Hunter's Moon (Hunter Family Saga; Half-Moon Ranch 1) (20 page)

Rage filled Brent at the sight. It took all his selfcontrol not to drag his father outside and throw him
into one of the watering troughs to sober him up.

"Brent?" Abby said in a low voice, appearing from
her room down the hall.

"I'm here. I was wondering why you'd gone to
bed so early, and now I know. Has he been in the
chair all night?"

"After you left, he got his bottle and kept
drinking. I tried to talk to him, but there was no use.
I gave up and went to my room. I wasn't sleepy, but
I couldn't stand to be around him anymore." She
looked over at their father. "Should we try to get
him into his bed?"

"Hell, no," Brent ground out. "Let him sleep
right there. If he falls out of-the chair in the middle
of the night, he's got no one to blame but himself."

She nodded in understanding as she stared sadly
at her father. She looked at Brent and asked,
"Everything went all right on your trip into town?"

"I stayed on at the boardinghouse talking to
Crystal for a while," he told her casually, not
revealing just how wonderful their visit had really
been.

"You are going to see her again, aren't you? She's
different from the other women in town."

"You're right. Crystal is different. I care about
her, and I do plan to see more of her."

She glanced at their father once again. "Brent..."

"What?"

"I'm sorry about Papa. I know how upsetting it is
for you to see him this way."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about,"
Brent reassured her. "Pa's the one who made the
decision to start drinking again."

"Are our troubles ever going to end?"

"Don't worry," Brent assured her. "I'll take care of
things. I always have."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know yet, but I'm going to have a serious
talk with him in the morning. We've got to get a few
things settled between us."

He sat alone in his darkened hotel room. Fury ate at
him. He had been close to catching Crystal in San
Antonio-so close-and yet she had eluded him
again.

Crystal was still out there somewhere. She hadn't
just vanished. He would find her. And when he did,
she would pay.

Brent went to bed hoping to dream of Crystal, but
the visions that came to him in his sleep that night
were tortured, not loving. In his nightmare he saw
his father standing over his mother's dead body,
holding the gun in his hand. The memory was
powerful and painful, and Brent came awake with a
violent start. He sat up in bed and stared around
himself in the dark, trying to erase the vision of that
hellish time from his mind.

After a while he lay back down, but peace did
not come to him. He was beginning to wonder
if it ever would, living in the same house with
his father this way.

Brent was still awake and still tired when dawn
finally began to brighten the eastern sky. His mood
was tense as he got up and dressed. He wasn't look ing forward to the confrontation with his father to
come, but he had to do it. He had to speak his
mind. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he
didn't.

Brent left his bedroom, ready for whatever the
new day would bring.

When Jack awoke, his head was pounding, and the
light pouring in through the window beside him
only magnified the pain. He quickly closed his
eyes again and groaned in pure torture. He
reached out and groped around the desktop,
trying to grab his bottle. If there was one thing he
needed, it was another stiff drink to make the pain
go away.

"We have to talk." Brent's voice alerted him to his
son's presence.

Jack was in no mood for conversation. An image
of Beth haunted him, and he had to make it go
away.

"Where the hell is my..." He barely opened one
eye as he tried to locate the whiskey.

"I said, we have to talk," Brent repeated as he
stood facing his father, holding the bottle of whiskey
out for him to see.

"About what?" Jack said in a snarl. The
pounding pain in his head was so severe he could
barely think, and Brent's arrogance infuriated
him even more.

"I think you know," he answered.

"No, I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" Jack
said with a sneer.

"I told you on your first day back here that I don't
allow liquor on the ranch."

n

"So look at yourself." Brent was disgusted with
him.

Jack got to his feet and glared at him. "Give me
that bottle!"

Brent's anger flared even hotter. Without a word
he stalked to the front door, opened it, and threw
the bottle out of the house.

Jack ran outside, desperate to get his bottle back.
He picked it up, ready for a drink, but the bottle had
cracked when it hit the ground and what whiskey
was left had drained out.

"You arrogant bastard!" Jack snarled, throwing the
bottle back down in disgust. "Who the hell do you
think you are?"

"I know who I am," Brent answered seriously.
"I'm the one who provided for the family and saved
the Half-Moon while you were sitting in prison for
the last ten years!"

"This ranch is mine," Jack declared, resentment
filling him. "What I say goes on the Half-Moon!"

He turned and started to walk away from
Brent."

"Don't you turn your back on me, you son of a
bitch!" Brent ordered. He had had all he could
stand. "Do you think you can come back here to the Half-Moon and just take over like nothing ever
happened?"

"You're damned right I can!" Jack countered
hotly. "And if you don't like it here, you can leave!"

"You know what? Maybe you're right!" he
exclaimed. "Maybe I should go. Maybe I should just
up and leave, and let you try to figure out how to
run this place all by yourselfl"

"Maybe you should!" Jack snapped, beyond
fury.

"Well, Jack, if Brent goes"-it was Hank's voice,
surprising them both-"I go." The ranch hands had
seen the whiskey bottle come flying out the door and
had heard the sound of their argument, and had
come up to the house to see what was going on.

"Me, too," another one of the hands added. They
were solidly behind Brent, whom they respected and
trusted.

"Well, then, maybe I should be the one to go,"
Jack said sarcastically.

"Maybe you should," Brent said bluntly. He
turned around and went back into the house, furious
over the whole confrontation.

Jack looked around at the hands standing there
staring at him. He was the one who had hired them
years ago. Hell, he had hired Hank when he'd been
barely more than a boy, and now he and the others
were pledging their allegiance to Brent.

Jack's worst nightmares about returning home
were coming true. Without another word he walked away. He went to the stable and looked for the
fastest horse he could find. He needed to ride.

Crystal had lain awake long into the night, reliving
in her mind the wonder of loving Brent. The fact
that he'd proposed to her left her heart aching.

She had tossed and turned, trying to convince
herself there was some way they could be married.
Being his wife would be pure ecstasy for her.

But it wasn't possible.

The truth about her past was too ugly, and she
loved him too much to involve him any more deeply
in her troubled and dangerous life.

She would enjoy what time they could share
together while she was in Diablo as Ruby, and then
she would disappear when danger neared, just as
she'd disappeared from San Antonio.

It had been long after midnight when Crystal
finally managed to fall asleep. Her sleep wasn't
restful, though, and she awoke early. She got
cleaned up and went downstairs to join Anne for
breakfast.

"Well, good morning," Anne said as she came
into the kitchen. "It's nice to see you up and about
so early. How was your visit with the Hunters?"

"I had a wonderful time. The ranch is beautiful.
We went riding, and I got to see a lot of the
countryside."

"Everyone in town thinks Brent has done a fine
job of saving the place after all the ugliness that went on. You know about all the Hunter family
trouble, don't you?"

"Yes, Brent told me."

"It was quite a scandal at the time. I mean, think
about how horrible it would be to find out that your
father had killed your mother! Your Brent's had a
tough time of it on his own these past years, and
now Jack is back."

"But Jack seemed nice enough," Crystal offered.

"Oh, he seemed nice enough back then, too.
Which just goes to show you how good some people
are at hiding the truth about themselves."

"I see," Crystal said noncommittally, but feeling
guilty for the secrets she herself was trying to hide.

"I still feel sorry for Brent and Abby, even after all
this time. It can't be easy for them, seeing their
father every day now and knowing what he did."

"Brent told me he killed their mother, but he
didn't say why."

"No one knows," Anne answered. "Jack confessed
to the crime and went to prison. If you ask me, I
don't think a ten-year sentence for murder is long
enough. A murderer should have to stay in prison
forever-if he doesn't hang!"

Crystal was sickened by her words. "He did his
time. Maybe he's changed."

"We'll-see. Time will tell."

Crystal was glad when Anne finally changed the
subject. She ate her breakfast and returned to her
room, needing some peace.

It was later that morning when Crystal decided to
go to the Diablo General Store.

"Good morning, young lady," said Mr. Spindle,
the owner. "What can I do for you today?"

"I'm looking for some dress material," she told
him.

"It's right there in back. If you need any help, just
let me know."

"Thank you. I will," Crystal said, making her way
to the back of the shop.

It happened that Melinda Barton was also in the
store, getting a few things for her mother. When she
heard Mr. Spindle greet another customer, she
glanced up to see who'd come in and was outraged
at the sight of Ruby. Jealousy jarred her. She had
made some inquiries about the other woman after
Brent had gone off with her yesterday, and what
she'd learned had shocked her.

Ruby was nothing more than a common dancehall slut!

Melinda refused to give credence to the good
things she'd been told about the singer. In Melinda's
opinion, anyone who worked at the Lone Star
Saloon was not worthy of a place in polite society.

And yet Brent had invited her to the ranch! And
now here she was in the general store, acting as if she
were normal folk.

Melinda knew better. Her jealousy and anger ate
at her. Determined to put this Ruby in her place, she
leisurely made her way to the back of the store, where the other woman was busy looking at
material.

"Planning on making a new dress for your work at
the Lone Star?" Melinda asked sarcastically as she
came down the aisle.

Crystal looked up, surprised to see it was the girl
she'd met at church. "Why, hello. You're Melinda,
aren't you?"

"That's right. Did you have a good time out at
the Half-Moon yesterday?"

Crystal was a little surprised by the question. "Yes.
It was good to see the place, since Brent had told me
so much about it."

"And since Brent told you about the Half-Moon,
I suppose he also told you about us-didn't he?"
Melinda asked with false-sweetness.

"No. Was he supposed to?"

"I thought he might have mentioned to you that
we're almost engaged," she declared.

Crystal had dealt with enough conniving women
in her life to recognize one of them on sight, and she
knew Brent well enough to know that if he were
engaged to any woman, he would be faithful.

"That's strange," Crystal answered. "He didn't say
a word to me about being engaged to you. If that's
true, I wonder why he wanted to spend the day with
me?"

"I had other plans yesterday. I guess he was
bored-and desperate," she remarked snidely.

Crystal smiled coldly at her. "Somehow I can't see Brent Hunter ever being desperate for anythingleast of all for female companionship."

"Well, sometimes a man has other needs, you
know. The baser kind of needs that only a saloon girl
can provide for."

Crystal was taken aback by Melinda's malice, but
was a good enough actress not to reveal it. "You
mean like making him laugh and enjoy life a little
bit? We certainly did that. It's a pity you weren't
able to go. Maybe the next time you will."

"Yes, maybe next time. Oh, and by the way, if
you are looking for the black silk or the red satin,
they're another aisle over." Melinda was seething as
she turned and walked away. She thought Ruby
nothing but a common slut, and she was furious that
Brent had spent any time with her.

Crystal reacted coolly, but in truth, inwardly she
was deeply shaken. Was what Melinda had said true?
Did everyone consider her a slut just because she was
a singer who performed in saloons? She'd always
made it plain when she hired on that she was a lady
and did not sell herself. But now her emotions were
in turmoil.