Wind Of Promise Part 20

"Overjoyed," he said dryly, and shouldered past her into the parlor.

"I heard in town that you were back. Are you opening this place?" She closed the parlor doors and turned to look at him. "Have you been sick? You've lost weight."

"Get to it, Della. You don't give a d.a.m.n if I've been sick. You want to know if I lost all my money in the crash. I lost some but not all." Kain looked at his sister's beautiful face and felt not a trace of affection for this woman who was born of the same parents as he. He would be d.a.m.ned if he'd let her know that this place and a few dollars were all he had salvaged from the crash.

"You don't have to be so defensive, brother dear. I thought if you needed money I'd take The House off your hands. I've had it in the back of my mind for a long time to reopen it. I've got places in Denver and one in Greeley. Papa wouldn't care if I had one here as long as I didn't run it myself. I've done very well, Kain."

"I know. You're a very rich wh.o.r.e."

"My, my! What a nasty word. Don't tell me you've never used the services of a wh.o.r.e, brother."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't make it any easier knowing my sister's one."

Della laughed, the musical sound reaching the upper floor where Vanessa stood clutching the wet cloth.

"I'm good, Kain. I've f.u.c.ked royalty and they said they'd never had better."

"Say what you came to say and get out, Della."

"Do you want to sell this place?"

"It's not for sale."

Della shrugged. "How long are you staying, Kain? And who is the grubby-looking redhead?"

"How long I'm staying is no concern of yours, or your dear papa's. And the redhead, grubby or not, is far more a lady than you'll ever be."

"Come now! What's a lady but a female with a slit between her legs? We've all got a t.w.a.t under our clothes. Without it you men wouldn't give us a second look. Is she better on her back, Kain, or her knees?" Another tinkling laugh followed the question. "If she's good I may be able to use her. Her hair is different, but I can't say much for the rest of her."

Kain gazed at his sister. She looked like a porcelain doll. He thought about the night he'd walked into a saloon in Denver and saw a beautiful naked woman dancing on a table. He hadn't realized it was his sister until she took off her mask just before she slipped behind a curtain. He thought of how she had tried to have Logan Horn hanged for rape after he had refused her advances, and the rumors that she had been old Clayhill's mistress for years. He wondered how anyone so beautiful could be so rotten. He went to the door and opened it.

"Good-bye, Della."

"So you're opening The House. Well! If you plan to use the redhead, my advice is to clean her up a bit. She smelled like a wet goat! And although she'd only be servicing drovers and drifters, even they likea""

Kain slammed the door. "Shut up! You don't have a decent bone in your body."

"Decent? What's decent? Does it make you feel good? Does it put money in your pocket?"

"Why don't you get the h.e.l.l out of here?"

"Does Papa know you're back?"

"I suppose he does. The old son of a b.i.t.c.h knows everything that goes on in the territory."

"Are you going out to see him?"

"Why in h.e.l.l would I do that? You know I despise his guts."

"Papa isn't well. Joseph said he had a sinking spell one day. I'm staying to take care of him."

"Don't give me that line of bulls.h.i.+t, Della. You're staying to be sure you get his money when he dies."

"Of course. I didn't screw that old b.a.s.t.a.r.d for nothing!" Della opened the door and stepped out into the hall. "This place is ideally suited for what it was built for. It's drab, but that could be fixed in a hurry. If you need any help in training your girls, Kain, let me know. Or would you rather do that yourself?" She made sure her lilting voice carried, glanced over her shoulder to the stairway and laughed.

Kain could hear Ellie's voice in the kitchen. He opened the door, took Della firmly by the elbow, and pushed her out of the house.

"Get out of here, Della, and don't come back."

"You'd better not lay a hand on me, even if you are my brother. Papa's men might shoot you. He pays them well to protect his little girl."

"His own private wh.o.r.e, you mean. I'm glad Ma never knew what you turned out to be."

"Oh, she knows. She's probably up there clucking her tongue and saying, *Don't be a naughty girl, Della. It's naughty to f.u.c.k your steppapa.'" Della went down the walk laughing, turned and called, "Bye, darling. If you want to see me you know where to find me."

Kain watched the servant help her on with the dust coat, then place a small stool on the ground so she could step up into the landau. She waved a white handkerchief as the buggy, followed by the outriders, pulled away from the gate. Kain stood on the steps for several minutes trying to rid himself of the feeling that he'd been surrounded by something dirty.

At the window of the ranch house, Adam Clayhill watched his stepdaughter alight from the landau with all the grace of a queen. A smile hovered on his lips beneath the neatly trimmed white mustache. She was something to see. She could fit herself into any society. On the outside she was every inch a lady, but the truth was she was every inch a wh.o.r.e. She had been a lanky ten-year-old when he had married her mother. Even then she had liked to sit on his lap and wiggle until she had him worked up. She was a born courtesan, and even then had known instinctively what to do. Four or five years ago they had become lovers; she was the best he'd ever had. Then, after the business with the Indian, Logan Horn, she had gone to Denver and become quite a businesswoman. Over the past several years she had come back to the ranch often; this time she'd been here several weeks. He chuckled. Della intended to be here when the money was counted. By G.o.d! She was more of an offshoot of his then either of the two known b.a.s.t.a.r.ds he had sired.

Yes, he thought gleefully, Della was thinking he was about to cash in his chips. He looked at his reflection in the s.h.i.+ny gla.s.s window pane. He was still a handsome, robust man. His hair was thick and white, his carriage erect. It would take more than one sinking spell to do him in, but if Della thought so, let her if it would keep her here. He was vigorous despite his years. Cecilia, his little Mexican wh.o.r.e, could still get a rise out of him. So far Della hadn't come to his bed, but he knew her strategy was to let him wait. He chuckled again and went to the door to let her in.

"h.e.l.lo, Papa Adam. How are you feeling?" Della took the pins from her hat and handed it to the silent Mexican girl who stood waiting. She took off her coat and hung it carefully on the halltree.

"Fine. I've been waiting for you. Dinner is ready."

"You're sweet." She kissed his cheek.

"Who did you see in town?" he asked when they were seated at one end of the long table and the Negro servant had gone back to the kitchen.

"There's nothing in town half as handsome as what's here on this ranch." She smiled, reached across to caress his arm with her fingertips, her eyes lingering on his mouth.

"I could've told you that."

"You are a conceited old b.a.s.t.a.r.d, aren't you?" She laughed. "Mr. McCloud said he's holding a letter for an Adam Hill. He wondered if it could be for you."

"Where was it from?"

"Springfield, Missouri."

"It couldn't be for me. I don't know anyone in Missouri."

"Kain is back."

"I heard that this morning."

"You do have your network of spies, don't you, Adam? Did they tell you he's at The House? I stopped there to see him. He's been sick, or hurt. More than likely some jealous husband shot him. He was walking slow and carefully."

"Did you hear any news about Cooper or the . . . Indian?" It was still hard for Adam to speak of Logan Horn.

"I heard Mr. McCloud at the store telling someone that Cooper's little boy had been sick and that his mother, Mrs. Henderson, had been out at the ranch. I guess he's all right now. Your former . . . ah, mistress has gone back to Morning Sun to be with her husband. Is it true that you had some men break his legs a few years ago thinking it would make Sylvia pressure Cooper to come work for you?"

"Humph!"

Della ignored the scowl on his face and continued talking.

"Your grandson looks like his mother, Adam. Lorna Parnell is a wild, dark-haired, mountain-bred b.i.t.c.h! She goes into town in britches with a bullwhip over her shoulder. I'll swear, it amazes me that Cooper lets her do it. Everyone knows he's a Clayhill. It reflects badly on all of us."

"Everyone knows you're a wh.o.r.e, too, sweeting, but that doesn't seem to hurt my standing in Denver one bit."

"No. Because if one bad word about you reaches my ears, I could more than likely ruin whoever said it. And I would, too, Papa. I have a little book tucked away with a lot of valuable information in it."

Adam basked in her affectionate smiles. "What a team we would have made if we'd met when I was young."

"You're not old darling! I refuse to let you say you're old."

"Did you hear anything about that Griffin fellow down on the Blue?"

"No. He's Kain's friend, isn't he? He and Kain killed those two bullies you had working for you a year or so ago. What was the name of that redheaded man? Dunbar? If they hadn't killed them, folks would have strung them up when they found out they had horsewhipped a woman. You don't get away with that in this country. I never did find out what they had against Lorna Parnell."

"That son of a b.i.t.c.hin' Dunbar. He bungled the job, or I'd be owning that place on the Blue. Cooper's got a hand in it, too. The stiff-necked son of a b.i.t.c.h. He'll not get an inch of this land, by Gaw!"

That was just fine with her, Della thought, then said aloud, "Oh, yes. I saw the Indian's squaw in town with the teacher they've hired to run the school at the ranch. She was dressed fit to kill, but everyone that's anyone refused to have anything to do with her. She's pregnant again. Does this make three? Good G.o.d, Papa! You're going to have descendants all over the territory." Della couldn't resist bringing up a subject that was sure to rile him.

"Hush that stupid twaddle! That red a.s.s and his mites are no kin of mine."

"That red a.s.s is your sona"there's no way you can deny it, Adam darling. He's got your crooked finger, so has his boy." Della kissed her fingertips and laid them against Adam's mouth. "But, don't get all worked up about it now. Save all that delicious anger for later."

Adam asked about Kain as they walked arm in arm to his office after the meal.

"He's got some women there cleaning up the place as if he were going to open it. If he does I'm sure he'll have someone run it for him. He won't stay around long. Junction City is too dull for my world-traveled brother."

"Hmm . . . hmm . . ."

"What do you mean by hmm . . . hmm? It sounds as if you had something on your mind." Della drew back the velvet drapes that hung over the door and they entered the office.

"Kain turned out to be a good mana""

"There's no such thing as a good man!"

"You said I was," Adam replied with a grin.

"As a lover you're . . . wonderful. As a man you're rotten! That's why I love you so much." Della had studied men all her life. She knew just how to stroke their egos. She watched the pleased expression settle on Adam's face.

"I could use a man like Kain."

"You'd not be able to manage him, Papa," she cautioned. "He's stubborn, and so very self-righteous. He's like Mama a"all wrapped up in right and wrong. I'm like my Papa. He knew what he wanted and went to any length to get it. That's how he ama.s.sed a fortune."

"And left it to your brother."

"Yes, left it to my brother, and he lost a lot of it when the New York Stock Market crashed this year."

"Then he might be reasonable about an offer from me." Adam had sat down in the big leather chair, and now he pulled Della down on his lap. He opened her dress immediately and pressed his face between her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "There's a smell to you, girl, that's different from that of any woman I've ever known."

Della fumed inwardly. He hadn't paid a bit of attention to what she had said about Kain.

"It's the expensive perfume from France."

"It's more than that. It's h.e.l.lfire and brimstone. You're hot for a man and you smell like it." Laughing huskily, he slipped his hand up under her skirt and felt his way up her bare thighs to the dampness that he knew he'd find. He chuckled again with pure pleasure. "I'm glad you're not one of them women who wears drawers. Open your legs, girl."

Della let her arms circle his neck. He had been a good lover in his day. But now the skin on his chest was beginning to sag and his middle thicken. He was still an attractive man and would stand out in any crowd with that magnificent head of white hair and the way he carried himself. Adam Clayhill was born to give orders, not take them. But he was still only a man, Della mused, with the majority of his brains in that piece of flesh that hung between his legs.

"You're my h.o.r.n.y stud, Papa Adam," she whispered, and her tongue poked moistly into his ear. What he was doing was pleasant, she admitted moments later. s.e.x of any kind was a necessary part of her life. But as badly as she wanted it now, she'd make him wait a little longer before she would let him have it all. Before she was through she would make him desperate for her, make sure she was like life's blood to him. The strong cantharides she had brought from the Middle East would help. Once she took him she would have to work on him everyday. She would drive him crazy with what she'd do to him. Kain wasn't going to come waltzing in here and share in her inheritance. Clayhill Ranch was the largest holding in the northern territory and she meant to have it all.

Adam was still a l.u.s.ty man, she reasoned, even if some of the l.u.s.t was in his head and not in his pants. She had something Kain didn't have and she'd use it, by G.o.d; she'd use it to get what she wanted. She opened her legs to his seeking fingers, wound her arms about his neck, and pressed his face between the soft mounds of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Cecilia might poison me for stealing this from her," she murmured in his ear as her hand slid slowly down his chest and her fingers delved between them to find firm flesh that took longer now to harden than it had just months before.

"I . . . got enough for both of you," he panted and bit her nipple roughly. His lovemaking had become almost painful of late because he was so desperate to reach fulfillment.

Della smiled down on his bent head. She didn't mind the pain at all. She squeezed his hand between her thighs. The old man, she thought, had nothing! But if he wanted to think he did. . . .

"Ahh . . . Papa Adam, you know just what to do. I love that. You know I love it, but I want more, much more. I want this big thing . . ." She gripped him hard. "I want it, but we can't now. I'll ruin my dress."

"To h.e.l.l with your dress," he growled. "Take it off!"

"It'll take too long to undo all these b.u.t.tons, and then I'll be out of the mood. Come to me tonight. We'll do everything we've done before and more. I'll show you something a Turkish sultan taught me to do."

"Now! You hot little b.i.t.c.h! You want it as much as I do. Don't you put me off again, hear?" he shouted. "You do and I'll beat your a.s.s!" He pulled his hand from between her legs and grasped her arm to hold her.

"Don't yell so loud," she cautioned. She slid from his lap, jerked free from his hands and stood back. Her dress was open and her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s exposed, but she made no attempt to cover them. "The servants will heara""

"Screw the black sons of b.i.t.c.hes! You don't give a gawd.a.m.n about the servants you f.u.c.kin' little tease!" He sat up in the chair, yanked off his belt, and worked at the b.u.t.tons on his britches. "Get over here you little s.l.u.t, and finish what you started." His face was florid, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead.

Go ahead, old fool, Della thought. Have a heart attack. If she thought it would help she'd screw him to death, but it would just be her luck that he'd thrive on it.

"You're not so bad off, darling." She reached down and stroked the hardness he was trying to release, letting her breast brush his face. "You can hold it for awhile . . . it'll make it better."

"Better, h.e.l.l! Gawdd.a.m.n you!" he snarled. "I want it now! Are you playing the wh.o.r.e, Della? Are you wantin' me to pay first?"

"Well! If that's how you're going to talk." She sniffed daintily. "I thought there was something . . . special between us."

"Special my a.s.s!" he shouted.

"I love you. You know thata""

"All you love is money and a thick p.r.i.c.k!"