Legacies (43 page)

Drawn toward the foyer as everyone else was, Diane paused in the parlor's archway, a hand gripping the casing for support, her gaze riveted on Lije's smiling face. She had been thinking about him too much, wanting him too much. It hurt to see him. It hurt even more when he noticed her and the smile left his thin, hard cheeks.

He shifted his glance to the right of Diane, where her father stood. His eyes narrowed, and she knew he was looking at that empty left sleeve and the bulge under her father's coat. Lije jerked his gaze away from the sight and turned, his lips curving in a stiff smile to greet Susannah.

Diane stole a glance at her father. He stared at the foyer scene, a look of pain in his eyes. For a moment Diane didn't understand. She looked back, trying to see what he saw. There was Temple, pressed against The Blade's side, radiant with happiness. Diane then recognized the cause of his anguish and felt sympathy when he pivoted and walked back into the parlor.

Watching Temple and The Blade together, Diane experienced a fresh wave of envy and bitterness. She should have been welcoming Lije with the same joyous abandon. But he had ruined any chance of happiness for them. She almost hated him for that.

Everyone drifted toward the parlor archway. Good manners dictated that Diane remain there to greet the returning pair. Good manners and pride. But it was his daughter The Blade noticed first.

"You have grown into a beautiful young lady while I've been away, Sorrel." His smile brought a tender warmth to his eyes.

"You've been gone a long time." She offered no smile in return.

"I guess we have." The Blade nodded, sobering.

Lije stepped up. "It looks like we came back just in time to keep an eye on all the eager young men who will come to call."

"Don't tease, Lije," Sorrel retorted sharply and spun away to walk back into the parlor.

"Welcome home, Major." Diane spoke up quickly before the moment became too awkward. But she was conscious of two things—the way Lije avoided looking at her, and the way Temple clung to The Blade's side. "I'm pleased to see you looking well."

"And you look even more beautiful than before, Diane," he said, then glanced past her. "I see you are out of uniform again, Jed."

"Permanently, this time," Jed replied as The Blade moved past Diane to enter the parlor, with Temple on his arm.

Gathering her poise, Diane turned to acknowledge Lije, but he eliminated the need with a curt nod, then brushed past the pair to join the others in the parlor. She swung around to face the room, her gaze following him for an instant before it encountered Sorrel. All her attention was focused on her parents, a mixture of envy and accusation on her face. Diane looked at Temple again and sighed in confusion.

"Are you all right?" Eliza touched her arm.

"I don't understand how Temple can be so happy," she admitted at last.

"Surely it's obvious—The Blade is home."

"I know, but . . . he killed her brother. How can she forget that?"

Eliza smiled. "She loves him."

Diane considered her answer for a moment, her glance straying to Lije. "No." She shook her head. "It can't be that simple. Love isn't enough."

"If love isn't, then what is?" Eliza countered with a touch of impatience, then smiled and patted Diane's arm. "One of life's greatest lessons—one of love's greatest lessons—is to learn to forgive what you can't forget. Along time ago Temple learned those two beautiful words 'I forgive' the hard way. To love is to forgive a wrong. Perhaps you should talk to Reverend Cole about it," she suggested, then patted her arm again and moved away to let Diane think about that. Turning to The Blade, Eliza broached one of her favorite subjects, asking, "Did Sorrel tell you she is one of the top students in her class?"

"No, she didn't mention it. Congratulations." The Blade smiled at his daughter.

"Thank you." She allowed the smallest smile to show, but Lije noticed the wariness didn't leave her eyes. He didn't have to guess who was to blame for this less than warm welcome. It had to be Alex.

"Eliza deserves some of the credit for Sorrel's achievements," Temple said. "She tutored her all through the war until the schools opened again. I've been checking into preparatory schools so we can enroll her in one after she graduates this next June."

"Next June," The Blade mused. "It hardly seems possible."

"The school is going to have a graduation ceremony. Anybody can come." Sorrel paused, her chin lifting to a defiant angle. "I am going to invite Alex."

Lije glanced at the gold locket around her neck, a present from Alex. "Alex is around then. I wondered. Is he living at Kipp's old place?" he asked, much too casually.

"No," Temple began.

"He went to Kansas," Sorrel informed him.
 

"Kansas?" Lije frowned in surprise. "What's he doing there?"

"He said nobody in Kansas knew how fast Shooting Star was, so he was going to go there and win some money racing her."

"Then he still has his racing mare."

Sorrel nodded. "And she's still lightning fast. There isn't another horse in the whole territory that can beat her."
 

"There may be one," Rans said.
 

"Where?" Sorrel challenged.

"One of the raiders who jumped our herd was riding a black horse that was the fastest thing I'd ever seen."

"You were hit by raiders?" Lije asked, instantly alert.

Rans nodded. "Just south of the Kansas line. It was the smoothest operation I've ever seen. They struck around midnight, stampeded the herd, and drove off about three hundred head. Once we got the main herd stopped, a bunch of us went after them. It was close to dawn when we caught up with them—or thought we did." A gleam of wry humor appeared across his bronzed and hardened features. "I guess I should have been suspicious when they didn't put up much of a fight, but there were only two of them and six of us. So I wasn't surprised when they threw a couple half-hearted shots at us and took off. We gave chase—I thought we were going to catch them. Then this guy on the black horse took off. I was ready to swear that horse had sprouted wings the way it streaked across the prairie. The other rustler was spurring and whipping his horse for all he was worth, but that black horse just left him in his dust. It was a sight to see," Rans declared with another wry look.

"And the cattle?" Lije prompted.

"We drove them back to the main bunch. After the stampede, it took us two days to round up all of the strays. When I did a tally, I found I was still almost two hundred head shy. We made another sweep of the area, and that's when we discovered they had split the stolen cattle into two bunches and left a plain trail with the smaller one for us to follow. It was a clever plan, very clever."

"As I recall," Reverend Cole said into the silence that hung over the room, "Alex rode a black horse."

The remark was made in all innocence, but Lije had already suspected a connection. "It's probably coincidence." He wasn't convinced of that, and, judging from Susannah's expression, she wasn't either. "I'm afraid, though, the war has turned some men into hard cases and taught a lot of others about stealing and killing. Do you remember Frank James?" he said to Rans. "He rode with Quantrill during the war."

Rans nodded. "He had a younger brother Jesse who joined up with Bloody Bill Anderson's guerrillas."

"They robbed a bank in Libertyville, Missouri, last February. They've robbed a couple more since then. Last week I heard Cole Younger had joined their gang. Another one of Quantrill's men."

Diane came around to stand next to her father by the fireplace. Lije knew the minute she moved away from the arch. It was more than the whisper of movement she made. It was an awareness of her that licked through his senses every time they were in the same room.

"Not many people mourned when Quantrill was killed in Kentucky during the last days of the war," Jed remarked.

"You're right there," Lije agreed. "The Confederacy may have given him the rank of captain, but the Union put the right brand on him—outlaw."

"I imagine the time you spent in the Light Horse taught you to recognize the lawless element," Reverend Cole said.

"You recognize them by their actions, much as it is in your line of work, Reverend. A man isn't a sinner until he sins. Even good men can go bad." He looked straight at Sorrel. "Sometimes it's the lure of easy money—like the James boys robbing a bank. Sometimes it's out of revenge. Sometimes it's a thirst for power. And sometimes the people you least expect turn bad."

Suspicions. That was all he had about Alex. Lije tried to convey them to Sorrel. She idolized Alex. She always had.

"I may be wrong," Eliza paused and tipped her head to one side, a bit amused and a bit smug, "but I have the distinct impression from your last remark that you intend to seek your old assignment with the Cherokee Light Horse."

"You aren't wrong. In fact, I already have."

"You aren't serious," Temple said in protest. "You've just arrived home—"

He held up a hand to stop her. "I don't have to report for duty until after Christmas."

"Thank goodness," Temple declared with feeling.

"Speaking of home," Jed Parmelee inserted. "It's time Diane and I were leaving."

"So soon? Can't you stay for supper?"

Jed shook his head. "I'd like to get back to Tahlequah before nightfall. We're going to be very busy the next few days with all the packing and arrangements that need to be done."

"Jed has bought a general store in Tulsey Town," Reverend Cole explained.

"We hope to be settled in by Christmas," he said. "If you're up that way, drop in and see us. With a store to run, I doubt we'll be able to get away very often ourselves."

"You are coming to my wedding, aren't you?" Susannah said in tone that warned she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"When is it?" Diane asked, breaking a self-imposed silence that had lasted from the time she had greeted The Blade until now, a fact Lije noted.

Rans and Susannah both answered her question at the same time. But Rans said, "June," and Susannah said, "March."

Jed laughed. "Which is it? March or June?"

"March," Susannah stated and gave Rans a warning look. "I have waited for you as long as I'm going to wait. We're getting married in March, here at the house, and Reverend Cole will perform the ceremony." Taking his agreement for granted, she turned back to Jed and Diane, a quick smile lighting her face. "I also want you to be my maid of honor, Diane. You will, won't you?"

Diane hesitated, the memory of all her own wedding plans rushing back with sharp poignancy. She glanced at Lije, but he stared at the floor. She knew then just how wide the gulf was between them. She knew no way to bridge it.

"I would be proud to be your maid of honor, Susannah. Thank you for asking me."

After a round of leave-takings, Diane walked out into the brisk December air, bundled in her warm winter cape and gloves. The sun had melted the frost from the trees, leaving a glisten of moisture on the branches. The diamond sparkle of water droplets was almost as beautiful as the glazing frost had been. But Diane was too absorbed by her own thoughts to notice.

Jed offered her a steadying hand into the buggy, then climbed in beside her. As soon as the horsehide blanket was tucked around their legs, he tapped the horse with the reins and they set off. Diane let her gaze drift sightlessly over the barren winter landscape, unaware of the lengthening silence and the questioning looks from her father.

At last Jed said, "You're awfully quiet, Diane. Care to tell me what's on your mind?"

She responded with a vague, troubled shake of her head, then murmured, "I think I've made, a terrible mistake. And I don't know what to do about it." She still loved Lije, but she had been the one who broke the engagement, the one who pushed him away. She wasn't sure he would ever trust her again, believe her again.

 

Lying in bed, completely naked, with only the thinness of a bedsheet covering her, Temple felt wonderfully wicked and sinful. She loved the feeling. Inside she was all smooth and warm, like honey on a hot day. She snuggled closer to The Blade and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. His arm tightened slightly in response. Temple smiled and let her hand travel up his flat stomach to his chest. His body was still hard and lean, and she still enjoyed caressing it.

She listened to the soft crackle of flames in the master bedroom's fireplace, recalling how passionately he had just loved her, leaving no doubt about how much he had missed her, how much he wanted her, and how much he loved her. He had erased all her aches and the emptiness she had experienced for so long.

When she felt his hands stroke her ribs, she whispered, "What are you thinking about?"

"Pork."

She sat up. "Pork!" She glared at his laughing blue eyes. "Blade Stuart, I ought to—"

Chuckling, he caught hold of her wrists and pulled her down on top of him, his glance sliding to the ripe mounds of her breasts now lying heavily on his chest. "That ham I had at dinner tonight was the first I've tasted since before the war."

"What about me? You haven't tasted me since before the war either," she reminded him tartly.

"I swear I didn't enjoy the ham nearly as much as I enjoyed you. Does that satisfy you?"

He was laughing at her, and it made her angrier. "No," she flashed. "You should never have made the comparison in the first place."

"I didn't. You did."

"Then why did you mention it?" she demanded.

"Because I remembered that pork is in short supply in Texas. It's practically worth its weight in gold. We have a lot of rebuilding to do, Temple, and like everyone else, we don't have hard cash to do it with. In Texas you can trade fifty or a hundred pounds of bacon for a full-grown steer, seed, or anything else we need. I noticed some hogs down by the barn when I rode in. How many do we have?"

"Six that are big enough to butcher."

"That's a start." He smiled and ran his hands up her arms, curving them around her and pulling her the rest of the way down. Contented again, Temple nestled her head on his chest and listened to the low rumble of his voice. "I've been thinking about some things Lassiter said at the table tonight. We don't have enough Negroes—or have the money to hire more—to get the fields all plowed and replanted this spring. But there is plenty of grass and water on the Verdigris River northwest of here. We could put a good-sized herd of longhorns there, fatten them up. Then, in November when the ban is not in effect, drive them to Kansas. I wonder if I could talk Lassiter into going partners with me on it. I like him. He's a good man."