A Western Romance: Rob Yancey: Taking the High Road (Book 10) (Western Mystery Romance Series Book 10)

by Morris Fenris

  “You’d oughta take some time off t’ visit our neck of the woods, Parson,” intervened Thomas. “It’d give you a whole different perspective on life.”

  “Oh, you should,” Elizabeth agreed. She reached over to touch Caroline’s arm, as if for emphasis. “We’d love for you to see the ranch. Nate, you barely got time to relax, during that hurry-up trip you made for our wedding years ago; and, Carrie, you’ve never been. Desert air is so good for you. Not to mention that the scenery is magnificent.”

  Her husband sent her the kind of teasing glance that had cemented their relationship from the very beginning. “You sound like a travel brochure, honey.”

  “Hey, is this a private affair over here, or can anybody join in?”

  A chorus of greetings rang out: “Naw, c’mon, Cole.” “Space right b’side me.” “Welcome, welcome.” “Where’s that pretty wife of yours?”

  “Janie? She’s checkin’ on the kids.”

  Cole, most recently married of all the brothers, could claim three boisterous young angels as part of his posterity. Aaron, the eldest, was now closing in on the ripe old age of ten; Oliver, named for his grandfather, was next in line, at seven; and Selina, just past a year, was still toddling around on unsteady legs.

  “The baby’s been teethin’ and caught herself a chest cold, so Janetta was feelin’ a trifle nervous about leavin’ her very long. You watch: I wouldn’t be surprised t’ see her come back in carryin’ the little one.”

  Shortly, she did, and no one else was surprised, either. Janetta could be forgiven a little fussing on behalf of her children, having lost one baby to stillbirth and another partway through pregnancy. “It is a terrible thing,” Nathaniel had declared sadly, upon hearing the news, “when parents must bury a child.”

  By that time Rob, much beleaguered, was feeling a great need for open space and fresh air, away from this mob of human beings. Slipping out a side door, he made his escape to a pretty oasis containing several young quaking aspen, great clay pots filled with orange poppies and tea-scented roses, and an iron bench painted white. Gratefully he sank down onto its seat, stretched out his long legs, and drew in a deep breath. The clear night sky overhead held a silver spangle of stars, and a slight breeze frisked through the branches and rippled grass underfoot and along the walkway.

  “I know exactly how that feels,” said a disembodied voice from the shadows.

  “Uncle Paul?” Chuckling, Rob rose to shake his uncle’s hand. “How long have you been hiding out here?”

  The journalist had been smoking a fragrant little cigar that sent pale gray spirals up and away. Now, in deference, he crushed it carefully underfoot to join his nephew on the bench. “Too much goin’ on inside,” he admitted, “even if it is in your honor, son. The ladies like dressin’ up and throwin’ a party, but after a while I’d rather head out t’ the mountains somewhere.”

  “It does get to be wearing,” Rob agreed. Crossing one ankle over the other knee, he leaned back with a gratified sigh. “But it was awful nice of everybody to show up and welcome me home.”

  “Oh, hell, any excuse for a party, you know. I suspect Teddy is in there orderin’ everybody around and givin’ the back of her tongue t’ anyone who don’t listen.”

  Rob couldn’t help smiling at that picture. Indeed, this aunt was the feistiest of the feisties, and would take guff from nobody. Yet, by contrast, she presented the image of a demure and dignified lady of leisure, with her slight figure, short reddish-gold hair, and luminous silvery eyes.

  After a companionable silence, the two men hashed over familiar topics: the family first, then the business, then the personals.

  “You still have just the two kids, Uncle Paul?” Rob felt called upon to ask, being polite. “Lucas, if I remember rightly, and Georgina.”

  “Well. Uh. Yeah, for right now.”

  Rob jerked upright. “Good God. Is Aunt Teddy expecting, too?”

  “Howdja guess?”

  A snort of disbelief, and a head shake even more disbelieving. “It’s an epidemic, I swear. Something damned contagious is going around, and I think I’d better hit the road before it sucks me in, too.”

  Laughing, Paul lightly thumped his companion on the upper arm. “Oh, I don’t reckon you have to worry all that much about it, son. Just what comes along natural.”

  “Well, it looks like Uncle Quint has avoided all that so far.”

  “Ahuh. So far. Quint likes variety in his love life. But, who knows? The right lady goes tripping past his door, with all the right equipment, and he’ll fall like a chopped-down ponderosa. So. Talked with your folks t’night?”

  He hadn’t, Rob confessed. There’d been such a crush of guests in that enormous room, and so much going on, that he hadn’t found his way clear yet.

  “Well, don’t wait too long. Your paw has been mighty anxious t’ get you educated and back home again, and your mama is just about b’side herself till she can check you over, head t’ toe.”

  “Fluttering,” Rob complained. “Nagging. Fretting.”

  “Ahuh, that’s as may be. But don’t run it down, son. Them ladies frettin’ and naggin’ are what keeps this whole bunch t’gether. So. Got enough fresh air in your lungs? Best head on back int’ that foofooraw and let yourself be lionized.”

  The noise level of the ballroom had increased to an ear-splitting decibel, he realized. Part of that was due to the fact that the children had been released, and were whizzing past the adults like obstacles in a maze. Most of the men had taken to shouting to each other across this or that group, and the women had given up circulating to congregate in small clusters here and there, out of the line of traffic.

  Carefully wending his way between everyone blocking passage, Rob finally reached his objective on the opposite side of the room, where his parents were holding court.

  “Robbie!” cried Star.

  As expected, he had to submit to a series of hugs and kisses and close examination by the normally uneffusive, undemonstrative Mrs. Goldenstar Yancey.

  “Hold still, please, and let me look at you. Oh, Robbie, you’re too thin,” she scolded, holding him at arm’s length for a slow up-and-down survey. “Didn’t they feed you at that school? Have you been unwell? We would never know, of course, since you have written us so rarely. You’ve been working too hard on your studies, I have no doubt. Matthew, you simply must—”

  “H’lo, son,” said the tall man beside her, in that familiar slow molasses-warm drawl, with that familiar slow slightly crooked grin, that never failed to satisfy some obscure yearning in the boy’s heart. “Damn good t’ have you back home again.”

  A hard, lengthy embrace gave Rob all that he was hoping for. He loved and doted on his stepmother; but he idolized his father. Over a lump in his throat, he managed, “Damn glad to be here. How’re you doing, sir?”

  “Why, I’m doin’ right fine. Afraid maybe all this ballyhoo mighta scared you off, though, so I sent Quint out lookin’ for you.”

  Rob grinned. “He was successful. Got me primed and ready to take my licks.”

  “Now, really, Rob, did you think you could graduate from such a prestigious place and then just sneak back into town with no one taking notice?” Star, indignant, propped both hands on her hips as if to demand an answer. “Several of your aunts helped me put this celebration together—no easy matter, I assure you, with so many family members and friends scattered all about. But we thought it was the least we could do, to honor the first-born of your generation.”

  “Yes, Star, of course that’s just what you would do.” He bent to kiss her smooth golden-brown cheek. “Thank you, Mother. Thank you for all the years of caring for me, and making me your own.”

  Tears glittered suddenly on her lashes. “Why, Rob, if that isn’t the sweetest thing—”

  “Ahuh. That’s me, Ma. Sweet.” Then, because the moment had become too serious in the midst of such frivolity, this mature young man was briefly plunged back into adolescence; he reached down t
o ruffle and muss up the shining black braids wrapped so neatly into a coronet atop her head.

  “Oh—stop, you worthless boy—!”

  “Where’s everybody else?” he inquired of his father, who had stood watching with amusement and satisfaction.

  “Well, lemme think…C.C. is makin’ the rounds with her latest swain—”

  “Swain!” Rob took a step backward, astonished. “That girl isn’t old enough for such goin’s-on.”

  “She’s nearly seventeen,” Star pointed out with pride. “Your sister has really blossomed in the past year; you’ll hardly recognize her, with her hair up, and her skirts gone from short to long.”

  He snorted. “Huh. Well, she’d better understand, first thing, that any feller who wants to keep her company has to meet my approval before they set foot out the door.”

  “You betcha.” His father’s dark eyes were dancing, as he shared glances with his wife. “I’ll make sure t’ tell her that, myself. Then I’ll just stand aside and let her lay int’ you with a few good punches, like she always does.”

  “As for Kendra and Reese,” continued Star serenely, with a smile, “they were part of that mob of cousins in the next room. If you look closely now, you might find them racing around here, there, and everywhere. It’s hard to keep track of them. But you’ll have plenty of time, in the days ahead.”

  Surveying his surroundings, from ceiling to floor and all things in between, Rob considered the party plans. “Actually, Ma, I’m surprised you all didn’t meet me at the station, waving banners and balloons and carrying Welcome Home signs.”

  “She wanted to,” Matthew chuckled. Settling one arm around his wife, dressed so charmingly in gleaming garnet satin and ruffles, he pulled her close to his heart. “But I convinced her that might not be so fittin’, a man of your stature and all. Then she talked about a surprise party.”

  “A surprise party.”

  “Ahuh. Got her mind changed about that one, too. So we settled on this wing-ding of a blowout, instead.” An impish sideways look, that said there might be retribution later in the bedroom. “Seemed fair enough, yes, darlin’?”

  “I let you think so,” murmured Star, unmoved. “Now, come, Robbie, dear. Let’s renew your acquaintance with some of the guests you haven’t seen for so long.”

  III

  He lasted two weeks at the family homestead. And the second of those two weeks felt like four. What with all the activity going on, he might just as well have been back floating hither and yon to his college classes, knee-deep in noise and neck-deep in the romantic flings of others.

  Reese, who was only seven, thundered up and down the stairs, along and through the halls, in tandem with his equally thunderous dog, Woof, like a stampeding buffalo. No regard at all for his elder brother’s partiality toward sleeping in late and waking up cranky.

  He’d kept irregular hours for too many years, Rob tried to justify this pleasant habit. He had graduated with honors; he needed to vacation for a while before returning to routine; he deserved to ease up, after holding his nose to the grindstone all that time. Cut him some slack!

  Then there was eleven-year-old Kendra, who proved to be almost as bad. If she weren’t teasing him and giggling over some imagined grand prank, she was playing hostess to a whole gaggle of little girls. The entire bunch of them warily watched his every move, as if he were about to sprout horns from his head at any moment, and then whispered furiously to each other behind their hands. About him, there could be no doubt. And something probably not very flattering.

  When he complained to Star, asking for a little consideration, she merely raised her brows. “And how old are you, Rob, dear?” Then, after one of her patented, more critical up-and-down looks: “Isn’t it about time for a haircut?”

  Christina Coral flitted in and out on the ready arm of various eager beaux—too young to actually be considered gentlemen callers, too old to be considered playmates—none of whom, once introduced, met Rob’s strict standards. The wonder of it was that any of them returned after being subjected to his supercilious scrutiny, multiple questions of a pointed and personal nature, and the occasional glance almost of contempt.

  Finally C.C. had had enough. Unlike their younger siblings, she was growing into her own power and could use it well.

  “Stop it,” she ordered him. “Call off your dogs.”

  “Dunno what you mean, little girl.”

  It was mid-morning and Rob had just tucked his big bare feet under the breakfast table, ready for one of Star’s monumental meals and a reviving cup of coffee. Having C.C. suddenly appear, someone to tickle and tease, would provide just the right amount of entertainment while he ate.

  “Oh, ho, you do so know exactly what I mean. When my escort for the evening shows up, ready to take me out, he shouldn’t have to be subjected to the third degree, as you’ve been doing.”

  “Just watching out for your interests.” Unconcerned, he reached for the sugar bowl and a spoon. “No point in letting just anyone walk around with my sister. We have a reputation to maintain, y’ know.”

  “Oh, like you’re doing that,” she jeered, “lounging around at this time of the day, with nothing more important to do in life.”

  Blowing an imaginary speck of dust off his knife, he began to butter the stack of flapjacks, still steaming on his plate. “Well, I don’t. I’m a gentleman of leisure.”

  “Oh, puh-leeze, Rob! You’re no gentleman, and you don’t deserve any leisure. Why aren’t you out working, like Papa is?”

  Past experience had taught him that, if he waited long enough, and baited her far enough, she’d move within range. And when she did, he’d strike. Just one more minute. Just one more pithy remark, and…

  “Well, hey, I have my sheepskin. May as well let Pa support me in the style to which I’m accustomed, don’t you think?” He smirked.

  “Oh, you really are the limit, Robert Yancey. Nosy, and lazy besides. Let Papa support you, indeed! What do you intend to do with that almighty sheepskin?”

  Closer. Quicker. And…aha!

  “Eeeeooww!”

  Rob’s arm had snaked around her waist and hauled her in like lure on the line. Then, before she could pull free, he yanked her upside down across her lap and administered several light swift smacks across her pantalooned bottom.

  “There. That’s for behaving like a little troll.”

  Released, red-faced, careful coiffure mussed and sunny yellow dress twisted, C.C. went for the jugular, as a last resort: “Mama! Rob hit me!”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” said Star, bustling into the room with a glass jar of jam. “What is the matter with you two? You’ve been tormenting each other since the day Rob got home. Anyone hearing you would think there’s a lot of hatred stored up, instead of the love I know you share.”

  “Who, us? Love? Well, if that don’t beat all!” Laughing, once again Rob snaked out an arm, but this time he merely pulled his sister into an embrace. “C’mere, Fish Face, and I’ll make you a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?” Wary, suspicious, but possibly amenable.

  “You stay outa that trunk full of all my Columbia stuff, and I’ll stay outa your love life. Deal?”

  “But you’ve refused to show me anything of what you brought back, and I really want to—”

  “Deal?” Rob’s grip tightened as he dug his fingers into her waist.

  C.C. pouted. And, since she pouted so prettily, she enhanced the look with crossed eyes and a tongue stick-out, just for his benefit. “Oh, all right, then. Deal. Damn it.”

  “Christina Coral!” Chagrined, their mother threw her hands into the air. “None of that language in this house, if you please. Or your father will have to speak with you. Now, find something worthwhile to do, before I send you out to weed in the garden.” A stern look from one to the other, a warning wag of the finger, and she marched back to her kitchen province.

  The girl rolled her dark amber eyes sideways. “Think she was really that ups
et I used a cuss word?”

  “Naw. She’s heard a lot worse than that from Pa. And, truth t’ tell, I think Ma could teach all of us a few things about using cusswords. Really nasty ones. I can tell you, don’t ever get her Cherokee blood riled up, or she’ll be spittin’ out language that will make your ears burn.”

  “You might wanna stay clear of them moccasins of hers, as well,” put in Matthew, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “Been on the receivin’ end of a few kicks myself, now and then, and my shins wore bruises for days.”

  A giggle from C.C. “You two, for shame. Why I have never heard this before?”

  “Why, honey?” Her father offered his sweet slow grin, straight from the salt marshes of Charleston, as he gave her a hug. “B’cause you’re a girl, that’s why. She’s nicer t’ you and Kendra than to us poor half-witted males. Figures t’ toughen us up.”

  Over the dinner table, with everyone gathered and Woof temporarily banished outside, plans for the day, for next month, and for the future were discussed. When the younger children heard that Rob would be moving to his own apartment on the top floor of Hotel Blue Sky, and working in the corporate offices of the building right next door, they were immediately drawn in.

  “Maybe you won’t be thinking I’m such a no-’count now, after all,” admonished Rob, waggling thick straight brows at his sister, across the table.

  While Star’s attention was briefly diverted elsewhere, C.C. flung a rolled-up little ball of bread dough at him. “You may be climbing your way up the Yancey Holdings ladder,” she told him sweetly, “but you’ll still be no-’count to me, Robert Malachai.”

  Kendra thought the whole idea was exciting and romantic, but Reese set up a howl of indignation. “Oh, no fair,” he loudly proclaimed. “Rob always gets t’ do everything. How’s come I can’t go live in some apartment somewhere, by myself?”

  “Oh, hell, I won’t even be there most of the time, Reesie-Smeesie,” Rob intervened. “I’ll be off traveling around, checking all our hotels and acting important.”