She stared at him in disbelief. “Do what to you? I’m the one who has been hurt, Chad, not you! How can you expect me just to instantly forgive you and fall back into your arms?”
“I don’t! But I’m your husband, and you’re my wife. Sometimes men stray, Irene, but not wives—not unless they’re whores!”
A sickening feeling engulfed her, along with a rage she had never felt before. “Is that what you’re calling me?” she asked, sitting up slightly.
He let go of her. “I’m only saying that’s what wives are who sleep with other men.”
“Does Milicent Delaney know you consider her a whore?” He turned away. “How dare you even use that word around me?” she seethed. “How dare you talk to me of wives who stray! All these years I’ve suspected what you were doing, put up with it, did my best to be a good wife to you! You know better than to even think I would cheat on you! And this is what I get for it—a dead baby, filthy accusations about a wonderful friendship! If you were a proper husband, this never would have happened in the first place! I wouldn’t be lying here…wishing I were dead!”
The last words came brokenly, and she lay back down, filled horror and grief. She needed comfort so badly, and here he was whining about her friendship with Ramon, trying to shift the blame away from himself. “I’m not sorry Ramon hit you,” she said then, putting a hand to her head. “If I were capable, I would have done it myself.”
Chad felt all his fears converging at once. She was colder, harder, and suddenly wiser. He didn’t like this change in her, feared the loss of her naïveté. Everything had been perfect until that damn Milicent had insisted they had time for a go-round before he went home the other night. Could he help it if he was so irresistible? His mother’s lover had not taken any of his masculinity from him. He had proven that over and over. He ran a hand through his hair, stepping closer. “I’ve told you I was sorry, and I’m not accusing you of anything, Irene. I just think we need to get out of Denver for a while, have some time alone, find a way to straighten this out. You’re right in saying it’s my fault, but I…there are certain things about me you don’t understand.”
“Then explain them, Chad. Help me understand.”
He reddened slightly. “I can’t. Just suffice it to say I’ll try harder.” He leaned closer. “I swear to God, Irene, I would never deliberately hurt you, and I would rather have died than let something happen to that baby. Surely you believe that much.”
The terrible pain swept through her again, and her eyes teared. “As sorry an excuse for a man that you are, I do believe that much,” she answered, little realizing how deeply the words cut him. Her voice was dull, full of disillusionment and sorrow. “We’ll go south, if that’s what you want. I wouldn’t mind getting away myself. But you’ll be busy, and I don’t intend to just sit around every day waiting for you. If we’re going to go, I want to build a house on the B&K. Mother has been wanting a place down there where the family can go if they want. And I want to buy some horses. I haven’t had horses or been riding in a long time. I miss it.”
He brightened a little. “Fine,” he answered. “You can have anything you want, Irene, anything. Nothing can make up for what we’ve lost, but we’re young, and you can have more babies. We will have more, Irene, I promise you that, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, to let me be a husband to you again.”
She watched him, realizing he thought it could be so easy. He expected her to forgive and forget, to take him back to her bed just because she was a woman, a submissive wife who was expected to overlook her husband’s faults. It didn’t seem fair that so much was expected of a wife, or that a man should be able to get away with anything he pleased. She realized that what she hated most about him was that he was bringing out all the feelings she never wanted to feel, bringing out a hardness, a bitterness she had never known before. She didn’t like feeling this way about anyone, especially her own husband.
“I don’t want to be a divorced woman, Chad. I just wish you would open up to me, tell me what drives you, tell me what it is that keeps you from talking to me whenever the conversation turns to you or your real feelings. You keep saying I don’t understand. What don’t I understand?”
He drew back. How could he tell her the truth? Besides, a man could have worse faults than enjoying women. Plenty of men enjoyed them. He wondered, though, if all men hated them the way he did. Still, he didn’t hate Irene. She was about the only one he didn’t hate, yet she was the one he’d hurt the most. If only he could curb this insatiable appetite for sex, this need to use women and then throw them away. He wondered what she would do if she ever found out about Susan Stanner…or Elly.
“I just…I never felt loved when I was growing up,” he told her, hoping it was a legitimate excuse. After all, it was true. That should be enough. He could never bring himself to tell her about his mother, or that his father claimed he was a bastard.
“I loved you,” Irene told him. “I’ve been a good wife, Chad. Why did you need to turn to others?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It won’t happen again, Irene.”
Why didn’t she believe him? How was it she knew instinctively that this was the rocky road she would travel the rest of her married life? Would going south really change anything? What choice did she have but to try? At least it would be a change of scenery—scenery that she loved. At least she could have horses, ride again.
“I hope you’re telling the truth, Chad.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I want to forgive you. I want to try again, to have another baby. But I can’t right away. Every time I look at you I see you lying naked on top of Milicent Delaney, and it makes me sick.” She swallowed against the ache in her throat.
“As soon as you’re well, we’ll go,” he told her. “I’ll explain to your mother that we both need to get away. She’ll understand that. And she really does need someone down in Colorado Springs who can take charge of things. We can check up on the cattle business. Maybe Hank Loring can show us around the ranch, fill us in on costs and such.”
Hank Loring. Irene had not thought about the man in a long time. It had been nearly five years since he had lost his wife and daughter to the Indians. She had admired his courage in the wake of such sorrow. She took strength in the knowledge that she was not the only one who had suffered a terrible loss. At least she had not held her baby, played with her, watched her grow, only to lose her to a gruesome death.
“Fine,” she said aloud. “It’s settled then. We’ll leave as soon as I’m able to travel.”
He turned to meet her eyes, and she realized that to her he didn’t look nearly as handsome as he once did. She was seeing him through different eyes now, the eyes of knowledge. She knew the inner Chad Jacobs. Everyone else knew only the outward man—the melting good looks, the fancy clothes, the intelligent, educated, hard-working man who could do no wrong. What a far cry he was from Ramon—gentle, understanding, loyal Ramon. But even knowing what Chad had done, she felt guilty thinking affectionately about another man. She was still Chad Jacobs’s wife, and she had to live with the fact, had to remember her wedding vows, even if he had not.
How could her happiness have turned into such utter despair in one quick look, one wrong step, one cruel awakening to the truth? She turned on her side, and she heard his footsteps as he walked to the door. It closed quietly, and the tears came again.
Ramon stood back and studied the angle of the arched entrance to the church, which curved and then led to a rising point at the center, a cross at the tip of the point. Other men worked with a hoist that would be used to raise a steeple, and six huge bells sat stored in a Kirkland warehouse, waiting to be installed as a finishing touch. But there was a considerable amount of work to be done before the bells could be mounted.
It was difficult to concentrate on his work for thinking of Irene. He wished she was here to see his progress, wished he had not let his temper get the better of him. It was probably his fault Chad had taken her away. Now s
he was not where he could keep an eye on her, but then he was wrong in thinking he had the right to interfere in her life at all. He never should have gone to Chad’s house, but the thought of what the man had done had made him contemplate murder. Chad deserved nothing less.
He only hoped he had not made trouble for Irene, but then how could a man who had done what Chad had done turn around and accuse his wife of anything? He was sorry he had to hate a man who had helped him. Chad Jacobs could be likable in many ways, but Ramon had always suspected his friendly nature was only a veil covering something much more evil. He regretted not telling Irene his suspicions long ago, before she ever married Chad. But he was married to Elena then, and it all seemed pointless. Besides, he had no proof.
It had taken time for the real Chad to reveal himself, and now he had, to poor Irene’s dismay. What heartache and disappointment she was being forced to live with. Every time he thought of it the anger returned, the horrible frustration of not being able to do anything about it. Now she was gone. God only knew for how long, or if Chad Jacobs would be a better husband. Poor Irene was still grieving, and she didn’t even have her family to turn to.
He picked up a chisel and turned to see Red McKinley coming toward him. He remembered Red from before the flood, when he had bought lumber from Red and worked for him on a project. He had not seen the man in years, but he had heard he held an important position with the Union Pacific. From the way he was dressed, that much was obvious. He smiled, putting out his hand as Red came closer. “Señor McKinley,” he spoke up. “It has been a long time.”
“That it has, Ramon,” the man answered, taking his hand. “I’ve been asking around about you and have heard nothing but good things.” He glanced up at the church. “You are apparently doing a damn good business, and you deserve it. Glad to see you’re coming up in the world.”
They released hands. “Not as much as you, I hear,” Ramon answered. “You are a rich railroad man now. I even saw your name in a newspaper clear out in Los Angeles, an article about the Union Pacific taking their tracks through Cheyenne instead of Denver.” He stood back. “And you dare to step foot back in this town?” he asked with a laugh.
Red returned the laughter. “Well, now that the Denver Pacific has a connection and things are coming along smoothly, I’m not quite so hated. I was only acting on behalf of the railroad, son. Business is business, you know.”
Ramon folded his arms, the chisel still in his hands. Red thought what a superbly handsome man he was. “And I’ll bet you’re here on business,” Ramon was saying.
Red frowned, touching a hand to his chin. “I was just thinking what an intelligent man you are, and now you’ve proven it. How did you guess?”
“Ah, men like you do not just come to chat like a woman.”
“No, we don’t. I have a proposition for you, Ramon. It will make you even richer, and that’s what every man wants, isn’t it?”
Ramon watched him carefully, never fully trusting gringo businessmen. “That depends on the proposition.”
Red took a cigar from an inside pocket of his jacket. “Well, I’m back in Denver to stay. I did well with the railroad, but that required a lot of moving around. For personal reasons, I want to stay right here. In fact, there is a Mr. Palmer from this area who is talking about a new railroad, one that will go into the mountains. I intend to lend my expertise to him if and when the occasion arises. At any rate, in the meantime, I have money, and I want to get back into the lumber business. I have some very personal reasons for doing so.”
He lit the cigar and turned to look at the church again. “Now, I’m told by everyone whose opinion counts, that you’re the most talented and sought-after builder in Denver, that Jack Scotland himself recommended you. I hear you built quite a cathedral in Los Angeles, that it took several years.”
“Yes, sir. It was quite an undertaking. I was surprised I was asked at such a young age, but I proved that I could do it.”
Red met his eyes. “Your business is going to grow fast, Ramon, I can see it already. Nearly all truly important building projects are going to be handed to you—the ones that net the most money, the ones that are most expensive.”
Ramon’s eyebrows arched. “And I suppose you want me to buy your lumber.”
Red puffed on the cigar, then took it from his mouth. “I’ll be sure to ship in the best, Ramon, even those exotic woods from South America. I can do it. I’ve got the money. I’ll specialize in premium material—no cheap stuff. If you will agree to order all material only from me, and urge other builders to do the same, I’ll give you a special discount. You quote the normal price to your customers and pocket the difference. It will be a little bonus to you for bringing me the business.”
Ramon frowned. “I suppose you know that the only other lumber business in town is owned by the Kirklands.”
Red grinned. “I am perfectly aware of that.”
“They are powerful people in this town. I see something in your eyes, Mr. McKinley, that looks like revenge.”
“You’re an observant young man. That’s exactly what it is. I have my reasons, Ramon, for going up against the Kirklands—Bea Kirkland to be more specific. Her husband and I were good friends for many years, but she cleverly put a stop to that. She ran me out of this town once, stole my business right out from under me. I’ve come back to do the same thing to her. Before I’m through, she’ll give up her lumber business. I just figured that if I can tell people Ramon Vallejo is my top man, it would help bring more business my way, and bring down Kirkland Lumber that much sooner.”
Ramon grinned slyly. “How do you know I will not go to Mrs. Kirkland with what you have just told me? This is her church I am working on, you know.”
Red shrugged. “For one thing, it wouldn’t make any difference. I have enough money that the Kirklands can’t hurt me or stop me. For another, I know for a fact it was Irene Kirkland who hired you for this, not her mother. I always check my facts, Ramon, and my contacts. I know firsthand what Bea Kirkland is like, and she never would have hired a Mexican, let alone a Catholic, for this project. I also know you did a lot of work at the Kirkland mansion. Kirk told me about it years ago. I’m guessing you’ve had more than one go-round with Bea Kirkland yourself. I’ll bet you took on this project only because of Irene. She’s the only Kirkland who’s worth knowing, isn’t she?”
Ramon felt the flutter of passion, the painful memories. Their eyes held. “Sí, señor. Irene Jacobs is a fine woman. It is too bad she lost a child.”
Red sobered, genuine concern coming into his eyes. “She did? I’m really sorry to hear that. Well, I hope Irene will be all right.” Red took another puff on the cigar. “I like that young lady.” He kept the cigar in his mouth. “What about my proposition, Ramon?”
Ramon faced the man again, and Red was shocked to see tears forming in the man’s eyes. He had hit the jackpot without even realizing it! He had come here to see if Ramon would help him corner the contracting and lumber market, but he had thought it might take some arguing. There was something more here than he knew, something to do with Irene. Just how well did Ramon Vallejo know her?
Ramon spoke quietly. “This is just between us, Mr. McKinley, but I will tell you that I would like to run Bea Kirkland out of business myself—perhaps more than you. It is a long story. We cannot hope to touch the greater share of Kirkland Enterprises. They are too big for that. But if we can destroy even one tiny part of it, it will be a victory. With your financial backing, and my reputation as a contractor, we can do it.”
Red saw eager revenge in Ramon’s eyes. “Well, well,” he muttered. “I have found another victim of Bea Kirkland’s iron hand.”
“Sí. She has insulted me, and she stole my grandfather’s land away from him. She caused me to do something many years ago that I will regret for the rest of my life, something that will ensure I will never be a happy man. I will not say what it was. I will only say I am glad to help you. But I do not want the money under the
table. We will put Bea Kirkland out of the lumber business faster if we underbid her up front. You sell me the lumber cheaper, I quote cheaper prices, we get the business. My extra money will come from a bonus you will pay me for bringing you business, and I will charge my normal labor costs, which are high. I do good work, Mr. McKinley.”
Red nodded. “Fair enough. I like the idea.”
“We sign nothing. I have my own contracting business. I do not wish to go into any kind of a partnership. It will just be a verbal agreement that I buy all my supplies from you.”
Red grinned widely. “Fine. I’m not out to move in on your business, Ramon. In fact, after what you have told me, I hope you become the richest contractor in Colorado. Maybe you’ll even get your land back someday.”
Ramon grinned. “Maybe.” He put out his hand and Red took it. “And maybe someday you will buy out Kirkland Lumber.”
They squeezed hands. “I like the way you think, Ramon.”
“When it comes to Bea Kirkland, we think alike. Open your business, Mr. McKinley, and I will start buying from you.”
Red tipped his hat. “I’ll be in touch. We’ll have dinner together.”
Ramon nodded and watched him walk away, taking deep pleasure in planning to out-do Bea Kirkland in at least one area of her vast empire. He had no doubt that between himself and Red McKinley, it could be done.
Chapter Twenty-eight
September 1869
Irene knelt to plant another rosebush in the open courtyard of her nearly completed home. Resting among the green foothills of the Rockies, it was a two-hour ride south of Colorado Springs, on B&K land. Nearby was one of several bunkhouses that were scattered across the vast B&K, where the ranch hands who worked various shifts lived.
In the Shadow of the Mountains Page 49
