Casey's Courage

by Neva Brown

  Casey silently applauded Rosalinda’s expertise. While tender, ranch beef dominated, an exotic-looking fish entree as well as a chicken concoction, were served along with crisp salad, fresh vegetables, rolls, and a caramel dessert made from a special Mexican recipe.

  They had chilled water with the meal and rich coffee with dessert. Casey decided the wine selection was best left to Tres or Mattie Lou. Her experience with such was limited.

  A much-refreshed Leila ate with a good appetite as the conversation revolved around the Mansion that Jordan remembered. “Do you remember this room?” she asked.

  Jordan glanced about him. “Sure, but back then my mother and the women who helped in the house used it for a sewing room. The afternoon light through those windows made it perfect for doing close work. I remember two or three treadle machines, a loom, a cutting table and all kinds of racks and forms sitting around.”

  Leila beamed at him. “Are you beginning to feel like it is home?”

  “Sorry, I’m afraid not. I don’t even remember the layout.”

  Casey saw the disappointment on Leila’s face.

  “Some areas have been remodeled and a completely new wing has been added in the past few years.”

  Leila frowned. “Wouldn’t it ruin the design to add onto such a magnificent house?”

  Jordan gave a short, gentle chuckle. “My dear, every generation felt obligated to leave its mark on the place.”

  She still looked concerned.

  “They have always been careful about how they did it,” Jordan said. “Stone from the same quarry was always used and the most able craftsmen were hired.”

  Leila put her tiny little hand on Jordan’s arm. “But, Jordan, what kind of mark will you leave?”

  After a short pause, Jordan spoke. “A generation will be skipped. Tres will have to make a mark for two generations, I guess.”

  Leila frowned. “That’s just not right.”

  Realizing Jordan did not plan to respond to his wife’s statement, Casey said, “You might like to roam around and explore after dinner. Or I’d be happy to guide you even though I can’t supply much history.”

  “What do you think, Leila, shall we let Casey give us a tour so we don’t get lost?” He grinned. “I can furnish the history.”

  “Do you know your way around the whole mansion?” Leila asked Casey.

  “I think I’ve looked in every nook and cranny. Mattie Lou’s health has not been at its best the past few weeks, so I’ve helped her inspect everything as she prepared for your visit. She’s so pleased about your coming.”

  With alarm in his voice, Jordan said. “Is her heart the problem, or what?”

  Casey realized Mattie Lou had not mentioned her arthritis to her son. “Her heart is fine. Rheumatoid arthritis came on suddenly, not long after J.D. died. She is getting a new kind of treatment that seems to be helping tremendously. But she has to be careful not to overdo.”

  Leila looked like a light bulb had just come on in her head. “Then you are employed as Mattie Lou’s companion now that you are unable to ride horses.”

  Casey recognized the same mindset her dad had about the line between her and the Spencers. Choosing to ignore Leila’s remark, she said, “Why don’t we start with the acclimatized solarium? It is a particular joy to Mattie Lou.”

  “Does she still have roses all over the place?” Jordan asked.

  Casey glanced at him. “Oh, yes, and she is always looking for new varieties. But her interests broadened when Ignacio came from the interior of Mexico to take care of the Mansion grounds. On his first trip back home after he had been here a while, he brought back several varieties of orchids and put them in the hothouse with the other flowers and vegetables grown in there. Mattie Lou fell in love with them and things evolved from there.”

  As they crossed a sitting area to the solarium with its muted light, Casey heard Leila catch her breath.

  “Jordan, look!” She didn’t wait for someone to open the heavy glass door, but pushed it herself and stood transfixed in the little manmade rain forest.

  Before he and Casey entered the solarium, he said, “Her family descended from Hawaiian royalty. She is second generation New Yorker, but they all consider themselves living in exile from their rightful home. This has to remind her of their island kingdom that I’ve heard them talk about as if it will someday be theirs to rule again.”

  They watched the pretty, little, woman move reverently from one orchid to the next, stopping to touch different tropical plants as she moved around the room with its misty glass roof showcasing the night sky. Casey had never seen the solarium by night and had to agree with Leila. It was a magical place.

  The evening was well spent by the time Leila had named and exclaimed about nearly every plant in the whole solarium.

  Exploring the remainder of the Mansion had to wait for another time.

  The next morning, as Casey stopped the pickup in a clearing on the highest spot on the ranch, Jordan stepped out. “Listen, Leila!” He gave a cowboy yell like he had as a teenager. It echoed across the canyons, on and on.

  “Whatever are you doing?” Leila giggled as he helped her down from the big vehicle.

  Casey watched as he directed his wife’s eyes south to the border of Mexico then in all the other directions as he talked about how the Running S expanded over the years. As he explained to Leila about how many miles the ranch stretched in each direction, Casey edged away, leaving the two alone, but before she was out of earshot she heard Leila say, “Jordan, this is your kingdom and your heritage. Your son has usurped your position. Why did you allow it?”

  Chapter 14

  Casey maneuvered the pickup through several pastures so Jordan and Leila saw fat cattle, sleek mares, and colts while getting glimpses of pronghorn antelope, whitetail, and mule deer.

  As noontime neared, Casey said, “Rosalinda packed a picnic lunch. Shall we make our way across to the line cabin on the rim of Dark Canyon to eat? You can see one of the lowest areas on the ranch in contrast to the highest.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. What do you think, Leila?” Jordan asked.

  “I trust you, Jordan. I’m completely lost in the vastness of it all.”

  Casey parked in the shade of the Alligator Juniper and soon had Leila in the cabin directed toward the bathroom. Casey felt sure all would enjoy the picnic lunch, sitting around the cabin table without having to deal with bugs and wind. The New York Spencers made no effort to help with the putting out or cleaning of the meal. Casey saw humor at their expecting to be waited on, even in a cabin.

  After lunch, they hiked to the rim of the canyon, where Casey showed them the ravages of the recent raging waters, but made no mention of the militants or the grueling trip in and out of the treacherous abyss.

  As the sharp wind whipped up the wall of the canyon, threatening to whirl them over the edge, Leila shivered and turned away. “Jordan, this is a frightening place. I think I would like to go back to the Mansion. I feel rather tired.”

  Putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him, he shepherded her toward the pickup. “We’ll go back right now.”

  Casey breathed a sigh of relief when the rather wilted Leila disappeared through the front door of the Mansion with Jordan by her side in careful attendance.

  When she took the picnic basket to the kitchen, Rosalinda announced that Tres and Mattie Lou had returned.

  “They were both miserable about not being here when company arrived,” the housekeeper said. “But I told them we managed just fine. Mattie Lou looks good, not a bit tired like I thought she’d be.”

  “Maybe a trip away from home and responsibility as well as getting to spend some time alone with her grandson was good for her,” Casey said, relaxing a little herself. She turned to leave the kitchen.

  “Dress for dinner,” Rosalinda ordered. “Mattie Lou will.”

  Time enough to dress for dinner, Casey told herself. She wiggled into a swimsuit, pushed the bu
tton to roll back the cover on the pool, and watched it peel away to let the steam from the heated water create a misty fog in the autumn air. The smell of chlorine assailed her nose as she slid into the water reminding her of the time Tres swam with her, then kissed her. That kiss had held a hint of chlorine taste but so much more. The heat inside her as she thought of that day made her skin sensitive to the water washing around her as she swam lap after lap.

  Later, she talked to her image in the mirror. “Never did I think I’d live to see you wearing a pink dress.” She perused the petal soft pink of the silk faille dress with its scooped neckline, long, fitted sleeves, and straight skirt with a slit up to her knee that revealed her sheer stockings as she walked. Professor and Mrs. Buford would be proud of their handiwork. “Thanks to them I know how to walk, talk, and look like a lady. Now if I just felt like one.” She inspected her well-buffed fingernails, studied her light makeup and her hair that now smelled of spring rain rather than chlorine. You’ll have to do. She went to her sitting room, flipped on the reading exercise machine, and forced herself to concentrate on her eye exercises.

  Tres saw her there, looking like a cameo as he came to her open door. His heart kicked and his loins warmed as he knocked lightly.

  She stood up and approached him. “Hi, how was the conference?”

  The conference was not on his mind as he watched the lights from the chandelier dance and shimmer on her auburn hair and accent the ripples of the soft, iridescent pink silk of a dress that concealed, yet revealed, the subtle curves he wanted to touch.

  As natural as was going to the well for water, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Sweet and warm as a summer breeze, she drifted against him and enfolded him with slender, strong arms. He was home.

  The feel of fragile, fine bones in her back as she leaned back and smiled up at him with green eyes sparkling with desire sent his senses reeling. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so at one with his world.

  “Rosalinda told me you rolled out the red carpet for the family,” Tres said as he ran a finger from her temple down to the neckline of her dress.

  She laughed, quiet and husky, as she eased out of his arms. “Sure, if you call standing on the front steps barefooted with dirty shoes in my hand red carpet treatment.”

  He caught her palm that had only recently healed from bleeding blisters. It felt soft as a baby kitten as it cuddled against his palm.

  “Rosalinda, in her singular way, said the new wife was uppity. I got the feeling she thought the new Mrs. Spencer had been a little condescending to you.”

  Casey’s raised an eyebrow then giggled, kicking Tres’ temperature up another notch. “What can you expect from royalty?”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Oh, do we have royalty in the family now?”

  “You certainly do. If you need a subject for conversation, just ask Mrs. Spencer about her ancestors.” She gave him a mischievous grin as the grandfather clock down the hall began to chime.

  Tres heaved a man-sized sigh. “We better go make conversation, I guess, but before we go, come with me.” Tres led Casey down the hall to his suite and kept her at his side as he rummaged around in the back of an armoire drawer and brought out a velvet box. He picked up a webbed collar of fine white-gold bejeweled with opals. A single large opal hung at the center point of the lacy triangle. Placing the delicate chain around her neck, he leaned back and surveyed it, nodding, then fastened it.

  Pulling the matching ring from its slot, he slipped it onto her right-hand ring finger. The fiery opal in the setting slid around to the palm of her hand. The band was too big. He slid it off that finger and placed it on her index finger, then grinned. “That’s even better.” He took out matching earrings with opals that came alive with color in the light. “Maybe you better put these on.” He handed them to her.

  “What are you doing?” Casey asked, with a bewildered look.

  Tres touched the jewels at her neck. “I thought of these opals when I saw you in that dress. They go together. Besides, we don’t want royalty to misunderstand us country folks.”

  Turning her to the mirror in the armoire, he stood behind her and watched as she put on the earrings. “Now that is royalty.”

  Casey stared into the mirror, mesmerized as she peered at Tres’ image behind her. His eyes shone in good humor and something else, almost feral. As her eyes took in the dainty exquisiteness of the jewelry, she caught her breath. “Tres, somebody will be sure to ask about my wearing such gorgeous jewelry. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “Just say they came from Australia and you enjoy wearing them.” His lips brushed her temple. “We better get out of here and go visit with the family.”

  Tres and Casey left his suite holding hands and talking, unaware of Jordan and Leila watching them as they came from the other side of the mezzanine toward the head of the wide staircase.

  Casey knew Tres had spoken with Jordan earlier in the afternoon, while Leila rested in their room. They met the New York Spencers at the top of the stairs. “Leila, this is Tres,” Jordan said, without acknowledging Casey.

  Leila extended a plump little bejeweled hand. “How wonderful to finally meet you. My daughter, Lani, is about your age. She should have joined us.”

  Tres did not comment on the daughter, but squeezed Casey’s hand as if to say, I told you so. Game on! “Is this your first visit to West Texas?” he asked as the four of them descended the stairs.

  Leila preened. “It is, and I find it quite impressive. I had no idea Jordan’s family ruled such a territory.”

  “Hardly rule! Mattie Lou and I have spent several days trying to convince politicians to leave landowners’ water rights alone and not siphon off water to supply the big cities at the expense of damaging the environment.”

  As they entered a drawing room, Mattie Lou rose from her wingback chair and held out her arms for her son, who left his wife’s side and embraced his mother. Keeping his arm around her shoulders, he turned and introduced her to his wife.

  Mattie Lou’s gracious smile would have charmed birds out of the trees. “Welcome to the Running S. I’m sorry Tres and I weren’t here when you arrived. Water rights and conservation have become such an issue in the whole state. We felt we needed to represent our area that is so sparsely populated. Politicians sometimes forget us.”

  Leila beamed. “I understand completely. My family knows well what can happen when one’s rights are not defended.”

  Mattie Lou inclined her head at Tres. “We have time for drinks before dinner if you like.”

  “Good,” he said, and glanced at to Casey. “Club Soda?”

  She nodded.

  “White wine?” he asked Mattie Lou, then looked to Leila. “What may I get for you?”

  Casey could see Leila had not missed the subtly. With a hint of pique, she asked, “I don’t suppose a pineapple daiquiri would be possible?”

  “No problem.” Tres smiled and turned to Jordan. “What for you?”

  “Bourbon and branch water works for me.”

  As Tres set about fixing drinks, Leila asked Jordan about the portrait of his grandfather, Seth Spencer, that dominated the wall over the fireplace. “Is that the grandfather you mentioned?”

  “Indeed it is. He was the powerhouse who put the family fortune together. His father disinherited him so he was hell-bent on showing the world he could do better than his older brother who inherited everything in Scotland.”

  “Why in the world would a father disinherit a son?” Leila asked.

  Jordan grinned. “It had something to do with his not being willing to donate his earnings to the family funds that his father and older son had total control of, I believe.” He turned to Mattie Lou and asked, “Is that about the sum of it, Mother?”

  Mattie Lou smiled with joy. “Yes, it seems J.D.’s father, much like my father, was an exceptional entrepreneur. Everything those two touched made money. Neither Seth’s father nor his older brother was as adept at managing finan
ces.

  Seth just couldn’t see his way clear to hand money over to them and see it disappear so he stopped contributing. On his deathbed, Seth’s father disinherited him. So the twenty-year-old Seth and his childhood sweetheart slipped away in the night and sailed to America.” Mattie Lou took a sip of her wine as she gazed at the portrait. “There’s no end to the stories told about the courage and determination of Seth and Astrid Spencer as they made their way West and settled in the wilds of West Texas.”

  Kari came to the dining room door. Mattie Lou said, “Kari is prepared to serve when we are ready.”

  Tres nodded. “Shall we take our drinks with us? My bet is that Grandpa Seth wouldn’t approve of our wasting good drinks.” Taking Mattie Lou’s arm and turning to Casey, he shepherded both ladies into the dining room, while Jordan seated his wife at the perfectly appointed table.

  Leila placed her hand on Jordan’s arm while Kari served the first course. “Darling, I do believe you inherited a good share of your grandfather’s financial acumen. How did it happen that you did not inherit these vast holdings that he procured when your father died?”

  Casey watched Jordan’s eye dart to Mattie Lou then to Tres. Silence hung heavy in the room until he said with an uncomfortable laugh, “It’s a long story, nearly a half-century old. Let’s leave it for another time and instead tell Mother about our plans to make our retirement home in your family’s old bailiwick.”

  Leila reminded Casey of a calf roper who’d missed the calf with his first loop and shook out his second rope while his horse ran at top speed to keep the calf in range. Without a bobble, she faced Mattie Lou with sparkling brown eyes and smiled beautifully. “Your son is truly the most wonderful man. He researched real estate in Hawaii until he found an area where my ancestors had had a palace long ago. Of course, the area has been developed, but one of the larger estates has been put on the market. He took an option on it and we are going to see if it would be suitable for our retirement years.”