Even Chad was surprised at her attitude. “You can’t have children?”
“No. But who wants the messy little things anyway?”
Chad put a hand on her arm. “You sure it doesn’t matter to you? This is partly my fault, Elly.”
Oh, how she loved him blaming himself! Nothing had changed. She had a new hold on him. “I know. But I don’t blame you, Chad. It takes two to make a baby.” She looked him over. “You do seem to be good at that.”
The suggestive remark stirred his neglected needs, reminded him Elly was one who always had been good at showing him he was indeed a man who could perform the way a man should, a man who could bring out the lust in any woman, except Irene. His failure with Irene ate at him, as if it were a cancer.
“Let’s see now—that’s three babies you’ve made and lost. There was Susan Stanner, and me, and now Irene. Who knows how many others?”
He felt his defenses rising. Damn her! She had always gone down easy for him, like most of the others; but he had had the upper hand with the others. If only she wasn’t Irene’s sister. “I never admitted to being Susan’s lover, Elly. That one is all in your head.”
“Oh, Chad, it was years ago. Why keep lying about it? Besides, who cares anymore?” She smiled and put her arms back around his neck. “I just wanted you to know what I went through, for you. I couldn’t have that baby. What if he or she grew up to look like you?”
“I’m sorry for what you must have gone through,” he told her.
“Now it’s your turn.” She traced a finger across his mouth. “What really happened with Irene?”
How he hated her insight. She was the only person who even came close to really understanding his character. “Where did you get all this sly wisdom?” he asked.
She grinned. “I learned at a young age to watch people, use them—just like you do. I’ve never been the favored one in the family, Chad. When that happens, you learn to watch out for yourself. You learn how to defend yourself, how to get what you want even when someone else has all the advantages. You’re like that, too, aren’t you?”
He sighed. “You’ve always known me too well.” He folded his arms. “All right. I’ll tell you the truth. Irene caught me with Milicent Delaney. She ran out, and when I tried to grab her she fell. It’s going to take her a long time to get over it. She blames me for losing the baby, and I blame myself. Believe it or not, I do feel bad about it.”
She put her hands on her hips. “About being caught, you mean.”
He grinned. “Yes. But I really did want her to have that baby.”
“Because it would make the marriage look better, give Irene a reason not to leave you?”
He shrugged. “I need this marriage, Elly. I like my position with K-E. You know that.”
“Well, what Irene neglects to give you, I’ll make up for, now that I’m back. You won’t need Milicent Delaney.” She burst out laughing then. “Milicent! Chad, you devil! She’s married and has two or three children!”
He shrugged. “I had to do something. You weren’t here, and things were getting tight. I had to put on a show of coming home every night. There wasn’t time to visit the red light district. Milicent was right there handy. I always knew she wanted me. It was easy.”
She came closer and ran her hand over his arms. “It’s always easy for you. One look at you and a woman has a terrible desire to pull up her skirts.”
Their eyes held, and he knew she was already eager to renew their affair. He met her mouth in another hot kiss. It had always been easy for him to overlook her body, her plain looks. He needed the reassurance of his manhood that Elly was always best at feeding. He left her lips and kissed at her neck. “You staying here at the hotel?”
“Yes,” she almost groaned. “Mother sent me here to work with you. Isn’t that delicious? Eventually she intends for me and John to take over down here and for you to go back to Denver. But John won’t be here for a couple of months yet, and with Irene staying at the ranch, it’s just you and me, Chad. We can go to each other’s rooms every night if we want. We’re free, Chad. I can’t even get pregnant!”
He met her lips again, this time more savagely. Irene had not let him near her in months. The child in him could not handle the rejection. Elly knew how to soothe that little boy. It was as though she had never left.
Winter moved down the mountains and onto the plains, and Irene often awakened to a soft blanket of snow on the ground. Sometimes the buffalo grass and sage would have little caps of snow on them, but usually the snow disappeared as quickly as it came. No matter what the weather, Irene went outside every day and exercised her horses. She had five now, one good stud and four mares. Two of the mares were pregnant.
The first horse she had purchased from Hank had been the one he had brought to her. She called the mare Sunrise, and she was beginning to cherish the animal as much as she had cherished Sierra. She often helped the hired hands with cleaning stables, currying the horses, shoveling feed. She enjoyed the work, and the men who worked for her gained a new respect for the Kirkland name. They had heard stories about her tyrant of a mother, and had expected the daughter to be the same. But Irene was surprisingly different, and beautiful as well.
Irene was beginning to resign herself to the fact that her marriage would probably never be what it should be. Sometimes she went to Colorado Springs for a weekend, and sometimes Chad came home; but she still had not been able to let him make love to her, no matter how sweet he tried to be to her. As long as he refused to talk about his inner problems, refused to talk about the baby, as long as he continued to act as though nothing had changed, she found it difficult to love and forgive him, much as she wished that she could.
Her loneliness had led her to begin relying too much on her friendship with Hank. She could not help comparing Hank to Chad. He was so much more solid and dependable. She and Hank had so much in common. Hank was a good man, through and through. There was nothing vain or deceitful about him. She thought how much like Ramon he was in many ways.
She had seen a lot of Hank over the past several months. He had shown her the boundaries of the B&K, had explained the business of breeding and raising cattle, had sold her the beautiful horses that now pranced in her corral. In many ways, Hank had helped her get back to living and surviving, had helped her bear the loss of her child.
It was becoming more difficult to think of Hank as just a friend, and her feelings frightened her. She and Chad were growing farther apart, and he seldom came to the ranch. He stayed busier than ever, especially now that both Elly and John were back and needing Chad to teach-them the ropes of the southern branch of K-E.
She still worried about John. He was twenty-one now, a tall, handsome young man. There was a distant loneliness in his eyes, and Irene noticed when he visited the ranch over Christmas with Bea and Kirk and Elly that John was still a heavy drinker. She knew he had never been happy and had sometimes wondered if he would ever come back home once he went off to college.
“Mother doesn’t understand how much you love it here, does she?” John told Irene in the kitchen Christmas Eve. Irene had cooked the entire meal herself, Bea fuming and fussing that there was no reason for one of her daughters to be working like a “little slave.” The woman had complained that Irene should have built a much bigger house, that she should come back to Denver, that she should stop working around her horses as if she were a common ranch hand, that she and Chad should be together more so that Irene would get pregnant again. The woman had no idea of the emotional pain her daughter was suffering.
Irene smiled at her brother, setting a pie on the table. “There are a lot of things most people don’t understand about me,” Irene answered.
“All Mother understands is making money.” John slugged down a shot of whiskey. “I tried to open my own law firm back East, Irene. Did Mother tell you that? I never wrote to tell you. I wanted to wait to see if I would succeed.”
She sat down at the table with him, while Bea, El
ly, and Chad talked business in the dining room, and Kirk walked outside for a smoke. She could see John was already feeling his whiskey. “Mother never told me,” she said.
“Probably because I failed. I lost a really important case that involved a big company. They blackballed me. On top of that, Mother sent me a letter telling me that if I didn’t come back and work for K-E like her good little son, she would cut me off. Told me she didn’t spend all that money sending me to school just to have me desert the family. I was ordered back home, and considering my big flop as a lawyer, I figured what the hell, I might as well come.” He leaned closer. “You want to know Mother’s first words when I got back home?”
She put a hand over his. “John, don’t do this. Mother thinks she is doing what’s best for her children. She doesn’t understand—”
“‘So, the prodigal son returns,’” he interrupted. “That’s the first thing she said. ‘How dare you squander your education on something other than this company I have built for you!’” He picked up a bottle of bourbon he had carried with him to the kitchen and poured himself another shot. “Nothing about missing me, being glad to see me back. No hug.” He swallowed the drink. “But, what the hell? I’m a big boy now.”
Irene squeezed his hand. “I love you, John. I missed you very much, and I’m very glad to see you back.”
He smiled bitterly. “I wonder sometimes if you really have any of Mother’s blood in you. You’re too good to be a Kirkland. Now Elly—there’s a Kirkland! She’s going to be a worse tyrant than Mother ever was. You notice that?”
Irene could not help feeling disappointed at how Elly acted toward her. It was obvious Elly all but hated her, and she could not imagine why she should. Since coming back from school she was more haughty and bossy than ever. “Yes,” she answered. “Elly has always had a problem trying to fit in, trying to win glory in Mother’s eyes.”
“That’s where we’re different. I don’t really give a damn what Mother thinks of me. I’m just here for the ride, Irene. I’ll never amount to anything on my own, so I’ll tag along on the coattails of K-E.”
“You shouldn’t talk that way, John. You’re a handsome, intelligent young man. You’ll find your own way someday, but it won’t happen if you don’t stop the heavy drinking.”
He snickered and shook his head. “Whiskey is what gets me through the day. I can handle it just fine.” He sighed and rubbed at his head. “I’m real sorry about the baby, Irene.”
“I know you are, and thank you…I’d better get in there with the pie.”
Chad came into the kitchen then, offering to help carry the pies, again putting on a show of being the doting husband. Kirk came back inside and everyone ate pie and opened presents. Chad sat next to Irene and presented her with diamond earrings, kissing her cheek when he gave them to her.
Irene wondered if he really thought that material things could make up for what he had done. She thought of Ramon’s carved horse and the beautiful Indian blanket Hank had given her two days ago, gifts that held much more love and meaning than anything Chad had ever given her. Elly watched Chad hang over Irene and wanted to laugh. He was so clever at putting on the charm for others to see. She didn’t mind that he paid attention only to his wife for the moment. She knew whose bed he would be sleeping in once they got back to Colorado City.
John in turn watched Elly. He had noticed a few things, certain looks Elly and Chad exchanged at times, the way they often found excuses to work late in town. He liked Chad. He didn’t want to think the worst, but he had never forgotten Irene’s apparent unhappiness when she came home from her short honeymoon. Now she had lost a baby, and at a time when she and Chad should be closer than ever, they were living apart most of the time. Something was wrong somewhere, but he was too lost in his own world of whiskey and failure to get involved.
Bellies full, weary from a long day and evening, everyone retired: Elly, Bea, and Kirk to the two guest rooms, John sprawled drunk on a leather couch. Irene undressed in the bathing room, unable to bring herself to undress in front of Chad. She wondered if her aching weariness came more from a long day of cooking or from pretending—pretending to be the happy wife, pretending it had been a wonderful Christmas.
It seemed everyone was pretending things were what they were not, and most of the pretending was for Bea Kirkland’s sake. Elly was trying so hard to win her mother’s favor. Kirk remained the quiet, obliging man, although things did seem a little better between her parents ever since the incident with the railroad. And John, pretending his own happiness, losing himself in whiskey.
She came into the bedroom to find Chad waiting for her in their bed. He smiled. “It’s time we let bygones be bygones, Irene. I’ve paid my dues. It’s been a long time.”
Their eyes held, and all she could see was his naked body groveling over Milicent Delaney. Again she reluctantly found herself comparing him to men like Ramon…and Hank. Hank had been on her mind a lot this Christmas. She was sorry he was spending Christmas Eve alone, knew how hard it must be for him. He still grieved for his wife. Somehow she could not imagine Chad grieving for long over her if something happened to her. When she looked at Chad she saw only a shallow little boy. She could not even see him as a man.
She pulled on her robe. “Are you trying to tell me that when you’re gone for weeks at a time you’re sleeping alone, Chad,” she answered. “I see no change at all. You’ve made no effort to prove anything to me, least of all that you love me and are being faithful to me.” She tied her robe and walked to the door. “Just go to sleep, Chad. I’m going to the kitchen for some tea.”
She left the room, and Chad slammed a hard fist into her pillow.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Where it began and where it would end, Irene was not sure. She only knew that when she was riding with Hank she was happy, happier than she had been in years. He filled many roles that were missing in her life—father, brother, friend—everything but lover. In spite of what Chad had done to her, she still could not allow herself to act on some of the baser feelings Hank stirred deep in her soul, emotions and desires that before now only Ramon had awakened in her, except that her feelings for Ramon were even more intense, had been more immediate, and she had loved him secretly for so long.
Now there was not even Ramon to talk to. She realized Hank had simply come into her life at a time when she felt desperately alone and disillusioned. She loved him as a friend, a good, dear friend. She loved him out of an empty need. But she loved him as secretly as she loved Ramon, for she was still a married woman, frail as that marriage might be. Hank respected her, never made a wrong move or a wrong suggestion; but she could read his provocative green eyes. She saw the desire there, felt his own loneliness.
Spring of 1870 came early, and it was roundup time on the Lazy L as well as the B&K. Irene needed the activity, and against Chad’s vehement arguments, she insisted on helping with the roundup. She wanted to know everything she could about the ranch, loved every aspect of this kind of life. To the surprise of the hired help, Irene Kirkland Jacobs rode as well as any of them, learned how to herd a steer in the right direction, ate and slept in the open country right along with the best of them.
She was an expert rider and even learned how to use a rope. It was Hank who taught her everything, Hank who stood behind her and held her arms to show her the proper way to swing a rope. They saw each other nearly every day for several weeks, and Hank grew to admire Irene’s courage and strength, her skillful riding, her willingness to work as hard as the men. She was everything a man like himself could want in a woman, but she was married. It tore at his guts like a knife. He knew she wasn’t happy, but she had never explained in detail what was wrong.
They were becoming dangerously close, more than just friends. He knew she had to be perfectly aware he was falling in love with her, and he knew her feelings for him were mutual. It was all left unsaid, but it was there, nonetheless.
Irene felt the same helpless attraction. It
had actually been there for years. Was it possible to love more than one man? She would never stop loving Ramon, never. He would always be her first love. But in her lonely, desperate state, these last few months it had been Hank Loring who had been her salvation. His attention, his efforts at keeping her busy, had helped her through the moments when she even considered taking her life.
She helped with the branding, failing to cringe the way the men thought she would. She cooked a big meal for the hired hands, using Hank’s own kitchen. Hank had a lovely home, a sprawling, stucco structure much like her own. Inside, there remained remnants of another woman’s decorating and furnishing, and Hank talked often about his wife and daughter, showed her their graves. When she had seen the terrible sorrow in his eyes, she had grasped his hand, and he squeezed hers in return.
They needed no words. They knew what was happening, and neither one of them did anything to try to stop it. It felt too good to both of them to find such a pleasant friendship, such a wonderful relief from the loneliness. They shared so much, especially their love of horses and riding. They found it easy to talk to each other, and Hank was beginning to realize he had loved Irene Jacobs just a little ever since the first day he set eyes on her. Now he loved her more, and he saw himself headed down a pathway of unavoidable hurt, but just as Irene was doing, he galloped ahead full speed.
Chad stretched out on his back, nearly worn out from Elly’s insatiable appetite for him. Elly raised up on one elbow, her dark, waist-length hair hanging thin and straight over her shoulders as she leaned down to kiss at his chest. He thought how she reminded him of a witch, and she was indeed exactly that.
“We’ve got to be a little more careful,” Chad told her. “John has been giving us some strange looks lately. I think he suspects something.”
“John is too drunk most of the time to notice. All he cares about is where his next bottle is going to come from.”
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