“You’re a city boy at heart.”
“I freely admit it, yes. My life would be complete if Father had left me a paltry million or two. I could spend the rest of my days doing what I love best. But he hated me as much as he hated the rest and he refused my request.” Charles glanced back. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I shouldn’t leave my partner alone too long. He hates the wilds as much as I do.” Reining around, Charles rode back down the line.
As Fargo understood the rules, each of them was allowed to have one person help them in the hunt. Samantha had sent for him. Charles had picked a friend from his club. Charlotte chose a female cousin about her age. Emmett had a friend from town. Tom’s partner was a sullen, hulking backwoodsman. Roland was the only one who intended to hunt alone.
Hooves drummed again, and Samantha took Charles’s place at Fargo’s side. “What were the two of you talking about just now?”
“How much your brother loves the outdoors.”
Samantha was wearing a blue riding habit with buttons up the front and a full skirt. The jacket had white at the collar and white at the ends of the sleeves. She had put her hair up in back, and her top hat was tipped forward. She also wore doeskin gloves and had a riding crop in her left hand. “Charles has disliked nature ever since he was seven and he was bitten by a garter snake.”
“That outfit fits you real nice.”
“Don’t start. I rebuffed your advances yesterday and I will rebuff them today.” Samantha smiled thinly. “I’m well aware of your reputation, Mr. Fargo. It’s claimed that you have bedded more women than Casanova.”
“Who?”
“A great lover. It is alleged that he made love to over a thousand in his lifetime.”
“That’s all?”
For the first time since Fargo met her, Samantha Clyborn laughed. “Humility is not one of your traits, I see. But I must admit there are moments when you amuse me.”
Fargo leaned toward her and raked her body with a hungry stare that left no doubt as to his meaning when he said, “I can do a lot more than that.”
“Honestly.” Samantha shook her head. “You never give up, do you? What will it take to get it through your head that I’m not the least bit interested?”
“I know better.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. If I have refused myself male companionship all these years, why would I possibly indulge in a dalliance with you, of all people?”
“Because there are no strings attached,” Fargo answered truthfully. “We do it and that’s it. You’ll never see me again after this weekend is over and I’ll never tell a soul you indulged.”
“That’s hardly sufficient cause. Can’t you think of anything better?” she mockingly asked.
“I can think of one thing.”
“What would that be?”
“The feeling you get when you gush.”
Samantha jerked her head back as if he had slapped her. “I daresay you are the most brazen man I’ve ever met. You have no respect for a lady.”
“I have plenty of respect,” Fargo disagreed. “I also know something about ladies that most men don’t.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“A lady will part her legs just like any other woman if she is interested enough.”
“I should slap you.”
“I’d slap you back.”
Samantha’s eyes blazed with anger. “You’re the most aggravating man I’ve ever met and that includes my father.” Reining sharply around, she jabbed her heels.
Fargo chuckled. He had planted the seed. Now all he could do was wait and see if it took root. On a whim he jabbed his own heels and rode to the head of the line. “Mind some company?”
Roland was in the lead. He wore the same tweed hunting garb as the day before, and in addition to the stag-hilted hunting knife he had a Smith and Wesson revolver on his other hip. “Not at all. Out of all of them, you’re the only one I have anything in common with.”
“I wanted to ask. Why didn’t you pick a partner like the rest?”
“No need,” Roland said. “I’ve hunted every square foot of this forest. An exaggeration, perhaps, but not by much. Whatever we’re to hunt down, I’m confident I’ll win the inheritance.”
“No one knows what it is?”
Roland shook his head. “It’s a condition of the will. Pickleman is to read the clause that explains everything this evening after supper. All we know is that my father called it a hunt.”
Fargo was surprised by what he said next.
“I’d never admit this to my brothers or sisters, but the reason I’ve spent so much time in the woods was to get away from my father and to get away from them. Father, with his carping and his insults. My siblings, with their never-ending bickering. It got so, I spent more of my time at the hunting lodge than I did at the mansion.”
“You like killing game?” Fargo had met some who lived for the thrill of the chase and the blood of the shot.
“I don’t kill just to kill, if that’s what you’re getting at. I hunt for food. That might sound silly given how well-off we are but I’d rather eat venison than beef any day, and the butcher doesn’t carry bear meat.”
“What will you do if you end up with all your father’s money?”
“Give shares to my brothers and sisters. It’s only right, the hell we’ve endured. The rest I’ll sock away in a bank and live pretty much as I have been all these years. I don’t care about controlling everyone, like Sam does. Or only wearing the best clothes and being a member of the most expensive men’s club in Hannibal, as Charles does. To me the forest has always been enough.”
Fargo decided he liked this man. “I hope you win.”
Roland shifted and gazed down the line. “Don’t let Sam hear you say that or she’s liable to take her riding crop to your head.” He grinned as he said it but he was serious.
“Everyone keeps saying how mean she is but I’ve yet to see it,” Fargo mentioned.
“It’s not that she’s mean so much as she is controlling. She loves being in charge, and woe to anyone who bucks her.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“No doubt you can in the mountains and on the prairie. But this is Missouri, and Sam is a power to be reckoned with. If she wanted, she could have you arrested and the key thrown away.”
“On what charge?” Fargo skeptically asked.
“Take your pick. Right now you’re in her good graces but whatever you do don’t cross her.”
On that dire note Fargo fell back in line. He kept to himself for the next couple of hours. The humidity got to him but for the most part he enjoyed the Missouri woods as much as he would any other.
In addition to bear and deer, Missouri was home to elk and—or so he had heard—a few moose. The streams and rivers were favorite haunts of beaver and muskrat while wood-chucks were the bane of many a farmer. Smaller game like rabbits, foxes, and raccoons were everywhere. The day sky was ruled by eagles and hawks, the night sky by owls and bats. Catfish and carp were fished out of deep pools while bass thrived in the ponds and lakes and trout ran the swifter waterways.
Fargo could see why Roland liked it here so much. There was plenty of animal sign for those who knew how to read it.
Their little caravan stopped about midmorning to rest the horses. Roland called a halt in a clearing and Fargo dismounted to stretch his legs. He had taken only a few steps when a petite bundle of winsome legs and young innocence imitated his shadow.
“Can we talk, Mr. Fargo?” Charlotte asked.
“I’m right popular today.”
“It’s about my sister.”
“What about her?” Fargo figured either Samantha had told her of his remarks about ladies spreading their legs or Samantha was having second thoughts about hiring him.