by Tina Leonard
“You’re being quite the ruffian, but if you’ll go on like a good cow, I’ll forget about this incident. If you don’t, it’s the grill for you,” he warned.
The cow gave another great shake of its horns, and Phillip realized it was stuck.
He was going to have to touch the awful thing in order to free it if he ever wanted the horned door fixture returned to its pasture.
“What in heaven’s name is going on?”
His mother’s vexed voice startled Phillip so badly he jumped a foot. “Mother! Must you creep about?”
“Really, Phillip! What is a bull doing in the house?”
“Bull?” He turned to stare at the beast. “Bull?”
“Yes. A bull. You act like you’ve never seen one before,” she said impatiently.
He was fairly certain he hadn’t, and certainly not one deter mined to get in a house he was occupying.
“Move,” she commanded. Like a soldier of war, his mother approached the bull, took hold of its horn and gave it a shove. Either from shock or because she’d freed it, the massive head disappeared from the doorway. The glass door slammed shut, but the animal remained on the porch staring at them.
“Turn off the light, ninny!” she instructed her son. “Unless you want him standing out there all night.”
Phillip jumped to do her bidding. The hallway went dark, but the bull, obviously perplexed, continued standing on the porch.
“I don’t think he can hurt anything out there now.” Beatrice firmly closed the heavy wooden door behind the glass one. “The cowboys will be up soon. They’ll get the bull back to his place.”
She turned toward her room. Phillip stared, his jaw dropping. “Mother, there could be others roaming around out there. You wouldn’t want any of your purchases wandering off down the road.”
“You’re right. I’ll call the bunk house.”
She went off, com fort able with her decision. He was not, but he preferred to leave the whole dilemma in his mother’s hands.
Phillip went to his room, knowing he had an upset wife on the other side of the door. Even if his mother was in her element, he was definitely not in his by any stretch. He could hear Gloria weeping, which she did a lot of since she’d become pregnant. He sighed self-pityingly.
Living the life of a wealthy cattle baron was hard on his nerves.
“I want to go home to Philly!” Gloria wailed when he opened the door. The hot dog curlers were askew. One group of false eye lashes had come unglued. They clumped, waving like pointy spider legs, from the top of an eyelid.
Getting home to Philly seemed like a distant dream. He wanted the same thing his wife did.
Unfortunately, his mother would have a fit if he left. “Argh!” he groaned to nobody in particular. His disastrously weepy wife gasped, peering out the window where the bull had returned to look in.
It was going to be a long night.
“DISGRACEFUL!” Beatrice scolded him the next morning. From their end of the break fast table, Gloria and Phillip glanced up. “I never saw such useless behavior in all my life.” She buttered toast with an angry swipe. “You, Gloria, caterwauling like an upset infant. And Phillip, were you just going to leave that animal stuck in the door all night?”
“I would have thought of some thing,” he said defensively. “Sooner or later.” Shooting a stern stare at Gloria to tell her to keep quiet, he decided pacifying his mother was the best route to making sure he stayed on her good side. “I think the cattle you bought were a wise investment.”
Beatrice eyed him narrowly. “Do you?”
“Of course. Why not?”
Beatrice shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Alex mentioned he thought I’d perhaps bought too many.”
“Oh, please.” Phillip picked up his glass of orange juice. “Alex is going to say anything to make you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing.” He started to sip his juice. Gloria pinched the inside of his thigh, making him gasp with pain and choke.
“Maybe you did buy a couple too many,” Gloria began, whacking Phillip on the back, “just one or two, I’m sure, Beatrice. You could run an ad in the paper and sell off a few. Or even during the garage sale you could mention you got a couple of extra…how do they say it? Heads of cattle to sell.”
“I can’t have the garage sale,” Beatrice complained. Her lips puckered with annoyance. “Alex has filed an in junction against me.”
“What?” Phillip put his glass down. “He can’t do that.”
“Tell that to a rinky-dink small-town judge who’s known him since he was in diapers.” She abruptly leaned back in the chair, her dress sleeves puffing out. “It’s going to be hard to turn this place around. It’ll be a real battle to make it what it should be. But I’m determined.” She laid a many-ringed hand on the damask table cloth. “This place is going to be a show place, a jewel unrivaled by the Astor or Vanderbilt estates, if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.”
Phillip didn’t know what to say to that. He had a funny feeling Alex would have plenty to say, though. Nervously, he checked his watch. Any second now he expected his cousin to appear at the break fast table. Not that he would ever admit it, but he admired cousin Alex. The man was everything he was not: Tall, powerfully built, annoyingly commanding. Formidable, and not the least bit concerned about standing up to Beatrice. Phillip wished he could do that. He was soft-spoken, slightly built and not made for confrontation, whether with his mother or curious cows.
It was a bull, he reminded himself. He wouldn’t have been intimidated by a simple cow.
Alex walked in and seated himself at the head of the table. He nodded briefly to Beatrice at the opposite end.
She set her fork down, her eyes gleaming with what Phillip recognized as her battle expression.
“Alex, I was just telling Phillip about my plans for Green Forks.”
Alex appeared unruffled. “It’s a bit soon for you to be making plans of any kind, Beatrice.”
“Still, one must always prepare for the future. And I want the best for Green Forks.” She leaned forward, her enthusiasm taking hold of her. “We need to make modifications. I intend to sell the cattle off at a profit in time, and then I want to open the ranch to wealthy visitors, a place where even Robin Leach will want to run an episode of ‘Life styles of the Rich and Famous.’ Only the best, of course.” Smiling, she said, “Can you imagine Tom Cruise and his wife staying here?”
Phillip couldn’t. Gloria stared at Beatrice as if she’d sprouted another head.
Alex shrugged. “Don’t count your movie stars before they arrive, Beatrice.”
“We’ll be known far and wide for our tasteful, genteel hospitality.” With a satisfied smile, she leaned back. “Of course, we’re going to have to get rid of a lot of the junk that’s accumulated during my brother’s, ah, reign at the helm of Green Forks.”
Alex gave her a jaundiced stare before taking a drink of coffee. “Do you think tasteful and genteel is some thing you could imitate, Beatrice?”
She sat back, highly affronted. “How dare you?”
“I’m not daring. I’m making an observation. From your behavior since you’ve been here, I wasn’t sure you were acquainted with the definition of those words.”
She tossed her napkin onto the table. “Alex, we don’t have to get along to live under the same roof.”
“No, we don’t.” He shrugged languidly. “I’m not planning on it, actually.”
Gloria burst into tears. “I can’t live under this kind of strain!”
Phillip patted her hand. “It’s okay, dear.”
“Get a grip, Gloria,” Beatrice commanded. “Everything in life is not a one-act play with you as the star.”
Gloria sucked in a breath, insulted, and fled the room.
Phillip watching his crying wife’s exit with concern. He turned, catching Alex’s gaze on him. His cousin had him pinned with a re lent less stare, almost as if he were waiting for his move. What was it that Alex
was waiting for?
His mother calmly buttered a biscuit as if nothing was wrong. He turned to Alex.
Phillip knew what he had to do. After listening to Alex battle with Beatrice, he could do it, too.
“Mother, I don’t think you should talk to Gloria that way,” he began cautiously.
“Why not? Someone has to snap that girl into line when she allows herself to cry all the time.”
He took a deep breath and slowly stood. “If you don’t mind, Mother, I think Gloria’s had all the snapping in she can take from you.”
“Watch your mouth, Phillip.” His mother stabbed the air with the butter knife. “Your allowance comes out of my purse, remember.”
His face burned with shame. The statement, though humiliating, was true. His entire life-style depended on his mother. “Still, I think you owe her an apology.”
“I owe her nothing. Sit down and finish your break fast.”
He started to sit before he realized it. “No, thanks,” he said, backing away from the table in jerky motions. He caught his chair before it hit the floor. “I’m not hungry.”
Without further hesitation, he, too, made a fast exit.
Alex stared down the table at Beatrice. “Your troops are deserting you.”
She gave him a nasty look. “So? Yours left a few weeks ago. This is between you and me, anyway. I don’t need backup.”
Alex forbore to comment, but he was struck by in credible realization. Gloria was crying because she felt out of place. Though it was Cos’s wheeling and dealing that had set off Daphne’s crying last night, the pressure had built because she felt out of place in Alex’s life. Beatrice had a point. His troops had deserted him. But only because Daphne thought he didn’t need her. She felt like the lesser half of their relationship.
He needed her.
The answer was obvious. He’d been going at this situation all wrong. He wanted Daphne under his roof, but the crucial point was Daphne and his family, not necessarily location. No doubt his aunt would turn the ranch into the Grace land of Texas, but he didn’t care. Whatever it took, he intended to convince his wife they belonged together.
He was leaving.
Chapter Fourteen
Alex told Nelly and Sinclair where he was heading. Then he tossed a bag of clothes into the Mercedes and headed down the road toward the Way house hold.
Cos met him at the door. “What are you doing?” he demanded, eyeing Alex’s bag.
“Coming to stay with my family.” Alex waited, wondering if Cos would run him off. Suddenly, he knew how Cos had felt all these years, too proud to ask for help of any kind. So he’d resorted to crafty maneuvers to get around Alexander, who’d been a fairly imposing king of the hill.
Alex took note of this lesson and softened his approach. “If it’s all right with you,” he amended.
“Fine by me,” Cos said, opening the door wide, “I’d rather have ya in the house than sneaking about at all hours. But you gotta get my daughter’s permission.”
“Hello, Alex,” Danita said, walking into the small entry with a baby bottle. “Going some where?”
“Here, if you’ll have me.”
Danita handed him the bottle. “You’d best go talk it over with your family. You’ll find them down the hall.”
“Thanks.” He began to head that way.
“Alex.” Cos’s voice stopped him.
“Yes?” He turned to look at his host.
“I…uh…” Cos scratched his head, skewing the little bit of hair he had. His lanky body hunched over. “I’m sorry about that earlier business.”
“Oh.” Alex knew he meant the business that had upset Daphne last night. “Cos, that’s between you and Daphne.”
“Naw, it’s ‘tween you and me.” Cos stood a little straighter. “Truth is, I’ve grown accustomed to trying to take advantage of your father. And Daphne’s right. I had no right to try to make family profit off of your misfortune. I apologize.” He ducked his head. Danita reached out and caught her husband’s hand in hers. “I hope you’ll not think the less of me for it.”
Alex felt sorry for the old man. “It means a lot to me that you see the difference between my father and me, Cos. I’d like to have a different kind of relationship with you,” he said, reaching out to shake Cos’s hand, “particularly as I’m part of your family now.” He nodded as Cos returned his hand shake. “And I plan on staying in the family. I wouldn’t mind having you in my corner.”
Cos appeared shocked by the thought of Alex being a part of his family as opposed to being on the other side of enemy lines. Danita smiled gently at him, but Alex could almost hear the thoughts churning in old Cos’s mind.
“I hadn’t thought of it thataway,” Cos said slowly.
“I’ve been seeing some things in a new light lately myself.” A wail sounded from down the hall. Alex held up the baby bottle. “I’m being summoned.”
Cos nodded, still apparently considering Alex’s words. Alex turned toward Daphne’s room. She had the three little babies spread out on blankets engaged in various activities—crying, looking around and sucking on fists.
“What are you doing?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips when she saw Alex.
“I know you said you weren’t ready to decide about our marriage, but…” Alex faltered as he stared into his wife’s lovely green eyes. “I hope you’ll reconsider. Beatrice is a crazy woman, and if I don’t stay with you, I’ll have to go to a hotel.”
She stared at him, her expression unyielding.
“Of course, that’s actually an excuse, and not a very good one.” He set down the bottle and the bag but didn’t go near Daphne. Some thing told him his wife was waiting to hear some thing—and touching her right now would be a mistake. “I can stay in a hotel. I just don’t want to. I need you, and I need my children. I miss my family.”
Her expression softened a bit. Hope rose inside Alex.
“It’s no good hiding out here,” she told him. “You’re always welcome, Alex, to see the children.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “But you being here would negate what I was trying to give you back by leaving you. And you can’t allow Beatrice to push you into running away.”
“I’m not. I’m running to my wife, and that’s different.”
“Alex, you don’t under stand—”
“I do. I really think I do. You’re upset because you think you should have had a boy.” He pointed to the blankets spread out with babies squirming in pink diapers and little dresses. “Can you really look at these little ladies and tell me you’d be happier if they were boys?”
“No,” Daphne replied, shaking her head, “but you’re the one with an entailment clause hanging over you.”
“Yes, and it was my chromosomes that chose the sex for those three little people. Daphne, I’m just so surprised at your behavior. You’ve always told me how important it is that girls and boys are treated the same. Why aren’t you living what you preach?”
“I am!” Her eyes blazed with helpless anger. “Alex, it’s too hard! The whole situation is all wrong. It was set up from the start—”
“No, it wasn’t!” he roared. “Woman, you just don’t want to listen!”
The babies started crying in unison. Daphne instantly bent to scoop one up, as did Alex.
“You can’t stay here. We don’t see eye to eye on this matter,” she told him over the top of Danielle’s head.
“I want to stay,” he insisted. “Either I do, or I want you to come with me,” he informed her over Alexis’s head. “Quite frankly, I think you’re chicken, which I find very odd in a woman who had triplets without a moment’s doubt.”
“I’m not chicken!”
“Prove it.” He slipped the bottle into Alexis’s mouth. She quieted instantly, her waving fist stilling on his chest. Despite the turmoil of his marital situation, a strange and wonderful peace filled him. He decided there was almost no better feeling in the world than trusting baby fingers resting against his h
eart.
“I don’t have to prove anything.” Supremely annoyed with him, Daphne sat on the edge of the bed and opened her shirt to Danielle. Alex’s eyes popped open appreciatively.
“No, you don’t, but so far, I think I’m the only one who’s been trying to com promise, Daphne. As your mother says, divorce is bad economy when there’s three little children involved. I realize you’ve got a lot going on right now, but I do think you could at least meet me halfway.”
Her head drooped. “Alex, you don’t under stand.”
“Try me.”
She took a deep breath, cradling her child to her as she held his gaze. “Okay. As silly as it sounds—and as irrational as it might be—it’s terribly difficult for me that Gloria is giving birth to a son.”
There. She’d said it. The terrible fear was out in the open.
She’d kill Alex if he made light of it.
“Daphne,” he said slowly, “you’re a bigger person than that.”
“I know it!” she wailed. “But I can’t help the way I feel.”
He inched closer. “You’re letting a bunch of little stuff build up to one big stop sign in our marriage. The sign should read yield, honey.”
“I know you’re right,” she whispered. “But I’m always going to feel like I didn’t do what I was expected to. And it makes it worse that Gloria can.”
“Well, I don’t care about Gloria and whatever babies she and Phillip have.” He nuzzled Alexis’s hand when it reached toward his nose. “I’m staying here with my own, Daphne. I’m not letting you toss me out. You’ll just have to accept that I’m the one who needs some thing this time.”
She couldn’t believe that. He had money, power, good looks.
“Alex, it’s not the same.”
“It is. I have no roof over my head, no food on the table and no family to help me. I’m starting over from the be ginning like every body else.”
“With just several million to make your struggle a little less painful,” she reminded him. Still, her ears heard the magical promise he was making. He needed her. And she had to admit that his determination to keep their marriage together was deliciously appealing. She had thought, given the easy way out, he might reconsider the wisdom of them staying together.