by Lily George
“We don’t eat chili at home,” Laura said. “We eat proper food.”
“Good girl.” St. Clair gave her an affectionate, indulgent look. Then he turned to Jack. “I’m glad you saw reason, Burnett. No need to have my granddaughter out on the prairie where it is so dangerous. She’s much better off here, where she belongs.”
The waitress brought the first course of caviar on toast ends. Laura took one bite and spit it out in her napkin. “That’s awful,” she gasped, her eyes watering.
“Now, Lolly,” her grandfather scolded gently, “has living in Texas ruined your palate? Your mother loved caviar. She would have existed on nothing else, if she could.”
“Well, I can’t. It’s disgusting.” Laura took a big gulp of her lemonade.
Should Ada restrain her stepdaughter from spitting and gulping in public? Normally, Laura’s table manners were quite fine, and her grandfather had just upbraided her for at least one infraction. Perhaps it would be better to fall silent about the whole thing. Very few children would find caviar palatable, anyway.
She glanced over at Jack. The corners of his mouth were twitching, as though he was trying to suppress a grin. It was obvious that he was thinking, “That’s my kid.”
“We shall work to get you used to it,” St. Clair replied smoothly. “When you come home to Evermore on school holidays, I shall have your cousins and aunts work with you to show you the finer points of etiquette. I thought Mrs. Burnett would handle that aspect of your upbringing, but I suppose she had her hands full. It sounds as though Texas is a string of disasters.”
Ada was at a loss for words. She had neglected to give Laura any sort of social polish, that much was true. She had been busy attending to Jack and Pearl, and Laura behaved better than any other child she had encountered. There was no need to gild the lily, so to speak. Laura was naturally graceful and would grow into her maturity.
“School holidays?” Jack spoke up, the traces of good humor gone from his expression and his voice. “Do you mean she will either be at Mrs. Erskine’s or at Evermore? Is she not to visit the ranch?”
“I don’t believe that’s a good idea.” St. Clair gave Jack a pointed look. “You are, of course, welcome to visit us all at Evermore, or to visit her in St. Louis before she leaves for the holidays, as you had before. You know what Emily’s will stipulated. If you were found to be an unfit parent, then I would take over as sole guardian. I find that life in Texas is far too harsh for my granddaughter. She will spend her school days at Mrs. Erskine’s and holidays with me in Charleston.”
Could she possibly be hearing right? So, Laura would never be allowed to return to Texas? “But, sir,” she said, “don’t blame Jack for my failings. He is a wonderful father to Laura. Domesticity is not my forte, I’m afraid. I don’t want Jack and Laura to be separated merely because I’m a poor hand at housekeeping.”
“My dear,” St. Clair rejoined, giving her a silky smile. “Your lack of domestic skills is hardly the largest part of this problem. It is merely indicative of the graver situation, one that I suspected long ago. Texas is no place to raise a child.”
She dared not look at her husband. If she did, she would burst into tears.
Laura was oddly silent. Ada hazarded a glance at her stepdaughter. Was she all right?
Laura was staring at her grandfather, her normally pink cheeks a bright shade of red. “Texas isn’t like that,” she began, her voice quavering. “It’s not.”
“Now, Lolly.” St. Clair leaned over and patted her hand. “It’s a fine place for rough-and-tumble cowboys like your father, but it’s no place for a young lady.”
“That’s not true.” Laura’s entire body was quivering—with rage or fear, Ada couldn’t tell which. “Don’t say that.”
“Keep your voice down, Laura.” Her grandfather spoke to her sharply for the first time during their meeting—possibly for the first time ever. “You are making a scene.”
“I. Will. Not.” Laura punctuated each word with a slap of her palm on the table. “Grandfather, I didn’t know that if I returned to Mrs. Erskine’s, I wouldn’t be able to see my family ever again.”
“Lolly.” Her grandfather’s voice was both pleading and commanding. “You can see them if they come to visit us at Evermore. Don’t you love it? You’ve come there so often. Just as we spoke of during your last visit, I’ll make your mother’s bedroom into your room. It will be perfect. As if this—” he paused, waving his hand at Ada and Jack “—never happened.”
Ada was at a loss for words. During their last negotiation, she had taken the lead. In fact, in every trying circumstance she could think of, she had assumed control. Now, however, she was swamped in misery. This was all her fault. Jack was losing Laura, not just during the school term, but forever. And she was going to lose both Laura and Jack.
The waitress took away the caviar and brought chicken broth. Laura sniffed at hers, wrinkling her nose.
“Perhaps it would be best if Jack could visit her at Mrs. Erskine’s,” she began, tentatively. “I suppose that would be the best way for Laura to see her father. As you say, he could come see her before she left for Evermore.” She didn’t say anything about the two of them. She couldn’t bring herself to lie.
“No.” Laura gave a defiant shake of her head, sending her blond ringlets cascading down her back. “I have a room in Texas, you know. With a pretty quilt on my bed.” She addressed her grandfather directly.
“That’s nice,” he began.
“Ada and Aunt Pearl made my room up just for me,” she continued. “Ada drives me to and from school every day in the gig. Every single day. No other student rides in a gig.” She gave her stepmother a fond look. “And Father saved my life. He saved all of our lives. When the twister was coming, he threw us in a ditch and covered us. He held us tight so the tornado wouldn’t get us. He was still hurting from Asesino, but he did it, regardless of the pain he was suffering.” She gave her father such a proud look that Ada gasped.
She never knew, until this moment, how much Laura loved her father.
“That’s just what I’m talking about, Lolly.” St. Clair threw his hands up in exasperation. “Danger everywhere you turn. It’s not safe for you, my dear.”
“Well, I know something about Charleston.” Laura fixed her grandfather with a glare. “I learned all about hurricanes in class earlier this year at Mrs. Erskine’s. I also studied geography. I know that Charleston is situated on the Atlantic coast and that hurricanes can be a problem in some seasons.”
Ada took a hasty sip of her lemonade to quell the sudden laugh bubbling up within her. Laura was a smart girl, probably far cleverer than any adult sitting at this table.
St. Clair turned an unhealthy shade of scarlet. “When hurricanes occur—if they do occur—we have precautions we take.”
“So do we in Texas,” Jack spoke up from his side of the table. His voice, no longer strained, sounded distinctly amused. “We have storm cellars for when tornadoes hit. That’s how a lot of people on our ranch made it through unscathed. We just happened to be caught while we were out on the prairie, that’s all.”
He smiled over at Ada, his green eyes twinkling with mischief.
His expression made his intent plainly obvious. Jack Burnett might lose his daughter, but not without a fight.
If Jack was going to go down swinging, then she would, too.
*
Jack looked around the table. He wasn’t going to lose his family. Ada hadn’t said anything, but he knew her heart. If he lost Laura for good, Ada would tell him they could no longer be married. Well, he wasn’t going to let that happen. He had promised himself that, after Laura was safely settled at school, he would propose to Ada and marry her in truth. He knew a good thing when he had it, and he wasn’t going to let her go. He was going to fight for his daughter and for his wife.
St. Clair had gone from smooth self-assurance to visible anger and frustration within a few heartbeats. Ada had moved from abject misery t
o budding hope. Laura, who had been so excited to see her grandfather, was now furious.
He should be happy that things were going his way, or at least looking better than they had before. He wasn’t happy about that, though. He was thrilled that his daughter was standing up for him, voicing her opinions as he had not heard her do before. Perhaps she lacked the social polish that St. Clair demanded, but she was a wholly rational girl who was making a sensible argument.
His heart jumped with pride as he looked at her.
“My little chickadee,” he said, keeping his voice gentle and even. “Your grandfather and I have been on opposite sides for years, trying to raise you right and take care of you. We assumed a lot of things. Some things we decided on your behalf, because you were too young to make decisions for yourself.”
St. Clair flicked him a warning glance, but Jack merely nodded respectfully.
“Your grandfather wants what’s best for you. So do Ada and I. If you want what your grandfather wants, you’ll still see us. We’ll come visit at Evermore. But the thing is, we think we know what suits you—we have opinions on the matter—but it’s your life. So you think it over. You tell us what you want. We’ll abide by your decision.”
He was letting her have her head, just as he would a spirited horse. How many times had that proved useful on the range? A horse was usually a better judge of the height of a fence or the depth of a puddle than its rider. If he judged for the horse, more times than not, he ended up flat on his back in a stream or gasping for air on the ground. But if he gave Blue his head, Blue would figure it out for himself and get them both safely through.
Laura needed to make this call. She knew what she needed. The adults gathered around this table would then strive to provide it for her. Well, he couldn’t make St. Clair do anything. But, as Ada had pointed out, St. Clair loved Laura. Surely, if Laura told her grandfather what she truly wanted, he would move a mountain to make it happen.
After all, he had done so for his daughter. Laura’s mother.
He attempted to drink the chicken broth because his throat was dry, but it was still too hot. So he sipped at his lemonade while St. Clair glowered at him. Laura toyed with her fork, marking little patterns on her linen napkin with its tines.
“Well, I can tell you right now I don’t want to just live in Charleston and at Mrs. Erskine’s,” she replied sharply. “I never thought I’d have to leave Ada and Father for good.” She set down her fork.
St. Clair remained quiet. This silence was nothing short of remarkable. Usually the man had a suave response for every situation.
“I like Mrs. Erskine’s, and I miss my school friends,” she continued. “But Miss Carlyle is a good teacher, too. I guess I was pretty much set on disliking school in Texas because it was so different from what I was used to. To be honest, I don’t think I gave it a fair trial.”
Jack’s heart leaped in his chest. At best, he had hoped for some sort of compromise, where Laura would come home for alternate holidays, spending the rest in Charleston. Could she really be willing to stay with them year-round?
“What are you saying?” St. Clair hunched over the table, pushing his cup of broth aside. Jack recognized this posture well. This was his full negotiation position, wherein he was finally ready to cut his losses and make a deal. Hadn’t the old man looked the same way when Jack and Emily had eloped and then refused to separate?
“Ada is teaching me to be a rational creature,” she replied. “No man will grant women the right to vote if they are indecisive.”
Ada grinned broadly, obviously pleased that her lessons were bearing fruit.
“I think I should return to Texas and give the school a real try,” Laura continued. “If, at the end of the term, I don’t like it, then I should prefer to return to Mrs. Erskine’s next year.”
“Sounds fair,” Jack replied, and Ada nodded sagely.
“I’d like to visit Evermore, as you and Ada agreed,” she continued, looking squarely at her grandfather. “Just—not during the summer. That’s hurricane season.”
Jack chortled—he couldn’t help it. Ada laughed, too.
“What’s so funny?” Laura demanded. “I think it’s a reasonable request. Don’t you?”
“Eminently reasonable.” Ada gave her stepdaughter a reassuring pat on the arm. “Entirely sensible.”
Jack waited for St. Clair’s response, his nervousness rising. To get right down to it, he didn’t have a right to insist that Laura have a choice. Emily’s will put all the decision making in St. Clair’s hands. However, the old man did truly love his granddaughter. His actions were motivated by his deep affection and care for her.
St. Clair made the mistake that they all had—fighting for Laura’s happiness without stopping to ask her what made her happy.
Then and there, Jack forgave St. Clair for everything he had done, when Emily was alive and after her death. Like Jack, he was a bewildered and yet belligerent father who wanted what was best for his daughter—and later, his granddaughter.
“Very well.” St. Clair sat back, defeated. “I suppose I know when I’m beaten.”
“You are not beaten.” Laura leaped from her chair and walked over to her grandfather, rubbing her cheek against his. “You are just becoming a sensible creature. Like me.”
A wave of relief washed over Jack, overpowering him with the desire to laugh. It was exhilarating to feel good after so much pain, so much tragedy and so much indecision. He could even attempt a deep belly laugh now, as his ribs had healed to the point he no longer needed a cast.
Ada merely smiled at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
They were going to be a family once more.
St. Clair chuckled, holding his granddaughter close. “I suppose I am. It’s about time, too, at my age. I declare, I don’t even have an appetite for chicken any longer. After such momentous negotiations, shall we skip straight to dessert?”
*
Ada made her way back into the drawing-room car after tucking Laura into her sleeping car. Jack was still awake. He had opened the curtains so that the moonlight glowed through the windows as the train sped through the night.
She took a seat across from him and stared out at the moon. “God’s in His heaven—all’s right with the world!” she quoted softly.
“Is everything really all right?” Jack leaned forward and took her hand in his. She could not suppress a shiver at the touch of his hand on hers. “Tell me the truth. If Laura had left, you would have, too. Wouldn’t you?”
A hot flush crept over her cheeks. She couldn’t force herself to meet his gaze. “I thought you would have ended it. After all, the reason you married me—”
“You thought that I had married you just to be a housekeeper and mother. Well, I guess that was the original plan. But oh, Ada honey, you are so wrong. I know I am a cowboy with a stubborn streak a mile wide, but you made me a better man. I’m a better father because of you. I’m a better Christian because of you. If you left me, what would I do?”
“Oh, Jack.” Tears filled her eyes. “I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you. I’ve become a better person just by being around you.”
“Don’t cry.” He brushed away her tears with the tips of his fingers. “I love you, too. And do you know what we’re going to do about it?”
“What?” She was breathless, hanging on to his words. She raised her eyes to his. Jack was looking at her with so much love, so much longing, that it made her heart hitch.
“We’re going to get married.”
Chapter Twenty
“Jack, I never thought I’d see the day when I would attend your wedding to my niece—twice,” Pearl called as she walked into the dining room. Her leg had healed in the weeks since bringing Laura home, and now she walked without a cane. Her limp was barely detectable.
Jack rose and poured a cup of coffee for her. “Good morning to you, too,” he replied with a laugh. “I already asked for your blessing, so I know I have it the s
econd time around. The first time, I believe you arranged it. Or at least, we all assumed you did.”
Pearl settled into a chair, accepting the coffee cup with a satisfied grunt. “Let’s just say I smoothed the road for you,” she agreed. “At least this wedding will be done up right. You won’t be wearing cowboy duds all sopping wet with wash water, for one thing. That’s a mighty nice suit you’ve got on. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed up.”
He glanced down at his new sack suit with a mixture of irritation and pride. It was hard not to feel silly, wearing shoes instead of boots and a suit instead of plain old pants and a shirt. This was Ada’s special request, though, and she deserved a proper wedding. “Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” he muttered. “I’d do anything for Ada, though.”
“I know you would.” She reached across the table and patted his hand. “I think Ada would do the same for you. You both had so much love within yourselves. You had your love for Laura to sustain you, and she had her love for her sisters. Gus, her father, was never much in the picture. Ada cared for Vi and Delia as if she was their mother, not their older sister. It just made sense to me that two folks with so much love in their hearts, and so much loneliness in their lives, should be together.”
Jack smiled, cradling his coffee mug in his hands. “I’m glad Vi and Delia are coming to visit. I guess I’d better go pick them up from the station in a few hours.”
“No, indeed.” The old woman grinned. “I haven’t seen Vi and Delia in ages. I’m going there to pick them up by myself. I suppose the house is going to be crowded, what with Laura, Vi, Delia and me.”
“I wouldn’t say it is crowded.” Jack was overwhelmed with feelings of love and gratitude, yet at the same time, he was struggling to say them aloud. It was hard to go from stubborn silence to open chattiness in the space of a few weeks. “When Emily was alive, I always wanted folks to visit. I wanted to share our home and offer generous hospitality to anyone who came to see us. But Emily didn’t want that. She was ashamed of our home, of our lives together.” He sighed. “Marrying Ada and gaining a family who wants to be at the ranch is everything I wanted.”
