Violet

by Greenwood, Leigh

  But tonight, the minute he stepped from behind George and come face to face with her, he knew he loved her.

  Then she had backed away from him.

  "Aren't you going to make some attempt to defend yourself?" Rose demanded.

  "What do you want me to say?"

  "There's nothing you can say to excuse what you did."

  "Then there's no point in saying anything."

  Rose directed a perplexed looked at him then said, "Come dance with me."

  Jeff was certain she couldn't want to dance unless she meant to murder him in the middle of the dance floor. But Rose took him by the arm and pulled him along. He moved as in a trace. He didn't even notice when Rose made an unexpected turned and led him to an area set aside for people who wanted a little privacy. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. He sat.

  "Why must you always behave like an angry nest of hornets?" Rose asked as soon as he was seated.

  He didn't answer. He couldn't. He felt like the victim of a thousand hornets.

  Rose watched him closely. The angry flame in her eyes had died down. "Tell me what's wrong."

  Jeff started as one coming out of a spell.

  "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to gather his wits.

  "Jeff Randolph, I've known you for nearly fifteen years. We've fought, disagreed, even disliked each other, but you've never been mean or vicious. You were both tonight. Why?"

  He couldn't answer. It wouldn't make any difference. She wouldn't understand the demons that drove him. She never had.

  "If you don't want to tell me, just say so, but I know something's wrong, and I know it has to do with Violet."

  "How do you know that?"

  Rose frowned impatiently. It made her mouth hard. "You take one look at Violet with another man, act like a jealous lover, and ask how I know something is wrong!" She made a noise what sounded an awful lot like derision. "Maybe you've forgotten you apologized to Fern, Iris, and myself for all the nasty things you said about us. We were almost ready to send for the doctor. We were certain you had fallen on your head."

  Jeff didn't smile. He didn't feel like it. He hated having people know anything about what was going on inside him, but just now he didn't care enough to think up some plausible excuse. Nothing had changed. His life was always going to be the same. He didn't care about much of anything anymore.

  He gathered himself and stood up. "I've got work to do. I'll walk you back."

  "Is that all you have to say -- you have work to do?"

  "Yes."

  "That woman means something to you, Jeff. Don't try to deny it. Something happened tonight -- I have no idea what -- but if you're not careful, you're going to let it cost you something you want very much."

  "George must know we're not on the dance floor."

  "Jeff Randolph, there are times when you make me so angry I could shake the life out of you."

  "Don't bother. It's already gone. Now let's go back before he comes looking for you. I don't know if he'd believe I'd try to run off with you, but you should never underestimate the gullibility of a Randolph."

  Rose took Jeff by the arm and forced him to look at her. "You love her, don't you?"

  "She's a Yankee, Rose. A real, New England bred, raised, and trained Yankee. She thinks Robert E. Lee was the biggest villain of the war. How could I love somebody like that?"

  "I don't know. I imagine you fought it as hard as you could, but you do love her."

  Jeff took Rose by the elbow and they started back.

  "I was attracted to her. She's a lovely woman."

  "I'm not a fool, Jeff Randolph. Don't talk to me unless you intend to tell me the truth."

  But Jeff didn't mean to tell anyone the truth. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could forget it himself.

  * * * * *

  Violet used Harvey's handkerchief to dry her eyes. "Thanks for listening to me," she said. "I feel remarkably stupid, but I feel better for having somebody to talk to."

  Harvey patted her hand. "I only wish you'd fallen in love with me instead."

  "So do I," Violet said. "You're a wonderful man. You'll make some woman a perfect husband."

  "Are you certain you can't be that woman?"

  "There's no cure for stupidity," Violet said. "Once you're stupid, you're stupid for the rest of your life."

  "I take that to mean no."

  "I'm sorry. I wish I could, truly I do, but I love that miserable, festering mass of anger and self pity. I can't for the life of me figure out why."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Keep working, never set eyes on him again, go back to Massachusetts as soon as I can. I don't know. I'd leave right now if I had the money."

  "I can give you--"

  "You're doing more than enough for me as it is. Now we'd better get back. Miss Settle is going to want a full report on the evening. I've got to think of something to tell her."

  Harvey gave the driver the signal to start the carriage. They had stopped two blocks away from the school to give Violet time to calm herself.

  "I'm worried about what Clara Rabin will tell her," Violet said.

  "I'll back anything you say," Harvey assured her.

  "I wasn't discreet. I imagine half the people there saw me leave at a gallop."

  "Just tell her you were about to be ill. She can't blame you for that."

  The carriage turned the corner onto Champa Street.

  "After the trouble I've caused her, I imagine she's ready to believe anything of me."

  "Eleanor is a little rigid, but she's not--"

  Violet grabbed Harvey's arm. "That's Jeff!" she said, pointing to a man who had just gotten out of a carriage in front of the school. "I don't want to see him."

  Harvey called to the driver to stop the carriage. "We can wait here until he leaves."

  "You don't know Jeff. He won't leave. He'll wait all night if necessary."

  "Surely not."

  "You'll see."

  A short time later, Jeff came out to the road, sent the carriage away, and returned to the porch to wait.

  "I'll speak to him," Harvey volunteered.

  "No. It won't solve anything. I need some place to stay until tomorrow."

  "You can use my house."

  "It would ruin me."

  "I'll spend the night elsewhere."

  "It wouldn't make any difference."

  "Then go to a hotel."

  "It would amount to the same thing."

  "I can't think of any place where your reputation won't be in jeopardy."

  "I can," Violet said. "I know the perfect place."

  * * * * *

  Jeff looked at his watch. 10:21 pm. He didn't know where Violet and Harvey could have gone. He had expected her to be in the dormitory when he reached the school. He would wait a little while. He had to see her.

  He had been a fool. He had let Philip Rabin get him mad, play on his fears, plant one pernicious thought in his head. Then when he saw Violet leaning on Harvey's arm, he could think of nothing but that she didn't want him because of his arm. True to the habit of years, he had jumped to conclusions. His tongue had followed up by saying the most hurtful things he could think of.

  Then as he stormed out of the hotel, too angry to speak to anyone he passed, his hand had delved into his pocket to finger an envelope there. As he left the hotel, he remembered it was a note from Miss Settle, one he'd been too busy to read earlier. He had thrust it into his pocket and forgotten it. He read it by the soft light of a street lamp.

  Afterward, he felt like a fool, a cruel, meanspirited fool. He desperately wanted to find Violet, to explain, to beg her forgiveness. He loved her, God forgive him. He didn't know how it had happened, but he did. He thought she loved him, but he didn't know if she loved him enough to forgive him for what he'd done tonight. He had to find out.

  He looked at his watch again. He couldn't stand around waiting. He would look for her.

  * * * * *

  Jeff ra
ng Harvey's bell again. No answer. It was the second time he had come by. It was the second time no one answered.

  Jeff's eagerness had waned. He couldn't figure out where Violet could be. He didn't know why she hadn't returned to the school. He didn't know why Harvey hadn't come home. All kinds of horrible thoughts chased themselves through his mind, but Jeff did his best to ignore them, to keep his faith in Violet.

  She wouldn't have stayed out all night with Harvey. He just knew she wouldn't. But if not, where were they?

  * * * * *

  "She still hasn't come home," Beth said. "I'm worried sick about her."

  "She didn't send a message?"

  "Not a word."

  Jeff looked at his watch. 4:07 am. He might as well accept it. Violet wasn't coming home. She wasn't sick. He'd checked every hospital in Denver. He couldn't find her at any hotel.

  Clearly she didn't want to see him.

  He had felt hope wane over the last hours. She didn't love him. She couldn't and disappear like this. She would know he didn't mean what he said. She would know he would want to see her as soon as he cooled off. He would know he couldn't sleep until he had.

  But she didn't love him.

  Or didn't care.

  He walked down the flagstone path. When he reached the road, he headed in the direction of Fourteenth Street and his house. It was time to go home. It was time to realize it was over. Whatever hope he had was gone. And he had no one to blame but himself.

  * * * * *

  "Fern said I would find you hot and sweaty."

  Jeff looked up to see George entering his training room.

  George wrinkled his nose. "This place smells as bad as a cow barn. And you said Texas stank."

  "It does," Jeff said, sitting up. "That's all for today, Ed. Same time tomorrow."

  "I thought I might talk you into coming out to the ranch for the weekend," George said.

  Jeff eyed his brother. "They don't want me there, especially with the house full of relatives. That's usually the time everybody hopes I'll work all weekend."

  "William Henry and Elizabeth arrived from Texas."

  "They're your children, not mine."

  George settled himself in a chair, not the least bit disturbed by Jeff's answers or the knowledge Jeff knew George had an ulterior motive for this visit. Ed began putting away all the equipment.

  "They're worried about you. After last night, you couldn't expect anything else," George said, his look veiled.

  "Does that include you?" Jeff asked as he dropped the towel from around his waist and shrugged into a robe. Now that he had cooled down, he felt cold.

  "I'm not certain worry is the best word, but it'll do. You can't go around apologizing to all and sundry after fifteen years of being a son-of-a-bitch, show up at a charity ball and insult a woman in public, then not expect people to wonder. The general consensus is that something cataclysmic happened to you. However, since there has been no record of seismic activity in Denver during the past week, speculation is rife."

  "Good. I'd hate for the family to have nothing to talk about."

  "There's no shortage of topics, not with two women pregnant and a third coming to join them in the spring."

  "I'm surprised they even remembered me."

  "You underestimate the family's interest in you."

  "I'm well aware of my value as an irritant. I give everybody a common annoyance so they won't have time to realize how little they have in common."

  Ed picked up an armload of towels and left the room.

  Some of the sunshine seemed to go out of George's expression. "When you said what you did to Rose and the others, I hoped you'd finally come to terms with the anger that's been locked inside you all these years. I didn't know what might have happened, but I hoped it had made you happy. I couldn't have wanted it for anyone more than you."

  Jeff felt the ball of angry resistance dissolve. Ever since he could remember, George had been trying to fix what couldn't be fixed. Of all the family, he came closest to understanding how Jeff felt.

  "You'll be happy to know nothing cataclysmic happened. The other night when we were trying to convince that doctor to come see Fern, Violet told him Fern would die."

  "I was afraid of that."

  "I realized if she died, I would never have thanked her for the good she's done for Madison. The same goes for Rose and Iris. That was all. Nothing more than a little belated fair play."

  George's skepticism was blatant. "There's more to it than that, but if you don't want to tell me, I won't ask." He got to his feet. "I'd better be going. Monty is organizing this rodeo for Rose. I have to keep an eye on him to make sure it won't grow so big I have to bring up half of Texas on the next train."

  "Sit back down George. Now that you're here, there's something I want to talk to you about."

  George settled back into his chair.

  "I'm thinking about resigning from the bank. It's time I go back to Virginia."

  Jeff hated having to explain anything to George or Rose. The rest of his family took what he said at face value, and that was the end of it. Not George or Rose. They would listen to every word, remember the inflection of each sound, the way he looked, the way he stood, whether he fidgeted or stood still, whether he looked them in the eye or avoided their gaze. Then they would come to a pretty fair understanding of what Jeff had tried so hard to hide from them.

  "Isn't this rather sudden?"

  "Not really. I'd been hoping the whole family would want to return. You told me they wouldn't, but I still hoped. Well, I finally realized nobody wants to go back except me. If I want to get married, I'd better go before I get so old nobody will have me."

  "Why are you going back to Virginia?"

  "I've always meant to go back."

  "I know that. I just want to know what you hope to accomplish you can't do here. You realize the family will miss you. There's no one to take your place."

  "Madison could. You, too, if you wanted."

  "Neither of us could do half as well as you."

  "I'm going."

  "Nobody will try to stop you."

  Jeff could feel George looking at him, trying to see inside his head. And heart. "You still want to know why, don't you?"

  "Wouldn't you if I suddenly announced I was going to sell the ranch and run off a thousand miles to a place where I no longer had any family or connections? The family needs you. It depends on you. We'll need some time to decide what to do about your leaving. I'm not the only one who'll want to know the reason."

  "I'm thirty-seven, George. I can't keep putting off my life."

  "What have you been doing these past fifteen years?"

  "Waiting."

  "Waiting for what?"

  "For everything. For a life that could never be again. Rose says I've been a great fool most of my life. She's right. I finally learned what you tried to tell me years ago. It's over, gone, vanished. Nothing will bring it back. You see, I thought if we could all go back, somehow it would. That was stupid. I know that now. I guess I just wanted it so badly I wouldn't let myself see the truth."

  "What are you going to do when you get there?"

  "I don't know. I've talked about the disabled veterans my whole life, but I've never done anything for them. Maybe it's not too late."

  "When did you start thinking about that?"

  "I've had the idea for some time now." He wasn't about to tell George he'd gotten it from Violet. "I'm sure Virginia can use a banker who's interested in keeping money in the state."

  "Are you going to rebuild Ashburn?"

  "I don't know. I'll probably wait until I get married to decide."

  "Do you have anybody in mind -- for your wife, I mean? You haven't been back in ten years."

  He couldn't tell George he was going back without having picked out a bride, but George must know that already. He would also know the prospects were slim.

  Most girls of marriageable age were too young to remember the war or understand
how it affected the men who fought in it. Their parents had told them about it, but they hadn't experienced it. It wasn't real to them. It hadn't been real for Julia Wilcox. It would be even less real for younger girls.

  He was scared. He wouldn't admit it to George, but he was scared right down to his toes. He'd always said he was going back, but he'd never actually decided to do it until now. He knew he would only get one chance. If it didn't work now, he would spend the rest of his life in Denver, Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco, some city that meant nothing to him.

  He had to belong. He had to feel there was a place that needed him. Part of that feeling had to come from a woman who wanted him for her husband and lover, not because he belonged to a famous family or because he was rich. It was a tall order to fill, maybe more difficult than anything he'd done in his life, but he had to try.

  Violet could have done it. If he hadn't made such a fool of himself at the ball, she might have. She didn't care about his arm, the past, or his terrible bitterness. She loved him just as he was.

  He had to find her, talk to her. Maybe she couldn't love him any longer -- he hoped she could even though he knew he didn't deserve it -- but he couldn't leave without seeing her again.

  "I don't have answers to your questions," Jeff told George. "I just know it's time I go back."

  George regarded his brother in silence for a long time. Finally he said, "I was hoping you would change your mind. We've been gone twenty years. A lot has happened since then. Nothing will be the same as you remember it."

  "I'm not the same, either. Maybe we'll fit better than you think."

  "Then I have just one thing to ask of you."

  "What?"

  "Before you go, make certain you know what you're looking for. You can't go back to Virginia just because it's there. You have to be looking for something you can't find anywhere else, something you can't live without any longer."

  "Is that all?"

  "No. Decide what you're going to do if you can't find it."

  * * * * *

  Violet stood rigid before Miss Settle, unable to believe her ears. She had been fired. Actually, she was being thrown out. Miss Settle expected her to be off the school property before nightfall. Her secretary, Miss Nicholson, forced to witness the interview, cowered in the corner.