Red bit her lip. It wasn't hard to decipher the maid's meaning. The noise was very obvious, which made it hard for her not to want to interfere.

"But won't they—hurt each other?"

"No more'n two cats in an alley. They don't really know how to fight. A few scratches, maybe a bruise, a lot of rolling around. It's not the first time, ma'am."

"I see."

It was all Red could think to say, but she didn't see at all. Those weren't children on the other side of that door brawling, but grown women. And although it had been apparent from what had happened outside, that her nieces, or at least one of them, was going to be a problem, she hadn't guessed how much of a problem until now.

This was entirely her brother's fault. She had known Mortimer wouldn't make a good father any more than he had made a good brother. The kind of favoritism he'd practiced since they were children wasn't normal. He'd picked her twin sister to be his constant companion, and Red might as well not have existed for all the attention those two paid her—except when they wanted to rub in the fact that she would always be excluded from their little circle. She'd grown up with it, had hated him for it, and had seen it happening again when his daughters were born.

It was the major reason she'd wanted to leave Haverhill, and why she'd married Frank Dunn, who'd had plans to start a ranch out West. She hadn't loved him. He'd been a means to an end. She'd figured that moving out West would place her far enough away from her brother to afford her a measure of peace and happiness. And it had. She'd had no further communication with Mortimer and his family. She'd wanted none.

She'd used Frank. There was no nicer way to put it. But she'd repaid him by being a good wife. He'd had no complaints and didn't blame her for not giving him any children. Well, he wouldn't, because a doctor had implied the fault was his, not hers. He'd felt somewhat guilty after that for not giving her any children, but, such was life, and they'd had a good one together until he died.

Well, actually, not so much good, as comfortable. And if another man was capable of making her heart race, no one knew it but her.

Her heart had done a lot of racing last night when Stuart had showed up and pretty much invited himself to dinner. She'd gotten through the evening without making a fool of herself though, at least, not too much of a fool.

She'd giggled a few times, which she rarely did. She'd been tongue-tied a bunch more. And she'd blushed more than she had since she was a girl. But then she'd never been alone with Stuart before. Anytime she'd ever seen him, other people had been around.

She hadn't expected it to be any different last night either when she'd invited him and his men to dinner while they waited for Chad to arrive. But she didn't know his men never ate with him, and only he'd been sitting there in her dining room when she showed up for dinner—and started acting like a schoolgirl.

But Stuart had probably figured it was guilt making her behave so oddly, because she'd housed his son for the last three months widiout letting him know about it, when the whole county knew he was looking for Chad. At least he hadn't remarked on it to her. And he hadn't expressed any disappointment in her either, when she explained why Chad was staying with her. In fact, he'd scolded her a bit for not coming to him for help when she'd needed it.

She'd put Stuart up for the night when it became obvious that Chad wasn't going to make an appearance last night. His men were put up in the bunkhouse, but there was no question about putting the biggest rancher in the county there. She'd gotten no sleep, of course, with him just down the hall from her. And she'd made herself deliberately scarce at breakfast time. She hadn't seen him again until the maid had come to tell her the girls were arriving.

And what a surprise they were.

They were twins, but most folks probably wouldn't notice that right off. She remembered they had been identical when they were children, and it had been difficult to tell them apart. But not anymore.

Poor Marian had had to introduce herself. Red had taken her for a servant at first glance. But she'd realized her mistake quick enough on closer examination. Such an odd look the girl had, with those spectacles, and such a shame she had to wear them.

Amanda, now, was as pretty as expected. Even as children, it had been obvious the girls would be beauties, and Amanda had certainly turned out to be just that. Her behavior, too, had been somewhat expected. The result of being spoiled beyond redemption. She was so much like Red's sister had been, it was uncanny. And exactly why Red had left home. She had refused to watch her brother's favoritism divide his daughters, as it had his sisters.

She hadn't been there to see it, but obviously, it had happened just as she'd figured it would. The little she had seen so far said it all. Amanda had turned out to be a spoiled bitch. Marian had turned out to be a meek little mouse—well, maybe not. The mouse didn't usually fight the cat....

* * *

Downstairs, Stuart was laughing his head off. He'd been doing so since the third loud crash above them.

The first had been merely startling, the second had been curious, but the third was a definite brawl, and every loud noise thereafter set him off again with another round of laughter.

Chad knew exactly why Stuart was so amused. His father's choice for him might have been lacking in smarts, but she was pretty and quiet. While the one he'd expressed interest in was upstairs breaking furniture and Lord knows what else, and could screech loud enough to raise the rafters.

"I feel sorry for the ugly one," Stuart remarked when he caught his breath.

"Yeah, you look real sorry," Chad replied dryly, and then felt compelled to add, "And Marian isn't ugly, she's just blind as a bat."

"Either way, she won't be able to hold her own for long. The other has a vicious temperament. Saw that with the way she slammed in here."

"Is it just because I might be interested in Amanda that you feel obliged to insult the hell out of her?" Chad asked with a frown.

"Was I doing that?" Stuart shot back innocently.

Chad gave his father a look of disgust, which just garnered another chuckle from him. And although Stuart was possibly just teasing him, the remarks now had him worried about the spinster. He didn't like her, but he didn't want to see her get hurt, either.

Without another thought, he headed toward the stairs. Stuart called out behind him, "Takes guts to break up a female brawl. I've seen both women turn on a man who tried it before. Damn near scratched his eyes out."

Was that supposed to stop him? Particularly when Stuart was laughing again? Red did, though, coming back down the stairs, blocking his way.

"Don't interfere," she said, seeing his determined look. "I've been told this is normal for them."

"Who told you that?"

"Their maid. She's up there guarding their door. Seems to think they'll both be in a better mood after letting off steam that way."

Red looked dazed still. Chad put a sympathetic arm around her. She had to be taking this hard. This had to be a far cry from what she'd been expecting.

He tried to put it in perspective for her. "The maid's probably right. It was a hell of a trip for them, train robbers, stage robbers, a mountain man showing up in the middle of the night intent on dragging me home at the point of a gun. One thing after another since their ship docked, when they come from a quiet little town back East where nothing much ever happened. Could make anyone blow her top."

She gave him a curious look. "You don't have to make excuses for them."

"I know. Just trying to make it sound better for myself," he replied.

She tsked at him in annoyance, which brought on a slight blush. He was supposed to be making her feel better, not himself.

They both noticed at about the same time that the noise had quieted down behind them. Not completely. The girls were talking to each other, nothing distinguishable, but at least that meant neither of them was dead.

In all seriousness, Chad told his friend, "Do yourself a favor, Red. Get them married soon and off your hands. That's my advice."

"Are you looking to help me out there?" she grinned up at him.

"If all she needed was to blow off a little steam, and if she starts acting like the lady she's supposed to be, I just might."

"She? Never mind, I can guess." She gave him a sad look and a sigh. "Let's hope you're right."

He wondered why Red suddenly looked sad, but decided he'd rather not know. It was probably no more than her overall reaction to this reunion with her nieces. And who could blame her for being so disappointed?

Chapter 20

HOME, MARIAN HAD NEVER given much thought to the noise she and Amanda made when they went after each other. They were careful to keep that kind of fighting private. And since no one ever remarked on it, she just assumed that no one ever knew.

There had been no avoiding that fight today. It had nearly taken place in public, right there on the porch. But Amanda had come to her senses and waited until they were alone.

They'd been given separate rooms, thank God. Amanda hadn't stayed in hers, though, had followed along when their aunt showed Marian to hers. Marian knew then what was coming, was braced for it. Ella Mae knew, too, and tried to prevent it by not leaving when Kathleen did. Amanda actually told her to get out. And no sooner did the door close than she threw herself at Marian.

It was one of their more vicious fights. They both came away with clumps of hair in their hands, skin under their nails, teeth marks, and bruises aplenty. Amazingly, not a single mark marred their faces afterward. But then it was almost an unwritten rule between them that their faces were out of bounds. All other bruises could be hidden, but facial marks would be evidence of their undignified scuffles. And then, too, scratching one face was like scratching the other, when both faces were identical.

There was no winner. There rarely was. Their fights would end when they both got tired, and since they were pretty much in the same shape, they usually got tired at about the same time. This one was no different and soon enough wound down to verbal insults, as most of them did.

"You could have at least waited until our aunt got to know you a little better before showing her what a shrew you can be," Marian said as she pulled herself up onto her bed.

Amanda had gone straight to the nearest mirror to examine her face. "Why?" she shot back. "I don't intend to be here long enough to get to know her at all."

"And where will you be?"

"On my way back home, of course."

"With husband in tow? You really think you can find someone to marry you here that quick?"

"Don't be an ass," Amanda swung around to snort. "There's no one out here worthy of me."

"So you're going to give up your inheritance?" Marian concluded.

"You can be really dense sometimes, Mari. No, I didn't come all this way to give up anything. Aunt Kathleen will be more than happy to send me home, and with advance approval of any man I want to marry."

"You plan to make yourself that much of a headache?"

"If I have to," Amanda purred.

Marian shook her head. She shouldn't be surprised. Amanda rarely did anything without a motive in mind.

"As much as I'd love to see you on your way, you're probably deceiving yourself. Some people actually take their duty seriously, Mandy."

"Don't call me that. Amanda is much more sophisticated than that childish nickname."

"But the shoe fits, sister dear."

"Like your childish effort to disguise that you're my twin? That kind of shoe?"

Marian smiled when Amanda's lips twisted with anger. It had taken many years for her to develop the cast-iron skin she needed to be able to shrug off her sister's insults. To give an appearance of indifference. And to give back as good as she got. As long as no one else was involved, as long as it was just the two of them, she couldn't be cowed anymore. It was only when someone else was in danger of drawing Amanda's vicious interest that Marian would back down.

"Do you want competition again?" Marian replied with a false look of surprise. "You can't stand being the center of attention anymore? Well, then, why didn't you say ..."