by Gwen Moffat
‘He’s not hers yet.’ Sophie was harsh but then her tone changed. ‘Is that right: you two are married? When did this happen?’
‘A few weeks since.’ He looked sulky now: a long beanpole of a fellow, embarrassed in the presence of older women, two of whom were now his in-laws, if he was to be believed.
‘Where did you marry?’ Sophie asked.
‘In Billings.’ He returned her stare. ‘I have the licence back home.’
‘It doesn’t make any difference.’ Val was listless, as if she were past emotion. ‘But she can’t have the stud. It stays here.’
‘He’s hers!’ His voice rose.
‘No, he isn’t,’ Sophie said coldly. ‘The will hasn’t been read and it has to be probated. You can’t know the conditions.’
‘She does. He told her. Charlie did.’
‘My father was a liar,’ Val said, without heat. ‘He may have told her he’d left the stud to her and anything else he cared to name. That doesn’t mean it’s true.’
‘Her dad says it’s true.’
‘Oh, my God! You’re telling us she’s seen her dad? He’s always —’
‘That’s enough,’ Sophie put in quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter who says what. This horse is staying here until the will’s probated. Not just because it’s a valuable animal, the same would apply if it were a dude horse. We have to observe the rules, Bret. You go back and tell Jen that. At the same time, since you’re now family, you might suggest that it would have been more courteous for her to come here in person instead of sending a messenger, even if you are married to her.’
Miss Pink moved away, acutely embarrassed. Sophie was hard on the man but it was justified. He must have known he was out of order. The situation was awkward, fraught with difficulties.
Behind her, the pick-up started and moved slowly down the drive; his frustration wasn’t apparent in his driving.
‘It’s monstrous!’ Val exploded. ‘I can’t believe it of Sam.’
‘Sam didn’t send him,’ Sophie pointed out.
‘But they’ve been in touch! He’s saying he has no idea where she is.’ Val whirled on Miss Pink. ‘You rode home with him yesterday; did he tell you he’d seen Jen?’
‘No. He did say he’d wondered if she could be holed up with Ryan.’
‘I’ll kill the bastard!’
She strode towards the cabin. Sophie shook her head and sighed. ‘What must you be thinking of us all?’
‘Apart from his ignorance of business etiquette, Ryan doesn’t seem a bad fellow,’ Miss Pink said comfortably. ‘He could make a good husband — and Jen has come back — almost.’
‘Huh! “Almost” is the operative word. Now this problem’ — she gestured angrily at the stallion — ‘could take us right back to square one.’
‘It’ll blow over. It’s only a horse.’
‘Only! That horse is worth thousands.’
‘Even then it’s not so important as the other problem: the one that drove Jen away originally.’
‘But she came back — to Sam,’ Sophie muttered. ‘That’s hit Val hard. She thought Sam was her friend. He’s played her a shabby trick.’ They could hear Val’s voice raised inside the cabin. ‘I wonder how he’ll explain himself,’ she said.
They turned to contemplate the stallion. After a while the screen door crashed open. ‘He denies it!’ Val shouted. ‘He swears it isn’t true! Who’s lying around here? I’m going to Benefit and find Jen —’
‘No, Val!’ Sophie hurried after her as she made for her pick-up. Miss Pink leaned against the rails, an uneasy spectator, but not for long. After a few minutes during which Ali walked over to have his head scratched, the others approached. ‘I’m going to Benefit,’ Sophie told her, while Val looked mutinous. ‘Val insists someone must go to Jen, her being so near, and if I don’t, she will, and I think Jen is more likely to talk to me at this moment. The business about the horse gives us a handle — although why I should need an excuse to talk to my own kin I don’t know. But it may work. D’you mind?’
Miss Pink was startled. ‘No, no. I can amuse myself —’
‘I mean, d’you mind coming with me?’
‘Of — course not. Er — why?’
‘I’m trusting your presence will keep things on an even keel.’ Sophie peered at her doubtfully. ‘Is it a presumption? I’m afraid things aren’t exactly normal today. As you may have noticed.’
‘I’ll do what I can to help. Let’s go. Might it be an idea to overtake Bret before he has a chance to phone her?’
‘I’m going after Sam,’ Val said grimly.
‘No, you’re not.’ Sophie was firm. ‘There’s enough trouble around here without you going and making more with Sam. Besides,’ she added slyly, ‘someone needs to be here with Ali. Bret could come back and for all we know, Charlie changed his will and the horse is to come to you.’
Val looked at the stallion. ‘You could be right. OK, I’ll leave it to you — for the time being.’ Implying that if anything went wrong at Benefit she would take over. Charlie’s death was having wide repercussions.
*
As they drove down the Ballard road, Miss Pink said, ‘Would it be possible to find out exactly who the horses were left to? You might cite the difficulty of making decisions regarding Ali’s treatment: make his condition sound worse than it is. The lawyer who drew up the will mightn’t know much about horses.’
‘I’ve been thinking. I wonder if Edna has a copy of the will. I wouldn’t say so in front of Bret. You know, I can’t believe those two are married, can you?’
‘I’m the outsider here. But why not? From what you’ve said, Jen’s impulsive and he’d hardly say he had a marriage certificate if it’s not true.’
‘She’s unpredictable, certainly. Volatile is how I’d describe Jen. She takes after her mother there. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this meeting, but you may be sure that if it were Val had gone rushing over there, the state she’s in, there’d be more than sparks flying, there’d be a conflagration. Jen’s treating her mother like a neighbour who’s cheated on her: trying to hang on to property that’s rightfully hers.’ Her tone hardened. ‘And she won’t face her mother, has to send someone else. I’ll be interested to hear what this young lady’s got to say about that. She’s behaving outrageously.’
‘Ryan’s picked up speed.’ Miss Pink was peering ahead. ‘He’s going to reach Benefit before us.’
‘Not in that old truck; we’ll overtake him on the highway.’
They came to the main road, skirted the southern fringe of Ballard and sped towards Irving. Down on their right the Thunder river belied its name, spread in braids between flats where weeds and willows formed a low jungle. The road was clear ahead and there was no sign of the trailer. ‘He’ll have stopped off at Ballard,’ Sophie declared. ‘So Jen won’t be expecting us, long as he doesn’t phone her.’
‘Meaning she’d run if she knew you were coming?’
‘Well, she’s keeping clear, isn’t she? Married for some weeks, he said.’ She was bitterly resentful about that.
‘Why should she be frightened of the family?’
‘Frightened? She has no reason to be.’ Sophie considered this. ‘You’re suggesting she’s frightened of her mother?’
‘Things point that way.’
They slowed for the turning to Benefit and slowed again where the tarmac ended. When Sophie resumed the conversation it was as if she were talking to herself. ‘The truth is we’re all scared of each other — except right now Val is furious, but before… She told me she doesn’t know how to meet her own daughter, what to say. There’s so much between them that’s just blank: unknown territory. Val doesn’t know where she stands. That’s what makes her angry; she’s so confused.’
‘I can understand that.’
‘Everything’s so unpredictable. That’s why I asked you to come along. The truth is I’m scared too. Like I said, you’re — you’re —’
‘The plug in
the volcano?’
‘OK, I’m dramatising. Forget everything, we’ll play it by ear. We’re paying a call on my great-niece, is all.’
The little hills basked in the sunshine, deceptively smooth, sprinkled with juniper, a gentle world in contrast to the snow peaks in the background. Scattered ruins showed beyond a swelling in the grassy downs and they came round a curve to Benefit, trailing dust up its street to halt outside Ryan’s cabin.
A woman stood in the doorway shielding her eyes. She was small and slim but with broad shoulders. Her eyes slanted a little and the eyebrows were like wings. Her hair was a rich brown, the colour of ripe chestnuts. ‘She’s lovely,’ Miss Pink whispered, coming round the Cherokee to join Sophie.
‘And she’s not running,’ Sophie whispered back.
She came through the marigolds, smiling. ‘Aunt Sophie! Isn’t this neat?’
They hugged, Sophie’s eyes wide with astonishment. Miss Pink looked on benignly.
There were introductions. Jen acknowledged them politely, then turned back to Sophie with a look of inquiry. Sophie glanced at the cabin but left the suggestion of hospitality to her great-niece, who refused to pick up the cue. Her smile was fading. Appreciating that the welcome was over, that someone had to get down to business, Sophie said, ‘Is it true you’re married?’
‘You’ve been talking to Bret. Yes, we’re married.’
‘Edna’ — Sophie cleared her throat and started again — ‘I’m disappointed. I would have liked to come to your wedding.’
Jen gave the faintest shrug.
‘Edna too,’ Sophie ploughed on, and then — desperately — ‘not to speak of your mother.’
‘She can go to hell,’ Jen said.
Sophie gasped. Beaten, she appealed mutely to Miss Pink who, plunged into a weird fantasy land, all etiquette blown to the winds, said, reasonably enough, ‘What can a person’s mother have done that’s bad enough for that?’
‘Ask her,’ Jen said. She addressed Sophie again. ‘That is, if she’ll tell you.’ Her face crumpled like a child’s. ‘I’ll tell you what she did: she ruined my life — for ever — you know that?’
‘No!’ Sophie cried. ‘There’s something terribly wrong here —’
‘Isn’t this Sam?’ Miss Pink broke in urgently. ‘How about letting him — asking him —’ She broke off, at a loss.
A pick-up skidded to a halt in a swirl of dust. Sam Jardine jumped down and strode towards them. Miss Pink and Sophie turned to him as if to a saviour, which he might have been but for the fact that when they looked back Jen had disappeared.
Sophie swore. ‘Things were getting out of hand, Sam. Go in and talk some sense into her, for God’s sake. She’s saying Val ruined her life.’
Sam’s genial face showed surprise, but not shock. However, he wasted no time asking for details but made for the cabin. He opened the screen door, called out and entered. Sophie turned away, sniffing angrily.
‘Whatever’s got into her? Ruined her life? Val can go to hell? What does the girl mean?’
‘Come and stand in the shade.’ Miss Pink was soothing. ‘Let her father deal with it. This could be what’s needed to clear the air: a confrontation.’
Sam came out of the cabin, glancing left and right, bewildered. ‘Which way’d she go?’ he shouted.
Miss Pink looked towards the hills. ‘She must have gone out the back,’ she called. ‘She could have taken a horse.’
There was no point in going after her on foot, she had a head start. They stood in the shade of the cottonwoods and Sophie filled Sam in on that heated exchange. After a while Miss Pink saw a pale form working through the junipers on a distant slope.
‘You’ve been seeing her all along!’ Sophie cried.
‘I told Val. I’ve not seen Jen for ten years.’
‘You came straight here.’
‘Because Val said she was here and married to Bret. He never said nothing yesterday. I was riding with the guy! Why, he’s coming to work for me but he never give me a hint he was married to her. I guess he’d have gotten around to it.’
There was a pause. ‘There she goes,’ Miss Pink said. ‘Up that hill.’
They ignored her. ‘So you’re saying Bret Ryan’s a liar,’ Sophie grated.
‘Well — no, if he says they’re married —’
‘Not that. He says they’re in touch with you, that you say Ali is willed to Jen.’
‘Then he is lying. He has to have some reason for saying that.’ He sat down in the dust and put his head on his knees. They regarded him: Sophie bewildered, Miss Pink speculative. Someone was lying — but for what purpose? Something to do with Charlie’s legacy, or his death, or both?
Sophie raised her eyes and looked towards the hills. ‘Is that the horse you saw her on yesterday?’ she asked dully.
‘Presumably. It’s pale, it could be a buckskin.’
‘She left because you arrived,’ Sophie told Sam and it was an accusation.
He raised his head. ‘If she turned against Val, she’s against me too,’ he said and then, the picture of despair, ‘Why?’
‘Ryan knows what’s behind it all.’ Sophie was vicious. She looked along the street as if willing him to appear but there was nothing to see beyond the sagging buildings other than the sage and rocks shimmering in the heat. ‘I’m not waiting here for him,’ she said and, remembering her manners, ‘I mean, we’re not waiting.’ Adding fiercely, ‘We have our own lives to lead.’ It was by way of an apology, a declaration that family problems were not to be allowed to interfere with hospitality towards a guest, and it was spurious. Obviously family came first with all of them. ‘I feel like a ball,’ she went on, ‘bounced backwards and forwards between other people.’
Sam was bleary-eyed. ‘You don’t believe me? If we was in contact why would she run when I arrived?’
‘Because she didn’t want us to know she was seeing you? Oh hell!’ Sophie shook her head as if trying to rid it of cobwebs. ‘I don’t know where I am any longer. What do we do now?’ She glared at Miss Pink.
‘We’re doing nothing here. Shall we go home and eat?’
Sophie’s jaw dropped. ‘Life goes on,’ Miss Pink pointed out. ‘People get hungry.’
Sam giggled. Miss Pink looked for hysteria and saw none. ‘I’ll look around a bit,’ he said. ‘Maybe she’ll be watching and if she sees you leave, she’ll come down. I could go find a saddle’ — he gave a wry smile — ‘put it on one of my son-in-law’s horses and follow her.’
‘Well, he’s old enough to take care of himself,’ Sophie said as they drove away. ‘Although why I should say that I’ve no idea, except that I don’t like leaving him. Did we do right?’
‘Heavens, he’s not in any danger.’
‘Someone’s lying. I need to know what’s going on. We have to know; it’s affecting all of us.’ She was speaking as if Miss Pink were family. ‘If we meet Ryan on this road he’s not going to pass without me finding out why he said Jen was seeing Sam when she wasn’t.’
‘Actually, Ryan didn’t say Jen was meeting her father. They could have been communicating by phone.’
‘It’s the same.’ Sophie was grim. ‘Sam maintains he hasn’t been in touch with her at all. Do you think he’s lying?’
‘If he is, he’s a very good actor.’
They reached the highway without meeting a vehicle. ‘Ryan’s still in town,’ Sophie said. ‘Or he went back to Val’s place. Oh, I hope not. We have to see Edna, ask her about the will, find out who Ali is to go to —’
‘There he is. Ryan — the trailer, see?’
They were heading west towards Ballard. A pick-up and trailer were approaching, coming east. Sophie slowed down. As it passed they saw that it was indeed Ryan but he gave no sign that he recognised the Cherokee. Sophie glanced behind her and performed a neat U-turn, but instead of overtaking she kept back until they left the highway. After they’d gone about half a mile on the dirt road she crept up and flashed her lights. Ryan plodded on
for a short distance, then stopped.
Sophie climbed down without a word. Miss Pink stayed where she was. She wondered if Ryan carried a weapon. With the trailer blocking her view she couldn’t see if there was a rifle on a rack as was often the case in Westerners’ pick-ups. Her eyes widened; this was a family at odds, not a confrontation with a gunman.
Sitting in the passenger seat she could see nothing of Sophie. She slid behind the steering wheel and looked along the side of the trailer. Sophie was standing back, stiff with some emotion — anger? Fear? Miss Pink switched off the ignition. Sophie was shouting.
‘… ask anyone!… her grandmother… you could have asked me!’
Silence — he would be responding, but quietly.
Sophie’s shoulders jerked. She gestured wildly. ‘You’re mad! It’s impossible. Val never knew… Why should she lie about it?’ She listened again, glaring, blinking. She spoke, but the words were inaudible. Her head was up, her face set; she seemed to be in command now, but as she continued to speak her body language was increasingly tense until she broke off… How theatrical people appeared when in the grip of strong emotion and you couldn’t hear what was said. She came back to the Cherokee, treading lightly, carefully.
Miss Pink heaved herself over to the passenger side, the trailer drew away, Sophie climbed behind the wheel, turned the car and stopped. She switched off the ignition but kept her hands on the wheel. Miss Pink licked her lips nervously.
Sophie said to the windscreen: ‘I’m not clear how I feel about this. I’m shell-shocked. He is in touch with Jen’s father, as he thinks — because Jen told him her father is Paul Skinner.’
‘Oh.’ A long pause. ‘Poor Sam,’ Miss Pink said.
‘Skinner isn’t, of course.’ Sophie was quick. She turned to her friend and smiled, but it was only her lips that moved, her eyes were cold and furious. ‘And guess who told Jen that Paul Skinner was her father.’
Miss Pink could only shake her head helplessly.
