Lady of Light (23 page)

Culdee Creek’s owner held out a folded piece of paper. Hesitantly, Abby took it, opened the telegram, and began to read. The color drained from her face.

“What is it, Abby?” Hannah asked, her voice now taut with worry. “What does the telegram say?”

The paper in the chestnut-haired woman’s hands fell to the tabletop. “My father,” she whispered finally. “My father’s very ill, and not expected to live.”

“What will you do, Pa?” Evan asked that evening, after riding in from a day of fence mending to hear the news. “Claire said Abby intends to go home to be with her father. Are you planning on letting her travel all the way back East by herself?”

“No.” Conor shook his head with grim resolve. He shifted restlessly in the wicker rocker on the main house’s front porch. “I’ve got to go with her. There’s no telling how bad it’ll be back there, and I can’t let Abby go through it alone. I
won’t
let her go through it alone.”

“I understand, Pa.” Evan leaned forward in his own chair, rested his forearms on his thighs, and laced his fingers together. “We can handle Culdee Creek—Devlin and I—while you’re gone. In fact,” he added with a wry grin, “it’s about time I try my hand at running the ranch. It’s not fair that you have to carry all the responsibility anymore.”

“I appreciate that, Son.”

At his father’s words, pleasure filled Evan. “I just want to pull my weight, Pa. That’s all.”

“We’ll have a meeting real soon, you, me, and Devlin, and divvy up the duties.”

Evan leaned back and nodded, firmly squelching the unpleasant realization that, with his father gone, he’d have to work even more closely with his cousin than before. Still, though his feelings for Devlin hadn’t changed much in the past month, he couldn’t burden his father with those concerns right now. Some how, some way, Evan vowed to work it out, even if it meant gritting his teeth and pretending a friendship he didn’t feel. His pa deserved that much—and more—from him.

“Fair enough,” he said instead, then paused. “Have you and Abby decided when you’ll be heading out?”

Conor sighed and shoved a hand raggedly through his dark hair. “Most likely the day after tomorrow. We’ll take Sean with us. He’s too young to be separated from his mother. I’d like to leave Beth here, though, if you don’t mind. She’s just finally started back to school, seems to be enjoying it, and I’d hate to ruin the positive beginning she’s finally made.”

Evan frowned. “If Beth stays, she’ll be all alone in the big house. Maybe Claire, Ian, and I should move in with her until you and Abby return.”

“Yes.” As if warming to the suggestion, Conor nodded. “That’s a fine idea. You and Claire can take our room, and Ian can have your old room. It’ll be easier for Claire that way, having a kitchen of her own and all.” He grinned apologetically. “Don’t see as how your house will be ready anytime soon anyways. We’ve made a good start, but what with the extra ranch work you’ll have to take on in my absence …”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Pa. The bunkhouse will do us just fine when you get back, even if it means spending the winter there if need be. In the end, it’ll all work out for the best.”

“Yeah,” his father agreed softly, “it always does, doesn’t it?”

13

It was not an enemy that reproached me; then I could have borne it.

Psalm 55:12

The next evening, Conor called Evan and Devlin together for a meeting. Full of eager anticipation, Evan arrived early. At last, he thought as he took a seat by the parlor hearth, he’d begin to repay a little of all that he owed his father. At last, the satisfied realization thrumming through him, he’d stand head-to-head with his sire as he shouldered full responsibility for Culdee Creek in his father’s absence. And, at last, even if the consideration was perhaps far sweeter than he cared to admit, Devlin would finally be forced to acknowledge his coming to power and maturity as the mantle of running the ranch was placed, if only temporarily, on Evan’s shoulders.

Conor, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, soon joined Evan in the parlor. He settled into the leather chair opposite his son and took a tentative sip. “Devlin should be here any minute,” he then said. “Before he arrives, though, there’s something I need to talk with you about.”

Expectation swelling, Evan leaned forward. “About the ranch, Pa?”

“Yeah, about the ranch.” Conor rose, turned to the mantle, and set his mug on it. “I’ve given a lot of thought to the arrangements needing to be made while I’m gone.” He gripped the thick, walnut-stained mantle for a long moment, then turned back to face Evan. “I know you probably figured you’d be the one to run Culdee Creek, and someday you will, but Devlin knows this ranch and all its working nearly as well as me. You, on the other hand, between growing up and being gone twice for extended periods, are just starting to get a handle on it.”

His father met Evan’s stunned gaze with an apologetic yet steadfast one of his own. “Right now, Son, Devlin’s the man to run Culdee Creek, and that’s the way I want it.”

Horror and total disbelief engulfed Evan. Then bitter resentment surged up, boiling within.
Devlin.
Once more Devlin had emerged victorious. Once more, he’d have the right to lord it over him, to order him about, to be the favored one. It was almost … almost as if his father was trying to punish him, that he thought more of Devlin than he did his own son!

At the consideration, Evan felt a wrenching stab of pain. His gut clenched and twisted. More than anything he had ever wanted, he suddenly wanted to get up and storm from the room. Angry words formed, fighting to break free and spew forth at his father.

But Evan wouldn’t, couldn’t, allow either to happen. Staring up into his father’s eyes, he saw the anguish the difficult decision had caused him. If his father could’ve had it any other way, Evan sensed he would have. Besides, the fault didn’t lie with his father. It lay with him.

He
was the one who had robbed him and run off with enough of the ranch’s money that the theft had set Culdee Creek back for several years.
He
was the one who had again run away a year ago, just because his heart had been broken and he couldn’t handle losing Hannah to Devlin.

It didn’t matter that, this time, he was home for good. It didn’t matter that he intended to become, at long last, the son and heir his father had always hoped he would be. His father couldn’t know that yet. How could he, after all the fool things his son had done in the past? Only time, unswerving loyalty, and hard work would prove the rock-solid sincerity of Evan’s intent.

In the end, Evan admitted bitterly, he deserved this. He deserved it and would accept it, no matter how hard it might be to swallow.

“If that’s the way you want it, Pa,” he forced out, nearly choking on words tasting as caustic as bile, “then that’s how it’ll be. I told you I’d pull my weight in any way I could, and I meant it.”

A guarded look of relief flared in Conor’s eyes. “I’m glad to hear you take the news so well, Son. I’ll admit I was worried.”

“I didn’t say I liked it, Pa,” Evan muttered. He glanced away. “I just said I’d accept it.”

“Even though Devlin’s boss, I want you to work closely with him. Start learning the business end of running this ranch.” His father paused, took a deep swallow of his coffee, then eyed him. “Do you think you can do that, Son? Work closely with Devlin?”

Evan knew what his father was asking. He wanted reassurance that Evan could put aside his still-unresolved anger and hard feelings toward his cousin. He wanted to know if his son was man enough to forgive, move past the youthful antagonism Evan had always felt toward Devlin. Problem was, Evan wasn’t sure he
was
man enough to do that, leastwise not just yet.

The realization shamed him. He couldn’t fail his father, no matter how strong his personal antipathy for Devlin still ran. “I’ll do my best, Pa,” he finally ground out. “I give you my word. I’ll do my best.”

A knock sounded at the parlor’s front door. Conor’s gaze locked for an instant more with his son’s, then he climbed to his feet. “Reckon that’s all any man could ask of another. Reckon that’s all any man can do.”

With that, he turned and strode toward the door. Evan stood, squared his shoulders, and waited. Conor opened the door and welcomed Culdee Creek’s foreman inside. After a brief greeting, the two men turned. Devlin’s glance met Evan’s.

Schooling his features into an expressionless mask, Evan nodded in welcome. “Glad to see you,” he said, walking over to stand before his father and cousin. He hesitated for an instant, steeling himself for what he must next do, then held out his hand. “Pa’s going to depend on the both of us until he returns,” he said, “so I reckon it’s time I take you up on your offer to let bygones be bygones.”

A fleeting surprise widened Devlin’s eyes, then was gone. He nodded in turn, and accepted Evan’s proffered hand. “That’s fine by me,” he drawled with a slow grin. “That’s
right
fine by me.”

The next day, Abby, Conor, and Sean caught the train out of Grand View. The entire MacKay clan saw them off in fine fashion. Then, as Hannah, Devlin, and their brood headed home, Evan, accompanied by Ian and Beth, dropped off Claire at the town hall for her monthly Ladies Quilting Society meeting.

“By the time I come back for you,” he said, his hands lingering at her waist even after the quick kiss they had shared, “I’ll have our clothes and things moved into the upstairs bedroom. And there’s plenty of food left over from last night’s supper, so you won’t have much to do when you get home but warm things up.”

Claire eyed him with misgiving. “Mayhap, but I still don’t feel right spending so many hours in town today, what with Conor and Abby just leaving. I could just as easily pass on this month’s meeting, and—”

“Hush.” Evan pressed a gentle finger to her lips. “A few hours for yourself once a month isn’t too much to ask. I want you to take this time. It’s good for you to make some friends outside Culdee Creek, not to mention socialize with them a bit.”

“Och, but aren’t you the dear lad?” Knowing by now that look of unshakeable conviction when she saw it, Claire gave up her protests with a laugh. When he chose to be, Evan was as stubborn as any Scotsman born and bred.

“Yes,” her husband admitted with a nod and cocky grin, “I am indeed, and best you never forget it.” He pulled her sewing basket out from behind the seat, handed it to her, then climbed into the buckboard. “I’ll be back at three o’clock. Will you be waiting here, or at the Starrs’?”

“At the Starrs’. Millie has a new book she wants to lend me, and I’ll walk back with her to pick it up.”

Evan tugged on his hat brim in farewell. “See you at three, then.”

Beth waved from her seat beside Ian. “Good-bye, Claire.”

Claire watched as the three of them drove off and headed out of town, though her gaze was really focused on her husband. The bright, sunny day and blue sky provided a perfect backdrop for Evan’s broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, and trim-hipped physique. He sat on the buckboard seat with a relaxed grace, one forearm resting on a denim-covered thigh propped higher than the other, and leaning slightly forward, both hands gripping the reins.