Clayborne Brides Series - book 3 - One White Rose by Julie Garwood

[Dalyia]

Douglas went to the window to check their progress. He muttered every blasphemy he could think of while he watched Boyle and a stranger who he assumed was one of the hired men coming across the yard. Douglas made up his mind to personally greet the two men. No way in hell was he going to let Isabel go outside. The terror tactics were going to stop. He actually smiled as he reached for the doorknob.
She watched him draw his weapon. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know what he was planning to do. There wasn't time to say a prayer for the sin she was going to commit. "Douglas* we're going to have to let Boyle wait. You need to look at Parker. I think he has a fever. Let Boyle wait*" she repeated in a much more forceful voice.
She waited until Douglas had bolted the door and gone rushing past her* and then she asked for God's forgiveness as she picked up the rifle and ran to greet Boyle. She had to get outside before Douglas realized she'd tricked him. He was going to be furious.
Boyle was just raising his gun to fire in the air when she stepped outside. She kept one hand behind her back on the doorknob* holding it closed* and propped the rifle under her arm. Her finger was on the trigger.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
Boyle grinned at her. Isabel could barely stomach the sight. The stranger sitting atop a black mount sneered at her. She couldn't see his eyes because the brim of his hat was pulled down low over his brow* but she could feel his gaze boring into her. Like Boyle* the stranger apparently didn't consider the rifle much of a threat. He had both hands stacked on top of his pommel.
"You ain't being very sociable* Isabel* pointing your rifle at me."
"Get off my land* Boyle."
"I'll go when I'm ready. I came here to tell you I'm going to be away for a spell. Don't go getting your hopes up 'cause I'm coming back. I'm going to my annual family get-together* and I expect I'll be away a good six weeks* maybe even longer. Now* I don't want you feeling lonely while I'm gone* so I'm putting my right-hand man in charge of you. His name is Spear."
He turned to his cohort* told him to tip his hat to his future bride* and then turned back to Isabel.
"Spear's going to watch out for you. I've put some of my men up on the mountain yonder to watch over you too. They'll be staying day and night. Are you comforted by my thoughtfulness? I wouldn't want you to think you had to leave while I was gone. Next year you'll be going with me. You understand what I'm saying* girl?"
The mockery in his voice infuriated her. "Go away*" she shouted.
He laughed. "I expect you will have had that thing by the time I get back. Your figure should be nice and curvy again by the time we get married. Are you about ready to accept your future* honey bell* and start begging me?"
She answered him by cocking her rifle. Spear's hand went to his gun* but he didn't draw.
Boyle jerked on his reins and rode away. Spear followed. "Didn't I tell you she was full of spit and vinegar?" Boyle shouted. "She'll beg me though* and she'll do it in front of the entire town. Just you wait and see."
Isabel didn't hear Spear's answer. Boyle's laughter drowned it out. She stood there on the stoop for several minutes* watching them leave… and gathering the gumption to face Douglas again.
She considered staying where she was for the rest of the day* but Douglas had other ideas. She didn't hear the door open. She did feel herself being pulled backward though* and the grip on her waist* even with the padding* felt like a vice. Fortunately* she had enough presence of mind to put the safety on the rifle before she dropped it.
He caught it before it hit the floor* kicked the door closed* and turned her around to face him before he let go of her.
The padding around her waist dropped to the floor* and she kicked it out of the way. She had already determined the strategy she would employ. From the look in his eyes* she knew he wasn't going to be reasonable* and since her only defense was to retreat or attack* she chose the latter.
She took a step forward* planted her hands on her hips* and frowned up at him.
"You listen to me* Mr. Clayborne. If you had gone outside* you would have tried to shoot both of them* and one of them might have killed you. And just where would Parker and I be then* I ask you? Boyle has friends* remember? If you'd killed him* they'd come looking for him* and we would have to fight twenty-some men off while trying to protect an infant. I'm a good shot* and I imagine you are too* but I'm also a realist* and there's no way we could get all of them before we were killed. Am I getting through to you yet?"
She guessed she wasn't when he spoke. "If he comes here again* you aren't going outside to talk to him."
"I knew you'd be stubborn about this."
"You lied to me* and I want you to promise me you'll never do it again."
"Now you've done it. You woke the baby. You go get him."
"Neither one of us is moving until I get your promise. You have any idea how scared I got when I thought Parker was sick? Damn it* Isabel* if you ever lie to me…"
"If it meant saving your hide* I'd lie again. We should be celebrating now* not bickering. Didn't you hear what Boyle said? He's finally leaving. That's wonderful news."
"I'm waiting."
"Oh* all right. I promise never to lie to you again. Now* if you'll excuse me* I'll go to my son."
"I'll get him."
All Parker needed was a dry bottom* and as soon as Douglas changed him* the baby went back to sleep.
Douglas couldn't get Spear off his mind. From the look of him* Douglas knew he was going to be a much more dangerous threat than Boyle could ever be.
Isabel noticed how quiet he was during supper and asked him to tell her what he was thinking about.
"Spear*" he answered. "Boyle doesn't worry me nearly as much as his new hired hand does."
"I disagree. Boyle's cruel and heartless."
"He's also a coward."
"How do you know that?"
"He preys on women* that's how I know. He isn't going to be a problem to get rid of now that I know what his biggest flaw is."
"He has at least a hundred flaws* but you still can't kill him. You'd spend the rest of your life in prison… or hang* God forbid."
"I won't kill him. I've thought of something worse. I'm kind of looking forward to his day of reckoning too."
"What are you going to do?"
"Wait and see."
"Is it legal?"
He shrugged* then said* "I wonder if Boyle has hired any other new men."
"Do you mean like Spear?"
He nodded. "Since Boyle was nice enough to let us know he has men watching the ranch* I'm going to ride up in the hills every night and listen in on their conversation for a little while."
"Is that necessary?
"Yes* it's necessary*" he insisted. "Parker's going to be eight weeks old soon and Dr. Simpson said he would be strong enough to move."
"He also said ten weeks would be better."
"Is Parker putting on any weight?"
"Of course he is."
Douglas wasn't convinced. "Every time I pick him up* I realize how fragile and tiny he is. He doesn't feel any heavier to me."
"Do you forget how big you are? No wonder he doesn't feel heavier to you. He is getting stronger every day* but it's still too soon to take him out in the cold night air."
"We might have to chance it*" he argued.
"I won't put him in jeopardy."
"And staying here isn't doing just that?"
"I really don't want to talk about this now."
"Too bad*" he snapped. "We're going to talk about it. You have to listen to reason. My brothers will help protect you and Parker* and it's best if we leave while Boyle's away. I'll make sure he really left town before
She was vehemently shaking her head. "Parker's too little to be taken out."
"If the doctor thinks we should risk it* will you be reasonable then?"
She had to think about it for a long while before she finally agreed. "As long as you don't change his mind for him. Don't try to talk him into it* Douglas."
He agreed with a nod. "Do you have any idea what you want to do when you leave here?"
She still hadn't made up her mind about the future. She could either move back to Chicago and teach at the orphanage or stay in Sweet Creek and secure a teaching position in town or in nearby Liddyville.

[Dalyia]

The future didn't frighten her. It was leaving the past behind that made her ache so. She was a realist and she knew she had to leave the ranch because of the dangerous spot where her late husband had insisted their home be built. Eventually the flood waters would wash the cabin away. Yes* she knew she had to leave* yet the idea of packing up and walking away made her feel like such a failure. The land and the home were the fulfillment of Parker's dream. He had died protecting it* and* God help her* where was she going to get the strength to leave his dream behind? Douglas wouldn't understand the anguish she felt* and she didn't want to explain it. "I don't want to discuss it now."
"You're going to have to face the future sooner or later."
She got up from the table and hurried into the kitchen. "I have time to decide* now that Boyle's leaving."
"No* you don't have time* unless you've lost your mind and believe anything that bastard tells you."
"Do you like cake? I thought I'd bake one and you could have some when you get back from town."
"For the love of God* you've got to face facts* not bake."
She pushed the curtain back so she could see him. "I want to bake now." Each word was said in a slow* precise monotone. "I work problems out in my mind when I bake. Do you like cake or not?"
She looked mad enough to shoot him if he told her no. He gave up trying to make her be reasonable. "Sure."
Douglas left the ranch a few minutes later. He checked on Boyle's lookouts before he headed into town and didn't arrive at Simpson's house until midnight.
The doctor was waiting at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and his pistol in the other.
"You're late tonight*" he remarked. "Sit down and I'll get you some coffee* son. How's the baby doing?"
Douglas pulled out the chair* straddled it* and told the doctor not to bother with coffee.
"Parker's doing all right* but Isabel's recovering from a cold. What should we do if the baby catches it?"
"Keep him warm…"
"We've been keeping him warm. Isn't there anything else we can do? What if he gets a fever?"
"Douglas* it won't do any good to snap at me. The baby's too small for medicine. We just have to hope and pray he doesn't get sick."
"I want to get them both out of that death trap she calls home. If I'm real careful* couldn't I…"
He stopped trying to plead his case when Simpson shook his head at him.
"It's a miracle that baby's surviving* and that's a fact* coming early the way he did. Do you realize how you'd be tempting fate by taking him out at night? And where are you thinking you'll take them? Boyle will turn Sweet Creek upside down searching for them* and you don't dare risk going to Liddyville because you won't know who Boyle has in his hip pocket. I know we've been over this before. Boyle's got friends in Liddyville too* and someone will hear about your arrival. Folks gossip with one another. I'm telling you* it's too dangerous."
Douglas could feel a pounding headache coming on. "What a mess*" he muttered.
"Is Isabel anxious to leave?"
He shook his head. "She knows she has to* but she won't talk about her future yet. She keeps putting it off". It's damned frustrating."
"I know it is. I've got some more bad news for you*" Simpson said. "Boyle went and hired himself a new man. He goes by the name of Spear* and he's got a real mean look about him. I nosed around to find out what I could and heard that Boyle met Spear when he was on one of his annual trips back to family in the Dakotas. By the way* Boyle's leaving tomorrow morning. I heard him telling Jasper Cooper he was putting Spear in charge while he's gone." The doctor took a drink of his coffee* and then said* "No one in town suspects Isabel's gotten help. Time's on your side because you've got at least another month to fatten that baby up and get him thriving before Boyle comes back."
"You told me the baby could be moved when he was eight weeks old."
"I also told you ten would be better."
"If I could bring help in now* couldn't—"
"Think it through* son. You don't want to put Isabel and her son in the middle of a war* do you? No* of course you don't. Look on the bright side*" he suggested. He ignored Douglas's incredulous look and continued on. "You've done fine for over seven weeks now* and I'm sure you can hold out a little longer without any trouble at all. Then you can send for help and get Isabel and her son out of there. I still don't cotton to the notion of taking that baby out at night* but the more weight he has on him* the better his chances will be. With Boyle away* it should get easier. Do you see? It isn't all grim* is it?"
"Hell* yes* it is."
Simpson chuckled. "She's getting to you* isn't she* son?"
Douglas shrugged but didn't say a word.
"I can see it plain as day. Are you thinking about falling in love with our girl?"
"No." He gave the denial with passion and conviction.
It wasn't a lie because he wasn't "thinking" about it. He already was in love with her.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Nine
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Douglas's life was miserable. He had never experienced such acute frustration before* and needless to say* he didn't like it at all. He was also angry with Isabel most of the time. Fortunately* she didn't know how he felt* and he was certain she didn't notice how he stared at her whenever she was in the room. The doctor was right when he'd told Douglas that she was too pretty for her own good.
He tried to stay away from her as much as possible. He vowed to stop trying to get her to acknowledge the physical attraction between them. It was wrong to do so and he knew it. Besides* it was apparent that she wasn't ready to admit that her marriage had been less than satisfactory or that Parker had had a few glaring inadequacies. If she was determined to elevate the man to sainthood* that was just fine with Douglas. From now on* no matter how ignorant* incompetent* and foolish he personally believed the man had been* he would keep his opinion to himself. What right did he have to criticize the dead anyway? And why did it bother him that she was so devoted to Parker's memory?
Because she obviously still loved Parker.
Douglas recognized he wasn't being logical. The issue bothering him was loyalty. He had always liked people who proved they were loyal* especially when it wasn't easy. They were several notches above everyone else in character. Like his family… and Isabel. Yes* Isabel. She continued to be loyal to her dead husband* and the truth was* Douglas didn't expect less from her. Still* did she have to be so blindly loyal? She had given Parker her faith* her love* and her undying loyalty* and he had failed on all counts.
It wasn't going to matter to Douglas any longer. Just as soon as the baby put on a little more weight* he would get the two of them out of Sweet Creek* take care of Boyle and his hired gunslingers* and then go back home* where he belonged. Until that day arrived* he planned to be polite but distant with Isabel.
That was easier said than done.
The days were unbearable* for as soon as he fell asleep* his mind was filled with erotic dreams about her. He couldn't control his thoughts when he was at rest* and he soon got to the point where he dreaded closing his eyes.
She'd made it worse for him by demanding that he stop sleeping on his bedroll and use her bed. She had a valid argument. She was awake during the day* and if he moved little Parker's bed into the outer room* Douglas could sleep without interruption.
The problem wasn't the noise. He didn't want to be surrounded by her light* feminine scent* but he'd go to his death before he told her so. She wouldn't understand anyway* and because he didn't want to hurt her feelings* he tossed and turned* gritted his teeth* and wondered how much torture a man could take before he snapped.
The baby was the only joy in his life. Parker was slowly putting on weight and seemed to be getting stronger with each passing day. Although it didn't seem possible* he grew louder as well. Douglas didn't think infants developed personalities until they were much older* around five or six months* but Isabel's son proved to be as extraordinary as his sister* Mary Rose* when she'd been a baby.
Parker was thinner than Mary Rose* but he was still able to exert his power over both adults by simply opening his mouth and screaming for service.
Douglas had given his heart to the little tyrant. Admittedly there were times when he was pacing back and forth in the middle of the night with the baby up against his shoulder that he wanted to pack cotton in his ears just to get a moment of blissful silence. Yet there were also times when Parker had his fist wrapped around one of Douglas's fingers* gripping it tight. Douglas would look down at the baby sleeping so peacefully in his arms and feel the tremendous bond that had formed between them. He had helped bring Parker into the world and* like a father* he longed to watch him grow.
Oh* yes* Parker was a joy to be around. His mother wasn't. The physical attraction to her kept getting stronger* and though he tried to convince himself that she was untouchable* the pretense didn't work. After living together so intimately for eight weeks* the tension and frustration had become palpable.
Isabel had a different point of view. She was certain Douglas couldn't wait to be rid of her. He could barely stomach being in the same room with her* and no matter how she tried to get his attention* he blatantly ignored her. If she accidentally touched his arm* or not so accidentally moved closer to him* he became tense and out of sorts.
His attitude upset her more than she wanted to admit. Heaven help her* she was even having indecent dreams about him* and in every single one of them* she was always the aggressor. She couldn't understand why she wasn't dreaming about her late husband. She should be* shouldn't she? Parker had been her dearest friend. Douglas was a friend too* but he was the complete opposite of her husband* for while Parker had been sweet and gentle but somewhat impractical* Douglas was passionate* sexy* incredibly virile* and practical about everything from childbirth to politics. He was filled with confidence* and for the first time in her life* she felt as though she had someone who could* and would* do his part. Until Douglas had come along* she had carried the burden alone.
She wanted him in a way she had never wanted her husband* and that was painfully difficult for her to admit. Mating with her husband had been a necessary duty to produce a child* which both Isabel and Parker wanted* but neither one of them joined together with any enthusiasm. She had been overjoyed to realize she was pregnant* but she'd also been relieved. After Dr. Simpson confirmed the diagnosis* neither she nor her husband ever again reached for the other during the night.
Isabel ached over the loss of her dear friend* but she didn't miss what she had never experienced… until Douglas came into her life.
She wanted to dislike him just to stop herself from having such inappropriate daydreams about him* yet she also dreaded their eventual separation.
She wasn't the only one filled with confusion. She was certain she was confusing God as well. She prayed that Douglas would leave. She prayed that he would stay. Hopefully* God would be able to sort it all out.
Late one afternoon Douglas caught her bathing. She had assumed he was sound asleep* since the bedroom door was closed and she'd been as quiet as a mouse while she filled the metal tub with water she'd heated over the flames in the hearth. She didn't want to awaken him* so she had eased into the water and washed every inch of her body without making a single splash or once sighing out loud. She had just retied the ribbon holding her hair atop her head* leaned back* and closed her eyes* when she heard the telltale groan of a floorboard.
She opened her eyes just as Douglas walked out of the bedroom.
They both froze. Too stunned to speak* she could only stare up at him in true astonishment. He looked thunderstruck* making it more than apparent he hadn't expected to find her stripped bare* sitting in a tub of water with her shoulders and toes peeking out at him.
He didn't have all his clothes on. She noticed right away. His legs were braced apart. He was barefoot and wore only a pair of snug buckskin pants he hadn't bothered to button. Dark curly hair covered his chest* and when her gaze began to move lower* she forced herself to close her eyes.

[Dalyia]

She finally found her voice. "You forgot to button your pants* for heaven's sake."
She had to be joking. He wasn't stark naked; she was. He didn't look at her for more than a second or two* but it was still long enough for him to see golden shoulders* pink toes* and damn near everything in between.
Ah* hell* she had a sprinkle of freckles on her breasts.
He got even with her for her inadvertent torture the only way he could. He turned around* stomped back into the bedroom* and slammed the door behind him.
The noise awakened the baby* infuriating her. She was suddenly so angry with Douglas* there wasn't room for embarrassment* and if she hadn't regained her wits in the nick of time* she would have chased after him wrapped in only a thin towel so that she could tell him she was sick and tired of being treated like a leper.
The baby had other ideas. By the time she dried herself off and put her robe on* he had worked himself into a rage. He was tearing at his mouth with his tiny fists while he screamed for his milk. The drawer was on the table* and as she lifted him into her arms* her anger intensified. Her sweet baby shouldn't have to sleep in a dresser drawer for the love of God* and just why hadn't Douglas done something about it?
After she had changed Parker's diaper and gown* she sat in the rocker and fed him. She whispered to him all about Douglas's transgressions. Parker's eyes were open* and he stared up at her until he had taken his fill. Before she'd even moved him to her shoulder* he let out a loud belch* closed his eyes* and went back to sleep.
She held him in one arm and rocked him until she got dizzy and realized how fast she was going.
Douglas came out a minute later. She didn't dare speak to him while she was so angry. She needed to calm down first.
She handed the baby to him without bothering to look up* changed the bedding in the drawer* then reclaimed her son and put him down for the night.
Supper was almost ready. She'd made a big iron kettle of thick stew and only needed to move the drawer* set the table and warm the biscuits.
He didn't stay inside long enough to eat. He told her he had chores to do* and left. She knew he was as angry with her as she was with him* but he wouldn't lose his temper no matter how much or how often he was provoked* and if that wasn't the most frustrating trait in a man* she didn't know what was. Did he have to be so stoic all the time? Come to think of it* he never ever lost his control* and that simply wasn't human* was it?
He exhibited amazing restraint. The longer she thought about that horrible flaw* the angrier she became. Then she burned the biscuits* and* honest to heaven* that was the last straw. He was going to eat them anyway* she vowed* even if she had to force them down his throat. He was also going to eat the stew she'd spent hours preparing.
Isabel knew she wasn't being reasonable. It didn't seem to matter. It felt good to be angry and frustrated and know that she could blow up at him and still remain perfectly safe. Yes* safe. He made her feel safe* and so gloriously alive* even when he was acting like a bad-tempered boar.
She decided to behave like an adult. She would take his supper to him in the barn as a peace offering. That act of thoughtfulness would surely get him out of his contrary mood. After he'd eaten* she would demand that he tell her what was bothering him and why he'd become so impossible to live with lately. If he wanted specifics* she had plenty.
She checked on Parker one last time* tied her hair back with a white ribbon* and then carried the tray to the barn. She practiced what she would say to him on the way. "I was sure you would be hungry by now* and so I…"
No* she could do better than that. She wanted to sound blase* not timid.
"I'll leave the tray by the door* Douglas. If you get hungry* help yourself*" she whispered. Yes* that was better* much better. Then she would suggest they sit down and talk when he was finished.
She straightened her shoulders and went inside. She spotted Douglas at the opposite end of the barn. He had his sleeves rolled up and was pouring a large bucket of water into a metal vat. Two empty buckets were on the floor next to him. He straightened up* rolled his shoulders to work the stiffness out* brushed his hands off on a towel he'd draped over a post* and went to Pegasus's stall.
She walked forward so she could see the stallion. She could hear Douglas whispering to the animal* but she couldn't hear what he was saying. She saw him stroke the stallion's neck* and Pegasus was letting him know how much he liked the attention by nuzzling Douglas's shoulder.
He knew she was there watching him. He'd have to be dead and buried not to hear all the racket she was making. She'd talked herself into the barn and was now obviously having difficulty holding on to the tray. She was either nervous or making the noise on purpose to get him to notice her. The glass was banging against the plate* and out of the corner of his eye* he could see the utensils bouncing up and down. He wanted to get past his irritation before he spoke to her. If he so much as looked at her now* he knew he'd lose his temper* hurt her tender feelings* and then feel rotten about it.
"Douglas* how long are you going to ignore me?" He finally turned around. "I thought I'd try to figure out why you broke your promise to me. You remember* don't you? I'm sure I asked you to give me your word that you would stay inside at night because I can't keep watch over you and be in the barn at the same time."
She put the tray down on the seat of the buggy to her right before answering him.
"Yes* I remember* but I thought you might be hungry* and I—"
He deliberately interrupted her. "Do you also remember why we thought it might be dangerous?"
"Douglas* you don't have to treat me like a child. I know exactly what I promised. I know why you were so insistent too. I told you that once… just once* some of Boyle's men got all liquored up and rode down the hill during the night* and that was when you suggested I stay inside."
"You left something out."
"I did?"
He gave her a look that let her know he didn't believe she'd forgotten. "You told me they tried to break into the cabin. Remember?"
She knew he was right. She shouldn't have taken the risk. She should have stayed inside the cabin with her son. It was her duty to protect him. Oh* Lord* the Winchester! She'd left the rifle inside by the window.
"I wasn't thinking. There* are you happy? I admitted it. I've been preoccupied lately. Now* if you'll excuse me* I'll go back to my son."
She turned around and hurried out of the barn. "Isabel* where's the rifle?"
She didn't answer. He knew good and well where it was* since she hadn't had it in her hands when she'd come into the barn. He'd asked the question just to make her feel like an idiot. She certainly felt like one* and that made her angry with herself. If she hadn't been so distracted by Douglas* she would never have done such a foolish thing.
Douglas strode past her and checked on Parker. The baby was sleeping soundly in the drawer on the table. He would have moved him back to the bedroom* but his hands were greasy* and he decided to wait until he had washed first. Isabel stood by his side* looking down at her son. Douglas didn't say another word to her. The two of them were past due for a long discussion about her future* he decided* and just as soon as he had cleaned up* he planned to sit her down and force her to make a few decisions.

[Dalyia]

He grabbed a thick* clean towel* a bar of soap* and headed back to the barn to take a bath.
He scrubbed the dirt from his body* but the cold water didn't rid him of the fever he'd felt for weeks now* every time he thought about Isabel. Unfortunately* that was most of the days and nights. No* cold water didn't help. He could have washed in snow and still burned inside to touch her.
He needed to get away from her as soon as possible* but he couldn't do that until she told him where* in God's name* she wanted to go. She had procrastinated as long as he was going to allow. Before the night was over* she was going to make a decision. Douglas knew he needed to get a grip on himself. He knew how too. All he had to do was get the hell away from Isabel* because she was turning him into a raving animal.
Things were going to change from this moment on. He put on clean clothes* turned down the lantern light* and went to have the long overdue talk with Isabel.
She was waiting for him.
He took the tray with the untouched supper to the kitchen. "We need to talk*" he whispered so he wouldn't disturb the baby. "First* I'll put Parker away."
"Back in the dresser?" Her voice was brittle.
"This isn't the time to get into one of your moods* Isabel. We need to…"
"One of my moods? I can't believe you just said… Leave the drawer on the table and come with me. I want you to see something."
She hurried into the bedroom so he wouldn't argue with her. As soon as he came inside* she shut the door and then dramatically pointed to the bedroll on the floor next to her bed.
"Would you mind explaining why you slept on the floor today when there was a perfectly good bed a foot away? I think I know why* but I want to hear you tell me anyway."
"Why do you think I slept on the floor?" he hedged.
"Because the thought of getting into my bed was so repulsive you chose the hard floor instead. I'm right* aren't I?"
"No* you aren't."
He had the gall to scowl* and that infuriated her.
She moved to the other side of the bed to put some distance between them. "You don't have to deny it. I know you don't like being here. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me. What did I do to make you feel this way* Douglas? No* don't answer that. I think the time has come for you to leave. That's what you were going to talk about* wasn't it?"
He couldn't believe a woman could be this naive. She'd twisted everything around* and* honest to God* he couldn't figure out how she had come up with such outrageous conclusions. Hadn't anyone ever told her how pretty she was?
"You really don't have any idea what I'm thinking* do you?" He was astonished by the revelation.
She took a deep breath* ordered herself to stop criticizing him* and then apologized. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. If it weren't for you* I don't know what Parker and I would have done. I felt so powerless then. I should be thanking you for your help* and my only excuse for acting like a shrew is that I haven't been feeling myself lately."
"Why is that?"
"Why? Take a look around* Douglas. My life is in shambles. I don't know how—"
"Now* Isabel* it isn't that bleak."
He was going to remind her she had a handsome son who was getting stronger every day* but she didn't give him time to get another word in.
She wasn't in the mood to be reasonable and didn't particularly like being contradicted. Her voice became shrill when she continued on.
"Of course it's bleak. My son is sleeping in a dresser drawer* for God's sake* when he should have a proper cradle* and I shouldn't have to be terrified every time it rains. Don't you think I know where Parker had the cabin built? Everyone in town tried to talk him out of it* but he was determined to prove them wrong. There* are you happy? I've admitted he wasn't perfect. Neither are you* Douglas. You're rude and cold and so horribly reasonable all the time you make me want to scream."
"You are screaming* sugar."
"Don't you dare start being sweet. Don't you ever lose your composure?"
"Is it my turn yet? You keep asking me questions* but you don't let me answer them."
He sounded cool and collected* as always. It drove her to distraction. "Don't you have any idea how much you frustrate me?"
"You want to talk about frustration?" He let out a harsh laugh and came toward her. "You're looking at it* Isabel. You've got to be blind or just plain nuts not to know what the mere sight of you does to me."
Once he got started* the words poured out and he couldn't make himself stop.
"I sleep on the floor because your scent is on the sheets* woman* and it makes me so damned hot I can't sleep. All I want to think about is making love to you. Now do you understand?"
He was suddenly pressing her up against the wall and glaring down at her. "Are you getting scared yet? Or have I stunned you speechless by shocking your sensibilities? What the hell are you smiling about* Isabel? I want to take you to bed. Got that? Now aren't you frightened?"
She slowly shook her head. "Isabel* I'm begging you. Tell me to leave."
"Stay."
"Do you understand…"
"Oh* yes* I understand*" she whispered.
She threw her arms around his neck.
He gently cupped the sides of her face and slowly leaned down. "I tried to stay away from you…"
"You did?" she asked with a long* breathless sigh.
"I wasn't strong enough to resist you. It was those sexy…"
"Freckles?"
"Yeah* freckles. A man can only take so much temptation before he's got to take a bite out of the apple* sugar* and when I saw you bathing* I…"
"Douglas* are you ever going to kiss me?"
She had barely gotten her question out before his mouth came down on hers. It wasn't perfect; it was much* much better. Her reaction was instantaneous. Her entire body responded to his kiss* and when his tongue brushed against hers* she imitated his action and kissed him with all the pent-up passion inside her.
He kept her glued against him while he continued to try to devour her. It would be over before he'd even begun to do all the things he wanted to do if he didn't get her to slow down* yet the thought of stopping so he could explain was simply too much for him to accept.
Neither one of them remembered undressing the other or getting into bed. Douglas thought he might have thrown her there in his haste to cover her with his body. Then again* she might have thrown him down. She seemed to have acquired an amazing amount of strength in the past few minutes as she forced him to let her kiss every inch of his chest.
He didn't give her any resistance. Dear God* how he loved her. She was everything he had ever wanted in a lover.
The feel of her warm skin against his own was incredibly arousing. She was so perfect everywhere. He loved the way her breasts fell against his chest* and the way she gasped each time he moved against her drove him wild. She didn't try to conceal the fact that she was as hot for him as he was for her* and so he let go of his control and his inhibitions.
He kissed her neck* her shoulders* her breasts* and then slowly moved lower.
"What are you doing?" she whispered* her voice raw with passion.
"I'm kissing every freckle on your body."
She thought those were the most romantic words she'd ever heard. "Oh* my*" she whispered* over and over again* each time he touched or kissed or stroked her.
He overwhelmed her senses until she was incapable of thought. She thought he asked her to tell him if he did anything she didn't like* and she really tried to answer him* to tell him that nothing he did could be wrong* but every time she tried to speak* he did something more wonderful to her* and she couldn't get more than a sigh or a whimper out.
If he meant to drive her crazy* he succeeded gloriously. When at last he finally came to her* she felt a twinge of pain as he slowly moved inside her* and then he was part of her and holding her so tenderly* and there wasn't any pain* only pleasure.
He savored each whisper* each movement* and when at last the need to find release became unbearable* he forced her fulfillment by increasing the rhythm and tightening his grip.
Ecstasy such as she had never experienced before began with a ripple* then increased within a heartbeat to an explosive climax. She clung to him as the world fragmented into a thousand brilliant stars* the wonder of their lovemaking filled with beauty and joy.
It took several minutes for him to recover. He held her close to him* nuzzling her neck and lazily stroking her.
"Are you all right?" he whispered.
She didn't answer him* but she did sigh against his ear* and he knew* before he found enough strength to lift his head and look at her face* that she was happy.
He was arrogantly satisfied to know that he had exhausted her. She fell asleep clinging to him* her long legs entwined with his* her face nestled in the crook of his neck* and for this moment in time* she belonged completely to him.
It would have to be enough to last a lifetime.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Ten
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Lying in the darkness with Isabel in his arms* Douglas was plagued with guilt. Making love to her had been a terrible mistake. He had taken advantage of her when she was most vulnerable and totally dependent on him to protect her and her son. He hadn't been honorable. What in God's name had he been thinking? Hell* he hadn't been thinking at all* at least not with his head* or he would never have reached for her. His sin was unforgivable* and yet he knew that he would never forget how she had felt in his arms. The memory of her was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
Now he was going to hurt her by making her face reality too. Circumstance had thrown them together* but in another time and place* she would never have chosen him. When she returned to the outside world* she would realize it.
He was the complete antithesis of her late husband.
Parker had been a dreamer. Douglas was a realist* and until recently* he had also been a reasonable man.
The baby's demand for attention forced Douglas to put his grim thoughts aside. He changed Parker's diaper* and then rocked him while he explained the torment he was going through. The baby stopped fretting for several minutes and stared up at him with what Douglas interpreted as intellectual curiosity.
He felt as though he would soon lose his son. From the moment Parker had come into the world* Douglas had loved and cherished him as though he were the boy's father.
The baby was lulled back to sleep. Douglas kissed his forehead* told him in a whisper that he loved him* and put him back in bed.
He gently shook Isabel awake. She put her arms around his neck and tried to pull him down into bed with her. He kissed her brow* insisted she open her eyes* and promised she could sleep just as soon as he returned from his nightly ritual.
"Do you have to check on Boyle's men every night?"
"Yes."
She was too sleepy to argue with him. She followed him to the front door so that she could secure the lock after he'd left.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Same as usual*" he answered. "I'll listen to their conversation for a little while* and then come back."
"They haven't said anything important yet*" she reminded him.
"I'm still checking."
She yawned* assured him she would stay awake* and kissed him. "Be careful."
The lure of her soft body was difficult to resist. An hour later he was thankful he'd kept to his routine* for Boyle's men were in a talkative mood. As usual* they were also drunk. The topic was different tonight* because they weren't railing against Boyle for making them stay out all night. The target for their resentment was Isabel. Their anger was fully directed on her. If she weren't such a stubborn woman* she would realize how rich and powerful Boyle was and do as he ordered. Their boss wanted her to get down on her knees and beg him to marry her* and it was the unanimous opinion of the hired hands that it was only a matter of time before she did exactly that.
Douglas had heard all the complaints before* but never with such venom. Then one of the men suggested they all go along with Spear's plan to break into Isabel's home and take her over to Boyle's ranch.
"Spear's wanting to impress the boss* and he's sure that putting the woman in his bed ought to do the trick. He thinks Boyle will give him a big bonus* and if everyone goes along with the plan* he promised to share some of the money with us."
Two of the men were dead set against the plan. One harped on the fact that they hadn't been paid for the last month's work because Boyle was making them wait until he returned from the Dakotas.
It soon became apparent to Douglas that even the men who were against Spear's plan feared him. It would be only a matter of time before they became too frightened not to agree.
Hearing what the men said about Isabel infuriated Douglas* and he was only able to control his rage by forcing himself to remember that Isabel and Parker came first. When they were safe* Boyle and his men were all going to be fair game.
God* how Douglas looked forward to it.
Time had run out. Douglas made the decision to send for his brothers* and continued on to the physician's house.
As he expected* Simpson argued with him* but Douglas wouldn't listen to a word he said.
"Boyle might not be back for another week or two* and that baby needs every extra hour you can give him before you uproot him and take him out into the wild. He's too fragile to go anywhere yet."
"Do you know what will happen if Spear comes down to the ranch? I'll kill him* and then Boyle will come running with at least twenty men. Parker won't have any chance at all if a war starts. You know I'm right. Send the damn telegram tomorrow."
"God help you* son."
In the past* Douglas had always been blunt to a fault* and when he talked to Isabel the following morning* he reverted to his old ways.
He paced in front of the hearth until she joined him. She had her sewing basket in her hands and hurried to put it on the table so she could hug him.
He told her to sit down* and still* she didn't have any inkling of what he was about to say to her until she looked at his face.
"What's wrong?"
"We're what's wrong."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No."
"Yes*" he insisted. "I shouldn't have taken you to bed last night* and I want you to try to understand. I took advantage of you* and that was wrong. For God's sake* don't shake your head at me. You know I'm right. I could have gotten you pregnant* Isabel. It can't happen again."
She was stunned by his cruel words and the anger in his voice. "I won't understand*" she cried out. "Why are you saying these things to me? Don't you realize how much you're hurting me?"
"Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is. I could give you a hundred reasons why it was wrong."
"Give me one reason that makes sense."
"You felt obligated to me."
"Of course I felt obligated to you* but that isn't why
I wanted to make love to you. Don't do this. What happened between us wasn't wrong… It was beautiful… and loving… and…" She couldn't go on. Tears gathered in her eyes as she turned away from him. Did the hours they'd shared together mean so little to him? No* she wouldn't believe that. She couldn't.
"Once you've rejoined the outside world* this interlude will—"
"Interlude?" she whispered. "For the love of God* will you stop being so practical all the time and listen to your heart?"
"Stop being practical? Damn it* woman* if I'd been practical* I would have gotten you and Parker the hell out of here a long time ago* and I would have kept my hands off of you."
"I wouldn't have left. It would have been dangerous for my son. It was prudent to stay* and last night I wanted you as much as you wanted me."
She ran to him and tried to put her arms around him. He pulled back and shook his head.
"Will you try to understand? We were thrown together by circumstances beyond our control. You were desperate* and so thankful for my help you've mistaken gratitude for love. It's a bad foundation for a lasting commitment* and with time and distance* you'll realize I'm right. You must go forward with your son* Isabel. That's the way it has to be."
"Without you?"
"Yes."
He was through discussing the matter* and she was too devastated to try to make him change his mind.
She walked toward the bedroom* praying that he would follow her and say something that would give her hope for a future with him.
He didn't say a word. She turned back to him to plead one last time* but the words became trapped in her throat. The sight of him was as heartbreaking as his harsh words had been. He was standing in front of the hearth with his head bent* his hands braced on the mantle. The lines of his face revealed the anguish within.
He looked grief-stricken. Had he just told her goodbye?
"Douglas* does it matter that I love you?"
His silence was her answer.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Eleven
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Isabel and Douglas avoided each other as much as possible for the next two days. She was lost in her thoughts about a future without him and was desperately trying to accept his decision to leave her and Parker. He* on the other hand* was considering the more practical matter of keeping them all alive until help arrived.
He still hadn't told her about the plan he'd heard Boyle's men discussing* nor had he told her the wire had been sent to his brothers* but* God help him* it hadn't been for lack of trying. Each time he broached the topic* she turned away from him and walked out of the room to attend to her son.
He kept busy each day until it was dark enough for him to ride up the hills to check on Boyle's men.
She baked. By early evening of the second day* there were four pies and two cakes on the table. She was still at it when he got ready to leave.
"Could you stop stirring that dough long enough to listen to me?"
"Of course."
He realized it would be asking too much of her to request that she look at him. He knew how hurt she was* and he wondered if she had any idea how hard she was making this for him. He didn't ask her* for he had no wish to get into another discussion. If she cried again* it would kill him. His mind was made up* and he was convinced that he was doing the right thing. In time* and with distance separating them* she would understand.
"If you're not too tired by the time I get back* I think it would be a good idea for you to pack a few things to take with you when we leave."
"I'm not too tired."
"Bolt the door after me."
"No one's going to be watching the cabin tonight because of the rain."
"I'm still going to check."
"I love you* Douglas." She blurted the words out before she could stop herself. "I'm trying to understand why you would—"
He cut her off. "You're too upset to talk about this. When you can be more…"
"Practical?"
"Yes."
She came close to throwing the biscuit dough at him. She put the bowl down on the counter before she could act on the urge and followed him to the door.
Then she waited for him to kiss her good-bye* knowing full well that he wouldn't. As soon as the lock was latched* she burst into tears. Love wasn't supposed to be this painful* was it? How in God's name could she make him understand that what they had was real? Why was he throwing it away? She knew he loved her and that he believed with all his heart that he had acted dishonorably and taken advantage of her. He was wrong* but he was also a proud and stubborn man* and she didn't know how to change his mind. With time and distance would he come to his senses* or would he continue to believe he had done the right thing by leaving?
Please* God* don't let him leave Parker and me. Help him realize we were meant to be together.
The thought of a future without Douglas was unbearable* and within minutes she was doubled over and gasping for breath between heart-wrenching sobs.
She didn't hear Boyle's men until their horses came galloping into the yard. In less than a heartbeat* gunshots were fired and the cabin was riddled with bullets. The men were circling her home* shouting vile threats and obscenities at her while they continued to empty their guns.
Dear God* the baby… She had to get to her baby and protect him. She ran to him* frantic now to keep him safe. She was whimpering low in her throat as she lifted her son into her arms. She hunched over so that her body protected him and turned to an inside wall. A stray bullet would have to pass through her before it could get to him.
The noise was deafening. Gunshots were ricocheting off the walls* men were shouting* Parker was crying* and all she could think about was finding a safe place where she could hide her son.
There wasn't time to comfort Parker. He needed to be safe.
SAFE… Dear God* help me keep him safe… help me…
The wardrobe. Yes* the wardrobe was on an inside wall. Isabel ran to it* jerked the doors open* dropped to her knees* and frantically shoved the shoes out of her way.
"Hush now* hush now*" she whispered as she reached up and ripped her thick robe off the hanger and pulled it down to cover the hard wood. She placed Parker on top* jumped back up* and pushed the doors together* leaving only a crack so that air could get inside.
Less than a minute had passed since the first gunshot was fired* but her mind was screaming at her to hurry* hurry* hurry. She ran back into the living room* doused the lights* and cocked her rifle. With her back against the wall* she slowly began to edge toward the curtains so she could look outside.
The front window suddenly exploded into a thousand fragments. Glass shattered across the room as more and more bullets pierced the walls and the floor. A candlestick bounced across the mantel* crashed to the rug* and rolled into the fireplace.
And then there was silence* and that was far more terrifying to her than the noise had been. Were they finished with their game* or were they reloading their weapons? If they were drunk* they'd get bored quickly and leave.
Please* God. Please* God. Make them leave.
She edged closer to the gaping hole that once was her window. With the tip of the rifle barrel* she lifted the shredded drape and looked out into the night.
It was as dark as death outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance as rain pelted her face and her neck. She strained to hear every little sound and waited for one of them to come toward her.
Suddenly the sky was lit up by a bolt of lightning and she saw all six of them clearly. They had formed a line in front of her door and were less than twenty feet away from her son.
Spear's face loomed out at her* and in the gray* crackling light* his skin had taken on a ghoulish tinge* and his eyes* oh* God* his eyes* were as red as a demon's.
She threw herself back against the wall and took a deep breath so she wouldn't scream. She would kill him first.
A voice lashed out at her with the force of a bullwhip slicing through the stillness.
"Remember me* bitch? My name's Spear* and I'm in charge now. I'm through waiting on you. You hear me? I'm going to count to ten* and if you don't want me to hurt you* you'll get outside before I'm finished."
His voice was cold* deliberate* and filled with hate. He didn't sound drunk* and that made him all the more dangerous. Liquor wasn't ruling his actions; evil was.
"One… two… three…"
"Wait* Spear*" one of the others shouted. "Is that a baby bawling?"
"Son of a bitch*" someone yelled. "She went and had the baby."
Douglas slowly turned the corner of the barn and moved up behind Spear. He was in such a rage now* he had to keep telling himself to take his time.
"One of us ought to go inside and take the baby. Then she'll follow us*" the man on Spear's left suggested with a nervous giggle. "Go and get it* Spear. I ain't going in there and taking on that hellcat. You do it."
"I'll go get both of them*" his friend said. "I'm not afraid." His boast was promptly followed by his scream. "I've been bit*" he cried out. "I've been bit up my leg."
"What are you crying about* Benton? There aren't any snakes out tonight. You're just spooked* that's all."
Spear dismounted. "Both of you be quiet so I can hear the woman when she calls out."
"You think she's gonna invite you inside?" one of the men asked with a snicker.
Benton turned his mount and headed for the hills. Douglas could hear him sobbing as he rode away. He wondered how long it would take for the drunken fool to realize he had a knife lodged in the back of his thigh.
Spear was standing next to his mount* obviously trying to decide if he wanted to go inside or not.
Douglas hoped to God he'd try. Douglas wasn't going to let him get near that door* and if that meant killing him* Douglas wouldn't suffer any qualms. The bastard had terrorized an innocent mother* partially destroyed her home* and now believed he could drag her and her baby away with him. The mere thought of any of them touching Isabel or Parker sent Douglas into a black rage.
Move* Spear. Move.
Spear pulled his gun out of his holster* and that was a fatal mistake. He had taken one step toward the stoop when Douglas shot his right leg out from under him.
Damn* it felt good.
Spear didn't think so. He screamed as he went down to his knees. He frantically staggered back to his feet* whirled around* and swung his gun up to shoot.
Douglas shot the other leg out from under him. Spear fell forward* his gun clutched in his hand* and landed face first in the mud.
"Anyone else want to limp for the rest of his life?"
The venom in Douglas's voice* added to Spear's screams* was enough to convince the others to give up the fight.
Spear was wiggling around in the mud like a pig trying to keep cool. He shouted to his men to kill Douglas* as he rolled to his side* lifted his head* and took aim with his gun.
Douglas shot him in the center of his forehead. One of his friends went for his gun* but his hand never reached his holster. Douglas's next bullet cut deep into his shoulder. The man cried out and slumped forward.
"Throw your weapons on the ground*" Douglas ordered.
He waited until they'd obeyed his command before he called out to Isabel. "It's over now. Are you and the baby all right?"
He could hear the fear in her voice when she answered him. "Yes* yes… we're fine."
A few seconds later* light from the kerosene lamp spilled out into the yard through the window.
"We've got friends waiting up in the hills* mister*" one of the captives boasted. "If you've got any sense at all* you'll leave before they come riding down here and kill you."
"I'm guessing he's all alone*" his friend whispered.
"Guess again* jackass."
The voice was Cole's. Douglas was so happy to hear it he began to laugh. He didn't have to turn around to know that his brothers were standing behind him. He hadn't heard them approaching and would have been disappointed if he had* for any sound would mean that they had gotten lazy. Being lazy in the West would get a man killed.
"What the hell took you so long to get here?"
"I had to round up the others before we could leave*" Adam answered.
"Are you going to kill these men? You might as well since you've got your gun drawn and all."
"He isn't going to kill them* Cole."
"Glad you could make it* Harrison*" Douglas said.
"You should let us go* mister. Benton already got away* and he'll tell the others."
"Lord* they're stupid*" Adam said.
"I assume the man with the knife in his backside is Benton*" Harrison said. "Travis went after him. He figured you'd want your good knife back."
Douglas tossed his shotgun to Cole. "Tie them up inside the barn."
The cabin door suddenly flew open and Isabel came running outside with her rifle in her hands.
Douglas moved forward into the light. He took the rifle away from her so that she wouldn't accidentally shoot one of his brothers. He knew she'd seen them because she'd come to an abrupt stop and was staring beyond his shoulder* but after giving each one of them a quick glance* she turned her attention to Boyle's henchmen.
"Where is he?" she asked* her voice shaking with anger.
"Who?" Douglas asked.
"Spear. Did you kill him? Never mind. I don't care if he's dead or not. I'm going to shoot him anyway."
Douglas wouldn't let her have her rifle back. He made sure the safety was on* then threw it to Adam. "You don't want to shoot anyone."
"Yes* I do. I want to shoot all of them."
She grabbed hold of his shirt and held tight. "I'm going to shoot someone* Douglas. They… woke… my… baby… and they…"
She couldn't go on. The horror of what she had just gone through suddenly struck her full force. She collapsed against him and began to sob.
"We'll leave here* Douglas. I won't fight you any longer. We'll leave… We'll leave."

[Dalyia]

Chapter Twelve
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The Simpson kitchen was crowded with Claybornes. Trudy Simpson was making a fresh pot of coffee for her honored guests. She was thrilled to have the men at her table and wanted to prepare a feast to show her appreciation. The brothers had come to Sweet Creek to help Isabel* and that made them exceptional.
The men spoke in whispers to one another so that Parker wouldn't be disturbed. He was sleeping peacefully up against Cole's shoulder.
The doctor joined them a few minutes later. He dropped a large packet of yellowed papers tied together with a pink ribbon on the table in front of Douglas.
"I took these away from Isabel. It's after one in the morning* and I found her poring over them when she should be sleeping. Why don't you go through them for her? One of the papers has to be the deed to that useless land* and when you find it* I think we ought to burn it* for all the good it's done."
"How is she feeling* Doctor?" Trudy asked.
"She's tuckered out* but otherwise just as fit as can be. You needn't be worrying about our girl."
"It's a miracle this little boy made it*" she remarked. She put a platter of ham on the table and turned back to the counter to fetch the biscuits. "Why* he's no bigger than a minute. I don't believe I've ever seen a baby so tiny."
The doctor squeezed a chair in between Adam and Harrison and sat down. "He's not as small as I expected him to be* but he's got to stay put until he has more weight on him. Do you understand what I'm saying* Douglas? Isabel and her boy have got to stay here. Now* since you brought them to us* I'm wanting to know what you're planning to do when trouble comes calling."
"Meaning Boyle and his gunslingers?" Harrison asked.
Douglas had already told his brothers everything he knew about Boyle* and by the time he'd finished giving the details* they were all anxious to meet the man who had single-handedly terrorized an entire town. Cole was the most curious. He was also the most determined to end the tyrant's reign.
"I'll make certain the fight doesn't come into town*" Douglas said.
"How are you going to do that?" Dr. Simpson wanted to know.
"Mrs. Simpson* will you please stop staring at me?" Cole asked. "You're making me nervous."
Trudy laughed. "I can't help it. You look just like I expected Marshal Ryan to look. You've got the same color of hair and eyes* and you're as big as he's supposed to be."
"But you've never seen Ryan* have you* ma'am?" he asked* his exasperation apparent.
"It doesn't make any difference. The minister gave us a fine description of the lawman* and almost every Sunday during his preaching time he's told us another story of Ryan's courage."
"Shouldn't he be preaching parables or something from the Bible? Why would he talk about Ryan?" Adam asked.
"To give us hope*" Trudy answered. Her eyes got misty with emotion. "Everyone needs to have hope. And when Cole came strutting into my kitchen* I just naturally assumed he was Ryan. That's why I grabbed hold of him and kissed him."
"Ma'am* I don't strut. I walk. And I don't much like being compared to Daniel Ryan*" Cole said.
"Why not? The man's a legend* for heaven's sake. Why* the stories we've heard about him* the tales of glory—"
"Begging your pardon* ma'am* but I don't think it's a good idea to tell Cole any of those stories now. He doesn't like the marshal. Fact is* he doesn't like him at all*" Adam said.
Trudy's hand flew to her throat. "Oh* no* that can't be. Everyone likes him."
Douglas wasn't paying any attention to the conversation. He stared at the bundle of papers Parker Grant had left his wife. He didn't want to go through them* because every time he thought about her late husband* he became angry. Parker had subjected Isabel to hardships no woman should have to endure.
He shoved the packet across the table to his brother Adam. "You go through them. Pull out the important documents."
Adam immediately pushed the packet in front of Harrison. "You're the attorney. You go through them."
"Why does this have to be done now?" Harrison asked.
"Isabel wants to find the registration for the Arabians. She's got a mind to do something with the papers* but she won't confide in me. She can be stubborn* and you know how women can get a bug up their—"
"Doctor* watch your language please*" Trudy reminded him.
"I was only going to say women get a bug up their sleeve* Trudy."
She snorted with disbelief. Her husband quickly changed the subject to avert an argument. "What did you do with those Arabians?" he asked.
"Travis had something in mind. We left it up to him*" Adam explained. "Those sure are fine horses*" he added with a nod.
Harrison was hunched over the table* reading documents. Douglas was explaining the change the doctor would have to make in his routine until Boyle was taken care of.
"You're going to have to stay here until this is resolved*" he said.
"And just what will happen if anyone gets sick in the meantime? I have to go where I'm needed*" the doctor argued.
"Then two of my brothers are going to go with you. Cole* you stay in town with Adam and make certain no one gets near this house."
"That's going to mean killing some of Boyle's men*" Cole said.
"Then that's what you'll do."
"Who is Patrick O'Donnell?" Harrison asked.
The question caught the doctor's full attention. "Why in heaven's name would you be asking me about crazy Paddy Irish? Did you know him?"
"No* sir* I didn't know him* but his will is here* and his name is on this deed. I was wondering—"
Simpson wouldn't let Harrison continue. "Well now* son* I've got to tell you the story* just like I told Douglas* about Paddy Irish having the last laugh."
Douglas motioned for Harrison to hand him the will and the deed so he could read them while the physician retold the bizarre story about the crazy old Irishman.
The brothers were fascinated by the tale. Douglas was fascinated by the documents he held in his hands. He was rereading the description of the property Parker Grant had inherited from Patrick O'Donnell but still couldn't accept what he was seeing until he'd read the deed a third time.
Simpson had just finished his stpry when Douglas began to laugh. He tried to explain why he was so amused* but every time he began to speak* he was overcome with laughter again.
"Son* you're making me think you're as crazy as old Paddy Irish. What's got you so tickled?"
Douglas handed him the papers. Moments later* Dr. Simpson was also overcome with laughter.
"Good Lord above* there's justice in this sorry world after all*" he said as he wiped the tears away from his eyes.
"What's gotten into you two?" Trudy asked.
Cole stood up and began to pace around the kitchen with Parker. The baby had been awakened by all the commotion. "Lower your voices*" he snapped. "Parker doesn't like it."
Adam got up and took the baby away from his brother. "You've had him long enough. It's my turn."
"Paddy wasn't crazy* Trudy. Fact is* he was a very clever man."
"And so was Parker Grant*" Douglas acknowledged.
He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "Paddy filed a claim on a piece of land years before Boyle came along and settled here."
The doctor picked up the story then. "Boyle never did give the law a second thought. He liked to take what he wanted. He still does*" he thought to add.
"Well now* I reckon he'd only been here a little while when he decided to build himself a grand house on the top hill just outside of town.
"Everyone thought it was kind of peculiar the way Paddy would go out there every single day* rain or shine* to watch the progress being made. It took more than a year to finish it* almost two. Yes* sir* it did. The house was three stories high and had every fancy gadget inside you could ever imagine. A chandelier hanging in the dining room came all the way from Paris* France. Oh* yes* it was a palace all right* and Boyle meant to show it off."
"Where did he get the money to build such a grand house?" Adam asked.
"He rented out most of the land to those foreign barons who have gotten into the cattle business because it's so profitable. The cattle were driven up from Texas to graze on sweet Montana grass. He's made a bloody fortune over the years collecting his rent money."
"Only it wasn't his rent money. It was Paddy's. Paddy owned the land Boyle built his home on*" Douglas explained.

[Dalyia]

"He must have told Boyle the night of the party* because that's when the beatings began. I had to patch Paddy up so many times I lost count."
"Why didn't Boyle simply kill Paddy?" Cole asked.
"Paddy must have gone to an attorney and had a will drawn up. He was smart enough not to taunt Boyle without having some sort of legal protection* and knowing how that crazy Irishman liked to have his fun* I imagine he refused to tell Boyle who would inherit the land after he died. He certainly wouldn't have told him where the will could be found. Paddy was a shrewd one all right."
"Who did inherit?" Adam asked.
"I don't know who he was going to leave everything to when he first had the will drawn up* but you can see from this amendment that he had the will changed after he met Parker and Isabel. Probably because they showed him such kindness* he gave it all to them."
"Then Isabel owns Boyle's house and all the land?" Travis asked.
"Yes*" the doctor answered.
"The money Boyle collected from renting the land to the barons belongs to her too*" Harrison interjected.
Douglas nodded. "Either Paddy told Boyle right before he died who the land would go to* or Parker told Boyle after Paddy had died. Either way* it was a mistake. Whoever it was should have used the law to force the claim."
"Boyle wouldn't have listened to the law*" Simpson said.
Harrison disagreed. "A good attorney would have gotten a judge to confiscate the accounts at the bank. Boyle would have had to go into court and win before he could get his hands on the money again. He would have lost* of course* and poor men can't hire gunmen to do their dirty work."
All of a sudden* the Clayborne brothers were up and moving. Douglas and Cole both pulled out their guns at the same time and headed for the back door. Adam disappeared into the hallway with Parker* while Harrison stood in front of Trudy Simpson with his gun out.
Everyone waited in silence. Trudy jumped when a low whistle sounded from just outside the window.
A second later* Travis came strolling inside* looking weary but happy. He slapped Douglas on his shoulder as he passed him* tipped his hat to Mrs. Simpson before removing it altogether* and then sat down at the table.
Introductions were made* and Trudy did her best to make the latest addition to her table feel welcome.
"Are you hungry* young man? I believe I'll fix you a bite to eat."
"I don't want you to go to any trouble* ma'am."
Trudy had already turned away to fetch her skillet. The doctor poured Travis a cup of coffee and then sat down again. "You're going to eat* son* so you might as well accept it. My Trudy's got her mind set and her frying pan out."
"Yes* sir. I'll eat."
"Did you get my knife back for me?" Douglas asked.
"Yes. I tied Benton to a post inside the barn so he could drive the others crazy with his crying. I've never seen a man weep like that. Honest to God* it was disgusting."
Cole laughed. "We heard you coming up to the door* Travis. You're getting sloppy."
"I wanted you to hear me."
Adam came back into the kitchen with the baby. "Parker's hungry*" he remarked.
Douglas immediately got up* took the baby into his arms* and headed for the steps.
Trudy chased after him. "Now* hold on* Douglas. You can't go barging into Isabel's room. It wouldn't be proper."
"Trudy* he delivered that baby*" her husband called out. "I don't believe it's going to matter if he sees her in her nightgown now. He's been living under her roof for over two months."
"That was then* and this is now*" Trudy said. "Douglas* you had to deliver that baby because there wasn't anyone else around to do it. Things have to be more proper now though. I'll take the baby up."
She wiped her hands on her apron before taking the baby away from Douglas. He didn't give her any argument* for he knew that it would probably be better for Isabel if she didn't see him again. He had hurt her by making her face reality. In time* she would realize he had taken advantage of her* and he hoped to God that when that day came* she wouldn't hate him.
He leaned against the wall* folded his arms across his chest* and stared off into space as he tried to imagine what his life was going to be like without ever seeing Isabel or Parker again.
Harrison pulled him out of his bleak thoughts. "You delivered the baby?"
"Yes."
"Sit down and tell me what it was like."
"Why?" Adam asked.
"I want to be prepared for my son or daughter's birth. I'm a little… nervous about it. I don't like the idea of my wife having pain."
Douglas was thankful for the diversion. He straddled the chair to face Harrison. "You're nervous? I didn't think anything ever got to you."
Harrison shrugged. "Tell me what it was like*" he demanded.
Douglas decided to be completely honest. He leaned forward and whispered* "Sheer hell."
"What did he say?" Cole asked.
"He said it was sheer hell*" Adam repeated. "Stop joking* Douglas. Harrison's turning gray."
The brothers found that fact hilarious. Douglas thought he had pretty much summed up the experience* but upon reflection he realized it had only been hell for a little while.
"It wasn't bad*" he said. "I was scared at first* and then I was too busy to think about everything that could go wrong. Isabel did all the work* and when I held Parker in my hands…"
The brothers were waiting for him to finish. Douglas shook his head. He didn't want to share the memory. It belonged to Isabel and him* and it was all he would be able to take away with him when he left Sweet Creek.
"It was pretty miraculous* Harrison*" he admitted. "So stop worrying. Besides* you won't have to do anything. Mama Rose will help with the delivery."
"I plan on being with my wife when the time comes."
Trudy returned to the kitchen for the coffeepot* then circled the table refilling their cups.
"Thank you*" Cole said. "You know what I don't understand?"
"What?" Adam asked.
"The folks in Sweet Creek*" Cole said. "How can so many cower to one man?"
"One man with twenty-some gunslingers working for him*" the doctor said. "There aren't any cowards in Sweet Creek* but most of the men are ranchers. None of them could hold their own in a fight because they don't have the expertise. Just ask poor Wendell Border."
"What happened to him?" Adam asked.
"Wendell was coming out of church with his wife and two little girls when some men grabbed him. They forced him to kneel down in front of Sam Boyle. Wendell wouldn't beg for mercy* and that was when Boyle ordered them to break both of his hands. Folks tried to stop what was happening* but the hired thugs had their guns out and threatened to kill anyone who got in their way. Poor Wendell's family had to watch. It was a sorry day all right."
"Now do you understand why I was so overcome with joy when I thought you were Marshal Ryan* Cole?" Trudy asked. "You seemed to be the answer to our prayers."
Travis's eyes widened. "I bet you just loved being mistaken for Ryan*" he said.
"Everyone in town is going to make the same mistake I made*" Trudy insisted.
It was this innocent remark that gave Douglas his plan. Dr. Simpson was excusing himself when Douglas turned to him.
"Doctor* is there a jail in Sweet Creek?" Douglas asked.
"Yes. It's at the opposite end of town* near the stables. No one's been inside since the old sheriff put his badge on his desk and left town. Why do you want to know about the jail?"
"Cole's going to be using it*" he replied. "I don't think you'll want to hear any more details* sir. It could get you into trouble with the law."
"All right then*" the doctor agreed. "Come on* Trudy. The men need some privacy now. I've got a feeling tomorrow's going to be a hard day for all of us. We might as well get some sleep now while we can."
Douglas waited until the elderly couple had gone upstairs before he told his brothers what he wanted to do.
"Mrs. Simpson told me that everyone in town has been praying for Daniel Ryan to come and save them."
"And?" Cole asked.
Douglas grinned. "Tomorrow* their prayers are going to be answered."
Daniel Ryan* or rather Cole Clayborne masquerading as Daniel Ryan* came riding down the main street of Sweet Creek on Friday morning at precisely ten o'clock. He went directly to the telegraph office* where it was later reported he held a gun to Jasper Cooper's forehead to gain his cooperation in sending a wire to Samuel Boyle* informing him that his accounts had been confiscated.
At that very same moment* Harrison went inside the bank and presented to the officers in charge an impressive-looking document ordering them to remove all the money in Boyle's account to the bank of
Liddyville* where it would remain until the court determined ownership. The document was signed by a judge* but none of the officers could quite make out the signature.
The bank president* as it turned out* wasn't one of Boyle's followers. He didn't look too closely at the papers and didn't waste a minute transferring the money to Liddyville. He did do quite a bit of laughing though and* like Daniel Ryan* seemed to be having the time of his life.
Two of the cashiers helped print up a large sign* which they nailed to the hitching post outside the bank* notifying everyone that Boyle's money was gone.
Word spread like free whiskey* and within two hours at least fifteen of the twenty-five hired hands had left town for parts unknown. Their loyalty ran out with the money. Those who were determined to wait for Boyle to straighten out the situation were arrested by Marshal Ryan and two deputies* and duly locked in the jail.
None of what the Claybornes were doing was legal* a fact that Harrison pointed out at least a dozen times. Cole could get twenty years of hard labor for impersonating a lawman* and Harrison would be sharing the cell with him for falsifying documents.
Cole refused to worry about the consequences. It was his fervent hope that Ryan would hear he had an impersonator and come looking for him. Then Cole would finally get back the compass the lawman had taken from Mama Rose.
Douglas went after Boyle. He wouldn't let any of his brothers go with him and refused to give any details of what he planned to do. He asked Dr. Simpson to tell Wendell Border to bring his family to church the following Sunday* and to step outside at exactly eleven o'clock. There would be a surprise waiting for him.

[Dalyia]

Needless to say* that day the church was packed to the rafters. The Reverend Thomas Stevenson was thrilled to have a full house and decided to make the most of it. He threw out the sermon he'd prepared and preached about the fires of hell instead. He ranted* he raved* and he threatened. Anyone who failed to attend his church on a regular basis was doomed to spend eternity burning in hell. Oh* the reverend worked himself into a fine lather all right* screaming and pounding his fists on his pulpit while he worked the congregation into a frenzy of guilt and put the fear of God into their hearts.
He was right in the middle of screaming the word "damnation" when Wendell Border and his family stood up.
The preacher stopped in mid-shout. "Is it time then* Wendell?"
"It's going on eleven*" Wendell called back.
The crowd waited in breathless silence for Wendell to leave his pew and lead the way outside. His wife held on to her husband's arm and walked beside him* while their two little girls skipped along behind.
In their wildest speculations* none of the townspeople could have guessed what was going to happen.
Coming down the center of the street toward the church was Sam Boyle. Douglas walked behind him and prodded him forward with the barrel of his shotgun.
Folks started laughing. Boyle didn't look so fierce now. He was dressed in dirty long underwear and nothing else. He hopped from bare foot to bare foot with his head down* and even though the laughter drowned out all other sounds* everyone could see that Boyle was crying.
No* he didn't look like much of a threat to anyone now* not even to the children. The bully had been revealed at last* and only the coward remained.
Dr. Simpson told Isabel later that Douglas had found something better than death to punish Boyle with. He'd used his pride to destroy him.
Boyle cried all the way to the steps* then knelt down in front of Wendell and begged his forgiveness. Wendell wasn't in the mood to give it* and so he remained stubbornly silent.
The law-abiding citizens of Sweet Creek chased Boyle out of town. No one expected him to ever return* but if he did* they would measure out justice once again. His mantle of power had made him seem invincible to those he terrorized* but now the town had seen him for what he really was and stopped being afraid.
Peter Collins* the stableman* stepped forward to offer his services as sheriff. Cole* still masquerading as Daniel Ryan* took the time and trouble to swear him in.
The Claybornes left town a few hours later. Douglas left his heart behind.