A Lady of the West by Linda Howard Page A

Emma would stand unflinchingly by her side to face anything. But Emma, for all her willingness, was sensitive enough that conflict could upset her to the point of nausea. So Victoria smiled and shook her head. “No. She’ll be in the stable, as usual. I’ll just tell her we need help with the mending.”
    â€œIf only she understood,” Emma said.
    â€œIf she did, she wouldn’t be Celia.”
    Rather than go through the house, Victoria left the courtyard by the rear gate. The ranch buildings werespread in a semicircle about the house, with the smithy to the right, the springhouse far in the rear, a couple of storage buildings, and two bunkhouses, the stable, an enormous barn, and various corrals extending to the left. It was almost a hundred yards to the stable; by the time she reached it, she wished she had put on a bonnet. The sun was deceptively hot on her bare head.
    The stable, in contrast, was cool and dark, and redolent with the earthy scents of horses, oiled leather, and hay. Temporarily blind, she stood for a moment just inside the door, letting her eyes readjust to the dim light. When she could see again she quickly spied Celia at the far end of the barn. Celia had climbed halfway up the door of a huge corner stall and was leaning over it with her hand outheld.
    Victoria recognized the horse. It was Rubio, the Major’s prize stallion. He had boasted about the horse at length, taking delight in the tales of its kicks and bites as if they were admirable. The stallion had killed the Mexican who had been taking care of him the year before. Seeing Celia like that, so close to the big animal, made Victoria’s heart stop. She took a step forward but didn’t call out, not wanting to startle the horse.
    A man came through the open doors at the other end, a black silhouette painted against the bright sunshine. Even without seeing his features, Victoria recognized Garnet. She hurried her step.
    Rubio neighed warningly as Garnet approached. The horse withdrew to the back of the stall, stamping his feet and snorting.
    Celia turned to the man and said, “You’ve scared him! He was just about to take this sugar from my hand.”
    Garnet hadn’t seen Victoria even though she was no more than twenty feet away when he put his hand on Celia’s leg, then slid it up to her hip. “Let me help you down.”
    Celia laughed, a silvery sound. “I can get down by myself.”
    Angered almost beyond control, Victoria still managed to keep her voice even. “Of course you can. Let’s go back to the house; I need help with the mending.”
    Always amenable, Celia gathered her skirts and jumped to the hay-strewn floor. “I forgot about the mending,” she said apologetically. “I was just talking to Rubio.” She turned back to the stall. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
    He was beautiful, and savage. He was a big horse, superbly muscled, dark red in color. Victoria would have been as enthralled as Celia if it hadn’t been for his eyes; they held not just spirit, but a viciousness that chilled her. The horse was a killer, but Celia saw only beauty.
    â€œYes, he’s beautiful,” Victoria agreed. “Why don’t you run ahead and wash your hands before we start the mending?”
    â€œAll right.” Celia happily left the barn, humming to herself.
    Victoria turned back to Garnet, and inwardly braced herself against the hostility in his expression. She kept her voice cool. “Mr. Garnet, I shall tell you this only once: stay away from my sister. Don’t touch her again.”
    He sneered and took a step toward her. “Or you’ll do what?”
    â€œI’ll tell Mr. McLain you’ve been neglecting your duties and pestering Celia.”
    Garnet laughed, a brutal sound. His eyes were dark pits. “Now, that really scares me. He’ll tell you to mind your own business,
Miz
McLain. I run this ranch, and the Major