Will blushed slightly, said, "Well, hell, all women look mostly alike under their wrappings, I guess. Never figured so much long hair could be bound up in such a tiny bun though. I didn't imagine that, did I? That was some really long golden hair that went flying past me."

Chad didn't know what to think, other than that his eyes might have been playing tricks on him. He'd seen her profile as she shot out of the bed, at least a partial view, what with her long hair covering a good portion of it. And he could have sworn, for a second there, that his ears had deceived him in leading him to believe it was Marians voice he was hearing, when it was actually Amanda dashing out of the room.

He'd turned to watch her exit as well, and his confusion had continued. From behind, with those long blond curls bouncing around her hips as she ran, and only wearing the ruffled bloomers that fit snugly down to her knees and the thin white camisole that clung like a second skin from her breasts to waist, that female body was just too shapely to belong to the spinster. It had to be Amanda's.

Once she was out of sight, he'd finished lighting the lamp and spotted the spectacles on the table, as well as the puddle of a brown dress on the floor, the same one Marian had worn that day. Confusion was back.

It had been the spinster, but she sure as hell hadn't looked like a spinster just then. The profile had so closely resembled her sister's, he'd been positive for a moment that it was the sister. Yet to look at the two of them in the bright light of day there was absolutely no resemblance between them—well, maybe there was. Maybe he just hadn't noticed it before because it was hard to notice anything about Marian other than those spectacles that made her eyes look deformed.

He held those spectacles up in front of his face, brought them closer to his eyes, winced and dropped them back on the table. He saw nothing but a solid blur when he looked through them. He felt a moment's pity for the girl. She had to be nearly blind to need such thick spectacles. The pity was incredibly brief, though. She was still a mean-tempered, ornery, insulting female that any man in his right mind would stay the hell away from.

He'd been managing that just fine for the most part and would continue to keep his distance—after he returned her spectacles to her in the morning. He was actually looking forward to that, just to clear away the last of his confusion, to get a good look at her without the spectacles detracting from the rest of her features.

When he found Marian the next morning, she was just coming out of her room, and damned if she wasn't already wearing another pair of spectacles. Try as he might, he simply couldn't see beyond the oversize eyes and tightly compressed lips. The nose was the same, if stuck up in the air, the cheeks just as sharply defined, the forehead might be the same, the brows weren't, and the chin he wasn't sure of.

Nor did she give him much chance for an extended observation. Red-cheeked over what had happened last night, she snatched the folded dress and spectacles from him, grudgingly mumbled her thanks, and hurried on past him for a quick breakfast before they departed.

He'd been tempted, really tempted, to snatch away the spectacles riding so high on her nose. He didn't quite have the temerity. Well, he did, he just didn't want to have to deal with the immediate tongue-lashing he'd no doubt get for it, or the harangue and insults that were sure to follow nonstop until he could dump her in Red's lap and be done with her.

And besides, Amanda had finally paid him some attention last night over dinner. He'd been beginning to wonder if she wasn't the least bit interested in him. She gave no typical clues to indicate that she might be, ignored him for the most part. Quite a unique experience for him. But after last night, it was definitely worth considering, getting to know her better—after he got her home.

Just two more days should see them riding into Trenton, then another long day out to the ranch. He could wait that long to see which way the wind blew where Amanda was concerned. And as for her sister, he wished a strong wind would just blow her away.

Chapter 10

WHEN THEY WERE A day away from Trenton, Chad began wondering whether he was ready to have it out with his father again. A confrontation was sure to take place if he rode into Trenton. Which was why he debated long and hard with himself whether or not to send the ladies into town with just Will, or to accompany them.

If he didn't go in with them, then he'd have to explain to them why, and the thought of that pretty much decided him in the end. Besides, three months away from home was long enough, more than enough time for Stuart to have cooled off. They should be able to discuss the matter of marriage calmly now, rationally, without each of them blowing off the handle ... Well, he could hope.

One more day and Stuart would know he was back in the county. And he'd find out if his father could be reasonable about his grandiose dreams of founding the biggest cattle empire around—at Chad's expense.

The ladies were settled into yet another hotel and would be dining soon. Chad left to find a saloon since he wasn't hungry yet. The sun had set, or at least the last tints of red would be gone from the sky in a matter of minutes. A storm was in the area, but would hopefully be gone by morning. He really didn't want any delays at this point.

He almost didn't see Marian standing in the shadows on the porch, staring at the storm clouds moving in from the west. She turned to see who was behind her, then turned back, ignoring him. He bristled only for a second over the cold shoulder, then gave a mental sigh of relief, since he didn't really want to talk to her.

"Is my aunt a—nice person?"

He stopped at the top of the porch steps, tilted his hat back. There was nervousness in that question. If it had been as abrasive as her usual remarks to him, he would have pretended not to hear her and kept going. It still struck him odd, what she was asking, considering Red was her relative, not his.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, my father had many faults, and she is his sister," she replied.

"Your father wasn't a nice person?"

"That's a matter of opinion—and whom you ask. Amanda would say he was the nicest person in the world."

She turned slightly now, not to face him, but so she could look at him sideways. Primed to ignore him again was how he saw it.

"But you wouldn't?"

"He wasn't mean or anything like that. Yes, I suppose I can say he was nice in a general sense. But the question was about my aunt," she reminded him.

"You haven't communicated with her at all since she moved west?"

She shook her head. "No, and I barely remember her from before she left."

"Well, she's a sweetheart. I can't think of a single person who knows her who doesn't like her."

"Really?"

She sounded like a scared little girl begging for some reassurance. Despite how much he disliked her, and that was a lot, he still found himself smiling and telling her what she needed to hear.

"Yes, really. She's kindhearted, generous to a fault. She'd probably give you the shirt off her back if she thought you needed it. And I wouldn't be surprised if she's as nervous about meeting you as you are about meeting her. She never had any kids of her own. Not that you can be considered a child ..."

An image of that luscious womanly body running out of his room the other night flashed into his mind. No, definitely not a child.

"What about her husband?" Marian asked. "I do remember Father mentioning once that she moved west immediately after she married."

Chad felt a moments discomfort, not liking having to be the bearer of bad news. And he couldn't help being amazed at the lack of communication in their family, that she hadn't already heard this particular news.

Red and her brother should have at least kept in touch over the years. Of course, for as long as he'd known Red, she'd never mentioned having family elsewhere. Not that that was odd, when a lot of folks came west just to forget what they were leaving behind.

To get the subject over with for his own sake, he was probably a little more blunt than called for. "Your uncle died last year. Your aunt has been running their ranch on her own ever since."

"Goodness, I had no idea."

She didn't seem sorrowful over the matter, so he guessed, "You didn't know him?"

"No, I don't recall ever meeting him. There was a mention once—" She paused, frowning as she sifted through her memories. "I think it was my mother who said it, that Kathleen married Frank Dunn just so she could leave Haverhill. I remember thinking at the time that that must have been a powerful desire she had, to see more of the world."

Or a powerful desire to get away from her small corner of it, Chad was thinking.

There could likely have been a rift between brother and sister. That would explain why neither had kept in touch with the other. Yet they were still family, and the only family each had left, thus Red got guardianship of his daughters.

"Well, you'll have lots of time to ask her all about it," Chad pointed out. "We'll be in Trenton tomorrow night, and at the ranch by late the next day."

When it occurred to him that he was standing there having a normal conversation with the spinster, a slight bit of color rode up his cheeks. But then full dark had arrived, and although he could still see her, because his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he couldn't see her clearly, so it was easy to forget that she was the ornery sister with the wild imagination.

The rain arrived a moment later, a full downpour, with mist from it floating up onto the porch and urging the two occupants back inside. Well, hell, so much for finding a friendly saloon tonight, Chad thought.

In the small, well-lit lobby, he had just enough time to see Marian shove her spectacles up her nose and flounce off without another word. So much for normal. Her rudeness prevailed. She didn't even bid him so much as good night.

Chapter 11

RIDING INTO TRENTON LATE the next afternoon, Chad tried to view the town through a strangers eyes, as Amanda would see it. It was a good-sized town, bigger than most of the ones the ladies had passed through getting there. It had grown considerably from when his father had setded in the area.

The original main street was much longer now. Two blocks had been added to the right, three blocks were squared off on the left, with two more beyond that. And the town was still growing, despite there being no indication that the railroad would ever reach it. But it had a stage line, with connecting routes to Waco up north and Houston down south, and passengers passing through had been known to like what they saw in Trenton and elect to settle there instead of continuing on.

The Kinkaid ranch was partly responsible for the growth, even though it was situated some ten miles west of town. Stuart could have built his own store on the ranch to see to the needs of his large force of employees, but he preferred to support the town instead. There was also a wide selection of farmers settled east of town, and a sawmill up north only a day away.

Straight lines, wide streets, shade trees planted long ago a decent size now, there wasn't much the town didn't offer. Three hotels, four boardinghouses, two more restaurants in addition to the three dining rooms in the hotels that were open to the public, a general store as well as many shops dedicated to specific items like shoes, guns, saddles, furniture, jewelry, even several clothing stores. Three doctors had set up shop, two lawyers, a dentist, two carpenters, and other folk with assorted occupations. For entertainment there were four saloons, two of them considered dance halls, a theater, and several brothels on the outskirts of town.

It was mostly a quiet town. Stuart frowned on excessive rowdiness in his men, as did the saloon owners, and while the cowhands would and did raise hell on the weekends, it was more good-natured, rather than destructive, and a good many of them would show up in one of the town's two churches come Sunday morning.

Occasionally there'd be a gunfight in the streets, but more often than not the sheriff would intervene and try to talk the combatants out of it, usually with success. It was too bad he was retiring next month. He'd kept the peace in Trenton for many years, had been re-elected four times.