by Judith Pella
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you always so sure you’re right?”
“Oh, I’m right. Trust me; I’ve been around a touch longer than you, dear girl.”
She paused, studying him a moment, trying to fathom his eyes but finding them peculiarly expressionless. “What exactly did you mean about me being ‘yours’?”
“I meant, I know a good thing when I see it, and I’m not about to let anyone else muscle in on my discovery. And that reminds me, Carolyn,” he added quickly, obviously relieved to change the subject, “we have some unfinished business.”
“What’s that?”
Instead of an immediate answer, he took her hand and led her around to a secluded place behind the building. The hall was on the edge of town with the open ground surrounding it broken only by a few big mesquite bushes. A half moon illuminated the area a bit, but it was still quite dark. Except for the distinct sounds of the party filtering out from inside the building, it would have been downright eerie.
Carolyn’s heart pounded. She remembered that day in the corral and knew she ought to tell him to take her back to the dance. But she couldn’t get the words out. He stopped, pressed her back up against the building and, placing one of his strong hands on the wall and the other firmly around her waist, drew her to him. She knew she should resist, but his hand on her side was so warm, so urgent, so compelling. This time he made no attempt to tease or toy with her. His lips immediately sought hers, pressing against them with such passion that Carolyn could hardly breathe. His hot breath was nearly suffocating, and his hand groped for her.
She had never before been touched by a man in this way, and she knew it was wrong. But he was so forceful and strong, more than she could have imagined. His whole body pinned her against the wall again so that she could not move. She tried to speak, but his kisses prevented her.
She wrenched her head to one side. “Please, Sean!”
“You like it, dear,” he said, misinterpreting her words.
“Th—that’s not—I never—”
“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll show you what to do.”
“But I—”
“Come on. I know a place—”
“No. I can’t.”
He leaned away from her, and his eyes bored into hers. “This was meant to be, Carolyn. And you know you want it as much as I do. You can’t be the innocent cowgirl forever, you know.”
“Sean, I really like you, but I’m not ready for…well, that kind of relationship.”
“Oh, you’re ready, all right. You wouldn’t have come back here if you weren’t. But like most women, you have to play hard-to-get. That’s okay, I can play along.”
He pressed toward her once more. His lips engulfed hers and both his hands grasped her body. She squirmed and tried to move, but he was so strong. Again she twisted her neck, finally jerking her head free.
“No!” she cried, perhaps louder than she intended. “Please…Sean…!”
But he did not stop. He seemed only to take encouragement, even pleasure, from her struggles.
“Sean…”
His touch, which had once felt good, now hurt her. The sensations that had caused her to hunger for him now brought an ache to her stomach. She was no weak girl, yet she suddenly felt as helpless as a foal.
Was Sean right? Was this the way it really was supposed to be? Sean was so handsome, and being near him did such funny things to her, but—
“Hey!” came a voice out of the darkness. “What’s going on?”
Abruptly, Sean let go of Carolyn and spun around.
“Toliver?”
“What’re you doing here, Gentry?” Toliver’s voice was filled with violence and menace.
“Well, I heard someone calling, like they was hurt or something.”
“No one’s hurt—except maybe you in a minute!”
Carolyn took the opportunity to slip away from where she had been pinned against the wall. As she moved free of Toliver, Gentry saw for the first time who the foreman was with. He took it all in with sudden understanding.
“I was only trying to help,” he said.
“Well, go help someone else. I don’t need it,” said Sean.
Carolyn had an overpowering urge to thank Gentry for his timely intervention, but her pride—and embarrassment at being in such a position in the first place—forestalled her.
Instead, she said with as much poise as possible, “It’s time we got back to the dance, anyway, Sean. I’m powerfully hungry.”
Without looking back, she strode away toward the front of the hall.
40
Since Carolyn had only her horse for transportation, she went home from the dance with Mabel Vernon, the banker’s wife, who insisted on taking her in their buggy. Sean did not seem too thrilled about this prospect; he no doubt hoped to get Carolyn alone once more on the trail to the ranch. But Mrs. Vernon argued that Caleb would not want his granddaughter traipsing about the countryside at night on horseback, and not even properly chaperoned. Sean had to relent.
The next few days were quiet ones on the ranch. Carolyn didn’t see Sean at all because he had to go to Fort Worth on business and would be gone for a week. She and Ramón went riding a couple of times, and his presence helped alleviate Carolyn’s loneliness for her brother. She missed having Sky to talk to, and before she realized it, she was talking to Ramón as if he were an old friend. She confided in him about her confusion over the situation with her mother and grandfather. He again offered to help.
“If only you’d been old enough back then,” said Carolyn. “That’s what I need—a friend who was around then, someone willing to talk to me.”
“I’m sorry my mother was not much help to you.”
“I can understand. Even I can see my grandfather is not a man you’d want to cross. She has to look out for herself.”
“There must be something else you can do besides talk to people,” said Ramón.
Carolyn immediately thought of her conversation with Maria. Before she realized it, she was telling Ramón.
“I kind of feel funny searching my grandfather’s house, especially behind his back. But I know I can’t tell him.”
“Carolyn, I don’t think you have any choice.”
“But I need time, and my grandfather has been staying close to home lately.”
“Tomorrow night is the Cattlemen’s Association meeting. It’s once a month, and Señor Stoner never misses.”
“I don’t know…” But Carolyn did know, and she couldn’t put it off any longer. “I guess you’re right, I don’t have a choice. It’s for my ma.” And for the sake of learning the truth, she added to herself.
“I’ll keep a lookout for you if it makes you feel better to have an accomplice.”
She hated to involve Ramón, but the idea of his help made her feel immensely better.
The following night Caleb left for town shortly after dinner. Carolyn wanted to start her search immediately, but she forced herself to wait until Juana had cleaned up and left for the night. Ramón posted himself on the front porch of the house with instructions to whistle “The Yellow Rose of Texas” if anyone approached. He practiced a few bars, and though it was a bit off-key, it was at least good and loud.
Even with these precautions, Carolyn’s heart was pounding as she began her task. She skipped the kitchen and dining rooms as unlikely spots and went directly to the front parlor. Here, the only piece of furniture that could possibly hold secrets was a side table with a single drawer. The drawer was unlocked and filled only with table linens. There was nothing else in the parlor, so she headed toward the back sitting room.
Her father had been killed here, and Carolyn had not been in this room since her confrontation with Caleb some days ago. She was apprehensive about opening the door, but she did so with firm resolve. It looked much different now than it had when the sun streamed in through the French doors. Dark shadows instead of rays of sunlight slanted across the room. Now it was not hard for Carolyn t
o imagine a dead body sprawled out in front of the patio doors. Unconsciously, she glanced in that direction, shuddering.
She lit the lamp in the room, turning up the wick just enough to see. There was a small desk with a locked drawer, but without a key she could not open it. Perhaps Juana had keys? There was also a hutch cabinet, but the top part had glass doors and displayed only pieces of fine china and glassware. The hutch did not seem in keeping with the sparse, masculine air of most of the household furnishings, but Carolyn did not give it more than a moment’s consideration. Perhaps these things had belonged to her grandmother. One day Carolyn would look at them more closely, but she didn’t have time now.
The bottom of the hutch had a couple of drawers and another cabinet with wooden doors. Carolyn spent about ten minutes looking through them, for there were papers and other odds and ends in the drawers. There was nothing of interest, only a stack of magazines, a few letters that were mostly business related, and several old newspapers that Carolyn scrutinized briefly, finding all were dated years after her father’s death.
Carolyn’s next stop was Caleb’s study. She spent fifteen or more minutes in there. There were several locked cabinets and drawers. But now that she had taken on the role of a common prowler, she could not resist the temptation to look through the unlocked drawers. They yielded nothing interesting. She also shuffled through the few loose papers on Caleb’s desk. He kept a very organized office, and almost everything had been put away in the drawers. One thing that did catch her eye was a bill from Dr. Barrows for two office visits, totaling seven dollars. Both visits had occurred before Carolyn had arrived on the ranch. It made no mention of the nature of these visits, and suddenly Carolyn thought: It’s none of my business, anyway!
All at once she felt horrible for rifling through her grandfather’s private things. She tried to tell herself it was for her mother’s sake. But that didn’t quell the shaking of her hands. She hurried out of the office and went upstairs.
Besides her room and Caleb’s room, there were two guest rooms upstairs. Avoiding her grandfather’s room after her attack of conscience in his study, she went to a guest room. The first had the sparsest of furnishings and didn’t appear promising, but she doggedly looked in every drawer of the bureau and wardrobe. She sensed she’d also be wasting time with the other guest room. Caleb’s room had to be next.
She forced herself to walk to his door. Licking her lips nervously, she just stood there staring at the wood as if it were some adversary waiting to pounce upon her. Ramón had told her she had no choice, and she had told herself that many times since. But to invade her grandfather’s bedroom? That seemed even worse than rifling through his study, where at least he occasionally entertained guests.
Yet she knew that if the secrets Maria had hinted about were anywhere in the house, this was the most likely place. If she intended to learn the truth, she’d have to do this. But it wasn’t easy. Placing her hand on that knob was harder than grasping a hot branding iron. Nevertheless, she took a breath and began to turn the knob.
Suddenly the faint but distinct sound of “Yellow Rose of Texas” floated up toward her.
She froze, and her heart beat madly within her chest. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. But she jumped back from the door quickly and ran to her own room, hurrying inside as if fleeing from the devil himself. Not until she had shut her door, leaning against it, panting breathlessly, did she realize that it was much too early for Caleb to be returning from the meeting. Where she came from, the cattlemen’s meetings could last for hours, late into the night.
She waited five minutes. When her heart calmed and her head cleared, she went downstairs to see what had happened.
Ramón was nowhere in sight.
She found him by the back porch.
“I’m sorry, Carolyn. Someone rode into the yard,” Ramón explained.
“But didn’t my grandfather take the carriage?”
“I guess I jumped the gun. It was just one of the hands, but he was riding right toward the house. Turns out he thought it was mighty suspicious, someone hanging around the house like that. When he saw it was only me, he asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was looking for Juana. He reminded me, as if I didn’t know, that the Patrón didn’t like the hands hanging around the house. Told me to go around back. Did you finish your search?”
“No.”
“I’ll keep watching if you want to go back.”
“Are you kidding? I aged ten years when I heard that song! Maybe some other time. Besides, you’ll get into real trouble if anyone sees you out there again.”
“But what’ll you do?”
“I don’t know. I got through most of the rooms and didn’t find a thing. It’s probably a wild-goose chase, anyway.”
Back in her room that evening, all Carolyn could think of was that she was alone in the house and a prime opportunity was slipping through her fingers. About an hour after the scare, she had summoned up her nerve again and decided to give it another try, when she heard the carriage rumble into the yard.
Carolyn couldn’t shake the sense that she had failed not only herself but her mother as well. She resolved that at the next opportunity she’d search her grandfather’s room no matter what. This was no time for her to suddenly become fainthearted.
41
On Saturday, Carolyn and Caleb received an invitation from the Vernons, the banker’s family, to have dinner with them after church on Sunday.
At breakfast on Sunday morning, Caleb said, “I’m not up to accepting the Vernons’ invitation, but you go ahead.”
He did indeed look tired, even a bit pale. He insisted that she go and enjoy herself, and she saw no reason to stay. She had Ramón get the carriage ready, because she could hardly go to church in riding garb, and she left immediately after the morning meal.
The Vernons were good people. Mr. Vernon was a bit stodgy, but he left the ladies alone most of the time after church. Mabel and her daughter, Barbara, were likable, talkative and friendly, and Carolyn enjoyed their company—especially since she so seldom had the opportunity to interact with women. It was even rarer for her to have a female acquaintance of her own age.
When Mabel left for a few moments to attend to some matters in the kitchen of their large and affluent house, Barbara eagerly lapsed into typical girl-talk—a new experience for Carolyn.
“That foreman at the Bar S is ever so handsome,” Barbara said dreamily. “And he seemed absolutely stuck on you at the dance last week!”
“It must have been that pretty dress of yours, Barbara.”
“No, it was the way you looked in it.”
Carolyn squirmed uncomfortably. Today she was wearing only a simple skirt and blouse, and her hair was back in its single braid. “Well, I’m as unused to looking like that as I am to having a man like Sean pay such attention to me.”
“Get used to it, Carolyn. Around here, with so few girls, there’s bound to be scads of fellows after you. Even I couldn’t shake them if I wanted—not that I want to!”
“What do you mean, ‘even I’? You’re a sight prettier than me. I’d give anything to have beautiful blond hair like yours. My ma’s hair is that color, but I got this mousy brown stuff.”
“I’d like to be a couple of sizes smaller, though.”
“Oh, girls!” Mrs. Vernon said as she reentered the parlor. “There’s not a woman alive who’s satisfied with her looks. But you are both as lovely as any man could wish for.”
“That’s what mothers are supposed to say,” said Carolyn. “My ma says the same thing.”
Mabel Vernon sat down next to her daughter, but she looked wistfully at Carolyn. “Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I have known,” she said, “and you resemble her remarkably.”
“You knew my ma?”
“Yes, of course. My husband has been banker here since before the War Between the States.”
“Really?”
“I can’t sa
y I knew her well. She kept to herself most of the time. But she was such a lovely, tragic woman. I have always felt so bad about what happened to her. And now, to have it happen all over again…” Mabel sighed, then reached over and laid sympathetic hands on Carolyn’s. “I want you to know, Carolyn, that if there is anything I can do for you—or your mother—feel free to call upon me.”
“You would help my mother?”
“Perhaps that is an empty statement, because I doubt there is a thing I could do, but, yes, I would if I could.”
“Aren’t you worried about getting my grandfather riled at you for even sympathizing with her?”
“Certainly he can’t still hold a grudge. I assumed that because of you he would have softened.”
Carolyn shook her head. “No, ma’am. He’s just as determined as ever to see my ma hanged. The only way I can possibly change him is to prove that my ma is innocent.”
“But can you? Is it possible?”
“It’s gotta be possible because she is innocent.”
“I know how you must feel, Carolyn, because she is your mother. But the decision of the court—”
“Don’t you think a court can make a mistake?” Carolyn asked fervently. “Don’t you think the court might have been a mite prejudiced because of Caleb’s influence?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But why would Caleb try to influence the court against his own daughter-in-law?”
“You don’t know much about what happened, then, Mrs. Vernon.”
“I testified at the trial, but I must admit my husband requested that beyond that, I not attend the proceedings because he felt the nature of the affair was unfit for the ears of a genteel lady. I was much younger then and apt to be rather compliant to my husband’s wishes.” She smiled. “He says I’ve changed in my later years and can be downright headstrong at times!”
Carolyn hardly heard the last part of Mrs. Vernon’s statement, and she could barely wait till the woman finished before anxiously asking, “You testified? Why was that, Mrs. Vernon? I thought you didn’t know my mother well.”
