Keegan's Lady (7 page)

He had no idea how much time passed, only that it did, and that with the passing of each second, he felt better. The crushing pain inside his chest ebbed and his thoughts started to feel a little less tangled. Lifting his lashes, he narrowed an eye at his brother, the fact not lost on him that he could have indulged in such introspection with no one else but Joseph. Sometimes his brother seemed to understand him better than he understood himself.

Ace nudged the brim of his hat back and patted his shirt pocket. "I need a smoke."

The corners of Joseph's mouth tightened. Whipcord lean and compact like his father, he wasn't a very large man, but what he lacked in size, he compensated for with sheer grit and orneriness. Ace trusted no other man as much when it came to guarding his back. Joseph would take on a half dozen opponents without thinking twice, and the marvel was, he usually won.

"Smoke, hell," he said. "Like I said, what you really need is a good ass kickin'."

Ace shifted in the saddle. "Yeah? Well, if you plan to do the honors, you'd best pack a lunch."

"Shit." Joseph said the word as though it had two distinct syllables. He drew his Bull Durham pouch and La Croix papers from his shirt pocket and tossed them carelessly to Ace. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall, big brother. If I hit a man and he don't go down, I'll walk around behind him to see what the hell's proppin' him up."

It was a saying Ace had taught Joseph years before to bolster his confidence, and after Joseph's first fistfight, during which he'd sustained two black eyes, a chipped tooth, a cracked rib, and three broken knuckles, the saying had become a joke. The familiarity of it now put them back on safe ground.

After withdrawing a cigarette paper from the packet, Ace creased it and tapped out some tobacco. He retightened the drawstring, then tossed both the pouch and papers back to Joseph. A quick lick and a twist of his fingers later, he had a cigarette. Not as fancy as one of the Cross Cuts he had occasionally enjoyed back home in
San Francisco
, but it would do.

"Thank you, little brother."

Joseph returned the pouch to his pocket. "Need a match?"

"Your face and the south end of a northbound jack ass?" Ace chuckled at the narroweyed glare his brother gave him. "Some people never learn." Shaking his head, he drew a Lucifer from his pocket. "I usually carry a few matches with me. Beats the hell out of rubbing sticks together if I want to build a fire." He struck the match on the seam of his
Levis
and bent his head to the flame, which he protected from the wind with cupped hands. A second later, he straightened, taking a long, satisfying drag as he waved out the match. After taking two more pulls, he offered the smoke to Joseph.

"Peace?"

Even as he accepted the cigarette, Joseph swept his tawny eyelashes low over his eyes, and a muscle along his jaw began to tick. "You know, Ace, there isn't anything I hold sacred that you didn't teach me to hold sacred, nothing I believe that you didn't teach me to believe, my attitude toward the ladies notwithstandin’. Back there in that barn, it wasn't my rules you were breakin' but your own."

That stung. And yet Ace couldn't blame his brother for saying it. He had broken his own rules, and in doing so, he had betrayed not only his brothers but himself. "Let's just thank God no real harm was done. Nothing happened. I swear it. When I realized she wasn't going to run, I walked out."

"Maybe so, but it still looked bad. You'd better hope nobody in town gets wind of it, or that girl's reputation will be shot, and you won't have anybody to blame but yourself,"

Ace bit down hard on his back teeth. It would be a hell of a note if he ended up honor bound to marry Caitlin O'Shannessy to save her reputation. Just the thought was enough to turn his stomach. "Nobody’ll get wind of anything, I guarant-ass-tee you that. None of us will say anything, and if any of them do, they're damned fools."

Another brief silence fell between them. Ace finally broke it by saying, "You know what breaks my heart the most? That Ma has lived with the truth all these years, never once asking any of us to share the burden with her. Thinking back on it, I can't recall a single time she even so much as hinted that Eden was in any way less a Paxton than the rest of you."

A blank expression came over Joseph's face. "Less a Paxton?" He left the words hanging, his face slowly registering his incredulity as the truth started to sink home. "What the hell do you mean, less a Paxton?"

Too late, Ace realized that his brother had not seen Caitlin O'Shannessy's face as clearly as he had. When she had moved into the light, her back had been to Joseph, and the rest of the time, it had probably been too shadowy for his brother to tell much,

"Oh, hey, Joseph, I'm sorry. I thought—"

"Son of a bitch!" Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes closed. "Goddamn son of a bitch! You can't be serious. Conor O'Shannessy? That's what you're saying, isn't it?" He dragged in a deep breath. "No, goddammit, not our little sister. I don't believe it. Not
Eden
. You're wrong."

Ace shifted slightly in the saddle. "Hey, Joseph. I really am sorry. I honestly thought—" He broke off. There was little point in continuing. What he had thought was obvious. Ace knew that Joseph was feeling just as he had half an hour ago outraged, stunned, furious. He wished he could diminish those feelings, but knew he couldn't. Joseph would have to work his own way through them.

Ace curled a hand over his brother's shoulder. "Hey, little brother, I know it's tough. But remember this. As hard as it is to accept, nothing's really changed."

Joseph knocked Ace's hand away and, in the process, dealt Ace a stinging blow along the jaw. "Let go of me, goddammit. I don't need or want your mollycoddling."

"Joseph, I know how upset you're feeling. But after you've had a few minutes to think about it, you'll realize it really doesn't matter.
Eden
's the same little sister we've always loved. Who cares who her father was?"

"I do, damn you! You're saying our sister was spawned by the son of a bitch who hung our pa? Jesus Christ. If it's true, how can you say it doesn't matter?" Joseph pinned Ace with a defiant glare. "As far as that goes, how do you know you're even right? The O'Shannessys aren't the only people in the world who have red hair, you know. Ma's a blonde. So am I. There could be red hair in Ma's family, just like she said. Just because Eden and the O'Shannessy girl have similar coloring, it doesn't mean—"

"It's not just the hair," Ace cut in. "A mirror image, Joseph. Those two girls look enough alike to be twins. Just wait until you get a close look at her.
Eden
's sturdier of build and taller. But, otherwise, you have to search to find the differences between them."

Joseph closed his eyes again. After a long moment, he heaved an exhausted sigh. "Our poor mother. All these years, keeping it a secret. I'd like to take that bastard apart with my bare hands."

Ace knew the feeling, but before he could say as much, he heard horses approaching. The riders would be his other two half-brothers and the hired hands who had been with him and Joseph over at the O'Shannessy place. Joseph glanced back over his shoulder, his blue eyes narrowed to see. "Are you gonna tell them?"

Ace turned his horse to face the oncoming men. "Let's wait until we get back to the house. I think this should be a family secret, at least until we bring
Eden
here. Then ..." He shrugged. "Well, God only knows. I haven't had time to think that far ahead yet. Ma may not even let
Eden
come now. After all these years, she may not want her to know, and there won't be any way to keep it a secret once she sees Caitlin O'Shannessy."

Turning his attention from Joseph, Ace steeled himself to face his other two brothers. Given that he couldn't provide an explanation in front of the other men for his outrageous behavior, the next few minutes were going to be difficult.

Esa, the youngest of the Paxtons at twenty-three, drew up first. The brim of his hat shadowed his eyes, but Ace could tell by the grim set of the younger man's lips that he heartily disapproved of what had happened back at the barn. The same sentiment was reflected in David's expression when he rode up. The three hired hands weren't quite so easy to read, but even so, Ace could see they were none too pleased.

When all the horses had quieted, Ace nudged his hat back so everyone could see his face clearly. As he spoke, he moved his gaze from man to man, looking each directly in the eye. "I only want to have to say this once, so everybody listen up. I owe you all an apology for what happened back there. I won't go into my reasons, I believe it's enough to say that I went a little crazy there for a minute. I regret that it happened, and I'll be forever ashamed that it did, but unfortunately, some things can't be undone, and this is one of them."

Kurt Bishop, a tall, raw-boned blond, averted his face to spit. When he turned back, he said, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, boss."

"Given the circumstances, I'm afraid I do. There's the matter of the girl and her reputation. I give you my word that when I took her to the back of the barn, absolutely nothing happened between us."

"Hell, we know that." Rob Martin flashed a ruddy-faced grin. He glanced around the circle of riders. "Don't we, boys?" He returned his gaze to Ace. "There's not a man jack among us who'd work for a fellow we thought would shame a woman that way."

"Damn straight," Jim Stevens agreed.

Ace forced a smile. "I appreciate your trust in me. And I'm glad to hear that none of you would want to see a woman shamed, because that's my main concern, the girl's welfare. What I did to Caitlin O'Shannessy tonight was inexcusable. All the poor girl did was try to save her brother's worthless hide, and any consequences she suffers will be entirely my fault."

"We understand," Jim said softly. "No one will hear anything about it from me, boss. You have my word on that."

"Not from me, neither," Rob agreed.

Kurt spat again. "I got no reason to do any talkin', and nobody to tell it to if I did."

Ace hauled in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. As a general rule, he didn't cotton to making threats, but this was one time when circumstances seemed to justify his doing so. "I want it understood, here and now, that if word of what happened, at the O'Shannessy place gets out, the man responsible will answer directly to me. Is that clear? I don't want that girl to be caused so much as one minute of grief as a result of my actions tonight."

"Yessir, boss."

"It's clear as rain to me, boss."

"I got no problem with that."

Satisfied with the responses of his hired hands, Ace forced himself to meet the gaze of each of his brothers. For the first time in his memory, he saw recrimination in their expressions. What hurt most was that he knew he had it coming.

CHAPTER THREE