Buch lesen: «Whirlwind Bride»

A big, work-roughened hand closed over hers.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at Riley’s hand dwarfing hers. He placed their joined hands against the horse’s firm, warm neck.

Her discomfort faded when she saw the mare standing calmly beneath Riley’s touch. Susannah could feel his chest at her back, his warmth comforting. She tried keeping her mind on the horse. “She’s soft.”

“Yes.”

“She’s letting me touch her,” she said, with both wonder and uncertainty.

“Just keep your touch easy. That’s good.” His breath washed against her temple.

Her hand molded to his as they stroked the mare’s sleek firm flesh, and the slow, sinuous movement lulled her. Riley’s strength wrapped around her.

She found her gaze fixed on him, not the mare. Raw desire shimmered in his blue eyes and Susannah felt her stomach clench in response. He looked as if he wanted to stroke her…!

About the Author

Like many writers, DEBRA COWAN made up stories in her head as a child. Her BA in English was obtained with the intention of following family tradition and becoming a schoolteacher, but after she wrote her first novel there was no looking back. An avid history buff, Debra writes both historical and contemporary romances. Born in the foothills of the Kiamichi Mountains, Debra still lives in her native Oklahoma with her husband. Debra invites her readers to contact her at PO Box 30123, Coffee Creek Station, Edmond, OK 73003-0003, USA, or visit her website at: http://www.debracowan.net

A previous novel by this author:

WHIRLWIND BABY

Whirlwind Bride

Debra Cowan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my editor, Diane Grecco Dietz

Thank you for saying yes, but more importantly, thank

you for your friendship. You came during a difficult

time in my career, and your wonderful enthusiasm

convinced me to stay in the trenches.

With thanks and many hugs, D.C.

Chapter One

West Texas, 1883

“Hello, Mr. Holt. No, Riley. I should call him Riley” Two hours after arriving by stage in Whirlwind, Texas, Susannah Phelps stood on the wide, dust-covered veranda of Riley Holt’s large frame house. During the ride out here, she’d tried to think of the best way to start this conversation. Blurting out “I’m here to marry you” would not do.

Susannah felt like a mail-order bride who hadn’t been ordered, and it didn’t sit well. The October air was cool, but the sun, glaring down from a clear sky, kept the temperature from being sharp. She stayed warm with her blue wool cape and gloves. Red Texas dust hazed the air, coating everything with a rusty film and settling in the creases of her navy serge traveling skirt.

This was a lonely, isolated pocket of the plains.

Sprawled in the middle of browning pastureland, the white house with black shutters looked conspicuous and stark amid the red bluffs and short, endless grass. She’d never imagined Riley would have such a grand home; her expectations had been of a crude log cabin or a sod house.

For the third time since arriving, Susannah tugged at her bodice and smoothed her skirt, then paced the few steps to his front door. Sweat dampened her palms. She’d worn her gloves all day, but now they were too hot. She peeled them off.

A man named Matthew Baldwin had been kind enough to drive her from Whirlwind to Riley’s ranch, the Rocking H, but his buckboard had added to the bruises on her derriere. Four days of travel from St. Louis by train and stage, combined with her pregnancy, had left her more than exhausted. Her legs and feet were swollen to the size of German sausages, and she really wanted to sit down. But, having made up her mind to accept Riley Holt’s marriage proposal, she was ready to settle things.

Miss Elmira Wentworth of Miss Wentworth’s Finishing Academy in St. Louis would fall to the floor in a dead faint if she knew what Susannah was about to do. This was the most unladylike thing she’d ever done.

Susannah glanced down at her belly. Well, not the most.

As always, the reminder of her disgrace brought searing memories of the horror and anger on her parents’ faces. Her mother and father had actually let her leave St. Louis without saying a word! She’d eagerly agreed to Adam’s plan to come to his friend in Texas. Not because she shared the man’s desire to marry. No. She, like her brother, had thought their parents would relent before she left, would put aside their anger. They hadn’t.

So here she was in Whirlwind, a dusty Texas town that might as well be on the other side of the world. She was the one who had been hurt in this whole mess, the one person whom everyone had turned on. Paul LaFortune, especially, had betrayed her. She’d loved him with all of her young, innocent heart. His talk of “their future” had seduced her, had had her believing his sweet, empty promises that he’d loved her as much as she’d loved him.

She’d given him not only her virtue, but also her heart. She wouldn’t be so foolish again. Wherever Paul was, things were probably perfect for him. She was the one who’d been banished, the one who was slinking away to an unfamiliar town to marry a stranger.

True, Riley Holt was one of her brother’s best friends, and Adam trusted him implicitly, but Susannah had never met Riley.

She rested a hand on the barely visible swell of her stomach. She was just beginning her fifth month, and so far her condition had been concealed by full skirts and looser clothing. At first, the baby had been only an extension of the scandal that had disgraced her and forced her to leave St. Louis. But now the reality of this tiny life, and the enormous responsibility it brought, had sent her to Riley Holt’s door. This trip was not just about her. She was all this baby had.

It was up to her to provide for her child’s every need—food, a home, love and security. Even if it meant marrying a man she didn’t know.

Miss Wentworth and her parents aside, Susannah had to go through with it. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked.

When there was no answer, she knocked again. Uncertainty tightened her already dry throat. Surely Riley was here. He had to be here.

Skirting the mound of baggage Matthew Baldwin had stacked before she’d insisted he leave her alone at the ranch, she walked to the east end of the veranda. The long stretch of porch that ran the length of the house was empty. Only a whitewashed windmill broke up the expansive acres of prairie grass. She certainly hadn’t expected a windmill, usually rare in these parts. Down a soft slope, red long-horned cattle roamed.

Susannah walked back across the front and to the opposite end of the porch, her gaze skipping over a spring house next to the main house. A weathered but sturdy barn stood several yards away. A clang sounded from inside. She straightened.

Nerves prickled at the back of her neck and she balled her gloves in one hand. She returned to the steps, her lace-up travel boots clicking hollowly on the wood. After a slight hesitation, she started toward the barn. The clanging sounded again, sharp and metallic. She sucked in a deep breath and struggled to calm her nerves.

The pungent odors of animals and manure drifted to her. She wrinkled her nose and kept moving, despite feeling disconnected and a little lost.

Wide double doors were slid back, revealing the barn’s hazy interior and another opening of the same size at the opposite end. Metal smacked metal twice, then was followed by a curse.

The husky baritone caused an odd flutter in her stomach, a flutter that had nothing to do with the baby. She stepped forward, out of the cool sunshine and into the dim barn.

After a moment, she was able to define the row of stalls on either wall, the slatted doors, bridles hanging neatly on each wooden beam that separated the cubicles. Saddles were draped over the stable walls, from behind which big, dark eyes stared at her.

Horses. She inched back against the door, curled her fingers around its edge. The sharp clang of metal sounded to her left and she turned.

A man bent over a pump, his back to her. Despite the shadows, she could see the span of broad shoulders beneath the white shirt. Even thinking himself unobserved, he seemed to command attention, filling the space with some undefinable aura of power.

Suddenly, as if he felt her presence, he straightened and turned, freezing when he saw her. He moved out of the shadows, holding a greasy wrench. His hard, even features were blatantly male, compellingly confident. Had Adam told her Riley was so big?

So … intimidating?

Spurred by nerves and uncertainty, she blurted, “I’m here.”

One dark brown eyebrow arched. “Uh, yes, you are.”

Oh, bother. She hadn’t once practiced saying that. Frustrated and uncertain, she rubbed her forehead. “I mean, hello.” Riley stepped into the light then, and she saw that his eyes were a piercing blue. “May I help you, ma’am?”

“I’m Susannah. Phelps?” He grinned. “Are you asking me?”

“No! I am. Susannah Phelps, I mean.” She gave a wobbly smile.

“Adam’s sister?”

“Yes.” Relief washed through her and she smiled more widely, dismayed to realize she’d crushed her gloves into a ball. “You received Adam’s telegraph?”

“Yes.” Still looking surprised, he tossed the wrench aside, then pulled a rag from the back pocket of his denim trousers and began wiping his hands. “What are you doing out here? How did you get here?”

“I thought … didn’t Adam tell you I was coming?”

“Yes. Well, to Whirlwind.”

“Oh, good.” A beam of sunlight showed up the gold in Riley’s sun-streaked brown hair and angled over his bronzed features. His blue eyes set her pulse to pounding.

Nothing about this man was pretty or soft or gentle. Strength and power carved every line of his body. His worn white shirt molded a wide shelf of shoulders, a deep chest. He was commanding and rugged and authoritative.

That intent gaze suggested a leashed restlessness, as if he were surrounded on all sides by walls or worse, a firing squad. A raw tension vibrated from him, belying the polite smile that never really reached his eyes, the low calm voice. Everything about him spoke of hard work and labor and sweat, a far cry from the men who’d squired Susannah about, men who spent their days in their father’s law office or shipping business. Riley was a man of the land who owned his world.

His gaze skimmed over her, from her loose chignon to her dusty shoes. A wariness slid into his eyes, and something sharp, hungry.

Though he’d become fast friends with Adam at university nine years before, Riley had never returned Adam’s visits or come to St. Louis. But Susannah had seen a photograph of him with her brother. The grainy image looked nothing like this man. The poor reflection certainly couldn’t capture the blue of his eyes or the power in that body.

His gaze dropped to her lips and her pulse tripped. Taking a step back, she pressed closer to the door. He made her as nervous as those horses did. There was a restive energy about him that reminded her of the animals, as if he were too wild to be confined.

He looked away, shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t realize you were coming to the ranch.”

“Oh. Yes.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, glad she’d taken the time at the stage depot to brush out her skirt and wash her face. Still, she would’ve liked a bath. She felt awkward and unwelcome. “I’ve interrupted you.”

“Just working on the pump.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. When she didn’t, he frowned, tucked the dirty rag back in his pocket. “How was your trip? Did you take the stage?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you staying?”

Maybe that jarring stage ride had addled her brain, but she suddenly felt as if she were in the wrong place. Susannah frowned.

Riley studied her. “Adam sounds happy in his new marriage.”

“Oh, he is.” Pressure tightening her chest, Susannah rushed to take advantage of the opening Riley had given her. “Pardon me for being forward, but don’t you think we should discuss the marriage?”

He stared blankly at her.

“I’m in agreement. Are … you?”

Tilting his head, he studied her, shadows softening the hard angles of his face. “Sure. I think Adam will be happy.”

Oh, dear. Her hands fluttered to her throat. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t talking about Adam’s marriage.”

“No?”

She swallowed. Why was he making this so difficult? Was he teasing her the way he had a moment ago? She could see no humor in those dark blue eyes, only a mild curiosity. “I know you never spoke to me directly, but Adam said you were in agreement.”

“I was in agreement?” Riley’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He took a step toward her; his hard body seemed to close off what little air she had. “About what?”

Feeling as if she were being cornered by a wild stallion, Susannah noted how her heart was thudding painfully against her ribs. Adam had said Riley wanted her and she’d believed him. However, at the moment, Riley didn’t seem like a man who wanted her. At all.

Unsettled, she rushed on. “I realize my coming to you was forward, but I had to. Since you’d already spoken for me, I didn’t think it would be too much a breach in etiquette.”

“Your coming to me?”

“Yes.”

“Spoken for you? Are you saying.” He cleared his throat, his gaze locking on hers. “You think we’re going to get married?”

“Yes.” She nearly shouted in relief. “Everything’s in order. I’m in complete agreement. There’s just one thing—”

“I’m sure as hell not in agreement,” Riley exclaimed.

“What?” Susannah squeaked.

For just a moment, his eyes hardened and he paled as though she’d stuck a gun to his head. Then he grinned and stepped around her to move outside. “Where is he? Adam!” he called. “Come on out! The joke is over.”

“This is most certainly not a joke,” Susannah huffed, turning in a swirl of skirts. Panic flared. What was going on? The only reason she had come to this godforsaken dust pit was because Adam had said Riley wanted to marry her, and she needed security for her baby.

“Phelps, you snake!” Laughing, Riley started for the house, his strong legs eating up the distance over the hard ground.

Susannah followed, her senses spinning. Honestly! “He isn’t here. I’m alone.” And destined to remain that way, it seemed.

Riley pivoted, causing her to stop abruptly or run into his massive chest. He braced his hands on his hips. “What’s all this talk about marriage then?”

Temper flaring, she mimicked his pose. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get married?”

“Me? No.” He chuckled.

“You didn’t tell my brother you wanted to marry me?” she demanded with a jerky wave of her hand.

“No. Absolutely not.”

It took a second for the full import of his words to sink in. “No?” she said weakly, her hand falling to her side.

He must’ve seen the color drain out of her face because his smile faded. His voice softened. “No.”

She thought she might be sick all over his dusty boots.

Chapter Two

He’d never even met the woman and she thought he wanted to marry her. Amazing.

Riley watched Susannah’s face grow pale. The disbelief in her eyes shifted to shock. She swayed and he stepped toward her.

“Are you okay? You look like you might be sick.”

“I’m fine.” She marched around him toward the house. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

For a moment, Riley stood there. Adam had sent her to him, and for some ridiculous reason, Susannah believed Riley might actually want to marry her. Not so ridiculous, he reminded himself as he followed her. People agreed to arranged marriages all the time. Mail-order, too. But not him.

He caught up to her. “I’m sorry I reacted badly. You took me by surprise.”

She looked away. “I noticed.”

“I have no idea why Adam would say I wanted to marry.”

“Marry me?”

“No, anyone. I don’t know what he was thinking. He knows I have no intention of doing that again.”

She glanced over, skirts swishing against the ground, stirring up little puffs of dust. “Would it be so awful?” How was he supposed to answer that? “Well.”

“Don’t worry. The misunderstanding is cleared up.” His gaze traced her slender curves. Silver-blond curls gleamed in the sun, revealing a long elegant neck. Her light vanilla scent drifted to him and his heart gave a hard kick. He squared his shoulders against the reaction.

After his wife’s death four years ago, he’d focused all his attention on building the Rocking H with his father. A short three years after their marriage, Maddie had been suddenly wrenched from him, her life snuffed out when she’d lost her way in a dust storm and broken her neck. Riley hadn’t been interested in another woman since, nor had the inclination to find one who did interest him.

He slowed as he neared the porch, while Susannah steamed ahead, sweeping past him and up the steps, her skirts brushing his boots.

She bent to pick up two small valises, stuffing one under her arm and gripping the other in her hand. “Just what did my brother’s telegram say?”

“That you were coming to Whirlwind.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.” He wondered what Adam had told Susannah. Before the sun set, he intended to find out. Whatever it was had convinced her to travel hundreds of miles to marry a man she didn’t know.

Marriage?! Riley had thought he might swallow his teeth when she’d made that little announcement. He wasn’t marrying her. Not because she was the sister of one of his good friends, but because she didn’t belong here. Look at her! She was too soft, too delicate for life in the Texas plains. His past made him an expert on beautiful outsiders, especially those who believed they were strong enough to survive in this sometimes-merciless land. Hooking up with Susannah Phelps would be like carrying china on a cattle drive. Not smart. Not practical. He hadn’t built the reputation of the Rocking H by being stupid or impractical.

“Humph.” She yanked at the strap on the largest trunk and stumbled backward.

Riley cleared the steps in two strides and reached out to steady her. She regained her footing, straightened away from him.

He eyed her mound of luggage incredulously. “Are all these yours?”

She shot him a glacial look and shifted the valise under her arm, then grabbed the strap of the smallest trunk. The valise crashed to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving, of course.” As she bent toward her bag, he scooped it up.

He glanced around. There was no horse or buggy. “Just exactly how did you get out here?”

“Matthew Baldwin.”

Matthew? Riley lifted a brow. Matt Baldwin hadn’t been called by his full name since they were fifteen.

Puffing out a breath that lifted a stray curl over her forehead, Susannah reached for the valise he held, then wrapped the strap of the smallest trunk around her other hand. “There.”

Dragging the piece behind her, she clomped down the steps, then stopped. She stared down the long, dusty road, past the crude log archway where he’d carved his rocking H. Did she think she was going to carry all that luggage? The three pieces she held now looked heavy enough to break her. She was so fragile and small-boned, Riley didn’t think she could carry even one of those valises all the way to town. He wanted to ask if she’d brought everything she owned, but he kept his mouth shut.

Hefting the bag under her arm, she looked over her shoulder. “How far is Whirlwind?”

“Three miles.”

“Three.” After a long moment, she turned, lifting her chin. “I’d like to leave my luggage here, if you don’t mind. I’ll send someone for it.”

“How are you planning to get back to town?” He couldn’t stand it anymore; he moved down the steps and reached out to pry the small trunk from her grasp, then slid it onto his shoulder. “Walk? I don’t see a horse.”

“Oh, I don’t ride horses.” He grinned. “What do you do with them?”

“I.” She blinked, then recovered. “Nothing.”

“You certainly can’t walk all that way. I’d be more than happy to give you a ride.” He glanced at the two large trunks still on his porch. “And your luggage.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do. Fix your pump, for one.”

“I’ve got time. I feel badly about what happened back there.” Not as badly as Adam was going to, though. “Let’s just forget that, shall we?” she asked primly. “Sure.” Remembering the hurt that had flared in her eyes when he’d laughed at her assumption of marriage, Riley felt his conscience twinge. “If you need anything while you’re in Whirlwind, anything at all, you let me know.”

He reached out and took the valise from under her arm. The back of his hand brushed the underside of her breast, and she stiffened, her gaze flying to his. Damn.

For an instant, they stared at each other. Susannah stepped away, nervously fingering the fastening of her cape. Her movement jerked him back to attention.

His hand burned as if he were still touching her. She might be slight, but there was nothing wanting about those breasts, which were fuller than they appeared under her wrap. He turned for the barn. “Let me hitch Pru to the wagon. I’ll get you back to town.”

Susannah Phelps wasn’t his responsibility, but she was the sister of his good friend. He would get her back to Whirlwind, even back to St. Louis. And he would get some answers in the process.

After hitching the bay mare to the buckboard, he drove around to the front of the house and loaded Susannah’s trunks into the back. Lines of fatigue pulled at the magnolia-smooth skin around her clear blue eyes, tightened lips that were temptingly kissable. He wished he weren’t so aware of the exhaustion etched on her face, the slight droop to her shoulders, the careful stiffness of her movements as he handed her into the wagon. If she’d ridden the stage all day, and then Baldwin’s buckboard out to the Rocking H, she had to be sore. He hated riding in both contraptions.

“You all right?”

“Yes,” she answered a touch impatiently.

Reaching under the seat, he pulled out a blanket. He shook out the dust, then refolded it and handed it to her.

“Thank you.” Looking surprised, she gave him a grateful smile.

She was a dandy, sleekly curved just like a Thoroughbred. Her creamy skin begged a man to touch it, see if it was as soft as it looked. Her eyes reflected every emotion like a pool of clear water.

Hell. He pulled himself into the wagon and picked up the reins. Adam knew Riley would never marry again, certainly not a lady who probably couldn’t even lift a full bucket of water on her own. It took a special breed of woman to live here. Even those who could didn’t always survive. Riley’s own mother had been strong, had birthed two big sons, but she had died in her sleep two years ago. Her heart had just given out.

His father, Ben, had passed last year, still grieving for Lorelai Holt. He’d built her this ridiculously fine house in the middle of the plains, and she’d lived in it less than three years.

Already Susannah’s magnolia skin had reddened under the October sun and she looked about to wilt. Riley would take her to town, wire Adam to let him know his plan hadn’t worked. Whatever that plan was.

Riley clucked to the horse and slid a sideways glance at Susannah. She sat straight and stiff as a rod next to him, her skirts pressed as tight to her as she could get them. Her other hand, white-knuckled, gripped the seat.

“Adam’s been known to play a practical joke, but never anything like this.”

She murmured something incoherent.

“Why do you think he did it?”

She glanced over, a sudden wariness sliding into her blue eyes. “I guess he had his reasons.”

And she knew what they were, the little baggage! Riley knew by the set of her jaw as she turned away that she wasn’t going to tell him. He resented the flicker of admiration he felt at the sight of a little backbone. Little sister could keep Adam’s secrets. Riley would get his answers soon enough.

The silence between them swelled. She looked uncomfortable and color rode high on her finely honed cheekbones.

“Peppermint?” He offered her a short stick of the candy, fresh from his shirt pocket.

Her gaze dipped to his hand, lingered on the sweet. “No, thank you.”

He nodded and popped the candy into his mouth. He understood her embarrassment. Adam had put them both in an awkward position.

They rode with only the noise of creaking wagon wheels and cawing crows until he topped a hill and saw Whirlwind sprawled out in front of him in its neat T-shaped layout. To the northeast, about eight miles from town, sat Fort Greer.

“Where should I take you? Do you have a place to stay? I can get you a stage ticket to Abilene, so you can catch the train back to St. Louis.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He slid her a look. “I’ll take you to the Whirlwind Hotel. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean.”

And Riley would pay for her room. He told himself that should’ve eased his conscience. He was doing what he could, what he should. She certainly couldn’t stay with him at the Rocking H, not without a chaperon.

A hammer rang against metal as they approached a barnlike building at the edge of town, and Riley lifted a hand in greeting as he drove past Ef Gerard’s blacksmith shop. The burly man, with muscles bulging in his glistening, thick black arms, returned the wave. Blatant curiosity burned in his coffee-colored eyes as he caught sight of Susannah.

Being a Friday afternoon, the town was still relatively quiet. There was no activity outside the livery or the saloon right across the street. Cowboys from nearby ranches or passing cattle drives would change that in a few short hours. They would come to town to spend their pay on whiskey and women, but Susannah would be safe inside the hotel.

Businesses lined both sides of the double-wagon-width main street, with the church-cum-schoolhouse crowning the center point of the T, a north-south street aptly named North. Homes were scattered on either side of the steepled frame building. As his wagon ambled up Whirlwind’s main thoroughfare, Riley caught sight of his brother, Davis Lee Holt, in the sheriff’s office. Good. Riley wanted to talk to him.

The mare plodded past Pearl Anderson’s restaurant, the Pearl, then the telegraph office, which also served as the post office. Across the street, Haskell’s General Store was doing a brisk business. On the same side as the saloon, the store was flanked by the newly opened Prairie Caller newspaper on one side and Cal Doyle’s law office on the other. A neat, tidy frame building on the corner was home to the other Doyle brother, Jed, a gunsmith.

Easing the wagon to a stop in front of the hotel, Riley set the brake and looped the reins around the handle.

Susannah reached into her reticule and offered him a silver dollar. “Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it.”

Immediately indignant, he growled, “Put that away.”

“But—”

“I won’t take your money,” he said evenly, not liking the way she made him feel like a hired hand.

Irritation zipping through him, he hopped down and started around to help her down.

“Miz Phelps!”

Riley rounded the back of the wagon, halting when he saw J. T. and Matt Baldwin standing next to the wagon, both offering a hand up to Susannah.

She smiled, erasing all fatigue from her face. “Hello, Mr. Baldwin, Matthew. How nice to see you again.”

The warmth in her greeting to father and son stirred something deep inside Riley, and he felt an unfamiliar heat charge through his chest.

The elder Baldwin elbowed his son aside. “Let me help you down, Miz Phelps. You boys get her luggage.”

Russ Baldwin appeared suddenly beside his brother. While their father handed her down, the Baldwin brothers moved toward Riley and reached for the trunks in the back of the wagon.

All three Baldwins easily had three to four inches on Riley’s six-foot height. Their broad shoulders and massive thighs made them the biggest men around; one or another of them won the arm-wrestling match every year during the Fourth of July picnic. But they were known to be gentlemen in every sense of the word. Riley had always liked them.

The Baldwin men were more than capable, but shouldn’t he be the one responsible for making sure Susannah was settled?

J.T. deposited her beneath the hotel’s green awning as carefully as if she were blown glass.

“You’ve already had your visit with Riley?” Matt stepped onto the boardwalk, balancing a trunk on his massive shoulder.

She didn’t so much as glance Riley’s way. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry I asked you to lug all my baggage out to his ranch, but I wasn’t sure where I’d be staying.” She gave the three men a blinding smile.

They nodded, each grinning as if they’d tipped back a bottle of Pete Carter’s best whiskey. All kept their gazes locked on her with rapt attention. Riley frowned, but told himself to be glad that she hadn’t shared with them the real reason she’d come out to his ranch.

“I’ll be staying here.”

“Good,” both brothers said in unison.

Riley’s jaw clenched as he turned to retrieve the remaining luggage.

Russ, who had already unloaded the largest trunk, plucked the two valises from the wagon before Riley could. “How are things going at the ranch, Riley?”

“Very well, thanks.” He smiled at Russ, trying to figure out why he was annoyed. He’d done the right thing by bringing her to town. She wasn’t his responsibility. Hell, he hadn’t even known she was coming to see him.

The three men asked after Susannah’s health at least twice each, and she didn’t seem to mind at all. Clearing his throat, Riley said, “I’ll get you a room, Susannah.”