Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

  "I'd like to see Mr. Coleman please. I'm Mrs. Thornton."

  "Do you have an appointment?"

  Sallie's hackles rose. "In a manner of speaking." She held out her card. The woman took it gingerly between her fmgers. She appeared to look at the printing out of the comer of her eye. "I'll see if Mr. Coleman has time to speak with you. Your business concerns . . . what?"

  "This particular visit is personal," Sallie said coolly.

  "Step this way, Mrs. Thornton," the woman said, holding the door open wider for SaUie to step through. "Wait here."

  "And you are ..."

  "Agnes Ames."

  Sallie looked around, distaste written all over her face. Everything was dark, manly, from the heavy double oak doors to the massive beams studding the ceiling. The furniture was dark leather, oversize, and worn. The carpets were costly Oriental but dark in color. The panoramic paintings on the walls consisted of burly men doing manly things; breaking horses, branding steers; men in the saddle, Stetsons pushed forward. A man's room. A man's house. Did Seth Coleman have a wife?

  Agnes Ames returned. "Mr. Coleman will see you. He said he can spare ten minutes since you made the drive out here."

  "How kind of him."

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  "Mr. Coleman is a very busy man," Agnes Ames said.

  "Really. If you worked for me, I would have fired you die minute I walked dirough die door."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Sallie stopped in mid-stride, forcing Agnes to stop and turn to face her. "I'm a visitor and I deserve courtesy. A smUe goes a very long way. You don't know what my business is, and since you don't know, it would behoove you to be civil to Mr. Coleman's guests." A devil perched itself on Sallie's shoulder. "For all you know I might be from the bank that holds the mortgage on this house. I might be here to foreclose. Women are doing things like that today while our men are off fighting."

  Agnes Ames didn't answer. She proceeded down a dark-paneled hall whose walls held the same kind of pictures as the entranceway.

  Agnes knocked on a door, waited for the command to enter, opened the door, and ushered SaUie into the room before she qui-edy withdrew, her face riddled with wary speculation.

  The man behind the rolltop desk rose. Blue eyes glittered beneath a wealth of wiry gray hair. His hand fumbled with his cane as he walked around his desk, but there was nothing of the invalid about this man. Salhe needed only one quick look to know he was indeed her lost brother Seth.

  "You look like Pop, Seth. Actually, you're the spitting image of him, just the way I'm the spitting image of Mama. I'm your sister Sallie."

  "Don't have no sister Sallie. Guess you made the trip out here for nothin'."

  "I was born after you lit out. You and Josh. You remember Josh, don't you? I don't want anything from you, if that's what's worrying you. As a matter of fact, there might be something I could do for you. My son is serving on the Big E with your son Moss. That's how I found you. Our sons talked and compared notes."

  "Your boy knows my boy?"

  "Yes, he's a fighter pilot. Actually, I have two sons; both are pilots. Seth, I'd like to know why you never went back to Ragtown, why you never sent money home. It would have helped Mama. I did. I was the only one. You have five other sisters, Seth. Peggy's living in Nevada now and married to the lieutenant governor. Maggie has the others and the last we heard they were all living in California. 1 need to know why you didn't care enough to help. You have no idea how Mama loved you. You don't, do you?" At Seth's helpless look, Sallie told him everything about the day she returned

  to Ragtovm, about the park she was going to build there. "All she wanted was you, her firstborn. Seth this, Seth that. For a while I hated you. I vowed to find you, and I did. I can't say you're someone I want to know. What you did was unforgivable. Doesn't your conscience bother you? I guess it doesn't, or you would have done something."

  His voice was gruff, a mixture of molasses and gravel when he spoke. "Pa would have drunk himself to death if I sent money."

  "You don't know that for a fact. You should have checked on us. How hard could that have been? Josh, too. I'll find Josh one of these days. He's not going to walk away from this either. I'm so ashamed of you. I cannot believe we have the same blood."

  "What the hell do you want from me?" Seth blustered.

  "All I want from you is to say you're sorry. We're blood, Seth. Blood takes care of its own. I guess I want to hear you say Mama was pretty, that she was a good mother, that you loved her."

  "I did, as much as a thirteen-year-old can love a mother. I lit out so there wouldn't be so many mouths to feed. Josh said he'd look after her. I can't go back and change the past. I was a kid. I busted my ass to get what I have. That doesn't make it right. I'd guess Josh got to the same point I got to, and lit out. You want money, is that it?"

  "I don't want money. Most of all I don't want j'owr money. I have my own. Probably more than you'll ever have in your lifetime. What do you think of that, big brother?"

  "Prove it," Seth blustered.

  "You're sure you want to know?"

  "I said I did, didn't I?"

  "Who was that woman who brought me back here? Are you married? Do you just have one child."

  "Are you writing a family history?" Seth demanded sourly.

  "One of diese days I might just do that Well?"

  "Well what?"

  "Are you married?"

  "My wife just passed away. She was a weak, frail woman. I have a daughter, a good-for-nothing piece of flesh. That woman who brought you back here is Agnes Ames, my son's wife's mother. She lives here now, with her daughter. Is there anything else you want to know?"

  "A weak, frail woman? A daughter . . . like myself, perhaps? I've only known you for a few minutes, but I'd bet you favored your son to the exclusion of all else. No father says his daughter is a good-for-

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  nothing. He'd protect that daughter with his last breath instead of degrading her. I'm sorry about your wife. As for Agnes Ames, she's a haughty, greedy woman."

  "You're pretty free with your tongue."

  "Yes, I am. I like things right up front. If something is worth saying, say it. I don't lie, I don't cheat, and I don't steal. I ran a check on you and I can read you chapter and verse on some of your escapades. By the way, your wife knew all about them. She knew why you married her. When people are lonely they talk to anyone who is willing to talk with them. I know everything there is to knOw about you, right down to your bank balance, and I have that to the penny, as of the close of business yesterday. I know about Skid Donovan, too. I know it all, so don't look down your nose at me. I made my mistakes, and I rectified them the best way I could at the time."

  "What the heU?"

  "Here," she said, handing over a packet of materials. She leaned back and lit a cigarette, her eyes never leaving her brother's startled face.

  "So, you're rich. So they call you Mrs. Nevada. What's that got to do with me?"

  "What that has to do with you is, you don't talk down to me. Not now, not ever. I can match you dollar for dollar. If I want to, I can call in the mortgage on this house like this," she said, snapping her fingers. "I own fifty-one percent of Coleman Aviation. We're partners. I bought into your company so I could keep my eyes on you, in case you turned out to be my flesh and blood. Women are not worthless. Believe me when I tell you I am not. I'd wager your wife wasn't either. You used her to get respectability. I'd like to shake your daughter's hand because I suspect she stood up to you, but you had only eyes for your son. Am I right? Of course I'm right," Sallie said, answering her own question. "You're going to do the same thing to your daughter-in-law. It's a pattern. People have patterns, did you know that? I don't like what I know about yours."

  "I don't know any such thing, and my family is none of your business. What are you here for? Is this some kind of contest? My business should not concern you."

  "Damn straight your business is my busines
s. We're blood. I own half of your business. The Pinkertons tell me you sell your beef to the war eftbrt, triple what it's worth. How can you do that, make a profit from war? You don't need the money."

  "I suppose you're going to tell me you donate food," Seth snarled.

  "As a matter of fact, I do. I wanted to make sure my sons as well as your son, and every other mother's son, had the best food possible. I'm getting weary of this exchange. I hope your son returns home safe and sound. You can keep those materials in case you ever want to get in touch with me."

  Seth nodded. "You look like Ma, at least the way I remember her." His voice was gruff with a hint of an apology.

  Sallie nodded, her eyes blinded with tears. "Thank you for saying that. She used to call me SaUie girl."

  Seth grinned. "She called me Seth boy. It was the same with Josh. You call your place Sunrise?"

  "Seems like maybe both of us were searching for some sunshine in our lives. Sunrise is a mountain. Is there anything I can do for you or your family before I leave?"

  "You could loan me three miUion dollars," Seth said slyly.

  Sallie nodded. Seth's eyes almost popped from his head when Sal-lie wrote out a check. "There are no terms, no interest. You pay me back when you can."

  "Just like that, no questions asked?"

  "Just like that. Wouldn't you do the same?"

  "Probably not."

  "I respect honesty," Sallie said. "I would, however, like an lOU, duly signed. Legibly, of course."

  "I respect your business sense," Seth said, writing out the lOU. Sallie pocketed the slip of paper.

  She rose, stretched out her hand. Seth grasped it, exerted as much pressure as his swollen knuckles would allow. SaUie didn't flinch. "I can see myself out, don't get up."

  On the walk back to the front door there was no sign of Agnes Ames. A young woman who reminded Sallie of Fanny Logan was at the foot of the steps. She smiled at SaUie.

  Sallie smiled back, "I'm Sallie Thornton, your aunt by marriage. Are you my niece, or are you Moss's wife? I should know that, but I don't."

  "I'm Billie Coleman, Moss's wife. Ameha, your niece, isn't here right now. I didn't know Moss had an Aunt Sallie. Do you know Moss? I was just going to go for a walk, would you like to join me?"

  "I'd love to. This is my first time at Sunbridge. I've been looking for my brother Seth for years and would you believe I just found him. My son and your husband served on the Big E. I think I met your mother when she let me in."

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  Billie smiled ruefully. "Mother can be rather overbearing. She's very protective of my father-in-law. What did your son tell you about Moss? Tell me what your son said about Moss."

  Sallie told her. "Moss and my son Simon agreed that we must be related. I'm so glad it worked out this way. I'd like to extend an invitation to you . . . and your mother to visit my family in Nevada anytime you can. I'd like you to meet our side of the family."

  "My mother-in-law died not too long ago. You would have liked her. Moss loved her dearly. Ameha, my sister-in-law, is wonderful, we get along well. I haven't made any friends here yet, I've been busy with my daughter and . . . and things. I'm so glad we met."

  "You remind me of a young girl I know back in Las Vegas. I'm going to try and play matchmaker when Simon comes back. The mother in me thinks they would make a perfect couple."

  "Tell me about your sons, Aunt SaUie."

  Sallie spoke quietiy about Ash and Simon—their rivalries, their youth, her hopes and dreams for both of them. Her eyes were as moist as Bilhe's when she finished.

  "You love them very much, don't you?"

  "More than you know."

  "Where are you staying?" Billie asked.

  "I have a flight to catch very shortly. My final destination today is a place called Ragtown. It's where Seth and I grew up. It was a terrible place, but it was the only home I knew."

  "I can't wait to tell Amelia about you. I'm sorry she isn't here. If I visit, can I bring her?"

  "Dear child, of course you can bring her. I can't wait to meet her. The next time a holiday comes up, I'll arrange a family party, and you'll come to visit. I'd like you to stay for a while, both you and Amelia. Do you think that might present a problem?"

  "If it does, I'll handle it."

  They were back at the car. "I wish I could stay longer," Sallie said.

  "I wish you could too. It seems like I've known you forever. It gets very lonely here. The house is so dark and gloomy and . . ."

  "Manly." Sallie smiled. "It wouldn't be my cup of tea. I like light, bright areas, and I prefer pastel and earth tone colors. I like open windows and lace curtains. Bright lights are important to me; I guess that's why I like Las Vegas. Til write, Billie. Here's my card. Please, anytime things close in on you, call me. Write. We're family now."

  Impulsively, shyly, Billie threw her arms around Sallie. "Thank

  you, thank you so much for coming today. I needed you today for some reason. You're so pretty. I wish I could look like you."

  "Heaven forbid! You're the one who is beautiful. Inside as well as outside. I'm a very good judge of character," SaUie said hghtly. "One day at a time, Billie, that's how you get by. I'll pray for Moss every night just the way I pray for all those who are fighting for us. Take care of yourself"

  "I will. I promise."

  Sallie kissed BiUie soundly on both cheeks and gave her one last hug.

  Agnes Ames watched the open display of affection from the foyer, her face grim. Seth Coleman watched it from the study window. He snorted his displeasure at the hugs and kisses. "Damn fool women, always hugging and kissing. Can't trust 'em when they start v^th that sniveling crap." He snapped the window blind back into place before he stomped his way back to his desk where he stared at the three-million-dollar check for a long time, his face sly, his glittery eyes calculating.

  Sallie arrived in Ragtown by taxi. Construction contractors, horticulturists, town fathers, the elderly prexdous owner, all greeted her, smiles on tlieir faces. The amenities over, Sallie walked to where the row of shacks stood. It was impossible to beheve several were still standing, twenty years later. Her eyes counted down the straggly row until she came to number four. A strip of the tin roof was still attached to one sagging wall. "How can even one sliver still be standing?" she muttered. Because, her heart responded, it's been waiting/or you.

  SaUie walked over to the place where she'd slept, eaten, and cried during her early years. She reached out to touch the sagging wall, turned, nodded to the contractor. She walked away, a red cloud of dust following her in little puffs.

  Hours later, after all the meetings, after all the words were said, Salhe took a late-night flight back to Las Vegas, secure in the knowledge the Ragtown Memorial would be a fitting tribute to all the poor families who had once hved there.

  Sallie stepped from the plane, her eyes searching for Devdn. Instead she saw her husband waiting at the gate. She started to run

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  the moment she saw him. Please, God, don't let him have bad news. Let my sons be safe. "What is it, Philip?" she screamed.

  "Sallie, Sallie, it's not the boys. They're fme. It's Ash, but it's good news."

  "Say it, Philip, what is it? You scared me to death. What? Why are you here?"

  "Because I wanted to be the one to tell you. Ash got married."

  "Married? Ash? How do you know this, Philip?"

  "Because his wife arrived here today, just hours ago."

  "His wife? Did you meet her? How did she find you?"

  "Ash called before she arrived. Devin was here at the airport, waiting for you, when she arrived. He took her back to town. I told him I'd wait for you. I did talk to her for a few minutes."

  "What's she like? Is she nice? Ash got married without telling us? That's unforgivable, Philip. How old is she? Do you like her? Am I going to like her? Answer me, Philip."

  "You already know her and like her. She said Ash wanted it this wa
y. It's Fanny Logan, Sallie."

  "Fanny! Devin's secretary^ Philip, how can that be? I don't understand any of this."

  "I don't either, but our son is married, and we now have a daughter-in-law. When the shock wears off, it's very easy to accept the fact."

  "Philip, this is all wrong. Ash isn't marriage material, and we both know it. Fanny ... I don't believe that sweet girl . . . how did this happen?"

  "They've been writing one another for months. They met when he was home on leave. You remember. It's my understanding they got to know one another through their letter writing."

  "I wanted ... I thought she would be perfect for Simon. I even mentioned him to her, showed her his picture. This is very upsetting, PhUip."

  "She loves our son, Sallie."

  "I want to go on record, Philip, right here and now, that this marriage is a mistake."

  "I'll remember you said that, Sallie. Fanny said she was going to continue working for Devin and will stay at the boardinghouse until Ash returns."

  "That's not right either. How can we allow her to live in a boardinghouse? Do you know if she has any money?"

  "If she wants to continue living in a boardinghouse, who are we

  to insist otherwise? It's a shock, Sallie. Let's go home and sleep on it. The morning will be time enough to come to terms with it all."

  "They aren't suited to one another."

  "We aren't either, but we're still married. Ash sounded happy on the phone. Fanny had stars in her eyes. She doesn't strike me as the kind of girl that would rush into marriage. In all the excitement, I forgot to ask you if Seth Coleman turned out to be your brother."

  "Yes he is. Let's go home, Philip. I'm very tired. It's all wrong, terribly wrong."

  "It's done. We have to make the best of it. Look at it this way, you now have the daughter you always wanted. She even resembles you."

  On the ride back to the town house, SaUie kept repeating over and over, "it's all wrong, terribly wrong," to which Philip repeated, "it will work out."

  12

  Fanny snuggled beneath the covers, her arms clutched around the soft, downy pillow. She squinted at the small alarm clock at the side of the bed—fifteen minutes before she had to get up and go to work. Fifteen, long, wonderful minutes to do nothing but think about Ash and Hawaii and the ten glorious days she'd spent there. She inched her hand out from beneath the pillow to stare at her wedding ring. It was plain and gold. Ash had promised a better one when he returned home, but she was never, ever, going to take off this ring. Nothing, not diamonds, not rubies, not emeralds, could tempt her. This was the ring Ash put on her finger, and this was the ring that was going to stay on her finger. She thought about the sharp words they'd had when she offered to buy a ring for him. He'd flat out refused. Fanny thought she'd taken his rejection rather well. Her father didn't wear a wedding ring. Philip Thornton didn't wear one, although that was a joke in itself. Perhaps one day. Ash would change his mind when he saw what a good wife she was going to be. She squinted at the clock again.