“Well, it’s my mistake,” she mumbled to herself and picked up the soap and began to lather her arms. She felt she had no alternative but to leave Tony. A raw, nagging ache filled her to think that Simone Lancier carried Tony’s child. Would she ever get over the empty feeling inside her? Even yet she had not shed a tear over her miscarriage or leaving Tony. Something must be wrong with her, she briefly realized, but couldn’t dwell upon anything but reaching the Little L. Starting a new life and seeing her uncle were her priorities now.
Gincie bustled into the room and laid out a pink taffeta gown with white rosettes on the low neckline. “This dress is too revealin’, Miss Laurel. That Seth’s eyes are gonna pop out of his head. Why don’t you wear that respectable green dress with the lace collar?”
“Because, dear Gincie, I’m going to do things with a flair from now on, and hang what people think.”
“You’re still hurtin’ and not thinkin’. Remember before you left New Orluns, you wanted to change your life. Well, you did. You got a good man back in Louisiana. You ought to go back and claim your man before that nasty Simone gets her claws in him too deep.”
Laurel ignored Gincie’s advice and continued bathing until Gincie realized that nothing she said was going to sink into Laurel’s brain. Half an hour later Laurel was attired in the daring pink gown and walked down the stairs to the dining room on Seth’s arm. Every eye was trained on her as they were seated, and she had a sense of déjà vu. She recalled wearing a daring dress the night Tony had first kissed her and how she had melted into strong arms. Pain flickered across her face, and Seth patted her hand.
“Would you rather go upstairs? We do have a long trip to the ranch in the morning.”
“No, I’d like to order our supper now. I’m not tired at all.” Suddenly she wasn’t physically tired, just emotionally spent. Seth’s concern for her well-being touched her. He didn’t seem to be a bad sort, yet she couldn’t help being suspicious of him and his motive for coming to Louisiana in the first place. However, she had no reason not to believe that her uncle was the force that drove him to come for her. Still, something she read in his eyes disturbed her. They contained a guarded look, a dark possessive quality when they settled on her face.
Yet, when Seth smiled at her, she discerned a lusty gleam flare in those blue orbs. With a start, she realized she didn’t find his attentions totally undesirable. Perhaps in time she might come to care for Seth if only she could forget Tony’s dark handsomeness. At that moment when Seth took her hand and kissed her fingertips, she was desperate enough to try.
~
Before dawn the next morning they left San Antonio, Seth seated on a spirited roan, riding alongside Laurel and Gincie’s carriage. As the veil of night lifted, the countryside opened into a panorama of rolling green hills and ancient trees, bathed by the first rays of a golden morning. Laurel caught her breath at the untamed, virginal beauty. Mexican junipers, evergreen and lush, dotted the roadside as well as tall stalks of white-blossomed yuccas.
The road followed along cypress-lined rivers, dipping down to the water’s edge and causing moments of unease for Gincie as the carriage precariously crossed to the other side. Passing farms of various sizes, Laurel couldn’t help observing that the cattle and sheep grazing nearby in vast stretches of green farmland, interlaced with wild bluebonnets, appeared contented and well-fed.
The coolness of the hill country morning caused a peaceful feeling to flow through her, the first she had felt in weeks. She realized why Lavinia and her uncle loved Texas. It was a place of enchantment. Seth glanced down at her from his horse, his face partially obscured by his wide-brimmed hat, and gave Laurel the opportunity to see him as the Texas cowpoke he thought he was. In a comfortable plaid shirt tucked into Levis and with boots on his feet, he no longer resembled the dandy who had arrived at Petit Coteau.
“What do you think of Texas so far?” he asked her and grinned.
“I think I’ve already fallen in love with it.”
“I hope that’s not all you fall in love with.” The charming grin revealed even teeth as he spurred his horse and galloped before the carriage.
“Watch out for him, Miss Laurel. That Seth ain’t like Mr. Tony.”
Laurel grimaced. “I hope not! And please, Gincie, don’t mention Tony’s name to me again. I want to forget I ever knew him. I’m starting life over again. Something I should have done months ago if I hadn’t met him.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gincie muttered, though she sounded unconvinced.
By the time the carriage rolled past the German settlement of Fredericksburg, the sun was setting. An orange glow had settled over the Cross Mountains in the distance when Seth pointed to a large ranch house at the base of the mountains.
“The Little L!” he shouted back.
Laurel craned her neck to get her first appreciative view of the Delaney ranch. A piece of wood, suspended across two thick fence posts, held a large wooden L surrounded by a circle in place. Beyond that, beneath a blood-red sky was the two-story ranch house built of gray granite from the nearby boulder-strewn hills of Bear Mountain. Some fifty feet away she discerned a barn and various smaller buildings, which she assumed were bunkhouses for the men who helped her uncle work the Little L. Farther away, the descending twilight began to obliterate the forms of the cattle on the open range.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Laurel gushed to Gincie, who didn’t seem the least bit impressed.
“I still think Petit Coteau is where you belong.”
“Do be quiet,” Laurel chastised her as the driver halted the carriage before the house. Seth jumped excitedly down from his horse, and grabbing Laurel’s hand, practically pulled her onto the porch.
“Father will be so pleased to see you,” he told her and pushed open the door to lead her into a large foyer with a highly polished wooden floor. A middle-aged Mexican woman glanced up in surprise from the flowers she was arranging in a vase on a round mahogany table in the foyer’s center.
“Señor Seth, we didn’t expect you. Your father will be much happy to see you again.”
Seth introduced the woman to Laurel as Rosita and inquired where Arthur and Lavinia might be found.
Rosita’s face clouded over for an instant. “Señor Delaney has felt unwell these last two weeks and has taken to his bed. Señorita Lavinia is upstairs reading to him.”
A subdued Seth escorted Laurel into the large parlor. A fireplace took up one half of a wall, and a leather-cushioned sofa, flanked by two matching brown chairs, stood in the center of the room. Red drapes framed the long windows on another wall and were pulled back to reveal the fiery peaks of the mountains. Rosita followed behind them, and Seth instructed her to see to Gincie’s wants. When Laurel and Seth were alone, Seth glanced up the stairway to the open balcony. His eye was trained on a large oak door in the middle of the hallway.
“We better go up and see Father now. I had hoped he’d be better, but I think he may be worse.”
Laurel gently touched Seth’s arm. “Would you rather see him alone first?”
Nodding, he began to ease his way up the stairs. “Wait here for now, while I see if he’s feeling up to seeing you.”
Laurel watched Seth enter Arthur’s room. She was standing by the sofa when Lavinia left Arthur’s room and closed the door behind her. Touching the smooth, polished surface of the handrail, she surveyed Laurel for a moment before descending.
Lavinia stopped in front of Laurel. “So you’ve really come. You left that handsome Tony Duvalier to come here. I can’t believe Seth accomplished that.”
The seriousness in Lavinia’s face and overall demeanor surprised Laurel. She thought her cousin would be pleased to see her at last. “You knew when we left New Orleans that I wanted to see Uncle Arthur. I don’t know why you should stare at me in such disbelief. I have finally arrived.”
“But I don’t understand why you’re here now, Laurel. You’re married to a handsome and wealthy man. What could have possesse
d you to leave him for this trip?”
Laurel threw down her reticule and sat on the sofa, gazing into the cold ashes in the fireplace. “Tony and I are getting divorced. I came here because I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be.”
“No! How did Seth manage that?” Lavinia blurted out, without thinking what she said.
Laurel looked at her with a quizzical expression on her face. “Seth didn’t manage anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tony and I had insurmountable problems. Seth has nothing to do with our divorce.”
“Really?”
Lavinia didn’t sound as if she believed her. “I assure you, Lavinia, that your stepbrother has been a gentleman at all times.”
“I just bet,” Lavinia mumbled under her breath, as Seth came out of her father’s room and ambled down the stairs.
“Father would like to see you,” he told Laurel, “but don’t stay for too long. He’s not very strong. He had some sort of an attack. His lungs are weak, and he coughs a great deal, but he insists he wants to talk to you.”
Laurel rose from the sofa and nodded that she understood. She walked up the stairs and opened the door to her uncle’s room.
The bright flame from an oil lamp on the bedside table cast a golden glow over the thin man who lay in the large four-poster bed. A patchwork quilt atop him almost drowned his slight form in a sea of color. Laurel tensed and wiped her perspiring hands on the calico material of her pink and white gown as Arthur Delaney lifted his head slightly from the pillows supporting him.
A thin hand beckoned to her, and her feet moved until she stood beside the bed and gazed down at the gaunt face of her uncle. She saw that his hair, though predominantly gray, still contained streaks of red, and his green eyes were alert as he looked at her.
He pointed to her bonnet. “Take … it … off.” His voice was no more than a whisper.
With trembling fingers, Laurel removed her pink bonnet, and her hair fell in long, cascading curls around her shoulders. Arthur smiled. “You … look like … Emily.”
“Not as beautiful, I’m afraid,” Laurel told him and sat in a chair near the bed.
“Just like her.”
“I don’t want to overtax you, Uncle Arthur. If you’d rather I go…”
“No. Stay. I wanted to see you again. I haven’t been a … good uncle to you.”
“Don’t speak about the past now. You must rest. When you’re feeling better, we can talk.”
She began to get up, but his hand weakly grabbed at her arm, “Don’t go yet.”
Sitting back down, she noticed a book on his bed and picked it up. “Would you like me to read to you for a while?”
Arthur nodded, and Laurel began to read aloud as he watched her until he drifted off to sleep.
~
Seth sat on the porch and watched night descend. Lavinia stood behind him, half-leaning on a stone pillar. Her eyes locked with his when she spoke.
“You accomplished the impossible, I see. Congratulations, Seth.”
Seth laughed and acknowledged her compliment with a nod. “I told you I’d break up their marriage.”
“How did you do it? Laurel was in love with Tony Duvalier. I think she still is.”
“Don’t ask questions, Lavinia. The conditions surrounding the breakup are unimportant. Besides, the marriage was in trouble when I arrived at Petit Coteau. I helped things along, that’s all.”
“Laurel isn’t going to fall in love with you.”
Seth’s eyes hardened to an ice blue. “She better, or we’re both going to be out in the cold. The old man is very ill, probably going to die soon. I can’t see him rallying this time. Then where will we be? We’ll have to sell the ranch, and I know you don’t want to let go of the Little L, nor do I. That leaves Laurel to provide the money. She’ll simply have to marry me. At the very least provide some funding to keep the ranch afloat if Arthur dies. I spoke to Tom Evans a little while ago. He said the Kansas market isn’t interested in our stock because of last year’s cattle fever. Arthur won’t admit there’s a problem, but Tom said he and the other men are thinking of leaving us and working for other ranches because we can’t meet our payroll. Now, tell me, Miss Know-It-All, that Laurel won’t fall in love with me and marry me.”
Everything Seth said was true, but she hated this cold and calculating side to him and detested that she too sometimes viewed life in the same fashion. She doubted if Laurel had ever seen this side of Seth. If she had, Lavinia doubted she would even have come to Texas with him. But Lavinia didn’t want Seth to think he had gained the upper hand and wished to wipe that cocky smile off his handsome face.
“I didn’t say Laurel wouldn’t marry you. I said she’d never fall in love with you. There’s a difference there, my darling stepbrother. A very large difference.”
Lavinia turned and went inside, slamming the door after her. Seth threw down his cheroot in disgust and watched the flame burn away.
~
Seth’s prediction that Arthur wouldn’t rally again proved wrong. Two days after Laurel’s arrival, his cough abated and his appetite increased. By the end of her first week at the Little L, Laurel saw a definite filling out in Arthur’s face, and he felt strong enough to sit on the porch with her in the evenings. Each afternoon, just before sunset, Tom Evans, Arthur’s foreman, would help the ailing man to the porch and sit with them to watch the sunset. One evening Seth helped Arthur when Tom didn’t appear.
“What happened to Tom?” Laurel asked.
Arthur heaved a disappointed sigh. “He gave his notice to me the other day. He took a job at a ranch closer to San Antonio and is probably packing his duds.”
“Wasn’t he happy here?”
“Sure, but—”
Seth interrupted. “Don’t talk ranch business with Cousin Laurel, Father. I doubt she’s interested in the help.”
“I’m very interested in the Little L,” Laurel said icily, not caring about Seth’s deciding her interests. “Tom told me that he has worked for you for over ten years. I can’t believe he took another job. I know how much you trust and rely upon him.”
“That’s true,” Arthur said, “but Tom’s pretty young yet and has to make a living. He’s planning to get married. Got a girl from San Antonio he’s been courting for a few years now. Guess he wants to live there and make more money. I can’t pay him or the other hands what they’re worth right now. Ever since the cattle fever struck last year, I’ve lost a number of my herd, and the Kansas markets don’t want my stock. Unless I get a buyer for my cattle, the Little L is going to go under.”
This was the first Laurel had heard of her uncle’s financial plight. She had thought the business reversals she had heard about last year had taken a turn for the better. Apparently not. Why hadn’t Lavinia told her about this? Surely she had known when she was in New Orleans. Was that why she was so eager to wed a wealthy man like Auguste St. Julian? And why hadn’t Seth told her about the Little L’s financial condition?
She stole a glance at Seth, who turned his back and sat on the porch railing. Arthur pulled the light blanket resting on his legs tighter about him. “Are you chilled?” she asked him.
Arthur admitted he was and that he would like to go inside. Seth hauled his long legs from the other side of the railing and got up to carry his stepfather to his room. Laurel went with them, and though he dismissed Seth, Arthur requested her to stay.
She sat beside him on the bed when he pointed to the spot and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’ve been very sad since you got here. Would you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help you.”
“No one can help me. My problems have nothing to do with you.”
“You’re sad because of your husband.”
Laurel sighed. “You’re very astute, Uncle Arthur.”
“I know what it’s like to be sad over a lost love, Laurel. Now tell me what happened.”
For some reason, Laurel felt quite at ease with Arthur and knew he genuinely want
ed to help her. Not that he could, but by the time the story of her marriage to Tony tumbled out of her, she was crying tears she had held inside her for the past miserable weeks. Arthur tenderly pulled her head against his chest and stroked her hair.
“Now, now, don’t cry,” he said soothingly. “Nothing’s as bad as you think. Believe your fath … your uncle when I tell you that. Everything works out for the best.” He lifted her tear-stained face to look into eyes that matched his own. “Believe me when I tell you that, Laurel. One day you’ll forget all your pain.”
“I’m going to try.” She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “Thank you for listening, for caring. I feel much better now.” Laurel kissed his cheek quickly and left the room.
“That’s what fathers are for,” he said to himself. Arthur rang the little bell beside his bed, and when Rosita appeared, he asked her to fetch Tom Evans from the bunkhouse. He had a telegram to send.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Laurel tucked her plaid shirt in the top of her jeans and surveyed herself in the mirror one last time. She nearly laughed aloud at the sight of herself dressed like a cowpoke. The expensive, flat-heeled leather boots she had purchased in Fredricksburg the day before pinched her feet a bit, but the clerk had assured her that the boots would outlast her. She placed the wide-brimmed felt hat on her head, conscious of Tom Evans’s words that without its protection, the sun would play havoc with her fair skin under the Texas sky. Laurel thought she looked quite different and unrecognizable, though the clothes molded to her curves in a manner that men might find distracting. However, Laurel couldn’t do anything about her physical attributes. But Gincie was dismayed by her less than feminine attire and insisted she tie back her hair with a red ribbon, and Laurel had bowed to this one touch of femininity.
“A lady doesn’t wear men’s clothes.” Gincie eyed Laurel in distaste and stood with arms akimbo beside Laurel’s bed.
Midnight Flame Page 25
