Forever, Victoria

by Dorothy Garlock

  “I know, but I can’t let it come to that. He paid the money to Robert and has a deed and a clear title, or so he says. But I don’t care what he says he has. Mr. Schoeller said I was to stay here until he could look into the court records, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Victoria sounded more determined than she felt. Heartsick was the word that would have described her feelings better than any other.

  Ruby took the dishpan from her hand and hung it on the side of the house under the porch. “Course ya are. I never did have me no use—”

  A sound caught Victoria’s attention and put her feet in action. Someone was pounding on the keyboard of her spinet! The jarring, dissonant sound coming from the delicate instrument brought a lump of fear to her throat. The spinet, her father’s gift to her on her sixteenth birthday, was her most treasured possession. She ran down the hall and into the parlor.

  “Dora!” she shrieked. “Stop that!”

  From the light of the lamp on the round table Victoria could see the silk-fringed covering in a heap beneath Dora’s feet. She stood before the spinet beating on the keyboard with both hands. Startled, she turned and looked at Victoria, then impudently turned back and banged her fist down again. Victoria cringed at the harsh sound and rushed toward her.

  “Dora!” Mason’s voice thundered in the room and stopped Victoria before she could reach the child.

  Dora turned quickly and with a flip of her hand sent the cover of the instrument crashing down over the keys. Then, dragging the silk table scarf along the floor with her feet, she went toward her brother. Victoria stood as if in shock. She heard a swift intake of breath and realized it was her own.

  “Ain’t hers no more, Mason. I’ll be glad when she goes. I don’t like her. She don’t let me do nothin’.”

  Mason reached the child in two angry strides and lifted her bodily off the floor and away from the silk cloth. He set her down with a jar.

  “It is hers! Even if it wasn’t, you had no right to touch it because it’s not yours. See what you’ve done to this?” He picked up the scarf and held it up for her to see. Dora’s face remained mutinous.

  “I don’t think it’s pretty.” Her eyes rolled defiantly upward toward Victoria.

  “I’ll not have any sass out of you either, miss.” Mason swatted her on the rear. “Go get ready for bed. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Dora was visibly shaken by the swat, but refused to show it. She stomped off down the hall past Nellie who had come out of the kitchen.

  “What that youngun needs is her butt blistered!” Ruby stood with her hands on her hips, her red hair, streaked with gray, in disarray about her face.

  “No,” Nellie said gently. “She needs someone to love her. She’s been without since she was three years old.”

  Mason’s eyes couldn’t leave Victoria’s stricken face.

  Hot tears burst from between the thick lashes. She could no longer hold them back, though she strained every muscle with the effort. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice and if she moved she would topple into oblivion.

  “I’m sorry.” Mason said the words quietly and held out the scarf. Numbly, she took it from his hand. “I hope it isn’t damaged. I don’t know much about children, but I’m learning—fast. I’ll forbid her to come in here unless Nellie is with her.” He waited and when Victoria didn’t speak he went to the door. He looked back. She was staring toward a picture on the wall, her eyes glistening, her lips trembling.

  Ruby confronted Mason as soon as he stepped into the hall.

  “Now jist stand quiet. I want to see ya.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Ruby, that’s who.” She stood with her short arms folded across her ample bosom, her feet spread apart, and her head cocked to the side. She reminded Mason of a bantam rooster. She must have been a beauty when she was young, he thought. There were still traces of that beauty in her plump face. The mouth over her triple chins was set firmly and her lively, brown eyes were anything but friendly.

  “I’m Mason Mahaffey.”

  “I know who ya air. I wanted to see what ya looked like. I seed men come ’n’ go in this valley fer ten years ’n’ I learned to take a man’s measure by lookin’ him over.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, it ain’t goin’ ta be easy,” she said with a weary shake of her head. “Ya ain’t the kind a man ta back off, but it’s goin’ to make no never mind. We ain’t goin’ ta let ya take from our Victory.”

  “I was wonderin’ where ya got off to, Ruby.”

  The man who came out of the shadows at the end of the hall was big, thick in the waist, but deep in the chest with arms bulging with muscle. He was clean shaven and his gray hair was cut neatly along the back of his neck. He hung his hat on the hall tree and came down the hall to stand beside the woman, whose head didn’t even reach his shoulder.

  “Howdy, miss,” he said to Nellie who stood leaning against the wall. “I’d shore like to have me a cup of coffee, honeybunch, if’n Victory’s got any left in the pot,” he said to the top of Ruby’s head.

  “Shore, honey. My land, ever’ lamp in this here house is lit tonight. Don’t know’s I ever saw it so lit up ’cept on the night Mr. McKenna went ta his reward.”

  Mason moved around the couple and went to his sister. “Need help, Nellie?”

  “No. I’m just resting a minute before I go to my room.”

  “This is one of my sisters, Nellie Mahaffey,” Mason said to Stonewall. “You met my brothers earlier.”

  “Howdy, miss. Guess ya met Ruby.”

  “How do you do. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get out of the way.” Nellie’s eyes clung to her brother’s face.

  Mason watched her anxiously. “Will you be all right?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ll be fine.” The tremor in her voice belied her words. After several faltering steps she seemed to steady herself and moved down the hall. Mason never took his eyes from her until she disappeared into the bedroom.

  Victoria covered the spinet with the scarf after running her hands lovingly over the polished wood. She had found no cracks or chips on the ivory keys and as she had not heard the zing of a breaking string concluded no damage had been done. After blowing out the lamp, she stood with her hands clasped tightly together, her chin resting on the knot they made. More than anything in the world she wanted to escape to her room, bar the door, and let all the misery flow out of her. She reminded herself that she had known for months that this day might come. The shock of the news that Robert had sold the ranch had been horrendous, but that shock paled in comparison to meeting Mason Mahaffey and his family. Not only meeting them but having them here, taking over her house, handling the possessions that she and her mother before her had cared for so meticulously.

  Nothing will be gained by sulking in the dark contemplating a gloomy future. This thought came forward out of the chaos in Victoria’s mind. She had long been trained to face whatever had to be faced and so took a deep breath, smoothed her hair back, tossed the long, golden braid back over her shoulder and went out into the hall. She followed the sound of voices to the kitchen and stood for a moment in the doorway before moving into the room.

  Mason, Ruby, and Stonewall were seated at the table, half-filled coffee cups in front of them. Mason got to his feet when she entered the room. Victoria refused to acknowledge him and went to the cabinet for a cup and to the stove to fill it from the coffeepot. She moved around the table and sat down beside Stonewall. It’s us against you, you bastard, she thought angrily as her eyes flashed audaciously over Mason’s face.

  “Did Dora damage your spinet?” Mason asked and Victoria was tempted to sneer at the note of concern in his voice. She didn’t answer, merely gave a negative shake of her head. “I was telling Mr. Perry and his wife that Nellie will take her in hand and see that she behaves herself.”

  “I’m not interested in your family problems, Mr. Mahaffey. I want to know when you’re going to take your brothers a
nd sisters and get out of my house,” Victoria said belligerently. All stops were pulled, all pretense of civility gone.

  “I’m not leaving, Victoria. In the first place I bought this place, paid for it, and have title. In the second place I intend to keep my brothers and sisters together under one roof until such time as they can go out on their own.” It was a flat dispassionate statement.

  “You were swindled out of your money. Robert had no right to sell it to you, the property wasn’t his. My father left it to me!” Her voice, shrill and breathless, didn’t sound like her voice.

  “Your brother’s solicitor showed me a will, signed by your father, leaving all his worldly goods to Robert McKenna.” He spoke in a calm, sure voice that was unnerving her.

  “It was a fake! Papa made out a will the week before he died. Stonewall witnessed it.” Her eyes were fiery now, like amber agates. Her head felt tight, and her eyes smarted, and for the first time in her life she wanted to really lash out at someone, to do something violent. It was a ridiculous notion. Even to attempt to strike Mason Mahaffey could only end in her own humiliation.

  Mason went very taut as he listened, his eyes still. “And where is this will?”

  “With my lawyer in South Pass City. He told me to stay here on my ranch and that’s what I’m going to do,” she said in a voice wooden with control.

  A muscle twitched in the corner of his mouth, and there was no amusement in the eyes that moved over the three faces across from him. “What do you suggest we do while we’re waiting for this mess to be untangled? The courts move slowly.”

  “I suggest you pack up your family and go back to town. It was foolhardy for you to come here in the first place.” Some of the desperation she was feeling made itself known by lips that quivered of their own volition.

  “I won’t do that. I, too, understand that possession is nine-tenths of the law out here.” His eyes compelled hers to meet his. There was not one crack in the man’s invulnerable self-assurance.

  “I don’t think ya know what yore up against, mister.” Stonewall motioned for Ruby to refill the coffee cups.

  “Yes, I do. I learned from the marshal that this territory is out of bounds for law enforcement officers. However, I’m used to fighting for what’s mine.”

  “Fiddlesticks!” Ruby snorted and set the coffeepot down with a thump. “What air ya goin’ ta fight with? Thar’s fifty outlaws what drift in ’n’ out of this here valley. If’n Victory ’n’ Stonewall pull out you’d not have a snowball’s chance in hell!”

  “I realize that also, and I’m asking the three of you to stay on until I can establish the same policy of neutrality Marcus McKenna practiced.”

  “You’re asking what?” Victoria thought she was going to fly into a million pieces. What unmitigated gall! “You’re asking me to stay in my own home?” She almost choked, and her heart pounded in response to her anger. “You fool! Your very life and that of your brothers depends on me and Stonewall. Any one of a dozen men in that bunkhouse would shoot you out of the saddle and not bat an eye if they knew you were trying to take this ranch from me.”

  “That’s what I wanted you to admit, Victoria. I wanted you to bring it all out in the open. Are you threatening to turn your outlaw friends loose on me?” His eyes narrowed dangerously and gave her back stare for stare.

  “I don’t want to, but I will before I’m pushed off this place.” A hectic flush stained her cheeks and her eyes looked like the amber, angry eyes of a wildcat he once treed.

  “I don’t think you will. As a matter of fact I’m going to gamble my life that you won’t. You’re going to have to share this place with me until the court settles our dispute.”

  “You call it sharing to stay in my house, eat my food, let your ill-mannered, destructive family create chaos in my home?” She knew she was being unfair about that last part, but it didn’t stop her from saying it.

  There was an almost endless silence following her outburst while she swallowed the raw, tearful ache in her throat.

  “I’ll pay for the food,” he said quietly and turned his attention to Stonewall. “Mr. Perry, my brothers and I will shoulder our share of the work. I see some wild mustangs in the corral. Are they to be broken?”

  Victoria heard the voices swirl around and about her, but she couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. Mason Mahaffey had delivered the ultimate challenge. The only way she was going to get him out of the valley was to have him murdered! Why was he so sure she wouldn’t do it? She had no shortage of opportunity. She had never asked anything of the men who drifted to the ranch from time to time. There was always a hot meal and a bed for any man who wandered in. Occasionally an especially wild outlaw would cause some trouble, but he would soon learn he stood alone against a group of tough men who depended on the Double M as a safe haven. They came into the valley, sick or hurt, received help and went on their way. Not a head of Double M stock was molested and not a word of disrespect was even whispered about Victoria or Ruby. Many times as she had traveled from the ranch to town Victoria knew she was being tailed by someone who would ensure her safe arrival. What were these men going to think about Mason Mahaffey moving into her house? If they even sensed her distress Mahaffey’s thick hide would be worthless.

  “Stonewall.” She broke off her thoughts and cut short his telling about how the knee-high grass in the lower valley was cut and dried for winter feed. “What will the men think?” She spoke as if only she and her foreman were in the room.

  “Wal, I dunno, Victory. Mostly it’ll depend on you. If’n ya let it out be ain’t welcome, he ain’t welcome.”

  “Who is here besides our regular hands?”

  “Ruby?”

  “Ike Ammunson rode in with a beady-eyed feller what looks like a cross a’tween a rooster ’n’ a polecat. Jim Lyster’s been here a day or two…got the running off at the bowels he told Shorty Fish. Sage Harrington’s here, but ya knowed that. I reckon he thinks the Double M’s home. Comes back ever’ time the wind changes. This time he come back wid two holes in ’im. He ain’t a bad un. He’s range wild, but not a bad un.” Ruby’s lively brown eyes lighted on Mason. “There ain’t a man here what wouldn’t be misput if’n Victory let out a peep ’bout what yore here fer. She’s the only purty young gal in all this strip ’n’ they take a special pride in seein’ she’s let be.”

  Mason leaned lazily back in the chair, his arms folded across his chest. He was a good-looking brute, Ruby was forced to admit, with that head of crisp, springy black hair and those blue eyes that took on a silvery shine, contrasting strongly with his dark face. She noticed the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. He’d be a mean critter in a fight. But was he a gunfighter? His hands were long and slim, the gunbelt he wore looked well-used, his boots were worn but cared for.

  Ruby had become very observant during the years she had lived on the Double M. Before that she’d worked in a saloon until Stonewall came in one night and bought her a drink. Half an hour later he’d asked her if she wanted to live on a ranch. She’d said yes and he lifted her up onto the back of his horse and they rode out to the valley. It was the luckiest night of her life. She had loved Stonewall then, and she loved him now.

  “I agree that Victoria is a pretty girl,” Mason said evenly. “I hope that same respectful treatment is afforded my sisters.”

  “What’ll I do, Stonewall?” Victoria asked wearily. “What can I do short of asking the men to escort them back to town? If I do that I’ll have to tell them why I don’t want them here. Someone might take it into his head to see that he”—she inclined her head in Mason’s direction—”doesn’t come back. Worse than that I don’t want to see harm come to Pete and Clay. Thank God no one would dare hurt Nellie or the children. What’ll I do, Stonewall?” she asked again, her voice flat with strain.

  “Ya don’t need to ask, Victory. Ya know what to do. Matters could be a heap worse. He could a come ridin’ in with some hired hands ’n’ we’d a had a
shoot-out.” Stonewall’s strong, weathered face softened when he looked at the girl. She had been a little towhead, friendlier than a pup, when he first came to the ranch. He’d never known of her doing an unkind thing during all those years. He wished, with all his heart, that he could do something to take the worry from her face.