Rebel Outlaw by Carol Arens

Author:Carol Arens [Arens, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-07-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Colt huddled into his duster against the brisk November wind. He turned up the collar. It was damn cold after sundown even wrapped up in his coat.

He stood in the yard watching the homey scene being played out through the dining room window. Holly Jane, Grannie Rose and Aunt Tillie sat about the table eating and laughing. Behind them he saw the flames of a cozy fire casting the dining room in a soft orange glow.

Only a fool would shiver outside, watching smoke curl out of the chimney. A boy might avoid going inside his own house because of a woman, but he hadn’t been a boy in a long time. Hell, maybe he never had been.

He stomped up the porch stairs, strode through the parlor and into the dining room.

“Good evening, ladies.” He shrugged out of his coat and let the flames from the fireplace warm his backside. “What’s on the menu?”

“It’s good to see you’ve come to your senses, Colt.” Aunt Tillie pointed to the place they had left for him at the table.

His dinner plate was already piled high with beef and spuds, so he sat down to the warm feast. He wouldn’t miss supper in the barn. The horses hadn’t turned out to be the most sociable of eating companions.

“We were just discussing what we should serve for the carousel party,” Holly Jane said, smiling at him without a trace of resentment in her voice.

He nodded and shoved a spoon of potatoes in his mouth. It was almost as though she had forgotten the other night...or maybe that moment hadn’t been the earthquake of passion for her that it had been for him.

“What do you think, Colt?” she asked. “Cookies are easier but pumpkin pies would suit the season.”

He swallowed the lump of potatoes, hard.

“A chocolate pie would suit everyone, I’m sure.” Grannie Rose smiled and patted his hand. “It might even sweeten your cousin Cyrus.”

“We could send him one, I reckon,” he said, and lightly pressed the tissue-thin flesh of her hand. “Doubt if it would get to the Broken Brand in one piece, though.”

“But it wouldn’t have to. Cyrus is here. I saw him just this morning.”

“Here where, Grannie?” He was becoming alarmed by Grannie’s visions. They seemed as real to her as Aunt Tillie’s frown at this moment.

“He was at the carousel, sitting on the back of a giraffe...also in the garden, but that was later.”

“It’s a wonder he wasn’t run off by the alligator, Rose,” Aunt Tillie said with a sigh.

“The alligator wasn’t there today, but the monkey was. He was hanging on to Cyrus’s hat poking at his eyes. I did think it strange that Cyrus didn’t seem to mind.”

“Remember what we said, Rose? Those things you see aren’t real. If the monkey really had been poking Cyrus in the eye, he’d have shot him.”

“I don’t recall a gunshot, and the monkey was fit as a fiddle just before dinner.” Grannie Rose shrugged. “I’m still for chocolate-something... You decide, Holly Jane.

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