by Jane Peart
About an hour into the evening, Mrs. Amberly's acerbic voice penetrated Addie's boredom, jolting her to attention.
"It's said the widow Wegner's mortgaged to the hilt. Her husband was no businessman and left a mountain of debts. They say he died under very mysterious circumstances."
Her employer was talking about Freda! Where on earth had Mrs. Amberly picked up this piece of outrageous gossip? Addie seethed. She longed to rush to the defense of her friend. Helpless rage at her position trembled through Addie.
"Of course, nothing was proven—this being the small town it is—they all protect one another. But . . ." Mrs. Amberly paused significantly. "... I've had it on very good authority that she's used up all her credit, and the bank won't extend her another loan. Several ranchers are waiting until the bank forecloses so they can pick up the land at a low price—which tells me just how loyal friends really are when it comes to a good deal!" Here she gave another dramatic pause. "But she has another trick up her sleeve—I'm told ..."
The Misses Brunell and Mrs. Cranby leaned forward like three scrawny buzzards to pick over the kill.
"To remarry!" Mrs. Amberly announced triumphantly. "A rich husband would solve her problems, right?"
She turned, jerking her head to where Louis and Milton Drew could be seen conferring in the adjoining lounge.
"I understand the widow Wegner has set her cap for him" She raised her voice slightly. "With his wealth and class he'd certainly be a catch—especially for a penniless woman."
Addie checked the urge to contradict her suppositions about Freda and Louis. What would Mrs. Amberly think if she knew the truth—that Louis's interest lay closer at hand. Addie smiled ruefully. Perhaps, if there were no Rexford Lyon, even she might—no, of course not. She would have to be desperate indeed to consider marrying Louis Montand.
"What are you smiling about?" a voice asked and she looked up startled to see Louis standing in front of her. "It must be something pleasant. I could hope you might be thinking of me."
He drew up a chair and angled it so that when he sat down beside her his back would be to the nearby card table and none of the players would be able to overhear what he said.
To avoid answering his question, Addie asked, "Did your business meeting go well?"
Louis frowned slightly. "Ah, well, some small problems—these locals . . . " he started to say something more, but changed his mind. Instead he smiled. "When shall we plan another afternoon together or an evening?"
Before Addie could reply, over Louis's shoulder she saw a tall familiar figure enter the lobby. Then Rex was at the archway, scanning the card room as if looking for someone. Addie's first happy surprise at seeing him was followed by excruciating embarrassment. She almost raised her hand in a greeting when she saw him cross the room toward them. Louis half-turned and followed the direction she was looking. When he saw Rex he stood up.
The four heads at the card table swiveled curiously. As Rex came closer, Addie saw his expression. Anger had turned his gray eyes to burning steel. Suddenly she felt unreasonably frightened.
Rex acknowledged her with a brief nod then spoke directly to Louis in a hard, tight voice, "I have to talk to you, Montand."
Louis lifted an eyebrow. "Now?"
"Yes, now. It's important."
"If you insist." Louis shrugged indifferently. "But surely this is not the time nor the place, Lyon."
"I agree. Shall we go into the Gentlemen's Lounge?"
Louis turned to Addie and in a tone that implied annoyance asked, "Will you excuse us, my dear? This should not take long." Then to Rex, "Let's go and be done with it."
Without a glance at Addie, Rex spun around and led the way out, his boots loud on the polished floor. Louis followed more slowly.
Addie froze, every muscle in her body strained. What were the two men going to discuss? Why was Rex so angry? Just then she heard Mrs. Amberly declare, "I always thought there was bad blood between those two. I felt there was going to be an explosion in that quarter soon, mark my words. What's their trouble? Land. In California that's what any kind of battle seems to be about. Montand can outbid, outspend Rex Lyon, and he's known for getting what he wants. And he wants the widow's property—I don't think he's willing to marry for it, but he is willing to pay a high price for it—higher than any of the ranchers around here can scrape up. Especially Lyon. I understand his family's fortune was all turned into the land, no cash. And the widow wants out—she's tired of the drudgery and lonely—although it's said she has plenty of company—when she wants it."
Addie was almost too upset at the moment to pay attention to Mrs. Amberly's ugly gossip. Then suddenly the bone of rumor Mrs. Amberly had thrown for the others to gnaw on came through to her. Could Mrs. Amberly have for once heard something true? Addie's hands clutched the canvas-backed needlepoint so tight that the needle jabbed into her finger. She gave a little gasp and looked down to see a small spot of blood rising at its tip.
What really was going on between the two men? She had to find out.
The card players were too preoccupied with their game and gossip to notice as Addie slipped out of the room. She crossed the lobby and stood concealed by one of the fluted pillars. From behind the swinging louvered doors of the Gentlemen's Lounge she heard raised voices.
"You're hiring Chinese?" Rex's was intense.
"Yes, if that's any concern of yours," Louis replied coldly.
"You're darn right it concerns me. Just as it will the other ranchers. Anything that happens in this valley concerns us all. I'd like to know why you're importing cheap labor when we have plenty of willing workers right here—people who were born in this valley, live here, support their families by working the vineyards, Californios who love the land, take pride in their work, have worked for vintners for years with loyalty and—"
"One Chinaman can work twice as long and three times as hard as any Californio you've got in your vineyards, Lyon. It's a free country. You're free to save money yourself any way you can. Don't tell me how to conduct my business. You run your ranch the way you see fit, and I'll do the same. I'm just trying to make an honest profit on my investment."
"At the expense of the rest of us? At the expense of those poor devils brought here like cattle in boxcars? I was at the station just after they arrived. I saw the conditions in which they traveled seventy miles in the heat of the day—no light, no air, no water—" his voice became heavy with contempt, "—no thanks to you, it's a wonder they didn't die en route. Now, I hear you have them sleeping out in your orchards."
"They're used to a lot worse in their own country—"
"I guess you think the Chinese are less than human. The lowest form of humanity, right? They swarm over to this country like rats. They're only peasants in their own country, why should you care if they're treated decently? Or what conditions they live under after they get here? Just so you get twelve or sixteen hours a day of work out of them."
"I think you've said quite enough, Lyon. I warn you, don't go too far." Louis's voice dropped, attempting a lighter tone. "Come now, let's have a drink together like two reasonable fellows who happen to disagree."
"Drink with you? No thanks."
Before Addie could move, she heard the creak of the doors of the Gentlemen's Lounge being pushed open. She shrank back against the post, flinching at the sight of the ironlike expression on Rex's face as he stalked across the lobby. As the slam of the front door of the hotel reverberated, Addie discovered she was trembling.
PART 4
VALLEY OF THE HEART
Chapter 15
Addie did not sleep well that night. Louis's soothing assurance that it had all been 'a little disagreement' between the two men—nothing she should worry "her pretty head about"—failed to satisfy Addie. She did not tell Louis how much she had overheard, since that would place her in the awkward position of being an eavesdropper. But when she tried tactfully to find out the real reason, Louis became irritated. He told her he had to be off to
Chateau Montand, that Estelle would worry if he was too late.
What bothered Addie more was Rex's coldness toward her. She had seemed to be included in his animosity toward Louis. What could possibly have happened to change his attitude so drastically?
She was awake at dawn, her head aching, her eyes heavy from lack of sleep. Maybe some fresh air, a walk would clear her head. She got up, dressed, and went out into the cool gray morning.
The image of Rex's angry unsmiling face lingered in her mind. The way he had looked at her last night was so different from what she had seen in his eyes before. Or had she imagined it all? After all, she scarcely knew him—one day together was all they had really had. One magical day. Hardly enough on which to build a dream. And yet . ..
Head down, Addie trudged on, heartsore. She had just turned in the gates of Silver Springs when a familiar voice jerked her out of her melancholy reverie. "Whoa there, Miss Pride! Hold on!" She turned to see Brook striding purposefully toward her. "Addie!" he smiled as he came alongside her. "What are you doing out so early on this gloomy morning?"
"Escaping!" Addie tried not to look guilty even though she felt sure Brook knew how difficult Mrs. Amberly was.
"I understand." He gave her a solemn wink. "'One hour of thoughtful solitude may nerve the heart for days of conflict, girding up its armor to meet the most insidious foe,' eh?"
"I'm not sure I recognize that," she said as they fell into step and started walking again.
"Percival, a rather obscure philosopher. I like to collect that kind of quotation, then I can spring them once in a while when it's appropriate, and my friends think I'm erudite."
Addie laughed. "Well, I'd think that anyway, Brook. I'm convinced you are very clever indeed." They walked along a little farther. "Now, I'll ask you the same question you asked me. What are you doing out and about so early?"
"Well, I'm going out of town for a few days—to San Francisco first. I need to talk to some of my investors, explain my plans for the race track and other expansions I have in mind." He glanced at her smiling. "In other words you might say I'm going prospecting for gold!"
"You don't look dressed for it!" As usual Brook was impeccably dressed.
He acted surprised. "Don't you know the secret of borrowing lots of money? You have to look like you don't need it!"
"Well, you don't. You look as though you owned the world," she told him, surveying his superbly cut coat, snowy linen shirt, silk cravat.
Brook swung his gold-headed cane and his expression became serious. "Well, let's hope the men I'm going to see will agree that Calistoga can become the Saratoga of the West. If we're going to draw the racing crowd we've got to have thoroughbred horses, attract the top jockeys. It will mean a sizable investment. But well worth it, if I can just convince them." He frowned for a minute. "Let's just hope these men will be willing to part with a great deal of cash—otherwise ..." He let his thought fade away like the morning mist; then he smiled down at her. "Wish me luck?"
"Of course, I do. Although Silver Springs seems almost perfect just the way it is—if you didn't do another thing—"
"Ah, but then you don't have my dreams."
"Dreams," she repeated thoughtfully. "I guess, maybe—I've seen too many dreams dissolve."
"Don't give up dreaming, Addie. That's fatal. Remember, 'A man's reach must exceed his grasp'—or else, as the poet says, 'what's a heaven for?'"
"Browning. I got that one right, didn't I?" Addie smiled. "I didn't know you also knew poetry."
"But then, dear Addie, there are many things you don't know about me."
"Perhaps in time ..."
"Time. There is never enough of it, is there? But maybe, if you did you'd be disappointed—disillusioned—" He broke off abruptly. "Well, I must be off."
"Will you be gone long?"
"I can't be sure. It depends." He smiled enigmatically. "To quote Will Shakespeare, 'As good luck would have it'— what success I have in my endeavor."
"I'll miss you anyway, however long. The Springs is never the same when you're away."
Something curious softened Brook's glance. "And I shall miss you, Addie." Then he gave the brim of his hat a flick, bowed, and nonchalantly said, "Adios. Hasta luega," and walked quickly away in the direction of the main building.
Addie watched him go regretfully. She had been tempted to tell Brook about the quarrel she had overheard between Rex and Louis, and ask him if he could guess what it was about. Brook was discreet, but he knew the town well, the undercurrents as well as the rumors and the facts. However, she did not have a chance because Brook had seemed very distracted as though he had other things on his mind today than valley conflicts.
What an enigma Brook was. She had never met anyone like him. Outgoing, congenial as he was, there was much about him that remained mysterious. A few times he had let her see a part of him he mostly kept hidden. Ambitious, creative, impulsive, he had made no secret of his goal of bringing Calistoga prosperity and fame, and becoming a millionaire before he was thirty—whatever that took. This Addie found fascinating.
She sighed. As mercurial as he was, Addie knew she would miss him. His presence around the resort was certainly energizing and gave the humdrum days a needed spark.
However, this time Brook returned as suddenly as he had departed. Going to check her mail one morning a few days later, Addie was surprised to see him behind the reception desk in the lobby.
"Brook, I didn't know you were back! How was the mining? Successful?" she asked teasingly.
He looked blank for a few seconds as if he didn't know what she meant. Then he must have recalled their conversation, and his face broke into a smile—a rueful one. "Not quite as successful as I'd hoped. But as they say, 'thar's gold in them thar hills'—other hills. I've still got my plans, just have to dig in another spot."
But there was something in the way Brook spoke that made Addie wonder.
In the next few days the weather turned changeable; there were days of drizzling rain and days of brilliant sunshine. On some afternoons, fog began drifting over the land, moving with eerie swiftness, its misty veil giving a sense of isolation and beauty to the valley.
The damp spring weather had an adverse effect on Mrs. Amberly's rheumatism, and she complained loud and often about how little good the treatments were doing her. Even when the rain stopped and there were several mild days in a row, the sky remained sullen with low-lying clouds, and Mrs. Amberly became vocally irritable, talked of leaving. Then one of the other guests, an elderly lady Addie quite liked for her dignity and aloofness, suggested that she might try a few days in the lake country at the geyser resorts. The air was said to be drier and the weather a little sunnier. Mrs. Amberly began to talk of joining the group of guests from the hotel who were going to make the trip to Lakeport.
At breakfast she told Addie to make inquiries about arrangements. When Addie left the dining hall and started toward the main building she nearly collided with Brook. He was walking toward her, his head down as if in deep thought. He seemed startled when she spoke to him. "Brook?"
For a second he almost seemed to be trying to place her. Then he smiled and held out his hands to her. "Addie! Sorry! I was woolgathering."
"I was hoping to see you before we left," she said.
"Left?" he seemed puzzled.
"Maybe Mrs. Amberly didn't mention it to you, but she's planning to go up to Lakeport to the geysers for a few days. She's heard it's warmer, less damp up there—" Addie halted, mid-sentence. Brook seemed so distracted. Obviously he had something more important on his mind than hearing about Mrs. Amberly's plans.
"What? I'm sorry, Addie, I guess I'm a little preoccupied today."
"Thinking about racetracks and thoroughbreds?" she teased.
Again he seemed to draw a blank for a minute before giving a short laugh. "Oh, yes, right! Racetracks and thoroughbreds." He paused then said, "I may have to go away again for a few days."
"Oh, are you planning another
gold mining expedition?"
"Well, maybe, I guess you could call it that." Brook reached for her hands and held them in his. "Good-bye, Addie, in case I don't see you before I leave." He gave her a smile, more tender than his usual roguish one. "You're a very special lady, you know. I wish—" he halted and resumed his teasing way, "—but then you know what they say about wishes—if they were horses, beggars would ride? My wishes tend to run to thoroughbreds—very, very expensive thoroughbreds."
Brook held both of her hands a little longer, then gave them a gentle squeeze before releasing them. "Good-bye, my dear Miss Pride."
Addie watched him walk away with his self-confident stride; then quite suddenly the swirling mist rising up from the ground seemed to encircle then blot him from her sight. For a moment Addie felt an icy shiver course down her spine. A premonition of some sort? Of danger? No, of course not. It was just that it had been a strange sensation seeing Brook disappear like that into the fog.
The arrangements to go on the morning stage up to Lake-port and the geyser resort were made. In a flurry of packing and last-minute decisions of what to take, Mrs. Amberly belatedly remembered she would need cash for the trip, so she sent Addie to the bank before it closed for the day. Addie dropped everything else she was doing and rushed off to town. Just as she reached the bank door, it opened. Rex Lyon was coming out.
Both halted. Blood rushed hotly into Addie's face. The day of the picnic with all its romantic promise, the days of diminishing hope that followed, her disappointment and sense of hurt seemed to culminate in this unexpected encounter.
For a moment they both seemed locked in an embarassing inability to speak. For what was there to say? Neither could pass because the other was blocking the way. Speechless, Addie nonetheless searched Rex's face for a clue as to what he might be feeling. But his eyes regarding her steadily revealed nothing, and his expression told her even less.