Several ewes now had a blue smudge on their rumps.
“What are those?” she asked, her voice a dry whisper.
“Crayon marks,” answered C.W., his voice husky. “See that harness Studly is wearing? It’s a marking harness. Each ram has a different color, and it identifies who mounted the ewe. For records.”
“Sounds efficient,” she replied, relieved to be discussing the operation.
“How about you,” Frank called out to C.W. “When’re you gonna get off this farm and service the ladies?”
Junior leaned over and whispered in C.W.’s ear loud enough for all to hear. “Maybe you don’t need to leave the farm after all.”
Nora died on the spot. Through lowered lashes, she noticed a red flush creeping up C.W.’s ears.
He calmly shook his head, appearing mildly amused by the boys’ antics. To his credit, despite the snickering around him and the color on his neck, his voice assumed a deep, resolute quality when he answered.
“This is one stud who will choose but one mate for life.” He raised his eyes to Nora, a direct message sent in a direct line. And a warning to all witnesses.
Nora tried to look away but instead found Seth’s keen eyes upon them, never missing a thing. Her blush deepened.
In a rush she turned away, but C.W. straightened and brought his boot down from the rail with a thud. Reaching out, he grabbed her elbow. Nora jerked his hand away, but he stubbornly refused to yield. As he led her to a private corner of the barn she shot him a fiery gaze, but he ignored it and only tightened his grip till she thought her bone would snap.
The heat in the barn was oppressive, and it exacerbated the heat of the moment. As C.W. swung her around to face him, Nora’s long braid slapped her face. Her back was against the wall and she felt the dry wood scratch through her denim. Clenching her teeth, she yanked her arm free, but before she could skirt away, he arched over her, leaning both arms against the barn wall and covering her like a tent. In defiance, she tightened both arms around her chest.
“I’m not one to mince words,” he said. His blue eyes flashed and demanded her total attention.
“Don’t say them,” she pleaded with closed eyes. The afternoon had been too tense, nerves were too frayed. At times like this, secrets could be exposed.
His sigh rumbled in his chest. “Nora, Nora, Nora. Don’t deny what’s between us. Closing your eyes to it won’t make it go away.”
“I thought you said this wouldn’t happen again.”
“I know. You make me a liar. I can’t stop this.”
His intensity invaded her and she shook her head in denial.
As if physically to change her mind, he grabbed her chin. She opened her eyes, now inches away from his, and gasped in the humid, charged air between them.
He released her chin and let his fingers slide down her neck and rest upon the gentle curve along the shoulder. Nora traced each centimeter along her nerve endings, and the pulse in her neck throbbed against his thumb. He offered not a hint of pressure, yet she felt choked with desire.
“Stop. Please.”
His hand stiffened on her shoulder then slipped away as he stood straight. Cool air slipped between them, though the breathing came no easier.
“I’m not a teaser ram,” he said bluntly.
She blinked and stood straight herself. “And I’ll not have crayon marks on my back.”
His eyes narrowed; the blue fires raged. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’d better realize I’m not just another mount.” She turned her head, embarrassed by her crude analogy.
“Nora,” he said as he leaned over her again and brought her eyes to his, “I don’t think of you that way.”
His nearness was suffocating and her nerves snapped. “I don’t want you to think of me at all.” She swallowed in the dry air as she grappled for the right words. The distance he created after stepping back gave her the chance to gather herself in a proper stance.
In her best employer-like tone she declared, “I don’t think it’s wise for us to start a personal relationship.”
He stood as straight as the wall. “Because I’m a farmhand and you’re a New York socialite?”
Nora closed her eyes for a moment. His question stung and dissolved her control. “No,” she cried, “not because of that. Because I have nothing and you have nothing, and I’m afraid of what that adds up to.”
When she opened her eyes again, the fire in his eyes still smoldered. She had admitted far more than she had ever intended.
“Let’s just be friends,” she whispered.
He looked around the room, then raised his eyes to the ceiling as his fingers drummed his hips. All the while Nora saw a muscle twitching furiously in his cheek.
“Please.”
When he lowered his eyes, his face was carved in granite.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“See you tonight at seven—friend?” she persisted.
He swung his hands into his rear pockets and stared at her with squinted eyes, considering. His brows created deep creases in his tanned skin.
“Seven sharp.” Then he turned and walked to the tractor parked at the barn’s rear entry. She watched him tinker with the engine for several moments, but it was obvious he wasn’t getting much accomplished.
Steeped in frustration, Nora turned and marched out of the barn and up the long road to her house. The house was dark and the kitchen door was ajar. That was strange, she thought, and she felt a sudden prick of fear. Oh well, she reassured herself. I must not have closed it tight enough. Nora slowly climbed the steps and gave the kitchen door a quick push. The swing was cut off by some resistance on the inside. She pushed harder. The door scraped open, pushing a fallen trash can along the floor. Her stomach tight, Nora reached her hand along the inside wall and flicked on the light. She stood listening intently, ready to flee. When she heard no response, she peered around the door.
Her furniture, dishes and pots—everything—were scattered across the floor. Nora’s hand flew to her mouth and she ran out.
The men returned to the barn from her house, somber faced. Esther and Nora sat together, trying to figure out who could have robbed her place. There had been a couple of robberies in town lately; TVs and guns were the prime targets. When the men approached, they stood up for the news.
“Someone’s done a good job tearin’ up your place,” said Frank.
“A real mess,” added Junior.
Seth remained silent but watched C.W. carefully.
“Nora,” said C.W. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
He led her to a far corner and said, in a low voice, “Do you know who could have done this?”
“No. Some local robber, I guess.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t a robbery. Your pearls are still there, right on top of your bureau. And the TV. This wasn’t the job of your everyday robber.”
Nora’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. The ledger!”
C.W.’s eyes were calm. “It’s in my cabin. I checked.” He drew her farther away from the others. “So, you think they were after the ledger too?”
Nora’s knees felt weak. She leaned against the wall with a sigh of resignation. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Some goons ripped apart our apartment right after Mike died. They want that ledger.”
And they want me, C.W. thought, grinding his teeth. His phone calls to New York had led them here. It had to be.
Nora looked up at C.W. She had never seen him so angry. He looked as if he was ready to kill.
“Nora, who do you think wants that ledger? Any names?”
Her face hardened. “Charles Blair. Who else?”
He studied the contempt so clear in her flashing eyes. Unadulterated hatred. And misplaced.
“Go on up,” C.W. said, his voice controlled but weary. “No one is there now and they won’t return.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nora.”
“You’re sorry? Whatever for?”
/>
His eyes flickered and he dropped his hand. “It’s a mess up there. I’ll do your chores. You’d better get started.”
“I’ll help,” called Esther when Nora started to leave.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
When they left, C.W. leaned against the barn wall, eyes shut. He was a fool to put the hounds on the trail. Bastards. The ante was up; they knew where he was and what he knew. They didn’t, however, know for sure if there was proof. He ran his hand through his hair. This was a damned dirty campaign.
Someone tapped his shoulder. C.W. jerked his head up and opened his eyes in time to catch Seth jab a digit toward the exit. Without a break in his stride, the old man kept chugging out of the barn to the tractor. There, he leaned against the green metal, pushed back his visor, and waited.
C.W. followed with long strides and faced him squarely—no head bobbing, no wayward glances.
“Expecting unwelcome company, Charley?”
“One never knows what to expect.”
Seth nodded. “Yeh-up. Other than death and cold winters.” He turned his gaze to the mountains. “If you got problems I need know about, I’d appreciate you lettin’ me know.”
C.W. leaned against the large curved fender and rested one boot atop the other. “I can deal with any trouble that comes, I assure you, Seth.”
“Don’t seem that way. You got trouble with the law?”
C.W. emitted a short laugh. “If it were only so easy.”
“Well, who’re ya runnin’ from?”
“My family.” It sounded childish, even to himself.
Seth guffawed. “Who isn’t?” He slapped his knee. “Might as well stop running. They always find you.” When C.W. didn’t reply, he added, “Never took you for the kind’a man that was tied to the apron strings.”
“I’m not,” he barked. It was a knee-jerk reaction and he felt guilty for cutting Seth off. “It’s not my family I’m running from, it’s the business we’re in.” He sighed. “What can I say? You know I was on Wall Street. Well, I ran a bank—my bank. We bought and sold businesses not just for the money but for the power. People got hurt who didn’t need to…” The words trailed off.
Seth stood there, staring out over the fields, ruminating the confession with the bored look of a sheep.
“Are you listening?”
“Yeh-up. I hear you. Ain’t nothin’ to say.”
“How about that I’ve lied to you, pretended to be a hired hand.”
“You are a hired hand. Best I ever hired. Way I see it, you never talked about your past and I never asked. That ain’t lying. That’s keepin’ to yourself.”
C.W. leaned back against the tractor and joined Seth in staring out over the fields. For a while, neither spoke.
“When my father died,” C.W. began at last, “I became head of the family, and the family business. I was never asked if it was what I chose to do. It was assumed. I had my duty to fulfill, and I fulfilled it beyond anyone’s expectations.
“I could be as cold and calculating as the best of them. MacKenzie and I were a lot alike, except that he enjoyed it and I, eventually anyway, didn’t.”
“That’d be right,” Seth agreed. “So, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is there’s trouble at the bank, and it’s somehow tied up with MacKenzie.”
Seth hoisted up his pants. “You ain’t spying on the missus, are you, son? That why you here?”
He let his head fall back as he took a deep breath. “No, that’s not why I’m here, and yes, I do need information from Nora. Believe me, Seth, I would never hurt her. In fact, I can help her. But my feelings for her and my duty to the bank are all tangled up.”
He drew a deep breath, deciding. “Seth, I have to go back to New York, right away…tomorrow. It’s time to settle my accounts. But I won’t stay there. I don’t belong there anymore.” He shook his head. “The question is, where do I belong?”
Seth kicked a few stones. “Son, God gave each of us a field. It’s our job to find a way to live in it.”
“It’s hard to live in a field that one doesn’t belong in.”
“Life is hard, son. But it don’t have to dictate how you live. A man’s got to work out his own system. He’s got to make it work in a way that gives him satisfaction but don’t rile everyone else.”
Seth rubbed his chin, then moved his hand over to scratch behind his ear in thought. “I wanted to die when my Liza did. And my boy. But I learnt you can’t run from life. We enter and exit one by one. It’s all we got. And I like knowin’ the sun’s going to rise in the morning and set in the evening and who really cares whether I believe it rises on an earth that’s flat or round? I do my work, help my neighbors, keep the kids straight and true. I miss wakin’ up to my Liza, though. No doubt about that.” He sighed heavily, and C.W. sensed the loneliness of the old widower.
“But,” Seth concluded with a slap on his knee. “I’ll see her and Tom again when my own time comes.” He rested his hand atop C.W.’s shoulder in a rare show of physical affection.
“Find your field, son.”
22
NORA PICKED UP the broken china, carefully examining each piece to see if she could repair it. Chest drawers and boxes and books were strewn across the floor, which was littered high with practically everything she owned. The assassins, as Nora called the thieves, had a hurried search. Their target was obvious. Too obvious, Nora thought. They were trying to frighten her.
Well, they did not succeed, she told herself, rolling up her sleeves.
Esther and Nora worked together in the house as they did in the barn, efficiently and without idle gossip. Nora felt intensely violated by the robbery, and it was comfortable having Esther here with her now. They had reached an accord through their painting, and at times like this, Nora even ventured that she had a friend. She watched Esther lift up a huge box and carry it down the stairs.
Nora took the chance to sneak quickly up to her closet. She pulled out several dresses and pairs of shoes and added them to the piles already heaped across the floor. She cast aside a few pieces of luggage and grabbed a small tapestry suitcase from the rear of the closet. Unzipping it, she flipped up the lid.
“Thank God!” she exclaimed, releasing a long sigh. Mike’s papers were still there. It was the ledger the thieves had been looking for, but these papers, memos, and his diary would surely have been taken if found.
“Anything missing?” asked Esther as she came up behind Nora.
“No,” Nora replied, flipping the lid shut and zipping it. “Everything is here. Either those bozos were lazy or I scared them out when I came back early.”
“I hate to think they were here when you were.”
“I don’t want to think about that. Lord,” she said, wrapping her arms around her bended knees, “I’m so tired, I don’t want to think about anything else tonight.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Nora. You’ve worked so hard, and now this.”
“It could have been worse, but thanks.”
Their eyes met and they smiled.
“Here,” Esther said, handing Nora a padded envelope. “Found this on the table. It’s from New York.”
Nora set the envelope beside her without looking at it. “It’s probably more paperwork. It can wait.” She shifted her gaze to Esther. “Speaking of work,” said Nora, “I appreciate the way you’ve been teaching me your jobs.”
“I never liked to do them anyway.”
“That’s hard to believe. You’re good. I could spend a lifetime here and still not know as much as you do.”
“I doubt it,” Esther said. “You’re learning about things I don’t know beans about. You see, the difference is you want to know about this stuff. I know it because I lived it, but it’s a drag. Pa gets real angry at me, though he doesn’t say it. I’ve seen the way he watches you work. He knows you love it, same as him. Same as C.W.”
“And you.”
“Me? No. I stay because Pa need
s me here. Never wants any of us kids to leave the farm. But I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m chained here, and if I just pull hard enough, the link to him will break and I’ll be free.” She sighed. “I used to watch you all pack up and leave at the end of summer—God, I envied you when I saw your packed luggage, ready to go.”
Esther’s voice trailed off as her gaze fell to her boots.
“Remember how once you told me you wished you knew what you were good at?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, now you know. Sad thing is, the table’s turned. Now I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? You still have your talent.”
Esther leaned back against the wall, arms tight across her chest. “I have nothing.”
It shocked Nora to see her lip tremble. Esther, who never revealed a chink in her armor.
“I know about the school. I’m sorry.”
“It might all be for the good. Kinda knocked the dreams right out of me, you know? I can go back to John Henry now, if he’ll have me. Get married. Have kids. Do what’s expected.” Her eyebrows lowered over her closed eyes and clenched lips.
“Esther, don’t,” Nora said with deathly cold. “Don’t marry a man you don’t love. You will regret it. I know.”
Esther stared at her wagging boot.
“I might have another choice to offer you. I’ve made some calls to New York, to contacts I have in the art business, and who knows? Something might turn up. Hang in there awhile longer.”
Esther’s mouth fell open. “You did that for me?”
“I’ve done nothing, yet. Unfortunately, I can’t offer you financial help. Contacts I have. Money I don’t.”
“I’ll get it from somewhere,” Esther replied, full of enthusiasm. “I have some saved. At least enough to get me there and settled. I heard how expensive things are in New York.”
“It’s true.” How ironic life was, Nora thought. This was one of the times having money would be fun, not to hoard it in a bank but to give it to someone who really needed it.
“Talk to your pa and Aunt May. I think they have a few ideas on that.”
The Long Road Home Page 23