by Bobbi Smith
"I don't know . . ." Rori wasn't sure what to say. Her room at the Brodericks' had been large and comfortable, but all these here were even bigger and more expensively furnished.
The room they were in was a nice-sized one at the front of the house, and it had large, airy windows that overlooked the street below. They added an openness to this room that the other bedrooms were lacking, and Rori decided that this one was her favorite. She liked the brightness and the feeling that she wasn't closed in.
"I think I like this one, if it's all right with you?"
"It's fine with me," Charlotte told her, and then confided with a grin. "In fact, this one is my favorite, too."
They laughed easily together. When Charlotte began to offer ideas about changes they could make in the decorating scheme, Rori stared at her in confusion.
"Change it? Why would you want to change it? It's perfect."
"I thought you might like to add a few feminine touches here and there, something that would make the room say it was yours and yours alone."
"I love it just the way it is, Aunt Charlotte, but thank you." She gave the older woman a hug. "I've never had anything so wonderful in my whole life." Rori spun around in the middle of the room, delighted at the thought that it was really hers, all hers.
"I'm glad you're pleased." Charlotte smiled as she watched her grand-niece. She was glad that Aurora was happy, and she hoped she stayed that way. She still wondered what had caused her to be upset earlier that afternoon when Chance had come to call. If there was a problem, she wanted to help with it, but she knew she couldn't be pushy with her.
Later, it seemed to Charlotte that it was almost as if she'd conjured him up. One minute she was thinking about Chance and the next Rori was turning away from the window, her face pale.
"Oh, no," Rori groaned, as she saw the Brodericks' carriage draw up in front of the house and saw Chance get out with Jakie.
"What is it, dear?"
"He's here again!"
"Who? Chance?"
"Yes. Why doesn't he just go away?"
"He must want to talk with you about something."
"I know, but there's really nothing left to say," Rori responded miserably.
Charlotte was one astute lady. The look in Rori's eyes coupled with her answer clued Charlotte in to the truth of what was happening. Aurora loved Chance Broderick, but for some reason things weren't going too smoothly. The match would be a good one, she decided immediately. She just had to find a way to help smooth out their troubles. It was obvious that Chance cared about her. Why else would he keep coming back, especially after he'd been turned away so abruptly earlier that day? Her eyes were aglow at the thought of young romance, and she remembered the terrible time she and Joseph had had before they'd finally worked things out nearly forty years before.
Charlotte moved to the window to glance out and saw Chance coming up the walk with a huge monstrosity of a dog. "Is that a dog he's got with him?" she asked in wonder.
"Yes, that's Big Jake. I know I should have told you before, but I was so excited . . ."
"Told me what?"
"Big Jake's mine," Rori confessed, hoping desperately that her aunt would not object to him living with them.
"He's yours . . ." Charlotte repeated, thinking comically of how her family was growing by leaps and bounds that day.
"Yes, and he's real well trained, so he won't give you any trouble at all, Aunt Charlotte. Honest."
"I'm sure if he's your dog, he must be. We have plenty of room here. Big Jake will be most welcome."
"Thank you," Rori breathed in relief, then realized her dilemma wasn't over. She still had to deal with Chance . . . "I guess Chance thought he had to bring Jakie to me."
"Do you want to see him or shall I send him away?" Charlotte led the question easily. Rori's expression was so tormented that it confirmed Charlotte's belief that she did harbor deep feelings for him. She didn't know what had happened between them, but she was certainly going to do what she could to get these two together.
"No . . . no, I don't want to see him."
"I'll handle it, then. You wait here."
"Thanks."
Both Chance and Big Jake were a bit hesitant as their carriage drew to a stop in front of the Prescotts'. Chance didn't understand why Rori had sent him away earlier, but he felt certain that she wouldn't refuse to see him if he came with the dog. Jake gave Chance an uncertain look as they got out of the carriage.
"It's all right, big guy," Chance told him as he paused to pet him for a minute. "Rori's here and everything's going to be just fine. The Prescotts are going to love you, and if they don't, you can come live with me."
Jakie gave a happy wag of his tail and, led on his new leash by Chance accompanied him up to the house. Chance knocked as he had earlier that day, but this time it was Charlotte who answered the door.
"Good evening, Mrs. Prescott," he greeted her, keeping a firm hand on Jake.
"Good evening, Chance," she returned. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"I came to see Rori. Is she here? I've brought Big Jake for her."
"Yes, she's here, Chance, but she doesn't wish to see you."
Chance couldn't believe that she was still putting him off. "Are you sure?"
"Very sure," she replied.
"Mrs. Prescott, I have to speak with her. It's important. Would you get her for me, please?" Chance's disbelief was rapidly changing to anger. What was the matter with Rori? Why was she hiding from him?
"I'm sorry, Chance, but I can't do that." Charlotte was firm in her refusal, although she really wished she could. She had a feeling that if these two would just talk to each other they could straighten everything out, but she wouldn't betray Rori's request.
"Why not?"
"Aurora trusts me, Chance. She told me that she doesn't want to talk to you. I have to respect her wishes in this matter."
"But I don't understand . . ." Chance was truly perplexed. He'd never wanted to declare his love to a woman before, and now that he was ready to, the woman he loved wouldn't have anything to do with him. He needed a drink, a stiff one.
"I don't understand it either, but perhaps if you just give her a little time alone to think things out . . ." Charlotte's eyes were sparkling as she dropped the hint. She only hoped Chance was smart enough to understand what she wasn't saying.
"Here's Jake." He handed her the leash. "Would you see that she gets him, please? Also, I have her trunks in the carriage. I'll need some help with them."
"Of course, Chance. I'll send someone right out."
"Fine."
"Thank you for stopping by and bringing the dog."
Chance was totally frustrated as he strode down the walk to his carriage. A servant came out to help him unload Rori's things. When that was done, he climbed back inside the vehicle and ordered the driver to head home. Troubled and feeling oddly alone, he settled back in his seat, completely unaware that Rori was watching him from her upstairs bedroom window and that tears she wanted to deny were coursing down her cheeks.
Much later that night, Chance sat by himself in the dimly lit study. He had pushed his chair back away from the desk and was sitting with his feet propped on the desktop, his legs crossed at the ankles. In one hand, he held a half-empty tumbler of bourbon and in the other a nearly empty bourbon bottle. It had been a long afternoon and an even longer evening.
Chance had tried to work when he'd come home, but the effort had proven pointless. He had been obsessed with thoughts of Rori, and he hadn't been able to put the memory of her from him. He kept going over in his mind what had happened at Bethany's the night before, and he kept coming back to the same thing—nothing. They had danced, and they had argued about her choice of friends. Nothing out of the ordinary there, for they always seemed to argue about something.
Certainly, Chance reasoned, Rori would not have cut him out of her life over a simple fight about Strickland. Feeling comfortable about that conclusion, he started to
go over the events of the evening again. He had danced with Rori, then Bethany had maneuvered him outside to say good-bye to the departing guests. They'd embraced, he'd told her he didn't love her, and he'd left. Chance took a deep drink from the potent liquor and didn't even notice how strong it was. He didn't notice that his mother had knocked on the study door and then opened it.
"Chancellor?" Agatha said his name worriedly as she stepped into the room. Upon spying him sitting there drinking himself into a stupor, she spoke up. "I thought you were in here working!"
"I tried for a while," he replied vaguely, taking another drink.
"And?" she prodded. She had not spoken with him since he'd returned from the Prescotts'. He had come back in the house and had disappeared into the study and shut the door. She was dying to know what had happened and had waited as long as she could.
"And I didn't accomplish much," he paused thoughtfully. "Tell me something."
"What?"
"At Bethany's, you said Rori got upset . . . said she didn't feel well."
"Yes. I had seen her leave the ballroom with Evan and I decided to make sure he didn't try anything untoward with her, for we both know how innocent she is about such things."
Did he ever, Chance thought. "Yes."
"Well, as I went out into the hall, she was coming out of the study, and I must say she looked just ghastly."
"The study?" he remarked sharply, and he knew then exactly what had happened. Rori had been in the study, and he had been right outside the study windows making an ass out of himself with Bethany. She'd seen everything . . . well, not everything, because if she had, she wouldn't be upset. If she had stayed there long enough, she would have heard him tell Bethany that he didn't love her.
"Yes, dear, but don't worry, Evan didn't harm her in any way. They'd hardly had time to do anything."
"I know," he told her, almost delighted. He stood up, setting the glass and bottle aside, and went to her to kiss her cheek.
"You do?" Agatha was staring at him as if he'd sudden grown two heads.
"Yes. Thank you very much."
"You're welcome very much," she replied, mystified by this sudden change in him. "I came in here to ask you if you wanted something to eat. Since you didn't join me at dinner . . ."
"No. I'm not hungry," Chance told her as he made his way back to his desk and sat down, acting as if he was going to go back to work. "I think I'll try to work a little more."
"All right. Well, good night, then."
"Good night. I'll see you in the morning."
As soon as Agatha left from the room, Chance refilled his glass and leaned back in his chair. He knew now why Rori was mad at him, but he still didn't know how he was going to get to her to explain what she'd witnessed that night.
He downed some of the bourbon, remembering what Charlotte Prescott had said to him about giving Rori time to think things out. Maybe she had known what was troubling Rori and had been trying to tell him to leave her alone until she calmed down. He would do it, he decided. He would give her whatever time she needed, and then, when she was calm and would see him, he would tell her that he loved her.
Chance's spirits lightened, and he smiled drunkenly. He figured Rori had to love him if she got that angry over seeing him kiss Bethany. They revelation pleased him, and his grin grew wider for a moment before faltering. Rori had to love him, because if she didn't, he didn't know what he'd do.
The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity for Rori as Charlotte took charge of her life. Daily instructions in the basics of education were followed by dancing lessons and lessons in the social graces. She was fitted for a more complete wardrobe, and those visits to the dressmaker alone took hours and hours. She went to a few dinner parties in the company of her aunt and uncle, but Chance was never in attendance. Evan Strickland was, though, and she enjoyed being with him. His approach was unthreatening, and his conversation was interesting and witty.
Yet, even as Rori enjoyed Evan's companionship, she found herself thinking of Chance. She realized dishearteningly that he hadn't tried very hard to see her. He had only come to the house twice and had never come back again. Rori supposed it was because he really didn't care about her and was probably spending all his time with Bethany. She wondered why she hadn't heard any announcement of an engagement between them, but never asked because she truly didn't want to know. It was difficult enough just picturing them together, but to think of them married would destroy her.
Rori decided to concentrate her attentions on Evan, and when he tried to steal a kiss from her when they were unchaperoned for a few minutes, she did not resist. His kiss stirred no great passion in her, though, and she was glad. His embrace was pleasant, and she figured that's the way the rest of her life was going to be . . . pleasant.
Charlotte was not overly enthusiastic about Rori's relationship with Evan Strickland, but she could think of no reason to disapprove when Rori invited him to dine with them. Evan came to the house for dinner on two occasions, and though he was always the perfect gentleman, Charlotte somehow sensed that he was not all that he appeared to be. She could find no particular reason to back up her opinion, she just knew she didn't trust him completely and that he bore watching.
Charlotte kept hoping for an accidental meeting between Aurora and Chance, but it hadn't happened yet, and she was beginning to despair that it ever would. Several times, she'd noticed Aurora sitting alone with Jake, looking rather sad and lonely, but she'd never been able to get her to open up to her and talk about what she was feeling. Charlotte hated to think that Rori was going to let love pass her by, but she was helpless to do anything but watch and wait and hope that Evan didn't come to mean too much to her.
Evan was smiling widely as Bethany opened the door. "I got your message."
"Obviously," Bethany answered bitterly as she led the way into the parlor."
"You said in that note that it was urgent," he complained when she didn't show any sign of being glad to see him.
"It's as urgent as it can be, I guess."
"What is?"
"My situation with Chance."
"What's happened?"
"Nothing, and that's the problem." Bethany's expression was disgusted as she sat down on the loveseat and motioned for him to join her there. "I've seen him all of three times since the night of his homecoming, and each time he's been as cool as he could be to me. I had thought it was a stroke of luck when the Prescotts claimed Aurora, but it doesn't seem to have helped matters much. He still hasn't started to return my affections again. We have to find some way to get Aurora completely out of the picture. Then when she's gone, he'll be all mine."
"As in . . .?" For a moment, Evan feared that Bethany wanted to see the other woman dead.
"As in married to somebody else," she finished.
He breathed an audible sigh of relief, and Bethany smiled coldly at him as she gave a soft, conniving laugh.
"You thought I wanted her dead?"
"It crossed my mind."
"It crossed mine, too, but the other way's better."
"I agree completely, and if she'd have me, I'd marry her tomorrow."
"You've certainly changed your tune, since you found out she was the Prescott heiress."
"I liked her when she was poor, so to speak. I love her now that she's rich," he answered calculatingly.
"So propose to her," Bethany urged.
"Not yet."
"What do you mean 'not yet'?"
"She hasn't warmed to me enough."
"You mean you haven't kissed her yet."
"Of course I've kissed her, but the passion's missing."
"For all that money, passion can be bought, Evan. Think of something. I've never known you to be without a plan when it comes to getting what you want."
"That's true enough, and I did have one idea when I first heard that she'd come into quite a fortune."
"Tell me about it. I'm willing to try anything if it will mean getting Chance back.
I have to have him, Evan. I have to!"
Evan's eyes were glowing with greed as he related his plan to Bethany.
Chapter Thirty-four
Nilakla rubbed her back wearily, trying to ease the nagging ache that had been plaguing her all day. She couldn't afford to have anything wrong with her now, for there was still too much to do. The house on the newly named Lazy B Ranch was an old, three-room adobe structure, and they had been working feverishly on it to make it livable for better than a week now.
Nilakla looked around herself and smiled bittersweetly. Douglas kept saying that this was their home, that this was where they'd raise their children. She wanted to believe him, but she knew the truth. She had heard it herself, and she knew the truth would not be denied. As soon as the baby was born, he was going to leave her and go back to Boston.
She gave a weary sigh as she rested one hand on her rounded belly. There was so little time left. Just a few short months, and it would be over. She'd deliberately refused to think about the future lately, but now, for some reason, the feeling of impending loss was threatening to overwhelm her again. Nilakla had tried to dismiss it, telling herself that she was just tired, but it had continued to haunt her day and night.
Suddenly, as Nilakla was standing there, a vicious, breath-stealing pain unexpectedly stabbed through her midsection, and she doubled over, gasping for breath. Another one followed shortly after, and she collapsed heavily to the floor, her arms wrapped around herself. In denial, she began to cry. It couldn't be the baby . . . it just couldn't be. It was too early . . .
Lone Hawk had been greatly concerned about his daughter's health. When she'd refused to stay in the village until after the birth of her child, he'd sent Wild Dove, a short, heavyset, widow woman, along with them to help her through her time of childbirth. Wild Dove was returning to the house now, carrying the bucket of water she'd gone to fetch for Nilakla. As she stepped into the cool interior, a shriek of horror escaped her to see Nilakla curled up on the floor in agony.
"Nilakla!"
"Help me, Wild Dove. I think it's the baby," Nilakla gasped, crying from a combination of fear and pain.