Part 3 (1/2)
Madison's entire demeanor changed. He came vibrantly alive, aggressive and combative. He practically charged her, stopping only to avoid knocking her down. Fern jumped back in surprise. ”Mr. Bunch is reputed to have said he recognized my brother's horse,” Madison said, a.s.suming his most intimidating manner. ”Now, unless you believe horses can pull triggers, and that my brother is responsible for the actions of his horse, you don't have much of a case.”
She glared at him. She had very fine eyes. Hazel with a bluish-gray tint. He wished it were still daylight. He wanted to be more sure of the shade.
”You must think everybody in Kansas is an idiot,” she shot back, ”just waiting for some self-important know-it-all to come tell us what to do.”
She was spilling over with things to get off her chest. Not a bad chest at that. But he had to keep his mind off her body. He was here to help Hen. It was okay if he whiled away a few hours satisfying his curiosity about this quixotic creature, but the shape of her legs, the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and the color of her eyes had nothing to do with that.
Fern refused to let this Randolph intimidate her. She also refused to admit he was so handsome that she had trouble remembering why he had come to Abilene. She kept telling herself she hated him, that she wanted to see him run out of town. But it would have been a lot easier if she could have closed her eyes.
”We know what to do with killers,” she said. ”We also know what to do with a stuffed gunny sack made up to look like a man.”
”Are you going to trample me under your pretty little feet?” Madison asked. He moved closer and flashed an ingratiating smile.
”We're going to ride you out of town with a fire under your tail.” She hoped she sounded fierce and confident. She felt completely unnerved.
Smiling even more broadly, Madison brought his face down until their noses practically touched. ”You know, if my sister had talked like thatif I'd had a sister, that is, my family being only boys, which I a.s.sure you was a great hards.h.i.+p to my mother, the poor woman not really being up to handling a household of eight men, not that any female is up to handling that many men, or one man for that matter, females being delicate by nature and not given to being able to put up with the riot and rumpus of seven boys”
”p.i.s.s and vinegar!” Fern hissed. ”Would you get to the point? I wouldn't be surprised to learn you win your cases by driving your opponents insane.” By smiling at them, causing them to lose every thought in their heads.
But no man had ever done that to her, and she didn't mean for Madison Randolph to be the first.
”As I was about to say,” Madison said, sounding injured in spite of his smiling eyes, ”if you'd talked that way in Virginia, you'd have had ladies fainting away by the parlorful. And that would have made you very unpopular. It's very difficult for a woman to get in and out of her stays. And of course the first thing you do for a fainting female is to loosen her stays. But then you wouldn't know that, would you?”
”I imagine you know far more about feminine apparel than I do,” Fern said, giving ground.
”From the looks of it, a sheepherder knows more than you.”
Madison could tell she hadn't expected that one. He could see the anger flame in her eyes. It made the blue disappear leaving nothing but gray, like ashed coal, a cool, dull surface but burning hot underneath.
”Is there some reason why you're blocking my path?” she asked. ”I'm sure your forked tongue gets plenty of exercise in Boston. It's sure sharp enough.” Not bad. This woman would bear further study. Clearly there was more to her than a pair of dusty pants and a sheepskin vest. Besides, despite her clothes, she was more fun to look at than horses and cows. Maybe he'd tell her so, but only if he found just the right moment.
He smiled, genuinely this time, hoping to reduce the tension between them.
”Well, actually I was wondering if you could tell me how to find the scene of the crime.”
”Why don't you ask your brother?”
”George is rather preoccupied at the moment.” He knew she meant Hen. ”His wife could present him with a baby any minute, and he is understandably loath to leave her side.”
She looked at him as if to say I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't trust you. Aloud she said, ”The Connor place is a long way from here. The only way to get there is by horseback.”
”So?”
”You'll have to ride.”
”I didn't expect you would offer to carry me.”
”On a horse.”
”You mean I could ride a buffalo if I want? What fun you get up to in Kansas.”
Fern couldn't decide whether he was being sarcastic or if this was his idea of humor. ”Anybody in town can give you directions. Or take you out there if you like.”
”I'd rather you take me.”
”No.”
”Why not?”
”I don't want to. Besides, why should I help you get your brother off.?”
”You wouldn't, but it's been my experience that at least one significant detail always gets overlooked. I a.s.sumed you'd want to be around in case I found anything.”
Fern told herself she should have nothing to do with Madison Randolph, but she couldn't let him go to the Connor place alone. She didn't trust him. She respected the native shrewdness of Kansans, but she wasn't naive enough to think a big city lawyer didn't know a few more tricks than Marshal Hickok. Whether she liked it or not, she had to keep an eye on him until after the trial.
”When do you want to go?”
”How about tomorrow morning?”
”You'll have to meet me at my father's farm.”
”I'll be there at nine o'clock. I know a road is too much to hope for, but you do have a path leading there, don't you?”
”Follow the south road,” she said, glaring at him. ”Take the left fork about a mile out of town. We're another two miles farther on.”
”I suppose it's too much to hope for a mailbox.”
”Why should we have mailboxes?” She knew he was having fun with her now. ”Surely you don't think we can read.”
Fern started walking away from him, a decided swagger to her stride. ”If you're not at the house by nine o'clock, I won't wait,” she called back over her shoulder. ”I can't spend all day playing nursemaid to a tenderfoot. I've got some bulls that need castrating.” She stopped and turned back to face him, one hand on her hip, an unmistakable challenge in her eye. ”That's one job I'm real good at.''
”I guess I'd better wear a thick pair of chaps.”
She wondered if he really knew what chaps were or if he'd read about them in some book.
”Until tomorrow.” He waved. She turned on her heel and walked off.
Madison stood watching her for a moment, then burst out laughing. He rather thought she'd got the best of the exchange with her remark about the bulls. He'd better stay on his toes. He couldn't let it be said he'd been bested by a woman from Kansas who didn't know enough to be sure of her own s.e.x, even if he was quite positive about it. Wouldn't Freddy love that.
But Freddy and Boston seemed so far away now, almost as though the last eight years had been a dream and Texas was the only reality.
Madison shook his head to dislodge that fearful thought. He didn't know whether it was Kansas, his brothers' cold reception, or this most unusual female, but nothing had gone as he had expected.
Fern paused, the coffeepot in one hand, her cup in the other. The sound of Madison's laughter still rang in her ears. It had rung there all night, keeping her awake, aggravating her, making her wonder why he had laughed at her, making her angry that he had, making her furious that she cared.
She poured her coffee and carried it over to a heavy earthenware jar. As she stirred thick cream into the steaming black liquid, she berated herself for talking to him. She shouldn't even see him again.
But she was going to take him to the Connor place this morning.
She would have been lying to herself if she didn't admit she felt a kind of simmering excitement. She might hate the reasons that brought Mr. Randolph to Abilene, but it was impossible to hate Mr. Randolph.