This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [59]
They reached the veranda and Slater dropped the blanket on the bench. She was confused. She was sure he had heard what she said, but he said nothing.
“Slater.” She looked up into his face. “Did you hear me say Travis was here today?”
“I heard you.” His voice was bitter and cut into her like a knife. “Why didn’t you tell me before now? What was he doing here?” he demanded. His anger seemed to reach out of the dark and envelop her. Involuntarily, she shrank back. His grip on her arm tightened.
“He said he was hunting in the hills and his mother asked him, if he was over this way, to invite me to a party.” She looked at him fearfully.
“Hunting?” She could almost feel the burning, spitting rage that consumed him. “Hunting what? Some poor Indian to take for a slave? To torment?”
Shook out of her fear by his snarling, accusing words, anger overpowered her.
“He didn’t say what he was hunting. I only know that he conducted himself like a gentleman, and I offered him a meal. What else could I do?”
“You don’t know Travis McLean, or sweet, simpering Ellen!”
Her pride was nipped by the brusque manner in which he dismissed her opinion.
“I have no reason,” she said calmly, “to believe they are my enemies. Ellen was good enough to call on me. She was my mother’s friend and she wants to be my friend. You’re wrong in thinking they had anything to do with killing your father. Ellen had nothing but good -things to say about you and Sam.”
“So!” He flung the word into her face like a slap. “You think she was Nannie’s friend? She despised Nannie, despised my mother, despised me, despised anything or anyone that stood between her and my pa. When she finally realized she couldn’t have him, she wanted him dead! With me dead, she would have at least a part of him—his ranch!”
“You don’t know that, Slater.” Angry frustration ran rampant through her and her argument burst forth in a torrent. “You’re allowing your suspicion to cloud your judgment. If you had proof against them, why didn’t you take it to the law?”
“The law? You little fool, there’s no law here! The army does what it can, but that amounts to about as much as a pimple on a jaybird’s ass. Do you think it’s luck this ranch isn’t overrun with outlaws renegades, Indians? It’s safe for you because my men keep it that way. I lose one or two good men every year keeping ‘law’ on my land.”
Sheer desperation made Summer find words, any words, just so she could defend her stand.
“You still have no proof Ellen wanted you killed so she could have the ranch. She couldn’t know she would get it if you were dead.”
“Yes, she did. McLean land always goes to blood McLeans, and sorry as he is, Travis is a McLean. Uncle Scott claimed him, though God only knows how he could have sired such a pervert.” He cupped her face between his palms as if he thought to mold and memorize its contours as he studied it through narrowed eyes.
Summer’s anger was over. Now she wanted to cry, but pride forbade the use of tears to soften him.
“Slater, please, try to understand.”
“Understand? You either believe what I tell you or what Ellen tells you. It’s that simple. I love you more than life, Summer, and I was hoping, was beginning to believe, that you loved me in return. The foundation of love is trust, loyalty.”
“How can you doubt that I love you? Do you think I would have . . . could have? . . .” A note of weariness crept into her voice, tears filled her eyes, and her soft mouth trembled. A brief pause ensued, while they searched each other’s faces. Shyly, hesitantly, she slipped her arms about his neck and, standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss on his stern, unyielding mouth. His breath left him in a sudden gasp, and his arms closed about her in a crushing grip. Slowly, her sobbing lips parted and yielded to his passionate kiss.
If she expected to see a softening in his face when he released her, she was disappointed. There was an uneasy silence, while he scrutinized her openly. Tears blurred her vision and she drew a ragged breath. She tried