Malachite

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Malachite Page 2

by Ruth Ryan Langan


  Ruby shook her head, sending auburn curls dancing. “The way our family is growing, I could spend all my time just keeping us in clothes. In the past year I have made over a dozen gowns just for my sisters alone.”

  “None of them as pretty as this.” Millie smoothed her hands down the softly gathered skirt of her brand-new russet velvet gown, which Ruby had forced on her. “It’s far too fine for me. I’ll be in debt to you forever, Ruby.”

  “Nonsense. I told you it was a gift.”

  “It’s far too expensive a gift. I never should have accepted it.”

  “If it will make you feel better, you can pay me back by allowing Quent and me to take some of our meals at your boardinghouse.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll expect you to start coming around at least once a week,” Millie said.

  The two walked up to Pearl, who was holding baby Amber and engaged in quiet conversation with Jade’s husband, Reverend Dan Simpson, just as Diamond also joined the group. Despite the fact that this was a special occasion, she was dressed in her usual buckskins and boots. “Oh, Dan, that was such a beautiful service. I got all teary-eyed thinking about how much Pa would have loved it.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw her infant son pull himself up at the edge of a table and reach for a glass of his father’s whiskey. In one smooth motion she snatched him up and handed him off to Adam. “Keep an eye on little Onyx or Carmelita will have his hide.”

  “The way she dotes on him? Not a chance.” Adam grinned and held the baby easily in the crook of his arm while he continued a conversation with the others.

  The Jewel family had gathered at the big ranch to celebrate the christening of Amber, Pearl and Cal’s baby daughter.

  “Wasn’t she an angel through the service?” Pearl’s pride in her infant was so sweet and so obvious the others merely smiled. For this special occasion the new mother wore a pale pink gown. Her long blond hair had been pulled back with mother-of-pearl combs, framing a delicate face.

  “Not when Reverend Dan dunked her in that water,” little Daniel said. He and his brother, Gil, who had been adopted by Pearl and Cal, hovered around the baby like mother hens, touching her, staring at her as though they still couldn’t believe she was real.

  “I thought Daniel was going to have a fit right in front of the whole congregation when she started squalling,” Gil said with a laugh.

  “You were none too pleased yourself,” Cal teased. Everyone laughed, while Gil, fifteen and as tall as the men, blushed.

  Pearl took pity on her two sons. “Would one of you like to hold her for a while?”

  “I will,” Gil shouted.

  “I will,” Daniel echoed at the same moment.

  “Gil first,” Pearl said gently. “And then Daniel. But bring her to me when she gets fitful.”

  The two boys crossed to a sofa pulled in front of the fireplace and settled down side by side to coax smiles from the cooing infant.

  “Did you hear about one of Lem White’s ranch hands?” Cal’s tone lowered so the children wouldn’t hear. “Got it in his head to chase that devil mustang. They found him dead up on Widow’s Peak.”

  There was a long silence. The festivities had chilled by degrees.

  “That horse is a devil.” Byron Conner glanced around the group, studying the grim faces. “As long as he runs free, there will be more deaths. And more ranches failing. And heaven knows what other bad luck will come our way.”

  “That’s crazy,” Diamond said.

  “Is it?” Byron drained his glass. “How many wranglers does that make who have died chasing that devil?”

  He saw heads nodding and added, “And how do you explain little Jimmy Burgess? One minute he’s playing in the school yard. He spots that black stallion on a hillside, and the next minute he’s dead.”

  “Doc Prentice said he was born with a weakness in his heart. Doc thinks all that talk about the mustang being a devil scared poor little Jimmy to death.”

  “Maybe,” Byron said. “And maybe that stallion really is a devil, with a devil’s powers.”

  Millie Potter shivered. “Really. All this talk is just so... terrifying.” She colored slightly as she saw Byron turn to study her.

  Carmelita entered, wiping her hands on her apron. “Supper is ready. And I have made so much, I hope you are all hungry.”

  “We’re starving for some of your hot spices,” Cal said, grateful for the interruption. It was well-known that Pearl, though she’d adjusted to her husband’s love of spicy food, still preferred bland meals that reminded her of the way her proper Boston mother used to cook.

  Diamond and Adam, holding little Ony, led the way to the big formal dining room, which was rarely used. Usually when this big, raucous family came together, they preferred the scarred table and rough-hewn chairs of the kitchen.

  Behind them walked Pearl and Cal McCabe, trailed by Daniel and Gil, holding baby Amber.

  Jade and Dan Simpson held hands and were followed by Ruby and Quent Regan, who still behaved like newlyweds, whispering and touching.

  Byron Conner gallantly offered his arm, and Millie had no choice but to accept.

  At the table Byron held her chair. The women sat on one side, the men on the other, with Gil and Daniel at one end and little Ony at the other.

  As Carmelita bustled in and out carrying trays of steaming food, Millie said, “I’ve never seen your housekeeper so happy.”

  “Oui.” Ruby giggled. “I think for a while she was feeling very left out because we had all moved on to homes of our own. But now, with children, and more on the way, she realizes that we have not really left. Heaven knows she will be needed for a very long time. This big ranch house of Papa’s is still the heart of our family. We could never completely abandon it. Or Carmelita.”

  When they had filled their plates, they all caught hands around the table. And as Dan led them in prayer, Diamond happened to glance up at the tintype of her father and mother hanging above the breakfront.

  For a moment she felt a sharp tug at her heart. “Oh, Pa,” she whispered. “How you must love seeing all your children together at last.”

  * * *

  Cookie stepped out of the bunkhouse and paused to hold a match to the pipe clenched between his teeth. He sucked until the tobacco caught, then blew out a rich cloud of smoke.

  From the big ranch house came the sounds of muted voices and laughter. He walked to the corral and leaned against the rail, smiling in the fading light of early evening. It was good to see so much life in the Jewel ranch again. He shook his head in wonder. Who’d have believed that he’d live to see another generation of Jewels? How Onyx would have loved all this.

  He idly rubbed his sore leg, knowing by the pain that a storm was brewing over the mountains. He hated to admit that his leg pained him more each year, and that sooner or later he’d have to give up what he loved most in life—cooking for the cowboys, especially taking the chuck wagon out on the trails. He’d always told Onyx he wanted to die with his boots on and the sweet smell of grub roasting on the fire.

  What fine adventures he’d had with Onyx through the years. He missed that man every day.

  At a sound he swiveled his head, peering into the gathering darkness. Looming out of the shadows was a horseman.

  Cookie felt a shiver along his spine and realized he’d been careless. His rifle was back in the bunkhouse.

  He heaved away from the railing and managed to take one step before he was stopped cold by a voice that whispered across his nerves. It wasn’t just the deep timbre. Or the ring of authority. It was the voice itself. As familiar as yesterday.

  “I was told this was the Jewel ranch.”

  Cookie swallowed and gave a barely perceptible nod of his head. The horseman nudged his mount closer. Just then the clouds parted, and in the moonlight he was clearly visible.

  “I’m here to see Onyx Jewel.”

  Cookie found himself looking at a ghost from the past. Staring in openmouthed surprise at the
face of a man he’d met and befriended almost thirty years earlier. But that was impossible.

  “What in tarnation... ? Who... ?” His mouth opened. The pipe dropped and fell, unnoticed, to the ground. For the space of several seconds he couldn’t find his voice. Then, turning on his heel, he sprinted in an uneven gait, covering the distance from the corral to the ranch house in a matter of minutes. And all the while he was shouting at the top of his lungs, though the words were coming so hard and fast they were completely unintelligible.

  * * *

  It was Pearl who heard him first. Perhaps it was because she was a new mother and her ears were attuned to the slightest sound from baby Amber. But just as she lifted her head, Adam and Cal pushed back from the table, their hands automatically going to the guns at their hips.

  Marshal Quent Regan was the first one at the door, gun in hand, when Cookie pushed his way inside.

  “You aren’t going to believe this,” the old man shouted. By now everyone had left the table and gathered around the doorway.

  Struggling to catch his breath, Cookie pointed outside. Everyone turned to study the horseman. He slid from the saddle and strode up the steps. Even in the darkness it was plain that he was tall and lean, and walked with a measured, purposeful gait. As he approached, he studied those gathered in the light of the lanterns, searching the face of every man.

  His tone was rough with impatience. “I’m here to see Onyx Jewel.”

  As he drew close enough to be caught in the light spilling from the room, he heard the women suck in their breath. One of them, holding a little boy to her heart, actually let out a cry.

  “Sweet heaven, it’s...” Diamond turned and buried her face against the shoulder of the man beside her.

  That caused the others to react in like manner. Pearl lowered her head and began to weep. Cal stood beside her, awkwardly patting her shoulder while he stared at the ghostly specter. Jade, with both hands pressed to her swollen middle, had to be supported by her husband. Ruby clutched Quent’s hand and began babbling in a mixture of French and Cajun. A pitcher of cream slipped from Carmelita’s fingers and crashed on the floor, but she took no notice as she lifted her apron to her eyes and began to chant and pray aloud in Spanish.

  Seeing the confusion, Millie Potter gathered her courage and stepped forward. After all, these were her friends. And this was an extraordinary situation. One she wouldn’t believe, if she hadn’t witnessed it with her own eyes.

  “I... hope you’ll forgive our reaction. We don’t usually treat strangers like this. But you’ve given us quite a shock. You see, you’re the image of Onyx Jewel.”

  Malachite rounded on her. At some other time he might have remembered his manners and removed his hat. Or offered polite conversation. But the painful death of his mother, the long miles in the saddle and the years of anger had taken their toll and brought him near the boiling point. He wanted nothing now but to see this ugly, hated thing through to its conclusion.

  “I need no reminder of how I look. I’ve paid the price of Onyx Jewel’s legacy for a lifetime. Now all I want is to see him. Man to man. Call him out here and tell him that his bastard son—” he spat the hated name “—Malachite Jewel, is here.”

  That set up another round of wailing. Millie watched helplessly as Diamond, sobbing against Adam’s shoulder, was helped to a chair. Cal handed the baby to Gil, then scooped Pearl up in his arms and carried her toward the fire. Dan insisted that Jade recline on the sofa. And Ruby, white and shaken, was led inside by Quent. Carmelita stood rooted to the spot, tears streaming down her cheeks as she recited a litany of Spanish prayers.

  None of them seemed capable of getting beyond their emotions to offer a word of welcome or to acknowledge that they were, indeed, family. They were all too stunned by his uncanny resemblance to Onyx Jewel.

  Squaring her shoulders, Millie said, “Malachite... won’t you come inside? We were just having supper. Perhaps you’ll join us.”

  Malachite’s anger grew. These people were making no sense. Were they all touched in the head? “I have no time for food, woman.”

  “Coffee, then,” she said, feeling completely helpless.

  Cookie hadn’t moved. The banker, Byron Conner, was staring around at the chaos with a look of utter disbelief. Because he was a newcomer to this part of the country, he had no idea what was going on. He knew only that this stranger’s arrival had brought the fine celebration to an abrupt end.

  “Why are you wasting my time?” Malachite said through clenched teeth. “Are you afraid to summon Onyx Jewel?” He took a menacing step inside, glancing around the sumptuous room.

  Millie backed up, then lifted her chin. She wasn’t about to let this stranger intimidate her, no matter what he called himself or how much he looked like the man he’d come seeking. “Afraid?” she demanded. “Why would we be afraid?”

  Malachite couldn’t keep the fire, the heat from his tone.

  “Because you know Onyx Jewel will be embarrassed at having to acknowledge a bastard.”

  “That does it.” Millie’s eyes shot sparks, and her chin jutted as she put her hands on her hips. “Look around you. Are you blind? Can’t you see what you’ve done?”

  “I’ve disturbed your evening. But don’t expect an apology. After all, Onyx Jewel disturbed more than my evening. He disturbed my whole life and that of my mother. Now call him, woman, or I’ll shout down this house and everyone in it.”

  Millie’s anger spilled over, and she didn’t bother to hide it. This rude, crude man had spoiled little Amber’s celebration and had sent the entire Jewel family into a state of shock. It was all this talk about Diablo, the devil horse. It had everybody in Hanging Tree spooked.

  “Go ahead, then,” she taunted. “Shout down the entire house. But that won’t bring back Onyx Jewel. Unless you know how to raise a man from the grave.”

  She saw Malachite flinch. Saw the way his eyes narrowed, as though he’d taken a blow to the midsection. She could almost feel sorry for him. Almost, but not quite. After all, he lacked even the most basic manners.

  For long moments Malachite stood ramrod straight, absorbing the pain the only way he knew how. Stoically. Unwilling to let the enemy see a weakness.

  He had come so far. Endured so much. And all because he’d needed to look into his father’s eyes, just once, and confront him with the fact of his existence. And his abandonment.

  And now his quest was over. But he’d been denied the prize. He would never have the satisfaction of seeing his father’s face. Of hearing his voice. Of unleashing this lifetime of frustration.

  When at last he spoke, his voice was controlled, revealing none of the emotion that churned in his gut. “Tell me where you have buried him. I intend to visit his grave. And then I’ll leave his land and bother him, and you, no more.”

  Chapter Two

  It was Diamond who managed to pull herself together first. Getting to her feet, she muttered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. Ever since little Ony was born, I get all weak and weepy. Like a damned silly female.”

  “Maybe that’s because you are a female.” Adam smiled gently as he kissed her cheek. “But you’re not a silly one. You’re just sensitive.”

  “We all know I’m about as sensitive as a mule.” She drew away and crossed the room to stand beside Millie, facing the stranger. But the closer she got to him, the harder her heart started pounding. She couldn’t help it. Just looking at this man was like looking at her father.

  She forced herself to stick out her hand and offer a proper welcome. “Sorry for the way I acted. My name’s Diamond. I’m Onyx Jewel’s daughter. And these other three—” she indicated Pearl, Jade and Ruby as she introduced them “—are my sisters.”

  Sisters. The word shook him to the core. He hadn’t expected this. Wasn’t ready to accept it. He’d come for confrontation. To expel the demons that had festered for a lifetime. He’d come hoping for a knock-down-drag-out fight that would leave him bruised and bl
oody and somehow cleansed. He’d wanted to look a beast in the eye and then conquer it.

  Instead, he was meeting sisters. Half sisters, he corrected, determined to hate them as much as he hated their father.

  He accepted her handshake, then nodded a stiff acknowledgement to the others.

  “I don’t know why I should be surprised by this,” Diamond said with a shaky little laugh. “I always figured Pa’d have a few more surprises up his sleeve.”

  She felt suddenly awkward. This man was watching her with her father’s eyes. But he hadn’t said a word. And there was no way to tell by looking at him what he was thinking. He gave nothing away.

  To ease the situation she said, “This is my husband, Adam Winter. He and I live on the adjoining ranch.”

  The two men shook hands.

  Pearl regained her senses in time to say, “And this is my husband, Cal McCabe.”

  As the two men shook hands, Pearl added, “Cal is the foreman of Daddy’s ranch. We live in Daddy’s old cabin, across Poison Creek, where I’ve set up a schoolroom to teach the town’s children.”

  Daddy. The word grated. He’d never had anyone to answer to that name.

  “And this is my husband,” Jade said, forcing herself to show the proper respect. “The Reverend Dan Simpson.”

  Again there was a formal handshake and a cool appraisal.

  Malachite studied the man, who looked too tough, too trailwise to be a man of God. He had little use for such men. The ones he’d met preached one thing while they did another.

  “And this is my husband, Marshal Quent Regan.” Ruby linked her arm through Quent’s as they crossed the room. “We live in the town of Hanging Tree, above my dress shop.”

  Malachite shook the marshal’s hand in stiff, sullen silence. He’d dealt with enough lawmen in his time to want nothing more to do with them.

  Diamond turned. “This is our housekeeper, Carmelita Alvarez. She’s been keeping house for me since I was a baby.”

  Carmelita lowered the towel, damp with her tears, and offered a trembling hand.

  “You are the image of your father. I thought, when I first saw you, that it was Señor Jewel, back from the grave.”

 

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