Violet

by Greenwood, Leigh

  "Most is not good enough," Jeff replied. "Besides, Rose and George will soon be here."

  "They really are coming?"

  "They probably boarded a train today."

  "What are they like?" Violet had often wondered what kind of people could have produced the twins.

  "They're nothing like those hellions, if that's what you're wondering. But I'll let you make up your own mind. Is there anything you'd like me to do before I leave?"

  Violet was almost too startled to answer. Jeff had never said anything like that to her before. He usually just turned and left. Period.

  "I've taken up enough of your morning as it is."

  He smiled a rare smile. "Don't worry. I still have all night to catch up with the money that got away this morning."

  He was never going to let her forget that, but she wished she hadn't said it. If had obviously touched a sensitive nerve.

  She watched him go, but for the first time she didn't feel he was walking out of her life. It seemed she had always known him, like he had always been there. She marveled it could have happened so quickly, so easily, when she was a damned Yankee and he a stiff-necked Southerner.

  What a combination, yet despite their differences, he answered some need in her. Even now she felt herself trying to reach out to him, to will him to come back. She hadn't felt that way when Nathan Wainwright asked her to marry him. She had watched him leave, sad, but certain she had been right.

  She was equally certain now that she couldn't let Jeff go.

  * * * * *

  Violet was stunned to see Jeff waiting at the school when she arrived with the girls. She immediately ordered the twins inside and to their room.

  "I thought you had work to do," she said the minute the twins were out of sight.

  "I do, but I'm determined Miss Settle is not going to blame you for what those brats did. Nobody can control them. I'll be happy to let her try if she thinks differently."

  Violet was immensely pleased. "I'm not afraid of Miss Settle."

  "I'm sure you're not, but she's not likely to take her displeasure out on you if I'm present."

  Violet had no desire to have a peal rung over her head. She had done the best she could, but with fourteen other girls to care for, she simply couldn't keep an eye on the twins every minute.

  "I thought you never played the knight errant." She shouldn't tease him. He wouldn't like it, and it wasn't kind after what he'd done for her.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Helping the damsel in distress."

  Jeff looked at a loss. Then as understanding dawned, Violet saw a series of emotions mold his expression. She was surprised when the one that won out was a smile. Her heart did a little flip-flop. She wished he would smile more often.

  "That's a Randolph tradition, but it's not one I've bothered with before. It inevitably lands us in a lot of trouble."

  "Aren't you afraid it'll do that to you?"

  "It already has."

  That statement was too provocative, too potentially interesting to leave alone.

  "What kind of trouble are you in?"

  "Female trouble."

  That wasn't exactly how she hoped he would phrase it. She decided to give him another chance. His damsel-rescuing skills were rusty. But then he'd just admitted he had kept them on the shelf most of his life.

  "I think it a little unkind to say female in that manner when you're talking about your nieces. I admit they're a lot of trouble, but they are basically sweet girls."

  They had reached the steps of the building that held Miss Settle's office. Jeff stopped. She paused and turned toward him.

  "They are holy terrors, completely uncontrollable. But it's you I'm talking about, and you know it."

  She gaped at him. It was the answer she'd been hoping for, but she was still unprepared when she got it.

  "I like you, dammit, and I don't want to."

  That she expected. In fact, it was so much what she expected, she couldn't help but smile. Things were back to normal. She understood this Jeff.

  "Not all Yankees are wicked," she said. "Some of us have been known to be quite nice."

  Good God! She could feel her eyelashes lower then flutter provocatively. She just knew her smile was simpering, teasing. She was flirting, right here within sight of half of Denver, and with Jeff Randolph, the most flirt-resistant man God ever made. She tried to pull herself together. She wasn't certain she knew how she wanted to rearrange her feelings. Things didn't feel all that bad just now.

  "Stop being intentionally dense. And unless you've got something in your eye, stop screwing up your face and look at me."

  Definitely rusty. In fact, he had no skills at all. She wondered if he would ever develop any. From the depth of the frown he wore, she didn't figure it was high on his priority list.

  "It was okay when I just thought you were pretty. Even the most terrible females can be pretty. My nieces spring immediately to mind. It wasn't even too bad when I wanted to kiss you. Has anybody ever told you you have a very kissable mouth? You don't paint your lips, but they're full and pink, not thin and white. It was okay that I find the rest of you attractive as well. But I started to like you. I started to admire you. Not much," he hastened to add, "but some."

  He turned away, as though he wanted to leave, to escape the whole embarrassing business.

  "Then I started to think about you all the time. I found your image getting in the way of my work. I'd be staring at a column of figures, reading a report, and I'd see your face. I'd have no idea what I'd just read. I'd remember something you said, something you did. You ruined my entire working schedule. Now I'm here!"

  He seemed to find that the most unacceptable of all.

  "I have a desk covered with work, an office full of clerks waiting on me. Am I at my desk, doing my work, keeping my clerks running until their tongues hand out? No! I'm here to make sure that dragon doesn't try to blame this whole thing on you."

  He looked stunned at his own folly.

  Violet hoped she wasn't screwing up her face, but she just knew she was smirking again and acting like there was something caught in her eye. Never had a string of complaints sounded so much like music to her ears. She was delighted to know Jeff was caught and dangling on the same hook that had caught in her heart almost from the first.

  She figured she had to be crazy to want to spend as much as five minutes in the company of this misogynist. Her father and brother had been two of the most mild-mannered men ever born. Her mother had been gentle and understanding. She could only assume that, as an antidote for all that sweetness, she needed a dose of vinegar with a little vitriol thrown in to give it bite.

  Jeff Randolph certainly qualified on all counts.

  "You don't have to stay. I'm really quite capable of facing her by myself."

  "I'll stay," he said. He took her elbow and started her toward the door.

  "You don't want to be here."

  "I'd be miserable anywhere else."

  * * * * *

  When they were finally ushered into Miss Settle's office, Violet had to admit she was glad Jeff had come with her. Miss Settle appeared to be on the verge of having some sort of fit. The first words were almost out of her mouth when Jeff followed Violet through the doorway into her office. Miss Settle's startled reaction was almost comical.

  "Mr. Randolph, what are you doing here? I hope your nieces are safely returned."

  "They are. For the moment, Miss Goodwin has confined them to their room."

  She did seem relieved to hear that. "Good. I would hate for your family to think we couldn't take proper care of our students."

  "Nobody can take proper care of those demons," Jeff said. "If you really want to control them, buy yourself a jail cell, lock them up, and throw away the key. Then post two guards just in case they figure some way out."

  Miss Settle tittered nervously. "Mr. Randolph, the Wolfe School does not lock up its students."

  "Then don't blame Mi
ss Goodwin when they get out again."

  Miss Settle's smile was tight. "I'm certain Miss Goodwin will see that they don't. Now you must have many important decisions awaiting your attention. I appreciate your coming, but I know you won't want to sit through a tedious discussion of rules and behavior policies."

  "I came to make certain you didn't try to blame all this on Miss Goodwin," Jeff said, blunt as always.

  For a moment Miss Settle was too stunned to speak. Finally she managed to say, "Of course not."

  "Good," Jeff said. "It never does to shift the blame for problems on those below you. They never have the power to change anything. Only you can do that. It's a principle I go by. Hire the best people you can find -- like Miss Goodwin here -- give them the best tools to work with, then let them do their work. If you do that, then when something goes wrong, it's your fault."

  "I beg your pardon!" Miss Settle managed to squeak.

  "You've obviously given her an impossible task. That's your blunder. So it's up to you to figure out what she needs to do the job the way you want it done and give it to her at once."

  Jeff settled back in his chair, apparently satisfied he had explained this theory sufficient for even Miss Settle to understand.

  "It works like a charm for me. Nearly every man in my bank has been with me more than ten years. Saves times, as well. You're not forever training new people, and you have the advantage of all that experience."

  "I see," Miss Settle said, still nearly speechless. "I'm sure it's a most excellent system." She seemed to finally gather her wits. "I'm sure you will want to see your nieces before you leave. I'll let you know what I decide. Miss Goodwin, accompany Mr. Randolph."

  "Kick them out," Jeff said. "George won't like it, but it'll save you a lot of headaches."

  * * * * *

  "Jeff Randolph, how could you say such a thing about your own nieces!" Violet said once they were outside. "They're only nine."

  "It's the truth. I don't know what's gotten into them. They didn't used to be this bad."

  "I'm afraid she will expel them. There's not much else she can do."

  "Serves them right."

  "Is that all you're going to say?"

  "What else can I say? Do you think I can make them stay here, follow the rules, and act like sweetness and light?"

  "No. I doubt anybody will ever be able to do that."

  "I say cut your losses and move on." He glanced at his watch. "I'd better be getting back. If I drive everybody mercilessly, I can catch up before midnight."

  "You're not going to keep all those poor men there that late on Saturday."

  "Why not? With me running all over Denver, they haven't had a thing to do all day. Don't start in on me. I won't make them work on Sunday."

  "How generous of you."

  "Why don't you say what you really mean, that I'm a meanspirited, scrooge who'd squeeze the last drop of blood out of a turnip."

  "There's no point in saying that when you seem to take pride in it."

  "It's just the way I am. I stopped trying to fight that years ago."

  "That's not true. You've been fighting everything and everybody so hard you've completely lost sight of the man you really are."

  The easy feeling of companionship vanished instantly to be replaced by brittle tension.

  "What do you mean by that?" Jeff asked, the mask of civility slipping away. "And don't think you're going to get by with some mealy-mouthed answer. I want to know exactly what you think you're talking about."

  She wasn't sure it was wise for her to say anything further. She wasn't certain she had the right. She was venturing into an area what was none of her business, an area clearly marked with a No Trespassing sign.

  She couldn't afford to say the wrong thing. If she was going to stick her nose into forbidden territory, she at least owed it to him to know what she was talking about.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "I shouldn't have said that," Violet confessed. "I don't know you well enough to pass judgment."

  "But you already have, and I'm not going to let you back out with a coward's answer like that."

  "It's not a coward's answer," Violet protested. "You've closed yourself up tighter than a New England clam."

  "Stop stalling, and spit it out."

  She shouldn't have said anything in the first place. But she had the consolation of knowing Jeff could only blame himself if he didn't like what he heard. She had tried to back down.

  "I think you actually like having everybody disapprove of you. Maybe since nobody expects you to try to please them, they don't get upset when you do the opposite. They expect it of you."

  "Why should I like that?"

  "Because you can go around doing exactly as you please. Most of us have to make some attempt to get along. You don't. Nobody expects it."

  "What else?"

  Violet sighed. She doubted she'd ever learn to keep her mouth shut. Men didn't like the truth. Nobody did, really. If she wanted to drive Jeff away, telling him exactly what she thought of him was a good way to start.

  "I don't know how much the war still bothers you after all these years -- I suspect it's a lot less than you want anybody to believe -- but you intentionally keep the wound open. You wave your arm about to make people feel guilty. I think it was originally the way you worked off the anger at losing the war, the loss of your arm, your imprisonment, or excused your prejudice against Yankees."

  "You don't think that was important?"

  "Of course, but you outgrew that long ago. You found something you could do, and you did it. You're too busy to have time to think about that arm or brood on the war."

  She could tell he wanted to interrupt, but she was determined not to let him. He'd say plenty when he got started, but she meant to get it all out of her system now.

  "I don't mean you don't feel angry about what the war did to you, Virginia, or the thousands of men who lost their lives or their limbs. But the heat of the anger has cooled. You've grown past it. You've accepted it as a part of your life and moved on. But you've used the war and your arm as a battering ram for so long, it's become a habit. Everybody else has fallen into the habit of letting you."

  Jeff looked at her in the same manner Violet imagined a mother wolf would look at any animal that threatened her pups.

  "It amazes me that I actually thought I might need to protect you from Miss Settle," he said. "I forgot you're a Yankee. And a Yankee is equal to two or three lesser mortals. You didn't need my help. You could just have sunk your teeth into that poor woman and chewed and chewed until there was nothing left."

  Violet had been prepared for anger, but this was more than she had expected. He wasn't just angry at her. He was angry at himself. He had let himself feel, and she had rewarded him by not needing him. He was wrong, but he wouldn't believe her now if she told him. She'd been so busy trying to show him she knew everything there was to know about him, she'd lost the moment.

  She wasn't one of his simpering, helpless, clinging southern belles, and she didn't want to be. She didn't need anybody to take up for her. If that's the way he was hoping to restore his image of himself, he'd have to look somewhere else. But just because she could stand on her own two feet didn't mean she didn't need someone to lean on occasionally.

  Standing alone was a weary, lonely job. It denied her too much of what life had to offer, most of what made it worthwhile. Jeff wouldn't understand that. To him, life was a battle, a continual struggle against something, against somebody. He would never understand that just knowing he was at her side, that she was in his thoughts, that he missed her, was the greatest need she had. She didn't need his money, his social standing, even his protection. Just a small corner of his heart.

  "I do appreciate your going with me to see Miss Settle," she said. "I'll always cherish the look on her face when you told her the twins' escape was really her fault. But I did tell you that I could face her alone."

  "I remember, but you'll forgive me for hopi
ng my presence would help prevent at least one little scratch. I didn't realize I was protecting Miss Settle."

  They stood in the middle of the walk. One direction led toward the girl's dormitory. The other led to the road and back to town. It was time they went in those two different directions. It was time they parted.

  "I have to get back to the twins. They may be little terrors, but they're still nine years old, and I imagine they could use some reassurance right about now. And you," she said, before he could speak, "need to get back to your waiting clerks."

  Violet put out her hand. "I'm sorry for all the inconvenience. I appreciate your help and your kindnesses. I'll always remember my two days at the Windsor."

  Rather than take her hand, Jeff abruptly slipped his arm around her and drew her to him.

  "You're a witch," he rasped. "You ought to be burned at the stake!" Then he kissed her so roughly her senses were suspended.

  Violet abandoned reason, common sense, even basic caution, and kissed him back. She didn't understand why she should be so willing to put up with rough handling from this man, but she couldn't fight her feelings for him any longer.

  She forgot they could be seen by half the school. She forgot she and Jeff couldn't agree on anything. She was only aware that he held her in his arm, and she'd never felt better in her life.

  His strength amazed her. She felt crushed, imprisoned, incapable of moving. His kiss was rough and angry, but she didn't care. She felt rough and angry, too. She wanted to grab him and rip apart all the walls he had built around himself, to explode the barricades of his mind.

  She wanted to hold him and kiss him until he knew she loved him, knew she didn't care whether he had one arm or three, knew no matter how bad-tempered and cruel he might be, she knew inside he was just as vulnerable, just as desperate for love as everybody else.

  So she held him. She kissed him. She clung to him long after he would have let her go. She pressed her body against him so he would know she would withhold nothing from him. She promised all. She demanded nothing.