Johanna Lindsey - A Man to Call My Own

She did her job, she did it extremely well, but she didn't care if she kept it or not because she knew she could find another job easily. Which was why she was treated more as an equal than as a servant, and why both sisters valued her. Marian also considered her a friend. Even Amanda, who had driven away five other maids, never once turned a harsh word on her. Ella Mae wouldn't tolerate it, would up and leave, and Amanda knew that. She wasn't about to risk losing someone who did her hair up perfectly and kept her wardrobe in excellent condition.

Ella Mae was sometimes too frank, though, and this was one of those times. Marian didn't want to talk about her feelings for Chad, which were hopeless in her mind, so best left unshared even with a friend.

But Ella Mae persisted. "Do you want him for yourself?"

She could have denied it, but there wasn't much point. She might have kept Amanda from noticing the direction of her yearning looks, but Ella Mae was more often with her than with Amanda, and she'd raised a questioning brow at Marian more than once about it.

"I think I do," she admitted.

"Then tell him."

"I can't. You know how jealous she'll get. And it's her he wants."

"He doesn't know her. He doesn't know you either. You should let him get to know you."

"Stop it. You know what happens when a man shows any interest in me. Amanda then reels him in and keeps him dangling indefinitely—and rubs it in my face."

"Those were boys she did that with. You've been making yourself as ugly as you can for several years now. You've never given a man a chance. They can't all be so gullible to fall for her ploys."

"Maybe not," Marian replied. "But I'm not going to be responsible for even one more man getting hurt like that. I can bide my time."

"Biding time is easy—and gets you nowhere," Ella Mae pointed out.

"I'm in no hurry."

"Aren't you? You want to lose this one that you really want?"

Marian sighed. "I don't have him to lose. He's already made his preference plain."

"So has she. She's shown no interest in him. She's barely civil to him."

Marian grinned at that point. "Which is why I can bide my time. He's different from the others. He hasn't made a fool of himself over her yet. I think he may be waiting to see if she's worth the effort."

"Or waiting until he doesn't have to worry about keeping us alive."

Marian made a face of disgust. "Oh, sure, shoot my conclusion down. Some encouragement you are."

Ella Mae chuckled with a shake of her head. "Mari, you make life too complicated. And he's made his move. He kissed her—or thinks he did. Consider that while you try to get to sleep."

HER GUILT WAS INCREDIBLE. Marian woke up with it, wallowed in it, couldn't shake it. The disguise she fostered was deceitful enough, but she did it for a good reason: to save other people from Amanda's spiteful manipulations. But actually to pretend to be Amanda...

Her sister had done that often when they were children, just to get people mad at Marian. She thought it was a wonderful joke, though she was the only one who found it funny. Marian had tried it only once before, with their father, because she so craved the attention he gave only to Amanda. But he hadn't been fooled. He'd known immediately that she wasn't his favorite, and the scolding she got was so embarrassing she'd never tried it again.

It wasn't pleasant, sharing the same face with someone you detested. It wasn't fun either, always worrying about other peoples feelings to the complete exclusion of your own. It was simply hell having a sister like Amanda.

Marian avoided the campfire that morning, where Chad was handing out a quick breakfast before they started on the last leg of their journey. She preferred going hungry to being near him just then, she was so afraid he was going to see through her disguise.

She did accept a cup of coffee though from the wagon driver who, the night before, had set up his own fire on the other side of the wagon. When asked why two had been necessary, he'd mentioned something about deceiving would-be robbers, and he'd added that even when he was alone on the road, he always lit two fires, then never slept near either.

The mountain man had been moved into the wagon sometime before anyone else had awoken. He must have regained consciousness and cooperated because there was simply no way Chad, even with help from the driver, could have hoisted a man that size. And it had been done so quietly, the women sleeping under the wagon hadn't been disturbed.

Marian just happened to notice his bound feet near the back of the wagon when she circled round it. Chad obviously didn't want to leave Leroy behind, but didn't want the others aware of his presence either. To spare him a lot of questions, she supposed.

She still kept an eye on Chad, dreading the moment when he came face-to-face with Amanda. She didn't trust him not to mention the kiss, even though she'd warned him not to. And Amanda wouldn't pretend ignorance. If something caught her curiosity, she'd demand an explanation.

Amanda was the last to make an appearance. It was too much to hope that she wouldn't feel like eating that morning. She went right to the campfire, took the offered plate of food without a thank-you, and proceeded to ignore Chad completely as usual.

Last night Marian had actually been sorry to learn that Chad's father owned a ranch. That meant he might not be completely without means as both sisters had first thought, and Amanda's interest in Chad might perk up. But then Amanda had missed hearing about his father's ranch, once again having slept through all the danger and excitement. With luck, this time, though, she wouldn't find out about it after the fact.

Ella Mae was still at the campfire, too. Amanda started talking to her. Marian didn't have to be present to know her sister was now complaining about the discomforts of sleeping outdoors—now that she had an interested ear. Not that Ella Mae was the least bit interested. Like Marian, Ella Mae had learned long ago how to tune Amanda out.

Chad was listening, however, and after a few minutes, he was frowning. Marian would give anything to know what the frown was for.

It could simply be that Amanda had just thoughtlessly insulted his cooking efforts. It could be that it was the first time he was being treated to one of her diatribes—he usually only caught the tail end of them when she was almost out of steam and not nearly so derogatory. But it was more likely because she was treating him as if he weren't present while he was sitting only a couple feet from her.

He'd probably assumed that things would be different now between him and her. A natural conclusion after a kiss that hadn't been rejected. He'd stated his interest very clearly with that kiss. She'd done the same by accepting it. The cold shoulder he was getting from the woman whom he'd thought he'd kissed probably felt like a slap in the face—which is what Marian should have done last night, rather than let temptation get the better of her good sense.

Finished eating, Amanda carelessly tossed her plate toward the fire and started to head back toward the carriage to finish preparations for leaving. His frown more intense, Chad started to follow her. Marian sucked in her breath, watching them, waiting for him to grab Amanda and turn her around, to demand an explanation for her—what? Her lack of interest, when she had no interest in him to begin with?

Marian's guilt mounted. She should stop him, take him aside and make her confession. He was going to despise her for it. But she'd already gone to great lengths to make him despise her anyway, so that shouldn't matter to her.

She took a step toward him, but he stopped. She stopped. He spent all of five seconds staring at Amanda's retreating back then swung around with what seemed almost a shrug. A shrug? Surely not. Or was a kiss stolen in the middle of the night not important to him? Maybe he kissed all the pretty women he came across if given the opportunity.

Marian could breathe again, but now she was frowning.

AMANDA WAS ALMOST TOO confusing to bother with. That was the conclusion Chad reached that morning. Well, almost. But Amanda definitely did seem like two different women, soft and yielding at night, a veritable termagant during the day.

Rudeness must run in their family, he figured. No, that wasn't true. There wasn't a rude bone in Red's body, and she was the Laton sisters' blood relative.

The confusion he was beset with now was his own fault. He should have stuck to his guns and waited until the trip was over before finding out which way the wind blew with Amanda Laton.

He knew from experience that tempers could flare easily when you were doing something you didn't want to do, and he'd overheard enough comments to know that she hadn't wanted to come to Texas in the first place and was hating everything about the trip there.

So her flare-ups of rudeness were actually somewhat understandable, or at least, there was a pretty good reason for them. Once the trip was over, she'd probably be completely different.

But she was so damn beautiful last night, there was just no way he could have restrained himself from kissing her. And she'd tried to rescue him. He was touched by that, never would have expected it from her. She was always so aloof, so indifferent—to him anyway.

But the previous night, she'd melted in his arms. He'd been surprised, delighted, had felt his desire rising, then, strangely—it just didn't feel right. And for a moment, he'd actually wondered why he'd kissed her.

It had nothing to do with the kiss, that had been sweet. It had nothing to do with how easily she'd yielded. It had everything to do with her. She just didn't add up, was too confusing by half, cold as ice one moment, hot the next, as if she were two ... different ... women. No way. Campfire light wasn't very bright, but they'd have to be twins for him to make that kind of mistake—well, hell.

He shouldn't feel poleaxed. He'd seen it coming, just hadn't acknowledged it. Siblings could resemble each other closely, but what were the odds on having so many identical features unless they were twins. Of course they were twins. It was just that one was blind as a bat and ornery as sin. And there was no way he would have kissed that one.

So they were twins. That changed nothing, and still didn't explain his confusion over Amanda. Or maybe it was just him. Maybe he wasn't as interested as he'd thought.

Actually, that was probably the whole problem. He should be interested, but was he? Really? Or did Amanda remind him too much of Luella, a gorgeous outer shell with nothing he liked very much underneath? Which was another reason he'd been waiting for the trip to end before pursuing her, to give her time to relax, or recover—depending on how she looked at it—to setde in and be her normal self again.

He expected a big difference in her attitude in the next few days. She'd have nothing more to complain about. Red's home was Western in flavor, but very comfortable. And she had one of the best cooks in the county working in her kitchen. Once her aches and pains were gone and she was surrounded by comfort and family, he'd find out what Amanda was really like.

He'd seen her worst side—at least he hoped that was as bad as she got, because he'd never seen much worse. He sure was looking forward to seeing her better side.

* * *

The carriage rolled up to the Twisting Barb a little before noon, the wagon with the luggage, and Leroy, probably thirty minutes behind them. Chad would have to explain about Leroy. They'd been too far out in the middle of nowhere just to leave him behind. No homesteads close enough for him to walk to if they took his horse to delay him. And the road was not well enough traveled for someone to find him if they left him there still tied up.

But he didn't really expect any more trouble from Leroy, now that they were at the ranch. Someone could take him back to find his horse—Chad hadn't bothered to look very hard for it. And he'd emptied Leroy's guns of ammunition, so he could have those back.

His father must be getting senile, or desperate, to send someone like Leroy after him. Especially when he would have been told that Chad was heading to the Twisting Barb. He couldn't figure out the point of it— unless it was to make a point. Stuart could have easily ridden over to Red's ranch himself, would probably have beat them there—and maybe that's what he'd done. And perhaps not finding Chad there before nightfall last night, as he'd thought he would, he'd sent Leroy to find out why.