One of the mismatched pegs became crystal clear however. He smoothed his mustache, the cold knot in his belly tightening.
“Wyness wasn’t supposed to meet me, was he? You’re up to no good. What have you done now?”
“I swear to my time, Payton, you’re not a Pinkerton man at a train holdup. Relax.” Joe winked at Amanda. “Miss Amanda, I declare you’re prettier than a speckled pup. Always a treat.”
Employees of the ranch-Bert, Amos, and Felipe-watched from the next table, grinning like squirrels eating ripe acorns.
Payton didn’t enjoy the niggling suspicions. He turned his attention to the pretty lady who’d swept into his life. “You know each other? Don’t tell me this is the fellow you came to meet.” If so, he’d gladly whoop the tar out of Joe for free.
“Not hardly.” Amanda frowned. “Joe wouldn’t have any reason to write me letters.”
“Letters?” A sinking feeling made Payton weak.
“Notes someone keeps tacking to my door. The writer signed the last one with the initials P.M. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Payton McCord?”
He did a double take with the sudden switch. Where had the beguiling smile gone, the soft curve of her jaw? He could almost see a layer of frost form on her lashes. And why was she accusing him of things of which he had no knowledge?
“Don’t look at me.” He had a sick feeling.
Joe’s grin became more smug than goofy. “Miss Amanda, maybe you oughta fill Payton in on the nature of your ranch.”
The sooty brown of her gaze became pitch black. “Tell him yourself.” Her sudden shove freed a path from the table. She jumped to her feet. “It’s just as I suspected. You won’t make me the butt of your jokes.”
“Fair enough. But could I trouble you for the love letters Payton wrote? He’s my friend and I gotta protect him.”
“Love letters? I didn’t write any…” Payton’s voice trailed, remembering Joe and his secret doings. He felt the blood drain from his face. Amanda’s wounded gaze hurt worse than a gut full of buckshot.
“Don’t look so innocent, McCord. I can prove it.” She whipped out a crinkled paper from her handbag and pitched it at him. “This was the first. I burned the others.”
He read the script.
What a bunch of hogwash. Then, the magnitude of Joe’s deceit began to sink in.
“This isn’t my handwriting. I promise.” But he could damn sure pitch a silver dollar on the one it belonged to. And what about poor Lucy? He ought to horsewhip Joe.
“No use denying true feelings, Payton. Loving someone ain’t nothing to be ashamed of,” Bert kidded with a wink.
Amos and Felipe’s snickering added to Payton’s misery.
“Yeah, unless she happens to raise sheep,” Joe tossed in.
“Sheep?” Payton’s heart lurched.
“Yes, sheep.” Her face, with its high, sculptured cheekbones tilted in defiance. “I own a sizeable flock of the wooly creatures as if you didn’t already know.” Amanda’s glare aimed a flurry of cartridges and the box too at the narrow space between his eyes.
“You’re
How was he supposed to know what she looked like when he was fairly new to the area?
Tears sparkled in her gaze before glinty steel hardened them into bullets.
The hint of rosewater tickled his nose when she propped her hands on each side of him and leaned over, her feathery breath rumpling the hairs of his mustache. “Darling, I made sure everyone saw you in the company of a lowly sheepherder and obviously very delighted. You know how fast that shoots a respected cattleman’s reputation. I had nothing to lose because the good citizens of Amarillo already revile me. Gentlemen, you best remember that the next time you try to make a fool of me. And trespass on my property again, I’ll fill you so full of holes you’ll have to give up bathing to keep from drowning.”
A flash of her skirts left Payton reeling. His chair turned over when he stood. “Amanda, wait. I can explain.”
“Appears she’s not of a notion to listen,” Joe drawled.
Payton swung with fists clenched. “I oughta beat you like a rented mule. That was the meanest, low-down prank you’ve done. What happened to let bygones be bygones? We shook hands.”
“You should know better than trust a fellow you’ve wronged. My marriage was the best part of me.”
“Don’t think I’m going to forget this.”
“Expect not. But the shock on your face is something to tell around the campfire.” Joe’s chortle drew curious stares from nearby tables. “You were lovin’ right up to her when we came in. Had prunes in your voice and everything. Looked like you were damn near fixin’ to kiss her.”
“I was admiring her…eyes.”
Those full curves had pulled the fabric tight across her chest until he thought her embellishments might pop out accidentally. Imagining the weight of them in his hands didn’t take much effort. Fragrance that spoke of warm nights and full moons promised things he would sell his horse and saddle for.
His lungs swelled with a sudden rush of longing. Damn, Amanda was a bundle of gunpowder and satiny curves. But, she took him for nothing more than a desperate, lonely cowboy who had nothing better to do than write mushy words of love.
Truth to tell, she hit the nail on most of those heads except he wouldn’t depend on paper and pencil to do his talking if he had anything to say.
And then there was the matter of her sheep.
Not exactly a big thing in itself. Not if they were in the heart of Scotland. It was, however, an unforgivable sin when it happened in cow country on cow land. He couldn’t have anyone think for a minute he was a lamb-licker. They’d laugh him plumb out of Texas. In fact, they’d probably already started a petition to bar him from participating in any Cattlemen Association affairs. Amanda was right about the whole town seeing him in her company.
Joe leaned back and hooked his fingers in the waist of his britches. “Yep, I could see you were certainly admiring that part of her anatomy. Someone oughta teach you to lie better.”
Payton slumped weakly into the chair. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him to lower his voice. The damage was done.
They’d fixed him good. He couldn’t live this down.
“Your lady is
“Looks more like the dry wilts to me,” Bert said dryly.
They appeared as satisfied with themselves as pigs in clover.
“Keep your horseback opinions to yourself.” Payton wished he could turn back the clock. He would definitely undo the prank that started all this. Talk about rack and ruin.
“Learn to baaaaah before you go courting.” Amos picked up the valise Amanda had left behind in her hurry and fiddled with the catch.
“Give me that.” Payton jerked the case away before they opened it up in the hotel dining room. That’s all he needed. Lord only knew what would jump out. If she had come hoping to spend the night with the writer of the love letters, which technically meant him even though he hadn’t written ’em, the valise would hold yards of frothy lace and things of dreams. Things that would show every inch of her big…eyes. He flushed, glancing around the dining room.
But the latch had come loose and an assortment of ropes, handcuffs, and…leg irons? flew into the air. The devices came down amid a spilled cushion of lacy apparel fashioned of little more than illusion.
