"You could hardly expect to keep your valley a secret forever."
The tips of Connor's fingers pressed whitely against the tumbler.
"But it isn't my valley, is it?"
"That's true," Rushton said. "It's mine."
Jay Mac rolled his tumbler between his hands thoughtfully.
"When my daughter telegraphed that she had found an excellent location for the line from Cannon Mills to Denver I was interested.
Cannon Mills has untapped resources in silver and gold because until now there's been no way to ship out the ore. Northeast Rail has made a name for itself in the territory by giving rail access to miners and mining consortiums at fair cost. We did it first at queen's Point and later in Madison. The people in Cannon Mills want the rail line."
"I told your daughter when she and the others came to do the survey that no part of the land was for sale. She asked to complete her survey anyway and I let her."
"Rennie's very persuasive.
Connor recalled the heated discussion that had swayed his judgment.
"A gross understatement." He took a short swallow of his drink. "When she left with her team from Northeast I thought that was the end of it.
Mrs. Sullivan, it seems, is not only persuasive, but persistent as well. She went to the land office in Denver and discovered that I didn't hold the deed. I suppose that changed everything in her mind.
She recognized my father's name and had you call on him. I don't know when the conversation turned from land to heirs, or even who first broached the idea, but somewhere along the way the two of you stopped talking about railroad accesses and started talking dynasties."
Connor put down his drink. "Frankly, gentlemen, I'm just not interested." Not waiting for any response, he left the room.
Rushton and Jay Mac both listened for the sound of the front door being opened and closed. It never came.
"Where would he go?" Rushton asked.
"He's probably cooling his heels in the library. It's just down the hallway and I remember seeing the door was open earlier."
A cloud of blue-gray smoke circled Rushton's head as he exhaled slowly.
"That didn't go well at all."
"No, it didn't," Jay Mac conceded. "I like your son though. He's not easily intimidated."
"He was insolent and insulting."
Jay Mac shrugged. "His back's to the wall and he knows it. I admire him for wanting to hold onto the land." He sipped his drink.
"I apologize for my daughter's behavior this evening. I had hoped things would proceed along a different course."
"I confess that I thought your daughter would be older. I'm not certain that she and Connor would suit at all."
"Older?" Jay Mac frowned. "She's twenty-three. Surely that's old enough. Your son's what? . . . thirty? They're of an age where they would suit admirably."
"Twenty-three?" mused Rushton. "I wouldn't have guessed more than sixteen."
"How would you have guessed at all? She wasn't even here this evening."
Rushton looked at Jay Mac in some confusion. "Not here? But "Oh, you thought Schyler was . . . heavens no . . . of course she wouldn't suit." He chuckled with genuine amusement. "Skye's nineteen though, not sixteen. I'm afraid she put on quite a show for your son tonight.
It was really meant as a warning to me.
"A warning?"
"Yes, indeed," Jay Mac said. "She was telling me to . .
"Stay out of my life, thank you very much," Skye said, plopping down on the overstuffed chair in her sister's bedchamber.
"Did you actually say that?" Maggie asked, suspicious of her sister's bravado.
"I may as well have. Oh, Mag, you should have seen me! You would have been so proud!"
Maggie was also proud that she had had the courage to defy her father and not show up at all. Now, next to her younger sister's resourcefulness, it didn't seem so very much. "Proud or embarrassed?" she asked.
"Oh, both, I'm sure," Skye went on happily. Complaining that she didn't feel well, she had asked to be excused from the after-dinner conversation and her mother had barely been able to contain her relief.
"No one knew quite what to do with me. I almost felt sorry for poor Mr. Holiday."
"Father or son?"
Skye shrugged. Her bright hair spilled over her shoulders. "Both, I suppose. Does it matter?"
"I think it's harder to feel sorry for the father. He's in this up to his neck with Jay Mac." She sighed and closed the book she'd been reading, keeping her finger in place to mark her page. "What's got into Jay Mac? I mean, why now? He's never mentioned marriage for me.
He knows I want to be a doctor. I have an excellent chance of being accepted by that women's college in Philadelphia."
"Who knows why Jay Mac does the things he does? Besides the fact that he loves us and thinks he knows very well what's best for us.
Michael stood up to him and so did Rennie."
"Rennie ended up marrying the man he picked out for her."
"True, but it was her choice. And Mary Francis did what she wanted."
"Mary Francis became a nun," Maggie said dryly. "Even Jay Mac has to realize there are limits to his influence."
Skye laughed. "Well, my point is that she did what she wanted.
You'll have to do the same, Mag."
Maggie's lower lip was sucked in under her teeth. She worried it gently, her wide, green eyes uncertain. "I don't know. I'm not like the rest of you. It's not so easy for me."
"Easy? Who said it was easy? Do you think my heart wasn't thumping near out of my chest? I pushed that spinach between my teeth and smiled for all I was worth and prayed I had the courage to keep it there. I simpered and chatted and pretended I'd never completed a sentence, let alone a complete thought, in my entire life.
Jay Mac was glaring at me, especially when I went on about religion, and Mama looked as if she wished herself anywhere but where she was.
Rushton Holiday felt sorry for me, sorrier for Jay Mac and Mama. Beryl Holiday-who I do not like one bit, I can tell you, though she's astonishingly beautiful--was looking rather pleased because I was so clearly unsuitable for her stepson."
"And Connor?"
"He, my dear sister, shows the measure of just how difficult this was.
Connor Holiday is a very handsome man. Very handsome. He was considerate, too. And polite. A trifle cool perhaps, reserved really, but that was to be expected. Playing the fool in front of him was rather like cutting off my nose to spite my face. Teaching Father a lesson about interference has never been so painfully humiliating."
"If you've taken a liking to Mr. Holiday then perhaps you should..."
Skye held up her hand, cutting off her sister. "Oh no, I worked too hard making my point to do an about-face. Besides that, I don't think Connor would have me as a gift."
Since her sister was a beautiful, and an often-sought-after companion, Maggie knew Skye must have made a horrible impression.
"Then neither of us is going to have him."
"You'll have to make a stand. Jay Mac and Rushton are still plotting."
"How do you know
