"She kissed you?" Sam Marston paused with her glass in mid-air as she
gazed at her husband in surprise. Dinner was almost over. Candlelight
gilded the wine and reflected off the silverware on the battered table in
their bedroom.
She'd completed a very active day. Ted and Barney accepted her new status as their boss's wife with little difficulty. She had been amused when, after a moment of surprise, they had pulled off their hats. It was a respectful gesture that had not been accorded to their fellow employee Sam Flanagan.
Checking out of the Royal was easier than she'd anticipated. Although too conscious of their status as the premier hotel in town to actually eject a customer as well-heeled as her husband, it was obvious that their departure was a relief to the staff. The wagons back to the ranch had been loaded in record time.
The biggest problem she'd had to face had been the boys. Liam asked only one question: "Does Elliott want us to go to his ranch?" Upon hearing an affirmative answer, he'd nodded and set out to pack his belongings for the trip. Conn's major concern was whether he'd have his blanked and his tin soldiers. Niall was another matter.
To her surprise, Niall listened quietly, his large gray eyes unblinking and solemn. He'd asked no questions and made no comments. Sam didn't know what to make of his response. She couldn't forget the sight of his forlorn figure on the last wagon, staring back at her in mute appeal, as it lumbered down the street.
"Just once." Elliott Marston took a bite of his chicken and chewed meditatively. "Now why would Ches Watters want me dead?"
"Where did she kiss you?" She sipped her wine, dragging her mind back to immediate issues.
"Hm? Oh, in the back parlor." He mopped up some gravy with a crust of bread. "I've been racking my brains but it's no good. I've never even heard of the man. And he certainly didn't know me that day at Fletcher's Stables."
"That's not what I meant. On the lips?" With a frown, Sam plunked her glass on the table and picked up her fork. "Or where?"
"What are you talking about?" Marston looked up, surprised at her tone. "She kissed my ear. That's all she had time for."
"Well, I think I'm going to have a word with Miss Lilly before bedtime." She stabbed her fork into a potato and mutilated it into bite-size pieces with her knife.
"I tell you that a man I never heard of tried to hire your father to kill me and you're worried about whether some woman kissed me?" He stared at her incredulously. It seemed a strange priority under the circumstances.
"Let's deal with one subject at a time." The potato required quite a bit of aggressive chewing. "Did you like it?"
"No, I didn't. I don't care for attar of roses." He pushed his plate away, watching her warily. She poked at her food, avoiding his gaze.
"I'll show you how it happened if you like." He stood up and held out his hand. She accepted it with a sidelong look, suspicious of his bland tone. "We don't have an overstuffed chair up here so we'll have to use the bed."
He sat down and bounced into the center of the mattress. "She was sitting on my lap like this. That's right." He positioned her properly. "Now put your arms around my neck."
"Yes, I can see how she did it." Lilly's methods were not sophisticated, Sam decided. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his ear. "Now tell me what else she said about Watters."
"That was all. Either she's not a great listener or he wasn't a big talker." Marston frowned, his brow furrowed in concentration. "What did Watters have against me?"
"Maybe Watters was just the middle-man." Sam kissed her way along his jaw to his chin. "Someone who does have a grudge against you could have got him to hire Dad."
"Maybe." He tilted his head back to make things easier for her. "But that doesn't answer the main question. Who in this town wants me dead? And why?"
"It would have to be someone pretty big to explain why a rich business lawyer like Robert Buttershaw would be involved." Sam began an intimate assault on his other ear. "He wasn't interested in Ches Watters. He was protecting someone else."
"Brilliant as well as beautiful!" Marston hugged her waist as he considered the possibilities. "Now let me think. The only people in town that I deal with regularly are my banker, my lawyer and my suppliers."
"It's not likely to be someone in that group. You're a source of revenue for them." Sam ran her fingers through his hair. It seemed to aid in her thinking, so she did it again. "And why would they try to kill you now instead of last year or next year? It doesn't make sense."
"Very well. Then it's someone else." Marston leaned back against the pillows and furrowed his brow in concentration. "I don't mix socially with very many people when I'm here."
"You must have some friends in town." She sat up and kissed his nose.
"There's Gil Johnson, the mayor. But I can't see him dealing with the likes of Watters." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You know, you're much better at this than Lilly."
"Thank you, kind sir. I do aim to please." Lilly's pose was not designed for long-term activity. Sam twisted around so that she was straddling his lap with her knees on the bed. She resumed her admiration of his ear.
"You're right. We've got to find out who Buttershaw's clients and friends are. I'll talk to Collins in the morning."
"You'll do no such thing." Sam shrugged off his grip and pushed him down into the softness of the bed. "I'll talk to Melvin in the morning. You'll stay here where it's safe." She leaned over him in a mock-threatening manner.
"Very well." He grinned up at her. "I'll stay here where all I have to worry about is fighting off half-naked women."
"Nice try, Mr. Marston." She straightened up, hands on her hips. "But by tomorrow morning you won't be much use to them."
She'd completed a very active day. Ted and Barney accepted her new status as their boss's wife with little difficulty. She had been amused when, after a moment of surprise, they had pulled off their hats. It was a respectful gesture that had not been accorded to their fellow employee Sam Flanagan.
Checking out of the Royal was easier than she'd anticipated. Although too conscious of their status as the premier hotel in town to actually eject a customer as well-heeled as her husband, it was obvious that their departure was a relief to the staff. The wagons back to the ranch had been loaded in record time.
The biggest problem she'd had to face had been the boys. Liam asked only one question: "Does Elliott want us to go to his ranch?" Upon hearing an affirmative answer, he'd nodded and set out to pack his belongings for the trip. Conn's major concern was whether he'd have his blanked and his tin soldiers. Niall was another matter.
To her surprise, Niall listened quietly, his large gray eyes unblinking and solemn. He'd asked no questions and made no comments. Sam didn't know what to make of his response. She couldn't forget the sight of his forlorn figure on the last wagon, staring back at her in mute appeal, as it lumbered down the street.
"Just once." Elliott Marston took a bite of his chicken and chewed meditatively. "Now why would Ches Watters want me dead?"
"Where did she kiss you?" She sipped her wine, dragging her mind back to immediate issues.
"Hm? Oh, in the back parlor." He mopped up some gravy with a crust of bread. "I've been racking my brains but it's no good. I've never even heard of the man. And he certainly didn't know me that day at Fletcher's Stables."
"That's not what I meant. On the lips?" With a frown, Sam plunked her glass on the table and picked up her fork. "Or where?"
"What are you talking about?" Marston looked up, surprised at her tone. "She kissed my ear. That's all she had time for."
"Well, I think I'm going to have a word with Miss Lilly before bedtime." She stabbed her fork into a potato and mutilated it into bite-size pieces with her knife.
"I tell you that a man I never heard of tried to hire your father to kill me and you're worried about whether some woman kissed me?" He stared at her incredulously. It seemed a strange priority under the circumstances.
"Let's deal with one subject at a time." The potato required quite a bit of aggressive chewing. "Did you like it?"
"No, I didn't. I don't care for attar of roses." He pushed his plate away, watching her warily. She poked at her food, avoiding his gaze.
"I'll show you how it happened if you like." He stood up and held out his hand. She accepted it with a sidelong look, suspicious of his bland tone. "We don't have an overstuffed chair up here so we'll have to use the bed."
He sat down and bounced into the center of the mattress. "She was sitting on my lap like this. That's right." He positioned her properly. "Now put your arms around my neck."
"Yes, I can see how she did it." Lilly's methods were not sophisticated, Sam decided. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his ear. "Now tell me what else she said about Watters."
"That was all. Either she's not a great listener or he wasn't a big talker." Marston frowned, his brow furrowed in concentration. "What did Watters have against me?"
"Maybe Watters was just the middle-man." Sam kissed her way along his jaw to his chin. "Someone who does have a grudge against you could have got him to hire Dad."
"Maybe." He tilted his head back to make things easier for her. "But that doesn't answer the main question. Who in this town wants me dead? And why?"
"It would have to be someone pretty big to explain why a rich business lawyer like Robert Buttershaw would be involved." Sam began an intimate assault on his other ear. "He wasn't interested in Ches Watters. He was protecting someone else."
"Brilliant as well as beautiful!" Marston hugged her waist as he considered the possibilities. "Now let me think. The only people in town that I deal with regularly are my banker, my lawyer and my suppliers."
"It's not likely to be someone in that group. You're a source of revenue for them." Sam ran her fingers through his hair. It seemed to aid in her thinking, so she did it again. "And why would they try to kill you now instead of last year or next year? It doesn't make sense."
"Very well. Then it's someone else." Marston leaned back against the pillows and furrowed his brow in concentration. "I don't mix socially with very many people when I'm here."
"You must have some friends in town." She sat up and kissed his nose.
"There's Gil Johnson, the mayor. But I can't see him dealing with the likes of Watters." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You know, you're much better at this than Lilly."
"Thank you, kind sir. I do aim to please." Lilly's pose was not designed for long-term activity. Sam twisted around so that she was straddling his lap with her knees on the bed. She resumed her admiration of his ear.
"You're right. We've got to find out who Buttershaw's clients and friends are. I'll talk to Collins in the morning."
"You'll do no such thing." Sam shrugged off his grip and pushed him down into the softness of the bed. "I'll talk to Melvin in the morning. You'll stay here where it's safe." She leaned over him in a mock-threatening manner.
"Very well." He grinned up at her. "I'll stay here where all I have to worry about is fighting off half-naked women."
"Nice try, Mr. Marston." She straightened up, hands on her hips. "But by tomorrow morning you won't be much use to them."