This Side of Forever (Book Five of the Brides of the West Series)

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This Side of Forever (Book Five of the Brides of the West Series) Page 8

by Hestand, Rita


  "Mother…please tell me what's happened?" Amy pleaded as she set the luggage on the bed.

  "Let's unpack and I'll tell you." Beatrice opened a case and they began loading the dresser with her stuff. Beatrice was careful to leave Amy enough room for her clothes too.

  "Your father and I had a disagreement. He ordered me to leave." Beatrice admitted.

  Amy knew it wasn't that simple. Not after twenty-four years of marriage. How could it be?

  "A disagreement about what?" Amy kept asking questions.

  Beatrice stopped, wiped her eyes and leaned against the dresser. "About a lot of things. He's gone mad, I'm afraid."

  "Mad?" Amy's frown widened.

  "I can't go into it all right now, I'm too distraught. But I will explain given time. Please bear with me. Just know that this is best. At least for now." Beatrice looked at her.

  "Father ordered you out?" Amy repeated what her mother said, trying to piece it together.

  "I'm afraid so. I'm not really upset about that, except I didn't expect him to be so intolerably cruel about it"

  "Why?" Amy cried aloud.

  "I promised not to tell a soul. He practically threatened me if I did. And right now, I'm afraid of that threat, Amy. I promise, in due time. I'll tell you. When I'm sure he cannot get at me for it."

  Amy hung her head, "Don't you love him anymore, mother?"

  "I don't think I've loved him in a long time, dear. I'm sure he doesn't love me either. We tolerated each other, that's all. But there will be no more of that. I'm through."

  "Amy, look at me." Her mother took her by the upper arms and turned her so she could see into her eyes.

  "Are you still in love with Clay Reno?"

  Amy couldn't hold her mother's gaze, she knew the answer, but her parents wouldn't like it. She debated whether she should tell her or not, but then, almost anyone could see it. Anyone but Clay.

  "You don't stop loving someone that easily mother. He was my first love, the man I promised to marry. And…yes, I still love him. I can't help myself. I'm sorry I'm not in love with George. Forgive me?"

  "I have nothing to forgive, but your father…hates him."

  "Why, Clay's never done anything except when father chased him down the main street in Waco, and Clay shot his horse out from under him. He didn't shoot him though."

  "He simply doesn't want him having you."

  Amy stared at her mother. The implication was there and Amy wanted to deny it, but she remembered too many times that strange uncomfortable feeling she had when her father was around her alone. The way he stared at her, the way he happened by when she was changing clothes and stopped at her door. He'd never touched her, never said a word, but it left an uncomfortable feeling she couldn't shrug away. She had thought for years that she had imagined it. Now she knew it was real, and it frightened her more now that she knew. "That sounds so evil…so…"

  "I know. And I don't want you going home. Somehow, we'll get your clothes and things from the house. I don't want you living with your father, ever again. Do you understand?" Beatrice grabbed her arms and held her in front of her.

  "Yes…I think so." Amy shook her head. "It's just so hard to believe. In a way."

  "Amy, look at me." Beatrice held her and stared into her eyes. "Has your father…has he ever…"

  Amy's eyes widened. "No mother, no! Of course not. I'd never permit it. He'd have to kill me first."

  "Thank God." Beatrice cried and slumped down on the side of the bed.

  "But he has touched you mentally. He wants to control you, Amy. He wants to control both of us. I refuse to let him any longer. I'll never live in that house again." Beatrice determined. "And I'll never let him hurt you."

  "Oh mother, surely he wouldn't…"

  "I don't know at this point. I just don't know what the man is capable of any longer. He admitted he hated Clay and that he'd see him dead before he ever married you and all because he knows Clay Reno loves you."

  Amy flopped on the bed beside her mother in stunned silence. It was a nightmare, it had to be.

  "Does Clay have any idea about your father's feelings?"

  "No…he has no idea, I'm sure of it." Amy told her.

  "I heard about his place being burned out. I'm sorry." Beatrice said. "Amy…I'm so sorry."

  "For what, mother?" Amy put her arm around her.

  "I was blind to Clay's love for you. But the very fact that he came home to see you, that he respected your engagement, tells me he must love you beyond all else."

  "I thought he'd…say something. But he hasn't." Amy cried. "When he came to the store that day, I was shocked to see him standing there. I ran into his arms. He kissed me, like a man starved for love. When I told him about George, he backed off, immediately. There was no animosity in him. Just a sudden respect for our engagement. I thought he'd be mad, confront George, something. But he's done nothing."

  "No, a real gentleman wouldn't have said or did anything, my dear. And obviously your Clay is much more a gentleman than I thought." Beatrice took both her hands and held them. "It's up to you, who you marry, Amy. I will not interfere any longer. I promise. Whether you chose Clay or not, he must be warned of your father. He has that right." Beatrice squeezed her hands.

  "Of course…you're right. However, now I must end my engagement to George. I don't love him. I'd make him miserable. Even if Clay doesn't want me any longer, I can't marry George, I've known that since Clay returned." Amy admitted. "I just wasn't strong enough to admit to myself."

  Beatrice nodded. "You're right of course. Darling, I’m so sorry about all of this. I should have left your father years ago. When Johnny died, I just didn't have the will to do anything. And there was you. I wanted so much for you."

  "You're life isn't over mother. You can still be very happy. And I’m going to see you are." Amy promised, hugging her to her.

  "At least we'll have each other…"

  "Always." Amy smiled into her worried face.

  "Did father hurt you in any way?" Amy asked.

  "No…but if I'd have stayed he might have. I know that. He seemed so full of anger. I've never seen him like that."

  "I need to find some work or something, so we can live." Amy informed her.

  "No," She shook her hands and smiled. "I have enough. The one thing I did that may or may not be right was take an allowance all these years. I've saved most of it. We can get by." Beatrice smiled at her.

  "But…I'd feel better working…"

  "No…there's no need."

  "Right now, I can't begin to put all of this together." Amy cried. Tears rolled down her cheek. "To think you were married for so long and not see it."

  Beatrice rolled her eyes, "Amy…I quit having relations with your father, long ago. I did see it coming. I just like you refused to. He could rightfully have committed me to some institution as crazy if he'd wanted to. The law itself would have allowed it. I guess I should be thankful it never dawned on him. Besides, he couldn't keep up being a respected citizen and have me committed. People would fault him too."

  "Was there a reason you quit having relations?" Amy asked.

  "Yes…several. But I don't think I should go into that right now with you. You have enough to worry about now. Enough to consider. Maybe one day I can talk with you about it…but not now,…it's just too soon. I need to try and forget the bad times and move on with my life. And let you move on with yours. Just because I left your father doesn't mean you have to take care of me. I'm very capable of doing that myself. But I love having you with me."

  "Alright mother. I understand." Amy cried and hugged her again.

  "Well…what do you say to going down to the café here and eating?" Amy asked.

  "Yes, that would be good. I guess I have to continue to live normally as I can. But Amy, people will talk. They always do. It's a small town, and I'm sure many saw me this afternoon with my luggage and coming here. Keep your head up high. Be proud. You're a good person."

  Amy lay ba
ck against the bed. "Let them talk. They've talked about Clay and me for a long time now. Only, now I don't care what they say. I love him mother, and I always will."

  "Good girl…we'll get through this…" Beatrice smiled.

  "Yes, somehow we will get through it." Amy repeated, her head pounding with the effort not to cry. Her mother was the one that suffered; she needed to be strong for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  "George, what are you doing here?" Mr. Clark asked as George came through the parlor and joined him at the kitchen table. George was accustomed to walking in when no one answered. He was considered part of the family.

  "I knocked, no one answered. However, the door was open, so I came in. I came calling on Amy. I wanted to show her a new foal." George explained. "Is she here? She's going to love this."

  Martin shot him a quick glance. His world was quickly falling apart and George wanted to show his daughter a foal? Martin huffed.

  George didn't look like a rancher. He didn't dress like one either. He wore the best of clothes, drank the best whiskey and carried himself like a politician who just got elected. It silently irritated Martin, how egotistical George could be.

  "No, no she isn't here." Martin replied, looking about.

  "Oh, will she be back soon?" George asked anxiously.

  "I don't know." Martin stood up, got a glass and offered George a drink. George nodded his approval.

  Martin's movements were mechanical.

  George studied Martin for a long time. The old man had once been the most powerful man in town, but age and a slow building anger had beat him. He was simply a shell. However, that shell of a man could solve all his problems, and nothing would make George happier. The difference in the two of them as George saw it was that Martin was motivated by anger, and he was motivated by money. But he'd use Martin's anger to accomplish his goals and the old man wouldn't have the slightest idea.

  "Things have changed around here, George." Martin eyed him with precision as he turned and set the drink in front of George, spilling some on the table as he did so.

  George took a cloth napkin at one of the table settings and wiped the bourbon up so it wouldn't spill on his clothes.

  "Oh…how so?" George asked sipping the bourbon, and letting it warm his throat. Martin had that look about him today. The look that said 'don't get in my way'. George knew him well. The last couple of years Martin had been nothing more than a raging maniac.

  He folded a leg over the arm of the chair and got comfortable, as he was accustomed to doing in Martin's house. His acceptance as a son-in-law made him more than a little comfortable. He knew all the right words to say to please Mrs. Clark, and with a little more work, he'd have Amy eating out of his hand, too. Although he had to admit that the return of her old fiancé had put him at a somewhat disadvantage. He could easily best, Clay Reno, though.

  "Amy's mother…she moved out. And so…probably has my daughter. Since I haven't seen her in a couple of days." Mr. Clark said, pouring himself another drink and drinking it down in one gulp. His face was red with anger not expressed yet. "I'm fairly sure they are rooming at the hotel. Although what she's doing for money heaven only knows."

  George could see that Martin wasn't too pleased and he knew he'd have to tread water around him today. He might be old, but he was still a dangerously powerful man.

  George watched him with an eagle eye now. George hadn't expected this development. Alarm bells went off in his head. The old man was still very cagey. However, he let anger rule him, that was his downfall.

  "Are you sure they are at the hotel?" George looked shocked.

  Martin shrugged. "Of course I'm not sure. It doesn't matter where they went. They'll come crawling back here when they run out of money. You wait and see."

  "Well, aren't you worried about them?" He asked suddenly alert to Mr. Clark's every move. "Even a little?"

  "No…of course not. They are both old enough to take care of themselves. I insisted Beatrice leaving this house for good. I cannot abide her any longer. Amy, well, I wasn't sure about what she would think, but she'll come around. She has complete respect for me."

  George rolled his eyes, he knew better than that.

  "Then…you have no idea where they've gone?" George stood up, his alarm growing by the moment.

  "Sit down George." Martin hollered, his brows knitting together. "I may not love my wife, but she's isn't a complete ninny. Now, I've got something to tell you. Something that should please you greatly." Martin said with unconcern.

  George sat down once more, and this time he poured his own drink. Martin was losing his temper again, and that was bad news, but…there could be a silver lining in it for him.

  Everything had gone fine for George for the past six months and he didn't want Martin fowling things up.

  "We had a disagreement, that's all. Nothing to be alarmed over. She'll probably come running back here within the month. If I really feel the need to take her back, I can forgive her and let her live here again. Nevertheless, that's not what I want to talk to you about. What I want to tell you is about Clay Reno…"

  George scrutinized the old man. "What about him?" George tried to look unconcerned. But Martin could muck up the works if he wasn't careful. What had he done now?

  "I had his place torched the other day. It burned down, completely." Martin laughed, satisfied with his deed, as he took out a cigar and offered one to George. "He's finished."

  George took the cigar and stared at Martin as he proceeded to light the cigar. He studied the old man. He would hate to be on Martin's wrong side, but he had to know more. "So you are the one that did that…"

  George rolled the cigar between his fingers, and tasted the fine tobacco. Martin had nothing that wasn't the best. He had the biggest house in town, the best-kept lawn. His store was the only General Store in town. He rode in the finest carriage. Nothing but the best for Martin. That much they had in common.

  However, the man was insane and George knew it. Still, he might be the only one in the whole town who knew it. And people would still listen to Martin; he carried a lot of influence, especially with the older crowds.

  "That's right. I won't allow my daughter to get tangled up with that man again. He's not good enough for her. He has no breeding, so social standing; he has nothing but a plot of dirt." Martin stared at George now.

  Something in the way he said that had George paying attention. What was the old man up to? And why did he hate Clay Reno so? It didn't figure. After all, Amy was engaged to him now. And as far as he knew, Martin liked him.

  George seemed to consider his words. A slow calm settling over him. Just in the way he sat the chair with such a relaxed movement, told Martin he hadn't really shocked George at all.

  "I can't say I'm upset about it. Only, I'm sure Reno will blame me. But what makes you think Amy would even consider Clay any longer. He certainly didn't put up a fight to get her back when he came home. No, he congratulated her and wished her well." George frowned at the old man. "Can't say as I blame him for thinking it was me, either. He'd naturally think it. However, he hasn't approached me on it yet. I guess I should thank you for telling me."

  "You had your chance at him. You didn't get the job done. You gave him a bum leg, but you didn't kill him." Martin shot him a slight frown. "So I acted."

  "I shot him, because I believed he killed you." George stood up once more and started to leave. Martin wasn't going to push him around as easily as he had his wife and child. What was this old man trying to pull? George stared at him.

  "You think that much of me, do you?" Martin nearly laughed aloud.

  "Don't flatter yourself. I thought he murdered you. That's all. The law would have brought him in, one way or another. I was merely trying to help them along. I might not have killed him, but it sure delayed his return." George eyed him over his shoulder. A slight smile played at his lips. "You didn't do him any damage; he's already got the place back up, Martin. He's got help out there now.
It will be harder than ever to be rid of him. He's going to come after someone, and it won't be me, I can assure you."

  "And I thought you had some gall." Martin screwed up his face with dissatisfaction. "You have no guts at all, do you?"

  "You're the one that wants him dead now, not me. I've got what I wanted. I own half the town and I'm marrying your daughter. I have a sizable ranch, buying up all the land I can get my hands on. I don't have to worry about him any longer. He's history. If you're trying to get rid of him, you better do a better job than that. You back him into a corner, he'll come out fighting." George warned. "I know. I happen to know how much damage I did to his leg. I thought for sure he was dead. He won't be forgetting that. But he won't try to kill me over it either. He's so set on Amy having what she wants; he won't even fight me for her."

  "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" Martin razed.

  "As long as he leaves me and mine alone, I have no quarrel with the man." George grinned. "I'd say the better man won."

  "Well, I got news for you. Amy doesn't love you George. She's still in love with Reno. So you do have a problem, the same one I have." Martin laughed. "Clay Reno."

  George's expression changed from a smile to a foreboding kind of grimace. "If that's true, then we'll settle things between us, sure enough. However, for now, I'm leaving well enough alone. You've got him riled. Maybe enough to come after one of us. Only…he won't suspect you, will he? And if you succeed in killing him, I won't have a thing to worry over, will I?"

  "You're a fool. An egotistical fool. Of course, he won't suspect me. Only two people know about this you and my wife. That puts you in a spot, doesn't it George?"

  "So that's why you got rid of her, huh? Look Martin, we get along fine, because we understand each other. But…Watch what you call me, Martin. I could always turn this information over to the Sheriff and let him handle you." George challenged him.

  "The Sheriff wouldn't arrest me. I'm an outstanding citizen of this town. Besides, no one wants that Yankee trash to live here." Martin nailed him to the wall with his hateful glance.

 

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