Ronald fought the urge to yank his hair out in frustration. “Ruth, listen to yourself. Our son is not some spawn of Satan, trying to rip apart the Quincy name and annihilate the entire town while he’s at it. And he’s not a child. Open up your eyes and see. See what kind of man our boy will become. I’m proud of everything he’s accomplished so early in his life, proud of where he’s going.”
Lord, he was tired. It was almost an effort to sit upright, but he forced his spine to stiffen, and gripped the arms of his wheelchair. He had to make her see reason. Before she tried to do something she’d forever regret.
Finally, he said, “Ruth, there isn’t a thing you can do to oust our son from the family will. It’s set up much the same as it was when I was a boy, except Travis’s name replaced mine in the wording as my sole heir. You know this. I explained it, years ago.”
“What if I told the Board of Trustees you weren’t in full possession of your faculties, Ronald?” Her voice lowered, turned sly. She looked at him with glittering eyes. “You said yourself Travis is old enough to choose his own future and mate. What if the board got wind of the scandal surrounding the girl our son has chosen? You think they’d wax sentimental over the course of true love, versus the kind of damage a merger with the Turner family would instigate?”
He could only regard her with crushing disappointment. “You’d reveal your past after years of secrecy, all you went through, just to spite the Turner family and make the board doubt my ability to run the legacy?”
It had come to this. To bend their son to her will, she’d rip her privacy wide open to the opinions and gossip of a typical small town and its small town mentality, ruin the name of a good family, break her son’s heart. All in an attempt to control not only Travis’s life, but Annie’s, too. And, in an indirect way, Catherine Cabot’s as well, for she’d never stopped trying to force a match between Trav and Catherine.
It was too much. It had to stop.
His chest ached, heart sore from the confrontation and the fury of what had been spoken in this room, this morning. He needed to rest. But first he had to nip it in the bud, once and for all. Then he could rest.
Weariness dragged at him as he struggled to maintain his authority. “Ruth, there’s nothing you can do to hurt the Turner family. Let it go, for God’s sake. It’s over. If you want it in terms of black and white, then fine: you have lost the war, my love. Stop this insanity, now. Or you’ll lose your son’s respect and affection, too.” With nothing left to say, Ronald wheeled through the side door of the study.
Numbed, Ruth sank onto a side chair. He wasn’t going to change his mind. He wasn’t going to stop their son from this path of madness. She buried her face in her hands as she recalled some of Travis’s final words.
“Someday soon the Turners will be my in-laws.”
She couldn’t bear it. The thought of her son’s blood mingled with the trashy Turners caused her own blood to freeze in her veins like ice.
Mingled. A child.
Merciful heavens, what if there was a child? Ruth dropped her hands from her face as fresh horror assailed her. Of course, there’d be a child. What else did trash do, but impregnate each other and beget more trash?
As soon as she thought it she chastised herself for lumping her own son in with the kind of lowlifes who only wanted to fornicate and thus make babies the world could surely do without. Travis wasn’t anything like those Turners. Even at his most defiant, after he infuriated her past the point of reason, he wasn’t anything like them. Deep in her heart, she had faith in her son and in his sensibilities. He was merely under some kind of spell. It was that horrid girl’s fault, all of it.
She didn’t know what sort of influence the Turner family had over her son, but she would find out. And then she’d obliterate it.
Obliterate them.
The urge to hibernate appealed to Ronald as he wheeled into his suite. Maybe he could pretend the morning’s heartaches had never happened. But life went on inside Quincy Hall, regardless of the family dynamics. He supposed it would have to.
He pressed chilled fingers to his temples to ease the pain of another tension headache. He’d been getting them more often. His nurse, Phoebe, clucked over him daily. She’d take his blood pressure and order him to relax more often. His doctors, too, told him to let go of any stress, or risk a second stroke. He’d tried, Lord only knew. He released a great deal of the daily responsibilities to his board of trustees and to his assistant, Dan Marley, who held the position open until Travis graduated from Yale.
Weary and sad, Ronald maneuvered his chair to the French doors that led onto his private terrace and looked out at the glitter of sun-dappled snow on the sculptured landscaping. How long had it been since he’d sat in the sun and enjoyed its warmth on his face? And how many years had it been since Ruth sat next to him on one of the pretty marble benches, holding his hand?
After today’s painful revelations, another relaxing interlude with his wife might never again happen.
He should have gotten professional counseling for Ruth and helped her to find whatever closure possible. Instead, he’d allowed her to bury her head and her emotions under a blanket of false security, and he turned a blind eye to her increasing phobias. Now he needed to fix it as much as he could. He needed to do right by his son.
Even if it meant hurting the woman he loved so much.
Phoebe Sherman paused in the kitchen doorway and viewed the late-morning bustle with a smile on her freckled face. The aromas coming from the huge stove and oven were heavenly. She needed to get upstairs and see to Mr. Ronald, but she couldn’t resist a fast visit to the kitchen, especially when it smelled this wonderful.
Martha chattered with Jenny and Bette, the other day maid, as she deftly frosted a layered cake. The long butcher-block table was already covered with crystal dishes heaped with delicious food. Glazed fruit tarts and an elaborate tower of cold shrimp took up space next to bowls of dipping sauces, several pies, and trays of cheeses. A wide silver tray of thinly sliced meats almost edged out a fancy display of delicate iced petits fours. There would be champagne punch and an assortment of crisp and fruity wines from the Quincy’s extensive wine cellar.
Phoebe sighed in delight. She and the rest of the household staff would have their own fun luncheon in the kitchen later on, for Martha always prepared more than enough food each year.
She smiled at everyone and announced, “I’m going up to check on Mr. Ronald. Save me some of that cake, Martha, if you know what’s good for you.” Phoebe made a face at Martha and was happy to see her co-worker grin at her. They needed a bit of levity today, when Mrs. Quincy and her lady friends would just about run Martha and the maids off their feet, catering to their every whim.
Martha shooed Phoebe out the door, flapping her apron. “Go on with you. I’ll put together an especially delicious plate for Ronnie’s lunch. And don’t worry, no roast beef. I’ll make sure he has several slices of turkey, and some shrimp, too.”
“You’re a saint, Martha. I’ve always said so.” With a wink, Phoebe ran from the kitchen before Martha could snap her apron again. The great hall was empty and quiet, the drawing room door tightly shut. Either Mrs. Quincy was in there, or in the study. Phoebe shrugged and headed up the stairs. Maybe she’d cajole Mr. Ronald into a short nap before his lunch. She stepped through the door of his suite with a lingering smile on her face.
That smile faded into white-faced horror when she looked toward the windows.
Chapter 12
In the passenger seat, Annie sat with her hands folded together, staring down at them. Other than some details about her oldest brother’s recent engagement to Sissy Walker, the girl he’d dated through high school, she’d been quiet almost all the way into Charlottesville. Travis didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a lot to think about, either.
He wanted a long, fun-filled day with Annie. The two of them, hand in hand as they strolled along the crowded streets like any other couple in l
ove. Maybe a cup of coffee in a cute little cafe somewhere along Main Street and some holiday shopping, a late lunch, some more shopping. Maybe a stolen kiss, here and there throughout the afternoon. A leisurely drive home with another sweet kiss under the porch light.
Just some more normal time with his girl was all he wanted.
He reached for her and drew her close. She uttered a broken sigh as her arms curled around his neck. He breathed her in, his mouth against her temple, and brushed a caress over her cheek until he could reach her lips. He loved the way they parted for him, so responsive. When he pulled away, her face glowed, and he felt a thousand percent better.
She whispered to him as she pressed her cheek to his. “Are you okay now? Because we can stay here as long as you need to, Travis. We can go back if you’d rather do that, too.”
“And miss shopping with you? I don’t think so.” He mugged a goofy face at her and got her to giggle. The sound warmed his heart.
He played with a lock of her hair. “Let’s get something to eat first. What are you hungry for? Anything you want.” Travis knew exactly what she’d choose.
And sure enough, she answered, “Big Mac. And lots of fries. Maybe an apple pie?”
With a laugh, he gathered her closer, a final, tight hug, then let her go. As he helped her from the car, he commented, “I don’t think a little squirt like you can eat that much food.” He caught her hand as they walked down the busy sidewalk.
She swung their joined hands between them. “No? Then why stop at McDonald’s?”
“I knew you’d nag me if I didn’t.”
She huffed at him as he tugged her up the sidewalk, past the familiar golden arches. “I never nag.”
“Uh-huh.” Travis pushed her inside and up to the first line they came to. She stood in front of him, a slender slip of a girl with a huge smile on her face and boundless love in her heart, so real, so palpable, he swore he could taste it as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder.
Mine. She’s mine. I’ll never let her go. I’ll never lose her. Not for anyone or anything.
Three days from Christmas and with years and years of loving each other stretching ahead, it was easy to believe.
Ruth stood in the foyer and wrung her hands as she watched the emergency team take Ronald out the front door on a stretcher. An oxygen mask covered most of his face and what was visible around the mask appeared gray and drawn. She took three steps toward the open double front door, and froze.
Martha, behind her with Ruth’s coat in her hands, pushed at her none too gently. “Ruth, we have to go.” When she didn’t budge, Martha pushed again and grabbed one of Ruth’s arms, trying to force it into the coat. “I said, let’s go. Now. Your husband needs you.”
Ruth yanked her arm away and wrapped both of them around her body as one of the emergency team members strode partway up the steps. He called, “Ma’am, we need to get on the road. Are you coming or not?”
She didn’t answer, and the team member shook his head in exasperation and ran back down the steps. He shouted over his shoulder to Martha. “We’re taking him to Rockingham Memorial.” He jumped in the back of the ambulance, and they raced down the long driveway.
Martha cursed aloud, something she seldom allowed herself to do. She whirled from the open doorway and grabbed both of Ruth’s arms, then shook her. “You listen to me, missy. That’s your husband in the back of that ambulance. He needs you to be his wife right now, not some scared girly who can’t step out of her own damned house. Phoebe is pulling the car around, and you’re going to get into it with me, and we’re all driving to the hospital. Now.”
“No, I can’t. You know I can’t. The ladies will be here any minute. We have a luncheon to serve.” Ruth trembled in Martha’s grip. The distant stare of someone in deep shock might have been in her eyes, but her voice was eerily calm.
“Oh for God’s—I don’t have time for this. Jenny!” The young day maid came running as Martha hustled Ruth toward the doors. “Call everyone on the luncheon guest list and tell them it’s canceled. Do not tell them why, you understand?” In tears, Jenny nodded as Martha pushed and pulled Ruth down the porch steps. Ruth fought her every step of the way.
Wild-eyed now, she resisted, trying to dig in her heels. “No. I never leave the house. Ronald promised me I’d never have to leave the house. Let go of me!”
Relentless, Martha dragged her by both hands, yanking her up when she tripped on the slick concrete steps. The car waited at the bottom of the stairs, the rear door open with Phoebe nearby, ready to trap Ruth inside and slam the door before she could leap out. Martha muscled her onto the seat. She jumped into the front after Phoebe locked Ruth in the back and dashed around to the driver’s side. They roared down the driveway before Martha got her door latched.
Martha turned a grim face to the younger woman as she maneuvered the slippery road. “Phoebe, she’s losing it. What on earth are we going to do?”
Phoebe blinked away a sudden flood of tears. “We’ll take care of her. We’ll take care of them both.”
They sped toward Harrisonburg as Ruth sobbed in the back seat, demanding to be taken home.
She didn’t once mention her husband.
Annie peeked inside the brightly patterned bag for at least the twentieth time and sighed once more at the soft, pale yellow sweater nestled atop red tissue paper. Out of the corner of his eye, Travis saw her moon over the gift and had to stifle a grin at her excitement. It was only a sweater, but Annie reacted to it as if he’d given her a bag of pure gold. And there lay the difference between her and other girls he’d met over the years, both in Thompkin and at the exclusive all-girl boarding school adjacent to the Academy.
Annie didn’t know his impulsive gift was expensive cashmere. It was fluffy, soft and in her favorite color, and he’d thought to give it to her. That was enough to thrill her, and she’d jumped into his arms and kissed him.
Annie blushed when she looked up and caught Travis grinning at her. “You think I’m silly.” She wrinkled her nose at him as she fingered her new sweater, and leaned toward him to kiss him yet again. “I love it, Travis. I can’t wait to try it on.” He started to remind her she could try it on any time she chose, and she shook her head. “No way. You know how clumsy I am. I’d either rip it or spill something on it before I could even get it home.”
“Then I should go back and buy you the green one, too.” He started to rise from his chair, and she grabbed his arm in both hands.
“No! Travis, you can’t buy me another sweater. You’ve given me way too much already.” She pulled him back into his seat. “You don’t have to buy me things.”
“But I like buying you things. And you want to know why?” Travis cupped her face in his hands and brought her close. She nodded, her beautiful eyes locked on his. “I like it because you’ve never asked for anything in return. You give and give of yourself, and never think anyone is going to give you a thing back, and then when I do, you’re always so surprised. The day I fell in love with you was the day you gave me half your fish and all of your worms.” He watched her eyes fill up with tears.
She uttered a tremulous sigh. “Travis . . . oh, I want to marry you. I’d give anything if we didn’t have to wait.” In the middle of a food court in the mall, they leaned into each other and kissed, the gesture a pledge between them. At a nearby table, a few boys Travis’s age whooped and whistled as their girlfriends shushed them.
Ignoring the hooting, Travis held her closer. “I don’t want to wait, either. I love you so much.” He pulled away, to look into her eyes. “Will you wear my ring, Annie? Right now, today, will you let me put a ring on your finger and wear it, even in front of your folks and mine?”
Her bottom lip quivered as she nodded. “My folks love you, Travis. They’ll be happy.”
“Even Suze? You think she’ll be okay with this?” It was a feeble joke at best, but they both needed some humor before they drowned in the overload of emotion pa
ssing between them.
Annie rested her head on his shoulder and wiped the tears from her cheek. “Susan will want to kill me, but she’ll hug us both. She gave me the outfit I wore to your party. It was hers, but she said I could have it. And she said—um—never mind.” Annie pressed her lips together.
“What? Did she upset you? I’ll wring her neck if she upset you.”
She was quick to reassure. “No, honestly, she wasn’t mean at all. She just said you wouldn’t know what hit you, when you saw me in my new clothes.” Her blush was adorable. “She even asked if I needed any money.”
“Are you sure it was Susan? Maybe it was an alien or a clone.”
She pinched him. “Don’t make fun of my sister.”
When he took her hand and pulled her from her seat, she protested, “Now where are we going?”
He guided her into the first jewelry store he saw. “I’m getting you a ring. And then I’m going to ask you to marry me.” When he looked at her, Annie’s eyes had gone huge with emotion.
“Now? Right now? Before you say anything to your folks? Travis—”
“Right now, Annie.” He nudged her toward a display case loaded with diamonds and precious gems.
“But—”
Travis clapped a playful palm over her mouth, shushing her, and grinned at the young salesclerk behind the glittering display case. “Hi. We just got engaged. Do you have anything that matches her eyes?”
The salesclerk returned his grin. “I have some deep smoky topaz. It’s not quite as dark as her eyes, but I think you’ll like it. A plain setting, or with baguettes?”
While Annie gulped, he settled her into a leather chair placed in front of the display case, and replied as if he’d been buying jewels all of his life. “A solitaire, preferably emerald-cut. Gold setting, diamond baguettes. Nothing too big,” he picked up her left hand and kissed the back of it, “since she has very delicate fingers.”
Promises to Keep Page 9