Texas Rich

by Fern Michaels

Billie wanted to cry. It had been so long since anyone paid her a sincere compliment. For the first time since coming to Sunbridge, she felt worthy of being a Coleman. The feeling was fragile and tenuous and she would treasure it and hold it close. Almost like a secret that only she and Amelia knew.

  “I have an idea,” said Amelia one Sunday after breakfast. “Why don’t I read you the funny papers? What would you like, the Katzenjammer Kids or Tillie the Toiler?”

  Billie sighed. “Neither. I’m too distracted over the patterns and construction for the wool suit I designed for you. I keep wondering if, when Mrs. Parker finishes the basting, it will live up to the design. The proof will be in the pudding.”

  “Don’t worry, Billie. Mrs. Parker comes tomorrow for the first fitting and you’ll see for yourself. Let’s talk about something else. I don’t like to see you this agitated.”

  “All right,” Billie agreed, her mind refusing to leave her anxieties behind, struggling for something else to talk about. “How are things going downstairs with your father? Did you two make peace yet?”

  “Surely you jest. No, we’ve not made peace and we won’t, not in this lifetime, anyway. My father doesn’t like me. He’s never liked me and he’ll never like me. As for love, the only thing Seth ever loved or will love is Moss and his horse, Nessie. You have to accept that. I have. Now if you don’t want the funnies, how about one of Mam’s mysteries? I saw one that looked like it would curdle our blood. Okay?” She scrambled out of her chair and went in search of the book.

  Billie leaned back against the pillows and sighed. After the baby was born, Amelia and Rand would be leaving for England. Billie knew she was staying on at Sunbridge only out of concern for her; soon Amelia would need to return to face the inevitable lawsuit and her fight to legally adopt Rand. Billie would miss her, miss her terribly. Amelia cheered her up, bolstered her worries with a strength that seemed to know no bounds. She’d even fought with Seth for her—and won.

  After the doctor had ordered Billie to bed for the balance of her pregnancy, Seth had stormed about Sunbridge like a rooster with no hens in sight. One disappointment was enough: no way was he going to lose a second chance at a grandson. A white-clad, stiffly starched replica of Miss Jenkins showed up in Billie’s room.

  Amelia took command. “Don’t move,” she said to the nurse. “Don’t unpack and don’t do a thing for Billie until this is straightened out.” She turned to Billie. “I’m going to settle that old man, once and for all. He’s not going to get away with this—unless of course you want the nurse.” Amelia waited, holding her breath for Billie’s answer. It was a negative shake of the head. Billie would feel so helpless and smothered by routine. The nurse pursed her lips and Billie could almost read her mind. These rich people never knew what they wanted....

  Sounds of the verbal go-round wafted up the circular staircase. Billie tried to distract herself by working a crossword puzzle, not very successfully.

  “Don’t speak to me like I’m one of your riffraff friends,” Seth thundered at his daughter.

  “Friend? Friend! You’ve never been a father to me, so how could you be a friend, riffraff or otherwise? And don’t think you’re going to throw me off the subject. If you want to talk about the relationship we never had, fine, but some other time. I want to talk about Billie. The doctor himself said she didn’t need a nurse, that I could take care of her. I intend to do just that—did you hear me, Pap? I’m taking care of her. I already wrote Moss about it and so did Billie. Don’t interfere. Because if you do, I’ll snatch Billie right out of here. Chew on that one for a while. Now you get that goddamn nurse out of here and don’t you ever pull something like that again. Not while I’m here. And just for the record, I’m staying until Billie delivers and is on her feet. Do we understand each another, Pap?”

  “You always were a cantankerous little bitch,” Seth snarled. “Your mam coddled you too much. I knew it would come to no good. Why couldn’t you turn out like Moss? Jesus God, the things I’ve had to live with!”

  “That’s not the way I remember it, Pap. Every time Mam tried to coddle me, you slapped her away. You never approved of anything I did—my school work, my athletic ability, my friends, my driving, my music. You didn’t approve of me at birth, so why I ever expected more is beyond me. But I kept hoping, trying to be what you wanted. Mam tried in her own way to tell me, but I never understood. I’m a female, and with you that counts for nothing. Not Mam, not me, not Billie, either. That little baby lying upstairs—is she going to have to pay the price the way I did? And this new baby, what will you do if it’s a girl? Ignore it, too? And your son, the one who is so perfect, is he going to learn from you? Is he going to do to Billie what you did to Mam? God help us all.”

  “That’s enough, Amelia.”

  “It’s not nearly enough. It will never be enough. I won’t let you take over Billie’s life. Not while I’m here I won’t.”

  Amelia’s voice had risen to a high-pitched shriek. Billie imagined Seth backing off a step and Amelia advancing on him. “I’m young, I’m healthy,” Amelia went on. “I’ve got guts and I have grit, not to mention spunk. You’re an old man. You lost your wife, the only friend you ever had. You’re going to dodder soon. Moss is gone. All you have left is your horse and Billie. The odds are a little more even now, Pap. Stacked in my favor, if you will.”

  “Get out of my sight! I couldn’t stand looking at you the day you were born and I still can’t stand the sight of you. If there’s anything to be thankful for, it’s that your mother isn’t here to see how you turned out. She’s probably turning over in her grave right now.”

  “You don’t know and you never knew a thing about Mam. Don’t bring her into this.” There was a second’s pause and then Amelia said, “If you think Mam didn’t know about your carousing and those tramps you picked up in the city, you’re wrong. She knew. She knew and she didn’t care. I heard her praying one day. She actually prayed you would continue so you would leave her alone. What do you think of that, Pap?”

  “You should have been drowned the day you were born. Get out of my sight.”

  The hatred in Seth’s voice stayed in the air, drifted through the house. Then, Amelia’s voice finally broke the silence, cool but threatening.

  “Tell the nurse to leave. Now.”

  “If that’s what it takes for you to leave my sight, all right. Send her down.”

  “Fetch her yourself. You hired her, now you can fire her.”

  “No-good tramp,” Seth muttered as he made his way up the stairway.

  Amelia told Billie what had happened next. The minute Seth was out of sight, she’d run to the kitchen and into Tita’s arms. “My God, did you hear the things I just said? Was I wrong, Tita? Would Mam have been angry?”

  “Your mother loved you very much. At the end, you were all she talked about.” Tita had patted Amelia reassuringly. “You take this tea up to Miss Billie. The two of you can have a tea party, like you used to do when you were little. See how nice I fixed the tray? The cinnamon rolls are fresh, look.”

  It was a wonderful tea party. Their guests were Maggie, in her high chair, Rand, and Rand’s little toy cat, Sally Dearest. No one paid any attention when he fed half his roll to Sally. As if by mutual consent, both women had pretended the sharp words with Amelia’s father had never happened. But Billie would be a long time forgetting the murderous look in Seth’s eyes when he’d arrived in her room to escort the nurse downstairs and back to town. And whenever she thought of that awful scene, she ached for Amelia. Moss had never told her those things. Did he understand how deeply Amelia had been hurt all the time they were growing up together? He loved his sister—that much she knew—and Amelia adored Moss.

  Susan Amelia Coleman was born on a rainy day in February, almost exactly one year after Maggie’s birth. Things happened suddenly, too quickly for Billie to be transported to Memorial Hospital in Austin. Tita and Amelia acted as midwives. Agnes sat near the head of the bed holding Billie’s ha
nd and wiping her brow, waiting for the arrival of the child who would secure their place at Sunbridge. When the child presented herself and her sex was declared, Agnes quietly left the room to solemnly announce the birth to Seth, who paced the upstairs hall. The instant he knew he had a second granddaughter, he stomped downstairs, threw on a cracked yellow poncho, and left the house, his face more thunderous than the storm outside.

  Amelia was the first to hold the tiny infant. Exhausted, Billie lay back on the bed and watched the woman she’d come to love as a sister gaze down at her newborn daughter. The softness of Amelia’s touch as she fingered the light damp curls brought tears to Billie’s eyes. Amelia should be holding her own child, a child that could never be.

  Dr. Ward arrived thirty-five minutes after the birth, examined mother and baby, and pronounced both healthy. Billie beamed. Doctors didn’t know everything after all.

  Amelia wept with joy when Billie asked her to be Susan’s godmother. “I already love her as though she were my own,” Amelia sobbed. “Thank you, Billie.”

  Seth managed to absent himself from Susan’s christening, saying he had business in Corpus Christi.

  When Moss received the news of Susan’s birth he let out a whoop and threw his arms around Thad. “Son of a gun, it’s another girl! Billie named her after my sister. What do you think of that?”

  “I think it’s great. What do you think?” Thad said quietly.

  Moss frowned. “For sure I thought it would be a boy. I think everyone did. But as long as Susy is healthy, that’s what counts. My sister is going to be the godmother—I like that. Did I tell you the doctor put Billie in bed for the last three months? Amelia took care of her all by herself. Billie says she was waited on hand and foot, and doesn’t know what she would have done without her. That’s my sister. We Colemans always come through in the end. Amelia’s a great person.”

  “You didn’t tell me Billie was having trouble.” Thad’s tone was accusing. “Three months is a long time to spend in bed. Billie isn’t the invalid type.”

  “I know. It must have been rough on her. I could have sworn I told you, but I guess I had other things on my mind. Billie is okay and that’s all that matters. Maggie is crawling around. Christ, I can hardly believe it!”

  “It went all right with Billie this time, but if it happens again, she might not be so lucky. Just remember that you’re responsible for Billie. You, Coleman, no one else.”

  Moss watched his friend walk away. Jesus, what was that all about? Well, with Thad in a snit over something there would be no gin rummy tonight. Good time to write to Billie.

  In his quarters, Moss got out paper and pen. He hated writing letters. Except to Pap, but that was different. Pap was a man and they had things in common. Things that interested them both.

  Darling Billie,

  I just received the news about our newest daughter. Congratulations, honey! I’m pleased as punch that both you and Susan are fine. I was a little worried when you said you had to stay in bed. It’s a good thing Amelia was there to care for you. Thank her for me. I knew you would like my sister. She’s aces with me. Don’t tell her I said that—her head is big enough.

  I think of Mam often. It’s wonderful of you to have Amelia take fresh flowers to the cemetery every day. I’ll do it myself when I get back.

  Tell Pap I have four more meatballs to my credit. He’ll like knowing that.

  Thad was just here and I told him about Susan. He said to congratulate you. He’s such a hell of a nice guy. He sure was impressed with you. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. He told that to one of the other guys, not to me. But I knew it.

  I miss you, Billie. I think of our time in Hawaii. It was memorable. When you write to me again, send pictures of the girls.

  Love, Moss

  Billie’s strength returned only slowly, much to her dismay. Frequent naps, good food, plenty of fresh air and sunshine, were the cure-alls, Amelia said. Billie obeyed and spent her recuperation waiting for the mailman and writing long, detailed letters to Moss.

  When Susan was four months old, Amelia announced that is was time for her to leave. Her solicitor had prepared the case and she had to take Rand back home. Both young women clung to each other and cried. “I understand, Amelia. I’ll always be grateful to you for what you’ve done for me.”

  “I’m going to miss you, you damn Yankee. And I’m going to miss that little tyke in the nursery. Promise that you’ll send pictures every month. I want to see her grow. Don’t miss even one month. Promise now.”

  “I promise. Oh, Amelia, what will I do without you? I’ve come to depend on you too much.”

  “It’s time you took over the reins. The doctor says you’re back to normal—I wouldn’t leave if I had a moment’s doubt. It’s time, Billie. Pap is going to heave a sigh of relief when I’m gone. I really think I’ve outstayed my welcome, if you could call it that! Be sure to write Moss and tell him I love him and to take care of himself. You’re a wonderful person, Billie, and don’t you ever let anyone say different.”

  Two days later Amelia was gone. Billie and Tita saw her off in the huge Packard. Rand clutched Sally Dearest in one chubby hand and waved good-bye with the other, his face full of smiles.

  “I don’t know why your father isn’t here, Amelia,” said Billie. “Something must have happened.”

  Amelia’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Darling Billie, the eternal optimist. If you ever discover the real reason, let me know. Meantime, I won’t hold my breath. Kiss Susan again for me. I miss her already and I’m not even out of the drive.”

  “I’ll do that. Take care, Amelia, and be certain to write. I hope things work out with Geoff’s family. Keep your chin up—after all, your lawyers seem quite optimistic.”

  “Yes, I know. But oh, if only Rand hadn’t inherited his father’s title, we’d be able to stay here.”

  “I wish they’d agreed to wait until it’s safe to return there. I’m so frightened when I hear of the bombings. Those damn Germans ...”

  “Shhh. We’ll be all right, Billie, I promise you. After all, I’ve got little Susan to come back to, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Take care of her, Billie, and take care of yourself.” She gave Billie one last hug.

  “And you take care of yourself and Rand. You’re going to have one hell of a time getting back to England. Keep in touch.”

  “Don’t worry, really. The Nelsons want Rand back. With them pulling the strings, getting back into England will be a piece of cake. I promise.”

  “Good-bye, Rand, be sure to take good care of Mommy for me, won’t you?” Billie said. “Good-bye, Sally Dearest.” She gave the cat a pat on the head.

  The little boy nodded solemnly. “I’m almost four, Aunt Billie. I’ll take care of us both.”

  Blinded with tears, Billie raced back to the house as soon as the Packard rounded the curve of the drive. She picked Susan up from her crib and kissed the downy head, as she’d promised Amelia. Tears of loneliness and loss streamed down her cheeks. The infant in her arms brought no comfort. Amelia, in the few months since Susan’s birth, had been more of a mother than she. Billie hugged Susan closer and waited for the rush of maternal warmth to seize her. Susan’s protests shrilled through the nursery.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Thad Kingsley leaned into the Enterprise sick bay. Moss was sleeping quietly in the right-hand bunk. The shelf over his bed held the portrait of Billie holding Maggie and little Susan. It was a familiar sight, yet it always came as a shock to Thad that Billie was the mother of two children. She was hardly past girlhood herself. It was November; soon Maggie would be two years old and blond-haired Susan would have passed her first birthday. It was unbelievable that a year and a half had passed since he’d seen Billie in Hawaii. Unbelievable that he’d never stopped thinking about her since.

  The Enterprise fighter squadrons had been involved in night raids on the Philippines. It was after one of those raids that Moss had not
returned to the carrier with his group. Radio contact with the “Texas Ranger” had been lost. Thad hadstood with the warrant officer on the captain’s lookout, peering through binoculars in the murky early-morning sky. He’d thought about the letter he might have to write to Billie and felt physically sick.

  Scanning, watching, listening for one of the Big E’s own. Finally: “Aircraft sighted, sir,” the warrant officer had relayed to the captain. “Thirty degrees off bow, one o’clock. Stand by for identification.” After a moment: “Identification positive, sir. Wildcat, listing to starboard. She’s ours, sir. She’s ours!”

  Then a shout from Moss’s squadron—the Texas Ranger was in sight! Flying like a wounded bird, it had made a less than perfect landing, but no man had faulted him for that. Moss has been rushed to sick bay and emergency surgery. He had taken shrapnel deep into the flesh and bone of his shoulder. Lacerations of face and neck, chipped collarbone and tissue damage. There was suspected nerve damage, which would be evaluated in San Diego.

  Later, word was that when Moss had come to from the anesthesia, the first thing he’d said was “How’s the Texas Ranger?”

  Thad laughed to himself over his friend’s concern for his plane. He loved this guy like a brother. Not that he approved of everything Moss did, but the pluses far outnumbered the minuses. With everything Moss had, with Billie and two beautiful daughters, with the backdrop of Sunbridge and all the wealth, it still wasn’t enough for Moss. He was a bastard, bigger than life in all he did and all he was; so big that nothing less than a war was enough for him.

  Thad decided against waking him and was just turning to leave when he heard a hoarse croak. “Thad?”

  “Hey, buddy, you’re awake. I’ve been here a couple of times but you looked like Sleeping Beauty. How do you feel?”