"Relax," he said, amused by her stiffness. "I don't bite. And this won't take long."

He took off at a gallop. It was actually a fluid movement that didn't bounce her much at all. But all she could think about was him. Her heart was racing, and not because of the ride. She knew very well she wouldn't fall again.

His arms had her boxed in on both sides, one supporting her back, the other across her front. He held her tightly, probably to give her a feeling of security. At one point he flicked the reins and his arm brushed across her breasts. She nearly gasped out loud and hoped he didn't realize what he'd done, or what he was doing to her newfound desires.

"How do you like it here, now that you've settled in?" he asked her.

She was grateful for the distraction. "I love it, actually," she admitted. "But then there isn't much about this part of the country that I don't like."

"Really?"

She heard amazement in his tone, which wasn't surprising. He'd overheard a lot of Amanda's complaints and had probably thought she felt the same way, but just wasn't as vocal about it.

"Yes, really," she replied. "The people are so friendly—well, aside from the unlawful element. And the scenery is magnificent. The vast openness is so different from back East, and the sunsets are so pretty they take my breath away."

"Okay, I believe you," he said with a chuckle. "I take it you're getting along with Red?"

"How could I not? She's as wonderful as you said she was. She's made me feel right at home, as if I'd always lived with her."

Chad had managed to distract her enough that they arrived at the ranch before she knew it. Instead of dismounting though, his arm wrapped tightly across her middle so he could just lower her off the horse. Even though he leaned over as he did so, his arm still ended up sliding up her chest and over her breasts before her feet touched solid ground again. She sucked in her breath, and her pulse leapt again, as her thoughts scattered and a swirling sensation started in her belly ...

Suddenly she was on solid ground again, next to the porch, and Chad was saying, "You look silly as all hell in that hat."

That was just what she needed to hear to get her mind, and senses, back on an even footing. "Thank you for pointing that out," she said indignantly. "I would have used a parasol, but Lonny said I'd look silly as hell in that as well. Actually, those weren't his words. He said it more kindly."

"I was teasing," Chad said.

"Sure you were," she replied, yanking the hat down as far as it would go.

She tried to ignore his laughter as she marched stiffly into the house. Worse, she almost ran into Spencer and Amanda, who were just leaving the dining room.

Marian ran up the stairs so she would miss them, but not before she heard Amanda pout, "Must you go so soon?"

"I've already dallied longer than I should have, dar-lin'. But I couldn't leave without seeing you again."

Marian paused at the top of the stairs to watch them walk arm and arm to the front door. Their behavior seemed much too familiar for such a short acquaintance, but then Amanda occasionally dismissed formalities when she favored someone. And Spencer was an ideal candidate for her sisters favors. He was handsome, debonair, and a property owner. The mention that he had relatives back East would also make him suitable in Amanda's mind to marry and take home, if her first plan failed, and she couldn't sufficiendy exasperate their aunt into sending her home to Haverhill with her inheritance in hand.

After watching his behavior last night, Marian had no doubt that Spencer was interested in her sister. And today he'd stuck around just for the chance to see Amanda once more. Now he was going to have to ride hard to get back to town before dark, and he'd have to leave the carriage behind. So much for his excuse for coming out to the ranch. But the main thing was that Amanda obviously liked him. Now if she would just think along the lines of matrimony where he was concerned .. .

Chapter 24

MARIAN WAS SITTING IN one of several rocking chairs on the wide porch, gazing in amazement at one of the most extraordinary sunsets she'd ever seen. She'd witnessed some nice ones on the trip there, but nothing to compare with today's spectacular display. What had started pink and turned to orange had turned nearly blood red, and it completely covered the horizon. Even the size of the sun, before it sank completely, had been bigger than anything she'd ever seen before.

She knew that her aunt was home and she should go in the house to find her, but she was loath to miss even a moment of that sunset. So she was glad when the door opened and she turned to see that her aunt had found her instead.

"There you are," Kathleen said, and sat down in the rocking chair next to her.

"Is it okay if I call you Aunt Kathleen?" Marian asked hesitantly. "I know your friends call you Red, but Aunt Red just seems—odd."

"Sweetie, you can call me anything you like. We aren't formal out here."

"I've noticed that. I rather like it, actually. I'm not late for dinner, am I?"

"No, not at all. If anything, dinner will probably be late tonight," Kathleen said with a sigh.

She had been frowning when she opened the door, and looked very weary. She had shaken that off momentarily when she saw Marian there and had smiled in greeting, but she was back to looking weary again.

Marian was almost afraid to ask, knowing what her sister had been up to that day.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Kathleen started to deny, but then sighed again. "Well, yes. I just got my ear chewed off by Consuela. She's taken a dislike to your sister, I'm afraid. And my maid refuses to clean her room, refuses to go anywhere near her for that matter. It just took me thirty minutes to get her calmed down, and nearly that long to convince Consuela to send a plate up to Amanda as she requested, since she apparently doesn't want to eat with us tonight. That's why dinner will be late."

Marian leaned back in her chair, sighed a little herself. "I don't usually offer explanations, but you're family, as well as our guardian, so you have a right to know certain things about us. First off, Amanda and I don't like each other. We never have, never will. You may have gathered that from overhearing that fight yesterday. She's made my life miserable from as far back as I can remember."

"Because she was Mortimer's favorite."

"Yes, and has rubbed that in my face continuously for most of my life. How did you—?" Marian started to ask, then amended, "Never mind. Of course, you were there when we were young and probably saw it firsthand."

"Sweetie, that's the main reason I got the hell out of there as soon as I could. I didn't want to watch you two grow up with the same bitter feelings my sister and I shared."

"You have a sister?" Marian asked in surprise.

"Had," Kathleen corrected. "She died when we were fourteen. She was my twin—and Mortimer's favorite. He was only two years older than us. All three of us should have been close. But neither of them seemed to be able to share their feelings with more than one person at a time. They bonded early, were inseparable, did everything together, and excluded me from all of it. And like you, my face got rubbed in it. Neither of them was very nice."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, because I was afraid you'd experience the exact same thing with Mortimer, except in a father-daughter relationship, and it looks like you did. It certainly wasn't your fault. I hope you never thought that it was."

"No—well, maybe for a year or two when I was young," Marian admitted. "My mother helped me to get past that. She was always there for me, until she died. I remember she told me once, about big hearts and small hearts, and that not everyone could be blessed with a big one that had room to care for a lot of people. She promised me that mine was big, and that I was the lucky one for it."

Kathleen smiled. "I liked your mother. She was a good woman. I pitied her, too, for marrying a man who didn't love her."

"Why did he marry her then?"

Kathleen shrugged. "I never asked. Probably for the same reason most men of means marry, to have children so they can ensure they have someone to leave their wealth to. She was only a little disappointed that he didn't turn out to be an ideal husband, and she got along well enough with him, from what I could tell. I don't think she was raised to expect a grand love. Many women think a good provider is more important, and he was that at least."

"Were you raised to expect a grand love?"

Kathleen chuckled. "Sweetie, I wasn't raised to expect anything. My father was all business. It was a rare day that he spent any time with his family. He left the raising of his children completely in his wife's hands, and to be frank, those weren't capable hands. If anyone is to blame for the way Mortimer turned out, it was our mother. She taught him that he needed no one but himself to be successful, and maybe one other to share his triumphs with. I think she hoped to be that 'one other.' She really adored him. But he disappointed her in that."

"But isn't that what most boys are taught? That they can be successful at anything if they work at it hard enough?"

"Indeed," Kathleen agreed. "And if that was all she'd stressed, then he might have turned out much differently. But she also coddled him, she babied him, she made him believe that he could do no wrong."

"Like he did with my sister."

"And mine." Kathleen nodded.