He surprised her by giving her a lopsided grin, his gaze roaming over her figure. “Well, not like that you can’t.”
Trixianna looked down at herself. Her night rail was ripped and dusty, and the hem dragged in the dirt. Her hair lay tangled about her shoulders. Yet she didn’t mind Chance seeing her this way. She loved him regardless. It seemed right somehow, even knowing that it wasn’t proper in most people’s minds. She managed a choking laugh.
Chance cleared his throat. “I can get you back to Grand Fork before long without anyone the wiser.”
“Then what?”
“We can do this any way you like. It’s your decision.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can say I arrested the wrong woman or you got away or—”
“But wouldn’t that make you look inept?”
“Inept?” His mouth quirked in a lopsided grin. “Thanks for thinking of my reputation, but I’ll survive. After all, Mad Maggie West is supposed to be a dangerous woman.”
Trixianna’s temper flared with the mention of the criminal. “If you wanted me, Chance, then why are you marrying Fanny? Of course, what could I expect? You don’t even believe me when I tell you my own name.” Feeling hurt and rejected, she lashed out. “I’m setting out of this town. You’re nothing but a hypocrite, Sheriff Magrane. And right now, I don’t think I can watch you marry Fanny.”
“Dammit it all to hell.” Chance jerked his hat off his head and slapped it against the side of his leg. “You’re right. I am a hypocrite, a damned foolish one.”
Trixianna hadn’t expected him to agree. She stared at him. Her anger dissipated, replaced by deep sorrow and a heartsick feeling.
“We’ll work it out,” he stated.
“I don’t know how.” Trixianna followed Chance to his horse. He mounted, then pulled her up in front of him. They stayed off the main road on the way back to Grand Fork, making their way in abject silence.
Rider woke late, his bones aching, his mouth dry and his stomach grumbling. The house lay still as a graveyard. He didn’t have to be told he was the only one about. He didn’t think Chance had come home last night. And where was that beautiful, redheaded outlaw?
While he waited for the water to heat for a much-needed bath, Rider shaved, then explored the kitchen. He found the previous night’s cornbread and finished it off. He was just dressing after his bath when he heard a knock at the door. He debated answering it at all. He didn’t know where Chance or his captive were.
Oh, well. It was about time the gentle townsfolk of Grand Fork found out that Chance had a not-so-shining little brother. He doubted Chance had bothered to tell anyone about him…or where he’d spent the last five years.
He pulled open the door to find a young woman and a goat—yes, by damn, and it was on a leash—standing on Chance’s porch.
“Hello,” she said. Her large nut-brown eyes sparkled. She gifted him with a friendly smile. Rosy, plump cheeks reddened further as she gazed expectantly at him.
He couldn’t help noticing that she had large buck teeth in a rather tiny face. They took a little something away from her earnest smile. Still, he grinned in return. “Hello yourself.”
“I’m—”
“No, ma’am,” Rider interrupted. “Let me guess.”
She giggled. “All right.”
“You’re…leaving milk.”
“No, sir.” Her face flushed. “Bluebeard is a boy goat.”
“Excuse me, ma’am. My mistake,” Rider said. He leaned a shoulder against a column on the porch. “Then you’re selling raffle tickets for the church social.”
She shook her head.
“You’re taking names to petition the governor to get women the right to vote here in Kansas?”
Her face lit up. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not why I’m here, though it’s a splendid idea. One I’ll have to take up with my father.”
“You’re…” Holy hell! This was Chance’s intended. Friendly and nice, but, good God in heaven, homely as a mud fence! “You’re Fanny!”
“Yes, yes, yes.” She giggled. “I’m Fanny Fairfax. How do you do?”
Rider swallowed down his surprise and shook her outstretched, gloved hand. “I’m real pleased to meet you, ma’am. Would you sit here on the porch with me?” He’d like to get to know the woman Chance had chosen for his bride.
He took her hand and helped her sit beside him. She tied the goat to the lowest porch railing, where he proceeded to munch on what little grass grew at his feet.
“I’m Chance’s younger brother, Rider.”
“Chance’s brother?” One gloved hand flew to her breast. Those unbelievably large, liquid brown eyes of hers widened in astonishment. Her mouth dropped open. She recovered her composure quickly and replied in a small, offended voice. “He didn’t even tell me he had a brother.”
“Well, we don’t stay in touch much.”
“Still, I can’t think why he wouldn’t have told me.” She hesitated a moment. “Then you’re Tildy’s nephew, too.”
It was Rider’s turn to be surprised. “Tildy O’Hara?” At Fanny’s nod, he continued, “That old battle-axe? I thought she’d kicked the bucket long ago.”
“Oh, no, Tildy’s just fine. She couldn’t be better. We love her dearly here in Grand Fork.”
“Well, that’s good news, I guess,” muttered Rider.
“She’s out of town right now, but she’ll be back in time for the wedding.”
Wonderful news. Rider remembered her as being an interfering, overbearing, talkative old woman…who’d disapproved of every little thing he’d ever done, none of it aboveboard in her mind. Sure, she’d been right most of the time, but he was reformed now and he wasn’t anxious to renew their acquaintance.
“I stopped by to see Chance,” Fanny said. “Is he about?”
“Call me Rider,” he stated, stalling for time. All right, Chance hadn’t come home at all last night. He didn’t recall his brother as being the kind of man to spend much time with fancy women, and as he remembered, he seldom drank, at least not to excess. Grand Fork didn’t have the kind of trouble to keep the sheriff away all night. So where the hell was he then? And where was that so-called bank robber, Trixianna?
Chance cantered up to the back of his house. Upon hearing voices on the front porch, he put his fingers to his lips. Trixianna nodded as he helped her off the horse. He slowly pulled the back door open and scooted her inside without being seen. She ran on tip-toe down the hall to her bedroom, where she could change clothes. His last sight of her brought a smile to his face; her hips swaying as she scrambled down the hallway.
He walked around and stepped onto the front porch. Caught off guard by the man before him, he stared tongue-tied, when he heard him speak.
“Ma’am, I don’t know but—”
Chance leaned against the door. It creaked from his weight. Fanny shrieked in fright. Rider jumped to his feet and whirled around. Chance saw him reach for a gun that wasn’t there. Obviously, old habits died hard. Rider lowered his arm and locked expectant eyes on Chance.
Chance gazed into a pair of familiar blue eyes…the same color he stared at every morning while he shaved. He held the door open with one hand, his body frozen in place.
A smile tugged at his lips, then broadened with exuberance. He bounded down the steps and grabbed Rider in a bear hug guaranteed to break every one of the younger man’s ribs. Chance surprised himself with his emotional outburst, the outpouring of love he felt for this, his only brother. He had tried for years to forget that he even had a brother—this man who had caused Chance to leave his hometown under a cloud of suspicion and doubt. He’d made a new place for himself in Grand Fork, and now all the anger and humiliation he’d felt then died with just one look at Rider.
Chance wrapped his arms around Rider and closed his eyes, fighting tears. He felt as if his breath was being cut off.
He glanced at Fanny. She’d risen to her feet. Tears ran down her crimson cheeks. She
dabbed at the corner of one eye with a lace handkerchief. She sniffed, then gave Chance a look of annoyance. “You never told me you had a brother.”
Chance whispered in Rider’s ear. “I’m sorry, little brother, but I never told anyone here in Grand Fork about you. I never expected you to live very long in that stinking hellhole I put you in, much less want to see me when you got out.”
“I understand, Chance. Honest. I had five long years to think about what you had to do and about what I did, and I’m not holding a grudge.” His voice sounded husky, tear-filled, much like Chance’s own.
Rider backed away, then slapped Chance on the shoulder. “I’m here to see a wedding. Isn’t that right, Miss Fairfax?”
“So, you’ve met my Fanny?”
Chance watched Fanny cringe at his softly spoken words. Rider didn’t seem to notice her reaction.
He grinned. “She and I were just getting to know each other.”
Fanny blushed at Rider’s teasing, her ill humor seeming to fade.
”You’d better watch out, Chance,” Rider added. “I might just steal her away.”
Brash as ever, Rider pulled her into his arms and bussed her cheek soundly. With his arm still around her, he asked, “So when is the big day?”
She pushed out of Rider’s exuberant embrace. Reaching out a gloved hand, she scratched the goat’s neck with open affection. “The day after tomorrow.”
Rider turned to Chance. “You ready, big brother?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Fanny fixed Rider with a thin-lipped smile. “Not much for the groom to do, Mr. Magrane.”
“Call me Rider,” he said again. He winked at Chance. “All the groom has to do is show up with a big smile on his face, I guess.”
“Rider!” Chance croaked. “You go too far.”
Rider flushed, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. I’ve been away from polite society a while.”
Fanny remained mute, her cheeks pink, too embarrassed to speak. Chance doubted she understood the implied meaning behind Rider’s words, but she knew enough to recognize an implied vulgarity when she heard one.
“Is that goat gonna be in the wedding?” asked Rider, in an obvious attempt to change the direction of the conversation.
Fanny’s head bobbed up. “Of course. I couldn’t have a party without him.”
“He is?” Chance knew she was partial to the animal but to bring him inside the church? Bluebeard ate everything that wasn’t tied down, and even some objects that were. In point of fact, he was munching on Rider’s trousers at that very moment.
Rider saw him and cuffed him on the nose. It didn’t deter the beast. He kept right on chewing. “Well, hell,” he muttered. His eyes met Chance’s with an appeal to help.
Chance grinned, then shrugged his shoulders. “You’re on your own, little brother.”
“Some things never change,” Rider grumbled. He stepped away from the goat, and the material ripped and stayed in the goat’s jaw. Rider now sported an obvious hole in the seat of his denim trousers. He clapped a hand over the exposed skin, then rolled his eyes.
Chance bent over his knees and burst into laughter.
Fanny giggled, then covered her mouth.
Bluebeard nibbled the fabric, oblivious to their humor.
Rider chuckled. “Remind me to steer clear of that trouser-eating beast. It could get a mite breezy.”
Chance turned to Fanny, his laughter easing. “Was there something you came by to see me for, Fanny?”
She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “It can wait. I really must be going.” She then walked over to Bluebeard. As she leaned over to untie him, she cooed childish gibberish in his ear.
Rider watched her, his mouth gaping. He caught Chance’s gaze. Chance shrugged his shoulders. What could he say? She loved the goat more than she loved him? Rider wouldn’t believe him anyway. Who in his right mind would?
Fanny waggled her fingers and ambled off, her skirts swishing, her ample backside swaying. “It was nice to meet you, Rider,” she called over one shoulder.
“Same to you, ma’am.”
Bluebeard chose that moment to take a swipe at the enticing fabric of Fanny’s skirt, but she snatched it out of his eager grasp.
“Well, big brother,” Rider drawled. He sat down on the bottom step and propped his elbows on his knees. “That isn’t exactly the woman I pictured when you wrote me that you were taking a wife…in your one and only letter in five years.”
Chance dropped down on the porch beside him, and decided to ignore that last jab. He leaned his elbows on the stair behind. “What did you have in mind?”
Rider grinned. “That fetching redhead I saw last night. The one you’ve arrested and kept all to yourself.”
Chance felt his face heat. “You were here last night and saw her?”
“Yup. You sure as hell weren’t. I slept on your sofa.” His grin widened. “You know, you aren’t very observant for a lawman. What were you up to?”
“None of your damned business.”
“Oh? One of Grand Fork’s good-time gals?”
Chance punched Rider on the shoulder. “Hell, no.”
“Ouch.” Rider rubbed his arm. “Where is that lovely bank robber, anyway?”
“She’s inside, and she’s not what you think.”
Rider’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “The hell you say. She wasn’t here earlier. I searched your little house this morning, top to bottom, before I took a leisurely bath. Unless my eyesight’s failing, I was all alone.”
Chance cleared his throat. The tips of his ears burned. “She wasn’t there before, but she’s there now. I expect she’ll be out soon.”
Rider leaned against the porch railing, his hands pushed deep in his pockets. He narrowed his eyes. “Just what the hell is going on here, Chance?”
Chance inspected the peeling paint on the underside of his porch roof. “Nothing that concerns you.”
Rider bent over, his face inches away from Chance’s nose. He poked a finger at Chance’s chest. “I can always tell when you’re lying, big brother. You refuse to meet my eyes. And right now you’re lying like a pet dog.”
Trixianna stopped with her hand on the door, dressed in her best Sunday gown and ready to face Chance and his brother. Determined to keep her feelings inside where no one could suspect how she felt about Chance, she screwed up her courage and stepped out the door. In a bright voice, she asked, “Who’s got a dog?”
Chance jumped to his feet. He stared at her. “I didn’t know you even owned a dress that wasn’t as gray and ugly as a cemetery marker.”
“Why, brother, you are quite the charmer. Is that any way to speak to your lovely houseguest?” Rider removed his hat and held it over his heart. “Ma’am, you’re as lovely as a buttercup.”
“Thank you, Rider.”
“Yellow,” muttered Chance. “That dress is yellow.”
Rider swatted Chance on the posterior with his hat. “What’s wrong with you? Of course it’s yellow.”
Chance shook his head, then met Trixianna’s eyes. His pale blue irises brimmed with tenderness. “Why, honey, you look darned pretty.”
Remembering the way he’d intimately touched her and aroused her earlier, Trixianna felt the heat of a blush steal into her cheeks.
“Honey?” asked Rider, his voice obviously puzzled. His gaze skipped from Chance to Trixianna, and back again.
Chance visibly swallowed. He turned a flushed face toward his brother. “What I meant to say is that her dress is the color of honey.”
Rider stared at Trixianna’s gown, and folded his arms across his chest. “It isn’t either. It’s as yellow as an ear of corn.”
“That’s been out in the sun too long,” explained Trixianna. “Honey is a very good description. So, who’s got a dog?”
Both men stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Rider found his voice first. “I said the town was quiet as a sleeping dog.”
>
Chance nodded in agreement. “It usually is this time of day. Too early for the drunks and too late for much of anything else. Why don’t we all go inside and have coffee?” he suggested. He stepped up onto the porch. Then he turned around, snagged Rider’s shirtfront, and dragged him bodily up the steps.
“Good notion,” Rider replied. He slapped Chance’s hand away and straightened his shirt. Following Chance inside, he said, “Then you can explain what the devil is going on around here. A fellow goes away for a few years and he feels like a stranger among decent folks.”
Trixianna had put the coffee on before she’d come outside. Now she stopped in front of the stove, one hand on the pot, and turned to stare at Rider. “What do you mean—decent folks?”
Trixianna watched as Chance frowned, than shook his head. Rider frowned in return. “She’s got a right to know,” he said.
“Why?”
“If she’s staying here and I’m staying here, maybe she’d like to know what kind of man she’s sharing living quarters with.”
Chance gave a huff of exasperation.
Trixianna stomped her booted foot on the kitchen floor, rattling the glass panes in the window. She glared at the two silent men as she crossed the room with the pot and three cups. She set them noisily down on the kitchen table. “Would you quit talking about me like I’m not even in the room? ‘She’s this, she’s that.’ My name is Trixianna. I would appreciate it if you would use it. Now if you’ve got family matters that don’t concern me, I understand that, but please don’t treat me like I’m the invisible bank robber come to stay.” She glared meaningfully at Chance.
He looked at her with a calculating expression in his blue eyes. She met his clear-eyed gaze, her cheeks flaming, her heart pounding. She’d surprised herself with her forward behavior, but she wasn’t the least bit sorry.
“Hey,” hollered Rider. He made a slight gesture with his right hand. “I don’t mean to cause any big ruckus here. It’s not a big secret, Trixianna.” He smiled at her.
She smiled in return. She began pouring the coffee, her gaze drifting between her task and the brothers’ intense expressions. She heard Chance groan.
“I’ve been in prison up at Lansing the past five years,” Rider explained.
Trixianna gasped, stunned by Rider’s admission. She missed the cup. Coffee poured all over the table. It ran over the side and dripped unnoticed onto the floor.