by Tina Leonard
“That doesn’t sound like my father.” What harm could his sister do his father? The entailment favored male children. Beatrice wouldn’t have been a threat.
“Don’t kid yourself. The men in this family come from a long line of thieves and cheats. Your father was one of the better ones.”
Alex shifted un com fort ably. Hadn’t his father admitted cheating Cos with great enthusiasm the night they’d eaten together? And he’d said as much in his letter. “My understanding is that men of integrity have built this ranch,” he said stiffly. “A few CEOs, a wildcatter—”
“Oh, spare me.” Gloria giggled as Beatrice snorted. Phillip wore an amused grin. “Not one of them would have ever made it into a social register of worth. Money was the only thing that separated any of those men from the title of petty bank robber. No princes in this family, I can assure you.” She smiled benignly at her son. “But Phillip has been raised to know the meaning of honesty. Integrity. And he will bring credit to the family name when it’s his turn.”
Alex bit the inside of his jaw. “Can we get back to the situation between my father and you?”
“Your father,” Beatrice said acidly, “being a cheat and a thief, paid our mother’s side of the family handsomely to keep me away. I waited, day after lonely day, for some word from my brother, whom I loved dearly. But he never wrote, never called. Sent a check every year, a bribe to keep me up north.” She sighed dramatically. “I had no idea the insignificant funds he sent barely touched the wealth he was enjoying.” Her expression was long-suffering.
“And how did you discover that my father was…cheating you?”
“When I became of legal age, the meager checks he sent were turned over to me. That’s when I first knew some thing was very wrong. Why did my dear brother not invite me to live in Texas with him?” she asked, her mouth pinched with pity. “I wrote him, but he only sent another check in reply, a raise in funds, if you will. By then I had met a man I loved, and I married him, staying among friends and family as my brother clearly saw no need to reconcile himself with me.”
“I see.” Alex moved toward the bar, pouring himself a straight whiskey. Was it true? Could his father really have paid his sister off in this manner? He’d paid Cos off to get his daughter, if Daphne’s theory was to be believed.
“It was clear he didn’t want me around,” she said sadly, “and when my husband died, I thought he might invite his poor sister to live with him then, but no. There I was up north, with no idea that my brother was living like a king.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daphne stroll the babies into the room.
“What are those?” Beatrice demanded.
“Our children.” He smiled reassuringly at Daphne. Her face was pale and drawn.
“I’m going out for a drive,” she told him.
“If you’ll wait five minutes, I’ll go with you.”
“I’ll be all right.” Her gaze swept Gloria, then returned like a boomerang to him. “Goodbye, Alex.” She turned the stroller, the three little heads with three little white bonnets inside glancing around with interest.
Alex felt a momentary pang as he stared at his daughters. They looked like angels! He wished he could give them the security of Green Forks, but he couldn’t. Instantly, Alex knew that same feeling had driven his father. Not that Alexander’s manipulative ways could ever be excused, but for the first time, he recognized the burning need to provide for and protect his children. Daphne’s posterior swayed enticingly as she pushed the stroller through the wide doorway, her bronze hair falling in feminine curls down her back.
Oh, he definitely under stood the urge to provide for and protect.
“You must be disappointed that all those children are girls.”
“Not a bit,” Alex assured her, raw dislike tearing into him. Until now, he’d been too numbed by Beatrice’s arrival to feel one way or the other toward her. But now he sampled his father’s dislike for her. “My family is my pride and joy.”
“Well.” She settled into the chair. “I hope so. Because as far as I can see, they’re all you’ve got.”
“I fail to see your point.”
“Well, let me make it clear, then.” She shot him a smile that was meant to needle. “We’re going to live here, Phillip, Gloria and I. We’re putting down permanent roots at Green Forks. As Gloria is having a son, that puts us in charge for the future. As you so succinctly put it, the entailment won’t hold water over here in America. You can play it that way if you like so that you’ll have the upper hand during your lifetime. It won’t matter, because I’m suing for the portion that by rights is mine. Alexander and I should have inherited equally upon our parents’ deaths. I may be a woman, but I’m not stupid,” she said with a jaundiced smile, “and as far as I can see, I’m due a hell of a lot of back interest on what was stolen from me. Either way you move, you’re going to lose.”
“That sounds like a threat.” He pinned her with a re lent less stare.
She returned it, her smile never faltering. “It is, my dear nephew. Because if I learned anything during my exile, it is that blood is thinner than the almighty dollar bill.” She shrugged. “You of all people can’t expect me to feel any differently, as you are the son of the greatest cheat and thief the Banning lineage ever begot.”
Chapter Eleven
“From here on, we’ll let our lawyers hammer this out.” There wasn’t much else Alex could say to Beatrice’s pronouncement, though he hated to declare war on his own flesh and blood. She was determined to protect her place and Phillip’s—and his unborn son’s—with the same fierce ness that had possessed Alexander Senior.
Nodding briskly at Beatrice, who smiled with great enjoyment at his discomfort, Alex left the large room and headed to Daphne’s quarters. He needed his wife and his children.
“They’ve gone, sir,” Nelly told him dole fully. “Miss Daphne said to tell you that she stayed as long as she’d agreed to. And in light of the situation, she thought it would be easier on you if she went on her way.”
Alex’s mind went blank with astonishment. Daphne had deserted him? His heart constricted tightly and pain fully as his disbelieving gaze roamed the room, looking for any sign that Daphne might not have yet left. The three white-painted cribs were being dismantled, and a stray box of diaper wipes sat on the bureau, but that was all. For the second time, she’d left him—and he was furious.
“Why are you taking those down?” he demanded. “Daphne will need those cribs when I drag her back here.”
Sinclair shook his head. “She asked that they be sent over to her. Everything else she had loaded into the Suburban.”
“Damn it!” He ground his teeth. “Did she say where she was going?”
“Not directly, sir.” Nelly didn’t meet his eyes.
“Okay,” he said care fully, recognizing that his faithful servants might be in on a plan with his wife, “can you tell me where these cribs are going?”
“No, sir.” Sinclair looked miserable.
“I will find her, you know. Why are you covering her whereabouts?” He bit the inside of his jaw to keep from sternly reminding them whose faithful retainers they were supposed to be.
“She asked us not to say.” Nelly folded a baby blanket and met his eyes unhappily. “We know you will find her, so we just don’t want to be a party to it.”
“You make me sound like I’m going to hunt her down and shoot her.”
“No, sir. It’s just that she needs some time alone. It’s crazy around here, and we under stand how she feels.” Nelly glanced at Sinclair, who nodded.
“Don’t tell me you two are packing up, as well?” Alex didn’t know what he would do without them.
“Oh, no, sir. Your father would have wanted us to stay with you. We’ve been with you since you came screaming into your daddy’s life.” Nelly shook her head. “But Miss Daphne asked us not to say where she was headed, and we want to keep our selves out of her business. That’s all it is.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll find her.”
Sinclair straightened from adjusting a crib. “Alex,” he said softly.
“Yes?” He turned to meet his butler’s gaze, his expression hard.
“You had me bring Daphne here as soon as she came home from the hospital.”
He didn’t like the almost pleading tone of Sinclair’s voice. “So?”
“And she agreed to stay until your anniversary, which, coincidentally, happens to be today.” Sinclair pursed his lips. “She has kept her part of the bargain. May I suggest that to coerce a woman a second time might bring a bad result?”
Alex’s brows soared. “She is my wife.”
“That,” Sinclair agreed, nodding, “but not a possession.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “We have three children! Our place is together!”
“If that’s what both parties want, yes. But you’ve got a bit of your father in you, Alex, which, while usually a good thing, isn’t going to help you with Miss Daphne. You cannot force her to be some where she doesn’t want to be, just because you think it should be so.”
Pain he couldn’t identify as logical twisted his gut. He loved Daphne. She couldn’t leave him. She loved him. “I’m not trying to…” he said in his own defense, then halted. The thought that she would choose to leave him hurt as it had when she’d left him the first time. How in the hell could he be back at square one when they’d had two good weeks together? When they had three perfect daughters to raise?
Reality forced him to admit that they hadn’t really had two good weeks. Alexander had died, and the close, together feeling Alex and Daphne had begun to regain had swiftly eroded.
It suddenly occurred to him that Beatrice’s snide dig that his father had been the greatest liar and cheat of all, and now Sinclair’s assertion that he was like his father—pigheaded—combined to make an un pleas ant person. Surely he had treated Daphne with respect? Could it be that he was used to getting his way by whatever means, as his father had done?
As always when faced with a difficult dilemma, he forced himself to defer to Sinclair’s wisdom. “What are you suggesting?”
His butler nodded, lowering his eyes. “Perhaps some time apart, sir.”
“We’ve had months apart!”
“Yes. But Miss Daphne is grieving terribly, and struggling with the joys and challenges of three infants.” Sinclair kept his gaze fastened to the floor, as did Nelly. “Forgive me for saying so, but this time I can’t recommend jewels to soothe the situation.” He drew a deep breath that sounded tight and distressed. “This time, sir, you are going to have to wait for Miss Daphne to return to you—on her own.”
“I’M HOME, Momma,” Daphne called.
She walked into the faded kitchen that lacked fresh paint but never love and warmth.
At the sink, Danita turned to face her. “You got the babies?”
“I do. Dad’s settling them in the spare bedroom.” Daphne hovered uncertainly in the doorway. “I hope you don’t mind—”
“I don’t.” Danita came to give her a warm hug. “You’re my daughter. Don’t say nothing else to me. If you need to be here, that’s good enough for me.”
“Oh, Momma.” Tears stung Daphne’s eyes. “I know I should go to my apartment, but I don’t want to. I want to be here—”
“Sh.” Danita gave her a no-nonsense yet gentle shake. “We’ve got plenty enough room and some left over. Three little babies oughta be with their grand parents, anyway, not being shuffled around in apartments like a tiny deck of cards.” She gave Daphne a thorough eyeing before hugging her again. “You gotta quit wearing yourself so thin, gal. I plan to work on you about this.”
Daphne sniffled and laughed in spite of herself. “I think that’s why I came home, so you could work on me.”
“That’s why you’ve always been smarter than the rest of the pack, Daphne Way. Sooner or later, you let your innate smarts tell ya what to do. Some people want to let their brain tell their hearts what’s right, and it don’t always work that way. Some times, but not always. Sit down, gal. I’ll fix you some lunch.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Daphne sank gratefully into a chair, her frayed nerves beginning to piece together again slowly. It was good to be home, good to be where she knew what to expect. At the Banning mansion, life had been awry moment after moment, always building to a greater crescendo.
She needed calmness right now. Alex did not make her feel calm. He tapped into her wildest emotions, lust, love, anger, denial, delirious happiness. She felt like an old wash cloth with the threads worn out.
“What did you tell Alex?”
Daphne closed her eyes. “I didn’t.”
“You just left?” Danita’s eyebrow lifted as she fixed a tuna sandwich.
“I said goodbye, but he was talking to Beatrice and her gang. It didn’t look like the conversation was one I should tear him away from, so I left a message with Sinclair and Nelly.” She took a grateful drink of the tea Danita put in front of her. “I’ll explain everything to him later.”
“All right.” Danita shrugged, accepting her reasons. “Eat now. You’ll need all your strength to face Alex when he comes looking for you.”
ALEX DIDN’T COME that entire day. First Daphne was glad, then she was saddened by the fact that it was their anniversary and felt more like a funeral. But she couldn’t think about funerals without thinking about Alexander, so after Danita drove her to her two-week checkup and she was pronounced fine, Daphne went home to her babies.
That after noon the phone rang in her mother’s kitchen, but it wasn’t Alex. It wasn’t even his solicitor, whom she was prepared to hear from because of the children. The after noon grew longer, and she prayed to get through this one and on to the next. That it was their anniversary made her think about Alex constantly, which wasn’t good for the happy mood she was determined to develop.
Tomorrow, she decided, she would clean out her studio and pack up her apartment. She was just wasting money on a place she wasn’t going to use anymore. Its purpose was over, and Alex had found her there, anyway.
She was only a stone’s throw away, across the road, and he hadn’t come to her. Daphne couldn’t help feeling a bit irrationally disappointed by that. Not hopeful that he would come, she assured herself, just disappointed. No doubt a normal feeling when a relationship hadn’t worked out.
Night fall came and went. Cicadas sang in the late night breeze, reminding her that autumn always followed summer. She wasn’t ready for fall and the ensuing chill of winter, when she had yet to recapture the sunshine in her life.
De pressed, she went to bed after giving the babies a last feeding. They settled in com fort ably, their needs for survival met.
Daphne couldn’t help wondering if she would ever feel that kind of innocent contentment again.
“DAMN IT!” Alex cursed under his breath as the ladder banged against his shin. Cos’s rickety ladder probably wasn’t going to hold him up for more than five minutes, but that was all the time he needed to see Daphne. By darn, he was going to see his wife on their anniversary, even if it meant resorting to unusual methods.
Okay, so maybe his old man’s fire burned brightly within him. But he could temper that, damn it. He wouldn’t drag Daphne from her bedroom and down the ladder to take her home, even if it was where she belonged.
The bottom rung cracked when he put a foot on it, causing a sound loud enough to make the night noises around him cease. One more loud noise like that, and old Cos was going to run onto the porch with his shotgun.
It was worth the risk, he told himself, ascending the ladder. He knew full well which bedroom was Daphne’s, having thrown rocks against her window during their court ship. Cradling a full bouquet of long-stemmed red roses against his chest, Alex prayed the ladder would hold.
It did, and he gained the top rung, peering in the darkened window through the small space between the lace draperies. He couldn’t see anything, but in c
ase she had the babies in there with her, he would tap softly. Just loud enough to wake his wife.
He raised his hand to tap the glass. The draperies were shoved back, the window flew up, and Cos’s shotgun poked out.
“Aah!” Alex cried. The ladder swayed precariously, and he dropped the roses as he grabbed the window sill.
“Who the hell’s out there?” Cos demanded. “Speak up! My wife’s calling the law, but like as not I’ll shoot ya fulla holes ‘fore they get here!”
“It’s Alex!” To die by Cos’s shotgun after the years of feuding were over was too much. He reached out and carefully turned the shotgun aside. Cos’s angry face poked out the window, meeting him nose to nose.
“What the hell you doing coming in my window, boy?”
Alex’s heart beat thundered like wild horses. The sight of Cos, his hair standing on end from sleep, was almost more disconcerting than the shotgun he’d been pointing. “I have to see Daphne.”
“What’sa matter? Those hooty-snoots kick you out?” Cos glared at him. Danita peered over his shoulder at Alex, her head wrapped in some pink foam thing. “Lookee here, Danita. Now I’ve got me a Banning trying to creep in my winder to steal my daughter. Again.”
Alex didn’t bother to dignify that with an answer. “Can I see her, please?”
“There a reason you can’t use the phone and ask her?” Cos’s chin thrust belligerently out.
Alex leaned back—not enough to tip himself off the ladder. “I didn’t think she’d take my call.”
“And you’d be thinking right! So how come you’re trying to sneak into my house if you know she doesn’t want to see ya right now?”
It was a precarious thing, being elevated on a stolen ladder trying to explain to his father-in-law that he only wanted to see Daphne and give her some flowers. Alex sighed, realizing he’d have been better off having the florist deliver some.