"Even though it does have a bathtub,” she added, smiling mischievously at what had once seemed the ultimate betrayal.
"I never said it didn't,” he replied defensively.
"I realize that. I forgive you."
"About the bathtub?"
"About everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything, Travis. I love you very much."
"Oh, sweetheart.” His arms tightened around her. “I'm going to make you so happy."
Epilogue
Beaumont, Texas
April, 1902
"A gusher sold for as little as eight thousand dollars in January and February, but I got nine hundred thousand for mine before the prices crashed,” said Jessica with great satisfaction.
"Nine hundred thousand dollars? Good grief!” exclaimed Anne Harte. She and Justin had come to Beaumont for the birth of their first grandchild.
"Jessica is as much responsible for the drop in well prices as Hogg and Swayne,” said Travis, grinning at her.
"What nonsense!” she replied, grinning back. It was an old argument between them.
"Well, I'm not the one who let the derricks go up every twenty feet and drove the price of oil down to nothing,” said Travis virtuously.
"I hope you have a good doctor, Jessica,” said Anne.
"The man's an idiot,” Travis complained. “I told him she was to have ether for the delivery, and he told me it was a woman's lot to suffer in childbirth."
"Ether?” exclaimed Anne, alarmed.
"Oh, I know, Mother. I opposed it myself at first,” said Jessica soothingly, “but when that stupid doctor started telling me about paying for the sins of Eve, it was really too much. I told him I agreed with Travis and asked if he was afraid people would accuse him of having his wicked way with me while I was unconscious.” Jessica laughed merrily. “That shut him up. He was horrified."
"I should think so,” said Justin.
"But ether?” Anne looked very dubious.
"If it's good enough for Queen Victoria, it's good enough for Jessie,” said Travis. “I won't have her going through that sort of pain when it's unnecessary. Jessica controls the dosage herself—holds the bottle and the handkerchief. When she loses consciousness, her hand will fall away naturally. There's no danger whatever."
"Unless someone is smoking a cigar in the delivery room,” Jessica added.
Mother and daughter, peeking at each other, started to grin. “Would you like me to be there, Jessie?” Anne asked, trying to control her laughter.
"I think you should, Mother. Someone has to keep an eye out for cigars and improper conduct on the part of the doctor."
"Jessica,” said Justin, “childbirth is not a matter for humor. Your husband, at least, takes the situation seriously. Why, when your mother had Frannie...” Justin cut himself off because his wife had lost control of her enforced solemnity once more. “Anne, what are you laughing at?” he asked.
Anne wiped the smile from her face, but Jessica had started to giggle. Both of them remembered that Justin had been frantic with worry during Frannie's birth, while Anne, who had already borne twin sons under the worst of circumstances, had taken her confinement with complete calm once the doctor insisted that Justin and his cigar leave the house and stop upsetting everyone.
Trying to look properly solemn, Anne murmured, “Travis, would you mind passing the lima beans?"
They were dining in the house on Calder Avenue, which Travis had repurchased from the neighborhood committee once he managed to convince them that he did not intend to let his pregnant wife live next to an oil well.
"Jessie told me you're Will Parnell's son,” Justin remarked. Jessica had finally gone into labor. Anne, Rainee, and the reluctant doctor were with her in the large corner bedroom upstairs. Justin and Travis had been banished to Travis's study.
"That's right.” Travis didn't want to talk about his father, who could now, he hoped, rest in peace.
"Will and I were friends,” said Justin, “had been since we were boys."
Finally Travis remembered something that had hovered at the edge of his mind the first time he met Justin Harte, something obscured for years by the more vivid recollections of Hugh and Penelope. His father had said to Hugh Gresham, “Justin won't let you do this.” So this was the man Will Parnell had hoped would save him from Hugh's plotting.
"I thought a lot of Will,” said Justin, “although I didn't see much of him after Anne and I got married. He was ranching in Jack County by then. I still had land in Palo Pinto in the ‘80s, but I was spending most of my time in Weatherford and Mitchell County ... even some time out of state.” Justin leaned back in his chair and gave Travis a somber look. “I'd like to hear what happened to Will."
"He got caught between Cattleman's Bank and the fence cutters,” said Travis.
"Well, I know about the fence cutting. Had some of my own cut in ‘83 when the drought got bad; cost a lot of money."
Travis nodded, remembering the fury of the open-range cattlemen, who cut fences to get their stock to water and left hanged effigies and roughly painted threats by the uprooted fence posts. “Then Gresham called his notes, most of them loans Hugh had talked him into. Pa just gave up when he heard that Cattleman's wouldn't stand by him."
"And then?"
"He shot himself.” Travis felt the old bleakness settle over him once more. “I found him."
"Jessie told me. What happened after that?"
"The hotel owner took what money we'd brought with us to pay the bill, and I ended up on the street."
"There had to be something left besides what Will had in his pockets,” said Justin, frowning. “His land must have been worth more than his notes. And there was bound to be stock."
"All I ever got was his rabies stone, and Joe Ray Brock gave me that four years later when he found me and took me back to Lubbock County."
"I remember that stone. Your father swore it saved his life when he was bit by a wild dog up on the Llano Estacado. But what happened to the rest of the property?"
"Joe Ray said the bank took it. Maybe you profited, being a shareholder. I never saw a penny."
"Your father's debts were paid off after his death. Nothing else showed on the books. I remember seeing that at the stockholders’ meeting the end of ‘83,” mused Justin, his frown deepening.
"The whole idea of that bank, as far as I was concerned, was to carry ranchers through the bad years. Hugh didn't agree with me, but I usually got my way because I had a majority on the board. Still, I'll admit I didn't attend all the meetings in ‘83.” Justin brooded over the story he had just heard. “So you were out for revenge and used Jessie to get it."
"I did,” Travis admitted, “but I regretted it soon enough. For Jessie's sake, I'd stopped going after Hugh long before he was arrested."
"You must have loved my daughter pretty deeply to put aside that kind of hate."
"I did, and I do,” said Travis. “She's a woman in a million."
"So was her mother,” said Justin dryly.
Travis frowned, and his mouth tightened in anger.
"Oh, I don't mean Jessie's like Penelope, any more than sweet and smart is like stupid and vicious. Frankly, as far as I'm concerned, anything you managed to do to Penelope and Hugh was well deserved. Or were their troubles a matter of divine retribution?"
Travis laughed. “I can't take credit for everything that happened to them. In fact, your putting your bank shares on the market did a lot to bring him down. He had to raise the money to get them by—"
"Hugh bought my shares?” exclaimed Justin. “I didn't sell them to him."
"He used others to front for him, but he raised the money, and the way he did it brought them to grief—both him and Penelope.” Travis watched his father-in-law's slow grin.
"That bitch,” Justin muttered pleasantly. “It does my heart good to think she's in jail."
"Well, we agree on that,” said Travis.
"You realize, of cou
rse, that she and Hugh may well have stolen your inheritance?"
"I know it,” said Travis somberly, “but in the end I got something a lot more precious.” He sighed and studied his father-in-law thoughtfully. “I have a favor to ask—not for myself, for Jessie."
Justin's eyebrows shot up. “What's that?"
"You're an influential man. You know lots of judges and lawyers, right?"
Justin nodded cautiously.
"All it takes to get licensed to practice law in this state is a favorable investigation by a committee of three lawyers and the approval of the judge who appointed them. Henry Barnett could be on the committee. You can choose the judge and the other two lawyers."
"Well, I don't know."
"It's her heart's desire."
"I thought you were her heart's desire."
Travis laughed. “She just tolerates me."
"You sounded like your father just then,” said Justin. “I guess I can call in a few favors, since it's for Jessica."
At that moment Anne came down the stairs with a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms.
"Jessica—is she all right?” Travis asked anxiously. He couldn't believe that for a few minutes there he'd forgotten that his wife was upstairs having his child.
"Of course,” said Anne.
A smug expression spread over Travis's face. “We didn't hear a sound!” he exclaimed triumphantly as he peered down at the baby's face. “That means she felt no pain."
"The doctor felt no pain,” corrected Anne. “Jessica drifted off after a few sniffs of ether, flung the handkerchief in the doctor's face, and dropped the bottle. The doctor was anesthetized, and I delivered the baby."
Travis looked astounded.
"You have a son,” she informed him.
"So much for modern medicine,” said Justin, grinning. “What are you going to call him?"
Travis looked at his father-in-law for a long minute. “Would you like to name him?” Travis asked.
"Yes, I would,” said Justin. “How about Will Parnell?"
Pleased, Travis clapped Justin's shoulder warmly before taking young Will Parnell into his arms.
"I have a surprise for you,” Travis told Jessica.
She smiled at him dreamily from the comfort of her bed as she cuddled the new baby.
"You're going to get your license."
"What license?"
"To practice law. Your father's going to arrange for the judge and the committee."
"Oh, that's nice."
Travis looked disappointed at the casual reception his gift had met.
"It's very thoughtful of you and Papa,” she continued, “but I want a horseless carriage for my birthing present."
"Those things are dangerous!” Travis exclaimed.
"That's what you always say about oil wells,” she retorted. “For goodness sake, Travis, it's the age of petroleum. We oilmen have to set an example.” She shifted the baby and smiled down at him, then up at her husband. “You and I, love, are founding an oil dynasty here. We're no little shoestring outfit. We're going to make even Papa and the big cattle barons look like small potatoes."
Travis laughed delightedly. His father would have adored Jessica. “Well, when you put it that way, sweetheart, how can I refuse you a motorcar?” He bent over to kiss her. “Lord, Jess, I do love you. It scares me to death when I think that you might have refused to forgive me—ever."
"Oh, I couldn't have done that, Travis,” she replied, touching his mouth softly with a fingertip. “I fell in love with you at the dinner table the first night we met."
"Makes me a little slow, doesn't it?” Travis asked ruefully. “Do you forgive me?"
"Always,” she replied.
* * *
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