whom she chose, because he'd always given her anything she wanted.

Their aunt wasn't likely to be that generous, would take her duty seriously just because it was a new and unexpected duty. At least, Marian would look at it that way, so she took it for granted that Kathleen would, too.

But hopefully Chad would see Amanda for what she was and not be intrigued by what he might think were merely the rantings of a spoiled brat. Still, Marian would have to take her usual precautions and discourage him as well. Because much much worse could happen if for some strange reason he turned his interest in her direction instead.

She went back into the hotel to pack. She found Ed Harding before going upstairs and asked him to let Mr. Kinkaid know that there were only five horses to collect, so he wouldn't waste his time looking for the sixth. She'd thought briefly about telling him herself, but decided the less contact she had with him the better.

She didn't have much to pack, none of them did. There had been no bureau or closet anyway, so they'd been mostly just living out of their trunks. Two were Marian's, one was Ella Mae's, the other four were Amanda's. She had been loath to leave any of her personal valuables and trinkets behind, even though their home in Haverhill hadn't been closed down, but left with a caretaker to guard against theft.

They were finished and waiting on the porch again before the five horses were hitched to the stage. At least she and Ella Mae were. It was actually a good opportunity to get Chad Kinkaid annoyed enough with her to dismiss her completely from his mind.

He was fiddling with the harness on the lead horse when she approached him, and asked, "Do you have proof that our aunt sent you to escort us?"

He glanced sideways at her, but then put his attention back on the horse. "I mentioned your aunt, you didn't," he pointed out, his tone indifferent.

"Well, yes, you did, but everyone in this town knows that we recently lost our father and are traveling to live with our aunt."

That got his eyes on her again with a narrowed frown. "I've never set foot in this town before."

"So you say, but—"

"Are you accusing me of sneaking into town in the last day or so, hearing your tale that 'everyone' knows about, and cooking up a plan to abscond with you and your sister?"

Put that way, it sounded really horrible. He'd have to be the worst sort of person to cook up such a plan. She winced mentally. She should nod in agreement. She couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't need to. He was already furious with her.

He reached inside his vest to pull out a letter he had stuffed in a pocket there. He literally shoved the letter in Marian's face.

"This is how I knew where to find you, Miss Laton, and having not found you where you were supposed to be, I've spent every day since tracking you down."

There was definitely some censure in those words, and even worse in the tone. He was put out, extremely, that he'd had to go to a lot more trouble to fetch them than he should have had to. Marian found herself blushing even though it wasn't her fault that they hadn't been in Galveston as they should have been. But he was even more put out over her accusation. Well, that had been the whole point, hadn't it? To have him dislike her and, thus, ignore her henceforth.

The letter was the one that Albert Bridges had sent to their aunt. Of course, Marian hadn't doubted he was who he said he was. She hadn't needed proof.

But she pretended to be satisfied with the proof he offered and with a sniff and a shove of her spectacles more tightly to the top of her nose, she said primly, "Very good. I'm glad we are in capable hands," and she walked away.

It was probably his annoyance that made him say to her back, "Capable? No, just my hands." At least, she hoped it was just his annoyance.

CHAD DIDN'T HAVE TO make that run so fast. There'd been six hours of daylight left and the next town with a stage depot in it could have been reached before dark at a normal pace. But the horses were fresh, and he was still angry, so they arrived an hour before nightfall. He took the rest of his anger out on the depot employee who tried to get out of supplying them with a regular driver at no extra cost, and even wanted to keep the coach they already had in their possession. Not likely. The way Chad saw it, the sisters were owed a free ride all the way to Trenton as compensation for the ordeal the last driver had put them through.

The ladies were put up in a hotel for the night—a decent one. At least he heard no complaints from them. Which hadn't been the case for most of the day. The ride he'd given them had produced a heck of a lot of screaming from inside the coach, which he'd ignored. Probably all from that schoolmarmish spinster with the overactive imagination.

Three whiskeys later in the nearest saloon, and he finally stopped grinding his teeth. He still wasn't happy. He was stuck with women, not girls, and three of them. He should have asked for clarification from Red before he set out. He shouldn't have just taken her remark about "girls" to be an accurate description of her nieces. He should have said, "hell no," to doing her this favor, but unfortunately, it was too late for shoulds and shouldn'ts.