Private Sins

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Private Sins Page 8

by Gwen Moffat


  ‘— you could see the Colorado plateau,’ Sophie completed drily, placing a bottle, a shot glass and a tiny crystal jug of water in front of him.

  ‘How are they taking it?’ The sudden switch made him sound aggressive.

  Sophie sat down and focused on Miss Pink’s glass. ‘Val is — contained, I’d guess you’d say’ — raising her eyebrows — ‘Clyde was upset, but then he shows his emotions more than her and — well, she talked to him, you know?’

  ‘It was an appalling shock for him. I mean, Charlie was his father after all.’

  The women stared. He stared back, as if mesmerised. ‘What I’m saying’, he went on haltingly, ‘is that when he heard Charlie was missing, he was very concerned. As anyone would be in the circumstances. Charlie is — was — an old man and Clyde said that horse is wild. He was worried that… What happened exactly?’

  Sophie sipped her bourbon. ‘He was thrown but his foot caught in the stirrup and he was dragged… It’s not a common accident, Russell, but it’s the sort of thing could happen to an old person, particularly with a nervous horse.’

  ‘Poor Clyde. And Val — all of you. Terrible: finding the body.’

  ‘How did you know?’ Miss Pink asked.

  ‘Clyde called me from Glenaffric. He didn’t say much, I guess Edna was close by. No details — except Charlie was thrown from his horse, not even when it happened.’ He wasn’t asking a question but his eyes were.

  ‘We hadn’t really thought about that,’ Sophie said. ‘We all saw the pack-horse ready to go around noon, so it must have happened yesterday morning.’ She frowned, her eyes met Miss Pink’s and sheered away.

  He left soon afterwards. ‘Dear me,’ Sophie said, closing the door behind him. ‘He’s very fond of Clyde.’ She started to help Miss Pink who was clearing the coffee table. ‘He had to make sure there was no way Clyde could be involved,’ she went on. ‘Silly boy.’

  Miss Pink murmured noncommittally. It was uncertain which ‘boy’ was meant: Clyde or Russell. She hesitated, but it had to be said. ‘There’s no way it could have been anything other than an accident.’

  Sophie gasped. ‘Of course it was an accident! What can you be thinking?’

  ‘Not me. The police. There’s no need to protect people: Russell trying to make sure Clyde isn’t involved — your words. And not mentioning Jen’s call to Charlie, or their meeting… It looks suspicious —’

  ‘No way is there anything suspicious! Clyde was miles away, Jen was nowhere near the cabin. There’s nothing to be suspicious about.’

  ‘I meant that your not wanting to mention those facts looks suspicious in itself.’

  ‘The reason why we’re keeping quiet about Jen’s phone call is that we’re not going to have our family business gossiped about all over the county. Once the sheriff knows, he’ll ask why Jen had to go to hunting camp in secret, why couldn’t she meet her family in the open, instead of in the back country, and her grandfather on his own at that? He’ll want to know what’s wrong with this family. You agreed you wouldn’t mention it, Melinda.’ She was pleading now.

  ‘How are you going to silence Ryan? If Jen’s with him then he knows about the arrangement to meet Charlie, and he’s not bound by family loyalty.’

  ‘We can work on him. I tell you, no one need know that she made that phone call. Edna can be persuaded to forget it. You do that too, Melinda. You said yourself: it had to be an accident.’

  7

  A night’s rest and the security of a corral had revived the stallion. When Sophie pulled up outside Val’s cabin he was still favouring one leg but his head was up and he’d watched the Cherokee’s approach with interest.

  ‘Doesn’t he look good?’ came Val’s voice as she opened the screen door. ‘The veterinarian was here and Ali stood like a lamb while he was being examined. Isn’t that something? I tell you, this is a different horse.’

  ‘There’s no serious damage?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘Not physically. Just a sprain. ‘Fact, he’s more tractable now than he was before. Mind you, it could be a different story when we get up on him again.’

  Sophie was disapproving. ‘There’s no need to ride him, Val, even if we do keep him. I don’t know that I want to anyway. For heaven’s sakes, who gets Ali? I have no idea.’ They stared at each other.

  Miss Pink marvelled how they could focus on trivial concerns when the previous owner had been virtually kicked to death by the animal. Her eyes strayed to the hoofs. No sign of blood there.

  ‘Who’s this?’ Sophie asked. A pick-up and trailer were coming along the track, slowing for the entrance to the homestead.

  ‘That trailer was at Benefit,’ Miss Pink said. If this were Bret Ryan, Jen could be with him, which would explain the wary stance of the others. She was pleased, happy for them, then she tensed in her turn. It was Ryan and he was alone.

  He parked with care, turning in the space between cabin and corral. The women hadn’t moved. He walked towards them, stiff in the face of their united attention. ‘Hi, Bret,’ Val said, rather too loudly. She indicated the stallion. ‘No harm done. The veterinarian says the leg’s just a sprain.’

  He nodded and regarded the horse without expression. Sophie was frowning at the trailer. No horse was visible through the slats. Val said neutrally, ‘You’ll stay for coffee, Bret?’

  ‘I just come for the stud,’ he said.

  The women were immobile. A yellow butterfly flickered past the group, the horse lowered his head and plucked at a weed. ‘We’re not with you,’ Sophie said.

  He inhaled sharply and looked towards the creek. He said distantly, ‘Charlie left the stud to Jen. She wants him there.’ He swallowed. ‘At Benefit.’

  Val’s eyes widened and she started to shake. Sophie moved in front of her and said, not unpleasantly, ‘If Jen has business with her family, Bret, she must come herself and discuss it. There’s no way family property can be distributed like this, and so soon. You have no authority.’

  ‘I do. She’s my wife.’

  Someone gasped. He went on hurriedly, ‘She needs time to — to think things through. She just lost her grand-daddy’ — he flicked a hostile glance at Val — ‘so she’s asked me to pick up the stud. He’s valuable. She wants the care of him.’

  ‘He’s not hers yet.’ Sophie was harsh but then her tone changed. ‘Is that right: you two are married? When did this happen?’

  ‘A few weeks since.’ He looked sulky now: a long beanpole of a fellow, embarrassed in the presence of older women, two of whom were now his in-laws, if he was to be believed.

  ‘Where did you marry?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘In Billings.’ He returned her stare. ‘I have the licence back home.’

  ‘It doesn’t make any difference.’ Val was listless, as if she were past emotion. ‘But she can’t have the stud. It stays here.’

  ‘He’s hers!’ His voice rose.

  ‘No, he isn’t,’ Sophie said coldly. ‘The will hasn’t been read and it has to be probated. You can’t know the conditions.’

  ‘She does. He told her. Charlie did.’

  ‘My father was a liar,’ Val said, without heat. ‘He may have told her he’d left the stud to her and anything else he cared to name. That doesn’t mean it’s true.’

  ‘Her dad says it’s true.’

  ‘Oh, my God! You’re telling us she’s seen her dad? He’s always —’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Sophie put in quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter who says what. This horse is staying here until the will’s probated. Not just because it’s a valuable animal, the same would apply if it were a dude horse. We have to observe the rules, Bret. You go back and tell Jen that. At the same time, since you’re now family, you might suggest that it would have been more courteous for her to come here in person instead of sending a messenger, even if you are married to her.’

  Miss Pink moved away, acutely embarrassed. Sophie was hard on the man but it was justified. He must have known he was out of order. The
situation was awkward, fraught with difficulties.

  Behind her, the pick-up started and moved slowly down the drive; his frustration wasn’t apparent in his driving.

  ‘It’s monstrous!’ Val exploded. ‘I can’t believe it of Sam.’

  ‘Sam didn’t send him,’ Sophie pointed out.

  ‘But they’ve been in touch! He’s saying he has no idea where she is.’ Val whirled on Miss Pink. ‘You rode home with him yesterday; did he tell you he’d seen Jen?’

  ‘No. He did say he’d wondered if she could be holed up with Ryan.’

  ‘I’ll kill the bastard!’

  She strode towards the cabin. Sophie shook her head and sighed. ‘What must you be thinking of us all?’

  ‘Apart from his ignorance of business etiquette, Ryan doesn’t seem a bad fellow,’ Miss Pink said comfortably. ‘He could make a good husband — and Jen has come back — almost.’

  ‘Huh! “Almost” is the operative word. Now this problem’ — she gestured angrily at the stallion — ‘could take us right back to square one.’

  ‘It’ll blow over. It’s only a horse.’

  ‘Only! That horse is worth thousands.’

  ‘Even then it’s not so important as the other problem: the one that drove Jen away originally.’

  ‘But she came back — to Sam,’ Sophie muttered. ‘That’s hit Val hard. She thought Sam was her friend. He’s played her a shabby trick.’ They could hear Val’s voice raised inside the cabin. ‘I wonder how he’ll explain himself,’ she said.

  They turned to contemplate the stallion. After a while the screen door crashed open. ‘He denies it!’ Val shouted. ‘He swears it isn’t true! Who’s lying around here? I’m going to Benefit and find Jen —’

  ‘No, Val!’ Sophie hurried after her as she made for her pick-up. Miss Pink leaned against the rails, an uneasy spectator, but not for long. After a few minutes during which Ali walked over to have his head scratched, the others approached. ‘I’m going to Benefit,’ Sophie told her, while Val looked mutinous. ‘Val insists someone must go to Jen, her being so near, and if I don’t, she will, and I think Jen is more likely to talk to me at this moment. The business about the horse gives us a handle — although why I should need an excuse to talk to my own kin I don’t know. But it may work. D’you mind?’

  Miss Pink was startled. ‘No, no. I can amuse myself —’

  ‘I mean, d’you mind coming with me?’

  ‘Of — course not. Er — why?’

  ‘I’m trusting your presence will keep things on an even keel.’ Sophie peered at her doubtfully. ‘Is it a presumption? I’m afraid things aren’t exactly normal today. As you may have noticed.’

  ‘I’ll do what I can to help. Let’s go. Might it be an idea to overtake Bret before he has a chance to phone her?’

  ‘I’m going after Sam,’ Val said grimly.

  ‘No, you’re not.’ Sophie was firm. ‘There’s enough trouble around here without you going and making more with Sam. Besides,’ she added slyly, ‘someone needs to be here with Ali. Bret could come back and for all we know, Charlie changed his will and the horse is to come to you.’

  Val looked at the stallion. ‘You could be right. OK, I’ll leave it to you — for the time being.’ Implying that if anything went wrong at Benefit she would take over. Charlie’s death was having wide repercussions.

  *

  As they drove down the Ballard road, Miss Pink said, ‘Would it be possible to find out exactly who the horses were left to? You might cite the difficulty of making decisions regarding Ali’s treatment: make his condition sound worse than it is. The lawyer who drew up the will mightn’t know much about horses.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking. I wonder if Edna has a copy of the will. I wouldn’t say so in front of Bret. You know, I can’t believe those two are married, can you?’

  ‘I’m the outsider here. But why not? From what you’ve said, Jen’s impulsive and he’d hardly say he had a marriage certificate if it’s not true.’

  ‘She’s unpredictable, certainly. Volatile is how I’d describe Jen. She takes after her mother there. I don’t know how I’m going to handle this meeting, but you may be sure that if it were Val had gone rushing over there, the state she’s in, there’d be more than sparks flying, there’d be a conflagration. Jen’s treating her mother like a neighbour who’s cheated on her: trying to hang on to property that’s rightfully hers.’ Her tone hardened. ‘And she won’t face her mother, has to send someone else. I’ll be interested to hear what this young lady’s got to say about that. She’s behaving outrageously.’

  ‘Ryan’s picked up speed.’ Miss Pink was peering ahead. ‘He’s going to reach Benefit before us.’

  ‘Not in that old truck; we’ll overtake him on the highway.’

  They came to the main road, skirted the southern fringe of Ballard and sped towards Irving. Down on their right the Thunder river belied its name, spread in braids between flats where weeds and willows formed a low jungle. The road was clear ahead and there was no sign of the trailer. ‘He’ll have stopped off at Ballard,’ Sophie declared. ‘So Jen won’t be expecting us, long as he doesn’t phone her.’

  ‘Meaning she’d run if she knew you were coming?’

  ‘Well, she’s keeping clear, isn’t she? Married for some weeks, he said.’ She was bitterly resentful about that.

  ‘Why should she be frightened of the family?’

  ‘Frightened? She has no reason to be.’ Sophie considered this. ‘You’re suggesting she’s frightened of her mother?’

  ‘Things point that way.’

  They slowed for the turning to Benefit and slowed again where the tarmac ended. When Sophie resumed the conversation it was as if she were talking to herself. ‘The truth is we’re all scared of each other — except right now Val is furious, but before… She told me she doesn’t know how to meet her own daughter, what to say. There’s so much between them that’s just blank: unknown territory. Val doesn’t know where she stands. That’s what makes her angry; she’s so confused.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘Everything’s so unpredictable. That’s why I asked you to come along. The truth is I’m scared too. Like I said, you’re — you’re —’

  ‘The plug in the volcano?’

  ‘OK, I’m dramatising. Forget everything, we’ll play it by ear. We’re paying a call on my great-niece, is all.’

  The little hills basked in the sunshine, deceptively smooth, sprinkled with juniper, a gentle world in contrast to the snow peaks in the background. Scattered ruins showed beyond a swelling in the grassy downs and they came round a curve to Benefit, trailing dust up its street to halt outside Ryan’s cabin.

  A woman stood in the doorway shielding her eyes. She was small and slim but with broad shoulders. Her eyes slanted a little and the eyebrows were like wings. Her hair was a rich brown, the colour of ripe chestnuts. ‘She’s lovely,’ Miss Pink whispered, coming round the Cherokee to join Sophie.

  ‘And she’s not running,’ Sophie whispered back.

  She came through the marigolds, smiling. ‘Aunt Sophie! Isn’t this neat?’

  They hugged, Sophie’s eyes wide with astonishment. Miss Pink looked on benignly.

  There were introductions. Jen acknowledged them politely, then turned back to Sophie with a look of inquiry. Sophie glanced at the cabin but left the suggestion of hospitality to her great-niece, who refused to pick up the cue. Her smile was fading. Appreciating that the welcome was over, that someone had to get down to business, Sophie said, ‘Is it true you’re married?’

  ‘You’ve been talking to Bret. Yes, we’re married.’

  ‘Edna’ — Sophie cleared her throat and started again — ‘I’m disappointed. I would have liked to come to your wedding.’

  Jen gave the faintest shrug.

  ‘Edna too,’ Sophie ploughed on, and then — desperately — ‘not to speak of your mother.’

  ‘She can go to hell,’ Jen said.

  Soph
ie gasped. Beaten, she appealed mutely to Miss Pink who, plunged into a weird fantasy land, all etiquette blown to the winds, said, reasonably enough, ‘What can a person’s mother have done that’s bad enough for that?’

  ‘Ask her,’ Jen said. She addressed Sophie again. ‘That is, if she’ll tell you.’ Her face crumpled like a child’s. ‘I’ll tell you what she did: she ruined my life — for ever — you know that?’

  ‘No!’ Sophie cried. ‘There’s something terribly wrong here —’

  ‘Isn’t this Sam?’ Miss Pink broke in urgently. ‘How about letting him — asking him —’ She broke off, at a loss.

  A pick-up skidded to a halt in a swirl of dust. Sam Jardine jumped down and strode towards them. Miss Pink and Sophie turned to him as if to a saviour, which he might have been but for the fact that when they looked back Jen had disappeared.

  Sophie swore. ‘Things were getting out of hand, Sam. Go in and talk some sense into her, for God’s sake. She’s saying Val ruined her life.’

  Sam’s genial face showed surprise, but not shock. However, he wasted no time asking for details but made for the cabin. He opened the screen door, called out and entered. Sophie turned away, sniffing angrily.

  ‘Whatever’s got into her? Ruined her life? Val can go to hell? What does the girl mean?’

  ‘Come and stand in the shade.’ Miss Pink was soothing. ‘Let her father deal with it. This could be what’s needed to clear the air: a confrontation.’

  Sam came out of the cabin, glancing left and right, bewildered. ‘Which way’d she go?’ he shouted.

  Miss Pink looked towards the hills. ‘She must have gone out the back,’ she called. ‘She could have taken a horse.’

  There was no point in going after her on foot, she had a head start. They stood in the shade of the cottonwoods and Sophie filled Sam in on that heated exchange. After a while Miss Pink saw a pale form working through the junipers on a distant slope.

  ‘You’ve been seeing her all along!’ Sophie cried.

  ‘I told Val. I’ve not seen Jen for ten years.’

  ‘You came straight here.’

  ‘Because Val said she was here and married to Bret. He never said nothing yesterday. I was riding with the guy! Why, he’s coming to work for me but he never give me a hint he was married to her. I guess he’d have gotten around to it.’

 

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