Lacy (18 page)

His head turned as Turk came galloping up,
looking oddly amused when he saw the boss with his wife in his arms.

"Excuse me. I didn't you two were going to
be spooning in the middle of the trail,"Turk drawled, tugging his hat over
his eyes.

Lacy leaned back in Cole's hard arms and glared
up at him. "You're not the only lady's man around, Mr. Sheridan." She
grinned. "And you don't have the advantage of dark, smoldering Latin
eyes."

Cole actually laughed. Despite the gravity of
the situation, and the horror he expected to see on her face once she knew his
secret, he laughed.

"Valentino in the flesh." Turk
grinned. "Yes, I do see the resemblance."

"Do you want a job?" Cole asked his
friend. "The stables need mucking out—"

"Don't let me interrupt you,"Turk said
quickly. "It's just that old man Cameron is coming up the road
hell-for-leather; he's been drinking, and his face is bloodred. I think you're
in trouble."

"I wonder what in hell little Faye has told
her Daddy?" Cole sighed bitterly. He put Lacy down. "I knew there was
going to be trouble when Ben told her he was going to miss her birthday
party."

"I don't think it's that," the blond
man said, with a quick glance at Lacy.

"I do know the facts of life," she
told the ex-flyer. "I won't turn into a lily pad if you mention the word sex
in front of me."

Turk burst out laughing, and Cole's face broke
up.

"Ben's probably seduced her. Isn't that
what you're trying so hard to insinuate?" Lacy asked Turk.

"The very thing," he replied easily.
He crossed his hands over his pommel. "Ben sneaked out two nights in a row
to go and see her before he left for San Antonio. One night I followed. He went
to the Cameron place."

"And?" Cole prodded.

"She was waiting for him at the front door.
Nobody else was home. Her dad's car was missing."

Cole made a hissing sound. "Oh, sh—"
He remembered Lacy and bit off the rest of the word. His upbringing wouldn't
allow range language in front of a lady. No decent man swore around women,
although his father certainly hadn't spared his mother.

Lacy threw up her hands. "I give up. What
has suffrage gotten us, anyway? Equality only on paper and in the cities."
She put her hands on her lean hips and glared at the two of them. She
enunciated the word quite clearly and gave him a triumphant smile. "Isn't that
what you were—Cole!"

He'd aimed a sharp slap at her backside and
connected, inclining his head with a jerk when she jumped and turned red.
"Say it again in front of me and see where it gets you.. .and equality be
damned!"

Turk was trying to hide a grin. Lacy stomped her
foot, turned, and stormed off toward the house.

"What a hell of a woman," Cole said,
with obvious admiration, watching her. "Oh, God. I'll die if she walks out
a second time."

"She won't," Turk said quietly.
"Not that lady."

"She doesn't know," Cole said,
watching the black Model T Ford come crawling up the long drive.

"It won't matter to her. Haven't you
noticed the way she looks at you, you idiot?"

"Infatuation wears off," Cole replied.
"And she's not like some women. She isn't going to be happy without—"

"What if it was her?" the other man
demanded hotly. "Think about it. What if it was her instead of you? Would
you walk away?"

"I don't know," he said bitterly,
averting his eyes. "God, I don't know! It would take a hell of a lot of
love to accept what I am."

"She's
got
a
hell of a lot." He hit the other man on the shoulder with rough affection.
"Unbend a little. You'll break. And speaking of breaks, here comes your
next outburst of bad temper. I'm leaving before I get caught in the
crossfire."

"I ought to give him Ben," Cole
grumbled.

"I'll help you catch the boy,"Turk
promised. "He could use a little trouble. You've paved his way all his
life." "Who else was there?"

"Point taken. Okay, I'm gone. Domestic
squabbles are not my first love."

Cole just kept his eyes on the black car as it
chugged up just in front of him and stopped.

Ira Cameron dragged his black-suited bulk out of
the car and straightened meticulously. He needed a shave. His jowls hung down
almost to the stained white collar of his shirt, and his hair looked as if it
had recently been stuck to the inside of a cereal bowl. His hammy hands both
met on the door as he closed it, and he stared at Cole blankly until his small
dark eyes could focus.

"There you are, Coleman," he mumbled.
He leaned on the hood, glaring at the younger man. "I been looking for
you. What's this about your baby brother ruining my baby girl?"

"Women don't get ruined, they get
laid," Cole said imperturbably. "And Ben wouldn't need to rape
one."

"That's a lie!"

"Oh, hell, Ira. You know she worships
him," Cole muttered as he pulled out the makings and began to roll a
cigarette. "She's run after him for months. What do you want me to do?
Drag him back from San Antonio and force him to marry her?"

The heavyset man shifted restlessly. "It
would save her good name." He nodded slowly.

"It would ruin her life," Cole shot
back. "Living with a man who was forced to marry her... She'd hate him.
And go ahead, Ira. Ask me how I know."

Ira cleared his throat. "Heard that young
Ben played one joke too many. Still, he wouldn't be a bad son-in-law."

"He's engaged.
To
some fancy city woman. Rich, too."

Ira sighed. "Well, that's that, then,"
he muttered. He ran a hand through his sweaty salt-and-pepper hair. "Hell,
now what do I do?"

"Send Faye over and let Lacy talk to
her," Cole replied, knowing that his feisty wife would know exactly what
to say, even if he didn't. He smiled a little. "She's got a way with
people. She isn't even afraid of me."

"That makes her a minority, all right. But
Ben oughtn't have seduced her."

"I'll agree with that," Cole said.
"And he'll hear about it when he comes down here."

Ira nodded. Cole was as good as his word.
"You tell him I think he's a scoundrel. And if sets foot on my place
again, I'll blow off his leg."

That was drunken bravado and frustrated pride,
and Cole recognized it as such. He only nodded back, letting the older man get
away with it.

Ira straightened. Well, he wasn't such a
weakling after all; he'd even stood up to Coleman Whitehall. "I'll say
good day, then."

"Be careful in that thing," Cole said.
"You're a little shaky on your feet, old fella."

"I'll be fine, you know. Just sampling my
own product." He grinned. "Chicago ain't the only place that can
produce bathtub gin. And times is hard, Cole."

"So I've noticed."

"I can let you have a bottle."

"I don't drink," came the quiet reply.

"Oh. Well. Too bad. I'd hate like hell to
have to face the day sober." He lifted his hand and got back into his car.
He almost ran it through two fences getting it turned, but he finally made it
down the road.

Cole watched him go, sighing bitterly. So Ben
had jumped another fence. Poor little Faye. Ben should've known better. And
Cole was going to give him hell when he came down here. He owed Faye that much.
Poor little kid. Wearing her heart out on a man who didn't want her. He cocked
his head toward the house. Was he doing that to Lacy? Was that how she'd felt
when he'd let her run off to San Antonio and hadn't gone after her?

He grimaced. He felt almost as sorry for himself
as he felt for Faye. He knew that Lacy was aroused by him, that she cared for
him. But his own feelings frightened him. He was going to have to trust her
with all his dark secrets, and that might mean losing her forever.

He didn't know how he was going to go on living
if he laid his pride at her feet and she turned away from him.

He lifted his cigarette to his mouth, took a
draw, and ground it out underfoot. Well, there was only one way to find out. If
she truly cared about him, perhaps it would all come right in the end. and if
not... He turned back toward the corral. It might be just as well not to think
about that right now.

Chapter Eight

Ira
managed to stop the car
just in front of the steps—no mean feat when he could barely find the brake. He
staggered out, weaving for a moment on the wide running board before he went
around the car and sat down heavily on the wooden steps.

"Papa, what did he say?" Faye asked
nervously from the doorway. She was wringing her hands with frustration and
unease. Telling her father about Ben's seduction of her had been a last-ditch
stand, but even as she wailed, she'd known it wasn't going to work. She
couldn't possibly compete with the San Antonio woman Ben had mentioned. She'd
lost him. Her father's face told her own story, and she felt as if her heart
had withered inside her frail body.

"Ben wasn't there. Coleman said he'd talk
to young Ben," Ira said. "Won't do any good, though... What with him
just getting engaged and all."

Faye thought her heart would stop beating.
"En—gaged?"

"That's what Cole said.
To
some woman in San Antonio." He
grimaced at her expression. "Faye, don't cry. There's a honey. I'm sorry,
girl."

"Oh, Papa!" Faye ran back into the
house in tears. How could Ben be so callous? He'd never said he loved her, but
surely he realized that she was a good girl? She'd never even kissed anyone
except Ben, and here he was about to marry that socialite!

She threw herself across the bed and wailed
until her throat was sore and her eyes were red. She wasn't pregnant. She'd
wanted to be, but the three times Ben had made love to her had been rushed—and
he hadn't even been quite sober any of them. There wasn't going to be a baby.
Ben didn't know that, though. She brightened a little at the thought of Coleman
telling Ben. It might bring him back to her. Even if he didn't love her now,
she could make him love her. She'd treat him so good he'd
have
to
love her. All she had to do was hold on and she might win him yet, despite his
fancy woman...

A few minutes later, Marion Whitehall sought out
Lacy, unaware of the reason for Ira's abrupt departure out front.

"You look worried," Lacy said as they
had coffee together in the kitchen.

"I am," Marion replied. She sat down
heavily; she didn't look well. She was pale. There were new lines in her face
more gray in her once-dark hair. "It's Benjamin's party. However shall
we—"

"There's nothing to worry about," Lacy
interrupted, smiling. "I talked Cole into letting me take care of the
expenses."

Marion
all but gasped.
"You did? But how?"

That was something Lacy wasn't willing to admit.
She creamed and sugared her coffee, avoiding Marion's sharp eyes. "I
appealed to his logic," she replied. "Anyway, he'll allow me to do as
I think best. Ben will have his party."

"But will he come to it?" Marion said miserably. "Lacy, he's so reluctant. It's almost as if he's—well, ashamed
of us. Those San Antonio folk he's staying with are monied people. Perhaps he
doesn't want his future father-in-law to see how we live here."

"How we live!" Lacy put down her
coffee cup. "Marion, we're quite civilized. We have indoor plumbing,
electricity, even a telephone!" She stopped short of mentioning that she
could compete quite comfortably with Ben's city friends with her own
inheritance. She didn't say it because she didn't want to make Marion feel worse.

"But we're not wealthy, dear. And these
newspaper people would see that. I do not like to think of how Coleman would
react to snobbery."

Neither did Lacy. "I'm sure they have
manners," she said, but she didn't sound or feel convincing.

"Ira was here about Faye, wasn't he?" Marion continued. "I suppose Benjamin's done something scandalous to that poor
girl?"