To Love and Honor

by Irene Brand

  “Decisions! Decisions!”

  “But consider—have they been good decisions?”

  She thought of the decisions she had made. She had defied Larry to assure that Janie received the Best of Show award. That was good. She had decided to bring her mother from prison, and that, too, had turned out well. She had become engaged to Roger, and that was the best decision of all, or at least it seemed that way until their telephone conversation last night.

  “Up until I made the decision to meet my grandfather and check into my mother’s past—they were good. But I disregarded the advice of my mother and Aunt Ruth. Only time will tell whether that was a good or bad decision. Right now, it doesn’t seem good.”

  “Go back to Maitland before you come to any conclusion. Think it over carefully, and if I can be of any help to you, I’m as close as the telephone.”

  Violet left Kansas City by late evening, and breathed a sigh of relief when she accessed I-70, crossed the border into Missouri, and glimpsed the beautiful skyline of the city in her rearview mirror. As long as she was in Kansas, she didn’t feel safe from her grandfather’s clutches. Her progress on Saturday was impeded when a freak spring snowstorm swept through central Missouri. By late evening, the sun was out, melting the snow, but the treacherous roads had delayed Violet, necessitating a stopover in a motel, and she arrived in Maitland shortly after noon on Sunday.

  Chapter Nine

  When Violet parked in her driveway, she leaned her head on the steering wheel and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. It had been a frustrating journey, for at times, she was hardly conscious of where she was and what she was doing. Surely God must have given her special attention on the long drive home, because in her present mental state of mind, she didn’t believe she was capable of driving an automobile.

  After she put Kansas City behind her, she had pushed the threat of her grandfather in the background, but even then she couldn’t concentrate on operating the auto. Over and over she wondered how to effect a reconciliation with Roger, or if she should even try, but now that she was back in Maitland, she had an overpowering desire to see him. All her life, she had been alone, but she had gotten accustomed to Roger’s company and care, and she was completely bereft without him. But if he no longer wanted her? She could barely stand the thought. She admitted that she couldn’t blame any man for not wanting to marry a person with a family background such as hers. But that hadn’t seemed to matter to Roger. Perhaps she was reading something into his refusal to come to Kansas City that he hadn’t intended. Was it fair to deny him the opportunity to defend himself?

  Again she had no control over her actions as she went immediately to the phone and dialed Roger’s number. Misty answered, and when Violet asked for Roger she said, “He isn’t here, Miss Conley. Right after lunch, he put the dogs in the truck, and I suppose he went to the farm.”

  After thanking Misty, Violet changed into rugged clothing and headed out of town. Mentally and physically, she was exhausted, but she would never rest until she saw Roger, believing she would be able to tell from his facial expression if he was through with her.

  She parked her car beside his house and walked up the farm road toward the hillock. An hour later, she was sitting on the tailgate of the truck when he came out of the trees followed by the two dogs, who set up a howl when they saw her.

  Did his steps decelerate as if he were reluctant to meet her? She couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t speak when he came to the truck. He went through the regular ritual of giving the animals food and drink before he came to stand beside her.

  “When did you get back?” he asked.

  “About noon.” She looked at him piercingly. “I wondered if I should return at all.”

  He playfully chucked her under the chin, but his dark eyes were watchful as he said, “Did becoming a rich woman sound better than anything you could find in Maitland?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Roger, do you think any amount of money would make up for losing you? Why have you been so cold and distant with me this week? I thought if there was any person in this whole world I could depend upon to understand what I’ve endured the past few days, it was you.” Her lower lip quivered, and she clamped it between her teeth to stop the trembling, but she couldn’t do anything about the tears that cascaded down her cheeks.

  “But I haven’t been…” Roger began, as he moved closer and stood eye level with her as she sat on the truck.

  “Yes, you have. You told me once you would be there for me any time I needed you, and I’ve never needed support as much as I have this past week, and you wouldn’t even let me talk to you about it.”

  Her tears turned into sobs, and Roger gathered her into his arms. “Oh, my dear, you have it all wrong. I was trying to do what was best for you—I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He rocked her back and forth in his embrace, and her body shook as her sobs faded into the plaintive cries of a wounded animal. Roger was crying, too, and he couldn’t speak, but finally he swiped his eyes with the back of his hand and cleared his throat noisily.

  “Come, sweetheart, let’s drive down to the house. You’re cold, and we need to clear up this misunderstanding between us.” He lifted her from the seat and carried her to the truck cab. He soon secured the dogs, and they drove in silence to the house.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, as he opened the door into his retreat.

  “Probably. I haven’t eaten anything today. I may not have eaten yesterday—I don’t remember.”

  He turned on the heater. “Let me take your coat,” Roger said. “The room will heat in a hurry. We’ll eat later, but let’s talk first.”

  They sat on the couch, and Roger pulled her close, for Violet was still shaking, and she didn’t know if the trembling was caused from cold or stress.

  “You couldn’t have felt more lonely than I have this week,” he said. “When you telephoned Tuesday night and said your grandfather wanted to make you his heir, and that he would accept me sight unseen as your husband, and all it would cost me was to change my name to Conley, I thought that was funny, at first. Then, I flipped on the late news and saw the telecast where you were at your grandfather’s palatial home, wearing that fancy black dress and sporting diamonds that I couldn’t buy with ten years’ salary, seemingly right at home in that environment. Talk about feeling alone! I didn’t sleep at all that night, afraid of losing you, saddened by how this turn of events could ruin our lives.”

  “But I told you—I was virtually forced to stay for that reception and dressed up like a mannequin by his servant. My grandfather is a man who will not take no for an answer. He practically imprisoned me.”

  “Well, he will have to take no from me. I couldn’t possibly be happy as your husband if I succumbed to the lure of riches, changed my name to Conley and became a tool of your grandfather’s. But on the other hand, I didn’t think I had the right to deny you your rightful inheritance, and if you wanted to take him up on his proposal, I wouldn’t stand in your way. I would sacrifice my happiness for yours.”

  Violet pushed out of his arms, and her vivid eyes blazed in anger. “I wish people would stop being so self-sacrificial for me. My mother denied me for years because she was doing what was best for me, and I grew up without knowing my mother. And you plunged me to the depth of despair when you told me I was on my own ‘with this one.’ Did you consider that I didn’t believe I should reject my grandfather’s proposal without discussing it with you? We’re engaged to be married—I thought from now on, we didn’t make independent decisions.”

  Roger chuckled, kissed her lightly on the lips and hugged her close again.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Not many men would turn down a chance to become a millionaire overnight. You’ve admitted that it won’t be easy for you to put two children through college and take on a new family besides. If you were willing to work for my grandfather, why should I say no for you?”

  He smoothed back her hair and kissed her fore
head. “I’ll admit that I was tempted for a while. My parents were poor, and my mother needs everything she has for her own livelihood—I will never inherit anything from her. What I have, I’ve worked for, and when the going has been rough, I’ve often wondered how it would be to never have to worry about where my next dollar would come from. But I’ve heard of Josiah Conley, and although I hadn’t connected him with you, he has the reputation of being a hard man—he wouldn’t give us everything he has without expecting a lot in return. I don’t believe we could have a happy marriage living in his household.”

  “Neither do I. That day I went to his house, I felt like a prisoner. He was determined that I was going to stay there, and I had to slip out of the house when he was busy elsewhere to even return to my hotel. I changed hotels, and he found me there, but I left Kansas City without returning his calls, for when I found out how he had manipulated my mother’s trial, I knew there was no place for him in my life. That’s why I telephoned you—I hoped you would come to me as you had when Mother died, go with me to tell my grandfather we were rejecting his offer, and drive home with me. I knew he wouldn’t accept my refusal if I didn’t have your support, but when you were so unapproachable, I wouldn’t insist.”

  Roger pulled her close. He kissed her closed eyelids, her throbbing throat, the tips of her ears, and each finger. When he came to her lips, the dull heartache that Violet had endured for the past few days disappeared, and she laced her arms behind his neck, cherishing the warmth and strength of his embrace. The agony of the past week receded, and his caresses brought assurance of a future that she was eager to start.

  “Let me promise you something now,” Roger whispered, his lips nuzzling the soft curve of her throat. “I’ll never forsake you again—no matter what you face, I’ll be there. Any decisions we make from now on, we’ll make them together. This vow is just as sacred to me as the one I’ll take on our wedding day when I promise to love you ‘until death do us part.’”

  When he ended their embrace, Violet said, “Then it seems we’ve agreed that we have no interest in accepting my grandfather’s proposal, but we have to make a decision on that documentary about my mother and father. And don’t tell me that I’m on ‘my own’ with it. It’s a sordid story, and we may not want our children to have to live with its aftermath if we make the facts widespread.”

  “I want to hear about what you learned from the lawyer, but if you haven’t had any food today, we must find a restaurant. I have snack food in this house, but nothing substantial. I’ll leave the truck here, and we can go in your car to a restaurant in a nearby town.”

  “I do feel hungry, but I don’t want to eat in Maitland.” She ran her fingers over her hair and touched her hot, swollen face. “I must look terrible.”

  Roger kissed the tip of her red, sniffy nose. “Not to me. You look wonderful, especially when I’ve been living with the fear that I’d lost you.”

  “I dread going back to school tomorrow, but I’ll have to make some preparations tonight, so after we’ve eaten, I’ll go home and work. Perhaps we can be together tomorrow night.”

  “I go on night shift in a few hours for a week, but I can see you early tomorrow evening.”

  On their way to the restaurant, Violet told Roger briefly about the death of Ryan Conley by her mother’s hand, and they agreed that in the interest of justice the facts of the trial should be aired on television.

  When the phone rang right before bedtime, Violet assumed it was Roger checking in to see how she felt, but to her surprise, Olivia Holland was on the phone.

  “I hoped that I would catch you at home,” Mrs. Holland said in the cultivated, honey tones she used when she wanted to be the most pleasing. “Larry said you were due back for school in the morning.”

  “Yes, I came home about noon today.”

  There was a pause, which Mrs. Holland finally broke. “I was pleased to learn that you are related to the Kansas City Conleys. I met your grandparents several years ago at a political rally in Saint Louis. I hope you will remember me to them the next time you see them.”

  Apparently Roger wasn’t the only Maitland resident to see her in the splendor of the Conley mansion.

  “My grandmother died a few years ago, and I doubt that I will be going there again. I went to Kansas City for another purpose, but my grandfather had asked to see me, so I did pay him a visit, but I had little in common with him, so we won’t be developing a filial relationship.”

  “But, Violet, if you’ll forgive me for advising you, if Josiah Conley wants to recognize you, it would be well for you to accept his patronage. He’s a big man in that region, and he could do much for you.”

  Yes, he could make me a prisoner to his will and plans, Violet thought, but she let Mrs. Holland ramble on.

  “I appreciate your concern, Mrs. Holland, but this is a matter I will have to work out with my grandfather.”

  Before Mrs. Holland terminated the conversation, Violet was half tempted to tell her that Josiah Conley would make her his heir if she would come to live with him, marry and have a family to carry on the family fortune. Mrs. Holland would probably rouse Larry out of his easy chair and send him over to propose immediately, but she resisted the temptation. Violet didn’t intend to circulate the fact that she’d had a multimillion-dollar legacy laid at her feet and that she was going to reject it.

  Monday was a hectic time for Violet. The first day back after a long break was always a difficult time to corral the students into working, but after three years of teaching, Violet expected that. What she did not expect was all the attention she received because of the reception she had attended at the Conley mansion in Kansas City. Everyone in Maitland must know by now about her connection to the Czar of the Midwest, as she had learned Josiah Conley was often called.

  She hadn’t been in her room ten minutes when Larry stopped in, all smiles. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she cringed at his touch.

  “It’s good to see you this morning, Violet. All ready for the avalanche of students?”

  She moved away from his embrace as she continued to place worksheets on the students’ desks. She glanced at the clock. “I’d better be ready in twenty minutes, but it’s always hard for me to be enthusiastic after a holiday and therefore it’s difficult to motivate the students.”

  “I would think that the terrific week you had would have given you lots of motivation. Why didn’t you tell me you were related to the Kansas City Conleys?”

  “I didn’t know it myself until two months ago. I told you that I didn’t know anything about my father’s people.” She stopped working long enough to give him a piercing glance.

  He was toying with a paperweight on her desk and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  “A few months ago I was convinced that my questionable heritage was vastly important to you.”

  The hall barriers had been removed, and students were entering the halls, laughing and shouting, happy to see their peers after the break. Larry started toward the door. “May I take you to dinner one night this week?”

  “No, thank you, Larry. I suppose you should know that Roger Gibson and I are engaged—we plan to be married in June.”

  He stopped abruptly. “Marry Roger Gibson? You told me he was nothing to you but a friend.”

  “Yes, and I was as surprised as you are to learn that, while he is my best friend, he’s also the man I love and want to marry.”

  “I suppose he knew that you are Josiah Conley’s granddaughter.”

  “As a matter of fact, he does know, but he asked me to marry him before he knew it. What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m suggesting nothing—just figure it out for yourself.”

  Angrily, Violet said, “Don’t judge other people’s actions by your own, Larry.”

  Violet lost count of how many pupils mentioned seeing her on television, and several of the girls made comments, such as, “Gee, it didn’t even look like you, Mis
s Conley, with all of those diamonds and that sleek dress. Did you enjoy that big party?”

  Misty sidled up to her and said quietly, with a touch of Roger’s humor, “I didn’t know my new mama was a society lady.”

  “She isn’t,” Violet replied. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You’ll have to put up with the same old Violet Conley you’ve always known.”

  With a slight grin, Misty said, “That suits me.”

  Before the closing bell rang, Violet rued the day she was born a Conley. When Nan came in after the closing bell, Violet said, “How fickle can people be? Where are our values? When my mother’s prison record became known, people turned against me. When they learn that I have a rich grandfather, although he is a scoundrel, and by some accounts, should be in prison, I’ve become the most popular person on the staff. Where are our values?” she repeated.

  “Face it! Generally speaking, people are materialistic, and we’re judged not by what we are, but by what we have.”

  “I don’t have any more now than I did six months ago, and never will inherit any of the Conley millions. The cost is too great.”

  Nan laughed. “When you come into a fortune, don’t forget who your true friends were when you were poor.”

  “Cut it out, Nan. I’ve had about all I can take today. I don’t enjoy being in the limelight.”

  “As I told you when there was such a furor over your mother, this will all die down when something else unusual happens to excite the populace. Maitland is a nice place to live, but it is a small town, and no one can have any secrets. If you lived in a large city, your debut into society would hardly have been noticed.”

  “I’m worried that all of this publicity might come between Roger and me.”

  They walked out of the school together, and Nan reassured, “You don’t have anything to worry about. Roger has a level head on his shoulders.”

  At home, she had two calls on her answering machine. One was from Josiah Conley’s secretary, which she erased without answering. The other was from Peter Pierce. He hadn’t wasted any time, she thought wryly.