A Man to Call My Own

Chapter 18

THERE WAS A LOT of screeching. Chad was too well-bred not to help Amanda to her feet. She didn't thank him. He was getting used to that. She did continue to hurl invectives at her sister while she whacked dust and dirt off her skirt.

Marian wasn't paying the least bit of attention to the diatribe. Red stared at Amanda, looking all worried, but the spinster put an arm through hers and gently urged her inside. Chad decided that's where he'd rather be as well, and joined them.

Stepping through the door, though, he barely recognized the place. Red had broken out of storage, or managed to find, all kinds of delicate knickknacks and figurines, had changed the serviceable curtains to fancy drapes, put new rugs on the floor. The antlers above the mantel in the main gathering room were gone, replaced by a framed mirror. New paintings were on the walls. One he recognized from Doc Wilton's office. He wondered how much she'd had to pay him for it.

Red had tried to give her home a more Eastern flavor, something the girls were more used to. He liked it tetter the way it had been, where a man didn't have to worry about knocking over the clutter. Just showed how nervous she really was about meeting these nieces of hers.

While he was examining all the new finery, he didn't miss the man sitting on one of the sofas, his arms spread out on the back of it like he owned the place. No, it was impossible to miss that big black-haired, blue-eyed Texan. Chad just chose to do so.

Red had good manners though, and led Marian over for a formal introduction. "This is a neighbor of mine, Stuart Kinkaid. He owns the biggest ranch in the county, possibly the whole state."

"I'm working on it," Stuart chuckled as he stood up and grasped Marian's hand for a good shake.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Laton."

"You as well, Mr. Kinkaid."

"Your aunt's told me all about you, as well as some of the difficulties you've had getting here."

"Oh?"

"Chad sent a few telegrams," Red explained.

"I'll have to throw a barbecue sometime next week," Stuart continued. "To give you gals a proper welcome."

"How—country," Amanda said dryly, coming in the door with a hard shove, to make sure it slammed back against the wall. "I'd like a bath, Aunt Kathleen. A hot one. You do have plumbing here? And hot water?"

Red was blushing again. "If you'll excuse us, Stuart, I'll show the girls to their rooms and get them settled in. You're welcome to stay for dinner again."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Red directed the women toward the stairs. Father and son eyed each other, but said not a word yet.

Chad had missed the old man, though he wouldn't say so. But damn, it was good to see him again. Chad was tall, but his father had a few inches on him. Fifty-two, and his hair just as coal black as if he were Chads age, Stuart sported a mustache as well, but that's where the similarities ended. He had wider shoulders, longer legs, was gruff in his manner, opinionated ... well, hell, they were probably more alike than Chad would like to admit.

Enough time had passed that he was hopeful they could reconcile. Hopeful—but not sure. Both of them were stubborn, and their tempers could easily flare up again.

Kinkaids didn't squabble in public—if they could help it, though the public sure heard about their squabbles soon enough. Usually because they got loud. But with the women vacating the room quick enough, both men remained patient. The very second they were alone, Stuart started out with an accusatory tone.

"So this is where you've been hiding out?"

Chad raised a brow. "Hiding? Red needed some help, or I'd have moved on. I hope you didn't grumble at her for letting me stay here without telling you."

"Course not," Stuart said defensively. "I like Red. That gal's got gumption, trying to hold on to this place after Frank up and died on her."

Stuart cleared his throat before saying any more, realizing he'd started off on the wrong foot. In a much milder, if gruff tone, he said, "From what I heard last night, she still needs help. I can send over one of my foremen."

"You implying I can't handle it?"

"Don't look for something to bite into. We both know there's nothing you can't handle."

Chad nodded curtly, moved over to the cold fireplace, stared into the new mirror there, not at himself but at his father. This reunion was going better than he'd expected. 'Course, they hadn't touched on the meat of their differences yet.

"You misplaced one of your men," Chad remarked.

"I did?"

"He'll be along shortly with the baggage. He'll need to be untied."

Stuart laughed. "Sorry. I got a little impatient last night."

"So I gathered. What the hell you doing riding with Leroy in tow? That ain't your style."

Stuart shrugged. "He's been hanging around all week looking for work—and making some of the men nervous. I figured I was sending him on a wild-goose chase, that you'd show up here before he'd find you, then he'd move on. Didn't figure you'd weigh yourself down with vehicles and take another day to get here."

"I didn't figure on that either, but then one of the ladies refused to travel by normal means."

"The noisy one?"

Chad made a face. Of course Stuart would have heard all the screeching that had gone on outside.

They could have heard it out back in the bunkhouse, Amanda was so loud.

Chad found himself explaining, though he wasn't sure why, "She's had a bee in her bonnet from day one. She didn't want to come here, hates traveling. But her attitude should improve now that the traveling part is over."

"Don't kid yourself, boy. That's a born and bred nag if I've ever seen one. Probably spoiled rotten, too. Pretty little thing, though. I suppose she caught your interest?"

"Some," Chad admitted.

"Seriously?"

"Not yet."

"Good." Stuart grunted. "Nags don't usually grow out of being nags."

Chad rolled his eyes. "I told you why she was being difficult. Not that it's any of your concern—and when did you get to be such an expert on nags?"

"Since I spent two months with Luella's mother," Stuart mumbled.

Chad burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Luella's vacant looks had been indicative of her mind, but her mother had been a nonstop chatterer the few times he'd been in her presence. That chattering must have got a lot worse after he left.

Stuart even grinned after a moment, but only for a moment. With nothing settled yet between them, he wouldn't unbend enough to relax. In fact, he finally broached the subject they were both waiting for.

"You ready to come home, boy?"

"You ready to admit who I marry is none of your damn business?"

"Can we at least talk about it?"

"We did that. I talked. You didn't listen," Chad reminded him.

"You didn't give Luella a chance, either," Stuart was quick to point out.

"It didn't take but five minutes to know I wanted nothing to do with her."

"But she's beautiful!" Stuart complained.

"Then you marry her."

"Hell, no."

"Why not? She's beautiful," Chad said, throwing that reasoning back at him.

"She's too young for me," Stuart grumbled.

"And she's too dumb for me. So can we agree that neither of us wants her in the family and drop the subject already? Or is she still at the ranch?" Chad asked with a frown. "If you tell me she's still at the ranch—"

"She ain't," Stuart cut in to assure him. "Went home last month. She would've waited around indefinitely for you, really liked the idea of marrying you, but her pa got insulted by your absence and came to fetch his womenfolk home. And not a minute too soon. Her mother was driving me nuts."

Chad grinned. "Then I guess it's safe for me to come home soon as I wrap things up here."

"Told you, I'll send over—"

"I'll finish what I started," Chad interrupted.

Stuart frowned now. "I hope you don't want to stay here longer to court the nag."

Chad resented his father's description of Amanda, when he'd barely met her. "Let's get at least one thing clear. Your approval of who I marry would be nice, but it's not the least bit necessary."

"You want to bring a bride home to live under my roof," Stuart growled belligerently, "then I reckon I should have a little say in it."

"Who says we'd live under your roof?" Chad shot back. "We could, but I could just as easily build my bride her own house so you don't have to deal with her."

Stuart mulled that over for a second, then chuckled. "That would work. That would work just fine. All right, boy, if you're not going to double my empire, at least give me a lot of grandkids who might."

"When I get around to it. But no more pushing, and no more rounding up fiancees for me. We got us a deal?"

Stuart slapped him on the back with a big smile. "Damn, it's good to have you home."

Chad was aware he hadn't got an answer. His father liked to leave himself escape routes. But that was all right. It was good to be home—and on good terms with his father again.