Catch Of The Day
"Why, Teresa O'Brien, where have you been?" The blonde gave Teresa a smile, and kissed the air above her cheek. "You naughty thing! I've been home for two weeks now and you haven't come once to call on me. If I didn't know better, I would think you were mad at your old school chum. Let me look at you. Why, what have you been doing to yourself? You're just as pretty as a picture. Isn't she, girls?"
Teresa's eyes widened. She had never been particularly chummy with the banker's daughter or her friends. They were a few years older, and inclined to look down their noses at the girls whose fathers worked for other men. Teresa's father might have been foreman of the largest ranch in the valley, but that didn't impress Susannah Wheeler.
"I've been awfully busy at the ranch," she said honestly. "There's been a lot to do, with Johnny hurt, and then all the spring work."
Susannah exchanged a meaningful look with Flossie Parkhurst, the daughter of the Green River storekeeper, and Ellen Baker, whose father owned a ranch, even if it wasn't as big as Lancer. "Johnny?" Susannah said carelessly. "Is that one of Mr. Lancer's sons? I think someone did mention they were both home."
"Yes, Johnny and Scott came home this spring." Teresa beamed. "They helped stop Pardee, but Johnny was shot in the fight and badly hurt."
Susannah's nose wrinkled. "I heard something about a dreadful man who was trying to take over Lancer. Thank goodness it was all over before Mother and I returned from back east."
"It wasn't just Lancer," Teresa told her. "Pardee wouldn't have stopped there."
Ellen nodded unexpectedly. "That's right. My pa said it was only a matter of time before he hit every ranch."
"Goodness," Susannah said. "The Lancer boys must be quite the local heroes then. I can't wait to meet them. Tell me, Teresa, what are they like?"
"Oh, they're both really nice," Teresa assured her.
Susannah's smile grew wider. "So, that's why you haven't been to town. Clever, clever girl, but so selfish to be keeping them all to yourself."
Teresa was baffled. "What do you mean?" she asked. "They're my brothers."
If Teresa truly believed that, she was even more stupid than Susannah thought. But it suited her purposes just fine, so she continued to coo at the idiot girl. "You simply must come and tell me all about it. The girls and I were just on our way to my house."
"Thank you, Susannah, but I can't, really. I'm supposed to meet Scott at the livery stable in ten minutes. He only came in to mail a letter, and I promised I wouldn't keep him waiting."
"Teresa, Teresa," Susannah sighed. "You have so much to learn. A lady always keeps a gentleman waiting."
Flossie and Ellen giggled.
"Murdoch doesn't like it if I'm not punctual," Teresa said doubtfully. "And I don't think Scott will either."
"You just listen to me," Susannah urged her. "Why, didn't I just spend two years at one of the best schools for young ladies back east?"
"Y-e-s," Teresa conceded.
"Then I think you'll have to agree that I know better than you do, dear." Susannah took Teresa's arm and propelled her along the boardwalk. "We'll just have some tea and a little talk, and then you can meet your brother." She waggled her eyebrows at Flossie and Ellen, who giggled again.
Teresa dragged her feet. "Honestly, I don't think I should."
"Teresa O'Brien!" Susannah said. "Do you think I don't know about proper behavior?"
"I didn't say that," Teresa faltered, unsure of herself in the face of the older girl's confidence.
"I should hope not. Now, come on."
***
Scott paced up and down in front of the livery stable. He pulled his watch out again. Teresa was more than thirty minutes late. He snapped his watch shut and replaced it in his pocket. He expected better of Teresa, but supposed he shouldn't be so disappointed that western girls weren't really so different from their eastern counterparts. Next time he would know, and might not be so willing to take her along on what was supposed to be a quick trip into town and back.
He sighed. He really hadn't wanted to waste any more time than necessary today. He needed to mail a response to his grandfather, who was demanding that he return immediately to Boston, but there was a lot to do at the ranch, more than he ever dreamed.
The Bostonian also didn't want to leave his brother on his own for too long. Johnny had healed remarkably quickly, but Scott didn't think he was back to 100 percent yet, even if he wouldn't admit it. He really shouldn't be working on the fence line all by himself. Murdoch pushed Johnny hard, too hard in Scott's opinion, but Johnny pushed himself even harder.
Scott's mouth curved upward. It had hit him like a thunderbolt, the news that he even had a brother. He never could have imagined this particular brother, not in his wildest dreams. They were both shocked when Teresa broke it to them, shocked and not too pleased.
Scott still wasn't sure what to make of the wild, insanely reckless and decidedly hostile younger man when Pardee shot Johnny off his horse, but he started to go to his brother without even thinking about it. When Murdoch pulled him back, muttering it was no use, the sense of loss stunned him.
Johnny's convalescence reduced his hostility, but hadn't really provided much opportunity for the brothers to get better acquainted. For one thing, Murdoch and Teresa had been hovering anxiously over the boy most of the time. Scott's mouth twitched. Johnny resorted to pretending he was asleep most of the time when someone entered his room, and Scott really couldn't blame him. The trouble was, it just increased Murdoch and Teresa's anxiety and they fussed even more.
Now, at last, Johnny was back on his feet and the brothers had been spending a lot of time together as they both learned about ranching. Johnny knew more than Scott did about the cattle, the country and the men, of course, but less about the bookkeeping and business side of it.
The more time Scott spent with him, the more he was intrigued. And Johnny seemed to be equally curious. It wasn't his way to ask personal questions, any more than it was his way to answer many, but Scott knew his highly observant brother was watching him, just as he was watching Johnny.
He pulled out his watch again. Where in the world could Teresa be? He had already checked the store she planned to visit and she wasn't there, despite promising that her errand would only take a few minutes and then she would go straight to the livery stable to meet him. He couldn't just pick up the thread for her, she explained at breakfast, since she needed to match the color to the new dress she was sewing. Scott had rarely seen the girl wear a dress, in more than a month at the ranch, but he refrained from comment on that.
He wished now that he had also found a way to refrain from taking her into town. Never again, he vowed.
"Scott!" Teresa hurried down the boardwalk breathlessly. "I'm so sorry. I ran into some friends, and they insisted that I stop for tea. Are you mad at me?"
"Not at all," he lied politely, offering her a hand to step up into the buggy.
***
Susannah pushed back the drapes in the front parlor as the Lancer buggy headed briskly down the street. Her mother was visiting a neighbor, and the girls were alone in the house. "He's awfully handsome," she mused. "And you say he's from Boston?"
"He went to Harvard," Flossie informed her dreamily. "And he was a cavalry officer during the war. You should hear him talk. He's so cultured, nothing like the boys around here. I could just listen to his voice for hours."
Susannah doubted very much that Scott Lancer would ever have much to say to Flossie Parkhurst. Flossie was her best friend out here, where she had so few choices, but the girl looked like a horse and she was sadly freckled.
"Johnny is awfully good looking too," Ellen chimed in.
"Do the two of them look alike?" Susannah asked.
Ellen shook her head. "Not at all. You'd never even guess they're brothers. Johnny has dark hair, and the most incredible blue eyes. And the way he moves..." Her voice broke off and she blushed.
Susannah was thoughtful. Ellen obviously had a crush on the younger Lancer brother. She hadn't thought Ellen had it in her. The girl wasn't homely, not like poor Flossie, but she was such an innocent. She had a round, sweet face and fine brown hair, which she still wore braided down her back like a twelve-year-old.
She glanced at Flossie and was surprised to see the storekeeper's daughter was nodding in agreement. Perhaps she shouldn't choose so hastily, at least, not until she had a chance to meet both of the brothers and compare them. She had every intention of reeling in one of them, since Lancer was the biggest fish in the valley. She rather liked the look of Scott, but she hadn't seen Johnny yet. She certainly didn't want to make a mistake about this.
"Do you think they'll go to the dance Saturday night?" she asked.
"They haven't yet," Ellen said mournfully. "They did come into town the last few Saturday nights, but they went to the saloon and never came near the dance."
Susannah's eyes narrowed. This was an unexpected setback. She had to meet the Lancer brothers to charm the Lancer brothers. And a dance offered the best opportunity to get close to them. She considered the problem for a moment and an idea occurred to her.
"What about Teresa?" she asked. "Does she go to the dances?"
"Not usually," Flossie said. She laughed. "I'm not sure that girl even owns any dresses, besides that old muslin she always wears to church on Sundays. She's still such a tomboy.
Susannah smiled. "Poor little Teresa," she said. "We should really take her in hand, girls."
"What do you mean?" Flossie said.
"Well, she barely even knows she's a girl," Susannah said. "Living out on that ranch with all those men, and no mother, how is she ever going to find herself a husband?"
"Maybe she'll catch one of the Lancer brothers," Flossie said, a little spitefully.
"Maybe she will," Susannah said sweetly. "But I hardly think that's suitable, do you? After all, they are her foster brothers. She said so herself."
Flossie frowned. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well, I think we should help Teresa meet some of the other boys in town," Susannah purred.
"Teresa knows the other boys." Ellen was puzzled. "She went to school with most of them, same as we did."
"Ellen, dear, you poor sweet," Susannah said. "Maybe I should take you in hand too."
Ellen turned pink again as the two other girls burst into laughter.
***
Susannah had no trouble persuading her mother to make a call on Lancer the next afternoon. Mrs. Wheeler was just as ambitious as her only daughter. She had pushed up the date of their return trip home from Philadelphia when a friend mentioned in a letter that Murdoch Lancer's sons were home and unmarried.
Of course, she was profoundly disappointed that Susannah hadn't taken advantage of her expensive stay at the seminary to catch a good husband, but this could all work out better than she had ever dreamed. She could almost forgive the girl for that foolish fling with the handsome fortune hunter, the one that sent her all the way to Philadelphia to collect her errant daughter and bring her home. At least, she could forgive Susannah if she managed to become the mistress of Lancer.
Mrs. Wheeler allowed herself to daydream a little on the way to the ranch. Of course, Susannah would redecorate the entire hacienda, which clearly showed the effects of being a bachelor household for nearly twenty years. And she and her husband would do a lot of entertaining there, although perhaps they'd also have a house in San Francisco or Sacramento. She would visit them frequently, she decided. A girl needed her mother's guidance as she entered married life and navigated the social scene. And there would be children, of course, darling little heirs to Murdoch Lancer's empire who would adore their grandmother. They'd have a boy and a girl, at least. One of the rooms upstairs would make a perfect nursery.
She had elected Susannah's husband to the state legislature, and flirted seriously with the idea of a campaign for governor by the time their buggy rolled under the arch.
Mrs. Wheeler had no doubts at all about which brother Susannah should choose. She hadn't ever met Catherine Lancer, but she was a lady by all accounts, something that certainly wasn't true of Murdoch's second wife. The ladies of the valley were scandalized when Murdoch brought Maria Lancer home. She was too young, too beautiful and too Mexican.
Of course, everyone felt badly for Murdoch when she ran off and took their little boy with her, but what did he expect?
Apart from his tainted heritage, Mrs. Wheeler didn't think Johnny Lancer sounded like ideal husband material, not from what she'd heard so far. His upbringing was scandalous and there were whispers he was actually a gunfighter himself.
In the end, if it proved necessary, Mrs. Wheeler was prepared to settle for Johnny as a son-in-law, on the theory that any Lancer was better than none. But Scott Lancer definitely sounded like the far more suitable choice, if only Susannah would be sensible about this. There really shouldn't be any question about it.
Mrs. Wheeler cast a glance at her blond daughter. She was a beautiful girl and always had been, the apple of her proud parents' eyes, but she was also a very willful child, absolutely determined to get her own way.
In fact, she suddenly remembered uneasily, Johnny Lancer and Susannah had been occasional playmates when they were small. They were very nearly the same age and Lancer was one of the bank's best customers, even in those early days when Murdoch was building his ranch. She and Maria Lancer were never friendly, but Murdoch and her husband were close, and the two families visited back and forth. As she recalled now, it had been hard to say which of the two children was cuter and which of them could display a more fearsome temper. Murdoch and Frank had even joked about the possibility of the two of them making a match of it someday, if they didn't kill each other first.
Susannah wouldn't remember Johnny, of course, and Mrs. Wheeler wasn't about to tell her about it. They were mere babies at the time.
It didn't mean anything now, she told herself.
***
Neither of the Lancer sons was home, not that Susannah expected them to be, but their father was working on the accounts at his desk.
"Little Susannah Wheeler," he said, after greeting her mother courteously. "You certainly have grown up since the last time I saw you."
Susannah dimpled at him. "I hope that's not a disappointment."
"Not at all, my dear," he said. "You're a beautiful young lady, as I'm sure the young men all tell you."
"Why thank you, sir. I'm afraid the young men aren't nearly so charming."
"Then the young men must be blind," he said, shaking his head.
Teresa carried in a tray with lemonade and cookies. She wore jeans and a cotton shirt, like a boy. She told the Wheelers cheerfully that she had been cleaning out her chicken coop, and she answered the door with a smudge of dirt across her nose. She had, at least, washed her face and hands before bringing in refreshments, but wisps of loose hair still escaped from her ponytail. It was definitely past time for someone to teach her that she was a girl, Susannah thought.
"Did you enjoy your time away at school, Susannah?" Murdoch asked while Teresa poured lemonade and passed cookies.
"Very much, but it's nice to be home again too," Susannah said. "I didn't realize how much I missed California until I saw it again."
"I've tried to convince Teresa she should consider going east to school, for at least a year, but she doesn't want to leave the ranch. And I must admit, I don't know what we would do without her." Murdoch's eyes rested fondly on his ward, and she gave him a smile back.
"I don't need to go to a fancy school," she said. "I'm happy right where I am."
"No doubt," Mrs. Wheeler sniffed. "Of course, it's important to fit a girl for her position in life. Naturally, Frank and I felt nothing but the best would do for our Susannah."
"More lemonade?" Teresa picked up the pitcher and indicated Mrs. Wheeler's empty glass.
"Thank you."
Susannah leaned forward, and fixed her big eyes on Murdoch. "Actually, we came out here today because we thought perhaps Teresa isn't in a position to join in with some of the activities for young people in the town, and that we might help."
"What do you mean?" Murdoch asked.
"Well, there's the dance in town every Saturday night," Susannah said. "It's such a long way back and forth from the ranch. I thought perhaps Teresa could come into town earlier, in the afternoon. We could dress for the dance at our house, and then she could spend the night. We have plenty of room."
Murdoch pursed his lips. "That's very thoughtful," he began.
"Scott and Johnny will take me into town and back if I want to go to the dance," Teresa interrupted abruptly.
Murdoch had witnessed his sons' early morning return from spending Saturday night in town the week before, and did not think that was a good idea. Johnny had been singing and Scott was definitely unsteady on his feet. And the week before, Johnny got into a gunfight in the saloon and hadn't returned at all that night.
Besides, it took more than an hour to drive into Green River. Murdoch couldn't say he fully understood female fashion, but he did know that an hour in a buggy on a dusty road didn't help, and that Teresa certainly couldn't ride astride in a pretty frock, like the ones all the other girls wore to the dances.
He should have thought to drive her into the dances himself and chaperone her, but it would be agony for his sensitive back.
"I think it's a good idea, sweetheart," he said. "Someone will drive you in Saturday, and then I'll meet you at church Sunday morning and take you home afterward."
***
"Did Teresa say she wanted to go to the dance?" Scott asked a few hours later, after they finished supper and settled in the great room for the evening. Teresa was out in the kitchen and the three Lancers were alone.
"No," Murdoch said. "But she wouldn't, not if she thought it was too much trouble."
Scott frowned. "Well, if she's going, Johnny and I will too, just to keep an eye on her."
"No way," Johnny mumbled. He had stretched out like a cat on the rug in front of the fire, his dark head pillowed on his arms. Scott thought he was already asleep. "Speak for yourself, Boston."
"I'm certainly not going to let my sister dance with just any cowboy who might ask her," Scott observed.
That got Johnny's attention. He lifted his head, blinking in the firelight as he tried to keep his heavy-lidded eyes open. "She don't even want to go to the dance," he argued.
"She should go to the dance, like the other girls her age," Scott declared. "We should have offered to escort her before now. Besides, if she's going to spend the night with the Wheelers, you and I can always visit the saloon afterward. The, uh, game goes all night."
Johnny wasn't used to waiting an entire week between his visits to the saloon, and neither the poker game nor the tequila were the main attractions for him. He glared at his brother, but wisely held his tongue for once.
Murdoch knew perfectly well what his two sons were probably doing on Saturday nights. He prayed they were being careful, but they were both young men, not children, and he didn't know either of them well enough to venture any advice on this subject. He thought it was a good idea for them to attend the dance too. Perhaps they would meet some eligible girls, and settle down to produce some Lancer grandchildren. Murdoch wanted grandchildren, but not without benefit of marriage. He wondered if either of his sons had met Susannah Wheeler yet.
He corralled his thoughts. "That's settled then," he said a little too heartily. "Did you finish that fence line today?"
Johnny put his head down again, leaving it to Scott to answer.
"Scott?" Murdoch said softly, when he was sure Johnny was fast asleep. "Is he really all right?"
Scott looked at his brother. For some reason he didn't quite understand, Murdoch found it much easier to express his concern for his younger son when Johnny wasn't able to hear it. "Yes, I think so, sir. He wears out more quickly than I think he's used to, but it's getting better all the time. He pushes himself pretty hard."
"About some things." Murdoch's voice was sour.
"About most things, from what I can see." Scott's voice was dry. "You don't give him enough credit."
Murdoch hesitated. "I'm glad that you're going to escort your sister, but Johnny may not know how to behave at a dance," he finally said. "Your brother, well, he probably hasn't had a lot of contact with girls."
Scott nearly choked on his drink, thinking of just how much contact Johnny had managed in the saloon on their first visit before he went upstairs with a very willing redheaded girl. Scott was sure the two of them had contacted each other repeatedly and quite thoroughly before Johnny came downstairs hours later with a satisfied smirk on his face. The saloon girls competed for his attention the next time they visited.
"You know what I mean." Murdoch's neck was dull red. "Girls like Teresa and Susannah Wheeler."
"Johnny treats Teresa like she was made of spun glass," Scott said. "It will be fine, sir."
"I hope so," Murdoch said gloomily. "But you'll keep an eye out for him too, and try to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble?"
"Absolutely," Scott said recklessly. "You can count on me."
***
Susannah watched over her own partner's shoulder as Scott Lancer maneuvered his foster sister around the dance floor. He was a good dancer, she noted, as she adroitly avoided her partner's clumsy boots. And he cleaned up very nicely indeed. His smooth blond hair gleamed in the lamplight, he had shaved recently, and he wore a jacket and tie. He wasn't dressed as formally as a gentleman would dress for a dance back east, but far better than most of the men in the room. She liked the way his clothes fitted on his long, lean frame, and the hint of muscle in his legs and shoulders. Her eyes went to his face, almost classically handsome. The two of them would make a striking pair, their looks complementing each other.
Her partner whirled her around, and her eyes moved across the room to another young man. Johnny Lancer was slouched against a wall, watching the dancers lazily. A stray piece of dark hair fell over his forehead. Unlike his freshly barbered brother, he could use a haircut. He wore vaquero pants, with silver conchos down the side, and a white shirt with embroidered trim. His clothes fit him well too, although not at all in the same way as his brother's. He wasn't as tall as Scott, but he was lean too, and he radiated something that made her bones feel softer and her heart beat faster. His eyes caught hers, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly in a crooked smile. She could drown in those sea blue eyes.
Susannah wrenched her eyes away with an effort, and smiled coolly at her partner as the music ended. He gave her an eager look and offered to fetch her some punch, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Susannah, I want you to meet my foster brother, Scott Lancer," Teresa said when they met at the refreshment table. "Scott, this is Susannah Wheeler."
"It's a pleasure," she smiled, looking up into blue-gray eyes.
"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Wheeler," he responded. His voice was just as pleasant as the rest of him, deep but smooth. "May I have the next dance?"
She didn't know why she glanced across the room. She recovered quickly. This was definitely the right brother for what she had in mind. One look at Johnny had been enough to tell her that. Johnny had a disturbing tendency to put other things in her mind, but she set them aside for now. "Why, certainly, Mr. Lancer."
Johnny danced once with Teresa, while Susannah was dancing with Scott, and then disappeared into the shadows again. Susannah caught an occasional glimpse of him, but didn't actually meet the younger Lancer brother until the very end of the dance, when Scott offered to see her and Teresa home.
She was piqued by then, and her eyes held a challenge when Scott snagged Johnny out of the crowd and introduced them.
"Don't you dance, Mr. Lancer?" she asked, peeking up through her lashes.
His lashes were just as long as hers, if not longer, but didn't hide the gleam of mischief in those blue eyes. "Sometimes," he drawled. His voice was unexpectedly soft, and slightly husky.
Susannah's hand itched to push that wayward lock of hair off his forehead. He knew it too, she realized. She turned to Scott, and gave him an overly bright smile. "You dance very well."
"It's easy enough with the right partner," he said gallantly, helping her with her wrap. "May I?"
She put her hand on his sleeve, and her smile grew. "Of course. Thank you."
***
Scott took a sip of whiskey, and looked at his brother, slumped in a chair pushed up against the back wall of the saloon. Johnny's eyes were half-closed and he looked relaxed, but Scott knew he was watching the room, measuring everyone there and registering their movements.
He'd done the same thing at the dance. Johnny didn't like crowds, and Scott supposed that was understandable since he felt the need to keep track of everything going on in the room.
"So, what did you think of Teresa's friend, Miss Wheeler?" he asked.
The blue eyes flickered and then returned to the bar, where an inebriated cowboy was arguing with a busty saloon girl, dressed in a brief concoction of satin, lace and feathers. Scott watched them too for a few minutes. The young woman seemed to be perfectly capable of dealing with the cowboy herself. The crowd around the bar hooted as she said something to him.
"You seemed to like her," Johnny observed.
"She's a beautiful girl," Scott poured himself another shot of whiskey. Johnny was drinking tequila, as usual. "And quite the lady."
"Mmm," Johnny said. "Think so, Boston?"
"Well, she would certainly expect more than you might be prepared to give her in return for any favors." Scott's eyes were on his brother, his face serious. "Be careful, little brother. Be very, very careful."
Johnny cocked one eyebrow, and a grin flashed across his face. "I was going to tell you the same thing."
Scott shook his head. "I know the type, Johnny, and I know better. She is indeed lovely to look at, but the price is high if you can't resist touching. Too high, as far as I'm concerned."
Johnny made a face. "Suppose a man could do worse than to cuddle up with that in his bed every night, but it isn't what I have in mind, not yet anyhow. Sure you ain't interested? The two of you looked real - pretty - together."
Scott nodded. "I'm positive." His eyes were on the busty girl, who gave him a little pout and licked her lips. "It's not at all what I have in mind yet either, not for a few more years."
"Why do you suppose she's suddenly so interested in making friends with Teresa?" Johnny asked, his voice absent. He was looking across the room too, at a lithe, dark-haired girl who winked back at him. "T'resa told me they aren't really old school friends. Says she barely even spoke to her when they were kids."
That drew Scott's attention. "Miss Wheeler is fishing, Johnny," he said. "I'd guess she isn't interested in Teresa at all, other than as a means to an end. But she was right that Teresa needs an opportunity to get out and meet some young men, like the other girls. She's a young woman, not a little girl."
"Hope that doesn't mean we're going to have to go to the damn dance every week to ride herd on her," Johnny complained. "And those young men better keep their hands to themselves, if they know what's good for them."
Scott grinned then. "I imagine they have about the same thing in mind that you do when you meet a girl," he pointed out.
"Exactly," Johnny grumbled. For just a moment, he looked and sounded so much like their father that Scott laughed out loud.
He rose to his feet, picking up his bottle. "I'll see you later, brother, much later. Be good."
"No fun in that." Johnny gave Scott a dazzling smile, and beckoned to the dark-haired girl. She was already sitting on his lap, her hand playing with the buttons of his shirt, and he was whispering something in her ear when Scott escorted the busty girl up the stairs, on their way to a place where they could get acquainted in privacy.
***
Susannah Wheeler was frustrated. Scott Lancer was charming and perfectly correct whenever she met him, and nothing more. As far as she could tell, he had no more interest in her than he did in Florrie Parkhurst. Well, perhaps a little more, but not nearly enough.
She flounced a little in the church pew. She was sitting with her parents while the minister droned on as if anyone was actually interested in what he had to say.
Her eyes moved to Teresa O'Brien, sitting next to her guardian a few pews up. Teresa had spent the night at the Wheelers again, for the third Saturday in a row. Scott Lancer had danced twice with Susannah, just as he usually did, and then excused himself to go and talk to his brother and some of the other local ranchers. He and Johnny turned up to escort her and Teresa to her house at the end of the dance, but Scott wasn't interested in hanging back a little while Johnny and Teresa walked ahead. He had taken her to the front porch and bid her a polite goodnight. He hadn't even taken her hint that they sit on the porch swing for a while and enjoy the stars.
This was hardly worth the trouble of putting up with Teresa's foolish prattle. The stupid girl was smitten with Martin Ogden, of all people. He was a teller in her father's bank, and Susannah supposed he was good-looking enough if you liked sandy-haired, serious young men with square jaws, but he was still a bank teller.
She scowled. Today, she and her parents were going to drive out to Lancer for Sunday dinner, and this was Scott Lancer's last chance. If he didn't respond, Susannah was going to turn her attention to his younger brother.
At least she knew Johnny was definitely interested, although she suspected they didn't have the same results in mind. He hadn't approached her, any more than his brother had, but his eyes still sent a tingle through her, not like Scott's detached gaze.
Well, Johnny was a full partner in Lancer too, not a penniless bank teller. And he might be a lot more fun than his stuffy brother. Susannah wondered if she should bother to give Scott one more chance. He didn't deserve it, but he was a Harvard graduate and his grandfather was awfully rich, by all accounts.
She speculated on whether she would enjoy living in Boston. It was cold there, colder than Philadelphia, and she hadn't cared much for winter there. Of course, Boston society would be a lot more exciting than it was out here, but there might be something to be said for being a rich rancher's wife in sunny California. There might be quite a lot to say for life with a darkly handsome rancher who possessed a devilish smile and a cocky swagger that made her knees melt.
Maybe she had already given Scott enough of a chance. She considered it while the congregation rose to sing another hymn. She was smiling when they filed out of the church.
"Marty is coming to dinner too," Teresa whispered in the churchyard, after everyone shook hands with the minister. Her eyes were shining. She actually did look pretty, Susannah realized. And she was wearing another new dress.
"How nice." Susannah supposed Teresa couldn't really expect to do much better than a bank teller. The girl was an orphan, after all, practically a charity case.
"Ogden's a good man," Susannah's father said, overhearing them. "I don't mind telling you I expect that young man to go far. He puts me in mind of myself at that age, when I was just getting started in my first job and courting Mrs. Wheeler."
"It was a little different," Susannah pointed out. "Your father owned the bank."
Mr. Wheeler chuckled. "Yes, and that didn't make it easy, I can tell you. I think young Ogden's uncle has the right idea."
"What do you mean?" Susannah stared at her father.
"Marty's uncle is the president of the Bank of California. He thought it might be better if he learned the ropes somewhere else first."
She couldn't believe it. "Why didn't you say something about who he is?"
"That would defeat the whole purpose, wouldn't it?" her father said. "The idea was to let the boy make his own way. And he's done well, very well indeed."
Susannah couldn't breathe properly. That was the only reason she didn't scream.
***
The Lancer brothers didn't even show up at Sunday dinner, either of them. "They got in a fight last night at the saloon with the Everson boys," Teresa told Susannah, when the two girls went to her room to freshen up. She giggled. "Murdoch had to bail them out this morning, after church. He was furious. He said he was tempted to leave them in jail for thirty days, just to teach them a lesson."
"He didn't?" Susannah asked. If the rancher had disowned his sons, there was no point in pursuing either of them.
"No. Mostly, he just bellowed, but Johnny said that was just about the worst punishment he could think of for a man with a splitting headache."
"Where are they now?"
"Scott's in his room," Teresa said. "After he finished yelling, Murdoch hauled him over to the doctor's office, since he broke his wrist. Sam gave him something for the pain when he set the bone, and he'll probably sleep all day. Johnny said he was riding out to check on a bridge, but I expect he's found a shady place to get some sleep too. I don't think either of them is going to be too interested in food for a while. Johnny turned pea green when I offered to pack him some sandwiches."
Men, Susannah thought bitterly. She wasn't so sure that either of the Lancer brothers was husband material.
"Lucky thing they're leaving early in the morning," Teresa said. "Murdoch will cool off by the time the boys get home again."
"Where are they going?"
"Sacramento on the stage, to deliver some papers and look at some horses. They couldn't get away earlier, with roundup and all the other spring work. They won't be home for a few weeks, not until it's time to start haying."
"I see," Susannah said.
Teresa hesitated. "I need to tell you something. I won't be coming to any more of the dances in town. It was awfully good of you and your mother to invite me, and I thank you, but Marty is going home to San Francisco this week and I don't want to dance with anyone else just now."
Susannah's eyes narrowed. If Marty was going home this week, that didn't give her much time at all to charm him. Not enough time, considering how rude she had been to the young man.
"You're not really serious about him, are you?"
Teresa blushed. "Well, he asked Murdoch today for permission to court me. Of course, Murdoch says I'm too young to be thinking of marriage, and he won't even allow us to be engaged yet, but he did say it was all right if we exchange letters. And if we both feel the same way in two years, he'll allow me to be married when I'm twenty. By then, Marty expects he'll be earning enough so he can think about starting a family."
"Is he going to stay at my father's bank?"
"No, he's going home to take a position in his uncle's bank."
Susannah looked at her reflection in Teresa's mirror. As usual, the sight of her own face reassured her. More than one gentleman had told her it was perfect. A tendril of blond hair had escaped, and she tucked it in carefully.
"It certainly sounds as if you've done well for yourself," she said to Teresa.
"I can hardly believe it." Teresa sighed happily. "I really do think Marty is the one for me. And I owe it all to you."
Susannah looked in the mirror again. Perhaps she could persuade her mother to take her on a trip. Not San Francisco, not this time. Perhaps they should spend a month or so in St. Louis, where she had an aunt. There were plenty of rich men in St. Louis. If it didn't work out, she could make a play for Johnny when they returned. Actually, even if it did, she still might enjoy playing with Johnny Lancer. The idea brought a small smile to her face.
"It was nothing," she told Teresa. "Nothing at all. I couldn't possibly tell you how happy I am for you."
THE END
Whistle, January 2006