He flashed her a conciliatory grin and gestured at the books lining the wall. “Have you considered becoming a novelist? A poet? Why don’t you take up painting or sketching. The work Emily does is lovely. I don’t want to restrict you, Mary Beth, just protect you. Can’t you see that?”
“I’m not another Emily. She’s so complacent, she makes me nauseated. Well, that’s not for me. If I study law, I can make a real difference in the world, Jake. I just know it, if only you’ll give me a chance.”
“Honey, you’ve already made a difference. Think of all the people in this family who love you—who need you.”
“That isn’t enough.” She threw up her hands.
The beginnings of a headache centered behind Jake’s eyes. He rubbed absently at his forehead. “We’ve been over this ground a hundred times.”
“And you know what’s best for me. I have the response memorized.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “And then you return to your work, forgetting my existence.” She waved a hand at the study. “And why not? You have the life you want.”
Did he? In his peripheral vision, he could see the waiting paperwork. Tomorrow he was bound for a mining town to negotiate yet another acquisition for his father. When he returned, his desk would be piled high with still more papers. What was the point? To acquire more wealth? To make Mary Beth happy? The first made a cold bedmate, and he was clearly failing miserably at the second.
“Mary Beth, what is it, exactly, that you want? Is it to be a lawyer? I doubt it. You’d detest it after six months.”
She took a step toward him. In a quavery voice, she said, “Would I? Who are you to decide? What I detest is being made to suffer because you are trying to absolve yourself!”
This was a new wrinkle. Jake narrowed an eye. “Absolve myself? What in hell does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like! Keeping me imprisoned in this tomb, protecting me from what you regard as the harsh realities, won’t bring our mother back. And it will never undo what our father did to her. Or that you stood by and watched it happen.”
That stung. Jake rose slowly from his chair. “You, young lady, are an ungrateful, spoiled little brat. How dare you bring up what happened to our mother?” He braced his fists on the desk. “You ask why I haven’t married Emily yet? Think about it. When have I had time for a wife and family? If not for me, an empty belly would have driven you to those tent saloons in the mining camps. You’d have danced for your supper, and possibly more. Was that my sin? Working a second job to keep food on your plate?”
“The threat of starvation ended so long ago that neither of us can even remember what hunger felt like.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not a child anymore. Yet you address me as ‘young lady’? How long has it been since you really looked at me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m looking at you now.”
“Are you? You’ve become blind to everything but your own obsessions. As for sacrifices? Oh, yes, you’ve made them. So many that I could weep, not the least of which was your ethics. Do you know what breaks my heart the most? You’ve despised him all your life, and now you’ve become just like him.”
Jake knew she referred to their father. The comparison was like a slap in the face. “I think we’d better postpone this little talk until we’re both a bit calmer.”
“When? You’re leaving in the morning to visit another hellhole mining town. God knows Ore-Cal Enterprises needs every acquisition it can get its grasping hands on.”
“That’s part of our business, Mary Beth, acquiring mines.”
“Stealing them, more like.”
The accusation knocked Jake clear off balance. “Stealing them? I’ve never stolen anything in my entire life!”
“Haven’t you? If you want to pretend you’re blind to what’s going on, that’s fine by me, but please don’t further destroy our relationship by lying to me about it.”
With that, she went to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going? You can’t say something like that and then walk out.”
She froze with her hand on the doorknob. “Maybe I’ll go down to the waterfront and”—she tossed him a glare over her shoulder—“dance for my supper. Prostitution
is
a feminine pursuit, is it not?”
Until that instant, Jake hadn’t realized Mary Beth even knew about the seedy activities that went on down at the waterfront.
“Surely you can’t argue with my doing that. That
is
all we women are good for. Correct? Females, whom men either protect or use, depending upon their nature. You, Jake, are a protector. And I am your victim. If only you would marry poor Emily. Then perhaps you’d make her life miserable instead of mine.”
With that, she walked out and slammed the door with such force that the walls reverberated. Jake stood there, frozen and feeling strangely numb. His victim?
He sank into his chair. The ache behind his eyes intensified. With a vicious sweep of his arm, he cleared the papers from his desk. They fluttered aimlessly to the floor. He watched them land, knowing damned well he’d be picking them up in a minute. Propping an elbow on the desk, he rested his head on his hand.
Scarcely a moment passed before he heard the door creak open. His brother, Jeremy, dark hair aglisten with raindrops, brown eyes dancing, poked his head into the room. “What the devil’s wrong with Mary Beth?”
“Nothing compared to what will be wrong with her. One more word, and I swear I’ll throttle her.”
Jeremy chuckled. Draping his gray frock coat over one arm, he stepped in and closed the door. The smell of rain, fresh air, and lavender swept in with him. Jake knew without asking that his handsome brother must have had late luncheon with one of his many ladies fair. Judging from the heavy scent of perfume, perhaps a bit more than luncheon.
People claimed Jake and Jeremy bore a marked resemblance, both of them extraordinarily tall, broad at the shoulder, narrow of hip, with ebony hair and naturally burnished skin, made even darker by their mutual penchant for being outdoors. Jake couldn’t see the likeness, though, aside from the slightest of similarities. One look from Jeremy sent women spinning onto their backs like unbalanced tops.
“Jesus, Jeremy, you smell like a French whore.”
His brother tugged on his starched white collar and stretched his neck, the picture of satiated masculinity. “Athena does go a bit heavy on the scent. A woman of excesses, that’s Athena, bless her generous heart.”
Jake searched his mind for a woman of their acquaintance who bore that name. “The dairyman’s daughter? The one who looks—”
“Who noticed her face? The girl’s glorious from the chin down. And don’t preach. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m old enough to tend my own stew.”
Jake gave it up as a lost cause. “Your stew stirring is the least of my troubles.”
In response to Jeremy’s questioning look, Jake gave him a quick account of his argument with their sister.
Jeremy’s teeth flashed in a grin.
Tugging up a gray pant leg, he perched his hip on the edge of Jake’s desk. “At least she’s gotten past the scalpel stage, and it’s nothing bloody this time.”
Jake sank into the soft leather cushion of his chair and leaned his head back. As he let his eyes drift closed, he asked, “Am I wrong, Jer? Is my way of thinking so terribly unfair?”
Jeremy took a moment to answer. “I don’t think it’s a question of right or wrong, fair or unfair. There are times, though, when I believe it’s possible to love people so much that we make the mistake of trying to wrap them in cotton.”
A heavy silence fell between them. Jake recalled Mary Beth’s words and was plagued by uncertainty. He had felt guilty about his mother’s death. To this day, he could remember shirking his chores the afternoon she died to play with Jeremy. His mother had gone to the creek and hauled the water herself. Though nineteen years had passed and he could look back on it now as an adult, realizing that any overworked eleven-year-old boy probably would have done the same, Jake couldn’t quite forgive himself. It was frightening to think he’d spent all these years trying to atone for his father’s sins. It was even scarier to think he’d forced Mary Beth to do penance with him.
“Tell me . . .” he said hoarsely. “If you were I, Jeremy, what would you do about Mary Beth?”
Jeremy sighed. “I don’t know. The hard part is that I can understand both sides. Mary Beth feels that her life is meaningless. But I can see how you feel, too. I can’t blame you for wanting to keep her home, where you have some control.”
Control. Was that how everyone saw it? “You know what it’d be like for her if I let her attend school. She’d meet with more opposition than she can possibly imagine getting admitted to the bar.”
Jeremy picked up the gold nugget from Jake’s desk that served as a paperweight. “Mary Beth’s a little bored, Jake, but boredom won’t kill her. She’ll get over this, just like she has a dozen other times. Why are you so upset? You’ve always laughed it off before.”
“Because I want to do right by her.” Jake sat more erect, not quite able to put his feelings about Mary Beth into words. “Why does it have to be my decision, anyway?”
Jeremy laughed and held up his hands. “Oh, no, you don’t! Leave me out of it.”
“She’s making me feel like a jailer.”
“Don’t pull me into your battles, Jake. Either way I go, I can’t win. You’re the eldest, and it’s your responsibility.”
“Maybe I’m tired of the responsibility.” Jake pushed up from his chair and paced a moment. Raking a hand through his hair, he paused before the window to gaze out into the street. A carriage passed by, its wheels sending up twin sprays of muddy water. “At least you can reason with her. God knows I can’t. When she gets on these tangents, the first thing I know, I’m so furious all I can do is yell. She had the audacity to accuse me of underhanded business tactics. Can you believe that?”
Jeremy made no response. Curious, Jake glanced over his shoulder. His brother kept his head bent, studying the gold nugget. Jake turned and waited. Jeremy remained silent.
“Well, aren’t you going to laugh?” Jake asked. “I’ve never done a dishonest thing in my life.”
Jake walked slowly back to the desk. “Jeremy . . . ?”
Sliding from his perch, Jeremy returned the nugget to its place, his broad shoulders stiff beneath the gray silk of his vest. The sleeves of his white shirt stretched taut over the bunched muscles in his upper arms. “Now isn’t the time, Jake.”
“Now’s the perfect time. What in hell is all this about?”
“Damn Mary Beth and her mouth.” Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “You’re putting me in a hell of a spot.”
“That’s too damned bad. We’ve never kept secrets in this family.”
“Maybe you and I haven’t,” Jeremy said in a strained voice.
“And what, exactly, does that mean?”
“That Father isn’t so candid around you as he is me.”
“Meaning?”
Jeremy’s lips thinned. “Meaning I’ve overheard certain things, seen things, that have made me—” He swiped his sleeve across his mouth. “I have reason to believe our father
assists
small operations in going under so he can buy them out.”
Jake stared at him. “Have you any idea what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” The starch went out of Jeremy’s shoulders. “Take Wolf’s Landing, where you’re headed tomorrow? About two months ago, as I was approaching Father’s office, I heard a conversation between him and Hank Sample. Wolf’s Landing was mentioned. I remember the name because it’s unusual. Father said, ‘Take care of it, Hank.’ Now, you’re headed there to make the owner an offer.”
Jake waved a hand. “So? It’s a fair offer. And he’ll be damned glad to get it. The owner’s laid up with an injury and can’t work. He won’t be able to for months. Our stepping in may save him from financial ruin.”
“How was Hunter Wolf injured?”
“You know the man’s name?”
“I’ve done some investigating, yes. How was he injured?”
A trickle of uneasiness inched up Jake’s spine. “A cave-in, I think.”
Jeremy nodded. “One of several. Just small ones. Little inconveniences, costly but fixable. There has been a rash of accidents in and around that mine this last month.”
Jake knotted his hands into fists. “That’s a despicable accusation, and you know it. Hunter Wolf was nearly killed. Father may be greedy. God knows I’d be the last person to defend him. But he’s no murderer.”
Jeremy’s gaze didn’t falter. “That’s a risk with arranged accidents. Sooner or later, someone is bound to be in the wrong place at the right time.”
Jake could see by the look in his brother’s eyes that he truly believed what he was saying. He slumped against the desk.
“Check the records,” Jeremy challenged. “There’ve been no injuries in the past, but practically every acquisition Father made was preceded by a string of bad luck that put the business in the red. I’m certain of nothing, but in every instance, the bad luck miraculously ended the moment Ore-Cal took over.”
For a moment, Jake was swept back in time and standing by his mother’s grave. Mary Beth’s voice rang in his mind.
All Pa cares about is finding color.
“I couldn’t be that blind.”
“Maybe I’m seeing what you don’t because Father isn’t quite so careful around me. I’ve seen him tidying his desk before you enter the office, stashing papers, covering them with other correspondence.” Jeremy threw up his hands. “Just think about it, Jake. How is it that Father always knows, Johnny-on-the-spot, when a business is in trouble? It’s not only mines, you know. Three months ago, it was a hotel. In every case, he steps in with an offer at just the right moment. Do you think people facing bankruptcy send out notices to prospective buyers?”
Jake stared at the ceiling. There was a ring of truth in what Jeremy said. His father did seem to have an almost uncanny sense of timing, moving in for a takeover at the perfect moment. And Jake knew Jeremy well enough to feel certain he wouldn’t say such things without reasonable cause.
Dear God.
The study seemed to close in around him.