“But you learned to love Evan anyway, didn’t you?”
Shane raked an impatient hand through his hair again. “Of course I did. That’s never been an issue.”
“But if you love someone as my uncle loved your mother, don’t you always try to get that person back?” she asked, thinking of the twisted man Luke had become because of his love for Shane’s mother.
Shane’s face hardened. “She was already married, she’d made her choice.”
“And maybe Luke couldn’t live with that choice. He never married. It’s apparent he always loved your mother. Not that I’m saying what happened was right, but she thought your father was dead. Love changes the rules.”
Shane glanced away, clinging stubbornly to the outraged beliefs he’d held since he was fourteen years old. “Not all the rules.”
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Did your father know?”
Shane passed a hand over his face. “Evan was born a little more than eight months after he returned. I think he always suspected, but he never knew for sure. After my mother died and the drought came, Luke held the water rights over my father’s head like an ax waiting to fall. Pa watched his friends and neighbors suffer and die, and then he gave in and deeded part of the Lazy H to your uncle. And gave up. He couldn’t live with the knowledge that Luke had bested him again. It wasn’t long after that he died.”
“But Luke had to hurt, too, don’t you see? He’d been denied not only the love of your mother, but his own son, too. That must have ripped him into tiny shreds every moment of his life.”
Shane’s face remained closed. “He wasn’t alone then, was he?”
“They were a man and a woman just like you and me, can’t you see that?”
He looked at her regretfully. “No, not like you and me.”
Her tears flowed as she realized how much this man meant to her. It had been difficult to see beyond just his strength. But now she saw what lay beneath the complicated layers of his soul. She accepted the strength the way she’d desired the sensitivity, knowing he was a complex mixture of both.
Cassie watched him struggle against his feelings, but even while denying her words he pulled her into a crushing embrace. She accepted this as she accepted his words. Even as his lips ground against hers in a desperate effort to erase the past, she wondered if the hate Shane had carried for her uncle since he was a boy had finally pushed him to the brink. Was the man whose arms promised her heaven in fact her uncle’s killer?
Resolutely, she closed her eyes to the possibility as he scooped her up in his arms. If that was the truth she’d been seeking, she wanted this night to remember, for the future would be a cold companion.
41
Shane knocked tentatively at Evan’s bedroom door. Not getting an answer, he cautiously pulled it open. Evan didn’t acknowledge his presence. Striding to the chifforobe, Evan pulled the clothes from it, stuffing them unceremoniously into the bag that lay open on his bed. Shane took in the scene, swallowing as he did so.
“You change your mind about law school?”
Not getting an answer, Shane wandered over to the dresser. He picked up the daguerreotype picture of their mother. Studying her likeness, he wondered suddenly which parent he was disappointing.
Replacing the picture, he turned again to Evan, noticing that he hadn’t yet packed his suits.
“You’re planning to go back East, I take it?”
“What difference does it make? You got what you wanted.”
“Of course it makes a difference. I want—”
“I don’t care anymore what you want, big brother. It’s time I started watching out for me.”
The irony of his words struck Shane like a blow.
“I know you won’t believe me, but that’s what I’ve been doing all your life.”
Evan paused for a moment, but then he started packing again. “You have a hell of a way of showing it.”
“Maybe you’re right. I seem to have a hell of a way of showing a lot of things.”
Evan threw down the pile of clothes, not caring that they landed in a heap. “Why’d you do it, Shane?”
Shane shrugged, unable to tell him the truth, unable to live with the lies of the past.
“Will you stay for a while, boy?”
Evan flung the bag across the room, where it landed against his dresser. “I’ll stay until it’s time for school to start. But that’s all. And don’t expect it ever to be the same, Shane, because it won’t be.”
Shane watched Evan continue to ravage the clothes in the chifforobe and then walked over to the dresser, picking up the picture of their mother that Evan’s bag had knocked to the floor. It won’t ever be the same. The words mocked him as they had so many years ago.
Slowly Shane sat down on the edge of the bed, remembering in despair the first time he’d heard those words replayed in his head, like a bad dream he couldn’t shake. He’d been fourteen when he’d heard the words that changed his life forever.
“It won’t ever be the same, Luke. ”
“Rose, we have to talk about this. ”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Luke. It was a mistake. A dreadful mistake. I thought John was dead. I was scared and lonely. ”
“I’ve always loved you, Rose, even when you picked him over me. I’ve never stopped loving you. ”
“Luke, it’s over. It won’t ever happen again. ”
“But the boy—Evan. ”
“As far as I’m concerned, Evan is John’s. And nothing you can say will ever change that. John is my husband, and he’ll always believe that Evan’s his. ”
“Do you expect me to walk away from my own son?”
“If you love me like you say you do, you’ll leave and forget what was between us. ”
The silence stretched between them. Fourteen-year-old Shane swallowed the tears in his throat and the hurt slicing his heart as he listened to his mother and Luke Dalton from the hayloft.
“I’ll leave, Rose, because I love you. But don’t expect me to forget. I’ll never forget. ”
And Shane had never forgotten, either. He could never see his mother again without picturing her in Luke Dalton’s arms. And when she died, he cried not only because she was gone, but because she had been lost to him since that day.
After her death, and the drought had come, Luke Dalton held the water rights over his father’s head, forcing him to sign over a portion of the Lazy H rather than see his neighbors starve and die. But by the time the paper was signed, the damage was done.
And Shane knew. He knew why Luke Dalton had forced his father to lose that showdown. Because of his mother, the woman both men had loved. Deep down, Shane felt that his father knew too. His deathbed request convinced Shane that his father knew—perhaps even about Evan—because he’d made Shane promise to get back that part of the Lazy H from Luke Dalton and to make sure no other Dalton ever laid claim to another acre.
Shane passed a weary hand over his face. The time had come for him to tell Evan the truth, the truth he was afraid would rip them apart. Glancing up, he saw that Evan had stopped his frantic packing and was staring aimlessly out the window at the gathering storm clouds.
“Evan, what I have to tell you…” Shane paused, not knowing how to continue. It was so damnably hard to shatter someone’s life, violate his past, rob him of his parentage.
“What is it, Shane? I don’t imagine anything’s worse than what I already saw tonight.”
Looking into Evan’s wounded eyes, Shane knew this hurt would be deeper, more lasting, and infinitely more difficult to impart. Shane glanced away, cursing his mother and Luke Dalton. “But there is, little brother.” His voice almost broke on that last word. After tonight Evan would know they were only half brothers, not that Shane could have ever loved him more. Shane bent his head, intently studying the intricate pattern on the rug that covered the gleaming wooden floor.
It seemed he now had Evan’s attention. “What are you trying to get at?” E
van’s earlier belligerence was toned down but still evident in his voice.
“It has to do with what happened tonight.”
Evan turned back to the bag resting on the bed. “I don’t think there’s anything else I need to know about tonight.”
Shane momentarily rested his head against steepled fingers, wishing he didn’t have to go through with telling him, dreading Evan’s reaction. “I’m afraid there is, Evan.” Shane raised his head, then abruptly rose and walked over to the window, wishing he could escape into the overcast night, escape what he had dreaded having happen for as long as he could remember.
“Well, what is it?” Evan’s voice was impatient, unconcerned.
“It’s about Cassie.” The words were drawn out of Shane as was Excalibur from its stone sheath.
“You want to tell me how good it is between you two, big brother? Don’t bother—I saw, remember?”
The old hurt surfaced, like hot lava through his midsection. Shane didn’t answer, not knowing how to form the words.
“Or were you planning to tell me I could have my turn with Cassie when you’re through with her?”
“Cassie’s not like that,” Shane burst out, realizing the utter truth in those words. There was no one like Cassie. And he loved her. Every irreverent, impossible thing about her.
“Maybe she’ll decide she wants me after she’s through with you.” Evan’s voice was taut with undisguised hurt.
“It’s not ever going to be like that, Evan.”
“Don’t think I can win her back, big brother? Don’t think I’ve got what it takes? I—”
“Stop it, Evan! For God’s sake, it’s nothing like that.” He paused.
“Then what the hell is it?” Evan asked, his belligerence rising again.
“Cassie’s your cousin!” Shane blurted out. Then his voice softened as he finally imparted the truth. “That’s why I had to stop you from falling in love with her.”
“But that can’t be.” Evan stared at Shane in bewilderment. “Hell, if she’s my cousin, she’s yours, too.”
“No, Evan, she’s not.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. The only way I can be related to her if you’re not is if—” He stopped abruptly, panic and disbelief chasing across his face.
“We’re still brothers, Evan.”
“Then how the hell am I related to Cassie?”
“Luke Dalton was your natural father.” The words seemed to reverberate around the room. Evan’s face went slack with shock. Then anger spewed forth like a broken fountain. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying so I’ll leave Cassie alone.”
Shane turned to Evan, his face a mask of anguish and regret. “I wish I were, Evan. I wish to God I were.”
Evan’s anger gradually disappeared, and the uncertainty returned in full force. “But how?”
Shane explained as gently as he could what he had overheard twenty years earlier and the anguish he had lived with in keeping that secret. Finally Evan sagged into a prickly horsehair chair, his face reflecting his confusion.
“I don’t know what to make of this, Shane.”
“I know you don’t, boy. I expect it’ll take you a while to get used to the idea. Just don’t forget what I said. You’re my brother—nothing will ever change that. And Pa loved you, Evan. He’d be mighty proud of how you grew up.”
Shane placed a heavy hand on Evan’s shoulder. After a few minutes passes, he slowly moved to the door.
As he walked out, Evan’s voice stopped him. His words were hesitant, his voice soft. “What are you going to do about Cassie, Shane?”
Shane bowed his head for a moment. “I don’t know, Evan. I just don’t know.” The door thudded softly as it closed, the sound echoing with the vortex of emotions that seeped in the air.
42
Rain fell in great splashing torrents as Cassie peered through the blurry windows. Each blast of heavy rain seemed too painful for the earth to bear. She refolded the last letter she had read, turned, and replaced it in the cupboard.
She hadn’t thought about the letters Millicent had found when they first moved in until now. They had lain untouched while she questioned and worried over the key to her troubles. Only after last night’s startling revelations had she remembered them and then wondered if the letters her uncle had so carefully saved could have given her the answer. And they had.
The sweet gentle man she remembered had been twisted by his love for Shane’s mother. Love that had been rejected. The final rejection, in the form of a son he promised never to recognize, had pushed him to disregard his neighbors’ plight in his need to punish Shane’s father.
Turning back to the window, Cassie shivered as the distorted silhouette of a rider appeared. She watched mesmerized as the man struggled against the sheets of water that poured over him. When he pounded harshly against the door, Cassie jumped in spite of herself. Millicent was trapped in town, having gone there before the storm had begun. Cassie knew the time of reckoning had come. Knowing she was alone in all ways, Cassie closed her eyes for a moment, wishing for fortification, wishing she could leave him standing on the porch.
But the pounding continued, louder now, more insistent. Fighting the buffeting wind, Cassie cautiously opened the door. Without waiting for an invitation, Jacob Robertson burst through the door and looked wildly around her neat keeping room. She stilled her pounding heart. It wasn’t Shane beating down her door.
“Is my boy here?” Robertson demanded without preamble.
“You can see he’s not.” Cassie didn’t know whether to be relieved or alarmed, but her reply was civil. Barely.
“Is he still with that brother of yours? I saw Fredericks trying to get home. He said they were together a couple of hours ago when he saw them.”
Cassie peered more closely at Jacob’s face. It wasn’t anger she saw there, but fear. “Why do you want to know?”
“You’ve got two eyes in your head. Take a look.”
“You mean the rain?”
“And the floods.”
“What floods?”
“Flash floods, if you’re in the wrong place when it’s coming down. Now, are you gonna tell me where my boy is—or do you just want to let him drown?”
“Evan took Zack and Andrew down the arroyo to—”
Jacob blanched, his ruddy face suddenly pale, his eyes fearful, his voice a mere whisper. “The arroyo?”
Cassie felt fear burn in her belly as she sensed Jacob’s sudden terror. “What?” When he didn’t answer, she shook him. “What about the arroyo?”
“Come a flash flood, the arroyo fills up like a river. And with that dam of yours, it’ll come up twice as fast with nowhere to run off. It’s a deathtrap.”
“But the dam’s letting water through,” she protested.
“Not enough. With the rain comin’ down like this, that dinky pass hole won’t be worth nothin’.”
Cassie’s heart nearly stopped as her terror mounted. “What can we do?”
“‘We’? There’s no ‘we,’ lady. My kid’s out there, and I’ve got to save him.”
“I wouldn’t give you a plug nickel for your life after you killed my uncle, but your son’s not to blame. I’ll do whatever I can to save him.”
Robertson’s eyes seemed to assess her while her mind whirled, looking for an answer.
“What if we blow the dam?” Cassie asked, the thought unbidden but welcome.
“You’d blow the dam?” Jacob’s disbelief lingered in the air.
“I’m not sacrificing the lives of innocent children for a dam,” she cried out, unable to believe the man’s denseness.
Jacob’s gaze rolled over her slowly, then he nodded and spoke. “You’ll have to get the dynamite.”
Cassie looked at him questioningly.
“Closest, fastest way is Lancer. He’ll have what you need. I’ll see if I can get to the boys before the water does.” Robertson tugged at the brim of his hat as he moved to the door, preparing to face th
e raging storm. He hesitated a moment and then turned back.
“I hated your uncle enough to kill him, but I didn’t lay a finger on him.”
Cassie was suddenly still, her heart caught in her throat.
“But I know who did.” Robertson searched Cassie’s face as though he expected her to beg for a name. Her still countenance was more overpowering than anything she could have said. “Fredericks.”
Cassie remembered the uncanny feelings she had for Fredericks and shivered in the cold night air. She’d wondered for so long how she would react to knowing the truth, but now that the moment had arrived she felt strangely calm. “Why?”
Robertson rapidly scanned the cabin, his eyes settling on a coil of rope near the pantry. Quickly moving over to pick it up, he answered, “Money. He never figured on Luke having an heir. He was trying to scare the old man into selling when he went off the ledge. Don’t think even Fredericks planned on him dying, but the ledge gave way.” Robertson shrugged hurriedly. “Fredericks had it in mind to charge everyone a king’s ransom for the water. Then he’d have his own empire.”
“How do you know this?”
“Fredericks figured I was the man for the job. Didn’t think it’d matter to me if I killed Luke to pay back what he’d done to my family.”
Robertson tossed a heavy gold cuff link on the kitchen table. It landed with a thud, reflecting dully off the flickering lantern light. “That’s what you saw that day up in the hills where your uncle died. It’s Fredericks’s—has his initials.”
“But why didn’t anyone ever search there before?”
“’Cause no one cared what happened to Luke Dalton. Most folks were glad he was dead.”
“How did you identify Fredericks as the murderer just by this cuff link?”
“You suppose anybody’d dress in duds like that to climb in scrub brush? You don’t wear cuff links with Levi’s and a work shirt.”
Cassie was silent as she stared at the square piece of gold.
“You ever see him get dirty?” Robertson asked, looping the rope around his bulging arm.
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