The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories

by Juliette Harper

  In reply, Elizabeth picked up an antique photo album from the table and held it out to him. “Quite sure,” she said, as Josh half rose from his seat and took the book. “Turn the pages until you find a portrait of two men," she directed.

  When Josh found the image, he looked up questioningly.

  “Lawrence Simpson and Louis Benton Browning,” she said. “My grandfather and his identical twin. Uncle Simpson is the man on the left. If you look closely, you’ll see his Masonic watch fob. So I put the question to you again: Why do you have his pocketwatch?”

  Drawing in a long breath, Josh plunged ahead. “I took it off his body in the cave at Baxter’s Draw this afternoon.”

  Elizabeth sat silent for a moment, and then said, “So, the story is true.”

  “You knew?” Josh asked in surprise.

  “I knew what my grandfather believed to be true,” she answered. “That Daniel Baxter killed Uncle Simpson and that somehow his disappearance was linked to the infamous transfer of Baxter’s Draw to the Lockwoods. My grandfather and Houston Baxter played chess together. Grandfather always said that he believed the Baxters were in some way blackmailed and that the poker game was nothing but a ruse. According to him, Houston said the Lockwoods could ‘have the damned draw and everything that goes with it.’”

  “That’s what I’ve been told, too.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “By whom?”

  “A woman named Retta Thornton," Josh said. "She says her father was a fundamentalist minister.”

  “He was a religious fanatic,” Elizabeth replied, her voice taking on an edge. “I believe you’re talking about Loretta Williams. How does she know anything about Simpson’s death?”

  Josh hesitated, scrubbing uncertainly at his jaw.

  "You've come to me," Elizabeth pointed out. "I assume because there's something you want to tell me. By showing me the watch, you've rather taken the lid off Pandora's box, wouldn't you say?"

  "Yes," Josh admitted, "but it's a long story."

  "My age notwithstanding, time is a commodity I enjoy in rich abundance," the old woman said, with a smile more ironic than bitter.

  In spite of the nervousness tearing at his gut, Josh smiled. "Telling you everything is a huge risk for me," he said. "Will you hear me out before you pass judgment on me?”

  “I am not in a position to judge anyone,” Elizabeth said. “Tell your story.”

  Josh left nothing out. He related everything Retta told him and described the full extent of his involvement with Robert Marino. When he finished speaking, Elizabeth asked, “Why come to me with all this?”

  “You know what it is to live with a secret,” Josh said. “And you’re the only person I can think of who knows the history of the Baxters and the Lockwoods.”

  She studied him intently. “What, exactly, are you trying to accomplish?”

  Without hesitation he said, “I want to save the Rocking L for Jenny and I don’t want her to ever know any of the things I’ve done.”

  “The first goal may be achievable,” Elizabeth replied, “but there is no guarantee of the second.”

  Josh looked down at the rug and said nothing.

  “You really love her, don’t you?” Elizabeth asked gently.

  At that, Josh raised his head. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I do.”

  “You are going to need to answer some questions for me before I agree to help you."

  “Of course,” he said. “Ask me anything. I won’t lie to you.”

  “Did you kill Langston?”

  “No, ma’am. Langston committed suicide.”

  “Did you kill John Fisk?”

  “No, but I helped the man who did pick the location to make the hit and I told him when John Fisk would be on the ranch.”

  Elizabeth nodded and went on. “Are you in any way responsible for Katherine’s injury?”

  Josh shook his head. “No. Marino’s operative went rogue. Even Marino didn’t intend for that to happen.”

  “What was your role in the events leading up to the collapse of the cave?”

  “I set Marino up,” Josh said. “I could have warned him that Jessica Northrup was feeding him false information, but I didn’t.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “But you couldn’t have known Kate was going to shoot him.”

  “I didn’t. I paid Miles Riley to do that," Josh confessed. "Kate surprised us all when she pulled that derringer on Marino. The cave collapse was completely unexpected.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I would have thought you might have learned by now not to underestimate the Lockwood sisters,” she said. “So in essence, the pieces fell neatly in place. You got away with everything until Jenny witnessed your little temper tantrum in the barn.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “Mandy told me,” Elizabeth said. “We've become quite close. Her miscarriage and Jolene Wilson's death devastated the poor child. Jenny's flight from the ranch in the dark of the night terrified Mandy. I tried to be of some comfort to her. Surely you understand the bond those girls share.”

  Josh sighed. "I'm not sure I do," he said. "Another of my many failings. So, you know everything. Do you have any idea what I can do to stop Retta Thornton and Rafe Jackson?”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "I should think that would be quite obvious," she said. “Tell the Lockwood sisters everything you’ve just told me.”

  The stark honesty of the suggestion seemed to hang suspended in the air between them. “I can’t do that,” Josh said finally.

  “Because of your desire to hide the truth of your actions from Jenny?” Elizabeth asked. "Does that mean more to you than helping her save the Rocking L?"

  “Maybe it does,” Josh said in a tired voice, “but even if I did give Jenny and her sisters all this information, it wouldn’t stop Retta and Rafe. They’d still go after the land, they’d just do it a different way. Apparently the land squabbles between the Baxters and the Lockwoods go all the way back to the Republic of Texas.”

  “They do,” Elizabeth said. “The information that Retta told you about Collins Lockwood and Evans Baxter was all correct. She did not mention that my own great-great-grandfather was part of the equation as well.”

  Josh threw his hands up in consternation. “Is there no end to the interlocking family politics in this county?”

  “Land is an incestuous business,” Elizabeth said simply.

  “One that has apparently spawned plenty of bastards in this case,” he said bitterly.

  “Indeed it has,” she agreed. “I assure you, my late mother was a match for any of these men. None of my Browning antecedents owned more than a city lot. All our land was in Mother's name."

  "And who was she?"

  "A McAllister."

  "And they were?"

  "Hard-headed Scots with the good sense to keep their business affairs quiet," Elizabeth said. "They also came to this part of Texas as settlers on the Fisher-Miller land grant."

  "You clearly understand the history of all these transactions,” he said. "In all of those dealings, isn't there something I can use against Retta Thornton?"

  "My advice to you remains the same," Elizabeth said. "You must tell the truth about what you've done."

  Josh set his jaw. "I can't do that."

  "I believe it is more to the point to say that you will not do it."

  A red flush began to creep up Josh's neck, but he held his tongue. Elizabeth, seeing his effort at self-control, went on. "There is no need for you to display the famous Baxter temper," she said. "As I told you in the beginning of this conversation, I am in no position to judge anyone, nor do I have any intention of breaching your confidence. But I have listened to you, and now you will return the courtesy and listen to me."

  She stared at him without blinking until Josh gave her a curt nod of agreement. "That's better," Elizabeth said. "What I am about to say is purely the opinion of an old woman, but one who has lived with deceit for the majority of her life.
I believe you when you say that you love Jenny, but it is not the sort of love a woman like her wants or deserves.”

  When Josh started to protest she held up her hand. He fell silent again. “There is no escaping the fact that Jenny has never seen who you really are,” Elizabeth said. “And it is equally true that you do not want to fully reveal yourself to her. That is not the basis for a relationship. Jenny did not run away that night because she witnessed a grown man acting like a child. She ran away because her instinct told her that you have been staging a masquerade for quite some time. Can you deny the truth of that?"

  "No," Josh said tonelessly.

  "The problem you are facing is not so much that Jenny and the other Lockwoods will never trust you again, it is that you do not deserve their trust. I honestly believe Jenny has the capacity to forgive you, but not to the extent you desire."

  "You don't have to speak to me as if I've been dragged into the principal's office," Josh said sullenly.

  "I am speaking to you like you are a grown man who must now answer for the things he has done," Elizabeth countered. "If you cannot do that, then you are indeed no better than Langston."

  "Fine," Josh said. "You've made your point. But I still want to stop Retta and Rafe. Help me do that, and I'll leave this county and Jenny will never see or hear from me again."

  Elizabeth shook her head. "The truth will come out Josh," she said. "Wouldn't it be better for Jenny to hear it from you?"

  "I'm sorry I bothered you," he said, abruptly getting to his feet. "May I have the watch back?"

  The old woman made a dismissive, impatient sound in the back of her throat. "Sit down and stop being a tedious boor," she said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Josh sat down.

  "That will be quite enough histrionics out of you, young man," Elizabeth said irritably. "I didn't say I wouldn't help you. According to what you have told me, Retta Thornton cannot make a move until she has Uncle Simpson's body, which is going to take you a very long time to locate. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "The election isn't until May," Elizabeth said. "We have more than six months to arrive at a solution. Do whatever you need to do to stall your . . . associates . . . in the meantime."

  "What are you going to do?" Josh asked.

  "Research," she replied. "The Internet long ago gave me a life and associates well beyond the confines of these walls. I will do my best to discover a loophole or a counter move against this whole land development scheme. If it is allowed to evolve, it won't be just the Lockwoods and Baxters who are affected. I have no desire to see this countryside destroyed by a plague of weekend locust either."

  "Thank you," he said. "And the watch?"

  "For now it will stay here for safekeeping," Elizabeth said. "And there is one more thing."

  "What's that?" Josh asked.

  Elizabeth fixed him with a probing stare. "If you do one thing to hurt the Lockwood women or their interests, I will expose you for the fraud you are. And in case you think I am nothing more than a frail, crippled old woman, you are quite mistaken."

  Josh suddenly found himself looking down the long barrel of a Colt revolver that had been hidden under Elizabeth's lap robe throughout their conversation.

  He grew very still and chose his words with care. "I see the Lockwoods aren't the only women I shouldn't underestimate," he said. "I assure you, Elizabeth, I'm not going to harm them or you. I just want to clean up this business and go someplace far away where I can start over."

  "Then we understand one another," the old woman said, still holding the pistol steady in her blue-veined hand. "Now, if you will excuse me. It's time for my supper."

  121

  Joe Bob couldn't remember a time when the barbershop had been quite so low on current information. He purposefully went in to get a trim at a peak hour, but today the conversation among the men who sat sprawled around the tiny shop trended toward the coming hunting season and the general insanity of "damned city hunters."

  No one seemed to want to bring up Jenny's breakup with Josh, although Joe Bob knew it would be a topic for debate were he not sitting there. When his turn came to ascend to the throne-like red leather chair he'd first climbed into at age 3, Joe Bob took the initiative. "So anybody else hear that Josh Baxter is hanging out most nights at the Bucket?"

  It was like dropping a quarter in a jukebox. Soon, Joe Bob was privy to what brands of beer and bourbon Josh favored, which he knew already, and exactly how much the man consumed nightly. Since most rumors in town multiplied by a factor of ten per city block, Joe Bob discounted the reports, which, had they been true, would have made Josh a candidate for a long stay at the Betty Ford Clinic.

  Finally, old Melvin Dexter piped in and said, "Can't figure out why in God's name that Baxter boy would be sitting down to supper with the high and mighty Rafe Jackson though."

  Joe Bob feigned surprise. "Where'd you hear that?" he asked.

  "Saw it with my own eyes," Melvin said. "Since the missus died I eat my supper at the cafe every night at 6:30 on the dot. Saw the pair of them come in and go all the way to the back of the dining room like they had something important to talk about."

  Spencer Secrest rattled his newspaper and said, "Boy's a Baxter. They never hang on to money for long. I imagine he was trying to talk Rafe into giving him a loan. Might as well try to get blood out of a turnip."

  Before Joe Bob could say anything, his cell phone rang. "Excuse me, Oscar," he said to the barber. "Let me see what that's about."

  To his surprise, County Clerk Mae Ella Gormley's voice crackled over the line. "Joe Bob," she said, "you better get your butt back to your office. Some woman named Retta Thornton just filed to run against you in the election."

  Frowning, Joe Bob said, "Who in the world is Retta Thornton?"

  From across the room, Spencer shook his paper again, and without taking his eyes off the livestock section, said, "Rafe Jackson's new girlfriend."

  As Joe Bob walked up the sidewalk to the courthouse he took out his handkerchief and scrubbed at the back of his neck. The small bits of hair clinging to his skin created an uncomfortable itching sensation at his collar line. Oscar had barely managed to trim the back before Joe Bob tossed a few dollar bills on the counter and headed for the door. What little talcum powder had made it to his neck was delivered on the run in hit-or-miss fashion.

  On the drive to his office, Joe Bob tried to call Mandy, Kate, and Jenny, each in turn, but none of them picked up. It was just as well they didn't, however, since the day's surprises were far from over. No sooner had he stepped in the door than Jinx Brewer turned from putting her possessions in a cardboard box and announced, "I quit."

  "You what?" Joe Bob asked, flustered. "Why?"

  "Conflict of interest," she snapped.

  "Over what?"

  "Retta Thornton is my sister," Jinx said. "I can't be working for you and running her campaign at the same time." She carefully placed an anemic looking Christmas cactus atop the pile of items in the box, picked up the container, and brushed past Joe Bob.

  At the door she paused and looked back at the tiny reception area. "I can't wait for Retta to get in here," she said thoughtfully. "This place has needed painting for three years."

  With that, she turned on her heel and marched out, leaving Joe Bob to listen to her fading footsteps with a look of stunned perplexion on his features. He was still standing rooted in the same spot when his cell phone rang.

  When he answered with a weak “hello,” Kate said, "Hey. Sorry I missed your call. What's up?"

  "I have an opponent in the election," Joe Bob said woodenly.

  "Damn. I'm sorry, Joe Bob. Who is it?"

  "Retta Thornton."

  "Who in the hell is Retta Thornton?" Kate asked.

  "I honestly don't know," Joe Bob stammered. "But the talk at the barber shop is that she's Rafe's girlfriend. And Jinx Brewer just quit on me to run this woman's campaign because apparently they're sisters."r />
  The line went deadly quiet.

  "Katie?" Joe Bob said uncertainly. "Are you still there?"

  "I'm here," Kate said. "Can you come back to the ranch?"

  "Sure," he said. "But why?"

  “Because your new opponent is trouble in more ways than one.”

  Jenny frowned. “Loretta Williams?” she said. “Homely Loretta Williams with the baggy dresses and the bad glasses?”

  She, Kate, Mandy, and Joe Bob were seated under the cabana by the pool. The two Border Collie puppies were sound asleep at Mandy's feet. The idea might have been to get the dogs for Sissy and Missy, but the pups fell instantly in love with Mandy. The mischievous duo followed her every step, staring up at her with complete and total devotion.

  The girls christened the dogs Jasmine and Rapunzel after two of the Disney princesses, but Kate instantly started calling them Jazz and Rap. The puppies now answered to their nicknames, and Joe Bob teased Mandy that come spring they’d add Blues and Soul.

  “Joe Bob Mason,” she threatened him. “You show up with two more dogs and you’ll be sleeping in the garage for the rest of your life.”

  “Aw, come on honey,” he teased. “If we’re gonna have a pack of kids, we might as well have a pack of hounds to go with them.”

  “A Border Collie is not a hound,” Mandy said sternly, but she couldn’t keep herself from giggling. At her last checkup, the doctor pronounced Mandy completely recovered from her miscarriage. Although she and Joe Bob agreed that Sissy and Missy needed to be more settled before they brought a baby into the mix, just knowing they could try again filled them both with joyful anticipation.

  Kate handed a 1990 high school yearbook to Jenny. “Bottom row. Last photo before Skeeter Williamson.”

  As Jenny took the book, she said, “Why do you have this? You were in the 8th grade in 1990.”

  “Ag class was low that year, so they let us 8th graders in,” Kate said. “That meant I could join the FFA.”

  “Thus making that damned blue corduroy jacket your major high school fashion statement,” Jenny said, peering at the yearbook page.

  “I’d still wear it if it fit,” Kate deadpanned.