Savage Land

by Janet Dailey

  It was a very serious-faced Danny who helped Coley down from the horse. His anxious eyes examined her stained dress and uncombed hair for any tell-tale signs of trouble that he should know about.

  'Are you all right, Coley?’ When she nodded affirmatively, he added, ‘Are you sure?'

  'I'm fine,’ she assured him.

  'I tried to get back last night, but the water was too high. I nearly went crazy thinking about you out there in the storm all night. I should have taken you with me somehow,’ he remonstrated himself.

  'I was all right. There's a cabin on the other side of the rise and I—we spent the night there,’ Coley replied, her face reddening slightly with her words. She glanced self-consciously over to where Jase stood talking with the other man.

  'Mr. Simpson told me about it, but I couldn't help thinking that you might not find it,’ Danny answered following her gaze to the man she had ridden in with. His eyes narrowed on to her face. ‘He treated you all right, didn't he?'

  'Yes, I was frightened at first, that's all,’ she replied, avoiding Danny's searching eyes for fear they would find the pinpricks of doubt that were troubling her. ‘He works at the ranch for Aunt Wilhelmina's brother-in-law. She doesn't own the ranch, Danny!'

  'I know.’ His words carried a grim tone that did little to boost Coley's confidence. ‘I got our clothes and all out of the car. It got swept downstream by the water last night.'

  'Will it still run?'

  'Not till I can get it pulled out and check it. Even then...’ His voice trailed off expressively. He looked at his sister's face, reading the anxiety written there. If Aunt Wilhelmina couldn't or wouldn't take them in, they had no money and now no transportation to take them away. ‘Don't worry, Coley, everything will be all right, I promise you.'

  'But, Danny, what if...'

  'If you two youngsters are ready to go, we'll leave now,’ the man who had been talking with Jase interrupted.

  'Of course, Mr. Simpson,’ Danny answered, leading Coley to the car where the two men were standing.

  Two hard blue eyes studied her brother thoroughly as Danny made the introduction of his sister to the rancher. But other than the sharpness of the gaze, the expression was bland when Danny turned to Jase. Danny's eyes too were drawn to the scar shining out from the beard growth before being drawn to the piercing eyes, but this time there was no reaction from Jase, the mask securely on his face.

  'I want to thank you, sir, for taking care of my sister,’ Danny said, extending his hand.

  Jase accepted it and merely nodded his acknowledgement, before gathering the reins and mounting his horse. His face was now hidden in the shadows of his hat brim as he lifted his hand in an indifferent good-bye and trotted his horse away from the group. Coley stared after him.

  'Ahh,’ Simpson sounded as though he was trying to rid his mouth of a bad taste. ‘He's a cold one.’ Danny glanced at the rancher suspiciously, seeking an explanation for the remark, but receiving only, ‘Come on. Let's go.'

  Silently, brother and sister slid into the front seat with him. The closing of the door seemed to echo the dosing of the last door of escape for the two. From here on they were committed to whatever lay ahead.

  The morning sun peered through the dotted swiss curtains at the curled, sleeping figure half out and half under the chenille bedspread. Outside birds were trilling to the morning breeze, their muffled calls reaching the tousled figure of Coley as her eyelids lifted slowly from their heavy burden of sleep. She blinked bewilderedly at her unfamiliar surroundings. Then yesterday's memory drifted back. She pulled herself into a sitting position, then bent her legs so that her slender arms could hug her knees. All the despair from yesterday came echoing back as her sad eyes gazed forlornly at the rose-flowered wallpaper.

  All her misgivings had loomed larger during that silent ride to the Slash S ranch house. Had it been Danny's moodiness or the skeleton-faced Simpson's ominous silence that first made Coley aware that some of her fears might come true? She knew that Danny had found out something that had shaken his confidence when all her arguments had failed. If only that stranger would have told her more!

  When they had come to a stop in front of the large two-storey wood-frame house, gleaming whitely through the leaves of the large oak trees, Coley's heart involuntarily leaped with joy at the serene picture. But that was before Mr. Simpson spoke.

  'Sorry, boy,’ he had said, ‘looks like the old man is sittin’ on the porch. Much as I hate to, I'd better go up with you.’

  Coley had started to ask Danny what Mr. Simpson was talking about, but he had already opened the door and stepped out of the car. Barely able to stern the rising panic, Coley followed him, brushing vainly at the stained spots on her dress and trying to force the wayward strands of her brown hair into some semblance of order.

  Coley leaned forward and chewed on a fingernail without relaxing her hold around her legs as she remembered meeting the man that Simpson had referred to as the ‘old man'. The wheelchair he was sitting in had drawn her attention first, but when Mr. Simpson had introduced him as Ben Savage, Coley had looked at the man. He was an eagle; age had made him a grey eagle, but an eagle all the same. His keen grey-blue eyes had inspected them thoroughly from beneath the bushy eyebrows. His head was covered with an abundance of white hair streaked with grey. Only the sallow colour of his skin and the way it hung so loosely on his face and neck betrayed the state of his health.

  Mr. Simpson had explained to him that Danny and Coley were Wilhelmina's nephew and niece and had come for a visit. He had told him about their car and implied that both had spent the night at his ranch. Coley had been too awed by her prospective host to correct Mr. Simpson. Ben Savage had watched them carefully while the rancher was talking, taking in the mud stains on Coley's dress and their general appearance of something less than prosperity. He had said not one word of greeting to them. His words echoed back in their hopelessness to Coley.

  'I had hoped I'd seen the last of sponging relatives,’ he had said, smiling slightly maliciously when Danny bristled. ‘But since I haven't, she's out back in her rose garden.’ The directness of his gaze had silenced any remark from Danny. ‘I'll be talking to you two tomorrow.’ Then he had turned his wheelchair and left them with his unvoiced threat hanging over them like Damocles’ sword.

  A silvery white head peeped around Coley's bedroom door.

  'Are you awake now, dear? You looked so exhausted last night that I said to myself, “Now you let that dear child sleep as late as she wants in the morning."'

  'Oh, Aunt Willy, is it very late?’ Coley asked with a note of alarm as she hopped out of bed. ‘I don't want Uncle Ben to think that I sleep late all the time.'

  Coley and Danny had been given very positive instructions by Aunt Willy that even though there was no blood relation they were to refer to Mr. Savage as Uncle Ben. Coley couldn't think of anyone less like an uncle.

  'Oh, fiddle what Ben thinks,’ Wilhelmina stated as she set a stack of clothes down on Coley's dresser. Coley marvelled again at the tall woman's erect posture. ‘Maggie washed up some of your clothes.’ She opened and closed drawers with little wasted motion. ‘Colleen, I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, dear, but that terrible river water just about ruined everything. Just look at this skirt—or worse, this blouse!’ With a horrified expression she held up a faded navy skirt and a very worn white blouse before placing them in drawers. ‘We'll just have to go on a shopping expedition,’ she went on cheerfully. ‘I haven't been on one in ages.'

  Coley walked over to the mirror, picked up a brush and began pulling it through her hair. She was too embarrassed to correct her aunt about the state of her clothes. Wilhelmina Granger walked over to stand behind Coley, her taller frame enabling her to see over Coley's head into the mirror. She took the brush from Coley, her bracelets jingling, and began expertly brushing here and fluffing there.

  'Your hair needs a good styling, too,’ she remarked to Coley's red-faced reflection in the mirro
r. ‘Now, don't you go getting all upset about it. If your dear mother, Rosalie, were here you know she would have seen that your hair was properly cut.'

  Coley nodded silently, hanging her head so that her aunt couldn't see the moistening eyes. How could she tell her that she'd never had her hair done by a professional?

  'Colleen, listen to me, dear,’ Wilhelmina Granger turned the girl towards her and lifted her chin gently with the tip of a red-varnished fingernail. Coley looked up at the generous red mouth, the rouged cheeks, the bright, jewelled glasses that winged over her aunt's blue eyes. ‘I know sometimes I'm a silly old lady who's a little absent-minded at times. The Good Lord didn't see fit to give George and me any children, but now he's given me you and Daniel. Forgive me if I get too interfering or sentimental, because, you see, you mean very much to me.'

  'Oh, Aunt Willy!’ Coley smiled gratefully through her tears.

  'Well,’ Aunt Wilhelmina inelegantly sniffed back her tears. ‘We'd better stop this or we'll both be crying. You'd better hurry up and get dressed. Maggie's got breakfast ready downstairs. Hurry up, now.'

  She smiled as she pushed Coley towards the bed before walking out the door in tune with the jangling of her bracelets. Coley clasped her arms about her excitedly. It was a glorious feeling to be wanted, absolutely glorious! Hurriedly she slipped off her night clothes and began dressing.

  Coley trailed her hand down the banister of the open staircase. Her eyes roved contentedly through the hallway below her as she slowly made her way down the steps. Her sandalled foot was on the last step when one of the doors in the hall opened and a slender, dark-haired man emerged.

  'And you tell Jase I want a full accounting of his absence,’ came the gravelly voice of Ben Savage from inside the room. ‘It's about time he learned that nobody disappears from this ranch for three days without me knowing about it and knowing where they are and what they're doing.'

  'Yes, sir,’ the man replied with a deferential nod of his head before closing the door. But his expression when he turned towards Coley was anything but respectful.

  Coley noted the thin face, the sleek black hair, the black, snapping eyes, the fine winged brows and the thin lips with their almost insolent curl. When he saw Coley, his mouth immediately changed its expression to a charming smile, although she saw his eyes narrow before becoming a part of the widening smile.

  'Well, good morning. You must be Colleen.’ He extended his arm, an even golden brown colour from the rolled-up short sleeve down to his long fingers. ‘Aunt Willy told me all about you.'

  Coley shyly accepted his hand, slightly intimidated by his effervescent air. ‘How do you do.'

  'I can tell she forgot to tell you about me. That's just like her,’ he grinned to show a flashy expanse of white teeth. ‘I'm Tony Gordon, the old man's nephew.'

  Coley glanced apprehensively at the closed door.

  'He's rather in good form today.’ Tony grimaced playfully as he followed her glance. ‘Where were you going, the dining room?'

  She nodded.

  'I'll escort you there. I won't be able to stay, though I imagine Aunt Willy will be there. I've got to go find Jase and then I'm supposed to meet your brother and show him around,’ he stated cheerfully, taking her elbow and guiding her down the hallway.

  'Has my brother talked with Mr. Savage this morning?'

  'He was going out as I was coming in.'

  'I hope Danny didn't say anything to upset him,’ she murmured.

  'Knowing Uncle Ben, I doubt if he got the chance,’ Tony laughed. He turned his young face with its merry glint in his dark eyes towards her. ‘I suppose your turn is coming yet.'

  'I'm supposed to go in to talk to him this morning,’ Coley replied. Some of her earlier good spirits deserted her as they reached the sun-filled dining room.

  'And the condemned ate a hearty breakfast,’ Tony teased, pulling out a chair for Coley at the table.

  'Tony, stop that,’ reprimanded the silver-haired woman already seated.

  'I was only joking, Auntie dear.’ But his joke had stolen Coley's appetite.

  'You pay no attention to him, Colleen.’ Aunt Wilhelmina began passing dishes to Coley with her nervous, busy hands. ‘You run along, Anthony. Daniel is waiting for you outside.'

  Tony waved a cheerful good-bye to Coley, who could barely manage a smile in return. She nibbled half-heartedly at her toast and pushed her scrambled eggs around on the yellow flowered china plate while her aunt chattered in her blithe, ebullient way.

  'Colleen dear, you've hardly eaten a thing.’ Her aunt's red lips were pursed poutily. ‘We'll never cover those bones sticking out through that blouse.'

  'I'm sorry, but I'm just not very hungry,’ Coley replied apologetically. ‘I've always been skinny anyway. I never have been able to gain weight.'

  'You'll be grateful for that one day.’ The older woman sipped her coffee with her little finger raising unconsciously. ‘And you mustn't be upset by your slenderness. I'm sure you realize that there are many fashion models who would love to have your natural figure.'

  'But they have faces to go with them,’ Coley said, forcing a lightness into her voice to hide the inner hurt.

  'You aren't unattractive, Colleen,’ Aunt Willy stated briskly. ‘A little plain, perhaps, but that can he changed. Now, if you really are done with your breakfast, Benjamin wanted to see you privately in his study.’ Aunt Wilhelmina rose from the table, smoothing her skirt with her hands. The rings on her fingers flashed brilliantly in the sunshine. ‘And don't you let Anthony's teasing upset you.'

  'No, Aunt Willy.’ Coley stood resolutely.

  If only she could forget Tony's teasing. If only she didn't feel as if she was going to an inquisition with herself as the victim. Her long legs moved her slowly down the hall to the study. Why did she have to be so afraid of everybody and everything? Danny had always been there to get her out of tough spots, but this time he wasn't there and she was on her own. She just couldn't go into that room knowing how that old man in the wheelchair would mock her. That was it. He was in a wheelchair; he was a sick man like her mother had been. Many times during the years that Coley had nursed her mother, the distress had become more than her mother could bear and she had been irritable and snappy. Uncle Ben must have the same problem. And her mother hadn't liked Coley to change things, clinging steadfastly to the familiar. That would explain why Uncle Ben resented her and Danny being there, disrupting his household. She had never been frightened of her mother, so why should she be frightened of Ben?

  A bright light now gleamed in her eyes as she rapped lightly on the study door.

  'Come in, come in,’ was the gruff reply.

  Coley stepped into the oppressive study. The maroon drapes were closed, shutting out the morning light while the dark panelled wails added to the gloom. She glanced at the grey-haired man behind the desk. He didn't look very sick.

  'Would you like me to turn on a light?’ Coley asked timidly.

  'What's the matter? Can't you see?’ he growled.

  'It is a little dark in here.'

  'It's foolish to have the electricity on during the day. A waste of money! The sun's plenty of light,’ his tone reproached her sharply.

  Coley glanced over at the closed curtains, wondering if she should say anything more. ‘Perhaps I could open the curtains?’ she suggested hesitantly.

  'Persistent little snip, aren't you?’ Coley swallowed nervously waiting for him to speak again, not trusting her voice not to tremble. ‘Think it'll improve my sunny disposition, do you?’ His eyes squinted threateningly at her, a glint of humour lurking at the corners. ‘Very well, open them, if it pleases you.'

  Gratefully Coley walked over to the window and pulled the cord to the maroon curtains, allowing the sunlight to tumble in.

  'Satisfied?’ he snorted. He waved a bony hand towards the chair in front of his desk. ‘Come over here and sit down, now that I can see you.'

  Coley did as she was directed and managed t
o sit quietly under his disconcerting stare. She rather liked his sarcastic humour. It made him a little more human and gave her a little more courage.

  'There's not much to you,’ he said disparagingly. ‘Can't you do anything with that hair of yours? It looks like you forgot to brush it.'

  His blue-grey eyes saw her look at his own bushy hair. ‘I don't like backtalk, so you might remember that,’ he said severely. ‘Now, let's get down to business. There's no such thing as a freeloader on this ranch. Everybody pulls his weight or leaves.’ He paused to allow his words to sink in. ‘What are you good for?'

  'I can cook and clean,’ Coley answered, ‘and I took typing in school, but I'm not very good.'

  'We got a housekeeper and the house isn't big enough for two. Don't need any typing done. What else?'

  'I nursed my mother for several years.'

  'I don't need any nursemaid!’ he bellowed, raising himself in the wheelchair.

  'No, I didn't mean ... I mean...’ Coley stammered. She leaned forward, her smooth forehead drawn together in an anxious frown.

  'Get out of here! Go on!’ Ben shouted, running a gnarled hand through his grizzled hair.

  'I'm sorry.’ Coley's round eyes began to mist with tears. ‘I just don't know how to do many things.'

  'I'll find something for you to do,’ he growled. ‘Now, get out of here. I've heard enough of your prattle. Your aunt will be wanting you anyway.'

  Coley rose numbly from the chair. Through the shimmer of tears, she saw Ben's hand plucking nervously at the chair handle. She ruined everything. She should have known how sensitive the poor old man would be about his incapacity. Why couldn't she have been more tactful? Twice now since coming here, she had referred to two people's afflictions, first Jason's and now Uncle Ben's. When would she learn to keep her big mouth shut?

  When she reached the study door, Coley turned back towards her uncle seeking the words to undo the damage. The forlorn picture of the invalid staring blankly out of the sun-filled window hushed her words, and she silently dosed the door behind her.