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  Jamie was incredulous. “You expect me to go into business with a man I’ve never met?”

  “No, we had a somewhat different partnership in mind.”

  “From the tone of your voice, I can tell I’m not going to like this. I suppose the son is just like the father?”

  James Treenery Senior took a cigar out of the humidor on his desk and calmly snipped the end off of it with a silver cigar cutter. “Actually, it isn’t his son we were proposing you go into partnership with. It’s his daughter, Alexis.”

  “His daughter—” Suddenly, Jamie understood exactly what his grandfather wanted, and white-hot anger exploded in his chest. “Marriage? Christ, I thought Deanne would have been enough to convince you I’m not husband material,” he said tightly.

  “Deanne died in a carriage accident,” James reminded him. “There was nothing wrong with your marriage.”

  “You’d naturally think that since you arranged it.”

  “At any rate, that’s ancient history and has no bearing on this.”

  Jamie thought he might choke on his anger. “It does to me, old man. I’ll be damned if I’ll marry again just to make you happy.”

  “My happiness isn’t involved,” his grandfather said. “It’s your mother I’m thinking of.”

  “I can take care of my mother without your help,” Jamie snapped.

  “Perhaps, but she’d have to give up all those luxuries she’s come to expect, not to mention the house you promised to buy. It means a lot to her, you know. She hasn’t had a place of her own since your father died.” The elder Treenery lit his cigar. “I know how much you sold your little business for. It wouldn’t even pay her allowance for a year.”

  “And you’d cut her off, just like that.”

  His grandfather shrugged. “You forget, she’s only my son’s widow—no kin of mine. Besides, I wouldn’t have to. All I’d need to do is tell her the truth, and she’d refuse to take another penny of my money. I’d do my best to convince her to stay, of course, and she’d leave thinking I was the most generous man alive.” He puffed on his cigar, then watched the smoke drift toward the ceiling. “Personally, I feel sorry for the poor woman. Her son has lied to her almost constantly for the last ten years.”

  “That’s blackmail!”

  “I prefer to think of it as hedging my bet.”

  “You can’t force me to marry Brady’s daughter.”

  “The wedding need not be right away. She’s still in mourning for her husband, though I doubt she’ll be wearing black for much longer.”

  “A widow? Hell, this keeps getting better and better. Is she old, or just ugly?”

  “Her name is Alexis Smythe,” James went on as though his grandson hadn’t spoken. “You’ll meet her at a party her father is giving tonight in your honor.”

  “You’re going to look pretty stupid when the guest of honor doesn’t show up,” Jamie snarled as he strode to the door.

  “Your mother is renting a small house near the Grand Hotel,” his grandfather called.

  “Good, I’ll stay there, too,” Jamie said and slammed the door behind him. He certainly wasn’t going to stay at the same hotel as his grandfather.

  “Damn it to hell,” Jamie muttered, stalking down the hall. His grandfather had him over a barrel, and they both knew it. A year from now he could have laughed in the old bastard’s face. By then he’d have enough money in the trust he’d set up for his mother. It would support her in style and was beyond his grandfather’s reach.

  One year, damn it. That’s all he needed. Jamie didn’t doubt for a moment his grandfather would carry out his threats. The man didn’t have a bit of interest in anybody or anything except money. There had to be some way to outsmart the old coot.

  And then he knew. All he had to do was convince his future bride she wanted no part of him. By the time he reached the street, Jamie was grinning. His years in the freight business had given him a repertoire of obnoxious habits guaranteed to send any delicately nurtured female running for cover. When he was done with Alexis Brady Smythe, she’d refuse to marry him if he were the last man on earth.

  “There,” Martha said, patting Angel’s last curl into place, “you could fool the devil himself.”

  “Good.” Angel smiled at her in the mirror. “Because I’m having dinner with him.”

  “That’s no way to talk about your father.”

  Angel chuckled. “How do you know I didn’t mean James Treenery?”

  “Humph. What I do know is you’d better stop this tom-foolery if you want everyone to believe you’re Alexis.”

  “Don’t worry, Martha, I’m doing things her way. If it had been left up to me, I wouldn’t have worn this dress.” She ran her hand over her green satin skirt. “I’d have dressed in her plainest black and gone down to supper too late for Father to do anything about it.”

  “Yes, and you’d have given yourself away immediately. Your sister would never openly defy your fath—” A knock at the door stopped her in mid-sentence.

  “Here we go,” Angel whispered and gave Martha a conspiratorial wink before answering. “Who is it?”

  “It’s just me, dear.” The door opened, and a tall, willowy blond woman swept in. “Are you about ready?” she asked in her clipped British accent.

  “Hello, Vanessa,” Angel greeted her stepmother and turned back to the mirror with a worried frown. “Do you really think it’s proper for me to be wearing this? I’m not out of mourning yet.”

  “Please don’t be difficult, Alexis. You know what your father said.”

  “Yes, I know, he wants me to make a good impression. Oh, Vanessa, the last thing I want to do is impress Jamie Treenery.”

  “You don’t even know him. He may be very nice. His mother certainly was when we met her the other day.”

  “But it’s not Beth Ann Treenery Father wants me to marry.”

  “No, of course not. Why ever would you think that?” Vanessa looked vaguely confused.

  Angel resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she rose from her seat at the dressing table and crossed the room to her stepmother. “Never mind. Unless my ears deceive me, our guests have arrived.”

  Vanessa listened for a moment, then nodded. “That does sound like a carriage pulling up in front. We’d better go.” She hesitated a moment, then touched Angel’s hand. “Alexis, I know you don’t want this, but you may find you like him very much.”

  “It won’t matter if I hate him; Father wants this marriage, and nothing will change his mind.”

  Vanessa looked troubled. “Your father loves you. He wouldn’t want you to be unhappy.” Her jaw hardened suddenly, making her look almost fierce. “If you find Mr. Treenery’s grandson intolerable, I promise you, I will speak to your father for you.”

  Much good that would do. Still, she couldn’t help but be touched; the image of her stepmother standing up to Richard Brady was laughable. Impulsively, Angel put her arms around Vanessa and kissed her cheek. “Have I ever told you how glad I am you married my father?”

  Vanessa blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Why, thank you. I’ve always thought I was very lucky to have you and Angelica.”

  It was Angel’s turn to be startled. “Both of us?”

  “Well, of course. You know how I feel about Angelica. If only she and your father weren’t so much alike. I swear, I could just shake the two of them.”

  “I think you just did,” Angel heard Martha mutter behind them. She smiled as she thought of the severe lecture Martha had delivered less than an hour ago on letting her unruly tongue give them away. Angel wasn’t the only one who was going to have to be careful.

  “I guess we’d better go. Our guests are waiting,” Angel said.

  She felt a sudden surge of nervous anticipation at seeing her father again after all these years. Richard Brady stood at the bottom of the stairs staring at the gold pocket watch in his hand. Angel swallowed a smile when he snapped it shut and put it in the watch pocket of his vest. Good, they wer
e late, and he hated to be kept waiting. Her father was still a handsome man, though the gleaming black hair was shot with silver, and he appeared to have put on a few pounds. Angel felt an unexpected wave of affection as he smiled up at them. For the first time in years, she remembered how much she’d loved him when she was a child and took the place of the son he’d wished for. He’d called her a chip off the old block, and they’d spent hours together as he taught her all about business. His autocratic meddling hadn’t mattered so much then. She hadn’t turned her back on him until she became a pawn in his machinations, and he began trying to control her adult life.

  “I’m sorry we’re late, Richard,” Vanessa said a trifle breathlessly when they arrived at the bottom of the staircase.

  He kissed her forehead. “It’s quite all right. You two lovely ladies were worth waiting for.” His gaze swept Angel from head to foot. “I’m glad to see you decided to wear the green dress after all. You look quite stunning. I’m sure young Treenery will be impressed.” He turned to a nearby servant and gave directions for dinner to be served in fifteen minutes.

  Angel glared at his back. How dare he order Alexis’s servant around as though this was his house? Her earlier affection was replaced by righteous burning anger. Richard Brady thought of his daughters as poker chips to be used on the bargaining table, nothing more.

  Oblivious to Angel’s displeasure, he took an arm of each woman and led them forward to meet the Treenerys, who were just entering the front door.

  Angel was less than gracious, but no one noticed as James Treenery gave a rather vague excuse as to why his grandson had been delayed. Rather than being insulted, Angel was grateful. Dinner with her father was going to be difficult enough.

  To her relief, Vanessa had seated her as far away from her father as possible. Instead, she was surrounded by Treenerys, with Beth Ann on her left and James on her right. She liked Alexis’s prospective mother-in-law immediately. The older woman seemed vaguely familiar, though Angel couldn’t figure out why. The elder James Treenery was another matter. Though he was not unattractive and was unfailingly polite, there was something about him that made her skin crawl. He reminded her of an eel, slippery and vicious. If his grandson were like him, Angel would move heaven and earth to keep him away from her sister.

  At last, the interminable meal was over, and they moved back to the entrance to welcome the ball guests. Duncan Smythe had spared no expense when he built his home. Although Cheyenne was a raw frontier town, he’d insisted on a ballroom, certain there would eventually be some sort of society here. And what society there was came in droves. Angel experienced a moment of sheer panic when it became obvious they were going to have a formal reception line. As the hostess, it would be her job to introduce all the guests to the Treenerys. A moment later, she was relieved to discover Richard Brady intended to usurp her position once more. There was no resentment at all as she stepped aside and let Vanessa take Alexis’s rightful place.

  Richard and Vanessa Brady welcomed everyone graciously, but Angel could tell James Treenery was far from impressed by the guests. She added snobbery to the long list of things she didn’t like about him. His grandson was probably worse; third generation money usually was.

  The guest of honor still hadn’t put in an appearance when it was time for the ball to begin, so Richard Brady did the honors with his daughter. The close proximity to her father made Angel nervous, but he didn’t appear to notice anything unusual.

  Angel never lacked for partners, and she thoroughly enjoyed herself, for she had always loved to dance. As midnight approached and the younger James Treenery still hadn’t appeared, she began to hope he wouldn’t. Not even Richard Brady could blame her for refusing to marry a man who had insulted her so. She was drinking a glass of champagne and chatting with a handsome young man when Vanessa suddenly appeared at her elbow.

  “Mr. Treenery’s grandson is finally here. Your father’s bringing him over right now,” Vanessa whispered. “Oh, Mr. Treenery. We’re so glad you could make it,” she said a second later in her breathless voice.

  This was it, the moment Angel had been waiting for all evening. So much depended on his first unfavorable impression of her. Angel took a deep breath and fixed a bored look on her face. With deliberate nonchalance, she turned and found herself staring right into the startled green eyes of Ox Bruford.

  Chapter 5

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Smythe,” Ox said in a strangled voice. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. Before Angel even had time to blink, he pulled her into his arms and swept her out onto the dance floor. What the hell is she doing here?

  “Well, well, this is certainly a surprise,” he said as the strains of a waltz surrounded them. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

  She gave him a blank look. “Mr. Treenery?”

  “Mr. Treenery?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “If we’re about to become betrothed, don’t you think you should call me Ox, at least when we’re alone?”

  “O…Ox?”

  “It’s always been good enough before. At the risk of repeating myself, what the hell is going on?”

  “P…Perhaps if you told me what you were referring to?” She sounded confused and possibly a little frightened.

  Ox frowned. “What I’m referring...how about how you managed to make my grandfather think you’re Alexis Smythe?”

  “I am Alexis Smythe.”

  “Oh hell!” A shaft of pain sliced through Ox’s chest and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “He followed me to South Pass City! What did he hire you to do?”

  “South Pass City? Oh, my goodness!” she gasped as though she had just put it all together. “You know my sister Angelica!”

  Ox blinked. “Your sister?”

  “She lives in South Pass City. We’re twins. Most people can’t tell us apart.”

  Ox stared down at the woman in disbelief. “She never told me she had a twin.”

  “It’s not something that comes up in casual conversation that often unless you’re close friends.”

  “Angel and I are close friends.”

  “Really? Then I wonder why she didn’t tell you.”

  “We didn’t discuss our families.” Ox admitted, scanning her face, looking for differences. There were a few. Her hair was a softer shade of red and her eyes more luminous. Still, it was hard to believe she was a completely different woman. “I can’t believe two people look so much alike.”

  She smiled. “We’re identical, you know, like a pair of bookends.”

  “Identical bookends,” he murmured. Now that he thought about it, this woman’s voice was more melodious and didn’t have Angel’s cynical edge. Nor did she appear as world-weary.

  The woman frowned. “Angel has told me a lot about her friends, but I don’t remember her mentioning anyone named Jamie.”

  “What about a mule-skinner named Ox Bruford?”

  Mrs. Smythe looked pensive for a moment. “As I remember, there was a freighter with a rather peculiar name... I think maybe it was Ox. Is that you?”

  “It’s the name I go by.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my middle name—sort of.” The corner of Ox’s mouth quirked as the music stopped and he led her off the floor. “Angel never questioned it. I didn’t know her real name either. When I discovered it by accident, she pretended it was someone else.”

  “I thought you were close friends.”

  “We were.” Ox shrugged. “Neither of us had need of a fancy name, and we didn’t pry into each other’s past.”

  “How...odd.” Alexis cocked her head to one side. “Isn’t the freighting business a rather unusual profession for a Yale graduate?”

  “Harvard. I see my grandfather’s been sharing all the family secrets again.” He grimaced. “My years at Harvard were a lifetime ago. I’ve come to view the world much differently since then.” He glanced around, looking for a
n unobtrusive place to spit. With the idea of being obnoxious in mind, he’d taken a healthy bite off a plug of tobacco before he came inside. Suddenly, his original plan of spitting on the floor no longer seemed like such a good idea.

  “Is anything the matter?” Alexis asked.

  “Uh...no. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Name your poison.”

  She gave him a bewildered look. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I meant, what would you like to drink?”

  “Oh, some punch, I think.”

  Ox handed Alexis a glass of punch from the refreshment table and led her to a pair of chairs near the wall. Angel would have known exactly what he was talking about. He glanced furtively toward his grandfather and Richard Brady, who were both standing near the door wearing self-satisfied expressions. His jaw hardened.

  Alexis followed the direction of his gaze and bit her lip when she saw the two men. “It might be best if you don’t tell my father you know Angel.”

  His eyebrows rose a fraction. “Why not?”

  “They had a fight years ago, and she ran away. He hasn’t spoken of her since.”

  Ox looked closely at her. It was hard to believe two people could look so much alike, and yet it was even more difficult to think of Angel, his closest friend, in cahoots with his grandfather.

  “Are you and Angel estranged too?” he asked.

  “Oh no, in fact, she moved to South Pass when my husband and I came to Cheyenne so we could be closer to each other.”

  “Why didn’t she just come to Cheyenne?”

  Alexis looked perplexed. “You know, I’m not sure. She said it had to do with her business, but I’m certain she could have done as well here.”

  “Maybe she thought there was more money to be made in South Pass City. Then again, it might have something to do with what she does for a living.”

  “A living?”

  “Her job. You know, the work she does.”

  “Angel owns a business of some sort, but I don’t think she actually works.”