Broken Promises

by Patricia Watters

  Tess looked at Gratianne with a start. "Me?"

  "Does that surprise you?" Gratianne asked.

  "Yes, very much," Tess said. "He's not his father's son when it comes to me, I'm afraid. I guess Zak told you."

  Gratianne nodded. "Zak said there had been problems, but what I saw last night didn't give that impression. I saw a woman reach out, and a little boy accept and return her love. You've filled a void for Pio."

  "If I have," Tess said, "I'm glad."

  "Well, you have," Gratianne reaffirmed. "Now, Jean-Pierre wants to see you. Do you mind?"

  Tess looked toward the door. "No, I suppose not." She gathered the robe tighter around herself and prepared to face Zak's father.

  Gratianne went to the door and poked her head out. "Jean-Pierre," she called.

  Jean-Pierre entered the room, his face stoic, and when he spoke, Tess felt tension crackle in the air. "Miss O'Reilly," he said, "I want to thank you for rescuing my grandson."

  Tess looked directly at him. "I only did what anyone else would have done."

  "No," he said, "I can't accept that. You did what only someone who cared would do."

  "Zak's son is very special," she said, "and I care about Zak."

  "I can see that now," Jean-Pierre said. He moved to gaze out the window, and with his back to her, continued, by saying, "I can also see that Zak cares a great deal about you." He turned halfway around then. "But you must understand that my son and grandson are Basque."

  "Your son and grandson are American, Mr. de Neuville," Tess stated.

  Jean-Pierre's eyes narrowed as he faced her. "But in their veins is Basque blood, and if Basque blood continues to be mixed, our ancient culture will die."

  Gratianne looked at her husband, and said, in a firm voice, "Jean-Pierre, it's inevitable that all civilizations be assimilated."

  Jean-Pierre eyed his wife with impatience, "And when the Basque are assimilated, the most ancient of European languages will be forgotten."

  Gratianne eyed her husband with impatience. "We can preserve what we can, Jean-Pierre, but we can't force the next generation to follow."

  "But we don't have to accept what they're doing either," Jean-Pierre said. "The only reason the Basque have survived is because they've ignored their invaders." His eyes rested on Tess.

  Zak appeared in the doorway. "It's also the reason why they've learned so little. It was you, Father, who said that the best sheepdogs we have, the quickest to learn, are Alta and Reb, both crossbreeds. Cultures also learn from their invaders." He bent over and kissed Tess squarely on the lips, and said, "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

  Tess smiled up at him. "Like I wouldn't care to take a hike in the rain. How's Pio doing?"

  "See for yourself," Zak said. "Pio!"

  Pio appeared in the doorway but said nothing. He moved to Zak's side and stared at Tess much as he had the first day she saw him, but his eyes no longer held the resentment she'd seen before. She extended her hand. Pio looked up at Zak and when Zak nudged him, he scurried over to the bed and took Tess's hand. "Come on up," she said, patting the bed.

  Pio smiled and crawled up beside her. She wrapped her arm around him and pulled him to her, and said, "You gave us quite a scare, young man."

  Pio looked up at her and patted her cheek. "Zuklaminak," he said, his voice teasing.

  "Oh, no. I'm not going to be one of your little people who cleans the house," Tess replied, remembering the Basque story Zak told her about the laminaks--the little people who live in caves in the mountains and come into the house during the night, when the family is sleeping, to polish the copper and brass and sweep the floors.

  Zak laughed. "He doesn't want you to come clean the house," he said, "he wants you to be his own laminak. A regular chip off the old block. It seems he has a crush on you."

  Tess looked at Pio's smiling face and saw flickers of mischief in his bright eyes. "Then maybe I'll just wait for him to grow up instead," she said, rumpling Pio's hair.

  "Oh no you won't," Zak replied. "I've waited long enough already."

  Without speaking, Jean-Pierre left the room. Tess glanced toward the hallway. "Whatever it is you're waiting for," she said, "it won't be with your father's blessing."

  "We'll see. Meanwhile, he's waiting to give Pio a chess lesson, and I'm hungry, so get dressed and I'll meet you in the kitchen for breakfast." He motioned for Pio and they left Tess alone with Gratianne.

  Tess slipped from under the quilt and started to fold it. Gratianne reached for one corner and as they lapped the quilt over, Gratianne said, "It was much different for me. When I married Jean-Pierre I was only sixteen, and it was our parents' choice, but I've never regretted it. We lived here with Jean-Pierre's mother and father, knowing the place would one day be ours. And someday it will belong to Zak and his family. The ranch was just in sheep at the time, and Zak's grandfather was still alive, but he'd already turned the ranch over to Jean-Pierre's father, who was first born son. Jean-Pierre and his brothers grew up here, but when it was time, the place was turned over to Jean-Pierre, and Jean-Pierre's brothers moved on."

  "What about Vince?" Tess asked. "Don't you think he might eventually want to live here?"

  "It's not his choice," Gratianne replied. "Zak has birthright."

  Tess eyed her with impatience. "So I heard. If he marries a Basque woman."

  Gratianne looked at her. "Times are changing for us," she said, with resolve. "Even Jean-Pierre has to face the inevitable. He likes you. He just needs time."

  "And how do you feel?" Tess asked, pointedly.

  "Zak's my son," Gratianne said. "What I want most for him is his happiness. If the two of you decide to spend your lives together now, what can I say but--" she raised her eyes to meet Tess's "--welcome to our family. I also know my husband. He'd eventually welcome you too."

  Tess realized Jean-Pierre de Neuville's acceptance of her could still be a long way off. "Zak and I aren't discussing marriage," she said, draping the quilt across the foot of the bed. "There are too many obstacles."

  Gratianne looked across the bed. "Obstacles between the two of you?" she asked.

  "Not between us," Tess replied. "More like surrounding us. Fathers, logging camps, property line disputes. I've often felt that Zak and I are just not meant to have a life of our own."

  Gratianne sat on the bed and patted it for Tess to sit beside her. When Tess did, Gratianne said, "I want to tell you something I've never told anyone."

  "Please, don't tell me anything you might regret," Tess said. "I don't want to be entrusted with a secret I'm expected to keep from Zak."

  "It's not a secret," Gratianne said, "just something I thought you should know. When I was fifteen my father told me I would be marrying Jean-Pierre de Neuville as soon as I turned sixteen. I was horrified. At the time I was in love with a boy who lived down the road from us. We'd even planned to marry some day. But suddenly that choice was taken away. I felt like I had no control of my own destiny, even thought about running away."

  "How old was Mr. de Neuville then?" Tess asked.

  Gratianne held her gaze. "Twenty-one."

  "He must have seemed very old to you then," Tess commented, remembering how she'd thought Zak very mature and very much a man at twenty-one.

  "He did seem old," Gratianne replied, "especially when the boy I was seeing was only sixteen."

  "But you married Mr. de Neuville anyway."

  Gratianne nodded. "It was what my family expected."

  "What would the families have done if Mr. de Neuville had chosen to marry a woman who wasn't Basque?" Tess asked.

  "They probably would have sent him away like Jean-Pierre sent Zak away," Gratianne replied. "But fortunately Jean-Pierre didn't object to marrying me."

  Tess looked at Gratianne, baffled. "I thought you didn't want to marry him."

  "I didn't at the time my father announced who I'd be marrying," Gratianne said. "But when I saw Jean-Pierre, well... things changed."

  "How long
did it take you to fall in love with him?" Tess asked,

  Gratianne's eyes brightened. "About two minutes. Although he was an older--" she held up fingers in quotes "--man, he was also very handsome, like Zak. Because he'd been in France learning to be a vintner, I'd never met him. But from the first time I set eyes on him, I couldn't get him out of my mind. And after we'd married, as our relationship began to grow and he returned my love, I began to wonder... what if Jean-Pierre had been the one I loved before and I was forced to give him up for someone else?"

  Tess looked at her intently, and said, "What would you have done then?"

  Gratianne eyes flashed. "I would have run away with Jean-Pierre if that's the only way I could have had him. Fortunately, I didn't have to make that choice, and no one ever tried to separate us." She paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you love Zak?"

  Tess looked at Gratianne with a start. Feeling the agitated beating of her heart, she replied. "I've loved Zak since I was fourteen."

  "Then don't let a couple of mulish, dogmatic old men come between you," Gratianne said. "Now, get dressed and come join Zak in the kitchen for breakfast."

  Twenty minutes later, when Tess entered the kitchen, Zak got up from his place at the table and went over and kissed her. "You look like my mother did after talking to you, both with smiles like the Cheshire cat."

  "Girl talk," Tess said. "Where's Pio?"

  "Setting up the chess board." Zak pulled the chair out for her to sit down. "Father takes his chess seriously, even beat the Hungarian grand master in an exhibition tournament several years ago. He hopes Pio will one day offer him a challenge."

  Tess glanced up at Zak, and said, "It seems our father's have at least one thing in common, though I'd hate to be present if they ever decided to play a game of chess."

  Zak laughed. "I doubt if we'll ever have to worry about that."

  Gratianne slid wedges of spicy omelet onto two dishes and set them in front of Tess and Zak, then she placed a platter French bread slices on the table. "I ate earlier with Jean-Pierre," she said. "If you two will excuse me, I have to feed my baby." She lifted a bottle of milk, with a large rubber nipple on it, from a pot of warm water on the stove, and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.

  "You've made a hit with my mother," Zak said. "That's half the battle."

  "Only half?" Tess replied. "I was hoping you'd be on my side too."

  "Honey, I've been on your side since the day I went to work for your father," Zak said. "I've loved you from that moment, and nothing has changed."

  "Then that's two-thirds on my side." She thought about that some more, and said, "actually I think you were right before. Your father pretty much offsets you and your mother. He made his position very clear to me about what he expects of you, and it isn't for you to marry the daughter of Gib O'Reilly, unless, of course, Gib O'Reilly happened to be Basque."

  Zak reached across the table and took her hand, and said, "My father will not be selecting my next wife. That's a promise I can keep."

  Tess looked down at their clasped hands, then at him, and replied, "But if she's not Basque, he won't accept her either."

  "If that's the way it is, then so be it." He gave her hand a squeeze, then continued eating.

  After they'd finished, they went into the living room where they found Jean-Pierre and Pio sitting opposite each other at the chess table, with the game already underway. Pio squirmed restlessly in his chair, turning to catch Zak's smile.

  Jean-Pierre touched the boy's hand. "Pio, pay attention."

  Pio looked back at the board, quickly moved his king's knight, then shifted his gaze to the window, where bright sunshine now peeked through the clouds.

  Jean-Pierre moved his bishop. "You must keep your mind on the game," he said. "See what I've done. By placing my king's bishop in this position, I'm able to pin your knight."

  Pio's feet moved back and forth under the table, and his gaze kept darting to the window.

  Catching Pio's eye, Zak winked at him, then said to Jean-Pierre, "I don't think your pupil is with you this morning. It seems our Oregon weather has let you down."

  Jean-Pierre looked toward the window where a blaze of light fell against the polished wood floor, then at Pio, who looked at him, expectantly. "Okay, son, go on," he said to Pio, while motioning with his head. Pio smiled and scampered away before his grandfather could change his mind. Jean-Pierre looked at Tess. "You say you play?"

  Tess shrugged. "A little."

  Jean-Pierre set up the board again, positioning the white pieces in front of the chair that Pio had vacated, and the black pieces in front of himself. "Feel like sitting down and showing me what you can do?"

  Tess smiled politely, and said, "I'm afraid I wouldn't be any match for you."

  Jean-Pierre looked up from the chess board, and said, "How can you know unless you try?"

  "I suppose I can't," Tess replied, then accepted his challenge and sat across from him.

  Zak pulled another chair up to the board, and said to Jean-Pierre, "I must warn you, Father, sometimes this woman can be full of surprises."

  The hint of a smile played about Jean-Pierre's lips. "I guess we shall see." He looked across the table at Tess and motioned with his hand, giving her the signal to begin.

  Tess opened by sliding the king's pawn forward, and Jean-Pierre responded in kind. Then, as if each had been energized by some unseen force, they followed in turn with a series of seven quickly executed moves, each of them slapping the pieces smartly to the board with a sharp rap. Tess paused momentarily, then moved again. Jean-Pierre sat motionless, intently studying the board. Then he looked up at Tess, and said, "You know the opening well."

  "The Ruy Lopez is my father's favorite,' Tess said. "We've played it a lot."

  "It's evident," Jean-Pierre replied.

  An hour later, after a long series of studied moves, and knowing it was only a matter of time and careful execution before Jean-Pierre would win, Tess reached for her king, lay the piece on its side and resigned. Jean-Pierre looked up from the board, and said, "That's the best game I've played in a long time. You say your father taught you?"

  "Yes," Tess replied. "We played often when I was growing up."

  Eyeing her intently, Jean-Pierre said, "Is he a rated player?"

  "He was years ago," Tess said, "but I don't think he's played in any tournaments lately so I have no idea what his rating would be now."

  Jean-Pierre rested back in his chair, one finger lightly tapping the table. "Your father's rating. Was it over fifteen hundred?" he asked.

  "Oh, yes," Tess said. "I'm sure it was much higher than that, but I can't remember what it was." She shoved her chair back and stood. "I enjoyed the game, Mr. de Neuville."

  Jean-Pierre pushed his chair back and he too stood. "Yes, it was a good game," he said. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

  Zak extended his hand toward his father. "Thanks for everything," he said. "I'll be back for Pio next weekend. And don't let him slip off and pull anything like he did yesterday."

  Jean-Pierre clasped Zak's hand. "He's just a curious, growing boy. He has to try his wings."

  "But I distinctly told him not to climb up to the tree house," Zak said.

  "A young boy forgets easily," Jean-Pierre replied.

  "Then he should be disciplined," Zak said. "Besides, if we don't insist he stay within the bounds we set, he won't think anyone cares about him." Zak took Tess's arm to leave, and it was all she could do to keep from gloating.

  ***

  Late that next afternoon, Tess pulled up in front of her father's house and bounded up the stairs to the porch, and when she stepped into the living room, the aroma of ham baking in the oven tickled her nostrils. "Aunt Ruth! Dad!" she called to the empty room.

  "In the bedroom, sweetie," Aunt Ruth called back.

  Tess found her father sitting on the floor with pins between his lips, turning up the hem of the Aunt Ruth's dress. "We'll be with you in a minute," Aunt Ruth said f
rom her perch on a stool.

  "Don't you say a damn word," Gib said to Tess out of the corner of his mouth, while continuing to hold the pins between pressed lips.

  Tess stifled a laugh, then winked at Aunt Ruth, and said, "I'd offer to help, but it looks like you've already got him trained. I'll set the table." She turned toward the hall, laughing softly.

  "Sweetie," Aunt Ruth called after her, "please check the ham and baste the yams with some of the syrup on the counter. We'll be through here in a couple of minutes."

  "Consider it done." Tess peeked in the oven and saw a glazed ham trimmed with pineapple rounds and maraschino cherries on one rack, and a casserole with bubbling candied yams on the rack below. She reached for the yams and placed them on the counter, then spooned on syrup before returning them to the oven. In a pot on top of the stove were fresh green beans with slivered almonds and strips of bacon. Replacing the lid, she turned to set the table.

  A few minutes later, Aunt Ruth came in and began scurrying about dishing up the food and putting it on the table, and shortly afterwards, her father wandered into the room. After they took their places, Gib carved the ham and passed a platter of sliced meat around the table. As Aunt Ruth placed a thick slice of ham on her plate, she said to her brother, "I don't like Tess out there with those men, especially with all that's been going on. Really Gib, it's not a job for a young woman. Carl Yaeger's offer might not be what you want, but it is an offer, and it's beyond me to understand why you don't sell the place to him and be done with it."

  Tess looked at her father. "Did Carl Yaeger actually make an offer to you on paper?"

  When her father didn't reply, Aunt Ruth looked at him in irritation, and said, "It's not on paper yet, but he's ready to make a formal offer."

  Tess eyed her father with annoyance, and said, "You never told me anything about that."

  "That's because I haven't made up my mind one way or another," Gib replied.

  "But if you're thinking about it you could at least clue me in, you know."

  Gib glared at his sister, then shifted impatient eyes to Tess, and said in a firm voice, "When, and if, I decide to sell, you'll be the first to know. Meanwhile, I don't want pressure from either of you women to sell before I'm ready. And I'm not ready to throw in the towel yet."