Regan's Pride (6 page)

His pale eyes narrowed. “It's a hell of a pity you didn't spend some of that misplaced longing on poor Barry,” he said mockingly.

Her features grew very still. “He had women,” she said.

“No wonder, if he had a wife who wouldn't let him touch her,” he returned. His face held such distaste that she squirmed in her chair. “You tormented him and then you let him get in a car when he'd been drinking,” he said curtly. “I won't ever forget, or forgive, that. You ended up with nothing and that's all you deserved. My God, the very sight of you sickens me!” he added roughly, and the contempt in his eyes hurt her for an instant before he turned away and continued on down the hall.

She didn't move until he was out of sight. The pain went even too deep for tears. She thought of how it was going to be for another week, before she and Sandy left for Victoria, knowing exactly how Ted felt about her, what he thought, and having to face his scorn day after endless day. She couldn't take it. She couldn't take any more. She was going to have to get away now.

If she waited until Sandy left to pick up her clothes, Ted would probably leave shortly thereafter. Then she could get a cab to the depot and a bus to Houston. She had just enough money for a flight. There was surely a YWCA in Houston, where she could stay. Even that would be infinitely better than here, with Ted tormenting her in reprisal for his cousin's death. If she'd been stronger, she'd have fought him tooth and nail. But she hadn't the heart for any more fighting right now. She only hoped she had enough strength to get out of here.

Sandy, unaware of Ted's visit, popped her head in the door. “I'm going. Ted said that he'll drive me over to your house. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Bye!”

Coreen had wanted to catch her eye and tell her she was leaving, but Sandy was already on her way out the front door. She heard her call something to Mrs. Bird. Two car doors slammed and an engine revved up.

 

Thirty harrowing minutes later, she said a hesitant goodbye to Mrs. Bird, asking first if she could have the loan of the clothes she was wearing, with a pair of Sandy's shoes, just until she could get her own.

“But I thought Sandy and Ted were going over to the house to get your things,” Mrs. Bird said, puzzled.

“I'm meeting them there,” Coreen lied glibly. “I just
remembered some things I need that they won't know about.”

“But, dear, you're just not in any shape to be trying to do something like this!”

“I'm doing just fine,” Coreen assured her with a gentle smile. “Thank you so much for your kindness. I won't ever forget you.”

Mrs. Bird was frowning now. “You should wait. Let me call over at your house and make sure they're there.”

“It won't matter, honestly, I'll be fine.” She heard the horn and smiled her relief. “There's the taxi I called. Now don't worry, all right?”

Mrs. Bird grimaced. “You're so pale.”

“I'm a trouper. I'll be fine.” She clutched her purse closer. It was all she had left of her own right now, all her worldly possessions. “I'll be in touch.”

“You're coming back, aren't you?”

“I may stay at the house,” she lied. “I'll see what they think,” she added deliberately. “Okay?”

Mrs. Bird relaxed. “Okay. Be careful, now.”

“Oh, I will. I will. Goodbye.”

Coreen made her way outside very slowly, grimacing as her bruised ribs protested the movement. She was weak and not as steady on her feet as she would have liked, but she made it to the cab with as much haste as possible. Her heart was going like a jackhammer and she was tense with nerves. She couldn't bear the thought that she might be stopped at the last minute. She got in, waving at Mrs. Bird, and gave him her destination. As she rode away, she sighed with relief. She was free at last. There would be no more torment. Barry was
gone and soon she'd be away from Ted. Then maybe she could have some peace again.

 

Ted and Sandy had found Henry, the chauffeur, in his small apartment when they got to the house to get Coreen's things. Henry had the keys. He unlocked the front door and showed them up to her room, his whole mood somber.

“Poor kid,” he said as they opened her closet and stopped dead at the sight that met their eyes. “He kept her poor for two years, hounded her and harassed her, brought her back every time she tried to run away. I hated working for him, but I couldn't leave her here to cope with it by herself.”

Ted's eyes flashed dangerously as he turned from his shocked contemplation of the three dresses in the huge closet to stare angrily at the older man.

“My cousin had millions of dollars,” he began.

Henry nodded. “Yes, sir, he did, and he bought himself the best clothes and the best cars and the best women in Houston,” he added, not backing down an inch from the threatening set of Ted's lithe body. “But all Coreen got was the back of his hand and the edge of his tongue. He cut her bad that last night he slept here, the night before the party. I had to drive her to the doctor and lie about how she got that way, with him barely sober and standing right there beside her and swearing she fell on a sheet of tin. I never saw so much blood…”

Ted and Sandy had both gone very still.

“He cut her? With what?” Ted demanded, his expression one of angry disbelief.

“With a knife, Mr. Regan,” Henry said. “He had her
down in the living room on the couch when I came in to see if he needed anything before I went to bed. He was cursing her, and threatening to kill her. I thought I'd talked some sense into him, but he kept cursing her about some birthday card she'd got and accused her of being unfaithful,” he added, frowning curiously at the expression that washed over Ted's face. “He cut her before I could get to him. She screamed and the blood went everywhere. That seemed to bring him to his senses. We took her to the doctor and got her sewed up, then he went back out again. We didn't see him all of the next day—not until he came home to take her to that party with him.”

Ted sat down in a chair. “It was over a birthday card?”

“Yes, sir. Seemed to make him crazy. He used to hit her sometimes. She never talked about it, but I could see the bruises. I'm glad he's dead,” he added icily. “He was a brute, and I don't care if he was your cousin, he got what he deserved. He was going to bring her back here that night and start on her again. He'd probably have killed her, but I wouldn't let her leave the party with him. He'd already dismissed me when he dragged her out front, and he was threatening her again. Nobody heard but the three of us. The gossip was just that she let him drive drunk.” Henry's dark eyes narrowed. “She didn't do anything except save herself from being cut worse than she already had been, or maybe killed. In the mood he was in, drinking like he was, he could have done anything to her.”

“You're lying,” Ted said through his teeth. His face had gone pasty.

He turned to Sandy, aware that Ted wasn't being responsive. “You get her to show you the stitches, Miss Regan,” Henry returned, talking to her. “It was a bad cut. The doctor thinks she's just clumsy, because of all those things that happened to her. Mr. Barry is what happened to her,” he added. “She never crashed in any glider…he knocked her down a flight of stairs!”

Ted's indrawn breath was audible. He put his head in his hands and Sandy ushered Henry out of the room, thanking him for his help. Ted hadn't moved when she got back and closed the door.

She didn't say a word. He looked as if his conscience was killing him already.

“Did you know?” he asked finally, raising a tortured face to hers.

“No,” she replied heavily. “I believed what she told me, just as you did. Barry wouldn't let me see her at all. We had to meet for lunch secretly, and she never talked about her marriage. Nobody knew. Except Henry, apparently.”

Ted got to his feet. “She can't know what we've found out,” he said slowly.

“Of course not.”

He glanced at her. “There's more than this, I imagine,” he said with the beginning of horror in his eyes.

She only nodded.

He turned, his heart stilled in his chest as he remembered what he'd said to Coreen just before he and Sandy had come over here. He probably couldn't undo the damage he'd done. He'd spent too much time hurting Coreen.

Sandy was staring at him and he hadn't been aware of her question. “What?” he murmured absently.

“I said, what are we going to do about Corrie?”

“For now,” he said with a heavy sigh, “let's just get her stuff packed and get out of here.”

T
ed carried the bags into the house. Only one of them had been needed to hold Coreen's pitiful few things. The others they'd carried were empty. It was only just beginning to sink in that Coreen had been the victim, not his cousin. Barry had lied to him from the very beginning, and because of those lies, he'd been cruel to Coreen. It was unbearable to remember it. Poor little thing, broken and bruised and terrified, and all she'd had from him was more humiliation and blame. He'd given her nothing else, in all the time he'd known her.

Mrs. Bird had gone home by the time they'd arrived. She left supper in the kitchen and a note saying that Coreen had promised to be in touch.

Ted read it twice, but it still hadn't quite made sense when a tight-lipped Sandy came back into the kitchen. “Her room is empty,” she said. “She's gone.”

“Gone?” He exploded. “My God, she could barely walk! Where could she have gone?”

“I have no idea,” Sandy said miserably, dropping into a chair. “She doesn't have a relative in the world. And it's a big world, too. She has the borrowed clothes on her back and she has less than a hundred dollars in her purse. Her credit cards won't do her any good. I'm sure Tina has canceled them all by now.”

Ted muttered under his breath, ramming his hands deep into his pockets. “Any guesses?”

“I'll phone Mrs. Bird. She might have said something before she left. Failing that, I'll start telephoning cab companies. What I can't understand is why she left so suddenly,” she said, shaking her head as she picked up the telephone receiver and began to press numbered buttons. “I'd already promised her that we'd move up to my apartment in Victoria next week.”

“When did you talk about that?” he demanded suddenly.

“Just before you came in… Hello, Mrs. Bird? Yes, do you know where Coreen went? You don't? Then do you know what cab company…yes, I know the one. Thanks. No, it's all right, we'll find her, don't worry.”

She hung up and started thumbing through the telephone directory, while Ted stared at the floor and cursed himself.

 

He knew there would be no hope of finding her before dark. He only hoped she had enough money to stay at a decent hotel, with doors that would lock. He refused to let Sandy go with him while he searched. It was his fault that she'd run away. Now he had to persuade her to come back. It wasn't going to be easy.

Coreen was sitting quietly in the common room of the YWCA when he arrived. She looked tired and sick, and a woman who looked as if she might be a social worker was sitting with her, taking notes on a clipboard.

Ted felt his whole body tensing when he got close enough to hear what was being said.

“…unlikely that we can place you until you're in better physical condition, Mrs. Tarleton, but in the meanwhile we can work on finding accommodation for you. Now…”

“She has accommodation already,” Ted said quietly.

Coreen's head turned and her eyes mirrored her horror. She went deathly pale and gripped the arms of the chair for dear life as Ted came closer, tall and elegant in his gray suit and matching Stetson and boots. The only splash of color was in the conservative stripe of his white shirt and the paisley tie he wore with it. He looked very rich.

“Do you know this man, Coreen?” the social worker asked suspiciously.

“He's my best friend's brother,” Coreen managed to say. “And he needn't have come here. I can take care of myself.”

“She has a cracked rib and some deep lacerations from a skydiving accident,” Ted told the older woman quietly. “She's been staying with us while she got better. There's been a misunderstanding.”

The older woman's eyes narrowed. “Considering the condition Mrs. Tarleton arrived here in, I should think that is an understatement, Mr…?”

“Regan,” he said shortly. “Ted Regan.”

It was a name that was known in south Texas. The woman's arrogance retreated. “I see.”

“No, you don't. But we'll see that Coreen is properly cared for. She was recently widowed.”

“A misfortune,” the woman said. And before Ted could agree, her eyes hardened and she added, “Because after speaking with another social worker in Jacobsville this morning, I should have enjoyed bringing her late husband before a grand jury.”

Ted didn't respond as Coreen had expected him to, in ready defense of his cousin. He didn't reply at all. She had protested that telephone call, but the social worker had been adamant about getting to the truth. In the end, Coreen was too shell-shocked to refuse her answers.

“Where are your things, Coreen?” he asked, and his tone wasn't one she recognized.

Her frantic eyes met those of the social worker. “I don't have to go, do I?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

Ted's face contorted before he got it under control. His hand went deep into his pocket and clenched there. “It's all right,” he said, controlling the urge to pick her up and run for it. “I'm going to be away on business. Sandy will be all alone at the house. She'd enjoy having you keep her company.”

She had so few options. She was tired and hurting more than ever from her physical wounds with all the exertion she'd been forced to make. The emotional wounds were even worse. She looked up at Ted with a tortured expression.

“You'll never have cause to run away again, Coreen,” he said huskily, his features rigid. “I swear you won't!”

She didn't trust him. It was in her eyes. She averted them to the social worker, and saw the indecision there. The woman would fight for her if she could. But Ted Regan was powerful, much more formidable than Barry had ever been.

It was the past all over again. Money and power, taking charge, taking control, taking over. She couldn't run. She had no energy left.

“I'll go back,” she said in a defeated tone.

“Your things?”

She gestured at the small, thin bag. “This is all I have.”

His expression fascinated the social worker, who thought she'd seen them all.

“You will take care of her?” the older woman asked with a last, faint worry.

He nodded. He didn't trust his voice to speak. Coreen stood up, but when he offered his hand, she moved out of reach. Her eyes didn't quite make it to his face as she turned to thank the social worker before she moved toward the door.

His car, a sleek Jaguar, was sitting right outside the door. He helped her into the passenger seat and went around to get in beside her, stowing his Stetson upside-down on the hat carrier above the visor.

Coreen's hands clenched over the legs of her loose, borrowed jeans. She stared at them, noticing idly that her small, thin wedding band was still on her ring finger. Barry had given her that one piece of jewelry; no other. She didn't know why she was still wearing it, after all this time.

Ted noticed her tension. “I'm sorry,” he said curtly.

She looked out the windshield, unmoving, unmoved. “Sandy shouldn't have made you come.”

“Sandy doesn't make me do anything,” he said quietly. “I apologize for the things I said to you, Coreen.”

She didn't understand his change of heart, and she didn't trust it. She didn't answer.

He knew that it was going to be difficult. He hadn't realized that all his apologies were going to be futile as well. She wouldn't even look at him.

He started the car and drove them quickly and efficiently back to Jacobsville.

 

Mrs. Bird had lunch ready by the time they arrived, but Coreen was too worn-out to eat any. Refusing Ted's help, she let Sandy ease her down the hall and back into bed again. Mrs. Bird came in right behind her, fussing and coaxing until she got her to eat a sandwich. But she'd barely swallowed it down when the long, uncertain hours caught up with her. She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Ted looked up as Sandy joined him in the living room. “How is she?” he asked.

“Sleeping. Poor little thing, she's worn-out. Why did she do it?” she added. “Did she tell you?”

With a set expression, he moved to his desk and picked up the telephone. “I'm going to fly up to Kansas and check on a stallion I'm thinking of buying.”

Sandy was beginning to get a picture she didn't like. “You said something to her, didn't you?” she began.

“It's ancient history now,” he replied. “She's safe from me. I won't hurt her anymore.”

“So you think she's finally paid enough for the
privilege of loving you? How kind of you,” Sandy returned angrily.

His fingers trembled a little on the telephone face. “She doesn't love me,” he replied coolly. “She was infatuated. That's all it was.”

“You're sure?”

“If she'd loved me, she wouldn't have married my cousin, much less have stayed with him for two years,” he said.

“As I remember, you were singularly unkind to her while her father was dying, Ted,” Sandy reminded him as she got up from the sofa. “Barry pretended to be kind and gentle and offered her comfort, something you never did.”

His face contorted as he stared sightlessly out the window. “Don't you think I know?” he growled.

She frowned, waiting. But he got the number he'd dialed, and business replaced torment in his deep voice.

Coreen didn't wake up until Ted had gone. Sandy sat with her for the rest of the day, and the one thing they didn't talk about in the hours that followed was Sandy's brother.

True to his word, Ted stayed away until he could put off his return no longer. Coreen got stronger by the day, and she was moving around with alacrity by the time Ted walked in the door one sunny afternoon.

She was laughing at something Sandy had said, her blue eyes full of humor, her elfin face smiling, aglow with pleasure. But she heard his step and turned her head, and all of it, every bit of it, went out of her like dying light. Ted felt suddenly empty. He'd dreamed over and over again of coming back and having Coreen's face
light up when he walked in the door. It had once, years ago, for so brief a time. But it wasn't joy that claimed her features now. It was pain.

He couldn't bear to see it. He put his case down and greeted Sandy with what he thought was normal composure before he glanced at their houseguest.

“Hello, Coreen,” he said with careful indifference.

“Ted.” She didn't move, as if he had her in his sights and might fire at any minute. In the old jeans and ribbed knit top she was wearing, every thin line of her body was visible. Defensively, her arms folded over her breasts.

He forced his eyes away from her.

“Did you find your stallion before you went on to the cattlemen's conference in Los Angeles?” Sandy asked pleasantly.

“Not really,” he returned. He sat down and crossed his long legs. “I wasn't looking too hard.”

“Lillian phoned twice while you were away,” Sandy continued. “She said it was urgent.”

“I'll call her later. How are you feeling, Coreen?”

“Much better, thanks,” she replied. Her eyes sought his warily. “If you'd rather I left…”

“I wouldn't,” he said curtly. His pale eyes sought hers and tried to hold them, but Coreen wasn't taking any more chances. She averted her own gaze to Sandy and smiled at her.

“Then I'll leave you two to talk,” she said. She got to her feet, ignoring Ted's quiet protest that there was no need to absent herself. She walked out of the living room and back down the hall to the bedroom they'd given her.

“Well, what else did you expect?” Sandy asked when
she heard the muffled curse leave his lips as he stood by the window. “She's had nothing but pain from men.”

Ted reached for a cigarette and almost had it lit when Sandy took it from between his lips and tossed it into the fireplace.

“Stop that,” she told him. “I'm tired of watching people try to kill themselves.”

He glared at her. “You're not my keeper.”

“You need one,” she said shortly, her whole posture challenging. “Why don't you go and return Lillian's call? She's crazy about you, and old enough not to make you feel so guilty.”

The innuendo didn't get past him. “Maybe I'll do that,” he said, turning from the window. “Haven't you got something to do?”

“I had a date, but I broke it,” she said. “I can't leave Coreen alone with you.”

His eyes flashed dangerously in a face gone suddenly pale.

“Don't start rattling at me, you old snake,” she returned. “I trust you, but she doesn't. I don't guess you've even noticed that she's afraid of you.”

He stood very still. “What?”

“She's afraid of you, Ted,” she repeated. “Good grief, don't you ever look?”

He let out a rough breath between his teeth and ran an angry hand around the back of his neck. “She never was before,” he said defensively.

“That's right,” she said. “Before she was married, she never once thought that a man would be physically cruel to her.”

He rammed his hands into his pockets. “Damned little toad,” he said huskily. “I pitied him, and there
he was, feeding me lies about her to keep me angry, to keep me away so that I wouldn't know what he was doing to her!”

“Would you have cared?” Sandy challenged with a mocking laugh. “You're the last person on earth Coreen would look to for help!”

His broad chest rose and fell heavily as he struggled with memories that hurt him. “Then, or now?” he asked.

“What's the difference?” she replied. “You don't have to worry about her watching you anymore, by the way. She won't go near the window in her room, even to open it.”

He made a sound under his breath and left the room, staring straight ahead with eyes that didn't even see.

 

Coreen had wandered outside on shaky legs to watch the horses. Ted was gone. She'd made sure before she'd even left the house.