Savage Land

by Janet Dailey

  Only Jase ignored the change in her. His subtle revenge was unique. He would ride off in the morning, as if on a day's work, and not return for two or three days. But his reappearance was always timed to coincide with Coley's presence with his grandfather, so that she could witness their maliciously cruel word-slinging matches. Only when Jase was absent was there ever a peaceful meal. Their bitter quarrelling and vicious jibes seemed to be the only conversation at the table.

  It was as if there was no gentleness left in Jase. His face had turned to stone, the expression never changing, always cynical and mocking. His eyes were like an eagle's, harsh and piercing. Oh, yes, Coley thought, the name Savage suited him very well.

  The burden of her guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders as she replaced the hairbrush on her dressing-table. At least last night she had shown Jase that he had won. It had been during the evening meal amidst one of their bitter arguments that Coley had finally lost control of her emotions. The heated dispute over some petty thing had driven her to the point where she couldn't take any more. She had dropped her silverware with a clatter and tipped over her chair in her frantic desire to get away. She remembered that she had stopped at the doorway, halted by Aunt Willy's imperious call, to look back at Jase. He had raised a quieting hand to Willy.

  'But she didn't even ask to be excused,’ Aunt Willy had protested.

  Jase had given her a reproachful, silencing glance before turning back to Coley. He had stood there, looking arrogantly across the room with narrowed eyes. Then, with head bowed, Coley had raced out the door and up to her room, an ignominious exit but a desperate one.

  Funny, when she looked in the mirror now she expected to see some starched matronly person instead of this youthful shell of a young woman looking back at her with haunted eyes. Cupid's arrow which had struck so swiftly had left an open wound in her heart. And despite everything, she still loved Jase. There was the cruelty of the whole situation, that those few brief words of anger to the man she now loved could destroy the fire that had flamed shortly between them. Her great hopes of bringing peace to the family had resulted in a full-fledged war. How many more battles were left before the end came? And how could there ever be a victory for either side?

  Coley glanced at the alarm clock on her dressing-table. It was time for Uncle Ben's morning tea. Lately it had become a ritual for Coley to bring him his tea, a welcome ritual for her because it filled her morning. She had grown to like the dark panelled study, drawing comfort from its stern interior. No longer did she desire to throw wide the curtains and let the sunshine in. She revelled in the gloom just as she once revelled in the light.

  There was no need to hurry as she made her way slowly out the room and down the steps. Maggie would have the tray prepared. Nothing was demanded of Coley except to carry it into her uncle's den, occasionally comment to about the weather, and, after an hour or so, return the tray to the kitchen. It was just as well, she thought to herself. Her wounds were too fresh and painful for her mind to dwell on anything but Jase.

  She picked up the tray sitting on the kitchen counter, nodded absently to the stern housekeeper and walked quietly towards the den. Entering the room without knocking, she placed the tray on the desk. She poured a cup for herself and Ben before settling herself in the huge leather armchair that cradled her deeper into the gloom.

  'If these cattle prices hold, we'll have a real nice profit this year,’ Ben commented, without taking his gaze from the books he was studying. When Coley failed to reply, his hawk-like eyes glanced at her above the steaming cup he brought to his lips. ‘Well, aren't you going to say anything?'

  'What?’ Coley asked in a dazed voice before remembering just what he had said. ‘Oh, yes, that will be great.'

  'Your enthusiasm is overwhelming,’ the man replied with a rueful shake of his iron-grey head. He peered at her intently beneath his unruly eyebrows. ‘Not too long ago you would have made some comment giving credit to Jase. Have you finally learned some truth about that unscrupulous foreman of mine?'

  'Uncle Ben, please!’ Coley begged quietly, shifting uncomfortably in her chair at his deliberate lack of reference to Jase as his grandson. ‘Your tea's going to get cold if you don't drink it.'

  'Don't change the subject with me, young lady,’ Ben growled. ‘When I ask a question I expect an answer.'

  'There's enough quarrelling around this house these days without you and me starting in.’ Coley raised the cup to her lips to hide the trembling of her chin.

  'What's the matter, child? Were you disillusioned into believing the sheep's clothing was real and there wasn't a wolf inside?’ the old man snorted. ‘It's about time those ridiculous images of a knight in shining armour stopped drifting through your head and you saw Jason for what he is, an unspeakably cruel man who firmly believes the end justifies the means. But then, of course, he hasn't got the Slash S yet, has he?'

  'That's rather like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?’ Coley said bitterly, sitting her cup rather abruptly on the flat surface of the magazine table. ‘Jase wasn't responsible for anyone's death. So what kind of a grandfather does that make you, when you can sit there and tell me that you believe your own flesh and blood would allow his brother to die?’

  'So the thick skin isn't so very thick after all,’ Ben said, leaning back in his wheelchair to allow Coley to see the satisfied smile on his face and the devilish gleam in his eyes. ‘I'd almost decided you were a zombie, incapable of any emotion. But last night when you ran out of the dining room like the chicken being chased by a hatchet, I decided that maybe there was some life in the old girl yet.'

  'This is the most sadistic family I've ever met!’ Coley retorted. ‘I've never known anyone who could get so much pleasure out of engaging in vicious quarrels.'

  'Anger tends to loosen the tongue and let the truth flow out,’ Ben snapped, wheeling his chair out from behind the desk.

  'No,’ Coley replied, shaking her head slowly. ‘Anger is like a whip lashing out at old wounds to prevent them from healing.'

  'Forgive and forget, that's your motto, huh?'

  'If you can't forgive, you can't forget and vice versa,’ Coley replied with far more calmness than she felt.

  'And that's what you expect of me, isn't it?’ Ben demanded suddenly, bending forward in his chair to scowl at Coley. ‘You expect me to forget that Jase stood by and let his own brother die because he knew that Rick would inherit this ranch, and now I'm to welcome him back into the fold with open arms.'

  'But he didn't do that,’ Coley cried, the hurt choking her breast.

  'That's your heart speaking, not your head,’ Uncle Ben mocked cynically.

  'Yes, yes, it is!’ Coley announced with a shrill cry, hopping agitatedly out of the chair to stand before him, her fists clenched in anger. ‘I love him. I love him so much that I wouldn't care if he had killed his brother. I would marry him tomorrow if he'd have me. If I thought for one minute that I could take him away from here, I'd do it. But no, you've got him so weighed down with the guilt of his brother's death that he's sentenced himself to remaining in your prison. He could no more run away from you and your horrible accusation than you could if you were in his place. Instead he's condemned himself to staying here with a grandfather who loathes him, who never misses an opportunity to call him a murderer to his face. How severe a punishment do you require? That bull out there, that poor, dumb animal, took your one grandson's life and permanently scarred the other when he attempted to save his brother. And you're still busy extracting another pound of flesh. I think you're despicable and hateful, and I don't see how anyone, least of all Jase, could care what you think. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't stay another minute in this house!'

  'Stop it!’ Ben shouted, his face red with anger. ‘You don't even know what you're talking about. You weren't there the night Rick was killed. You didn't lie there holding him in your arms while his very life flowed out of him! How can you stand there and judge me when you don't even know wh
at happened that night?'

  'I know,’ Coley asserted viciously, shaking with rage. ‘I know. I had a very detailed account of what happened from Tony. He told me how Rick had gone into town and come home drunk. I know about how he used to play like a rodeo down in the bull pens. But that night his bravado had come from a bottle and his reflexes were non-existent. It was Rick who caused his own death. Sure, his screams brought Jase, but where were the rest of you? Were you so firmly entrenched in your snug little bed that you didn't hear your own grandson? By the time Jase got there, the damage had probably already been done and the outcome a certainty. But did your cowardly, murdering Jase wait for reinforcements? No, he jumped into the pen and had his cheek ripped open for the effort. So don't tell me that I don't know what happened.'

  Coley's anger blinded her from seeing Ben's white face with the tinge of blue around his lips, as he stared blankly up at her.

  'But Rick said—’ Ben's voice was faint and broken, ‘he kept crying out for Jase not to stand there, begging him to help. He died crying out for Jase.'

  'Of course he would call out for him—after all, he was his brother, wasn't he?’ Coley cried bitterly.

  'But why?’ Uncle Ben began. His face grew ghostly white as he whispered, ‘If it wasn't Jase, who was standing there?'

  'I really don't know,’ Coley answered sarcastically before turning away from him. ‘It was probably a figment of his imagination.'

  A convulsive jump from Ben's chair tamed her attention back to him. Her hand leapt to her mouth as she stared horror-stricken at the white face of her unconscious uncle slumped in his chair.

  'Uncle Ben,’ she whispered, reaching out towards him, touching his arm hesitantly. ‘Uncle Ben!’ she screamed.

  She realized he must have had a heart attack. ‘I've got to get help,’ she thought, and dashed madly out of the room calling frantically for Maggie and Aunt Willy. The housekeeper came flying out of the kitchen to meet Coley in the hallway where she managed to explain with very little lucidity what had happened. Maggie bustled back into the kitchen to the telephone extension, while Coley rushed back to the den.

  Entering the room, she came to an abrupt halt. Ben wasn't in the wheelchair. It sat empty in front of her. A sound from the side of the room turned her horror-widened eyes from the chair. He was lying on the couch and Jase was standing over him beating his chest with his fist.

  'Jase, no!’ Coley screamed, rushing over to throw herself on his back and tug ineffectually at him. ‘No, Jase, no! Don't kill him! Please, Jase, don't!'

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pulled at his arm, but he shrugged her off.

  'Coley, stop it!’ he shouted, turning an angry and anxious face towards her. ‘His heart stopped. I'm trying to save him!'

  A trembling relief gripped her legs as she reached behind her for a chair to support her. How blind she was! Jase was attempting a heart massage and she had just accused him of trying to murder his grandfather! Finding the chair, she collapsed with a sob, to sit with tears frozen on her cheeks as she watched his desperate attempts to save his grandfather. What if Uncle Ben died? It would be her fault. Oh, why had she had to quarrel with him? Why hadn't she remembered he was an invalid? She bit her lip to prevent her growing hysteria from escaping.

  'It's my fault, Jase,’ she whispered, glancing beseechingly at the scarred face. ‘He's going to die, and it's my fault.'

  'Don't go getting hysterical on me,’ he reprimanded sharply, not taking his eyes off his grandfather's face as be continued pounding on the unconscious body. ‘Go and make sure the doctor's on his way.'

  Her head jerked back as if he had slapped her. What had she expected, sympathy? After all the things she had said to him, why had she expected sympathy from Jase? With shaking legs, she stumbled out, meeting Aunt Willy who was rushing into the room. Coley's pleading eyes as she glanced at her aunt must have effectively foretold the gravity of the situation because the older woman hurried to the couch.

  Coley wasn't needed. No one needed or wanted her. She continued her stumbling pace to her room, her vision obscured with tears, and flung herself on to the bed to sob out her shame.

  She didn't know how long she had lain there when she heard the door of her room opening. Uncle Ben was dead. They were coming to tell her that Ben was dead. She shut her eyes tightly, then opened them slowly to turn her head towards the footsteps that had come to a halt by her bed. A very weary and drawn Jase looked down at her, his eyes blank and his scar standing out vividly against his tanned checks.

  'He's dead, isn't he?’ Coley cried, uttering the dreaded words for him. ‘And I killed him, I killed him!’ she finished, collapsing once again on to the bed in tears.

  She felt the shifting of the mattress as he sat down beside her. She couldn't help cringing when she felt his hands grip her shoulders and pull her up to face him.

  'He's going to make it, Coley,’ Jase said quietly, but firmly. ‘He's alive and he's going to make it.'

  A lump of happiness gripped Coley's throat as the tears ceased to cloud her vision. She searched his face for the reassurances she needed. She bit her lower lip to swallow back the sob of happiness.

  'Oh, Jase, if he had died,’ Coley said brokenly, the horror fading away as the relief washed in, ‘I could never have forgiven myself.'

  'Don't think about it,’ Jase instructed, brushing away a teardrop on her cheek.

  'But it would have been my fault,’ she insisted, attempting to explain the awful burden inside her. ‘We were arguing and I was accusing him of terrible things, and that's ... that's when it happened.'

  His eyes narrowed at her words and what little softness that had been in his face vanished.

  'I don't imagine I have to ask what you were arguing about, do I?’ he asked, rising from the bed as he spoke.

  'It was about Rick,’ Coley admitted very quietly, bowing her head as she did.

  'How many times have you been told to stay out of that?’ His face was turned away from her as he spoke, but Coley could hear the bitterness in his voice.

  'I couldn't and I can't, Jase,’ she stated. ‘And you know why.'

  'Well, you're going to have to.’ His gaze turned to her face. ‘Because the reason you thought you had doesn't exist.'

  'I know,’ she replied, lifting her trembling chin proudly as she looked back at him. ‘I've destroyed with stupid angry words anything you might have felt for me. And this morning, my dumb inability to understand that you were trying to save Ben finished anything that might have remained. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to see you and your grandfather make peace. I don't think I'll ever be able to give that up.'

  'Right now all I want you to concentrate on is making sure that Ben gets better,’ Jase said, his expression unchanged by her words, as if they were raindrops washing down a brick wall. ‘And so help me God, if I ever find you discussing me with him, I'll...'

  His threat was interrupted by a knocking on Coley's door. He glowered briefly at her before opening it. Danny was standing anxiously outside. He glanced at Coley before speaking to Jase.

  'He wants to see you,’ said Danny. With a hesitant glance at his sister, he added, ‘and Coley, too.'

  Jase grimly took Coley by the arm and escorted her down the stairs to the hallway where a bespectacled and harassed-looking man stood waiting.

  'He isn't good, Jason,’ the doctor said. ‘I'd like to move him, but I think the journey would do him more harm than good. He's asking for you and the girl, but I only want you to go in for a few minutes. If he begins to get agitated, I want you to leave immediately.'

  'I thought...’ Coley began. ‘You said he was going to be all right.'

  'I said he was alive,’ Jase corrected icily. He'll make it. He's a Savage.'

  'He doesn't seem to care whether he makes it or not.’ The doctor glanced speculatively at Jase. ‘I sincerely hope you will change his mind.'

  It was a very frightened and subdued Coley who accompanied Jase into
the den and Uncle Ben's adjoining bedroom. Her legs were shaking terribly as she came to a halt beside Jase at the edge of the bed where Ben lay, the upper half of his body distorted by a portable plastic oxygen tent that encased it. She watched the massive chest rise and fall in its shallow breathing before her eyes moved up to the pale face, the shaggy brows accenting the hollows under his closed eyes. The iron-grey hair looked strangely silver and ethereal against the snow-white pillow as the head turned towards them and the eyelids opened to reveal two dull blue dots.

  'Coley, my child,’ Ben whispered, a gnarled hand beckoning at her feebly to come closer and lessen his exertion of talking. ‘You're not to blame yourself for what happened.’ Coley nodded numbly, blinking valiantly to hold back the tears. ‘No matter what happens, you're not to blame, do you hear?'

  'Yes, Uncle Ben,’ Coley answered hoarsely, and looked imploringly at Jase.

  Ben was looking at him, too.

  'I understand you saved my life,’ he whispered.

  'I had to, Ben,’ Jase answered, his stone-like expression never changing. ‘I didn't know if you'd changed your will in my favour or not.'

  'Jase!’ Coley gasped, staring up into his cold face before glancing terrifiedly back at Ben. There was the briefest flicker of a smile on his face and his eyes sparkled brightly for a minute.

  'You'll never own the Slash S,’ Ben whispered. Then with a smile, he feebly waved a hand at the pair. ‘Go away now. Let an old man die in peace.'

  'You're too mean to die this easy, Ben,’ Jase mocked.

  Ben snorted slightly. ‘We'll talk later, son. I need to rest now.'

  'Yes, Ben,’ Jase replied. His voice was sharp and clear in the otherwise silent room. ‘We will talk later. I mean to have the Slash S.'

  He didn't wait for a reply from the stricken man, but immediately turned Coley around and marched her out of the room. His hand maintained a firm grip on her arm, keeping her by his side as he spoke again to the doctor, all the time refusing to meet Coley's wide terrified eyes staring into his face. She didn't hear what was said; she didn't care what was said. Why hadn't Jase comforted his grandfather? Why had he persisted in taunting him there, Coley thought with a lump in her throat, there, quite possibly on his deathbed? She knew the attack had frightened Ben a great deal. It should have been the time for a reconciliation between the two, but instead Jase had made it another warring ground.