here in the lodge.”
Cletus Brun wasn’t happy. “The hell you say! I never go anywhere unarmed. Only a fool does.”
Fargo didn’t like it, either. He would feel naked without his Colt or the Henry or the Arkansas toothpick. They were as much a part of him as his clothes, hat, and boots.
“The third condition is one I argued against,” the attorney was saying. “I told your father that it is immoral and unethical. Inhuman might be a better word. He refused to rescind it.”
“What is it?” Tom demanded.
Pickleman coughed. “Should any of you come to harm, no charges are to be lodged against whoever is responsible.”
“What?” Samantha said.
The siblings sat there in silence as the full import slowly sank in. Finally Charles placed his hands on the table and cocked his head at the attorney. “Did we hear you correctly? Our father is encouraging us to attack one another?”
“That would be illegal,” Pickleman said.
Tom was livid. “Don’t try to hoodwink me. I’m no simpleton. What Father has done is set up a hunting contest where
“He wouldn’t,” Samantha declared in horror. “Not even he would go that far.”
“But he has,” Charlotte said.
Cousin Amanda broke her long silence to say, “You’re going to try and
“Only if we want to,” Tom said, and laughed.
“There was no mention of anything like this,” Amanda said. “I don’t want any part of it.”
“Nor do I,” said Charles’s friend, Bruce Harmon.
“That is entirely up to you,” the lawyer told them. “In fact, the same applies to the principals.” He looked at each of the siblings in turn. “Any of you can bow out if you so desire. Keep in mind that those who do are eliminated from the hunt and won’t receive a cent of the inheritance.”
“Our father,” Roland said. “The devil in disguise.”
Tom turned to Cletus Brun. “What about you? Are you as cowardly as our cousin and Bruce? Or will you see it through?”
“You’re payin’ me,” Cletus replied.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Samantha focused on Fargo. “And you, Skye? Please think carefully before you answer. I don’t want you to come to harm on my account.”
Fargo fully realized the danger he was placing himself in as he said, “I gave my word I would take part.” He turned. “But there’s something all of you are overlooking.”
“What would that be?” Pickleman said.
“Emmett. Whoever hired the man who shot him isn’t done. Any one of you could be next.”
“Which would please our deceased father no end,” Tom said. “Or haven’t you gotten it yet? He
“Someone should report this to the sheriff,” Amanda said.
Charlotte spun on her. “Don’t you dare. This is a family matter and will be settled by us, not the law.”
“You can settle it without bloodshed,” Amanda persisted. “Each of you can give his or her word that you won’t try to harm anyone else during the hunt.”
“We could,” Tom said, nodding, “but I won’t.”
“Why in God’s name not?” Charles asked.
“Because I agree with Father. This is the best way. We’ve been at one another’s throats for years. Fear of being thrown behind bars has always held us back but now we can give free rein to all the hate bubbling inside of us.”
“You have a warped mind,” Samantha said.
“As did Father.” Tom chortled. “Ironic, is it not, that I’m more like him than any of you, yet I’m the one he thought was the fruit of someone else’s loins?”
“So Charles and Charlotte will hunt by themselves?” Pickleman asked to have it clarified. “Amanda and Bruce have dropped out?”
Both their cousin and Harmon nodded.
“Just so you know,” the lawyer told them, “you have until the actual start of the hunt to change your minds.”
“I certainly won’t,” Bruce Harmon said.
Pickleman gazed along the table. “At six o’clock tomorrow morning I expect everyone to be out front. I am to fire a pistol to start the hunt. Remember, no mounts, no weapons, and no food or water.”
Samantha straightened. “Father made that a condition, too? Twenty-four hours without anything to eat or drink smacks of cruelty.”
“Our father’s middle name,” Tom said sarcastically.
Pickleman walked to the doorway. “I bid you good night. Since I am to oversee the hunt, I must remain awake the entire twenty-four hours. In order to do that I need all the sleep I can get tonight.” He smiled and left.
“How can any of us sleep knowing what’s in store?” Charlotte played her part as the innocent.
Fargo could use some rest himself. The lovemaking and the huge meal had left him sluggish and tired. He pushed back his chair and was about to excuse himself when Samantha placed her warm hand on his.
“Does all of this trouble you as much as it does me?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “We need to talk over our strategy for tomorrow.”
“I’m listening.”
“Not at the table. The others will overhear us. We need somewhere private.” Samantha’s cherry lips curled and her fingernail traced a delicate line across this hand. “Why don’t you come up to my room with me?”
11
Samantha Clyborn was as attractive a female as Skye Fargo ever met. Her gorgeous hair, her piercing eyes, her hourglass figure were enough to make any male drool. But Fargo was tired and feeling sluggish from the big meal. He’d also bedded her sister not more than two hours ago. As he followed Sam’s sashaying form down the hall to her bedroom, he hoped to God his body could rise to the occasion.
Samantha paused at the door. “Thank you for waiting at the table a couple of minutes before you got up and followed me. I didn’t want my sister and brothers to suspect.”
Fargo looked at her bosom and at the swell of her hips, and nodded.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with me inviting a man up to my room,” Sam quickly added. She opened the door and motioned for him to enter but Fargo shook his head and gestured for her to go first.
Her bedroom smelled of lavender. Thick purple carpet covered the floor. Her bed was bigger than Charlotte’s and covered with a purple quilt. The fringed canopy was purple, too.
“Your favorite color?”
Sam had stepped to a full-length mirror and was fluffing her air. “What? Oh, yes. I’ve liked it ever since I was little and learned it’s the color of royalty. I always thought that fitting.”
Fargo didn’t savvy and said so.
“I should think it obvious.” Sam smoothed her dress, then faced him. “In Britain and Europe the ruling class is royalty. Kings, queens, dukes, princes and the like. Over here the ruling class is the class with money. The class my family belongs to. We hold all the power. We control the conditions under which those who don’t have money live.”
“You think of yourself as royalty?”
