Читать книгу Prim And Improper - Liz Ireland, Liz Ireland - Страница 9

Not far from his house, Ty Saunders sat atop his gray stallion, Zeus, and watched the approaching rider with interest. Aside from Sally and Toby, he and Cal didn’t get visitors often. But those two had already come and gone today.

Strange thing was, this horse looked like the Livingstons’ black mare. He frowned and waited until the rider in the billowing black cape started mounting the final hill to the house. When he could see who it was, his breath hitched in his throat.

Framed by the lush, gently sloping valley behind her, Louise Livingston looked beautiful. Dazzling, Ty would almost say. Which was either a confirmation of his belief that the eldest Miss Livingston was the most lovely and sensuous of the two sisters beneath that prickly exterior of hers, or a clear indication that he was just coming out of a long, lonely winter and desperate for female companionship.

He was more inclined to believe the latter was the case. He still remembered the distinct pleasure of dancing with her last summer at the church dance, and of holding her close in his arms afterward. For a few moments, she’d kissed him as though he were the answer to her prayers and then, for no apparent reason, she’d frozen up and backed away from him as if he’d had yellow fever. Since that time, she’d never failed to snub him. Could hardly look him in the eye, even. And every time he received the cold shoulder from her, his pride never ceased to sting.

Especially when he remembered the curt words she’d said to him after coldly extracting herself from his embrace. “You shouldn’t have taken such liberties, Mr. Saunders. I’m too involved in my work to have time for developing a liaison with a, a…miner.” She had pronounced the last word with distinct disdain, as if a miner were the lowliest creature on the earth.

As if he’d wanted to develop a liaison with her in the first place! All he’d done was kiss her, and she’d treated him like a criminal for it.

It wasn’t as if she were any prize herself. Louise didn’t smile flirtatiously unless someone made a big purchase at the mercantile. She didn’t dress in stylishly low-cut dresses that might give a man something to dream about, and rarely engaged in even the simple forms of feminine flattery that her sister threw about so easily, the type of banter that could put a little swagger in a fellow’s walk. Louise Livingston was brisk, businesslike and downright prim.

But she sure was pretty. And for those few moments he’d held her, it seemed that she was the answer to his prayers, too.

Louise eased the mare into a jogging trot as they finished the climb and her face came into view. Her cheekbones were flushed to a cherry red from the brisk ride, and her wide-set sharp brown eyes looked steadily into Ty’s as she neared. The closer she came, the more pursed her lips became.

He got down from his horse and walked forward to meet her. “Nothing happened to Toby and Sally, I hope,” he said. “Is Sally all right?”

At the repeated mention of her sister’s name, Louise’s jaw worked forward. “You’d know the answer to that better than I would, Mr. Saunders!” she said, swinging down from the saddle.

Close up, he saw that her cape was soaked through. And the tip of her pert nose was red. He smiled, understanding. Louise had risked rain and pneumonia because she’d gotten wind that his brother was sweet on Sally. He couldn’t blame her for being concerned. He’d had doubts about the two of them as a couple himself. Sally was young and reckless, and apt to stampede right over his soft-spoken brother. But Cal was twenty-four years old, and knew his own mind. Ty tried to keep his nose out of his brother’s romance.

“I take it you didn’t come out all this way to dance with me again,” he said.

Two red blotches scorched her cheeks. “You know very well what I’ve come here about, Mr. Saunders. It’s about Sally.”

“I wouldn’t worry my head about that, Miss Livingston,” he said, smiling as he took her elbow to escort her around a maze of mud puddles. “Nothing’s happened around here that’s against anybody’s raising.”

She jerked her arm from him and skated uneasily a short distance away across a sheet of wet clay. “Maybe not against your upbringing, you furry reprobate!” she said sternly. “We Livingstons hold ourselves to higher standards.”

Furry? Ty rubbed his thick black beard self-consciously, trying to keep his temper. “Higher than whose?”

“Yours, obviously!” she said. “I can’t believe you would manipulate my baby sister’s affections this way, when you know she’s just a young, innocent, impressionable girl.”

The oddly skewed characterization of Sally aside, Ty was confused. “That I would what?” What the hell was she talking about?

She drew up and wagged a finger at him. “Don’t try denying it. Sally told me all about how she feels about you.”

“About me?” Ty asked.

“Yes, you! She said flat out that she loves you. Are you telling me that you haven’t encouraged her affections?”

“Of course I haven’t.”

“My sister is not a liar.”

Why would Sally have said such a thing? Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe Louise was just confused. “Listen, Miss Livingston—”

“Don’t you dare try to lecture me,” Louise said. “A grown man the likes of you should know better than to try to steal a young woman’s heart in such a conniving manner.”

The likes of him? Finally Ty gave up trying to understand all this nonsense about Sally and puffed up in offense. “Are you saying that the Saunders name isn’t good enough for a Livingston?”

As if he had to ask! She’d made her feelings on that matter perfectly clear ten months earlier. He felt the old familiar sting again and gritted his teeth, awaiting her answer.

“You’ve been leading my sister down the garden path,” Louise said, looking at him with something like disgust. “Certainly that doesn’t lend any nobility to your precious name.”

The lady was getting him steamed. “Look, I don’t know what false impression Sally gave you—”

Her strangled cry cut him off. “Stop calling my sister a liar! You’re only besmudging your own questionable character. Sally had no reason to lie. In fact, it was clear that she suspected rightly that I would be very upset by any commingling between the two of you. Especially given…”

Her cheeks blotched with red and her mouth snapped closed. Apparently she hadn’t forgotten about their long-ago kiss, either.

Ty grinned at her discomfort. “Given what?”

“You know what!” she brayed unhappily. “I’m sure you pounced on her the moment you got her alone, exactly the same way you did with me.”

He paused, considering whether he wanted to make her even madder. Temptation won out. “Not exactly,” he assured her. “You’re definitely more of a challenge, as far as pouncing on women goes.”

Her jaw fell open in shock, and, perversely, her pretty red lips looked more gorgeous and kissable than ever.

“I’d be ready to take up the challenge again, though,” he said, winking at her. “Anytime you say.”

“What a despicable man you are! I should think it self-evident why I wouldn’t want my only sister to lose her heart to a Saunders!”

“Oh?” Ty asked with casual interest, attempting to tamp down his growing anger. “Is it the Saunders family specifically that you object to, or are you Livingstons saving yourselves for visiting royalty?”

Her lush lips pulled into a prissy frown. “Just because some of us have standards—”

“Oh, very high standards,” Ty agreed with a fluttering trill of sarcasm to his tone. “Anyone cagey enough to make a bundle plying men full of alcohol is bound to be far, far above the rest of us.”

That sharp jaw of hers jutted out proudly. “Running a saloon is an honest trade.”

Ty laughed. “I never understood how you could dignify that ramshackle booze shed of yours with a name like ‘saloon.’”

By the way Louise reacted—jerking back as if she’d been slapped—Ty sensed his insult had exploded right on target. “Booze shed!” She fairly shook with rage. “A grown man who spends years panning for gold and then decides to fritter away his life chasing cows shouldn’t criticize those of us who actually put in a hard day’s work!”

His eyes narrowed dangerously and he took a step forward over a mud hole. “I don’t take to women telling men their business.”

She didn’t back away, he noticed with irritation. “I wouldn’t have bothered, except you butted into mine.”

They faced off stiffly, separated by mere inches. Both of them were breathing heavily, and the flush of red in Louise’s high cheekbones had only been heightened by their heated exchange. Strands of her sable brown hair blew in the breeze as it began to dry, making her appear far from the civilized creature she claimed to be. For a moment, Ty had the absurd, insane urge to kiss the pout right off her ruby lips.

But that would only prove that he was the beast she said he was. He took a step backward.

“I want you to promise not to have anything to do with Sally ever again,” Louise said, looking relieved that he had retreated.

Ty still didn’t understand how the woman had come up with the crazy notion that he was sweet on her sister, but he wasn’t in the mood to be accommodating to Louise Livingston today. No matter how silly and unnecessary her demands were. The uppity woman could leave with whatever impression irritated her most, as far as he cared.

“No.”

She stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. “Are you saying you refuse to abide by my wishes?” The shock in her voice indicated that few people dared to do so.

He grinned. “I sure am.”

“But you don’t even love her! You said so yourself!”

“Still, a man likes to keep his options open.”

Her face twisted in revulsion. “I can’t believe you would even say such a thing.”

“Why not? You seem to have a pretty low opinion of the Saunders family.”

“And it’s still sinking,” she said wryly.

He laughed. He’d always admired a woman with spirit. It was a pity this one’s energies were all focused on insulting him.

“Well, if you won’t keep away from Sally, I’ll just make sure to keep Sally away from you,” Louise said.

“Better keep her under lock and key then,” he warned. “You know what a ruffian I am. I just might steal into your house one night, clunk her on the head and drag her off by her hair.”

Louise lifted her chin. “After I tell my sister about your behavior toward me today, she wouldn’t have you on a bet. I can’t imagine that any woman would!”

“Oh no?”

“Any decent woman, that is,” Louise corrected primly.

He inched closer. “Funny…I’ve never had any trouble finding women—decent, as you say, or otherwise.”

“Keep away from me,” she warned as he lurched closer to her, his eyebrows wriggling seductively.

“You said I was only supposed to stay away from your sister,” he said, darting up an eyebrow suggestively. “But, as you know, I have a weakness for all the Livingston women.”

Louise took a tripping step backward, catching herself from falling with a down-stretched arm. Ty watched with amusement as she scooped up a handful of gloppy clay and palmed it menacingly.

“Don’t you dare come a step farther,” she warned.

“Or what?” he taunted. “Are you going to toss that little mud ball my way?”

She quaked with anger, and with surprising speed the wet ball of clay came whizzing toward his face. He ducked in time, but the projectile sped past him and smacked Zeus right on the nose. The spirited animal let out a sharp whinny of protest and reared threateningly.

Louise’s eyes widened at the sight of the impressive animal rising to its full height, and she watched silently as Ty grabbed for the bridle and tried to soothe the animal.

“Nice shot,” he said accusingly.

“You drove me to it,” Louise argued.

Ty felt his blood heating up for another fight just as a door slammed and Caleb came running out of the house, probably beckoned by Zeus’s whinnies.

Louise began to pick her way toward her horse. “Just don’t be surprised when you don’t see Sally anymore, Mr. Saunders.”

“I won’t. I have no doubt you’ll succeed in scaring her away from men.”

“M-Miss Livingston!” Cal sputtered anxiously. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Or maybe you’ll teach Sally to follow your example,” Ty continued bitterly, “and she’ll learn how to simply scare men away.”

Louise’s hands balled into fists at her side. “If I could just scare you away I would count it as a victory!”

Cal looked from her to his brother in confusion and alarm. “Wait!” he said, darting after Louise. “Please, Miss Livingston, let me—” His string bean body hopped awkwardly over a puddle and he jutted out his hand, offering assistance to Louise.

“No, don’t,” she pleaded, obviously having had enough of being rushed at by Saunders men.

But Cal was determined to help the lady, and he grabbed her arm just as he lost his footing.

First Cal slipped, then, tugged by his movement, Louise lost her balance, too. Her free arm twisted in a loopy circle as she tried to regain her equilibrium, but Cal’s unsteadying hand was still gripping her arm, and when he collided with the brown-red mud, she followed.

Louise Livingston hit the ground with a definitely unladylike splat, Ty noted with unabashed pleasure.

Wearing an expression of pure astonishment on her mud-splattered face, Louise wallowed on the wet ground for a moment before she gathered her wits and started to pull herself up.

Cal. with his knobby knees poking up out of the mud, glanced over at her in panic. “Wait, Miss Livingston, let me help you!”

Alarmed by the idea of more of Caleb’s help, Louise flailed away from the young man. “No, please!” she cried, trying to push herself up before Cal could do any more harm.

A wide, generous smile tugging at his lips, Ty strode over, quickly looped an arm about her dirty waist and hoisted her to her feet.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as he lifted her effortlessly. She turned to look at him and he graced her with a broad, taunting smile. “Let me go, both of you!” She scurried away, slipping and sliding to her horse, and quickly mounted, “Thank heavens I learned about Sally’s unwise affections before it was too late!”

Cal shot to his feet. “Sally’s what?”

“Unwise affections,” Louise repeated as the mare pranced in a restless circle beneath her. The horse looked almost as anxious to get away from the Saunders ranch as Louise herself did.

“Wait! S-surely you’re not leaving! Not yet!” Cal cried, scrambling across a puddle toward her. “Don’t you want to come inside and change clothes? You look terrible!”

Louise scowled.

“Terribly wet, I mean,” Cal corrected nervously.

“I’d be glad to lend you a pair of those pants that you seem so keen on wearing, Miss Livingston,” Ty said.

“No, thank you!” she snapped, kicking her horse into a canter that soon turned to a gallop in her hurry to be gone.

Ty watched her speed across the valley, laughing unconsciously at the wild sight she created with her scraggly hair and mud-coated cape flapping behind her.

Still gawking in surprise and confusion, Caleb pushed himself off the muddy ground and observed unnecessarily, “That was Miss Livingston!” His tall, gangly frame made him look like a mud-soaked scarecrow. “What did she want?”

Ty frowned. He feared that he’d just unwittingly fouled up his brother’s romance.

“Why did she say that about Sally?” Cal asked. “What did it all mean?”

Ty sighed. His brother set quite a store by Sally Livingston. Cal wasn’t going to be too happy when he discovered the course of true love had just hit a snag. Ty punched his brother’s arm in a playful, calming gesture. “We’d better go inside, Cal, and think this whole thing through. It might take me a while to sort out Louise Livingston.”

As soon as Louise put Blackie away, she scurried toward the house—but not fast enough to avoid Will Bundy, an old miner who was huddled outside the boardinghouse with several of his cronies.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” he cried, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the mud. “What happened to you?”

Nothing she cared to repeat. “Just some mud, Will,” she muttered, circling quickly to the kitchen entrance, a ragged soul seeking sanctuary. It was late; dinner for the boarders would be soon. Her nostrils flared happily at the smell of baking bread, and she hovered near the oven, warming herself. She felt chilled to the bone, though indignation still coursed hot and fresh through her veins.

The gall of that man!

She shook in fury at the memory of Ty Saunders’s broad smile as he hoisted her out of the mud. Worse, she couldn’t forget the feel of his arm around her waist, the strength with which he’d picked her up, as though she weighed no more than a rag doll. She had experienced a tightness down in the pit of her stomach as she’d looked into his mocking gray eyes then, but God help her, her response had had nothing to do with revulsion at being manhandled by that creature. Rather, it was a tug of attraction, a feminine appreciation of Ty Saunders’s looks and strength and raw unshaven masculinity, coming at the worst possible time.

It was lust, pure and simple. And somehow, that only made her all the more angry at the despicable man.

Sally dashed in and stared in wide-eyed shock at her sister. “Oh, Louise—your dress! What happened?”

Mud covered her practical, dark blue frock, and now it was drying in front of the heat of the oven like a wet clay pot in a kiln. Louise shifted to give her backside time to warm.

“I had words with Mr. Saunders.”

“Ty Saunders?”

Toby burst through the door. “What happened!”

Her mind instinctively turning to business, Louise sent a reprimanding glance Toby’s way. “Who’s minding the store?”

“I put up a sign that said I’d be back. Please tell us what happened, Louise. It looks like you’ve been wrestling!”

His guess was closer to the truth than Louise cared to admit. “It’s just as well you’re both here, because I’m only going to say this once.” She lifted her chin and took a deep, fortifying breath. “Never, never, are we to have anything to do with the Saunders family.”

“Did Ty throw you down into the mud?” Toby asked, his voice sounding suspiciously enthusiastic.

Louise pursed her lips. “He did not. That was his brother’s doing.”

Sally paled visibly. “Caleb did that to you?”

“He did, indeed. After his brother thoroughly insulted me—and you, too, Sally. Then Tyrone Saunders had the unmitigated nerve to call our saloon a ramshackle booze shed!”

“Oh, no.” Sally’s voice was a fearful murmur. The two younger Livingstons exchanged dire glances.

Louise stepped forward, took Sally’s hands in hers and looked earnestly into her sister’s eyes. “Sally, I understand you fell prey to that…man. In deference to your tender feelings, however misguided, I won’t tell you the extent of my low estimation of his character. But I do want you to know how strongly I feel that you should never see him again. And that I blame myself entirely for not watching over you more closely.”

There, she thought proudly. She’d sounded very reasonable, very judicious.

But Sally fidgeted restlessly, her light brown eyebrows meeting in worry. “Did Caleb really wrestle you in the mud?”

Louise felt humiliated anew just from the memory. “He’s even worse than his brother! At least Tyrone can spit out a complete sentence, however vulgar and insulting.”

Sally pulled her hands back. “I’ll have you know that Cal went to college back East—Pennsylvania or somewhere. Only he didn’t like it so he quit after a year.”

“That figures,” Louise grumbled, then turned her mind back to the problem at hand. “Oh, Sally, don’t you see? Ty just isn’t good enough for you.”

“Louise, you’re a snob!”

“I am not,” Louise denied heatedly. “I just don’t want a sister of mine mixing with ruffians. Just look what those men did to me!”

Sally sighed, unable to deny that her sister looked as if she’d just returned from a trip to a hog wallow. “But it’s so unfair!” she cried petulantly. “If we don’t mix with uncouth people, who’s left in Noisy Swallow for us?”

This wasn’t the first time Louise had been forced to explain the importance of keeping the flame of civilization burning, even in Noisy Swallow. “We’re not like everyone else here. Don’t you remember our home in Chicago?”

“But we’re here now,” Sally argued. “What good are social respectability and appearances when there’s no one around to appear respectable to?”

Louise considered carefully. “Well, we always have each other. And if you’ll just consider our mother’s memory—”

“I meant, who are we going to marry?” Sally rolled her eyes in frustration. “Oh, Louise! Don’t you see, I don’t want to become a hopeless old maid like you!”

The room fell deadly silent. Louise, her own face flaming, looked from one beet-red face to the other.

Old maid?

Hopeless?

Louise had never given it much thought before, but perhaps her being twenty-three with no romantic prospects in sight did make her seem a bit of an old maid. Though it was difficult to think of herself as old. Mature, perhaps. Hardworking and financially successful, absolutely. She had developed those traits out of necessity since coming to California. Why, back in Chicago she had had plenty of beaux. But did everyone now look at her and simply think, there goes Louise Livingston, pathetic old spinster?

It seemed unbelievable to her, and, as Sally was so fond of saying, so unfair! For the first time in her life, Louise felt as if she had failed somehow, but not in the area of husband catching. Worse. She had failed to make her family see that she had their best interests at heart. That she was willing to make small sacrifices, such as not getting married, so she could devote her life to them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sally mumbled in an apologetic attempt to break the icy silence hovering over the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

“I know you didn’t,” Louise said. “But the point is this—I’m trying to maintain some standards for you all, and what I saw of the Saunders family just didn’t rise to that standard.” Which was a laughable understatement. Those two barbarians hadn’t even come within spitting distance of her standard.

Sally frowned unhappily. “That’s so unfair!”

“Soon you’ll forget all about Ty Saunders,” she assured Sally optimistically. “You know what mother always said—‘Time tames the strongest grief.’”

Unfortunately, her words did not have the desired effect. Sally burst into tears and ran from the room, leaving Toby and Louise blinking in confusion.

Toby shrugged. “I guess she’s pretty upset.”

“I wish there was something I could say to make her happy,” Louise said.

Her brother hesitated before speaking again. “Speaking of happy…you know what, Lou?”

Louise, still thinking about Sally, answered absently, “What?”

“I was talkin’ to Louden and Jim outside the saloon the other day, and they said somebody’s discovered a whole lake of gold down south!”

Louise took a breath for patience. Even after spending his formative years in California, watching men go bust on a regular basis, Toby still had the gold bug in his system. “A lake of gold? Don’t tell me you believe that!”

“But what if it’s true?” he asked, his eyes glinting with speculation. When she glimpsed that expression in his eyes, she sometimes felt as if she were looking at her father. Jonah Livingston had been a dreamer and a gambler, despite their mother’s efforts to rein him in.

“You’re not going to look for a golden lake,” she said.

“Aw, Lou, please don’t start telling me about labor being the only way to spin gold.”

She laughed, pushing him toward the door. “I’ll spare you that if you promise to forget about lakes of gold and get back to the store and your studies.”

“Oh, all right,” he muttered under his breath.

She watched him go, wishing desperately for a way to work gold out of Toby’s system and Ty out of Sally’s. Then she turned around once more and sighed.

Ty Saunders. A vision of his bearded face and those alarming gray eyes danced tauntingly in front of her eyes. She hoped she would work him out of her system. Then again, ten months of trying hadn’t succeeded in making her forget him.

She feared the man was unforgettable.