by Diana Palmer
“Apparently not,” Maddie said heavily. She wiped her eyes. “Her dad made her apologize, but I know she never regretted it.” She drew in a breath. “I told her that one day somebody was going to pay her back for all the mean things she did.” She looked up. “Cort thinks she’s a saint. If he only knew what she’s really like...”
“It wouldn’t matter,” the older woman said sadly. “Men get hooked on a pretty face and they’d believe white was black if the woman told them it was. He’s infatuated, baby. No cure for that but time.”
“I thought he was so sexy.” Maddie laughed. She brushed at her eyes again. “Then he lost his temper like that. He scared me,” she said on a nervous smile.
“It’s all right. Nobody’s going to hurt you here. I promise.”
She hugged the older woman tight. “Thanks.”
“At the time, that boy did apologize, and he meant it,” Sadie reminded her. “He was as much a victim as you were.”
“Yes, but he got in trouble and he should have. No man, even an angry young one with justification, should ever do what he did to a girl. He didn’t have nightmares for a month, either, did he, or carry emotional scars that never go away? Sad thing about him,” she added quietly, “he died overseas when a roadside bomb blew up when he was serving in the Middle East. With a temper like that, I often wondered what he might do to a woman if he got even more upset than he was at me that time.”
“No telling. And just as well we don’t have to find out.” Her face hardened. “But you’re right about that Odalie girl. Got a bad attitude and no compassion for anybody. One of these days, life is going to pay her out in her own coin. She’ll be sorry for the things she’s done, but it will be too late. God forgives,” she added. “But there’s a price.”
“What’s that old saying, ‘God’s mill grinds slowly, but relentlessly’?”
“Something like that. Come on. I’ll make you a nice cup of hot coffee.”
“Make that a nice cup of hot chocolate instead,” Maddie said. “I’ve had a rough day and I want to go to bed.”
“I don’t blame you. Not one bit.”
* * *
CORT WAS THOUGHTFUL at breakfast the next morning. He was usually animated with his parents while he ate. But now he was quiet and retrospective.
“Something wrong?” his dad asked.
Cort glanced at him. He managed a smile. “Yeah. Something.” He sipped coffee. “I went over her dad’s journal with Maddie. We had sort of an argument and I started toward her while I was mad.” He hesitated. “She knocked over a chair getting away from me. White in the face, shaking all over. It was an extreme reaction. We’ve argued before, but that’s the first time she’s been afraid of me.”
“And you don’t understand why.” His father’s expression was troubled.
“I don’t.” Cort’s eyes narrowed. “But you do, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“King, should you tell him?” Shelby asked worriedly.
“I think I should, honey,” he said gently, and his dark eyes smiled with affection. “Somebody needs to.”
“Okay then.” She got up with her coffee. “You men talk. I’m going to phone Morie and see how she’s doing.”
“Give her my love,” King called after her.
“Mine, too,” Cort added.
She waved a hand and closed the door behind her. “Tell me,” Cort asked his dad.
King put down his coffee cup. “In her senior year, Maddie was Odalie’s worst enemy. There was a boy, seemingly a nice boy, who liked Maddie. But Odalie liked him, and she was angry that Maddie, a younger girl who wasn’t pretty or rich or talented, seemed to be winning in the affection sweepstakes.”
“I told Maddie, Odalie’s not like that,” Cort began angrily.
King held up a hand. “Just hear me out. Don’t interrupt.”
Cort made a face, but he shut up.
“So Odalie and a girlfriend got on one of the social websites and started posting things that she said Maddie told her about the boy. She said Maddie thought he was a hick, that his mother was stupid, that both his parents couldn’t even pass a basic IQ test.”
“What? That’s a lie...!”
“Sit down!” King’s voice was soft, but the look in his eyes wasn’t. Cort sat.
“The boy’s mother was dying of cancer. He was outraged and furious at what Maddie had allegedly said about his family. His mother had just been taken to the hospital, not expected to live. She died that same day. He went to school just to find Maddie. She was in the library.” He picked up his cup and sipped coffee. “He jerked her out of her chair, slapped her over a table and pulled her by her hair to the window. He was in the act of throwing her out—and it was on the second floor—when the librarian screamed for help and two big, stronger boys restrained him, in the nick of time.”
Cort’s face froze. “Maddie told you that?”
“Her father’s lawyer told Cole Everett that,” came the terse reply. “There were at least five witnesses. The boy was arrested for assault. It was hushed up, because that’s what’s done in small communities to protect the families. Odalie was implicated, because the
attorney hired a private investigator to find the source of the allegations. They traced the posts to her computer.”
Cort felt uneasy. He was certain Odalie couldn’t have done such a thing. “Maybe somebody used her computer,” he began.
“She confessed,” King said curtly.
Cort was even more uneasy now.
“Cole Everett had his own attorney speak to the one Maddie’s father had hired. They worked out a compromise that wouldn’t involve a trial. But Odalie had to toe the line from that time forward. They put her on probation, you see. She had first-offender status, so her record was wiped when she stayed out of trouble for the next two years. She had a girlfriend who’d egged her on. The girlfriend left town shortly thereafter.”
“Yes,” Cort replied, relaxing. “I see now. The girlfriend forced her to do it.”
King made a curt sound deep in his throat. “Son, nobody forced her to do a damned thing. She was jealous of Maddie. She was lucky the boy didn’t kill Maddie, or she’d have been an accessory to murder.” He watched Cort’s face pale. “That’s right. And I don’t think even Cole Everett could have kept her out of jail if that had happened.”
Cort leaned back in his chair. “Poor Odalie.”
“Funny,” King said. “I would have said, ‘Poor Maddie.’”
Cort flushed. “It must have been terrible for both of them, I suppose.”
King just shook his head. He got up. “Blind as a bat,” he mused. “Just like me, when I was giving your mother hell twice a day for being engaged to my little brother. God, I hated him. Hated them both. Never would admit why.”
“Uncle Danny?” Cort exclaimed. “He was engaged to Mom?”
“He was. It was a fake engagement, however.” He chuckled. “He was just trying to show me what my feelings for Shelby really were. I forgave him every minute’s agony. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I didn’t realize how deeply a man could love a woman. All these years,” he added in a soft tone, “and those feelings haven’t lessened a bit. I hope you find that sort of happiness in your life. I wish it for you.”
“Thanks,” Cort said. He smiled. “If I can get Odalie to marry me, I promise you, I’ll have it.”
King started to speak, but thought better of it. “I’ve got some book work to do.”
“I’ve got a new video game I’m dying to try.” Cort chuckled. “It’s been a long day.”
“I appreciate you going over to talk to Maddie.”
“No problem. She just needed a few pointers.”
“She’s no cattlewoman,” King said worriedly. “She’s swimming upstream. She doesn’t even like cattle. She likes chickens.”
“Don’t say chickens,” Cort pleaded with a groan.
“Your problem isn’t with chickens, it’s with a roost
er.”
“I’d dearly love to help him have a fatal heart attack,” Cort said irritably.
“He’ll die of old age one day.” His dad laughed.
“Maddie said that developer had been putting pressure on her to sell,” King added solemnly. “I’ve put on some extra help to keep an eye over that way, just to make sure her breeding stock doesn’t start dying mysteriously.”
“What?” Cort asked, shocked. “She didn’t say anything about that.”
“Probably wouldn’t, to you. It smacks of weakness to mention such things to the enemy.”
“I’m not the enemy.”
King smiled. “Aren’t you?”
He left his son sitting at the table, deep in thought.
* * *
MADDIE WAS WORKING in the yard when the developer drove up a week later. She leaned on the pitchfork she was using to put hay into a trough, and waited, miserable, for him to get out of his car and talk to her.
“I won’t sell,” she said when he came up to her. “And in case you feel like high pressure tactics, my neighbor has mounted cameras all over the ranch.” She flushed at his fury.
“Well, how about that?” he drawled, and his eyes were blazing with anger. He forced a smile. “You did know that cameras can be disabled?” he asked.
“The cameras also have listening devices that can pick up a whisper.”
He actually seemed to go pale. He looked at the poles that contained the outside lighting and mumbled a curse under his breath. There was some sort of electronic device up there.
“I’ll come back again one day and ask you the same question,” he promised, but he smiled and his voice was pleasant. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
“We also have cowboys in the line cabins on the borders of this ranch. Mr. Brannt is very protective of me since my father died. He buys many of our young breeding bulls,” she added for good measure.
He was very still. “King Brannt?”
“Yes. You’ve heard of him, I gather.”
He didn’t reply. He turned on his heel and marched back to his car. But this time he didn’t spin his wheels.
Maddie almost fell over with relief.
Just as the developer left, another car drove up, a sleek Jaguar, black with silver trim. Maddie didn’t recognize it. Oh, dear, didn’t some hit men drive fancy cars...?
The door opened and big John Everett climbed out of the low-slung luxury car, holding on to his white Stetson so that it wouldn’t be dislodged from his thick head of blond hair. Maddie almost laughed with relief.
John grinned as he approached her. He had pale blue eyes, almost silver-colored, like his dad’s, and he was a real dish. He and Odalie both had their mother’s blond fairness, instead of Cole Everett’s dark hair and olive complexion.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he drawled. “Black cars make you twitchy or something?”
“I think hit men drive them, is all.”
He burst out laughing. “I’ve never shot one single person. A deer or two, maybe, in season.” He moved toward her and stopped, towering over her. His pale eyes were dancing on her flushed face. “I ran into King Brannt at a cattlemen’s association meeting last night. He said you were having some problems trying to work out your father’s breeding program. He said Cort explained it to you.”
“Uh, well, yes, sort of.” It was hard to admit that even taking notes, she hadn’t understood much of what Cort had told her.
“Cort tried to tutor me in biology in high school. I got a D on the test. He’s good at genetics, lousy at trying to explain them.” He shoved his hat back on his head and grinned. “So I thought, maybe I’ll come over and have a try at helping you understand it.”
“You’re a nice guy, John,” she said gently. And he was. At the height of his sister’s intimidation, John had been on Maddie’s side.
He shrugged. “I’m the flower of my family.” His face hardened. “Even if she is my sister, Odalie makes me ashamed sometimes. I haven’t forgotten the things she did to you.”
“We all make mistakes when we’re young,” she faltered, trying to be fair.
“You have a gentle nature,” he observed. “Like Cort’s mother. And mine,” he added with a smile. “Mom can’t bear to see anything hurt. She cried for days when your father’s lawyer came over and told her and Dad what Odalie had done to you.”
“I know. She called me. Your dad did, too. They’re good people.”
“Odalie might be a better person if she had a few disadvantages,” John said coldly. “As things stand, she’ll give in to Cort’s persuasion one day and marry him. He’ll be in hell for the rest of his life. The only person she’s ever really loved is herself.”
“That’s harsh, John,” she chided gently.
“It’s the truth, Maddie.” He swung his pointing finger at her nose. “You’re like my mother...she’d find one nice thing to say about the devil.” He smiled. “I’m in the mood to do some tutoring today. But I require payment. Your great-aunt makes a mean cup of coffee, and I’m partial to French vanilla.”
“That’s my favorite.”
He chuckled. “Mine, too.” He went back to the car, opened the passenger seat, took out a big box and a bag. “So since I drink a lot of it, I brought my own.”
She caught her breath. It was one of those European coffee machines that used pods. Maddie had always wanted one, but the price was prohibitive.
“Sad thing is it only brews one cup at a time, but we’ll compensate.” He grinned. “So lead the way to the kitchen and I’ll show you how to use it.”
* * *
TWO CUPS OF mouthwatering coffee later, they were sitting in Maddie’s father’s office, going over breeding charts. John found the blackboard her father had used to map out the genetics. He was able to explain it so simply that Maddie understood almost at once which herd sires to breed to which cows.
“You make it sound so simple!” she exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, John!”
He laughed. “It’s all a matter of simplification,” he drawled. He leaned back in the chair and sketched Maddie’s radiant face with narrowed pale blue eyes. “You sell yourself short. It’s not that you can’t understand. You just have to have things explained. Cort’s too impatient.”
She averted her eyes. Mention of Cort made her uneasy.
“Yes, he loses his temper,” John said thoughtfully. “But he’s not dangerous. Not like that boy.”
She paled. “I can’t talk about it.”
“You can, and you should,” he replied solemnly. “Your father was advised to get some counseling for you, but he didn’t believe in such things. That boy had a record for domestic assault, did you ever know? He beat his grandmother almost to death one day. She refused to press charges, or he would have gone to jail. His parents jumped in and got a fancy lawyer and convinced the authorities that he wasn’t dangerous. I believe they contributed to the reelection campaign of the man who was police chief at the time as well.”
“That’s a harsh accusation,” she said, shocked.
“It’s a harsh world, and politics is the dirtiest business in town. Corruption doesn’t stop at criminals, you know. Rich people have a way of subverting justice from time to time.”
“You’re rich, and you don’t do those types of things.”
“Yes, I am rich,” he replied honestly. “And I’m honest. I have my own business, but I didn’t get where I am by depending on my dad to support me.”
She searched his eyes curiously. “Is that a dig at Cort?”
“It is,” he replied quietly. “He stays at home, works on the ranch and does what King tells him to do. I told him some time ago that he’s hurting himself by doing no more than wait to inherit Skylance, but he just nods and walks off.”
“Somebody will have to take over the ranch when King is too old to manage it,” she pointed out reasonably. “There isn’t anybody else.”
John grimaced. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s
the same with me. Can you really see Odalie running a ranch?” He burst out laughing. “God, she might chip a fingernail!”
She grinned from ear to ear.
“Anyway, I was a maverick. I wanted my own business. I have a farm-equipment business and I also specialize in marketing native grasses for pasture improvement.”
“You’re an entrepreneur,” she said with a chuckle.
“Something like that, I guess.” He cocked his head and studied her. “You know I don’t date much.”
“Yes. Sort of like me. I’m not modern enough for most men.”
“I’m not modern enough for most women,” he replied, and smiled. “Uh, there’s going to be a dressy party over at the Hancock place to introduce a new rancher in the area. I wondered if you might like to go with me?”
“A party?” she asked. She did have one good dress. She’d bought it for a special occasion a while ago, and she couldn’t really afford another one with the ranch having financial issues. But it was a nice dress. Her eyes brightened. “I haven’t been to a party in a long time. I went with Dad to a conference in Denver before he got sick.”
“I remember. You looked very nice.”
“Well, I’d be wearing the same dress I had on then,” she pointed out.
He laughed. “I don’t follow the current fashions for women,” he mused. “I’m inviting you, not the dress.”
“In that case,” she said with a pert smile, “I’d be delighted!”
CHAPTER FOUR
SOME MEN DRAGGED their feet around the room and called it dancing. John Everett could actually dance! He knew all the Latin dances and how to waltz, although he was uncomfortable with some of the newer ways to display on a dance floor. Fortunately the organizers of the party were older people and they liked older music.
Only a minute into an enthusiastic samba, John and Maddie found themselves in the middle of the dance floor with the other guests clapping as they marked the fast rhythm.
“We should take this show on the road.” John chuckled as they danced.
“I’m game. I’ll give up ranching and become a professional samba performer, if you’ll come, too,” she suggested.