Into the Light (29 page)

Trey made his own plans. He wanted to build a life in Hubbell, finish turning the paper into something the town and even the county found of value, watch Jamie’s business grow, and keep Deborah close to the comfort of her family. For that matter, he didn’t mind marrying a whole family himself.

Still, if another killer showed up, they’d pull up stakes. Not Alaska or even Montana. Somewhere warmer, although not the oven of Arizona. California maybe. He said nothing to Deborah, found a house not far from the office and made plans — and plans.

At least Deborah didn’t try to make him worry about hats and dresses and flowers that weren’t available this early in the year. She came up with concerns a man could handle.

“If we get married, do I have to stay home and dust furniture?” Deborah stopped typing and looked up to where he was writing a story by hand on the counter.

“What do you mean ‘if’? You said yes.”

“All right, when. After.”

“Of course not. We can get someone to come in once or twice a week for that.”

“Just doing laundry takes a whole day.”

He waved a hand in the air. “That’s what laundries are for.”

“We need another desk.”

“And chair. I’ll talk to someone.”

The door crashed open so hard the only sound from the bell was a metallic rattle. Trey reached for the pistol he had taken to carrying, then let his hand fall away. “Father.”

Webster Van Cleve slapped a copy of the
Herald
on the counter. “If you want to see your sister’s son with everything that should be yours, you just go ahead and do it.”

Trey stared at his father’s angry face. “I told you a hundred times I don’t want any of it. You never listened to a word, and now you’re telling me all I had to do was marry a Sutton? If I’d known that, I’d have married at sixteen.”

His father flushed an ugly red. “You damned fool. Once it was yours, if you wanted to run every business like a charity, you could. You’d lose most of it in your lifetime, but you could do any damn thing you want.”

“What I want is no part of any of it. Sign the papers, and we’ll publish notice in the paper. Trey Van Cleve, disinherited at last.”

His father pointed a finger at him. “You’ll publish no such thing. I’ll tell your mother and sister my own way. Don’t ever set foot on the ranch again. Stay away from your mother and sister. You’re worse than an embarrassment, you’re a blood traitor.”

Trey felt Deborah’s hand on his back, saw his father’s focus switch, and his chest swell as he drew more breath.

“Say it, and I’ll knock you right through the front window,” Trey hissed. “Father or no, say it, and I’ll knock every tooth in your mouth down your throat.”

Another glare, and his father turned and walked out, this time slamming the door so hard the glass cracked and the bell fell to the floor with a clang. Deborah pressed her forehead against Trey’s shoulder. “How did you ever grow up to be you?”

Trey rested his cheek against her hair, breathed deep of her scent. “The tutor he hired when I was five was big on morals and ethics. Father never paid much attention to us at that age, so he didn’t realize what was happening until I was eleven. He kicked the poor man off the ranch the day he found out. And there’s my mother’s family. They’re good people, and we lived with them for months once. Visited for a couple of weeks most years.”

They leaned against each other wordlessly for a few moments until Deborah said, “Do you think this means you’re safe now?”

“I hope so. It would be just like the old son of a gun to make that scene and then wait to see if I come to heel before doing anything. Let’s not worry about it today.”

Trey led her to the back room. “Peter, go get a cup of coffee.”

Peter looked up from the linotype machine with resignation. “Again?”

“Again.”

“This wedding can’t come fast enough,” Peter muttered as he left.

Amen to that, Trey thought.

A
S A GIRL
Deborah had loved pretty clothes as much as her sisters. That changed when she first noticed men and boys following her with their eyes. Plain clothes of heavy materials made slightly too large had been one of her many ways of hiding.

Dressing to fit in at the social events she attended for the paper had begun to bring back her former pleasure in pretty things. Her wedding dress completed the transformation. Every fitting had been a pleasure. Looking at the frothy creation of creamy lace and silk in the full length mirror in Judith’s bedroom, Deborah almost forgot her nerves.

“You look lovely,” Aunt Em said, fussing over the drape of lace across the bodice.

“Beautiful,” Judith said, whirling in her own spring green silk. “Exquisite. He’ll pass out at the front of the church when he sees you, and we’ll have to run and fetch water to throw on him to get him up again.”

Deborah’s stomach lurched. “Thank you, dear sister. I always count on you to calm my anxieties.”

“What anxieties?” Judith started to hug her, backed off before Aunt Em pulled her away to save the lace, and settled for hands on both of Deborah’s cheeks. “He loves you. You love him, and tomorrow you’ll be off on a wonderful wedding trip.”

“And Mr. Richmond will be putting out the paper alone again. Trey thinks circulation will fall by half before we return.”

“He was joking. You know he was joking. Stop looking for things to worry about. You even have a perfect spring day. It rained the day William and I got married.”

Deborah had to think back. Her strongest memory was of the way Judith had lit up the church and the hall where they held the reception with her joy. “I do remember. I remember Uncle Jason and Uncle Eli holding an oilskin over you like a canopy so your hat and dress didn’t get wet on the way to the church.”

“And that was in June. I wonder why everyone thinks June is the best month to marry. April is obviously better, fresh spring air, warm, perfect wedding weather.”

April weather was also notoriously fickle, but Deborah didn’t say so.

“There are flowers in June,” Aunt Em said. “Brides don’t have to carry bouquets made of artificial flowers with wire stems.”

“Do you really think it’s all right that we decided on the church here in town?” Deborah asked. “Have Caleb and Norah said anything about having to come to town and stay overnight? I know it’s harder on all of you.”

“If you ask that one more time, I swear I’m going to pinch you,” Aunt Em said. “We’d be happy to get on the train and travel anywhere we had to for this, and you know it. I never thought I’d see this day, and now here we are, and I still have trouble — Van Cleve — and he’s such a nice young man, who would ever believe it?”

“It was an accident,” Deborah said. “His father hired the wrong tutor.”

Her aunt gave her a questioning look, but Judith burst out laughing. “You mean the right one.”

A tap sounded on the door, and Judith went to answer it, still chuckling.

Miriam. “May I come in?” she asked.

“Of course you can,” Deborah said.

“You look so beautiful. That dress is....” Miriam made a helpless gesture with one hand indicating she had no words.

“It is, isn’t it?” Deborah said, unable to keep her own delight in the dress out of her voice.

“I hoped I could speak with you a moment before we left for the church.”

Judith grabbed Aunt Em by the arm and pulled her toward the door. “Minutes, only minutes, and if you’re not downstairs and ready to leave for the church on time, I’m sending William and Uncle Jason to pick you up and carry you to the buggy. You do not want that. It would crush the lace.”

Deborah regarded her youngest sister thoughtfully. “You look very beautiful yourself, Miriam. You always do.” In truth Miriam had often looked better. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

“I came to apologize, to tell you.... Joseph and I quarreled before Christmas. He thinks I.... Well, we’ve resolved that for the most part, but it made me say things to you I never should have, and I want you to know I’m sorry for that and even more for turning you away. No matter what I think of what you’re doing, you’re still my sister, and I love you, and I’m sorry.” Her face twisted as she fought tears.

Deborah forgot about the lace and hugged Miriam tight. “Oh, Miriam, lots of families have one odd stick. Laugh me off to your fancy friends.”

“I can’t. I hate it when your name comes up and they look as if they smelled something bad, or say things.”

“They’re quick enough to want me there writing about their social events for the paper.” At least they had been ever since Trey had set Mrs. Snopes straight.

“I know. That makes it worse somehow.”

“If you can’t laugh, then look martyred and try for sympathy.”

“Now you sound like Judith.”

“That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

They smiled at each other, Miriam’s smile a little watery.

“I didn’t want you to think I was sitting in the church wishing you anything but the best today. I want you to be happy. I really do.”

Deborah hugged her again. “I never doubted that for a minute. Now you need to wash your face, and I need to go downstairs before everyone gets nervous for fear I’ve run off to hide.”

One last glance in the mirror and a little fluffing of lace, and Deborah was ready. All she needed to do was remember to breathe.

Y
OU’VE GOT THIS
place fixed up as good as new,” Jamie said.

Engrossed in his third attempt to make his tie look like something other than a used lariat tied by a man without thumbs, Trey concentrated on his own image in the mirror.

“I didn’t do anything but hire painters. Deborah did the rest.”

The house was farther from the office than he would have liked, but a rundown bargain. In truth, he’d had carpenters and plasterers working around the clock these last weeks, but the soft blues and greens Deborah had chosen for the rooms already made the house seem like home, even without much furniture.

The kitchen was the only room Trey had expressed an opinion over. Yellow with blue trim. From the look she gave him, Deborah knew exactly why he wanted that combination. She hadn’t said anything, but she’d picked the perfect shades of each color.

“I’d do that for you, but I never tied anything that wasn’t on my own neck,” Jamie said.

A knock sounded on the front door.

“Oh, damn,” Trey said, yanking out his latest effort. “Get that, will you? Make whoever it is go away.”

He half listened to voices from downstairs, footsteps approaching.

“Mr. Lenahan says you need help with your tie.”

Trey whirled at the familiar voice. Cool as ever, his mother took the limp piece of cloth from him. “Do you have an iron? Or another tie?”

Wordlessly, he handed her the next tie he had planned to ruin.

“I checked them both for weapons,” Jamie said, walking back into the room, shooing Alice ahead of him.

“He did not,” Alice said indignantly, “and it’s a good thing.” She glared over her shoulder.

Unperturbed, Jamie leaned against the door frame and folded his arms over his chest.

Trey lifted his chin as his mother worked on his tie, feeling ten years old and ridiculously pleased over it. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I was afraid you wouldn’t even get the invitation.”

“Your father and I have had a discussion,” his mother said. “You are not welcome at the ranch, but who I visit when I am in town is my own decision.”

Trey almost choked, and it had nothing to do with the tie. His mother had never opposed his father in his memory, and she didn’t come to Hubbell except to take the train to another destination.

Finished with the tie, she gave him a little pat on the chest. “Tell me you aren’t marrying this woman just to plague your father.”

“I’m marrying her because I love her. I was half in love with her before I knew who she was.”

Another pat. “Good. I want you to be happy. It’s all I ever wanted for either of you.”

She looked exquisite, dressed for the wedding in peach silk with a matching hat. The gloves she had removed to work on his tie matched as well.

The temptation proved too great. He pulled her into a bear hug, picked her up and whirled her in a circle.

“My goodness.” Straightening her dress, she retrieved her gloves. “I believe your sister would like to talk to you alone. If Mr. Lenahan would be so kind as to show me out.”

Trey eyed his sister. “You look good, Alice. It’s good to see you.”

She did look good. The simple lines of her yellow dress suited her sturdy frame, and a frothy hat without much brim added height.

“Herman told Mother someone tried to kill you. You can’t believe I had anything to do with it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I was so angry I hardly remember everything I said. You just waltzed back into our lives after nine years. Nine years!”

“Hardly waltzed.”

“But I never would do anything to hurt you. You must know that.”

“You were pretty convincing, but in the end, yes, I do know that. Let’s just forget it all. It was an emotional time, and at least your children will have what you want. Where is my nephew? Do I get to see him?”

“Vernon has him at the hotel. Mother and I will be the only ones at the church, but we’ll bring Web to the reception long enough for you to meet him.”

“Web. I hope he wears it better than I did.”

“That wouldn’t be hard.” She looked away, smoothed the fingers of her gloves. “You know Father hasn’t signed anything yet. I wouldn’t even know he had a new will drawn and ready except Mother told me. I think he’s hoping you won’t go through with it.”

“Not a chance. Deborah may panic and run off, but that’s his only hope.”

“I don’t understand you. How can you not want the ranch, not want something?”

“I don’t understand you either. He’s going to live another forty years. By that time you’ll have grandchildren and should be past caring. Make your own lives, you and Vernon.”

“That’s what Vernon says too. We’ll be going home soon.”

“Good.” He didn’t pick her up and whirl her around, but he gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you came and glad we talked.”