Renner Morgan (16 page)
“So you’re okay with your gentryman going to one of your slammers?” Caleb ignored the shocked gasps of his brothers and their mates as he focused his full attention on McBride. “Especially after you fucked him?”
No one made a sound as all gazes turned toward McBride.
“I didn’t fuck Quintus.”
“You told me you did.”
“I know. I lied. I wanted to clear the air tonight, but not quite like this.” McBride took his napkin out of his lap and settled it by his plate. “However, my future mate seems impatient.”
“Future mate?” Caleb looked up and down the table as if hunting for which man McBride was talking about.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You.” McBride cleared his throat. “I spent all day thinking of how to tell you, but I just couldn’t find the right words. I told you that I had claimed Quintus because I thought if I did, the world would go back to the way it was. I was determined to cling to the old ways no matter how much I didn’t want to. I made a dozen mistakes with you, Caleb. The worst is that I lied to you in an effort to push you away because I thought that would be the best thing for you and me. But now I know I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”
Caleb sat very still, almost like he was afraid to move and perhaps break the spell.
“Even if the world was turned back to rights, and I had my choice of a thousand men, I would still pick you, Caleb. I love you.”
Dead silence followed his announcement. Every man’s gaze went from McBride to Caleb and back a few times.
“Say something.” Bailey shoved Caleb’s arm, shaking him out of his daze.
“I don’t know what to say.” Caleb reached for his wine but pulled his hand back without touching it. When Bailey passed him the dish of food, he passed it without taking any or even looking at it. Caleb couldn’t seem to stop staring at McBride. “Why in the world would you do this in front of everyone?”
“Because it’s the honorable thing to do. I’m sick of lying and pretending to be something or someone I’m not. I was the sheriff, but I’m not anymore. And in this world, class doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, it matters.” This time, Caleb grasped his wine and drank the entire glass in three swallows.
“Not to me.”
“It does to me.”
McBride thought his heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. What made his humiliation worse was that it was being witnessed by everyone on the farm. But he didn’t blame Caleb for that. It was his decision to do this in a public forum, so he had only himself to blame. Rather than stay and make everyone else uncomfortable, he thought he would go and lick his wounds in private. As he stood, pain ripped through his head. He gripped the table with both hands, struggling not to fall. The last thing he needed right now was to look even more pathetic than he felt.
To add to his physical pain, the butler hurried into the room. “The valet says there are men coming up the long drive.”
Not that there would be a good time for an invasion, but this was easily the worst possible moment. Everyone was in fancy, constricting clothing, and McBride was slowly sinking into unconsciousness.
“Your nose is bleeding.” Caleb was on his feet and by McBride’s side so fast it was a little scary. “The pain has come back, hasn’t it?”
“Get everyone a gun. We’ll—”
Caleb turned to the butler. “Are they the same men from the other day?”
The butler communicated silently with the valet. “He says he sees some of the same men, but there are more.”
Caleb uttered a vile expletive.
Another wave of agony made McBride grip his head. As he stood there, wondering why Caleb had rejected him this final time, he realized it probably wouldn’t matter. If the excruciating pain didn’t kill him, the invading slammers would.
THE END
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Reading, writing, and white-water rafting are the three things Anitra Lynn McLeod enjoys the most. You can visit her at www.AnitraMcLeod.com.
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