Iris Johansen: This Fierce Splendor

“Sorry.” Patrick’s voice was cheerful as he entered the foyer and closed the door. “You look like hell. You ought to stick to singles if you don’t have the stamina for Rina’s little games. You’re not as young as you used to be, you know.”

“I’m young enough to take on a runny-nosed kid who doesn’t know better than to smart off to a man in my condition.” Dominic turned away and walked slowly down the corridor toward the kitchen. “And it wasn’t Rina or her games, as you call them. It was the whiskey. Lord, I’ve got to get a cup of coffee. What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were going back to Killara.” He turned his head too quickly and cursed softly as pain stabbed his temples and behind his eyes. He gave Patrick a sour look. “Don’t think you’re going to stay in Hell’s Bluff. A Saturday-night spree now and then is all right, but whorehouses and saloons are no good for a man in the long haul.”

Patrick’s lips quirked. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble to furnish me with proof of the wages of sin.”

“You go back to Killara tomorrow,” Dominic said flatly.

“If you’re so convinced Hell’s Bluff is the road to destruction, why don’t you come with me to Killara?” Patrick met Dominic’s gaze. The laughter had vanished from his face. “Come home, Dom. Why do you think Gran-da doesn’t give me hell for coming up here so often? He wants word of you. More, he wants you to come home, where you belong.”

Dominic averted his eyes and felt an ache somewhere within him that had nothing to do with his overindulgence of the previous night. Belonged. How long had it been since he’d belonged anywhere as he once had belonged at Killara? There had been times during the last nine years when he’d missed his home with a ferocity that had been sheer torture. “Someday.”

“When, Dom?” Patrick asked softly. “You’re not on the run any longer. You love Killara. Maybe more than anyone but Gran-da. Times aren’t good now. Killara needs you.”

Dom flinched as if he’d been struck. “And whose fault is it that times aren’t good? For God’s sake, I’ve practically destroyed Killara. Do you want me to come back and finish the job? You know damn well why I can’t come back to the ranch. Now drop it, Patrick.”

“Dom, I-” Patrick broke off and slowly shook his head. “You’re wrong. You’re a Delaney. You know we protect our own.” He paused. “Gran-da just wants you home.”

Dominic’s lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. “And what if protecting me ends with Cort or Sean or you dead or shot up? Will he want me then?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. “I think you know that, Dom.”

Yes, he knew his father wouldn’t count the cost when it came to any member of his family. It made the situation all the more painful. “Well, I’m not about to let any of you pay that kind of a price. I’ve cost Killara too much.” He violently pushed open the door to the kitchen.

Li Tong turned away from the stove with a wide smile as they came into the room, took one look at Dominic’s face, and nodded shrewdly. “Coffee,” he said with certainty, and hurried toward the cupboard, his pigtail bouncing. “Sit down, Mr. Delaney. I get.”

Dominic dropped into the wooden chair at the large round table covered in blue-checked gingham. He gave Patrick a sardonic glance. “Tell Da I’m doing fine. Who could ask for anything more? I make a decent living playing poker at the Nugget. I can sleep all day and spend most of the night pleasing myself.”

Li Tong placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Dominic and looked inquiringly at Patrick. When Patrick shook his head he moved silently across the large room toward the large woodburning stove.

Dominic deliberately changed the subject. “Speaking of pleasure, how did you like Dulcie?”

“Very talented,” Patrick said, his thoughts still far away from the playful redhaired strumpet who had shared his bed the night before. Then his frown disappeared as he grinned at Dominic. “Maybe you ought to try her. You wouldn’t need exotic variations to revive your flagging manhood if you concentrated on quality instead of quantity.”

“Flagging manhood!” Dominic took a sip of coffee before he turned his gaze to Patrick with the faintest flicker of a smile. “When you get a little older, my lad, you’ll find a true man has to challenge himself on occasion.” He grimaced. “And last night was definitely a challenge.”

“Were the ladies satisfied?”

“I don’t remember.” Dominic rubbed his temple. “But I think I was. And I’m sure Rina will let me know when she wakes up if she wasn’t.”

Patrick chuckled. “I agree. Rina’s not shy about voicing her displeasure.” Not that Patrick could recall a time when Dominic had had a problem pleasing Rina Bradshaw. The madam seemed more than happy to have Dominic’s company in and out of bed as often as possible. Patrick rocked the chair onto its rear legs and pushed his stetson to the back of his head. “Maybe you’re right. Could be this isn’t such a bad life after all.”

Dominic took another sip of coffee and looked straight ahead. “Don’t even think about it. You’re going back to Killara first thing tomorrow morning.”

Patrick raised a quizzical brow. “Oh, am I, Uncle Dominic, sir? And just what would you say if I decided to stay and join you in a life of decadence?”

“I’d knock you on your ass, tie you on your horse, and send you packing to Killara. Then I’d tell everyone in Hell’s Bluff if they allowed you in a saloon, a whorehouse, or even in the general store, they’d have to face me.” He smiled with a gentleness that was more menacing than anger. “Would you care to call my bluff, Patrick?”

Patrick gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Not at the moment. It would be a waste of time, as I have every intention of going home tomorrow. In fact, I would have been home tonight if my horse hadn’t thrown a shoe about five miles out of town.”

“You could have told me.”

Patrick grinned. “And missed the chance of goading dangerous Dominic Delaney? You have things too much your own way here, Dom. You need someone around to whittle you down a peg.”

Dominic suddenly smiled with engaging warmth. “You do a pretty good job. I’m lucky you aren’t around all the time, or I’d be whittled down to the size of a toothpick.” He finished his coffee. “Well, as long as you’re here you might as well enjoy the fruits of corruption for a little longer. Do you want to come over to the Nugget with me and see if we can get up a game?”

“Maybe later. I thought we’d go over to the hotel for a meal.” Patrick paused. “There’s someone there I want you to meet. She arrived on the stage this afternoon.”

“She?” Dominic smiled faintly. “Dulcie couldn’t have been as good as you say if you had to go out and find another ladyfriend so soon.”

“It’s nothing like that. You’re the reason she’s come to Hell’s Bluff. She said she had a business proposition for you.”

“Maybe Rina has been telling the world about my skills,” Dominic drawled. “Do you think she wants to hire me as her fancy man?”

Patrick frowned. “I’m not joking. She’s not like that, Dom. She’s kind of…” He shrugged. “She’s a lady.”

“Evidently one who has impressed you considerably.” Dom was studying him speculatively. “Pretty?”

“Good Lord, no.” Patrick shook his head. “She looks like the schoolteacher we had living at the ranch after Rising Star came. Spectacles and prim and proper as they come. She said you knew her father, Professor Edmund MacGregor.

“Christ, I thought I’d shaken off that little bastard.”

“You did. The lady said he had departed this world for a better place. Who was he?”