Forever, Victoria Page 7

  “I’m not a backin’ his hand if that’s what you mean.”

  “You ain’t ort to be out of bed, Sage. Times when I think you ain’t got no brains at all,” Ruby scolded. The man flicked a glance at her and then back to Mason.

  Mason shifted his glance to the other man at the end of the table and acknowledged the negative shake of his head.

  Ike was shaking his head and getting to his feet. Stonewall moved over in front of him. “Ya asked fer it callin’ the man a liar, Ike. I’ve seen killin’s fer less. He ain’t no lawman. Least ways he ain’t here as no lawman.”

  “Then what’s he here as?” Ike rasped, his hand going to his throat.

  “Yeah. What’s he here fer?” Kelso, the florid-faced man, spoke up.

  Stonewall hesitated and Mason spoke. “It’s none of your business why I’m here, but I’ll tell you so my position will be clear. I’ve bought an interest in this ranch. I intend to stay and look after my interest. Things can go on as they have been or there can be some changes. It’s up to you.”

  A blanket of silence covered the room.

  Kelso’s first stunned surprise passed and anger took its place. “Bought…?” His face turned a dull red and his eyes were bleak and bitter. “Miss Victory wouldn’t sell—”

  “Kelso! Damn it!” Stonewall roared. “Yer just a hand here, same as me. What Miss Victory sells or don’t sell ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

  “I’ll handle it, Stonewall.” Mason turned the full force of his attention on Kelso, knowing that Pete and Clay would keep an eye on Ike. “It’s just as well that it’s all come out the way it has, Kelso. I’m backing Stonewall every step of the way, and if I hear of you questioning his orders again you’ll find yourself dusting your tail down the trail. Is that understood?”

  Kelso’s face turned cold with suppressed fury and he thrust his head forward and glared at Mason. “I comed to this here ranch when I was no bigger than that kid thar.” He flung a hand toward Doonie. “I was here afore any of ’em. I knowed Miss Victory when she was no higher ’n that table. She ain’t goin’ ta let ya run me off.” He spread his feet and squared himself, as if ready for all comers.

  “Do your job and you stay. Stonewall is the foreman. He ramrods this outfit without any sass from you. I’ll ride roughshod over any man who bucks him. You better come to feed, Kelso. There’s no room here for troublemakers.” Mason spoke to Kelso, but his eyes roamed the room and his message was read by all of them. “Now get on with your work or pack your gear and ride out.”

  Kelso stood his ground for a moment, then turned to go. At the door he paused to say something he’d said before.

  “Miss Victory ain’t goin’ ta let ya run me off.”

  When the room was cleared of all except the Mahaffey men, Sage, and Stonewall, Ruby let loose with a short, gusty laugh. “Hit was almost worth havin’ ya here to see the look on Kelso’s face.” Her round face glistened with sweat and her bright eyes twinkled at Mason. “Kelso’s had this here idee for a long while that he was a gonna court—”

  “Honeybunch. Yore mouth is a running away with ya agin,” Stonewall said, gently but firmly.

  “Hit ain’t no secret, hon. Everybody knows Kelso thought he’d marry up with Victory. He thought—”

  “Marry up with Miss Victoria?” This came from the astonished Pete. “Why he ain’t fit to touch her hand!” Mason looked at his brother sharply. Anger and resentment were written on Pete’s face. A prickle of uneasiness went up Mason’s spine. Pete was on the verge of falling in love with Victoria. He couldn’t let that happen. Victoria would never take the boy seriously and Pete was laying himself out for a terrible hurt.

  “I figured I might haf’ ta kill that critter sometime.” Sage had sunk back down on a chair. He held one arm close to his chest and drew his coffee cup toward him with the other. His expression was unreadable.

  My God! Mason thought. Is every man on this ranch in love with Victoria McKenna?

  “My brothers and I are ready to work,” he said to Stonewall. “That is if Doonie has finished his breakfast.”

  “Now you just let that youngun eat all he wants.” Ruby twisted her chubby form around the end of the table. “He needs ta fatten up. What’s yore name, kid? Doonie? Gawd! I ain’t never heard a that afore. Well, Doonie, how’d ya like to have some molasses to go with them biscuits?”

  “I’d like it fine.” Doonie looked up at Mason, then added, “Ma’am.”

  “You men go on and do what ya was goin’ to do. Me ’n’ Doonie and Sage’ll sit here and chew the fat. What a ya doin’, Gopher? Put on some water afore ya go and I’ll wash up all this here mess.”

  The Mahaffey men followed Stonewall to the corral to find out about the mustangs that were to be broken, but Mason’s mind was on other things. It was just beginning to get light and he noticed the flicker of a lamp in the kitchen window. Abruptly he left his brothers and Stonewall and went toward the house.

  * * *

  The night had been long. Victoria stood at the kitchen window and watched the faint light of a new day appear in the East and heard the first boastful crow of the boss rooster echo down the basin and against the high mesa wall to the north. She had tried to rest her mind as well as her body, but her roiling thoughts had forced her to leave her bed. Even now she tried to shove her thoughts to the back of her mind, but over and over again they rolled, like the turning of a wheel in her brain: How could she stand having strangers taking over her house? How was she going to manage to remain calm and think clearly with all these people pressing in on her?

  She went to the stove and moved the gently boiling coffeepot to a cooler part of the range. Today she would work in the vegetable garden. But did she dare leave the house prey to Dora’s destructive hands? She sighed in exasperation. But she had to get out of the house where she could be alone and sort things out. She was mortified that she had allowed Mason to hold her last night, even more distressed that she had liked being in his arms.

  Victoria scowled at the clock on the mantel. For goodness’ sake! For the first time in years she had forgotten to wind the spring, and the pendulum hung lifeless and still. The eyes in the painted face seemed to rebuke her for her neglect. Carefully she opened the glass-fronted case and inserted the key. Six turns would keep it running until night and she would make sure to wind it again at the usual time tonight, no matter what. But now she didn’t know what time it was. Damn!

  “It’s half past five.”

  The voice came from the doorway and she turned quickly to see Mason standing there returning a flat, gold watch to his pocket. Oh, damn! Oh, damn! she thought. Why are my knees so weak? She leaned against the mantel for support, her brain whirling. She wished she could snap out something calm and curt, but her voice had left her. She turned and moved the hour hand straight up and waited for the hour to strike, then down for the single bell, signaling the half hour. The peal of the clock was loud in the silent room. She felt Mason’s gaze and looked up at him uneasily.

  “The boys and I had breakfast down at the bunkhouse. Doonie is still there. Ruby is trying to fill him up on biscuits and molasses.”

  “What reason did you give for being here?”

  “I didn’t intend to give any, but it was forced on me.”

  “What do you mean? Was there trouble?”

  “No trouble. A man named Kelso takes a lot on himself. Seems he’s given to questioning Stonewall’s orders. I let him know I had an interest in this place and I stood behind the foreman.”

  “And that’s all?” Victoria lifted the cloth that covered the table.

  “That’s all.”

  Another silence fell while Mason poured coffee in the mug beside the place where he had eaten the evening meal. He filled Victoria’s cup without asking if she wanted coffee. He sat down and surreptitiously stole a glance at her. The pink dress she wore this morning was faded from many washings, but it added color to her cheeks and emphasized her breasts. She looked p
retty in pink, even prettier than she had looked yesterday in blue.

  Something tightened in Mason’s chest. He wanted to unbraid that heavy coil of hair and watch it slide through his hands. He could still feel the softness of her in his arms and the silkiness of her hair against his mouth. He studied her face, unable to pull his eyes from her delicate features, their fragility emphasized by those huge amber eyes. There were dark shadings beneath them this morning telling of a sleepless night, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose that he hadn’t noticed before.

  She sat down at the table and said with determination, “I’m going back to town tomorrow and talk to my lawyer. This thing has to be settled before winter sets in.” Her voice pulled Mason roughly out of his dreams.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Victoria drew in a quick breath. “You mean you’ll go and not come back?”

  “No, Victoria. I said I’d go. My brothers and my sisters will stay here.” He spoke gently, but firmly. He watched her fingers clench tightly about the cup. The long shadows cast on her cheek by her eyelashes gave her face a vulnerable look. A great tenderness welled in him at the sight of her suffering. A desire not to let anything hurt her, to protect her from pain and unhappiness, surged through. him, and yet the strong feeling of family responsibility, and the determination to make a home for his brothers and sisters was there also. The conflicting emotions struggled within him, and he felt as if he were being torn apart. He had slept fitfully, if at all, and his nerves and muscles were wound up tight.

  “Damn you! Then I’ll go by myself!” Her bitter gaze locked with his while her mouth tightened with anger.

  “Victoria, I can’t give you what you want.” His face was grave and his eyes held a tenderness she didn’t expect. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his.

  Angry at her helplessness, she jerked her hand away. “You could, but you’ve seen what Papa built here. Whatever you paid Robert—it wasn’t nearly what this place is worth, was it?” she said accusingly. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I should’ve gone straight to Mr. Schoeller while I was in town!”

  “Why didn’t you?” he asked grimly and got to his feet.

  She refused to look at him. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

  “Face it, Victoria. We’re here to stay.” He paused. “I’ve been trying to think of a solution and have come up with two alternatives. You can marry me and live here in this house with me, or you can move down the valley and homestead.” He paused. “Admit that you found it pleasant to be in my arms last night. We could build a good life together, golden girl.”

  Victoria was stunned momentarily, then jumped to her feet. “Homestead on my own range?” she gasped. “Marry you so I can stay in the house my Papa built?” Her voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch. “Get out! Get out!” She stood with her hand clenched into a fist and fought for control, and although her eyes were swimming with tears, her mouth was taut and there was an air of unconscious dignity about her poised head. “You’re a—a bastard, Mr. Mahaffey.” The words came out quietly.

  “I’ve been called worse, Miss McKenna,” he said and walked past her.

  For a while after he left her Victoria felt sure it was impossible to exist any longer, that she must surely splinter into thousands of pieces. She walked over to the clock on the mantel and watched the pendulum swing as it had done for as long as she could remember, and gradually she began to calm down.

  I can do it, I can put up with them for a while, she whispered to herself and knew that she could. She had to, or else leave all she had ever known. And that she knew she could not bear at all.

  “Victoria…?”

  Victoria whirled around, ashamed she had been caught with her guard down. Hostility was etched in every line in her face as she glared at Nellie. The girl who stood timidly in the doorway looked as if she would break if someone handled her roughly. A timid smile curved her lips and her large, expressive eyes seemed to beg for kindness. The spark of resentment went out of Victoria as she looked at the thin, lovely face.

  “Don’t look at me as if I was going to strike you,” she snapped.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “And you don’t have to be sorry either!” she said crossly. “Oh, I’m sorry, Nellie. I don’t mean to snap at you. I think we could have become friends under other…circumstances.”

  “Did I hear Mason in here?”

  “Yes, but he’s gone.” Victoria went to the stove and poked in a few sticks of kindling. She could think more clearly when her hands were busy. “Your brothers had breakfast at the cookshack. I’ll make mush for you and me and Dora.” She turned and Nellie was standing beside her. Victoria hadn’t realized how small the girl was and suddenly felt big and gauche beside her.

  “Is there something I can do?”

  “No. I’m used to working alone. Do you feel better this morning?”

  “Much better, thank you. Oh, Victoria, you can’t know how wonderful it is to be with my brothers and Dora. I thought I would die in that attic and never see them again.” Her voice began to quaver and she moved away to sit down at the table.

  Victoria couldn’t think of a thing to say in response to that so she said, “Is Dora getting dressed?”

  “She’s still sleeping. Mason gave her a good dressing down last night. She cried until she wore herself out. She didn’t mean to break the dish. She wanted to show it to me because she thought it was so pretty. But after she broke it she couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry.”

  “I’d like to say that it was all right, that it didn’t matter, but it did. It mattered a great deal to me. My mother’s parents brought the dish when they came west and I treasured it.” Victoria poured coffee for herself and for Nellie and sat down to wait for the water to boil so she could make the mush.

  “I’ll watch Dora. I promise I’ll watch her, Victoria.”

  Victoria marveled that she could feel so close to Nellie, that she could like her knowing that she had come here to take over her house.

  “You know, Nellie, sometimes I think I’m losing my mind. Why should I get so upset over the breaking of a dish when I’m in danger of losing my whole ranch?” It seemed incredible to Victoria that she could be sitting here saying these things.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Nellie looked as if she would cry. “It’s like a dream come true to us. Mason came to take us to a new home where we would live together as a family again. He said we would have to work hard and build the place up. He never expected it to be like this, Victoria. He didn’t expect to find anyone like you here.”

  “Well, I’m here,” Victoria said tiredly. She got up and began to sprinkle the finely ground meal into the boiling water. There had to be a solution—other than the ones Mason had proposed. Her skin began to prickle at the thought of his suggestion that she marry him. Did he actually think she would consider such an arrangement? It would be an easy out for him! Married to her he would be assured of the ranch. Mr. Mason Mahaffey wasn’t as sure of his rights to the Double M as he wanted her to believe, she decided with satisfaction.

  The thought came to her again later in the morning when she went to the small room her father had used for an office. She stood hesitantly in the doorway for an instant before she entered the room. The smell of cigarette smoke, the clothes hung on the pegs, the extra pair of boots beside the narrow bed where her father had slept after her mother died, all combined to put Mason Mahaffey’s stamp on the room and to confirm her belief that he firmly intended to stay at the Double M one way or the other.

  The ledger books were on the desk, and the low supply of oil in the glass basin of the lamp told her he had spent part of the night studying them. Instead of feeling irritated that he had snooped, she felt a spurt of pride. At least he knew she wasn’t an empty-headed woman. She had kept the books for several years before her father died and knew they were neat and in as good a shape as any set of ranch books anywhere. And they were hers. On i
mpulse she picked them up, took them to her room and locked them in her trunk.