Legacies (45 page)

Lije shook his head and stepped to the side. "You go first, Alex. I prefer you in front of me." For an instant the mask slipped, and Lije was treated to a look of glittering malevolence, an expression that was strongly reminiscent of Kipp. At that moment, Lije was sure beyond any doubt that Alex had no intention of letting the past die.

 

Out of pure devilry, Alex stayed longer than he planned, mixing and mingling, laughing with this person and that. He was amused by the way neither Lije nor The Blade let him out of his sight and the way The Blade's Negro servant stuck closer to him than a noontime shadow.

Jed Parmelee and his daughter Diane had just left when Alex finally wandered over to Sorrel. "We have to be going now. Are you going to walk me out to my horse?"

"Of course, I will." She beamed with quick pleasure.

Alex offered her his arm and glanced over, deliberately catching Lije's eye when Sorrel slipped her hand under the crook of his elbow. He almost laughed out loud at the sudden stiffening in Lije's demeanor.

When they reached the horses, Sorrel took her role as hostess seriously and turned to Alex's companion. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brandon."

"Same to you, miss." He nodded and untied the reins to his horse.

Facing Alex once again, she took his arm to draw him aside. "Before you go, there's something I need to tell you," she said, darting a quick glance at Bennet, making it clear she didn't want him to overhear.

"Sure." Alex walked a couple of steps away with her and smiled when he noticed Lije watched from the veranda. "What's on your mind?"

"It's something Mother told me—about when Uncle Kipp died."

"What about it?" He stopped smiling.

"She said that Uncle Kipp had a gun hidden inside his jacket, and that when he pulled it out, that's when my father shot him. She said you couldn't see the gun because you were standing behind Uncle Kipp."

Little frissons of shock sprayed through him as Alex recalled the pocket revolver his father always carried. He had forgotten about it. Was that what happened? Had his father pulled his pocket gun?

He glanced sharply at Sorrel. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"It could have happened that way, couldn't it?"

"Sure it could have, but it didn't." He deliberately scoffed at the idea. "I saw everything that happened, and my father didn't have a gun. The Blade made up that story so your mother wouldn't think he was a cold-blooded murderer."

"Then . . . it isn't true?"

"I told you I was there. I saw it." Alex paused and gave her a hurt and bitter look. "There's no way I can prove it. And nobody's going to take my word over his. Not even you." He turned on his heel and walked over to the mare.

"Alex, wait." Sorrel hurried after Wm and caught his arm. "I believe you."

"I hope you do." He gave her a long, sad look. "A man gets lonely when he has no one who cares about him or believes in him."

"I care about you, Alex. You can always count on me."
 

He reached out and fingered the gold chain that held her locket. "You take care of yourself and keep wearing this."

"I will," Sorrel promised and stepped back as he gathered up the mare's reins. "Where are you going now? When will I see you again?"

"I don't know, but if you ever need me, contact old Joe Washburn over at Salina. He'll get a message to me wherever I am."

"Mr. Washburn at Salina," she repeated to fix it in her mind.

"That's our secret now. Don't you be telling anybody." He stepped into the stirrup and swung onto the mare.

"I won't. You can trust me, Alex."

Lije waited on the veranda, his impatience growing. The only thing that kept him from charging out there and sending Alex on his way was the certain knowledge that Alex deliberately delayed his departure just to irritate him.

At last Alex wheeled the mare around and rode off. Sorrel waved to him, then turned and started back to the house. When she saw Lije, her steps faltered a bit. Then, with a slightly combative jut of her chin, she continued onto the veranda.

"What are you doing out here?" she challenged.

"Keeping an eye on you." Which was half-true. "What did Alex have to say? You two talked a long time."

"It was personal. It had nothing to do with you."

"Sorrel, you be careful around Alex. He isn't the kind of man you think he is."

"You don't know him the way I do."

"But I may know more about Alex than you do," Lije countered. "He's traveling in some bad company, Sorrel. That man with him, the one who called himself Brandon—his real name is Morgan
 
Bennet. He's
 
wanted
 
in
 
Missouri
 
for
 
robbing a bank and killing a teller. He had two men with him when he held up that bank. One of them was described as tall and slim, with black hair and dark eyes."

"You're trying to say that was Alex, aren't you?" she accused. "But that description could fit a lot of other people, too. You'll never make me believe it was Alex. He wouldn't do that."

Irritated by her blind faith in the man, Lije went on the attack. "What kind of work does he do, Sorrel? Where does he get his money? That was a new store-bought shirt and coat he was wearing, and he had a new saddle on the mare. How did he pay for them?"

"He probably won the money racing Shooting Star," she retorted, her eyes snapping with temper and outrage. "He didn't steal it."

"He's using you, Sorrel. He's using you to get back at the major, trying to turn you against him, against all of us. And he's laughing at you the whole time, knowing you'll believe anything he says. He doesn't care about you."

"That's a lie!" she raged. "Alex cares about me. I'm the only one he can trust, the only one who believes in him. You're making all this up to make him look bad. But it's a lie. It's all a lie!"

She stormed off. Lije began to go after her, then stopped and sighed in frustration and disgust. Sorrel was at the rebellious age when she challenged the opinions of her elders in an attempt to assert herself. The more he spoke against Alex, the more he made him a martyr in her eyes. Instead of tearing Alex down, he was elevating him, turning him into a romantic figure who was horribly misunderstood by everyone but Sorrel.

The Blade came out. "Did Alex leave?"

"A few minutes ago." Lije nodded and glanced after Sorrel. She was still on the veranda, a rigid and defiantly proud figure staring down the lane, a hand clutching the locket at her throat. Lije cursed softy when he saw that.

"What's wrong?" The Blade divided his curious glance between Sorrel and Lije.

"I tried to warn Sorrel about Alex, but she wouldn't listen," he said, then told The Blade about his earlier confrontation with Alex and the outlaw Bennet, what he knew and what he suspected.

"Naturally, she didn't believe you."

"She called me a liar. I don't know how to reach her. She's so upset and angry now ..." He let the rest trail off in a sigh and shook his head.

"I'll go talk to her."

"Good luck," Lije said with skepticism and headed back inside.

Sorrel continued to stare at the lane, but The Blade noticed the mutinous tilt of her chin that signaled her awareness of his approach. When he stopped beside her, she threw him a sideways glance. The sparkle of temper in her eyes was so reminiscent of Temple that he almost smiled.

"I suppose you've come to tell me what a terrible, evil man Alex is, too." Her low voice vibrated with anger.

"Lije told me you were upset. You'll have to forgive your brother. He still tends to see you as his little sister, someone he needs to watch over and protect. He doesn't realize that you'll be fifteen in a few more months—a grown young lady, intelligent enough to figure things out on her own."

"You're just complimenting me because you think I can be flattered into believing all those things about Alex," she retorted.

This time The Blade didn't hide his smile. "I was speaking the truth. But you have proved you're intelligent enough to recognize that."

"Like Alex, I suppose," she said with an undertone of sarcasm.

"I'm not here to talk about Alex."

"Oh?" She turned and arched an eyebrow in a show of mocking skepticism that would have done Temple proud. "Then why are you here?"

"Two of Rans's friends from the old Texas Brigade brought a fiddle and a banjo, and your grandmother is dusting off the piano keys while the others clear a space in the parlor for people to dance." Even as he spoke, the first ripple of notes came from inside the house. "I thought I would ask a certain beautiful young lady to dance with me." He half-turned and presented his arm to her. "Would you do me the honor of being my partner?"

Sorrel hung back, eyeing him warily. "You don't really want to dance with me."

"Oh, but I do." He took her arm and threaded it through the crook of his. He'd had few chances to be a father to his daughter these last few years. He was certain if he had been around more to give her the attention she needed, she wouldn't have turned to Alex. He wanted to make up for that. "I can hear people now whispering to each other, who is that lovely young lady dancing with The Blade Stuart? Finally someone will say, That's his daughter Sorrel. It will be one of the proudest moments in my life."

"You're just saying that to make me feel good." But there was a betraying glow of pleasure in her eyes.

"No, it makes
me
feel good," he told her, then paused a beat. "Shall we?"

"Very well," she said primly. "But you may as well know that I still don't believe all those things Lije said about Alex."

The Blade threw his head back and laughed.

 

 

 

30

 

 

Stuart/Lassiter Ranch On the Verdigris River

Cherokee Nation

June 1867

 

The liquid in the bucket shimmered a light, iridescent green. Lije scooped some of it up in his fingers, feeling its slickness as it slipped between them to drip back into the bucket. He took a deep smell of it, then touched the tip of his tongue to it and looked at Rans.

"Remind me never again to take two days off to help you. I don't care how shorthanded you are, Rans."

"You didn't take time off to help me. You came to track down an empty rumor that Alex was up here."

"But I stayed to help you." Lije picked up a rag and wiped the thick liquid from his fingers. "It's oil, all right."

"That's great. That's just dandy," Rans muttered. "We sink a deeper well to increase our water supply and look what happens. Tell me what in hell am I supposed to do with it?"

"You could do what that fellow from Pennsylvania did after the war. He pumped the oil out, separated the salt water from it, put the rest in containers, and sold it for lamp fuel or cattle dip."

"You can't be serious. Do you know how much time that would take?" Rans said in disgust.
 

"I wasn't serious."

"I sure as hell hope not," Rans declared, then sighed and shook his head. "I guess we might as well joke about it. We sure as hell can't drink it."

Lije nudged the bucket with the toe of his boot. "You could fill a couple hogsheads with it and use it here on the ranch for fuel and wagon grease."

"I can do that—after I sink a new well."

A horse whinnied in the corral. Its ringing call was quickly answered by the whicker of a second horse somewhere on the prairie. Lije frowned and ran a searching glance to locate the second horse.

To the south, no more than a half mile distant, a horse and buggy laid a swath through the tall buffalo grass. A saddle horse was tied behind the buggy, and two men on horseback ranged alongside.

"Looks like you have visitors," he told Rans.

Together they watched the small party draw closer. "Isn't that The Blade?" Rans said.

Lije nodded, his attention zeroing in on the second man with one arm. "Jed Parmelee is with him." Simple logic told him Diane rode in the buggy. Uneasiness leapt through his system like lightning.

When the buggy rolled to a stop near them, Deu was at the reins with Diane next to him. Rans stepped up to greet them. Lije felt the same urge, but he resisted it and kept his distance.

"Diane, how are you?" Rans smiled a welcome. "Susannah will be glad to see you. She's been starving for the sight of another woman. I think that's half the reason she's so anxious for us to leave tomorrow for Sorrel's graduation."

"I wouldn't be surprised. It can be lonely for a woman out here," Diane said, then looked at Lije, a question and more in her eyes. "After our talk at Susannah's wedding, I thought you might come by the store."

"I've been busy." He didn't admit that he had been tempted to do just that. At least a dozen times he'd considered saddling his horse and riding to Tulsey Town. Cold reality had always set in. With nerves raw, Lije turned to her father. "Good to see you, Jed."

"Same to you, Lije." He swung out of the saddle and stepped to the ground.

Rans came over to shake hands with him. "Who's minding the store while both of you are away?"

"My old striker Amos Johnson has come to work for us. He and his wife are looking after things."

"I stopped by the store on my way here and convinced Jed and Diane to ride along with me." Saddle leather creaked as The Blade dismounted. "I had a feeling Susannah might be ready for company about now. This way we can all travel together tomorrow." His glance slid to Lije. "What did you find out about Alex?"

"No one's seen him around here."

"I expected that," he said. "How is the new well coming?"

"It isn't. We tapped into an oil spring." Rans looked with grim disgust at the bucket of crude oil. "I'll have to dig another one."

"My news isn't much better. "The Blade paused and glanced at the buggy. "Deu, why don't you drive Diane up to the house. Tell Susannah we'll be along directly."

Lije felt the quick assessment of Diane's gaze before Deu slapped the reins and the buggy lurched forward. When it had pulled past him, he turned and watched it for a second as the buggy rattled toward the wood-frame house sitting by itself in the empty expanse of prairie.