Legacy (45 page)

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Authors: Dana Black

BOOK: Legacy
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He turned me back to face the auctioneer.

 

'Goin' three . . .'

 

My hand went up. God help me, I thought, maybe it is better.

 

'Is that one fifty-seven, Miss Rawlings?'

 

'It's one sixty, Ulys.' I had my voice under control now.

 

The crowd erupted in a cheer of delight. Beside me, Layton Jacobs patted my hand. 'We're still with you, Miss Rawlings. We'll just call it a second mortgage, unless Mr. Graybar wants some other . . .'

 

'We looked around for Steven, but he had already disappeared back into the crowd. Over to my right, a grim-faced Elliot stared wordlessly at the trees beyond the auctioneer's table.

 

'One sixty. Do I hear one sixty-five, one sixty-five?'

 

Elliot did not move. His arms folded, pointed chin out-thrust, he kept staring into space.

 

'Goin' once . . . one sixty ..."

 

'Do you think he'll go another round?' Layton whispered.

 

Steven answered, behind me again. 'He doesn't have it. Ten to one says he can't top one sixty.'

 

From behind a cloud the sun appeared and splashed light on to the eastern side of Graybar's Castle, making it appear half new stucco and half old. Here in the clearing the people were silent. Even Ulys paused in his incantation for a moment.

 

'Here's your money,' Steven said to me, 'ten thousand in cash. You won't need more.' He pressed a thick fold of bills into my hand.

 

'Goin' twice . . .'

 

Elliot gave a brief glance in my direction. Then he turned on his heel and, amid the murmurs of the crowd, walked away to where his carriage stood waiting.

 

'Goin' three times.' Down came the gavel. 'Sold!' Another cheer went up. 'To Miss Catherine Rawlings of Grampian, Pennsylvania!'

 

'Congratulations!' Layton was shaking my hand.

 

As the crowd pressed closer, I heard Steven's voice. 'Well, I'm going now. I'll send you a bill.'

 

'Steven, wait!' Hurriedly I put Steven's money into Layton's hand. 'You've got the rest, Layton. You go up and take care of the papers for me, would you? I'll be right back.'

 

Steven was walking away from the crowd, away from the castle, out across the lawn to the large oak. I had to hurry to overtake him, lifting my tan twill riding skirt above my ankles as I went. I knew people would be looking. And they would talk about how quickly Justin McKay's fiancée ran after Steven Graybar, but I could not help that. Let them talk. I had to set things right with Steven. I had to make him see that I wasn't ungrateful.

 

He turned when he heard me call out to him. As he waited for me, those dark eyes danced with light and a smile played faintly on his lips.

 

'So soon?' The easy urbanity of his tone put me on my guard. 'I hadn't thought that for a mere ten thousand dollars. . .'

 

'Steven, don't.' I stood still for a moment and caught my breath, trying to find the exact words I wanted. 'I don't want you to misunderstand. I just want to say that I do appreciate . . . that I know what Legacy must mean to you. It must have taken . . . '

 

He swore softly under his breath. 'You really are afraid, aren't you, Catherine?' He shook his head, the look on his face suddenly grim.

 

'Afraid? I don't. . .'

 

'You're afraid of me. You're afraid of what you feel. I can see you now, trying to keep it from showing, even to yourself.'

 

I went cold inside, unable to speak. Of course, he was right. But I was still afraid. I could never be open with him.

 

He was still talking, the voice flat, resigned, only a little sad. 'I thought for a while that you'd always held back because it might all come to an end, because of the way our families were. But no, that's not it. You really are afraid to love me. You want someone who's safe, someone you don't really have to love.'

 

'Someone like Justin McKay.' The words slipped out by themselves. I hadn't meant to say them, but it was the truth. Justin was safer. I might never have the ecstasy, but I would never have the storms. We could live our own lives, pursue our own careers, Justin and I. Why did that sound so wrong when Steven said it? It was my choice to make, not his!

 

These thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, and then I saw that my words had hurt Steven. 'And you think that's the good, safe, businesslike thing to do?' he asked, looking away for a moment. 'Let me tell you something. At the back of your mind, you're still thinking I'll be here when you want me. You're going to change your mind about McKay. I could see that this morning. And when you do decide, suddenly you'll know what you really want.'

 

He paused, and then looked directly at me, his voice now with a mocking edge. 'And then you're going to see Steven Graybar as something shiny and new, something glorious and wonderful. But then it will be too late. In fact, it's too late now.'

 

He touched me under the chin for a moment and then took his hand away. 'Goodbye, Catherine. You won't be seeing me again.'

 

He turned to go, and I recovered my voice. 'You'll see me again! I'm going to pay you back your money, every cent of it!'

 

He gave a short, harsh laugh. 'That's like you, but don't. There's no need to now.'

 

'That's not true! You're not going to make me feel obligated like that! I'm going to pay!'

 

'You can't pay me. You won't be able to. And besides, I'm going to take more than ten thousand dollars' worth of Legacy away with me. Now, goodbye.'

 

'What are you talking about? I ... '

 

'It's no use talking. Now, don't follow me back into the house. There'll be gossip enough as it is without your running after me again and making a scene.'

 

I stood watching him stride away. So damnably confident! The way he walked, one would have thought he had just won something!

 

And the way I felt, I would have thought that I had lost. A cold, numbing fear that I had really made a dreadful mistake began to gnaw at me. But I couldn't think that way! I had made my choice. There was no going back. Legacy was mine now, every inch of it. The land I was standing on, the grass, the oak tree, the spruce, the forests all around - they were mine.

 

And I would repay Steven - every cent.

 

He had reached the crowd. After a brief word with the sheriff, he walked up the steps to the back entrance and closed the door behind him without looking back.

 

From over to the right, Billy Joe was riding towards me, leading my horse behind him.

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Boughs of the tall green hemlocks on either side of us lashed the flanks of our horses. Billy Joe and I were riding down the Legacy carriage path as quickly as was safe, for he had made it plain that speed might be important.

 

He had found Red Campbell, but the man was dying. 'You'd scarcely tell who it was, ma'am,' Billy Joe had told me up in the clearing. 'Them burns didn't heal right, and I guess he's been on the run till just a few days ago.'

 

'Where is he now?'

 

'He's at the clinic, ma'am. They don't know it's him, I guess, 'cause he didn't use his real name. That threw me off for a while when I first heard he'd come back to town last night. That's why I had to keep at it till this morning. Finally I got in and had a look at him. He's in a room by himself, under the name of Bell. And he looks like he don't have very long.'

 

'What did you say to him?'

 

'Asked him what you wanted to know, that's all - who was he workin' for when he . . . shot Mr. Rawlings. But he just grinned. Said he wouldn't tell me, but he'd tell you. He laughed, mean-like, and he got to coughin', so I left. Then I looked at my watch and realized it was past the time for me to meet you at the bank, so I just went straight over there.'

 

So now we were making our way down the trail, headed for town. As long as there was a chance to learn the truth about Father's killer, I knew I could not pass it by. Would Campbell tell the truth? A dying man would have no reason to lie. If only he were still conscious when we arrived!

 

We came around a bend in the wooded path and suddenly had to rein in our horses. Ahead of us was a carriage that blocked the way. There was not enough room on either side for a rider to get through.

 

'Hey, speed it up, there!' called Billy Joe. 'Comin' through!'

 

But the carriage kept on at its same sedate pace.

 

'How far till the end of these trees?' I asked.

 

"Bout half a mile, I think. Can't see the end of 'em from here, that's for sure. Here, come on up close behind him with me. I'll get us along.'

 

We rode up to where we could almost touch the lacquered black wood of the carriage. Then Billy Joe handed me his reins. 'Ya just come along and pick me up when we're out of these woods,' he said. He quickly dismounted. Then, almost without breaking stride, he leaped up op to the empty brass luggage carrier to the rear of the cab. In another moment he had clambered up on to the roof. I could hear the surprised voice of the coachman, but a few blunt words from Billy Joe - and a look at Billy Joe's massive size, no doubt - soon ended the protest. The carriage began to pick up speed and was soon clattering along at a pace I had trouble matching myself.

 

Soon I could see the open land ahead. As the coach lurched forward and banged along into the grassy fields where the road widened, I came up alongside. Billy Joe brought the carriage to a stop.

 

While I waited for him to get down from the cab and mount his horse again, I took a silver dollar from my purse and tossed it up to the startled driver.

 

'That's for your trouble,' I said. 'Give our apologies to whoever's in that carriage. I hope we didn't shake them up too ...'

 

The carriage door opened and I saw the wizened face of Mr. Elliot. His sharp features looked doubly unpleasant, for he was clearly beside himself with rage. 'You . . .' he sputtered, 'you ..."

 

'On second thoughts,' I called to the driver, 'don't apologize. Mr. Elliot probably has a train to catch, and we wouldn't want to keep him waiting!'

 

And Billy Joe and I were off, leaving behind us the furious Mr. Elliot.

 

'Serves him right, ma'am,' said Billy Joe as we slowed down a bit at the edge of town.

 

'I know. That's the second time he's deliberately opposed me. Let's hope it's the last.' Then I had an idea. 'As a matter of fact, Billy Joe, why don't you see what you can find out about Mr. Elliot? See if you can find out something that might give us a way to keep him in check, in case he decides to get in our way again.'

 

Billy Joe flashed me a grin. 'Oh, I can tell you that right now, ma'am. I checked up on him right after the first time, soon as you gave me my job. Struck me that a man like that might not be above hirin' a few chaps to see that we had some troubles in the mill. So I looked into things - as much as I could from up here.'

 

'And what did you find?'

 

'Well, nothin' incriminatin'. But I did find you a good way to keep him in line. Only reason I didn't say anything about it was that I figured you wouldn't need it, now that you're engaged.'

 

'Billy Joe, I don't see . . . '

 

'If you want to keep Elliot from meddlin', seems to me all you need to do is have Mr. McKay put in a word or two. He's on the board of directors of Philadelphia First.'

 

' He's what?' I could scarcely believe it. For a moment I was angry. Justin ought to have known that Elliot was coming. He should have warned me so that I wouldn't have had to go up to the auction unprepared . . . But it was senseless to expect that of Justin. He was so busy he scarcely had time to talk to me, much less keep up on the activities of a Philadelphia bank. It was likely he didn't even bother to attend the board meetings, now that he had moved away. Probably that was why he hadn't told me about the connection.

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