Chad had expected to cause somewhat of a commotion, riding into town that day. The rift with his father and his taking off would have made the gossip rounds in town. Red's cowboys had brought back the news that Stuart had hired not one but three trackers to find him, and of course, not one of them had discovered where he'd gone into hiding.

So he was surprised, even a little perturbed, when the Concord Stage, much bigger than the smaller stage that usually passed through town, drew more notice dian he did. In fact, that stage drew so much notice that they were pulling up in front of the Albany Hotel before anyone actually recognized him riding beside it.

But then the expected greetings and remarks came at him from all sides as a crowd started gathering and growing there on the steps of the hotel.

"That you, Chad?"

"Where you been?"

"Your father know you're back, boy?"

"Where you been keeping yerself?"

"That filly cried for all of a week, I heard, when you ran off on her."

"This mean you're getting hitched now?"

"We getting invited to the shindig?"

"Where you been?"

Chad answered none of the questions, hitched his horse to the rail in front of the hotel, and moved to open the coach door. Amanda stepped out first, and that pretty much silenced the crowd. He'd figured it would. Trenton didn't see many women as pretty as Amanda Laton. There was almost a collective gasp before the silence.

Amanda usually delivered a complaint or two each day as their journey ended. He couldn't really blame her. A delicate woman like her would get easily worn-out with so much traveling. But she held her tongue with such a large audience on hand, even smiled at such a welcome. A good many of the men staring at her probably fell in love in those few moments that she moved gracefully into the hotel.

Chad stayed with her, but only to avoid a new round of questions that were sure to start up as soon as Amanda was out of sight. At least he told himself that was why he took her arm and led her inside, that it had nothing to do with subtly showing that he'd staked his claim. But then he had noticed that even Spencer Evans had stepped out on the porch of his saloon to observe the commotion. Chad hoped he'd stay there. He had enough on his mind without having a confrontation with his old nemesis.

He and Spencer went way back. Born the same year, they'd known each other all their lives. For a brief time, half of one summer anyway, they'd even got along—but they were too young then to have figured out yet that they didn't really like each other.

Competition got in the way of what might have become friendship. Chad supposed that was natural enough, their being the same age and near the same weight and height. Soon enough they were competing over anything and everything. Schoolwork, fishing, hunting, shooting, racing, didn't matter what, they each had to be the better at it. But Spencer turned out to be a sore loser and had started many of those first fights.

It wasn't long before they didn't need much of an excuse to fight, since the fighting turned out to be just another form of competition between them. They'd busted up the schoolroom so often in those days, the town officials elected to abandon the small, one-room schoolhouse in favor of the church, in hopes it would have a more calming influence on the boys. It didn't, but at least they took their fights out into the churchyard thereafter.

They might have outgrown these tendencies, might still have become friends someday and laughed over the antics of their youth. Anything was possible. But then they got old enough to start noticing females . .

Wilma Jones was the first they both took a liking to. Six fights later and after Spence had carved "I love you, Wilma" on every single plank of her house late one night, the Joneses moved back East, taking Wilma with them.

Agatha Winston was the second girl they both noticed, again at the same time. They were sixteen by then, and their fights were getting a little more bloody. Aggie happened to get in the middle of one of them and got her nose broken. Chad guiltily suspected it was his fist that had done it, but he'd never been quite sure. She'd refused to talk to either of them after that and still didn't, even though she was married with three kids now.

The kicker, though, was Clare Johnson. She'd bloomed late, or they just hadn't paid attention since she was a couple of years younger than they were. But she was a real nice girl, always helping out the younger children in school. She aspired to be a teacher herself someday.

Chad became infatuated with her soon after his seventeenth birthday, his first—and last—serious interest in a girl. He took her on a picnic, invited her to keep him company while he fished, danced every dance with her at the shindig following the Wilkses' barn-raising, and was sure he was the first to steal a kiss from her because she'd blushed so bright red afterward. He never would have thought to do more than that. She was a nice girl, the kind you courted slowly, then married.

He tried to keep his interest a secret this time. He didn't take her out to places where Spencer would notice—Spencer was too uppity to go to barn-raisings, so Chad was sure he hadn't heard about the dancing. But Spencer was doing his own secret courting of Clare that Chad didn't know about—until it was too late. And Spencer didn't abide by the rules, he didn't stop with a kiss.

He actually seduced Clare, then the son of a bitch bragged about it, so Chad would know he'd lost. Spencer didn't consider that his bragging would effectively ruin Clare—or he didn't care. It was more important to him to win.

The fights escalated after that. Chad and Spencer couldn't be in the same room without trying to kill each other. And that sorry state of affairs continued until Spencers father, Tom Evans, finally got fed up with paying his share of the damages his boy had caused and shipped him off to finish his schooling with relatives back East. The town breathed a collective sigh of relief-—until months later the peace and quiet actually got a bit boring and some folks were bemoaning the loss of their weekly entertainment in watching Chad and Spencer go after each other wherever they happened to meet.

When Spencer Evans finally returned to town after his father's death to take over the Not Here Saloon, the townsfolk were filled with both dread and expectancy. But enough time had passed, both boys were men now, and fortunately, the town now had two saloons, so Chad actually made an effort to avoid Spencer. He didn't always succeed, and there were still the occasional fights between them, but nothing like what had gone on during their youth.

Clare was still in Trenton. She'd helped in her father's tin shop until he died, then she sold it. She worked in Spencers saloon now, handled the entertainment, onstage and otherwise. And every time Chad thought of her these days, he despised Spencer even more.

But Amanda wouldn't be staying in town more than one night, and Reds ranch was a good days ride from town, so he didn't expect Spencer to come sniffing around. Besides, Red wouldn't allow a seducer of innocents to court her very innocent niece.

Chapter 12

"YOU DISMISSED THE COACH? That was our personal coach!"

Chad tipped his hat back, looked up at the morning sky, counted to ten. It looked like Amanda was going to require all of his patience today. Good thing he had a lot.

He glanced back at the ladies standing at the top of the steps in front of the hotel. Only Amanda was glaring at him incredulously. Marian was examining her nails in a somewhat suspect display of indifference. Their maid looked bored as usual.

He'd brought them three mounts to ride. He'd spent a good thirty minutes in discussion over those horses to make sure they were suitable for ladies before he left the stable. He supposed he should have warned them that they'd be traveling the rest of the way on horseback. But he simply hadn't thought it was necessary.

Everyone and their mother got around by horseback out here.

Patience well in hand again, he told Amanda, "It wasn't your personal—anything. The only reason you got to use it as long as you did was because I browbeat the depot employee into allowing you to use it, since it was one of their drivers that abandoned you and the coach. I had to threaten to break his neck if he didn't agree. But that coach is too big for the narrow road out to the ranch. Besides, Will took off with it at the crack of dawn, so it's long gone already."

Amanda took on a mulish look. "I am not riding a horse. You'll just have to rent us a carriage then."

Well hell, when she got ornery, she really got ornery. It was a good thing she was so pretty that a man could overlook a few annoying traits.

He sighed. "Horses you can rent. Wagons to haul supplies you can rent. But if there's even one carriage in this town, I'd be mighty surprised. Trenton isn't big enough to need them. Folks around here walk where they want to get to. And lastly, the narrow track out to the ranch winds a good distance out of the way to keep to flat land, takes an extra half day using it, which means sleeping outdoors for the night. With horses you can cut a straight path and get there before dark tonight."

"Then you'll just have to rent us a wagon, won't you?" Amanda replied.

His explanation had been reasonable. Did she really want to rough it on the side of the road? Or was she just being stubborn? Some women, when they took a stand, refused to back down from it for any reason, even when proven wrong without a doubt.

"I've already done that for your trunks. The driver will be here at any moment to pick them up and get them delivered by tomorrow."

"Then what is the problem? I'll simply ride with the wagon."

"You're missing the point," Chad replied. "That means an extra day—"

"No, you are missing the point," she cut in. "I am not riding on the back of a horse, not today, not tomorrow, not ever! So if some other means of transport cannot be arranged, I'll be staying right here."

"You won't win this battle, Mr. Kinkaid," Marian inserted. There was a distinct note of humor in her tone, but whether it was at his expense or her sister's was anyone's guess. "She's afraid of horses."

"I am not!" Amanda swung around to face her sister. "I just refuse to subject myself to the extreme aches associated with sitting on a horse for any length of time."

"You won't like riding on a wagon," Chad pointed out. "It's not designed for comfort either. Nor is sleeping on the ground for that matter."

"On the ground? Don't be absurd. I would sleep in the wagon, of course."

"The wagon would be loaded with—"

"It will just have to be unloaded," Amanda interrupted him again, and in a tone that defied argument.

"It won't fit all three of you."

"And your point is?"

He stared at her incredulously. He didn't miss the implication. A wagon just for her own individual use was what she was saying, yet where he came from, what was good for one sibling was good for the rest. Was he going to have to go through this whole argument again with the spinster if he agreed to this nonsense? Get another wagon just for them all to sleep in?

Marian actually laughed—at him. His expression over Amanda's remark right then would probably have made a bull snicker. With less patience, he might have exploded at that point. But for some odd reason, he didn't mind her humor. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh, and the sound was actually pleasant, even somewhat contagious. He didn't laugh as well, but the urge to do so did take a few notches off of his annoyance.

She must have read his mind, too, because she said, "Guess it's a good thing I don't mind sleeping on the ground—or riding a horse for that matter."

"You've never been on a horse before either," Amanda said petulantly.

"Yes, but unlike you, I'm willing to try new things. And how difficult can it be, plodding along at a walk beside a wagon."

Marian was rubbing it in, that they were going to be delayed just to accommodate Amanda's stubbornness. It didn't work though. Not even a slight blush was forthcoming from the lovely blond.

And then the wagon in question pulled into view, coming around the corner just down the block. Marian started laughing again.

"Oh my God, mules," she gasped out between chuckles. "I could probably get to Aunt Kathleen's quicker if I walked."