The Lady and the Robber Baron

by Joyce Brandon

  “You know, I had a hard time forgetting or forgiving you for what happened with your dance partner…”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I told you I’d never be able to forgive that, and that I don’t give any woman two chances at me…”

  “I know, and I understand.”

  “Well, I just wanted to tell you that I might have been a little bullheaded…”

  “No, you were right.”

  “A little too bullheaded…”

  “You were entitled, and you were right. You see, I found the letter from Latitia—”

  “Jesus.” He cursed himself for forgetting to burn the letter.

  “I was in so much pain that I realized why you can’t forgive me, why you’ll never be able to forgive me—”

  “Jennie—”

  “I know now that you’re right about fidelity and trust. I accept it.”

  Chane reached out as if he would touch her. Jennifer flung his hand away. “Don’t touch me. It’s too late for touching and making up. I’ve been wrong about everything. I was even wrong about being wrong. I didn’t make a decision to cheat on you. It just happened. I thought Frederick was my friend. I believed the terrible things he was saying about you. I’m not even smart enough to pick decent friends, or recognize lies when I hear them.”

  She threw one of her gowns into the trunk and stalked back into her sleeping compartment. She grabbed another gown, wadded it up, and threw it at the trunk. “I didn’t mean to cheat on you, Chantry Kincaid. I thought you had killed my brother. I was punishing myself for ever marrying you.”

  She grabbed another gown and threw it. The gown missed its mark and landed on Chane. He carried it back to the closet. Jennifer grabbed it out of his hands, wadded it up, and threw it as hard as she could.

  “Leave my gowns alone! I don’t want your help!”

  “Jennie, we need to talk.”

  “It’s too late! You don’t trust me, and you never will. You’ll just blow yourself into a million pieces someday, and everyone but me will wonder how a smart man like Chantry Kincaid could have done such a stupid thing.”

  “Chane! Chane!” A familiar voice from outside caused Chane to stop, turn, and peer through the window.

  Jennifer glanced around Chane’s broad shoulder. A tall, still handsome, elderly man and woman stood on the ground, peering up toward the Pullman coach.

  “My parents,” he said grimly. “Can’t this wait until after they leave?” he asked, lifting the trunk and carrying it into her sleeping compartment. “I’m sure they won’t stay long.”

  Jennifer wanted to leave now, while she had the courage, but it would be too awkward with them just arriving. She checked the mirror. Her hair was combed and her face clean. That was the most she could hope for today. Nothing else had gone right.

  Chane put the trunk down and faced her, his eyes dark with pain. “Jennie, I promise you that what happened with Latitia was an act of blind desperation. She forced herself on me. Even so, I behaved like an animal, and I’ve never been sorrier about anything in my life.”

  “And you still couldn’t forgive me—”

  “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me, but I am trying my best to get over it,” he said, his eyes pleading with her. “Please stay.”

  His parents walked up the steps and stopped at the door. Jennifer braced herself. Chane walked to the door and opened it. “Mom. Dad. Come in. Come in.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Their first meal with his parents was one of the most strained Chane ever remembered. He was glad to learn his mother’s health problem had cleared up and that both his parents were healthy and happy. But he wished they would just leave so he could get back to his argument with Jennie, who surprised him by being absolutely enchanting to his parents—and enchanted by them. She especially liked his mother, who was being equally charming and saying all the right things.

  Radiant and possessive, his mother smiled frequently at his father, who seemed to swell with pride every time she looked at him. She was either touching him or adoring him with her eyes. His father was more subtle, but it was apparent they were very much in love. It almost hurt to look at them. Chane wished he could ask his parents for the secret to their happy marriage.

  A week went by, and the elder Kincaids showed no sign of leaving. They appeared content to watch the work progressing, to take long walks in the daytime, and to sit on the observation deck of their luxurious Pullman coach in the evening, holding hands until bedtime.

  Jennifer told Chane she wanted to leave, but he was no help. “Wait, Jennie, please. They’ll be gone any day now.”

  Ten days after they had arrived, they were still there. Chane’s crews were well over Raton Pass and starting down the other side. The surveyors had laid out another series of zigzag switchback wyes to make the descent gradual enough.

  That night, Chane fished into his pocket and handed Jennifer a letter. She unfolded it and looked at Tom Wilcox’s signature. Hoping for news of Peter, she read quickly.

  The letter explained many things, but the only thing it said about Peter was that they hadn’t found him yet; Wilcox was still looking.

  However, it also said that the letters Derek Wharton had “found” and pinned so much weight on—from Chane about the proxies, and from Reginald about the bankruptcy—were forgeries planted to throw suspicion onto Chane. Wilcox’s staff had petitioned the bankruptcy judge into calling for an inventory of the Van Vleet estate, and they had discovered in excess of $4,000,000 in assets. Tom said that the Van Vleet attorney, Ward Berringer, had been hiding assets and systematically plundering the estate. Tom felt certain that a thorough audit could sort it all out. In time, the entire estate and its value would be restored to the heirs.

  “Then Peter and I are not bankrupt!”

  “No. Far from it.”

  It took a moment for the actuality of wealth to sink in. “As soon as I have cash available to me, I want to repay you for all of the money you expended in paying our debts.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. I need to do that.”

  “That’s water under the bridge, Jennie. And I don’t need your money. My grandfather left me with more money than I can ever spend, unless I decide to build another railroad. Besides,” he said, his voice lowering into gruffness, “it pleased me to pay your debts.”

  For a moment, Jennifer thought Chane was going to say more. He shook his head and stood up to walk toward his sleeping compartment. “Good night,” she said softly.

  “Good night.”

  The next day, Elizabeth Kincaid invited Jennifer to walk with her. The day was so beautiful, the warm sun and clear air so invigorating, they walked up the side of the mountain almost to the top. With the camp below, they sat down to rest. The men looked like ants swarming over the fresh cut in the earth.

  “I’d like to ask a personal question,” Elizabeth said.

  Jennie shrugged. “All right.”

  “A very personal question.”

  Jennifer flashed a quick look at her mother-in-law. Elizabeth’s blue eyes were friendly and loving.

  “All right.”

  “What happened to cause the estrangement between you and Chane?”

  Jennifer leaned down and picked up a pinecone from the matted pine needles underfoot. Chane would not appreciate her sharing their private business with his mother, but she could see no reason not to. The marriage was over. In spite of all that had happened, Chane couldn’t forgive her. “I disappointed him. I guess I betrayed him, and our love.”

  “How?”

  “I thought Chane had had my brother beaten. I was confused. I did the unforgivable. I gave in to the advances of another man.”

  “You’ve been wonderfully candid with me, Jennifer. I want to thank you for that. I hope you don’t think I was prying with my questions?”

  “You may ask anything you like. I have nothing to hide. The only man in the world whose opinion matters knows everything and c
an’t forgive me.”

  “He’s a Kincaid, all right,” Elizabeth said grimly.

  Elizabeth could not get the conversation with Jennifer out of her mind. That night when she and Chantry were in bed in their own parlor car, she turned to her husband. “Dear…”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I want you to tell Chane about our problem.”

  “What?” he growled, his eyes blinking open in astonishment.

  “I want you to tell Chane about our problem.”

  “Dammit, woman, I’ll do no such thing.”

  “If you don’t, he and Jennie will divorce shortly.”

  “Go to sleep. You shouldn’t be meddling in those young people’s lives. If they divorce, they divorce.”

  “But she’s a wonderful young woman. I love her.”

  “You love everyone.”

  “Chantry, please.”

  “No. I’d feel like a fool.”

  “Better you should feel like a fool than those two lovers should part.”

  “I can’t imagine where you get the idea that hearing about our problem would make a hill of beans of difference to Chane. He knows what he’s about. He’s built a fine railroad and beat the Commodore. My father would have been proud of him. He’s got guts. You don’t appreciate your son. That young man can do anything.”

  “Except make his wife happy. Are you going to tell him?”

  “No.”

  In frustration, Elizabeth turned over and closed her eyes. Kincaid men. They should be tortured periodically by professionals.

  Chane had decided his parents were going to stay forever. His mother had apparently fallen in love with Colorado and with Jennie. They took long walks every day. At times it seemed a strategy on Jennie’s part to stay out of his way. At first he had avoided her. Now she avoided him.

  Just as he had decided not to worry about their staying, his parents announced at dinner that they would be leaving the next day. Chane looked quickly at Jennie to gauge her reaction.

  Jennifer looked down at her plate. The food no longer seemed appetizing to her. Her heart beat harder and faster. She glanced up. Chane’s eyes were dark and searching. She looked away to control the trembling that had begun in her midsection. After the Kincaids left, she would have no choice but to pack and leave, too.

  “Jennie, love…” Elizabeth said, with the same tenderness Chane had used in the old days, when he had loved her. A flush started deep inside Jennifer and crept up to her cheeks. Panic seized her. She felt as though she were about to cry in front of everyone.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you, dear…”

  “You didn’t, I was just—”

  “You look lovely, startled. I was just wondering if you might like to come with us?”

  “Come with you?” Jennifer panicked. “To New York?”

  “Yes, dear. You could do some shopping and come back in a month or so. It would give you a chance to meet members of our family you didn’t meet when my son rushed you off to the wilds of Colorado. Actually, you could both come. Almost anyone could take over as superintendent now.”

  Chane pushed his plate away. “I can’t leave the railroad now. A thousand things can still go wrong, but Jennie might enjoy a vacation.”

  Jennifer put her napkin on the table. Chane looked guilty. Perhaps he had put his mother up to this to ease her out quietly, she thought, so he wouldn’t have to deal with her.

  “Why, yes, I guess I could,” Jennifer said. She waited for Chane’s response, but he merely looked from her to his mother and down at his plate.

  Elizabeth clapped her hands in enthusiasm. “Wonderful, my dear! Can you be packed by tomorrow morning?”

  That seemed much too soon to leave. Jennifer felt sick. “Yes, I’m sure I can.”

  “Good! What fun we’ll have. I haven’t shopped in New York for months.”

  Disgusted about something, his mouth twisted with chagrin, Chantry Two shook his head. “I’m surprised there’s a shop still open, considering your absence. The economy must be stronger than I thought.”

  Elizabeth leaned over and kissed her husband. She looked delighted with the way things had worked out. An ache started in Jennifer’s chest. By this time tomorrow she’d be on her way to New York. At least she wouldn’t have to travel alone or on those hard wooden seats. The Kincaids’ parlor car was one of the most luxurious she’d ever seen.

  Chantry Two took Elizabeth aside as soon as he could arrange it. “Lizzy, dammit, whatever possessed you to ask that young woman to come with us? You know damned good and well if she goes, she won’t come back.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, why on earth—”

  “Your son is as stubborn as you are. She might as well go back to New York in comfort.”

  “If you’d left her here, they might have worked it out.”

  “Not a chance. They’ve had months to do that.”

  Chantry shook his head in disgust. “You did this to force me to talk to him, didn’t you, Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth opened her eyes wide in innocent indignation. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing,” she said, walking away from him. Then she turned and fixed him with a piercing look. “I know how stubborn you are. You’d let your son lose that wonderful young woman, and you wouldn’t raise a finger.”

  “You’re not going to blackmail me into a thing,” he shouted after her.

  “It couldn’t be done, Chantry Kincaid. I know that better than anyone.”

  “Damnation!”

  Jennifer sat by the open window. The night was relatively warm for the mountains. The scent of pine reminded her suddenly of the atrium at the Bricewood East and happy moments with Chane. The Kincaids had retired to their parlor car. Chane had excused himself and walked toward the office car. Cooky walked from the kitchen and bowed to her.

  “I finish dishes, Missy Kincaid.” He bowed again and touched his forehead. “Good night, Missy Kincaid.”

  “Good night, Cooky. Thank you.”

  Alone at last, Jennifer pulled out her trunk and started to pack. She felt worse than she’d ever felt in her life. Chane was just going to let her go. He wasn’t going to try to talk her out of it. She felt too dispirited to be angry. She figured out what she would wear tomorrow, then took her other gowns down, folded them carefully, and placed them in the trunk.

  Elizabeth was in the lavatory getting ready for bed. Chantry Two stepped back outside and leaned against a tree trunk, hesitant to call it a night. Inside his son’s Pullman coach, Jennifer was packing. Lizzy blamed him for that, but he wasn’t about to tell his son about their problem. Lizzy had been wrong to put him in this spot.

  The crunch of gravel underfoot caused Chantry to pull back into the shadows. As he watched, his son slowed his step, paused, and peered longingly at the window, watching his wife packing her gowns.

  “Go to her, son,” Chantry Two wanted to tell his son. “Tell her it doesn’t matter. Tell her that only love matters. Dammit, it’s obvious to me and your mother that you love her. Why the hell isn’t it obvious to you?”

  Chane had paused so long, Chantry thought his son had turned to salt. “Go to her,” his mind fairly cried out. “For God’s sake, boy. She’s your wife. Women make mistakes, too. Where the hell did you get such a stubborn streak?”

  Now, Chane turned back toward the office car and entered it. Chantry waited a long time for him to come out. Finally, he walked to the office car and looked in. Chane was sitting alone in the dark.

  “Would you like to take a short walk, son?”

  Chane stood up. His parents would be leaving tomorrow. He’d forgotten that, in light of Jennie’s leaving. It might be his last chance to visit with his father. “Yes, sir.”

  They headed up the tracks. In silence, Chane walked the ties the way he had in Texas, as a child walking to school. Somehow, walking them beside his father made him feel young and foolish. He stepped off to the side and walked in the gravel, which was noisier and more difficul
t. His father continued to walk the ties.

  After a while Chantry Two sat down on a rock beside the rails to rest. Night birds warbled in the brush.

  “So, why is your wife leaving you?”

  Chane kicked at a rock in front of his foot. He couldn’t believe his father would ask such a question, especially after his mother had been the one to instigate it. It puzzled him into silence. Also, he hadn’t thought his father would understand the significance of Jennie’s leaving. He didn’t like the idea of telling his father his and Jennie’s business. He felt certain that if their roles were reversed, his father would never tell.

  Chantry Two expelled a heavy breath. “Lizzy was right about you,” he said heavily. “You’re too damned stubborn for your own good.” He paused a moment and then plunged ahead. “Your mother almost left me six months ago. But thanks to your willingness to take over this project, I was able to talk her out of it.”

  Chane picked up a pinecone and ripped off one of the scales. “Why did she want to leave you?”

  “Found another man. Thought she was in love with him.”

  Chane couldn’t believe his father was telling him this, as if it were just any fact.

  “I don’t think he was as good in bed as I am, though.”

  Chane coughed. His father looked over at him. “Have I shocked you, son?”

  “No, sir,” he said, lying manfully.

  “Well, you’re married now. I guess you’re old enough and experienced enough to take life straight. Your mother had an affair this past summer. I’ll spare you the details. It’s enough to say that we talked, and I asked her to give me another chance.”

  “Give you another chance?” Chane asked incredulously.

  “I hadn’t been spending nearly enough time with her. She got so damned lonely, she was easy prey for a man who was smart enough to see what a beautiful and charming woman she is.”

  Chane was too stunned to reply.

  “We went to the Mediterranean and spent the last few months getting to know one another again.”