In a Cowboy’s Arms (27 page)

They emerged into the far end of the kitchen. A plump gentleman worked at the stove and barely spared them a glance. The housekeeper greeted them with a smile.

“Miss Jennean is waiting for you in the dining room,” she said and motioned to a door to their right.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Dade gave Maggie a nudge that direction.

She balked a moment, reminded that the Crossroads had other visitors now. “You’re sure nobody else is joining us?”

“Positive,” Mrs. Wray said. “Miss Jennean always guards her visitors’ privacy whether they are simply taking a meal here or availing themselves of other pleasures.”

Now that was surely an interesting way to put it. If Maggie had her way tonight, she’d avail herself of the same pleasures with the handsome man at her side. But first she’d have a few moments alone with Miss Jennean.

They stepped into a dining room that was small and cozy and not the least bit pretentious. Miss Jennean sat at the head of the table, looking more like royalty than the queen of a prairie brothel.

“Just in time,” she said, smiling at Maggie and then Dade.

A pearl pendant the size of a robin’s egg rested between her breasts, which were nearly as luminous as the stone. Her deep blue gown gave her almond-shaped eyes a knowing, sultry look that the curve of her ruby lips mirrored.

No wonder the woman had made a good living from her trade. She oozed sensuality–something Maggie was certain that she lacked.

Dade held the chair for her, and she quickly slid onto it. She thought nothing of him seating her until she heard his breath catch.

She was baffled at what had captured his interest until she heard Miss Jennean’s throaty laugh. The lady smiled and slid a finger across her own bare bosom to toy with the pearl.

And then she knew what Dade had been staring at.

Maggie dropped her gaze to her neckline and felt her cheeks burn. Sure enough he could see the valley of her bosom clearly. Why, she might as well be naked.

“I trust your bath was satisfactory?” Miss Jennean asked her.

“It was heavenly,” she said as she spread her napkin on her lap and surreptitiously adjusted her neckline. “Thank you for the loan of the gown.”

“It fits you well.” Miss Jennean took a sip of her wine and looked across the table at Dade. “Don’t you think so, Mr. Logan?”

Dade stared at Maggie’s bosom and smiled, his gaze lifting slowly to her eyes. “Yes, ma’am, the gown does fit her like a glove in places.”

“Really, Dade.” Maggie fidgeted with her neckline and fought off a wave of self-consciousness. “Forgive me, Miss Jennean, but I’m not used to wearing anything this revealing.”

“I can see that,” she said. “I dare say you’ve never showed that much skin to another person, let alone a man.”

Maggie managed a weak nod and knew her cheeks had turned an unbecoming pink. Could this conversation get more uncomfortable for her?

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dade shift in his chair. Instead of looking at him, she reached for her wine and hoped the spirits would dull her embarrassment.

Miss Jennean rubbed her thumb over her wineglass and looked from Maggie to Dade. “I thought you two were old family friends, but I can see that I was mistaken.”

Maggie nearly choked on her wine. “We’ve only known each other a few weeks.”

That earned her a scowl from Dade, but really, what was the point in lying to Miss Jennean? If they weren’t posing as a married couple, and if they weren’t lovers, then what did that leave but traveling companions?

“Like Maggie told you,” he said, “Maggie was my sister’s friend on the orphan train.”

Miss Jennean leaned back in her chair as if considering that. “A very devoted one, I’d say. But I sense there’s another reason why Maggie has tossed convention and mores aside and set off on a journey with a man.”

“Suffice it to say I am fleeing from a situation that was being forced on me,” Maggie said.

“By your parents?” she asked.

Maggie stared into her knowing blue eyes and recognized a kindred spirit there. “By the couple who took me in.”

She hoped the woman wouldn’t ask about her parents. She had no idea who her father was. As for the Suttens, she barely remembered the tense woman–her aunt, she believed–who’d placed her in the orphanage because she couldn’t be bothered with another mouth to feed.

“It’s best if nobody recalls us being here,” Dade said.

“My staff have very poor memories.” Miss Jennean smiled as a young woman brought platters of steaming food to the table then left. “Help yourself.”

“Believe I will,” Dade said and went straight for the platter heaped with roast beef.

Miss Jennean took a portion of potatoes and onions before passing them on. “I hope you don’t mind eating family style. It’s one thing I enjoy doing when I have company.”

“Not at all. It looks scrumptious,” Maggie said, and realized she was starving.

“Isabella maintains that dining informally makes everyone feel like family.” Miss Jennean’s smile was a touch sad, and Maggie guessed the woman missed her daughter.

“How often is your daughter able to visit?” Maggie asked as she took a small portion of roast that smelled divine.

“She comes home a couple of times during her school year,” Miss Jennean said, taking the platter from her.

Maggie couldn’t imagine having a home to return to, even one that still operated quietly as a brothel. Shecouldn’t imagine having the love of a parent. Her gaze flicked to Dade. Or anyone’s love for that matter.

“Isabella will spend the summer here, then return for her last year at the university,” Miss Jennean said, pride ringing in her voice.

“What is she studying?” Maggie asked.

Miss Jennean smiled. “Law. Isabella feels that the best way to support the suffrage movement is by becoming a lawyer, which will enable her to see women are justly served.”

“She’s got her work cut out for her,” Dade said. “But she’s right. It’s past time that women and children had a voice.”

His remark brought a smile to Maggie’s face. “Well said.”

The rest of the meal passed with little said. But Maggie caught Dade’s gaze on her more times than not. She’d at least snared his attention. Now if she could just fully capture his desire tonight.

“This is fine eating,” Dade said and shoveled in another forkful of meat and roasted potatoes.

Miss Jennean swallowed her food and nodded. “I am fortunate to employ such a talented chef.”

“Only meals I ever ate that a man fixed was on the ranch I grew up on,” Dade said. “What our cook threw together in that cook shack couldn’t compare to this.”

The two laughed, and Maggie joined in, though a bit late.

Maggie had suffered years of rigid meals with the Nowells. Conversation was always minimal, with them holding to the belief that children were rarely to be seen and never heard.

Since she was nothing more than Caroline’s companion, she learned at a young age that she wasn’t to say a word unless spoken to. That rarely happened.

“Is the food to your liking?” Miss Jennean asked.

“Oh, yes,” Maggie said, and in an effort to be part of the conversation, she asked Dade, “Tell us about the ranch where you grew up.”

“Yes, please do,” Miss Jennean said.

A smile teased Dade’s mouth, and she knew right then that he held a special place in his heart for the ranch he’d grown up on. But she also sensed a melancholy in him about the place and those he’d known there.

Good and bad memories. She’d had few of the first and far too many of the latter.

“The Crown Seven was a fine spread up north of Maverick, Wyoming,” he said at last, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “The man who owned it–Kirby Morris–was from England. He came here with a dream to run a cattle ranch, and he nearly didn’t make it past the Mississippi.”

“What happened?” Miss Jennean asked.

“He was set upon by thugs one night and nearly beat to death.” A troubled look came over Dade, and she knew that event must have been far worse than he let on. “Reid and Trey, the two orphans I’d run away with, and myself happened on them. We ran them off. Kirby was so grateful he asked us to go west with him.”

“Was he looking for stout workers for his ranch?” Maggie asked.

“No, but that’s what we thought at first. He took us into his house and treated us no differently than he would have if we were his own,” he said. “Hell, he treated us a damn sight better than our kin had.”

Miss Jennean toyed with her wineglass. “I heard something about that ranch and Mr. Morris a few months ago.”

“I’d be mighty interested to hear about it,” Dade said.

At first, she didn’t think Miss Jennean would divulge a thing. She poured more wine in her glass and leaned back in her chair as if mimicking Dade’s relaxed demeanor.

To Maggie’s way of thinking, both of them seemed tied tight with anxiety.

“The information I received was from a gentleman visitor,” she said. “I can’t divulge his name, but suffice it to say he’s a reputable lawyer from Cheyenne. The owner of the ranch hired him to dispose of it and the stock.”

Dade snorted. “That’d be Reid Barclay.”

Miss Jennean shook her head, frowning. “No, that wasn’t the name, but I can’t recall it now. Anyway, there was some discrepancy about the way the other shareholders–the original owner’s foster sons–were dispersed. I assume you are one of the shareholders?”

“Yes, ma’am, I was,” he said, his jaw set so hard and tight Maggie wondered how he could talk at all. “The way it was explained to me, my brothers and I had to come to Maverick and claim our shares by the end of December or default on them.”

“You didn’t meet the deadline,” Maggie guessed.

He snorted and gave a jerky shake of his head. “I was in Placid when I heard about this deadline. But I stayed there too late in the season and got snowed in.”

A deafening silence pulsed in the room and set Maggie’s teeth on edge. The image she had of Dade as a drifter had just popped like a carnival balloon.

She was sure he’d been swindled out of his shares. “That was cruel of your foster father to set such strict limits.”

“Wasn’t Kirby’s doing,” he said, clearly defensive of the man. “He trusted Reid, the eldest of us boys. Hell, we all trusted him to manage the ranch. Instead he got himself in a fix and had to put up our shares to get out of it. Last I heard he ended up selling the Crown Seven.”

“Yes, that’s what I heard,” Miss Jennean said. “But there was some oddity about the sale. Something that pertained to the original stockholders being granted an extension.”

“Then Dade might still own part of the ranch,” Maggie said.

Miss Jennean took a sip of her wine, then smiled. “It’s certainly worth looking into if you’re interested.”

Maggie knew he definitely was interested, but she also knew he wouldn’t stop his search for Daisy right now. Not when he was finally close to finding out what became of her.

“I’ve been through Maverick before, long ago when the Union Pacific was being laid,” Miss Jennean said.

Maggie wondered if the madam had been a track follower going from one hell on wheels town to the next, or if she’d had a different life back then. It certainly wasn’t a question she felt she could ask.

“It’s prime cattle country,” Dade said. “Kirby imported Durham cattle. Had quite a big spread for many a year.”

Maggie couldn’t imagine living on a ranch surrounded by livestock and cowboys. The isolation had to be horrendous in the winter when they had nobody but themselves to generate entertainment.

Then again the idea of being alone with Dade for that long had her squirming. Would they tire of each other? Would they wish the winter would never end?

“How many head of cattle survived after the blizzard of ‘86?” Miss Jennean asked.

Dade’s expression turned troubled again. “Damn few. Like most ranchers in the west, that winter wiped us out.”

Miss Jennean studied him. “But you didn’t lose the ranch.”

“Not then. We were able to barely hang on until after Kirby passed on,” Dade said. “After that it was Reid’s dealing that we could not weather.”

The way he turned to finishing his meal told her the subject was closed. Except it wasn’t closed. What had happened between him and his foster brothers still troubled him. He hadn’t spoken of them except in chance remarks,but the anger she sensed in him told her the parting hadn’t been pleasant.

Now she guessed why. Dade Logan wasn’t a drifter at all. He was a cowboy at heart without a place to hang his hat, thanks to a foster brother who robbed him of his shares of the ranch he’d spoken of with affection.

He was a man without a family who gave a damn.

Her heart went out to him then and there. Yes, they had more in common than she’d imagined.

They’d both had family who’d turned them out, both blood kin and those they’d trusted. The hurt and anger and hesitancy to trust that she sensed in him was as strong as her own.

Only he might still have a stake in his home. But she wondered if he’d ever go there and make peace.

“You’ve lost touch with your foster brothers then?” Miss Jennean asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve no idea where Trey got off to, and I’m not inclined to visit Reid anytime soon.” Dade pushed his plate aside, his expression remote. “That’s all in my past now. Time to move on.”

Miss Jennean bowed her head in agreement. “You won’t rest until you are reunited with your sister. I applaud that decision, but know that she might not have met with a kind fate.”

“That’s more reason why I need to find her,” Dade said.

“I wish you luck,” Miss Jennean said.

The maid cleared the empty plates and served custard topped with fresh wild blackberries. Maggie restrained herself from digging in until Miss Jennean took the first bite. Some habits were just too engrained to ignore, even when a sweet tooth begged to be satisfied.

“Now then, Miss Sutten. I need to know who you are running from if I’m to keep your stay here secret,” Miss Jennean said to her as she spooned up a dainty portion of the dessert.

Maggie hesitated for a moment, torn between distrusting this woman and divulging the whole truth right now. Dade’s nod encouraged her to be honest. Dare she?