Lacy (19 page)

"We're not suppose to know," came the
dry response. "We're the weaker sex. We must be protected from such
things, lest we suffer the vapors." She made a fainting gesture with her
arm across her eyes.

"We have the vote, dear. We no longer have
the vapors," Marion reminded her, with a smile, her mood lightening a
little. "All the same, I worry, Lacy," she added. "Faye is a
delicate child, all eyes and thin lines. She seems so ill at times, as if she
can barely get around at all."

"She's a sweet little thing. But Ben is
very young still—and in love with the idea of being a famous journalist. He
is
talented,
you know.. .and marriage to a newspaper heiress can't hurt his career."

"Is his profession more important than his
family?"

"Give him time," Lacy said gently.
"He's a Whitehall. He'll remember it one of these days. He's feeling his
wings for the first time. Let him fly."

Marion
leaned back against her
straight-backed chair. "I shall pray that he doesn't land himself in a
cactus plant."

"You do that." Lacy laughed.

"It's just that— Oh, my!" Marion sat very still and her eyes widened. Her hand went to her chest. "Such… pressure!
Lacy, how odd
..."

She pitched headfirst toward the floor; only
Lacy's quick intercession saving her a bad fall. But Marion was unconscious,
and Lacy was scared to death. She didn't know what to do, so she ran for the
back door and yelled for Cole. Please God, let him be in the barn and not out
on the ranch somewhere!

As if in answer to a prayer. Cole came out of
the dark barn at once. "What is it?" he called.

"It's Marion! Do hurry! I'm afraid it's her
heart!"

He broke into a run and made it through the
kitchen door just as Lacy was holding a bottle of ammonia under Marion's nose in an attempt to bring her around.

After a minute, the older woman began to stir,
coughing. Lacy helped her into a sitting position with Cole's help.

"I feel so sick," Marion said,
swallowing. She was deathly pale and her skin felt clammy.

"I'm sorry, but we'll have to drive you in
to Dr. Simon, Mother,"

Cole said quietly. "No arguments ," he
added when she hesitated. "This isn't the first spell you've had. It's
time to let a doctor tell us what's wrong."

Marion
subsided. "Very
well," she said weakly. "But I shall be sick all the way."

"We can carry a basin and a damp cloth with
us," Lacy suggested, and went to fetch them.

Together they got Marion into the runabout, and
Cole drove them to town.

Lacy had been hoping for a miracle. None was
forthcoming. Dr. Simon diagnosed Marion's condition as heart dropsy. It was a
death sentence, as they all knew. Weeks, months, maybe a year, but Marion's fate was sealed just that quickly, just that finally.

Cole was silent all the way home, and Lacy and Marion talked halfheartedly about the weather. Dr. Simon had prescribed some pills for Marion, to help the pain, and bed rest as long as her weakness and nausea persisted.

"We'll have to cancel Ben's party—"
Lacy began.

"We shall not," Marion replied firmly.
"It may be the last..." Her voice broke and she had to top and try
again. "It might be the last party I see at Spanish Flats. We shall not
cancel it. Go right ahead with the preparations, Lacy—and I shall do everything
I can to help you."

"It's out of the question," Cole said
curtly. It was the first time he'd spoken, and despite the paleness of his face,
he was determined.

"Don't argue with me, please,
Coleman," Marion said gently. "I have the right to decide how I spend
the time I have left."

"Simon should never have told you!"

"Yes, he should. You know that I dislike
lies. It was only what I suspected, at any rate. I think I knew, even before he
told me," she said quietly, her eyes lackluster but resigned. "I'm a Whitehall, you know," she added, with a forced smile. "We're a very strong
breed."

Cole's dark eyes slid over her face, which
showed faint terror, and then to Lacy's equally grim one. Somehow, the fear in
Lacy's eyes made him strong. He smiled at her gently, reassuringly, and saw her
relax a little. They'd manage, he told her without words.

"All right,"he said finally.
"Have your damned party, if you must."

"It will give Bennett something to
remember," she agreed. "A fine send-off for his engagement and his
job."

"As long as his city friends don't come
down here with their noses in the air," Cole replied. "I won't
tolerate snobbery—not even for my brother's sake."

"I'm sure they're not snobs, dear," Marion said, but she didn't look all that certain.

"No?" Cole turned onto the ranch road,
sending a cloud of dust behind them as he accelerated. "I've heard some
gossip about the girl he's getting engaged to. She sounds pretty fast to
me."

"It's Ben's life," Lacy reminded him.

"So it is."

"Coleman, please slow down. You'll snap the
bands again," Marion said, with a weak sigh.

"I carry plenty of spares," he replied
patiently.

"Tires, too, I hope," Lacy murmured.
"We had two punctures the last time I took my great-aunt Lucy to town to
shop."

"Did you change them yourself?" he
asked, with a teasing smile.

She beamed at the camaraderie. "No.
Fortunately some of Great-aunt Lucy's gentlemen friends drove us, both times. San Antonio has so much traffic that I would find it terrifying to drive there. If I could
drive," she confessed.

"Never learn, dear," Marion advised.
"What you learn, you may be forced to use one day. Better to remain
ignorant and untaxed."

"The voice of wisdom." Cole chuckled.
But inwardly he was worrying about how to tell Katy and Ben about their mother.
He hated the thought of admitting they were going to lose her. It hurt him as
nothing else ever had. At least he had Lacy, he thought, thanking God and his
mother for arranging that meeting in San Antonio. It wouldn't be as hard with
Lacy beside him through the ordeal.

Lacy was thinking the same thing, and wondering
how Cole was going to tell the others. She was glad it wouldn't be on her
shoulders. But, then, Cole's shoulders were very broad, and he never shirked
responsibility. Just being with him gave her a sense of confidence and
optimism, although certainly there was very little to be optimistic about at
the moment. She slid her fingers into Marion's and held on tight. This woman
had been both mother and father to her for eight years. It was going to be
terribly painful to lose her. But perhaps with plenty of rest and care, Marion could live a little longer. Lacy would certainly do her part, she thought, to
stretch however much time she had left.

Back at Spanish Flats, Marion was coaxed into
lying down and resting after she'd had one of the pills Dr. Simon had
prescribed. Lacy stayed with her until she fell asleep and then she went to
join a somber Cole in the kitchen, where he was drinking a cup of coffee.

He looked up as she walked into the room, his
face pale and drawn, his eyes bitter and sad.

Lacy, impulsive as always, went straight to him
and gently drew his cheek to her breasts, holding him there with her own cheek
on his dark hair.

She felt his quick, indrawn breath, and thought
ruefully that she'd probably done the wrong thing again. But his arms suddenly
clasped her trim waist and he groaned as he held her.

"I love her, too," she said gently,
her eyes closing. "But we'll manage, somehow."

"We'll have to," he said stiffly. His
heart felt as if it had nails in it. Ten penny nails, at that. Lacy smelled of
light cologne and her breasts were soft against his lean cheek. She had a big
heart, he thought proudly, and let himself relax. It was the first time in
adulthood that he'd accepted comfort from anyone, but today he needed it.

"You'll tell Ben and Katy?" she asked.

"Yes. I can telephone Katy, I
suppose,"he muttered, disapproval in his tone. "Ben can wait until
his party to hear about it. That will give him a little more time to live in
blissful ignorance. Perhaps I'll wait until then to tell Katy, too."

Putting if off until the last minute, Lacy
thought, but she didn't say it.

Finally Cole spanned her waist with his big,
lean hands and moved her away from him. He put her into the chair next to his
and handed her his handkerchief while he filled a white mug full of steaming
black coffee for her.

She dabbed at the tears. "Thank you."

He shrugged. "I don't feel any less
miserable than you do, if it helps. I didn't mind so much giving up my father.
He was a hard, cold man, Lacy.. .with selfish ways and a savage streak. But
Mother is—well, Mother."

"I know." She handed him back the
handkerchief and sipped her coffee, her blues eyes meeting his over the rim of
the mug. "I won't let her tire herself with this party, but it would be
more of a strain on her if we tried to cancel it. She's got her heart set on
giving Ben a royal send-off for his wedding and his new job."

"Spare her as much as you can, then. I'll
have the men butcher a steer for you, and a pig, too, if you want it. We can
have Taggart and Cherry cook it."

She managed a wobbly smile. "So long as
they don't have to serve it," she said.

He smiled. "Yes, I understand. We'll keep
them downwind of everyone while they cook it."

"I can get some of the wives to help me
prepare the rest of the food and serve it. Cole...I don't suppose it would be
wise to invite little Faye?"

"No. We can't do that to Ben."

"She's so fragile. I feel quite sorry for
her."

"So do I, Lacy. But people can't love to
order."

Her blue eyes searched over his hard, dark face.
"No, they can't," she said softly.

He met that telling look and his jaw tightened.
"One of these days you'll look at me like that and I'll jump the
fence."

She caught her breath. "I don't
understand."

"Don't you?" He moved suddenly,
catching her by the nape of her neck with one big hand and pulling her mouth up
to meet the hard descent of his.

He kissed her hungrily for the space of several
seconds. Just when she relaxed and gave in, he let her go.

"You'd give me anything I wanted,"he
said huskily, his eyes glittering into hers at point-blank range. "Do you
have any idea how it makes me feel to know that?"

"No, because you keep pulling back,"
she whispered unsteadily.

His thumb moved slowly under her lower lip,
taking away the dark traces of smudged lip rouge. "I can't make love to
you in the light, Lacy," he said roughly. "I'll never be able
to."

She didn't want to speak, to break the spell.
He'd never been so frank with her. "It won't matter," she said
fiercely. "Don't you understand, Cole? I love you!"

"Love may not be enough," he said wearily.
He got to his feet angrily. "I have to get back to work."

Lacy got up, too, and retrieved the handkerchief
she'd borrowed from beside his plate. "Just a minute. My lip rouge doesn't
look that good on you."

He stopped, standing very still while she wiped
his thin lips and removed the traces of dark red from them.

He watched her face hungrily. After a minute, he
took the stained cloth away and, holding her head in one hand, removed the
rouge from her own mouth.

"Why... ?" she exclaimed.

He tossed the handkerchief onto the table and
bent to lift her off the floor in his bearish embrace. "Kiss me," he
breathed against her lips.

She tingled all over with excitement. She smiled
as she gave in to him, her arms around his neck. He was very strong and warm,
and she loved the strength as well as the familiar scent of him. Her mouth
opened involuntarily and she clung closer as his arms contracted while the long
kiss went on and on.