Clay (24 page)

“I can’t imagine what the place will be like without you.” Clay slumped down and buried his head in his hands. “This is a double blow—losing a wife and a brother at the same time.”

“You aren’t losing a brother. And as for your wife, Becky is the kind of woman a man dreams about his whole life. Why would you ever consider giving her up?”

“You’ve got that wrong, Garth. She wants to give
me
up.”

Garth chuckled. “You gonna let a Yankee win this battle?” He folded up his map and put it in his pocket, then shoved back his chair and stood up. “I’ll wait for you in the dining room.”

Garth paused on the way out and slapped Clay on the shoulder. “Swallow your pride, Brother Clay. Don’t let her get away from you. Why don’t you come right out and tell her that you love her?”

Clay was taken aback. “Who said I love her? She’s my wife; she’s my responsibility, I have an obligation to—”

Garth cut him off. “Brother Clay, face the facts: you know damn well you love her.”

Clay grinned widely. “You can tell I’ve really got a problem, if I have to take my younger brother’s advice.”

“Who happens to know a damn sight more about women than you do. You forgetting about Ellie?”

“Ellie who?” Clay said, grinning, and gave his brother a light kick in the butt as Garth left the room.

Why was he trying to fool himself? There
was
a good reason why he wanted them to stay together. He had done the unimaginable: He’d fallen in love with his wife.

Rebecca had opened her eyes in time to see Clay leaving. Sneaking away, more like it. It was just as well; what do you say after a night of making love to your husband when you know he intends to leave you the next day? When she had promised to give him his freedom, she hadn’t planned on falling in love with him.

And making love made it even harder to say goodbye to him. Now she couldn’t even look at him without remembering the thrill of his kiss, his touch, the feel of his arms around her. Worse, she’d miss his grin, the warmth of his chuckle, and the sound of his voice.

If only she could sneak away without having to face him again… but that was impossible. They had to meet with a lawyer to terminate their marriage.

What if she suggested they try to make a go of their marriage? He would probably laugh at her. She had dug this hole for herself, now she had to live with it.

As if he could read her mind, Clay rapped on the door and called out, “Becky, are you awake?”

She appreciated his courtesy in knocking before entering her room. But that was Clay; a gentleman to the end.

She rose from the bed and pulled on her robe. Now he was free to return to Virginia. That’s what he’d wanted from the beginning. And then she could begin to put her life in order—but Lord, it would hurt.

“Yes, come in, Clay.”

Clay opened the door. “Good morning.”

He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable about last night. Maybe she had just dreamed the whole incident. She might try to convince herself of that if he hadn’t just stepped on her nightgown where it lay on the floor.

“How about breakfast?” he asked. “Garth’s waiting for us downstairs. He’s leaving today, and wants to say goodbye to you before he goes.”

She felt a sadness that he’d no longer be around with his cheerfulness. At least he’d be remaining in California; maybe their paths would cross again.

“You go ahead. I’m not dressed yet,” she said, picking up the nightgown.

“I can wait.”

She began to collect her toilet articles. “That’s not necessary. Order me whatever you’re having. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Rebecca gave herself a hurried sponge bath and returned to her room, where she dressed quickly, groomed her hair, and pinned on her hat.

Clay and Garth were at a corner table in the dining room. Both men rose to their feet when she approached. That Southern chivalry hadn’t been exaggerated; she couldn’t think of a time when Charley got to his feet to help seat her.

But making comparisons between the two men wasn’t fair to either one. They were raised in different worlds—and so were she and Clay.
Face it, Rebecca, you could never fit into his world.

The waiter immediately brought her a large glass of orange juice that Clay had ordered for her.

“Thank you,” she said. “I love oranges.”

“I’ve noticed,” Clay said.

“If I were rich, I’d plant myself an orange grove so I could just pick one off a tree whenever I wanted to.”

Garth chuckled. “Some women would have dreams of fancy gowns, others expensive jewels. There’s no accounting for the female mind.”

“Is that right, Garth Fraser? And what do you men dream about?”

Garth’s grin was endearing. “A woman who prefers oranges to diamonds and pearls.” He winked at Clay. “You’ve struck gold here, Brother Clay. I’d hang on to her if I were you.”

Garth was about as subtle as a sledgehammer, and sat there looking pleased with himself.

Try as he might, Clay couldn’t keep his eyes off Rebecca. He would not accept that this would be their last day together. As soon as they were alone, he would try to convince her that they should make the marriage work.

Hadn’t her life been tough enough without adding the stigma of being divorced? Society accepted a divorced man with some qualms, but practically hung a scarlet letter around the woman’s neck.

After breakfast, they went through the painful parting with Garth. Clay wished his brother well, and told him to be sure to keep in touch so the family would know where he was.

It was impossible for Becky to avoid tears when he kissed her good-bye and she watched another dear friend ride away.

Then Clay insisted upon accompanying her to her brother’s house.

A young woman opened the door when she rang the bell. “May I help you?” she asked with a pleasant smile.

“Is this the residence of Matthew Brody?”

“Yes, it is. I’m Mrs. Brody.”

Matt was married? Though why shouldn’t he be? After all, she was on her second husband.

The woman was very lovely, with long-lashed brown eyes that were regarding her with friendly curiosity at the moment.

“How do you do,” Rebecca said. “I’m Matt’s sister. And this is my husband, Clayton Fraser.”

“You’re Becky!” She stepped aside. “Please come in.”

Once inside, the woman hugged and kissed her. “I’m Virginia. Matt speaks of you often, and he’ll be so glad to see you. Sit down while I get him. He’s right outside, in the backyard.”

Rebecca sank down in an upholstered chair, eager to see her brother after almost seven years.

“Becky!” Matt came rushing into the room. She jumped up and they hugged and kissed, then he stepped back and looked at her. “I can’t believe it’s really you, after all these years. You look wonderful.”

“Oh, Matt, it’s so good to see you.” Her eyes misted with unshed tears. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him until she saw that boyish grin of his again.

He reached for his wife’s hand. “And this is Ginny, my wife. She tells me you’re married.”

“Clay Fraser,” Clay said offering his hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Clay. So tell us, when did you get here?
How
did you get here? And why didn’t you write and let us know you were coming?”

Same old Matt, she thought affectionately. He hadn’t changed a bit. “Hey, slow up. One question at a time,” she said.

“Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” Ginny suggested. “There’s coffee on the stove, and we can have a cup while the two of you get caught up.”

“And there’s a lot of catching up to do,” Rebecca said.

“Becky, you should have let me know you were coming. What if I’d moved out of Sacramento?” Matt asked.

“I did. Didn’t you get my letter? I wrote it about six months ago.”

“No, I’ve never received it.”

Rebecca described to them the hazards of the trip, her kidnapping by Eagle Claw, and her ultimate arrival in California. “Now, tell me all about yourselves. How did you meet? How long have you been married? I want to hear all about it.”

They found out that Ginny was the daughter of one of the prospectors Matt had met while he was panning for gold; they’d fallen in love and gotten married.

How simple and uncomplicated, Rebecca thought. Why couldn’t she and Clay have done the same?

“Are you still prospecting, Matt?” Clay asked.

“No, I gave that up when Ginny and I married. I’m an agent now for Leland Stanford. He’s president of the Central Pacific Railroad out here.”

“What do you mean by agent?” Rebecca asked.

“Mr. Stanford owns a lot of land and property in this area. I sell it for him. With this population influx, due to the war, it has been a very profitable venture for me.” He grinned at Ginny. “Certainly more profitable than prospecting was.”

“I’m going to have to decide what I’ll do for a job,” Rebecca said.

If Matt found the statement strange, he didn’t indicate that. “What are you qualified to do, Becky?” Matt asked.

“I think I could do anything I set my mind to,” she said. “I’m good with figures, and I love to cook and bake—I worked in a bakery for years. Maybe I can find a job working in one, or in a restaurant.”

Matt leaned forward. “Have you considered opening your own bakery?”

“I would love to, but I… we don’t have the money to get started.”

“Don’t be too sure about that. There’s a property for sale just a few blocks from here that used to be a bakery. It’s in excellent condition and there’s living quarters above it.”

“Oh, Becky, that would be ideal for you two,” Ginny enthused.

“We only have six hundred dollars. I’m sure it would cost much more than that to buy a building and the supplies I’d need.”

“Why not consider leasing it for six months and see if it will work out? It’s in a good location, and I would think you could attract a lot of customers. The town’s full of single men who would love fresh baked goods.”

“Do you think it would be possible to lease it?”

“I’m sure of it. I know the agent who’s handling it, and he’s very easy to do business with. His name is Matthew Brody.”

It was too good to be true. “Can I see it now?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t have the key here. How about tomorrow morning? Then, if you like it, you can sign a lease.”

Clay couldn’t wait to get out of there. Matthew Brody and his wife couldn’t have been nicer, but now her brother had convinced Becky to open a bakery! That would make it even harder to dissuade her from a divorce.

As soon as they returned to her room, he broached the subject. “I noticed you didn’t mention your intention to divorce me to your brother.”

“I thought it better Matt didn’t know.”

“You know I have not agreed to a divorce. And I think we have a lot more to discuss on that subject.”

“We
discussed
it in Independence. We
discussed
it numerous times on the trip to California. What more is there to
discuss
?”

“We’ve shared the same bed, and we
are
husband and wife. And I take my oaths seriously, Rebecca.”

“Doesn’t that armor you clank around in begin to feel heavy after awhile?”

Rebecca slumped down on a chair at the table, crooked her elbows, and cradled her head in her hand. She looked so desolate, he wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he was fighting to hold onto their marriage.

Clay sat down across from her. His anger had run its course, too. “So you’re back in the bakery business.”

Call it exhaustion, despair, or just having him sitting across the table from her again. Rebecca started to giggle. “That’s right. I came all the way to California to end up moving in above a bakery again.”

“Well, once they taste your peach pie, you’ll have more customers than you can handle.”

His remark surprised her. “I didn’t realize you liked it. You rarely said anything about my cooking.”

His gaze swept her face. “There were a lot of things I never said and should have.”

She couldn’t bear to meet that intense gaze of his. Her fingers itched to just reach out and touch his hand. An awkward silence developed between them. She finally asked, “I imagine you’ll be going back to Virginia.”

“I’m not sure. That long trip back is enough to tempt me to stay right here. Howard Garson tried to convince me to buy some property near him in a place called Napa Valley, southeast of here. He got it under the Homestead Act. If they occupy and farm the land for five years, it will belong to them.”

“You mean you would consider doing that?”

“No, the Homestead Act prohibits anyone who bore arms against the United States from benefiting from the program. That eliminates any of us Confederates.”

“That seems unfair. After all, the war is over and we’re all Americans now.”

“Yes, we are, aren’t we?” he said, amused. “But I’m sure I could raise the money to buy some land out here, if I decided to stay.”

Rebecca’s heart began pumping so quickly, she thought she would swoon. Was it possible Clay was considering not returning to Virginia? Remaining in California?

“Aren’t you needed on the plantation?”

“No, my brother Will has plenty of help now. That’s why Garth decided not to return.”

“He’s following a dream, Clay. Why didn’t you go with him?”

“Because it’s his dream, Becky. I have my own.”

“Another Fraser Keep?”

“No. You’ll laugh if I tell you what I’d really like to do.”

“I won’t laugh, Clay.”

“I’d like to start a vineyard.”

“A vineyard! What do you know about growing grapes?”

“I’ve been reading about it on the trail. My grandfather had about fifteen acres of grapevines and made as good a wine as you could buy. He’d hand out bottles of it to our family and friends at Christmas.”

“Can you support yourself raising grapes?”

“Same as any other farmer who’s raising fruit or vegetables. If it worked out, eventually I’d like to build a winery. I always loved following Grandfather around, helping him.” He looked embarrassed, like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “It probably sounds silly and impractical to you.”

“I don’t think it’s a silly dream at all, Clay. If that’s what you want, you should try it.”

“What I
want
is to talk about our marriage. I don’t want a divorce, Becky. I refuse to abandon you.”

Rebecca exploded. “Oh, please! I was on my own before I ever met you. Is this where I get the lecture about your honor again? I am so tired of hearing that I’m your responsibility, Clay Fraser. If I’m going to be a wife, I want a husband who wants me for myself. Who doesn’t look at me as an unwanted obligation thrust upon him!”

She took a deep breath to hold on to her control. “I owe you too much, to expect you to spend the rest of your life upholding an oath you were tricked into taking.”

Clay stood and stomped to the connecting door. “Forget it, Becky, I will
not
give you a divorce. And if you don’t want a conjugal visit from your husband tonight, I suggest you lock this door.”