Thunder on the Plains

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Yes, I suppose we can be grateful for that much. I just hope it’s over with soon. It’s frightening to think of people in the same country fighting each other.”

  “Some folks say it’s going to get mighty ugly before it’s over.”

  Sunny shivered, deciding to change the subject. She was not ready to think about this war. “Thirty years is a long time,” she told Page. “Didn’t you ever want to do anything else besides drive for my father?”

  “No, ma’am. Your father was always good to me. I like this job just fine, and I’ve got a nice house to go along with it.”

  Sunny realized as she watched him that while her father was alive, she had never questioned how or why others had come into the Landers employ. Even his business associates were simply people that had always been in Bo Landers’s life. Now she would find out who had been kind to her out of sincerity, and who had only been kowtowing to Bo Landers because of his wealth and power. She did not look forward to this day, but seeing to her father’s wishes had to start sometime, and no day was going to be a good day for it.

  The carriage clattered over the brick streets, and Sunny caught the smell of the lake in the air. She had spent many long days sitting on the bluff looking out at Lake Michigan, sometimes imagining that the rolling waves were the rolling grasslands of Nebraska, or speculating what it might be like to sail across that lake and never come back.

  She nodded to a few people who recognized her, thinking about what the general public might be saying about her—that she was a spoiled brat, that she was the one who had created problems over the will, that she had talked her father into giving her practically everything, made sure the rest of the family got cheated out of their fair share.

  She decided to let them think what they wanted. She had never asked to be given so much, and she had worked hard at her father’s side to learn all that she knew. She was the only one who had believed in his dreams, the only one who would make sure those dreams got finished.

  “Page, I never thought to ask you, but you must have known my mother, didn’t you?”

  The man was silent for a moment. “Yes, ma’am,” he finally answered.

  “What was she like? Was she as beautiful as in the painting in our house?”

  “No painting could do her justice,” he answered. “And she was right kind to everybody.”

  To Sunny’s dismay, she realized how little she knew about her mother’s heritage or past. While her father was alive, she had never asked anyone else about the woman, since her father was always right there to answer all her questions. Who better to ask than Bo Landers? It never seemed necessary to ask anyone else, and she always felt that her jealous brothers would not have told her the truth anyway.

  Still, she realized now that her father had never told her much, except that he had all but worshipped the woman, who had brought him new joy and vitality. She had no doubt whatsoever that they had loved each other very much. As far as personals about her mother, she knew only that Bo had met her in New York. He had told her that the woman’s parents were dead and she had no brothers or sisters. Her maiden name was Madison, Lucille Madison, a beautiful woman in a lovely painting who had never held her, whose touch Sunny had never felt. She wished she could hear her voice just once.

  She remained quietly lost in thought as Page headed the carriage into town. She could not help being nervous, wondering now if she was ready for this. The carriage pulled up in front of the seven-story Landers Enterprises building, the tallest building in Chicago. Page climbed down and opened the carriage door, helping her out. “You go get ’em, Miss Sunny,” he told her with a grin.

  Sunny smiled. “Thank you, Page. I needed to hear that. Be back here at four o’clock, will you?”

  Page nodded, and Sunny faced the front door, holding her chin high and taking a deep breath before walking inside, where she greeted secretaries and managers. She sensed their smiles were false, felt a few accusing looks. She ignored them, deciding that in time she would win them all over. She thought how strange it was that when her father was alive and she was just “Bo’s daughter,” everyone was kind to her. Now that everything belonged to her, there came the jealousy and the gossip. Only one of the several young women she had once called friends had bothered to come and see her the last few weeks, and Sunny suspected even that visit was out of curiosity. Some thought you had lost your mind and would never return to society, Helen Graves had told her, looking her over as though she were something dangerous and insane.

  Now they know I have returned, she thought, glad now she had not warned anyone she would be in today. Catching them by surprise helped her get an idea of how they truly felt. If they knew she was coming, they might be ready with flowers and falsely kind greetings.

  She entered the elevator, never ceasing to be amazed at the new steam-powered invention her father had had installed just last year. After riding in such a contraption in New York City, he had promptly decided that the Landers Enterprises building must have one, and what Bo Landers wanted, Bo Landers got. She hoped she would be able to deal with people with the same authority.

  She reached the top floor, pushing open the elevator gate and stepping into the hall. Her heart ached when she stared at the door to her father’s spacious office, Bo Landers was still painted on the glass of the outer door. She touched it lovingly, forcing back tears as she stepped inside the secretary’s office. Thirty-two-year-old Tod Russell jumped to his feet in surprise. “Miss Landers! You’re here!”

  Sunny watched him closely, seeing the confusion and sudden defense in his eyes. Tod had worked for her father for twelve years, through a marriage and two children. He was good at what he did, a loyal employee who was paid well.

  “In the flesh,” she answered. “I sent a messenger out last night to all the board members that I’m calling a meeting today. I guess I should have told you too. I’m sorry, Tod. Would you prepare the boardroom, make sure there are ashtrays, coffee, and all? We aren’t meeting until ten o’clock, so there’s plenty of time. I’d like you to fill me in on what’s been going on. Stuart says that you and he and Vince have been able to keep things going reasonably well, but there must be certain things that need attention right away.” She headed for the door to her father’s office. “If it weren’t for all the legal problems Vincent gave me, I could have attended to these things much sooner. Heaven only knows what Vince has managed to deliberately ruin during all of this.”

  She hesitated at the door, realizing Tod had not spoken or made a move. She turned to look at him, and he stood staring at her strangely. He was a short, rather stocky man with looks as plain as a door. Tod was all business, usually prompt, efficient, scurrying; but he was making no moves at the moment. “Is something wrong, Tod?”

  His eyes moved over her strangely, showing none of the pleasant welcome he had always given her when she came here with her father. “Well, I, uh, I’ve been handling a lot of things alone, Miss Landers, and I’ve had all this time to think; but I, well, you surprised me before I had a chance to decide.”

  “Decide what?”

  “Well, I’m just not sure I can work for you. I mean, to work for a woman is bad enough, but your age. I mean, how would it look, a man my age taking orders from an unmarried nineteen-year-old woman?”

  Sunny’s blue eyes blazed with the affront. “I am the same Sunny Landers who has always been coming here, Tod, the same one you used to greet with a smile. You took orders from me when my father was alive, so what is the difference?”

  He reddened slightly, touching a sideburn nervously. “But everybody knew then that Bo was the real boss. You were just, I don’t know, just Sunny.”

  “Well, I’m not just Sunny anymore! If it helps, you can think of me as my father.” She faced him more fully, putting her hands to her waist. “I am not entirely happy with the tremendous burden all of this means for me, T
od, but if you had any respect for my father, then you should respect his choice as to who should be his successor. You know perfectly well that I am capable of carrying on in his place.”

  She took a deep breath to boost her courage, hooking the strings of her purse over her arm and removing her white gloves finger by finger. “I suppose the decision is yours, Tod, but I will remind you that this has always been a good-paying job. You have been able to provide for your family well because of it. If it helps your pride any, I will give you a ten dollar a week raise. I have far too much to do to have to worry about breaking in someone new. It would be a great help to me if you stayed on.” She held his gaze, deciding to play up to his pride. “In all honesty, I need you. I don’t think anyone else could handle the job nearly as well as you.”

  She saw his eyes soften a little. “Well, thank you,” he said almost humbly. “I didn’t mean any offense, Miss Landers. You have to admit it’s a rather strange situation for me.”

  “I can see where it might be, but you will find me all business, Tod, just as eager to get to what needs doing as my father would be. In fact, I want you to make arrangements for me for a trip to New York in three days. It is still safe to travel by train to the east, isn’t it? I’m afraid I haven’t kept abreast of what is happening with the war.”

  “Not much has happened yet, except that eleven southern states have now seceded, and General Robert E. Lee resigned from the army and will join the rebels. That’s, uh, that’s what northerners are calling the southerners. Poor President Lincoln has walked into an awful political mess, I’m afraid. As far as travel goes, there is nothing dangerous in it so far.”

  “Good, then I will be going to New York.”

  “Yes, ma’am. By the way, there is some recent mail on your father’s—I mean, your desk. There is one there from Thomas Durant. I just thought you should be aware of it.”

  “Fine.” Sunny opened her purse and put her gloves inside.

  “And thank you, Miss Landers, for the raise. I wasn’t asking for one.”

  “I know that, but you probably deserve it.” Sunny put her hand on the knob of the door that led into her father’s office. “And you always called me Sunny before, Tod.”

  “I know. But now that you’re my boss, I just feel better calling you Miss Landers.”

  Sunny closed her eyes in exasperation. “Whatever suits you.” She opened the door to her father’s office.

  “Miss Landers—”

  She turned, meeting Tod’s eyes expectantly. “Yes?”

  “I, uh, I’m awful sorry about your father. He was always real good to me. I wanted to talk to you at the funeral, but, well, you were pretty bad off. I’ve done some grieving of my own.”

  The pain returned to Sunny’s stomach. She still remembered so little about the funeral. “Yes, thank you,” she told Tod.

  He shook his head. “In spite of feeling strange working for you, I do want to compliment your courage, Miss Landers. I can’t help wondering what the business world will think, dealing with a young woman.”

  “They’ll just have to get used to it, I guess.”

  Sunny turned and went into her father’s office, closing the door and leaning against it. She reminded herself that this room was hers now, and it gave her the shivers. She gathered her courage and walked across the deep green plush carpeting, and immediately the memories came flooding over her, the lingering smell of cigar smoke making them even sharper and more painful. She could almost see Bo Landers sitting behind the huge mahogany desk. “Lord, help me,” she whimpered. The room was cool, and dark as a tomb. It made her shiver, and she hurried over to jerk open the green velvet drapes that hung at three huge windows, letting in the morning light.

  Since the room was on the seventh floor, it was sheltered from the noise of the streets below. The only sound was the quiet ticking of a grandfather clock that stood in one corner. Sunny felt surrounded by Bo Landers, wished she were little again and could sit on his lap and let him take care of everything. Tears stung her eyes at the hurt of it, and she decided she would redecorate the office in a more feminine way. She couldn’t bear to come in here every day with so much of her father in everything she saw and touched. She looked up at the painting of her at ten years old that still hung behind his desk. That would have to come down. Maybe she would replace it with a painting of a locomotive. That would be more fitting.

  Mustering her courage, she moved behind the desk and sat in the huge leather chair. The chair too, would have to be replaced. It simply did not fit her small frame. She felt lost in it. She blinked back tears and picked up the mail, thumbing through it, seeing the letter from Thomas Durant and setting it aside.

  The door opened then, and she looked up to see Stuart standing there. She smiled softly. Over the past weeks, because of the close relationship she had developed with Vi, she had inadvertently grown closer to Stuart, who had been surprisingly kind since Bo’s death. “Most people knock first,” she said, teasingly as she stood up.

  “I would have, except that I was so surprised to hear you had come in already. I didn’t think you’d be here before nine.” He walked closer. “You sure you’re ready for this, Sunny?”

  “Is there ever a right time for these things?”

  He looked her over with a smile. “You’ve got to put on some weight. And your eyes—you look terrible.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a mock smile.

  “You know what I mean. Vince will hit you with everything he’s got right off. He’s out to break you, Sunny. He’s been talking to everybody on the board about how they can get around you, telling them how you’ll need all kinds of help, how a girl of nineteen can’t handle this.”

  “I can handle it, and I can handle Vince. I’ve already proven that. If the others don’t want to cooperate, I’ll buy them all out if I have to. I wonder how Vince would like it if I bought up the eleven percent investor-owned portions of the shipping and warehousing. That would give me fifty-one percent ownership, and Vince only forty-nine percent. Maybe the threat of that would shut him up.”

  Stuart grinned. “I can see you’ve already thought about how to handle him.”

  “When it comes to Vince, it’s necessary to try to stay one step ahead. If he does anything to block my railroad investments or anything else to do with Father’s dreams of a transcontinental railroad, he will regret it.”

  Stuart smiled and shook his head. “By God, you are a chip off the old block.”

  Sunny sat down again, suddenly weary. She leaned back, the big chair dwarfing her. “Why does he hate me so, Stuart? Is it just the money? It seems like the hatred is directed right at me, like he’d hate me even if he had gotten what he wanted in the will.”

  Stuart shrugged, averting her eyes. How would she feel if she knew the truth about her mother? “Vince isn’t really as bad as you think. And he doesn’t hate you. I guess he just, I don’t know, resents you, I guess. He knows nothing is really your fault, but it’s just easiest to take it all out on you. He and Dad haven’t gotten along for years. That’s just the way it is. I don’t know how to change it. You know I kind of resented you myself, but Vi has taught me a lot about tolerance and such. It’s hard to live with her and remain a ruthless businessman.”

  Sunny smiled again. “I can understand, and I’m glad you married her. I don’t know what I would have done without her help these past months. I know Vince makes things hard on you and Vi too, Stuart. Maybe we can help each other.”

  He leaned over her desk, and Sunny noticed he seemed to get a little balder every day. “Well, that’s part of the reason I came in here—to tell you I’ll help all I can. Are you keeping Tod as a secretary?”

  “I have to. He knows too much, and he’s too efficient; but he told me straight out he didn’t like the thought of working for a woman. I’m afraid I had to bribe him with a
raise to get him to stay.”

  Stuart laughed lightly and straightened again. “He’ll get used to the idea. Besides, who wouldn’t want to work for someone as sweet and beautiful as you?”

  “A lot of people,” she answered sarcastically, “all male.”

  He waved her off. “There might be a few stubborn ones, but you’ll win them over. I have no doubt that in six months’ time they’ll all be eating out of your hand. So will those men in Washington. You can charm them into giving you any vote you want.” He headed for the door. “I’ll give you some time to get ready. We’ll get things set up in the boardroom.”

  “Thanks, Stuart.”

  He left, and Sunny put her head back for a moment, glad she had at least one brother on her side. She picked up the rest of her mail and quickly thumbed through it, deciding most of it could be read later, except for Durant’s letter. She was about to set it all aside when she noticed an unusual return address. She studied it closer, her eyes widening with shock. “Travis, Pony Express, Fort Kearny, Nebraska.”

  “Travis,” she whispered. Colt? It seemed impossible. A prickly chill moved over her as she quickly tore open the envelope, pulling out the folded letter. It was written on plain, cheap paper, and the penmanship was a little shaky. She smiled at the thought of how little opportunity such a man had to write at all, and she was impressed with the apparent effort at neatness. But why on earth had he written her after four years?