Delilah's Flame

by Parnell, Andrea

  “What happened out there?” Sarah dragged her chair up close to him and sat down. “Who’s this Chapman?”

  Tabor let his smile go. “I’m not sure about any of it, Sarah. Chapman’s loco. I met him back in San Francisco. He contends a piece of property my father had a claim to by right belongs to him. Trouble is, that’s the same property I handed over to Clement Damon.”

  “Clement Damon,” Sarah mused. “That’s Lilah’s father?”

  “Do you know the name?”

  “Seems like I’ve heard it.” Sarah searched her mind but came up with nothing clear. “Must have been a long time ago. What was his business with Stan?”

  Tabor shook his head. He hadn’t been interested in his father’s business. Now he wished he had been. “I don’t know,” he answered. “It went back a long time. Damon didn’t say much about it. I think he was more than a little surprised when I showed up and presented him with that claim.”

  “The one Chapman says is his?”

  “Right. Chapman confronted me about the claim after I had given it to Damon. I told him he needed legal proof he had any right to it. We wound up fighting. I thought that settled it and I’d seen the last of him. I sure didn’t think he’d try anything as crazy as kidnapping Lilah.”

  “Was he planning to kill her?”

  “Worse than that,” Tabor said sourly.

  Sarah nodded slowly. “He’ll be back, won’t he?”

  Tabor’s guess was that he would be as soon as that bullet wound healed. But as loco as Chapman was, he wouldn’t give up. He’d keep trying to even the score. Tabor wished he could assure Sarah otherwise. His voice was bitter. “Yes. But not soon. And he won’t surprise me the next time.”

  “And I take it you won’t miss when you draw on him.”

  “Not likely.”

  Sarah got up and threw a couple of pieces of wood on the cook fire. “You had better warn Damon. Chapman might show up there.”

  Tabor got to his feet and brushed the dust off his pants. “I’ll stop by Sandy Flats tomorrow and send a telegram.”

  Together they walked to the tether line to check on the horses and mules. “Can Damon handle a man like Chapman?”

  “Not alone,” he said. “Clement is crippled, confined to an invalid’s chair. But he has men to protect him. He’ll be safe.” Tabor’s brow wrinkled as he thought of the break-in at Damon House. “Thinking back,” he said, “it may be Chapman’s already paid him a visit—in a way. I caught a Chinese fellow breaking in while I was there. He talked about a partner. That could have been Chapman.”

  Sarah’s eyes lit up. “Now I remember about Damon,” she said. “Back ten or fifteen years ago he took the part of some coolies who had been driven out of a town. Put them to work in his mine. The Chinese resentment was high then. People didn’t appreciate Damon helping those Chinese. I don’t remember all the talk, but a short time later there was an accident. Damon got trampled by a herd of horses stampeding through his mining camp.”

  Tabor shook his head. “Somewhere I got the idea he was crippled by a fall from a horse.” Though what Sarah had said explained why Clement’s Chinese employees were devoted to him.

  “No,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “I’m sure Clement Damon is the one. It was in the papers back then. But that was years ago. I guess I remember because it was about the same time you and your mother came to live with us.”

  And about the same time my father deserted us, Tabor thought. Sarah was too kind to put it that way.

  “Damon’s a fine man,” he told Sarah. “He seems to have done well for himself since then.”

  “Just the same, you keep a close watch on that girl. Damon’s had enough loss in his life. Besides, I’ve got a feeling Lilah Damon is mighty special to you too.” She gave him a contemplative look. “You planning on getting hitched?”

  Tabor’s grin returned. “Sarah, you’re too nosy for your own good.”

  Sarah laughed loudly. “I don’t have to be nosy to see you looking like a moonstruck calf.”

  * * *

  Hours later the stars shone down on the quiet camp. Tabor had awakened Lilah and the two of them sat a little way apart from the others, balancing bowls of Sarah’s soup in their laps. As he finished a slab of cornbread, Tabor watched Lilah nibble at hers.

  “Sarah told me about how your father got hurt.”

  Lilah clumsily dropped her cornbread on the ground. “Sarah knows my father?”

  “No.” Tabor tossed the dropped bread away and gave Lilah his remaining slice. “She remembers reading about his accident a long time ago. Your father was a brave man to have taken a stand for the Chinese back then. I admired him already, and even more now. Clement handles himself well. You must be proud of him.”

  “I am,” Lilah said, unabashed. “Papa’s the most important person in the world to me.”

  “You must have been quite young when that accident happened.”

  Her expression turned serious. Accident? What had happened to her father had been no accident. His father had been there that terrible night. But she couldn’t let him know that. It would start him asking questions about the other men involved. Too much interest on his part might cost her the chance to bring justice to the last two of those six.

  “I was,” she said hesitantly, trying to force the memory out of her mind. “Very young. I...I hardly remember it.” It didn’t set easy with her either that her justice had been misguided where he was concerned. But surely she was making it up to him now.

  Tabor took her hand gently. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking into her stricken face. “I’m upsetting you. Sarah will take a stick to me for that.”

  God! She could pull the strings of his heart, looking that way. He found it gratifying, though, that as skillful an actress as she was, there were some emotions she couldn’t hide. Lilah Damon had many soft spots in her heart. He had just hit one of them.

  He could wait to ask her why she needed to be Delilah part of the time. Another day or two of wondering wouldn’t hurt him. Talking about it might unlock painful secrets. Out here in the wilderness she was his responsibility and he didn’t want her going to sleep with unhappy thoughts on her mind.

  Smiling, he kissed her softly on the cheek and was happy to see her face brighten. Near the campfire one of the cowhands started picking a guitar and singing. Tabor pulled Lilah to her feet and led her over to join in the fun.

  Chapter 16

  Shortly after the party stopped to eat the noon meal, Tabor rode into Sandy Flats to send a telegram to Clement and to report the incident to the sheriff. Sarah told Lilah they weren’t far from the ranch and that by the time Tabor got home, she could have had that bath she’d been talking about and be sitting on the front porch drinking lemonade.

  With the possibility of a real bath and a real bed to sleep in at hand, the Cooke ranch sounded like the promised land. A surge of energy rose in Lilah’s tired body. And though the bumpy ride in the chuck wagon rattled her almost as much as being in the saddle, she knew she could hold out a few more miles. At last the trip was nearly over and soon she could change her soiled riding clothes and boots for one of her luxurious gowns. Lilah rubbed her arms, thinking how good silk would feel on her skin. Never in her life had she worn the same grimy outfit two days in a row. Thank goodness there wasn’t a mirror around. Her face must look as if she had traveled the entire Overland Trail.

  While she was daydreaming, Sarah nudged her arm. “Of course if Tabor runs into Sally Ann Caufield in town, he may be late getting home.”

  Jiggling the reins, Sarah shouted to the mules to get moving while Lilah pondered what she had said. Sarah wasn’t much for chitchat, so Lilah supposed she wouldn’t have mentioned that name if it wasn’t important. Suddenly she was wide awake.

  “Is Sally Ann Caufield a friend of Tabor’s?”

  Sarah grinned. “Sally Ann’s had her fishing hook set for Tabor since she was old enough to notice the difference in girls and boys. Well, maybe before
then—she’s still just a kid. She lives over on the next ranch. It’s closer to town than we are, so she’s there in the tearoom almost every day.”

  “I see.”

  Lilah wasn’t prepared to feel jealous of Tabor but she couldn’t account for the sudden agitation she felt any other way. She couldn’t imagine why she should feel the prick of jealousy’s sharp barbs. Why should it matter to her if Tabor was pursued by another woman? She determined not to let it bother her. Her mind was made up that this week was one to be enjoyed.

  Oh, she knew sharing a man’s bed wasn’t moral, but plenty of things in her life had taught her there were times you had to adapt to a different set of standards. And there was no doubt that once this week was over, she would be through with Tabor for good. Maybe some people would think she was decadent. But what did she care? This week she wasn’t truly Lilah Damon. She was Delilah and she meant to get the most out of it.

  She had meant what she said about being a faithful wife. A woman owed that to her husband. But since she didn’t love Barrett in the romantic way, she deserved her fling first. Tabor excited her in a way Barrett never would. Certainly she and Barrett cared for each other, but that didn’t discount the fact that their marriage was primarily a business arrangement. Oh, she knew Barrett would never put that in words. It was true, though. She was his assurance of getting his hands on the Damon empire. He knew her father had been grooming him for the job. She doubted Barrett was even very worried about what her decision on the marriage would be when he returned from London.

  She mulled that over. He knew she would put her father’s concerns above her own and that she would never marry a man who wasn’t prepared to do the same. That wasn’t terribly flattering, was it? Barrett had gone away to save face, but he must have considered that if Lilah chose someone else he would lose all he had worked for. He must be awfully sure of himself.

  Or did Barrett know the kind of marriage he offered was what Lilah preferred? Perhaps he knew her better than she thought. In truth she was convinced that high-flung emotions like love and jealousy only got in the way of a successful marriage. Just look how miserable a little jealousy was making her feel now.

  As she pondered those things, Sarah spoke up again. “I’m telling you about Sally Ann because she’s sure to show up at the ranch. She’s dropped by every week since Tabor’s been gone, asking when he would be back. Soon as she knows he’s here, she’ll be around. And when she sees you, she’ll have her claws out. She’s never has any competition. At least not around here.”

  “I wonder why Tabor hasn’t mentioned her,” Lilah said coolly.

  Sarah contained her grin. “Don’t get me wrong. Tabor hasn’t encouraged Sally Ann. Leastwise not that I know of. He just humors her a little. Takes her to a dance once in a while. This idea there’s something between them is all hers.”

  Lilah’s dander was up, with wondering if Tabor and Sally Ann ever did more than dance. The barbs of jealousy bit into her again and her eyes narrowed. “I hope you don’t think there’s anything binding between me and Tabor.”

  “Isn’t there?” Sarah turned the mules through a wooden gate built post-and-lintel style. The board overhead had “Cooke Ranch” burned into it. On either side was a Circle C. Sarah identified the symbol as her brand.

  “Why, no,” Lilah answered stiffly. “We’re friends, that’s all. Really this plan for me to visit the ranch was something he worked out with Papa. My father thought I ought to see this part of the country.”

  “I guess maybe I got the wrong notion about things,” Sarah said. “But consarn it, the way that boy looks at you, I thought...Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you with my presumption.”

  Lilah moaned to herself. She hadn’t meant to be short and hurt Sarah’s feelings. Besides, what else could Sarah have thought? Tabor might have indicated as much, as a way of explaining why he was bringing her to the ranch. Maybe she should have let Sarah keep thinking there was something between them. Admittedly, she was glad to learn Tabor didn’t make a habit of inviting girls to visit.

  “Of course I do like Tabor a lot.” Lilah offered the words cautiously. “And you never know what might happen.” There. That ought to smooth out the wrinkles. “Thank you for letting me know about Sally Ann,” she added calmly.

  The ranch house came into view, a whitewashed frame structure of two stories with an outdoor staircase running to a porch on the back of the second floor. The house was no mansion like Damon House, but it was larger than Lilah had imagined and had an inviting hominess to it. The rose garden Tabor had told her about was inside a picket fence on one side.

  Sarah drove right past the house and on down to the barn. A wrangler ran out to welcome Sarah back and to take the mules. After Lilah had been introduced to the few ranch hands who were around the barn, she and Sarah walked back to the house.

  A wide and airy shotgun hall ran from front door to back. Within it, a sturdy staircase climbed up to the second floor. A cheerful blue paint covered the walls, and white trim bordered the door and window frames. The floor of scrubbed planks showed the indentions of many boot heels. A wooden clothes rack hung just past the front door and held an assortment of hats and jackets and one gunbelt.

  Lilah peeped into a parlor, only to be startled by the glass-eyed stare of a stuffed bear head above a new-looking medallion-back settee. The room looked as if Sarah and Tabor had fought over the furnishings and ended up in a bizarre compromise. A bowl of silk flowers sat on an occasional table, a stuffed bird on another. A frilly green fern filled one corner while a carved wooden Indian stood ground in another. Lilah decided Sarah’s parlor was indeed the oddest room she had ever seen.

  The kitchen, bigger than the parlor, was clearly all woman’s domain. No sign of Tabor glared at her there, save a pair of polished boots resting by the fireplace. A blackened cast iron wood stove occupied a big share of the room. Between it and the fireplace rested a box heaped with split wood and kindling. The cupboards were open shelves lined with pottery bowls and glass jars filled with dried beans or apple butter or other delectable samples of Sarah’s culinary skill. A tin-lined sink hung against one wall alongside the dry sink and a marble-topped counter for bread-making. Even without a fire going the atmosphere was warm and cozy, and Lilah guessed Sarah and Tabor spent as much time here as in the parlor.

  Sarah had no maid, so Lilah helped start a fire in the stove and helped heat water for her bath. The bathtub turned out to be a large wooden washtub Sarah dragged in from the back porch, but it was clean and big enough to accommodate Lilah. After three days of bathing from a washbowl, Lilah found the oak tub every bit as delightful as the big brass hip tub at Damon House.

  After her bath, however, Lilah received the bad news that her trunk hadn’t yet arrived at the ranch. Since she had no clean clothes of her own, Sarah offered one of her best calico frocks. The dress was bigger than Lilah’s waist by a good six inches and the red print was horrendous with her pink slippers. Laughing at herself, Lilah donned it anyway and cinched one of Sarah’s starched aprons around her waist to tighten up the fit. She would have hanged herself before going out in San Francisco clad as she was, but since no one was likely to see her on the ranch, she accepted Sarah’s invitation to sit out on the porch.

  “Maybe Tabor will pick up your trunk while he’s in town. It’s probably at the stage office in Sandy Flats, but they haven’t gotten around to sending anyone out to tell us.”

  Lilah groaned. “I certainly hope he does. If my trunk has been lost, I don’t even have a decent outfit to wear into town to shop for new clothes.” She saw amusement in Sarah’s black eyes. “Oh, I don’t mean your dress isn’t decent, Sarah,” she hastened to say. “I’m only complaining about the fit.”

  “No need.” Sarah chuckled. “I understand. You’re much too pretty a girl to be covered up by an extra two yards of calico.”

  Still smiling and thinking how much she liked Sarah, Lilah lifted her damp hair off her neck so it would d
ry more quickly in the warm breeze. She noticed Sarah looking toward the gate. “Do you see something?”

  “Looks like a buckboard coming in,” Sarah replied, getting to her feet and shielding her eyes as she strained to see who it was. “It’s leading a horse. Tabor must have rented one to bring your trunk.”

  “Thank goodness,” Lilah responded, standing and joining Sarah on the edge of the porch. She could see the buckboard clearly, and there definitely appeared to be a trunk in back. Tabor’s black hat identified him. Lilah was distressed to see that he wasn’t alone. “Who’s that with Tabor?” she asked.

  “By thunder! It’s Sally Ann,” Sarah said as the buckboard rolled around the last bend in the road.

  Now Lilah could make out the womanly figure close beside Tabor on the driver’s seat. All at once the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up catlike. She could also see the young woman was not a kid, nor the plain-faced country girl she had imagined. Lilah took a quick glance at herself dressed like a bunkhouse cook in Sarah’s attire. She was all set to dash in the house and wait to meet Sally Ann when she was properly outfitted. But there wasn’t time.

  “Hello!” A feminine voice lifted out of the thin cloud of dust the buckboard scattered in front of the porch. “I’ve brought the prodigal home.”

  Tabor gave Sally Ann a forbearing smile as he hopped from the buckboard and tied the horse to the hitching post. He unhooked his saddle horse from the back of the conveyance and tied him to the post as well. With both horses taken care of, he returned to the back of the buckboard for Lilah’s trunk.

  “Hello, Sally Ann,” Sarah replied. “That was nice of you.”