by Penny Jordan
It must all be some terrible joke…some macabre folly conjured up by malign fate. It couldn’t be true! The shock of what she had just heard far outweighed her anger at Jay’s denunciation of her. Indeed, she could almost appreciate why he had made it. In his shoes…but she wasn’t in his shoes…
‘You didn’t know?’ Harvey was watching her narrowly. ‘Tip made no intimation?’
‘Nothing!’ Her voice shook. ‘He said nothing. I never…’
‘Oh, very clever…’ Jay’s sneer broke through her shock. ‘Very pretty and innocent, but it won’t wash. My grandfather spent his life building up this ranch, developing and protecting it. He would never have left any part of it to you without good reason…’
‘Jay, let me tell her the full terms of Tip’s bequest,’ Harvey intervened quietly.
Turning to Natasha he said patiently, ‘Tip has left you a full half-share in the land and the cattle as well as the house, provided you live here on the ranch for at least six months out of every twelve. Jay here is to remain in control of all policy decisions concerning the ranch. He has appointed both of you as the twins’ joint legal guardians…’
He paused, and Natasha managed to stammer, ‘But how could he do that without telling me? How…’
‘Never mind how. He did it,’ Jay told her grimly. ‘Tell her the rest, Harvey.’
‘Briefly, these are the terms of Tip’s will, but in consideration of you forfeiting all the rights contained in it, Jay is prepared to make you an immediate payment of two million dollars.’
An awesome silence filled the room; even the fan seemed to stop whirring, although Natasha knew that it had not. The silence came from within her and it was a silence compounded of shock and pain.
What was happening to her was ridiculous; it was like something out of a singularly unenterprising novel; it was unreal… Only it wasn’t any of those things, because it was real and it was happening, and she was feeling this appalling combination of pain and anger that deprived her of breath and left her feeling as though her whole world had been turned upside down.
When it righted again she was left with only two burning thoughts. The first was why had Tip done this to her…a woman who was almost a complete stranger to him? And the second was that if it took her the rest of her life to do it, she was going to show Jay how wrong he was in his savage condemnation of her. Before she had finished with him he would be grovelling before her in abject apology; he would be down on his hands and knees begging her for forgiveness.
A red mist swirled in front of her eyes, carrying her away on a dangerous flood of rage, and before it could retreat she heard herself saying passionately, ‘Only two million dollars! What sort of fool do you take me for? No, I’m staying…’
She almost took back her hot words when she saw the fierce rage heating those cold grey eyes, but pride armed her and wouldn’t let her down. Tip must have had a reason for what he had done, she told herself stoutly. She wouldn’t discover what that reason was by running away. Maybe Jay Travers could terrify other people into doing what he wanted, but he would soon discover that she didn’t allow herself to be dictated to by any man.
‘Think carefully, Natasha,’ Harvey Goldstein urged her calmly. ‘Two million dollars is one hell of a lot of money. You could live anywhere in the world on that…’ He made a small grimace. ‘Texas isn’t the best place in the world to live, no matter what Tip might have told you, and ranch life is hard on women…’
She had known all along that Harvey would be on Jay’s side, and now he was confirming it. Her mouth compressed bitterly. Did they think she was a complete fool? This ranch—the land alone was worth much more than four million dollars, but that didn’t matter. She wondered what they would say if she told them that right at this minute she had almost as much in her bank account in sterling as they were offering her. She toyed with the idea of telling them just for the pleasure of seeing the shock hit their eyes and then she closed her mind to the temptation.
If Tip, who had known of her financial status, had not seen fit to mention it, then neither would she. There was more to this than a simple bequest; even if she and Tip had been lovers, she knew he would hardly have rewarded her so generously for the gift of her body. And as it was they hadn’t even been more than very casual friends. So why… Why had he done it? She wondered about his mental state at the time he made his will and then dismissed the idea, knowing that, had there been any doubts to cast upon it, Jay Travers would already have cast them.
Tip had appointed her co-guardian of the twins along with Jay. That, in a way, concerned her more than his bequest of the land and the cattle, because it hinted to her that he had felt there might be something lacking in Jay’s care of them. The land, the money, these she could have turned her back on; but the twins…
Face it, she told herself sardonically, you want to stay, and not just because the twins could fill an empty space in your life. You want to stay because you want to prove to Jay Travers just how wrong he is!
Yes, it would give her a great deal of pleasure to show Jay that he wasn’t the all-knowing, all-invincible character he thought himself to be.
Now, at least Dolores’s antipathy, and Jay’s, too, was explained. She doubted she would have welcomed with open arms someone who was threatening to take over half of what she had thought of as hers. But that didn’t excuse Jay’s horrible insinuations about the nature of her relationship with Tip…
She studied him for a second, and then asked, ‘Did Tip tell you he and I were lovers?’
‘He didn’t need to.’ The harshness of his voice almost made her wince. ‘There’s no way he’d have handed over half of this place to you for any other reason.’
‘No.’ She smiled delicately at him, suddenly hating him with almost as much vigour as he seemed to hate her. How dared he make such ill-informed judgements about her? How dared he denigrate and insult her?
‘What about if he had grave doubts about his only grandson’s worthiness to inherit his land…’
There was a moment’s stunned silence, and then she watched the slow tide of red creep up over the dark skin, and the grey eyes turn murderous with fury.
‘Why, you…’
‘Jay, calm down! If Natasha is serious about fulfilling the terms of Tip’s will, the two of you will be living side by side. You’ll have to find a way to get along…
‘Lawyers… Goddamn you, Harvey! But then, it isn’t your problem is it? You don’t have to live with it—with her. Get her out of here before I do something that’ll send me to the electric chair…’
Much as she ached to defy him and stay, Natasha allowed Harvey to escort her out of the room.
‘I’m sorry about that, but naturally Jay’s very upset. He’s lived and breathed this ranch all his life, and for Tip to calmly hand over half of it to a complete stranger… Are you sure you won’t consider taking the money instead?’
‘If I did, would I still retain my co-guardianship of the girls?’ Natasha asked him testingly.
Harvey paused for a moment and then shook his head. ‘No. I don’t know why Tip put in that clause, but Jay doesn’t consider that you’d be…the right kind of influence on them…’
‘Why not? Because he thinks I slept with his grandfather?’
When there was no reply, save for a very embarrassed look from the lawyer, she shrugged carelessly. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m staying and there’s no way Jay can stop me… Is there?’
Again he shook his head.
‘No, but he can make it very unpleasant for you to stay,’ he warned her, ‘and I suspect he will. Way back, Jay has Indian blood in his veins, and no one can hold on to a grudge like an Indian.’
‘Are you warning me, Harvey, or threatening me?’ Natasha asked him softly with a mock-sweet smile.
As she watched him back off she felt slightly sorry for him. He was, after all, only carrying out his instructions. Nevertheless, she thought it best to make it plain right from the star
t that she wasn’t going to be easy to push around.
So Jay could make life hard for her, could he? Well, she had had life hard before—and she had survived…
CHAPTER FOUR
‘ARE you going to stay and look after us, like Gramps wanted?’
The twins had arrived upstairs in Natasha’s room shortly after lunch.
Much to her relief, Jay hadn’t put in an appearance at that meal, although it was obvious from Dolores’ manner that she knew about what had happened in the den, and also that she heartily disapproved of it.
‘Would you like me to?’ Natasha probed. Now that her temper had cooled, she was able to take a far more dispassionate view of the whole extraordinary affair. She couldn’t even begin to understand why Tip had left such an out-of-character will, and she suspected that, had Jay treated her with courtesy and kindness, she would have quite happily renounced all her rights under Tip’s bequest and gone straight home to London.
As it was…as it was, she had virtually committed herself to spending six months out of every twelve in this alien, hostile place, where even the staff looked upon her as an interloper, a fortune-hunter. Did they all think that she had earned her bequest by sleeping in Tip’s bed? If it hadn’t been so ludricrously out of character that she should even consider behaving in such a way, she might have been hurt. As it was, all she could feel was a vast enormity of astonishment, mingled with a pain that sprang from the unwanted knowledge that there was no one close enough to her to share her feelings. No one who knew her in the way that a parent or sibling could have known her and could have shared her rejection of the role cast for her.
The last time she had felt so aware of her aloneness had been in the early months after her parents’ death; and the deep intensity of her feelings then came back to haunt her now. She looked at the twins and remembered that they too had lost their parents; that they had an uncle, who was both remote and, it seemed, incapable of making rational and fair judgements of his fellow human beings. Through pride and anger she had already committed herself to staying at the ranch. The twins…
‘Yes, we do want you to stay,’ Cherry told her, interrupting her thoughts. ‘We like you, don’t we, Rosalie?’ She turned to her more silent twin for corroboration. ‘Gramps said we would—that was our secret—that he had chosen you specially to look after us. Uncle Jay never has time to come to PTA meetings or anything like that… He never takes us out of school for treats like the other kids’ folks do. He never has time.’
‘You could be our sort of adopted Mom, couldn’t she, Rosalie?’
As Natasha saw Rosalie’s confirmatory smile, a warm tide of pleasure filled her. Stupidly perhaps in the circumstances, she had wanted to stay…had needed an excuse to back up the decision she had made in the heat of the moment, and now she had it. Perhaps it was her Russian blood that wouldn’t allow her to back down from a fight. A fight? She grimaced a little to herself. Well, it would certainly be that…
To fulfil the terms of Tip’s will she had to spend six months out of every twelve actually living at the ranch, and she suspected that Jay was not going to go out of his way to make those six months easy for her.
Still, she had as much right to be here as him. Her chin tilted, and she ignored the truthful inner voice that objected to that statement. She had no real moral right to be here. It was only because of Tip’s will that she was…
She frowned, pleating the fine skin between her dark brows. She still couldn’t understand why Tip had made such a will. She couldn’t understand it at all. But there must have been some reason for it.
Had he had doubts about his grandson’s ability to run the ranch? But no, that couldn’t be the reason; after all, what did she know about cattle breeding? So why, then? Because he had been concerned about the lack of a female influence in the lives of his great-granddaughters? No, that didn’t quite ring true…
She might only have known Tip for a week, but during that week she had recognised the essence of the man. Shrewd and slightly calculating would have been the way she would have described him if asked…certainly not a sentimentalist. The more she thought about that will, the more convinced she became that Tip had had a definite purpose in doing what he had. But what was that purpose?
Perhaps if she stayed here long enough she might find out… Perhaps… Perhaps that was what Tip had wanted all along. For her to stay here. But why?
‘We’re going out riding. Want to come with us?’
‘Well, I’d certainly like to come down and watch,’ Natasha temporised. It had been a long time since she had last been on the back of a horse, and she knew that in this part of the States they rode with a different type of saddle from the one she had been used to. She hadn’t brought any proper riding gear with her, but she had her jeans…
‘Just let me get changed into something more suitable, and I’ll come down with you. Do you both have your own ponies?’ she asked, leaving the door open so that they could talk, as she walked through into her bedroom.
‘Yes, Uncle Jay bought them for us for our last birthday. Palaminoes…’
Natasha made the appropriate noises as she quickly changed into close-fitting jeans, soft boots and a cool cotton shirt. She would need a hat, but the one she had brought with her was a straw affair with a scarlet ribbon—hardly suitable to wear with the present outfit.
‘Golly, that was quick! You look real neat in jeans,’ Cherry approved. ‘Mom never wore them. She always wore silky dresses. She and Pop used to have rows about it, because she never tried to fit in with life on the ranch…’
Cherry was only innocently repeating conversation heard between her parents, but nevertheless Natasha felt guilty about not stopping her, all too conscious that if Jay were to overhear them he would probably accuse her of deliberately snooping on what he would no doubt consider to be private family matters.
‘Oh, all grown-ups quarrel from time to time,’ she said in response.
‘Not like Mom and Pop. They were going to get a divorce. I heard Mom saying so.’
This time it was Rosalie speaking, her blue eyes shadowed by painful memories.
Natasha felt her heart go out to her. No doubt her parents had not even known that their quarrels were overheard, but they had left their mark on both the twins, Natasha saw now.
‘Mom said that she didn’t love him any more. She loved…’
A small warning sound from Rosalie stopped Cherry from going on. So they did have some awareness that some things could not be talked about, Natasha recognised, as Cherry finished uncertainly, ‘Someone else.’
‘Have you ever been in love with anyone, Natasha?’
Cherry’s question caught her off guard. She paused with her hand on the sitting-room door, and debated about how best to answer the question. In the end, the simplest way was with the truth.
‘No, no, I haven’t,’ she admitted. ‘There was a boy when my parents were alive, but I was only fourteen at the time…and after the farm was sold…’
‘A farm! Did you once live on a farm? Uncle Jay said that you lived in London and that you wouldn’t know the first thing about ranch life…’
‘Well, I don’t,’ Natasha agreed, curtailing the anger spreading through her. Of course, Jay would have tried to poison the girls against her… That would be just like him! She was finding it hard to reconcile the bitter, sardonic man who had made no secret of his dislike and resentment of her, with the grandson Tip had raved about during their many conversations. And she was finding it even harder to understand why Tip had seen fit to hand over half of his grandson’s inheritance to a stranger, especially when he had appeared to consider Jay such a paragon.
As she remembered it, the only fault Tip had been able to find with his grandson had been his lack of a wife and children…sons.
‘The farm my parents had was tiny compared with this place.’
‘Tell us about it,’ Cherry demanded, slipping her hand into Natasha’s as they headed for the stairs.
>
On her other side, Rosalie took her other hand.
How on earth could she describe to children, used only to Texas, the greenness of her parents’ Cheshire farm? It would be impossible, so she temporised by promising to send home for some photographs to show them.
There were boxes of them in her flat, and the old lady who had the flat beneath her, and who had kindly agreed to pop in once a week and check that all was in order, would not mind parcelling up a couple of her albums and sending them off.
Her flat… She gnawed at her bottom lip, suddenly reminded that if she was going to be here for six months, she would have to do something about it. She couldn’t leave it standing empty, or rely on Mrs Oates for such a long period of time.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, through the open front door, Natasha saw a vehicle disappearing in a swirl of dust.
‘That will be Uncle Jay taking Mr Goldstein back to Dallas,’ Cherry remarked.
And that was another thing. If she was to stay here, she would need some form of transport. A wicked gleam suddenly lit her eyes, a way of getting back at Jay and confirming all his erroneous impressions of her, making her grin a little to herself. So he wanted to think she was a fortune-hunter, did he? Well, let him! He wanted pain? He could have it. And how!
Dolores materialised just as they were about to go out, her expression changing slightly as she saw Natasha’s jean-clad figure.
‘The girls are just taking me out to see their ponies,’ she told the housekeeper. Holding her eyes, she continued calmly, ‘You’ll know that I’ll be staying here for the next six months, Dolores. You must tell me if there is any way I can make myself useful to you during that time.’
