Texas Rich

by Fern Michaels

  “Did you speak to Moss yet?”

  “No. I called you first. I knew you would be in the studio. I’m going to call him now when I hang up. Riley wanted it this way. You first and then his father. He told me to break it to you easy arid to tell you he loved you and not to be angry.”

  “I am angry. Not with him, but with Moss. Oh, Thad, what’s going to happen now?”

  “Riley is going to distinguish himself like his father did. At least that would be my guess. It’s done, Billie. I’m sorry I didn’t call you as soon as I knew, he specifically wanted me to call today. You understand, don’t you?”

  “I’m not blaming you, Thad. I’m sorry Riley had to place you in this position.”

  “I’m not sorry. I’m glad he came to me instead of some stranger. I’ll call you over the weekend. Take care, Billie.”

  Billie threw herself on the couch in front of the fire and wept. Riley, Riley, how could you do this? Dear God, keep him safe. Don’t let anything happen to my son. Thad would watch over him. Thad would keep him safe, if it was at all possible.

  Billie sat up and wiped her eyes. Crying wasn’t going to help. Things had to be done.

  The trek to the main house in the deep snow left her exhausted. She stormed through the front door, not bothering to remove her snow-caked boots, and strode into the library where Moss, Seth, and Agnes were talking excitedly. “It’s your fault, the two of you!” she cried. A long, trembling finger shot out and jabbed at Moss’s chest. “It’s your fault, and you know it. I’ll never forgive you, Moss. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone? The boy would have come to his senses sooner or later. Damn you!”

  “Hold on there, missy,” Seth bellowed. “None of us like what the boy did, but we’re gonna live with it. I have a call in to Washington right now.”

  Billie turned and caught the glittering look in Moss’s eyes. Surely he didn’t approve of what Seth was doing? Or did he? “Moss, don’t allow this. Riley did what he thought you wanted. You must let him go through with it.”

  “Stateside, we’ll keep him stateside. That’s all Pap is going to do, Billie,” Moss said in a resigned tone.

  “It won’t work! Riley is going to do what you did. He feels he has to prove himself to you. Forget your call, Seth, and leave the boy alone.”

  “Don’t interfere, little gal. You don’t belong to this family anymore. That divorce action you started ended any rights you have here at Sunbridge,” Seth said harshly.

  “How dare you! Riley is my son, too!”

  “Go back to the studio, Billie,” Moss said wearily. “We’ll handle this. We’ll do what’s best for the boy.”

  “Will you, now. Well, we’ll just see about that. I’m calling Thad. I won’t have either of you interfering in Riley’s life. You’ve already done enough harm.”

  “Pap is right, Billie. You have no say anymore. Go play with your paints and brushes.”

  “I always knew you were a bastard, but I didn’t know you were cruel, too. God forgive you, Moss, because I won’t!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “It’s settled, Moss.”

  It was a week after Billie’s confrontation with her husband, and Seth had sent Agnes to fetch Moss to the sunroom. Alone with his father, Moss knew there was no need for pretense. “How? Where?”

  “The day the boy leaves the Oceanic Naval Air Station in Virginia he’ll be on his way to that speck in the Pacific.”

  Moss’s eyes widened. “Guam?”

  “What better place? There’s no way the boy will ever find out either of us had a thing to do with this.”

  “And Thad?” How bitter his friend’s name sounded these days.

  “Your friend will do as he’s told. He’s a military man. He’s used to obeying orders.”

  Moss frowned as he paced the spacious sunroom. “Riley isn’t going to like this.”

  “Trust me, Moss. The boy will be flying, but he’ll be piloting weather planes ... or an occasional search and rescue flight—he’ll like that. The thing is, he’ll be safe, and as long as he’s flying he’ll accept his orders. The Naval Air Station in Agana is just the place for our boy.”

  “For some reason, Pap, I’m not reassured,” Moss muttered. “I can feel a snafu coming up somewhere.

  “Where’s Kingsley now?” Seth barked.

  Caught off guard, Moss had to admit he didn’t know.

  “It could be important. Agnes will know.” Seth banged his cane on the floor and bellowed Agnes’s name until she came hurrying into the sunroom.

  “Seth, must you shout? I placed a bell right near your chair. All you have to do is ring it.”

  “I told you I feel like a cow when I use that damn bell. You’re supposed to anticipate my needs,” the old man said sourly.

  “I do. You’re just too cantankerous to realize it. What is it you want?”

  “Do you have an address for that Yankee admiral?”

  “He’s on Sunbridge’s Christmas card list. Do you want it?”

  “Why do you think I asked you about it? Yes, I want it. Right now.”

  Agnes was back in five minutes with a leather address book. “Would you like me to write it down?”

  “It would help, Agnes,” Seth drawled.

  “Hmmmn, Commander Fleet Air Western Pacific. Atsugi, Japan.”

  “Jesus,” Moss said in awe. “The old boy is right up there, isn’t he? Japan is a stone’s throw from Guam in case you didn’t know it, Pap.”

  “Moss, you’re worse than a pregnant widow. Relax. Kingsley isn’t going to interfere. Now let’s just roll with this till the boy is on his way.”

  “And Billie?”

  “As far as I’m concerned that little gal is no longer a Coleman. I don’t owe her any explanations. If you’re wise, you’ll take the same attitude. In fact, I’d suggest you close in, Moss, or I might just yank the rug from under you.”

  Moss lit a cigarette to avoid looking into his father’s eyes. Even though the blue-gray cloud of smoke made Seth’s eyes water, he had to smile. He recognized the ploy—and knew he was still in control.

  Back in his workroom Moss lit another cigarette. What did he know about Guam? Not much, really. He’d spent a day and a half in Guam once. It was green—that much he remembered—and humid, like Florida in midsummer. He recalled that the people were pleasant, always smiling. Riley could do worse. In the end he wasn’t going to have much choice but to go along with things. At least the boy would be safe. He wouldn’t be going to Vietnam.

  At the thought of Billie Moss groaned aloud. Jesus, where was it all going to end? He ached for the old days, his younger days, when he didn’t have to account to anyone or anyplace. Of late, the feeling that his world was coming down around him was getting stronger. He felt helpless, and he hated it.

  His feelings were so mixed with regard to Billie. Should he try to palaver, to negotiate—risk making a fool of himself? They’d been apart for so long. This new Billie with her emancipated thinking was someone he no longer knew. Did he want to put forth the effort to try to make things work again? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know, not now, not when his mind was full of Riley.

  Three weeks later, Billie Coleman moved out of Sunbridge to take an overly large apartment in downtown Austin. It was a penthouse with two skylights and an outdoor balcony, and it was just what Billie had wanted. She’d signed a three-year lease and made arrangements to move her work materials and her personal belongings into the apartment within the week. Everything would be new, right down to Sawyer’s bedroom furniture. Moss had been very generous with what he’d called her “going-away check.” Whatever she wants, he’d told his lawyer; give her whatever she wants. Keep her happy, but drag out the divorce. Maybe, just maybe, she would come to her senses.

  Work was going well. She had two orders for her designs and the promise of a third if she could fulfill her first commitments on time. She hadn’t been this self-confident since the day she’d married Moss, and she reveled in the
feeling. She was Billie Coleman, textile designer; she was also solely responsible for her granddaughter, a responsibility she had every intention of fulfilling. She was in charge of her life and would see to it that only good things came her way.

  It was a new beginning.

  Lieutenant Riley Seth Coleman left Oceanic Naval Air Station in Virginia on the same day his mother moved out of Sunbridge. For Riley it was a new beginning, too. Guam! The old man would have a bird when he found out. Unless of course he was behind the written orders. Riley didn’t think that was likely, though, and in the end he’d let it go. He and Adam Noble were going to Guam to fly P-3 weather planes and a few search and rescue flights. At least these planes had Coleman instrumentation in them—some of them were no doubt Coleman planes. That would give both his grandfather and father a kick.

  He admitted to Adam Noble on the long flight to Guam that it wasn’t what he wanted. The folks would be happy, though. What could go wrong flying a weather plane?

  “I want to know what we’re going to do with our free time,” Adam said. “I hear they roll up the roads at five P.M. I don’t think Guam is in the social book of records.”

  Riley grimaced. “We might like it. We aren’t going to be all that far from Tokyo. Hawaii will only be five hours away. We have to look at the bright side of things. I brought plenty of books for the long hot nights.”

  “Good for you, Coleman. While you’re reading I plan to explore and meet some of the locals. I’ve heard the girls are beautiful:”

  “And well protected.” Riley laughed. “You’re liable to have a duenna after you. Give it some thought. Besides, we’re not supposed to mess around. You know that.”

  Adam’s blue eyes sparkled. “I never forced a girl to do anything she didn’t want to do. I think I can handle these sloe-eyed beauties.”

  “And their mamas,” Riley reminded him. “You’re a long way from the San Fernando Valley, Adam, and they play by their rules over there.”

  Ten days after setting foot on Guam Riley realized he disliked the humid island. The verdant foliage and lush tropical blooms made him homesick for sagebrush and rolling farmland. The rain depressed him. It seemed as though the skies opened hourly and warm, wet waterfalls cascaded down from the heavens. The roads steamed and the vapor rose to make him sweat like a Trojan. He itched. He perspired. He hated.

  “C’mon, Coleman,” Adam said one Sunday afternoon. “You’re coming with me. I got you a date with a sweet thing, and if I have to boot your tail all the way to Barragada, I’ll do it.”

  “Dust off, Adam. I’m staying here. I have some letters to write. It would do you good to write home, too—the CO had a letter from your mama last week wanting to know if you were alive or dead.”

  “I’ll write her tonight if you come with me this afternoon.”

  “Adam, I don’t want to go. Tell the girl I got sick unexpectedly.”

  “Aren’t you interested that I’m in love? This girl is different. I mean it, Riley, I’m in love. She loves me, too. I’m going to talk to the CO tomorrow about marriage.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Riley said in awe.

  “I’m serious. Her parents aren’t crazy about me, though. They’re Chomorra, and I don’t think they like Americans. I’m trying to win them over. Nita—that’s her name—got you a date with a friend of hers, Otami. But that’s not the main reason I want you to come along; I really want you to meet Nita. Will you do it?”

  Riley sighed heavily. “All right, let me just slick down my hair and get some clean clothes.”

  An hour later, Adam swung the borrowed car into a rutted driveway that was overgrown with weeds.

  A quonset hut was off to the left. Everywhere there were pots of flowers, some in bloom, others getting ready to bud. It was so colorful, so rich, Riley wanted to reach out and pluck one of the blossoms. His first thought was that the unseen Nita came from a poor family. Clean, neat, but poor. A dog barked and circled his feet. He bent down to scratch the animal behind his ears.

  “If you say ‘Good girl, Bo,’ she’ll be your friend for life,” Adam said knowingly. “Here come the girls. Mine is the one on the left. Isn’t she beautiful? That’s Otami on the right.”

  Riley’s cap was off in an instant. The vision walking toward him had to be the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Even her name was beautiful. Introductions were made. Riley shifted from one foot to the other, trying not to take deep breaths. Adam and Nita had already forgotten about him, intent on each other.

  “Hafa-adai, Lieutenant,” Otami said shyly. She was welcoming him to Guam, where the day begins. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  Walk? She wanted to walk with him. “Yes, I’d like that.” He felt suddenly tongue-tied in her presence, too warm under the collar. Every word, every thought, had to be monitored so he didn’t babble like an idiot.

  “Come along then, Lieutenant. Nita can’t leave the house until her parents return from a Christening, but we can go for a short walk, and by the time we return, her parents will be home. I can show you a little of the village. You’re in Ordat, by the way.”

  As she spoke, he listened to her voice, wishing she’d go . on forever. Her musical, lyrical way of speaking intrigued him. Her accent was soft—at times the way she strung her words together seemed awkward to his ear—but the effect was foreign and exotic, and he loved it.

  She was small and slim, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder, but her figure was womanly; all the curves were in the right places. She wore a simple cotton dress, fashionably short above the knees, and on her narrow feet were flat-heeled black shoes. Her long straight black hair was knotted at the top of her head, and long feathery tendrils escaped here and there. In the sunlight the mass of ebony glinted with shimmering blue lights, and it looked incredibly soft.

  “Do you live with Nita and her family?” Riley asked.

  “No. We attend university together. I live down the road with my uncle. He was quite ill for a time and my parents wanted someone from the family to stay with him. At the same time they didn’t want my studies interrupted, so I attend university part-time. I’ll be going back to Tokyo when the term ends.”

  Riley missed her already. “That’s not too far away.”

  “To me it is.” She smiled. “I miss my parents and my friends. Where do you live, Lieutenant?”

  “Texas. Near Austin.”

  “Do you miss Texas?”

  Riley nodded. “Very much. I can understand your missing your home, but we have to make the most of it. We can always go home. Home will always be there. Please, call me Riley.”

  “Only if you call me Otami. You haven’t said my name even once.”

  “Otami.” He said the name almost to himself, liking the way it felt on his tongue, liking the sound of it in his ears. “What are you studying at the university?”

  “Advanced English courses. I’ve done some translating for a publisher in Japan, but I’m mostly interested in journalism. My father owns a newspaper in Tokyo and I am hoping to work with him someday.” She smiled. “Japanese fathers are very protective of their children. I think he would rather have me sheltered from the world. Naturally, he believes that one day I will marry and bless him with grandchildren.”

  “Will you?” He was panicked at the thought that there might already be someone who had spoken for her.

  “Will I what? Marry or have children? Yes, I suppose I will.” She turned up her chin to face him, her gaze almost a tangible touch to his face.

  “Is there anyone special right now?” .

  Her smile was sunny and more than a little mysterious. “There may be, Riley. There just may be. Tell me about your family. Is your father the typical indulgent American father?”

  Riley threw back his head and laughed. “If you ever met him, you’d eat your words. My grandfather would make you swallow them. There are some who’d say I’ve been indulged, but I’ve paid a hefty price.” He thought of how hard he’d tried t
o please Moss and be worthy of all that love. “My mother is different, though. She loves just for the sake of loving, expecting little in return.” ...

  “As a mother should be,” Otami agreed. “As my own mother is. It’s wonderful to have two such people to care for you.”

  “Remarkable. Your hair is beautiful and your eyes are like black coffee.” He half expected her to turn away or even to giggle. But Otami lifted her chin and stared up at him, pleasure coloring her cheeks and glowing in her eyes.

  “And yours are like the skies of summer,” she told him simply, truthfully. “My favorite time of the year.”

  “You didn’t tell me if there was someone special,” Riley said bluntly. He had to know.

  “No. Do you have a special girl?”

  “No.” Until now, he thought. This girl was special from the top of her shiny head to the tip of her toes. There was a certain stillness about her—it was a trait he coveted. He himself always seemed to be churning and stewing about something.

  “How do you like Ordat?” Otami smiled.

  “Not as much as I like you,” he said brazenly, wondering if he’d spoken too soon. Would she turn and run from him? Had he been too impetuous? She made a movement; he tensed. Suddenly she slipped her hand into his. It was small and soft and cool.

  “Will you see me again? After today?”

  “If it is what you would like.”

  “When?”

  “Whenever you would like. My uncle is doing nicely now and I don’t have to spend as much time with him. You must come to our house, though. I cannot meet you here again; it is not really proper. My uncle would be displeased. He is a nice man, a fair man, but I must be honest. He does not like Americans, for what they did to Hiroshima.”