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Adobe Palace

Page 55

by Joyce Brandon


  They reached the master bedroom on the second floor. Kincaid looked at the room, then walked out onto the veranda. “You should have put the house on the other side of this mountain, then at night you’d be able to see the North Star and the Big Dipper.”

  Samantha flashed a look at Steve that begged him to convince Kincaid she’d done the right thing. Steve shrugged.

  “We chose this side of the mountain because it’s cooler in the summertime,” she said weakly.

  “You’ve got a point, but I wouldn’t be comfortable looking at a night sky with no North Star or Big Dipper.” Kincaid grinned apologetically at Steve. “I’ve spent too many nights on the desert, I guess.”

  “Doing what?” Steve asked.

  “Chasing horse thieves mostly.”

  “Lance was an Arizona Ranger,” Samantha interjected.

  “I was an Arizona Ranger for…two weeks,” Steve said.

  Kincaid grinned. “That indicates a higher level of intelligence than me, then. I stuck it out for three years.”

  “Where did you serve?”

  “Southeast quadrant. There were only four of us then. One for each quarter of the territory. How about you?”

  “It was an accident really. A man by the name of McNamara shanghaied me.”

  “That’s the man!” Kincaid slapped his thigh. “I lost at poker to him—and ended up serving more time than if I’d robbed a bank.”

  They laughed together. At first Samantha was relieved that Lance was no longer picking on where they had sited the house, but once started, he and Steve went on and on about McNamara and his Ranger unit.

  After a while, when the McNamara stories didn’t subside, she showed Lance to his room and then led Steve downstairs.

  “Why didn’t you say something to help me?”

  “When?”

  “When he said we should have built on the other side of the mountain.”

  “Oh, he didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “He did, too!”

  “Naw. He was just reminiscing.”

  “You certainly did enough of that.”

  “I like him. He’s quite a man.”

  “You laughed enough.”

  “Well, I guess it had to go one way or the other. And it’s stupid for me to argue with the man you love.”

  “So, you’re just going to smile and hand me over to him?”

  “Love is like faith, Samantha. You either have it or you don’t. And if you do, no one can talk you out of it. I already know how you feel about him.”

  “We’re not even going to discuss it?”

  “Arguments only make the faithful mad.” With that sage reply, Steve nodded to her and headed for the door, humming under his breath what sounded like a marching tune. Probably an Arizona Ranger marching tune, she thought sourly.

  Steve kept up the jaunty tune until he reached his cottage. Inside, he walked to the sofa and sank down onto it. He closed his eyes and tried not to think, but his mind would not be still.

  Grief filled him. The man Samantha loved had finally come for her. Steve had sensed Kincaid’s vulnerability to her instantly. He loved her as much as she loved him. Except for the awful feeling in his gut, Steve was grateful, because he didn’t want her hurt. But he hadn’t guessed how Kincaid’s coming to claim her would affect him until now.

  He felt as though all his loved ones had died at once. He felt sick and weary and filled with despair.

  Working on the house with her day after day, even knowing Kincaid would someday come, it had been easy to forget about the future. Her lovely presence had lulled him into complacency. He hadn’t realized it could end so suddenly and irrevocably, or that he could feel so sick in his soul.

  He got up abruptly and walked to the window. As he watched, Samantha and Kincaid walked out of the front door hand in hand. They strolled across the backyard and began to climb the mountain behind the house. They made a striking couple. Kincaid was tall and well proportioned; Samantha was incredibly beautiful and vibrant in a red-and-white gown that hugged her slender waist.

  “Steve.” Nicholas’s voice called through the open doorway. “Can I come in?”

  Steve struggled to hide his bleeding insides. “Sure, partner. Come on in.”

  “Are you okay?” Nicholas asked, watching him closely.

  “Sure, why not?” he lied.

  “I heard Juana talking about—about—She said you might leave because Uncle Lance—That he might stay and marry my mom.”

  “Well,” Steve said, stalling, trying to think of a suitable response. “Well…”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I want you to marry my mom. If you’d just ask her, I’m sure I could talk her into it,” he said earnestly.

  Steve shook his head. “It isn’t that easy.”

  “She’ll do just about anything for me,” Nicholas said quickly.

  “I know,” Steve admitted ruefully. “And, I appreciate the recommendation. I’d marry her in a minute, if I got the opportunity, but she…ummm…prefers your uncle Lance.”

  Nicholas frowned. “You don’t think there’s any hope, do you?”

  “Not much.”

  Nicholas stared glumly out the window. “I think women should just have to do what they’re told.”

  In spite of himself, Steve laughed.

  Nicholas frowned in frustration. “Well, then,” he said, “if you leave, I’m going with you.”

  Steve was deeply touched. “I wish you could, but you can’t leave your mother. She needs you.”

  “She’ll have him. Besides, all men leave home sooner or later. I’m almost seven, and I work full time. I’m earning enough to live on, so…”

  Steve laughed and sent the boy off to bed.

  “Señor,” Juana called through the open doorway.

  “Come in, Juana,” Steve said, standing up with some effort.

  “Sit, sit,” she urged him, waving her hand. “Me, I just come to see how you are doing, señor.”

  “I’m…okay.”

  “The señora should be spanked, letting that—that interloper come here,” she said, scowling at the new house.

  “She’s entitled. It’s her house.”

  “Humph! If not for you, we would all be crushed under a rock like so many bugs. If she belong to me, I would turn her over my lap so fast.”

  Steve smiled at the idea of Juana spanking Samantha.

  “Señor Steve, this is a secret between me and you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I have this veneno that I got a long time ago…”

  “Veneno?” Steve questioned, not recognizing the word.

  “Shhhh!” Juana hissed, looking from side to side. “Poison,” she mouthed, “and I wanted to know if you would like me to feex heem?”

  Steve laughed. “Poison him? Are you serious?”

  “Shhhh! Sí! Me, I wouldn’t keel him, but I could make heem so seek.”

  Steve suppressed the urge to laugh hysterically. “I appreciate your help, Juana, but I think we’d better hold off on that.”

  Juana scowled fiercely. “Eef you change your mind, señor, just let Juana know. Me, I weel fix him such a dinner you would never believe.”

  “No, thank you, Juana.” She left and Steve sank back on the sofa.

  Knock, knock. Steve opened his eyes to see Elunami standing in the doorway.

  “Come in,” he said, sighing, rising to his feet.

  Elunami walked close to him and peered into his eyes. “You are in great pain,” she whispered.

  Steve started to deny it. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Nothing. She’s in love with him. He’s come to claim her. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “She loves you.”

  “No, you’re wrong about that. At the most she has perhaps enjoyed being with me at times, but she loves him.”

  “So, you will just give up? Without a fight?�
��

  “Yes.”

  “That is not good.”

  “What would you do?”

  “I would tell her how I feel.”

  “She knows how I feel.”

  “You have told her?”

  “Enough. She knows.”

  “Women never know. Men are like brick walls to women.”

  “I’m not. I’m like a pickle in a glass jar to her. She knows everything about me worth knowing.”

  Elunami shook her head sadly. “You are making a mistake.”

  “Well, thanks anyway for your concern.”

  Elunami pressed his hand and slipped out the door. Steve sank down on the sofa again.

  Lance helped Samantha up the last incline, and they settled on a spongy mat of pine needles. The tree sheltered them from the sun, slanting in at a late-afternoon angle.

  Lance picked up a pine needle and began breaking it into small pieces with his thumbnail. “Well, it’s done,” he said. “Getting a divorce is a hellish, ticklish thing, but we did it.”

  He tossed away a couple of pine needles that were too flexible to break. “Did you know there’s a law against collusion? If two people want a divorce badly enough to make up a story, they can’t get one? We finally settled on desertion, because I could prove Angie deserted me.”

  “How did Angie take it?”

  “Cool as ice. Didn’t even take her coat off. But that was probably because she had the good grace to be embarrassed by the fact that she was pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “Yes.” Lance covered his face with his hands and Samantha realized with horror that he was crying. My God, she thought. He’s only a man. That disloyal thought was accompanied by a seemingly contradictory feeling of great warmth and love for him. Confused, she leaned close and hugged him.

  Lance wiped his eyes and got control of himself.

  “So,” Samantha asked gently, “how long have you been home?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “You could have come to my party,” she said, chiding him.

  Lance grimaced. “I came home feeling sick and weary—and as full of poison as a rattler. You and the party were better off without me.”

  “So, when will you be free?”

  “I’m free now.” Lance glanced over at her. “So, I was wondering if you would consider coming to Durango now?”

  Samantha’s mind went blank. “What for?”

  “Well, if we’re going to marry, it makes good sense for us to live in the same town.”

  Samantha frowned down at the pine needles, glistening pink in the sunlight. “This reminds me of when we were children,” she said softly.

  “In what way?”

  “All this negotiating.”

  Lance shrugged. Then Samantha sighed. “It isn’t going to work, is it?”

  “We can make it work.”

  “No, we can’t. You’re still in love with Angie. Maybe we love each other enough to make a marriage work anyway, but if I marry you the way things are, and it doesn’t work, we might lose our friendship. And that friendship is one of the most important things in the world to me. I don’t think I could stand that.”

  “That’s a hell of a thought,” Lance growled.

  “But it’s true.”

  “Damn,” Lance said heavily. “You know I just divorced her at great emotional and financial expense. And she’s expecting another man’s baby. She wouldn’t come back to me no matter what you and I do, but you’re right. I value your friendship. I guess I need that even more than I need a wife. Hell, I don’t think I’m fit company for a wife anyway. Maybe I won’t be for years,” he admitted ruefully.

  They talked for hours, until the sun was setting. Then Samantha said, “I think I hear Nicholas calling me.”

  Lance stood up and gave her his hand. They smiled at each other, then he pulled her into his arms. He was warm and strong and brotherly. “Thank you, Sam,” he whispered against her hair.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’ll always be my best friend in the whole world. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

  Hours later, near sunset, Steve saw Kincaid and Samantha returning from their walk. They looked close and happy. Steve was glad for her, for both of them actually, but the sight of her smiling up into Kincaid’s face caused his heart to ache with such intensity he wished he hadn’t seen it.

  Hand in hand they skirted his cottage and walked toward the gate. Then Steve saw why. An arriving carriage crunched through gravel toward the front door of the house. The carriage stopped; Kincaid helped a blond woman in a heavy tan coat to step down. In spite of the bulky coat, Steve could tell she was expecting. They talked for a moment, then Samantha went inside; Kincaid followed the woman.

  Curious, Steve sought out Juana to inquire who the visitor was.

  Juana rolled her eyes. “Señora Kincaid.”

  “His wife?”

  “Sí.”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  Juana grinned gleefully. “He could be in beeg trouble, huh?”

  Samantha left them together. Angie angled away from the workmen swarming over one of the outbuildings and headed toward the front of the mountain, where she could look out over the desert to the south. Lance walked beside her, waiting and watchful, his old self, apparently. His stance reminded her of his Ranger days.

  “Being in love with Samantha seems to be good for you,” she said finally.

  “It does?” he asked, frowning. “In what way?”

  “You look whole again.”

  Lance decided to let that pass. “I never expected to see you again,” he said softly.

  “Well, your luck can’t always be good,” she replied.

  Lance quirked an eyebrow at her. “Still presumptuous, I see.”

  “My spirit wasn’t entirely broken by the courts.”

  “I think it was pretty close, though,” he said, grimacing at the memory. “It was for me anyway.”

  “The worst part was learning that a woman cannot get a divorce if her husband commits adultery, unless she has other, more serious grounds. But of course, any man in the country can get a divorce if his wife commits adultery. No other grounds needed for that,” she said, her lovely brown eyes flashing with inner fire.

  Lance grinned. “I knew that rankled.”

  “How on Earth can men get away with these things?” she asked, astonished anew.

  “We wrote those laws carefully,” he admitted, smiling with unabashed happiness. It felt so good to see her, in spite of everything, that he couldn’t stop smiling. Fortunately she wasn’t looking at him.

  “That was obvious,” she said, surveying the setting sun, which was casting provocative shadows and golden lights on everything in sight. “What a beautiful view.”

  “Yeah. I can tell you’re deciding on camera angles.”

  Angie smiled in spite of herself and looked at him fully for the first time. His finely chiseled features looked so dear that her throat started to ache. “So,” she asked abruptly, “are you curious as to why I’ve come?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I hate to tell you this, and I know it’s too late, but…I realize I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, and I’d like to…tell you something that you need to know. You don’t have to do anything about it or change any of your plans. I’m not asking you to reconsider anything…”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I lied to you. About Hal Stockton. I never slept with Hal or anyone else. I did that to get rid of you, because I saw how badly you still wanted a baby, and I knew I could never give you one.”

  “That was a lie?”

  “Yes.”

  Lance turned her and looked into her eyes. They were clear and lovely as ever. Angie had frustrated and irritated and discombobulated him any number of times, but he believed her about Stockton.

  “So, why are you…telling me this now?” he asked, his voice breaking with emotion.

  “Because…I learned some
things while I was away.”

  “What?” he asked cautiously.

  “I figured out why I’ve not been able to conceive or carry a baby to full term.”

  “Why not?”

  “This probably won’t make sense to you. You’ve never understood what you call female voodoo, but I think it was because I was afraid to.” He scowled, then she told him about her little brother who had died during the fire.

  Her face crumpled; she couldn’t continue for a moment. “Anyway,” she said, wiping tears aside impatiently, “I guess it hurt me so badly that I never wanted to take a chance on feeling that way again.”

  Lance reached into his jacket pocket and handed her his handkerchief.

  “So,” he asked, looking uncomfortable, “how do you know that had anything to do with…this?” he asked, pointing at her stomach.

  “Because, after I remembered everything I stopped being sick every day.”

  That made sense, even to him. “You mean we actually made a baby together?” he asked, grinning suddenly.

  “Yes, and my doctor in San Francisco says that he sees no reason why I can’t carry this baby to term. He says the baby seems perfectly healthy, and so do I.”

  “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, still stunned. She smiled up at him; an answering smile tugged his face out of shape. He felt hope and love swelling within, replacing the grief and loneliness he’d carried like a rock in his stomach ever since she’d left him.

  “I know that after all we’ve been through, I shouldn’t ask this, especially after promising not to, but can I come back?” she whispered.

  Lance pulled her into his arms and held her. His heart ached with the sudden inflow of love and warmth and hope. For the first time since she’d left him, he felt alive again.

  “Well,” he said, groping for the right words, “only if you promise to be your old cantankerous self again. You have to take a lot of pictures, and smell up the entire house with developing fluid, and forget to give Yoshio money for groceries…”

 

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