Broken Vows (30 page)

      
“Do write as often as you can, Millicent. I promise there'll be a letter every day from me,” she added, kissing Michael. “You be a good boy, and maybe if your father can spare the time we'll be able to visit you this fall when we arrive in Washington.”

      
“That's only if Father receives the federal appointment,” Michael replied gravely. “I overheard Uncle Henry say he might not. What if you can't come to Washington?” A note of panic made his clear child's voice break.

      
“You must've misunderstood. I'm sure your father will get the post,” Henry Snead said, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. “You just be a good boy and study hard until your ma and pa can come east. All right?”

      
Michael looked at his uncle gravely. “I'll do my best, sir.” Then, he flung himself into his mother's arms for one last good-bye hug, no matter if she did squish him, no matter if he was trying so hard to act grown up.

      
Rebekah held her son tightly, looking up at her brother-in-law with raw anguish in her eyes. “I love you, Michael. Always remember how very, very much Mama loves you!” she murmured against his soft hair.

      
The conductor called “all aboard” for the last time and the train gave a great hiss of its steam engines. “We must go, Mrs. Wells.” Millicent's voice was drowned out by the noise as she knelt and gently tugged on the boy's arm.

      
Rebekah nodded and released Michael into her charge while Henry signaled the conductor to assist them in boarding the last car. As soon as the governess and Michael disappeared inside the passenger car, Rebekah crumpled, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. Henry put an arm of brotherly comfort around her shoulders, feeling the great sobs that racked her slender frame.

      
“Now, Rebekah, you have to be strong,” he said gently.

      
“It's just not fair, Henry. He's such a little boy to be sent so far. First, Amos made him stay here with nurses and governesses while we were in Washington. Now while we're here, he sends Michael all the way to Massachusetts.”

      
“Calverton's supposed to be the best boy's school in the country,” Henry said placatingly.

      
Rebekah wiped at the tears with her hankie and looked him in the eye. “Would you send your boys all the way across country to school—however fancy it was?”

      
He shrugged helplessly. “No, no, of course not, but we both know Amos feels differently.”

      
“Yes. Michael is his pawn to keep me in line. The only way I ever get to see my son is if I do exactly as he says. He knows the threat of keeping Michael from me will always work. When I married him, I believed I was doing what was best for my child. I've tried, Henry—I've honestly tried to be a good wife, but nothing will ever make this marriage anything but a travesty.” She fell in step with her brother-in-law after the train vanished down the track. Over the years, he had become her only real friend and confidant.

      
“Your marriage isn't the only travesty, Rebekah. You know Leah and I haven’t gotten on for years. If it weren't for the boys, hell, I don't know if I'd put up with her shrewish outbursts. And we started out being in love—or at least I thought we were,” he added with a bitter laugh.

      
Rebekah had watched as Henry and her sister grew farther apart, he working longer hours while Leah spent his money. “Sometimes I think there is no such thing as real love between men and women—at least not the storybook kind marriages are supposed to be built on. I should’ve realized that from my parents' relationship.”

      
“How is Ephraim doing? I haven't been very good about going to see him. Seems like whenever I go with Leah to Wellsville, we fight.”

      
“I know how busy you are between the mines and the ranch, Henry. Papa's doing all right. Losing Mama so suddenly with her heart seizure—well, it was a shock; but as I said, they were never really close.” She paused, thinking of the Irish girl her father had loved and lost a lifetime ago back in Boston.
She still haunts him as Rory haunts me.

      
“Leah takes after her mother. You, on the other hand, have your pa's gentleness, Rebekah. I know Amos hasn't been easy on you.”

      
“I'll get by, Henry. It's Michael I fear for.” She stopped and took hold of his arm. “Please, if I could presume?”

      
“Anything you need, Rebekah. You know you only have to ask,” Henry replied earnestly.

      
“If anything were to happen to me, would you look after Michael? I know it's a lot of responsibility. You have your own two boys and all—”

      
“That's all right. I understand about Amos and the boy.” His face reddened, and he looked away.

      
He's embarrassed.
“We've never talked about the circumstances of Michael's birth, but I know Leah told you Michael isn’t Amos’s son.” Now, it was she who did not meet his eyes. She could not reveal her husband's affliction to anyone. It was too humiliating to her as well as to him. “Amos wanted an heir. I don't ever think he'll do anything to harm Michael. It's just...”

      
“He has no fatherly feelings for the boy,” Henry supplied. “I'll look out for Michael. Maybe, when I'm in Philadelphia or New York on business, I can make a side trip and visit the boy at Calverton. Rebekah...” He paused, then cleared his throat and asked, “Do you ever think about him?”

      
She knew he meant Rory. “It would be difficult not to since his name has been in the newspapers almost every day, first in Washington, now here.”

      
“He's certainly had a meteoric rise,” Snead said angrily. “His older brother had already amassed a fortune in the China trade, but he never had political aspirations.”

      
“Neither does Rory. He's refused to try for Amos' Senate seat or even run for a third term in the House. No, he doesn't care about politics. He just wants to ruin Amos. And my family.”

      
“That dirty saloon trash! He—”

      
“That's exactly why he's so set on this revenge. Don't you see? My family thought he wasn't good enough for me.” She let out a small, choking laugh. “I guess no one thought he'd amount to much, myself included. I never dreamed he'd be more than a struggling stockman with a small place. But I'd have settled for that.”

      
He looked at her with shrewd dark eyes. “Are you still in love with him?” He drew his own conclusions even when she shook her head.

      
“I don't know. He betrayed me and now he's set out to punish me for a lifetime of slights and prejudices because of his Irish heritage.”

      
“He's proven to be a man of weak moral fiber just like your father predicted eight years ago,” Henry replied.

      
“That doesn't justify our prejudices, Henry,” she said with a heavy sigh. She swallowed and raised her chin. “Whatever else he is, he is Michael's father. There, I've said it out loud for the first time in eight years.”

      
“Does it make you feel better, having it in the open?”

      
“No,” she replied forlornly. “Not at all. In fact, I fear...already Michael is starting to resemble Rory so much.” She shuddered. “If Amos begins to think someone might guess, he'll banish Michael forever!”

      
“And then there's Madigan himself—would he be above using the boy to blackmail you?” His tone of voice already gave the answer.

      
She nodded. “I live in mortal terror of that, too. He must never see Michael.”

      
“He won't. I swear it.”

      
Her eyes filled with tears as they resumed walking toward the waiting carriage. “I'm so grateful for your friendship, Henry. Thank you.”

* * * *

      
Leah Snead was having one of her “spells,” as her husband called them. She picked up a dainty, heart-shaped pillow from the settee and threw it furiously at his face. He ducked the harmless object easily, but eyed the heavy crystal paperweight on her escritoire with considerably more misgiving.

      
“Now, Leah, put that blame thing down. What will the servants think? You know how they gossip.” That was one plea that usually gave her pause.

      
“They already gossip—you and my slut of a sister have set enough tongues wagging from Carson City to Washington these past years!” Leah's face was pasty pale and blotched red by her temper. What had once been a smooth porcelain complexion was now prematurely wrinkled, with pockets of fat quivering beneath her eyes and chin.

      
Leah's delicate features had not withstood the years any better than had her voluptuous curves, now gone to pillowy fat. Her once tiny waist was now thickened after two pregnancies and a decade of eating rich foods. Her hair, once silver gilt, was faded and lank.
How could I ever have thought she was the more beautiful of the sisters?
Henry thought in disgust. Aloud, he repeated what he had been telling her to no avail for the past six or seven years. “Leah, you have no call to take on this way. Amos asked me to escort your sister and their boy to the train station since he couldn't get away from his meeting with the stock buyers at the Flying W.”

      
“Their boy! Ha! We all know whose boy the little bastard is. That's why Amos foists them off on you every chance he gets.” Her eyes slitted with jealous fury.

      
His blunt, handsome features grew harsh with anger. “I don't ever want you to repeat that—I don't care that you and Rebekah don't get on. She's the boss' wife, and you've got to live with it.” He turned and slammed out the front door.

      
Leah knew she had pushed too far. Seldom did Henry lose his temper. In fact, seldom did he pay her any attention. His usual manner of dealing with her was to let everything she said and did simply roll off his wide shoulders.

      
She had begun throwing temper tantrums to get his attention when she felt his interest in her waning. Not that she had ever enjoyed the intimacies of the marriage bed; but when she had been young and pretty, he had doted on her, taking her everywhere as his position in Amos Wells' empire grew in importance. Men fawned over her and women were envious. But that was before her looks faded.

      
Now, everything had changed. Rebekah, always the plain sister, had blossomed into a great beauty. Indeed, she seemed to grow more striking with the passage of every year, while Leah only grew grayer and fatter.

      
“It isn't fair. She sinned grievously and was rewarded with a rich husband, while I was virtuous; and now I'm losing my husband to her wiles. Just like she ensnared that vile Irishman and Amos and every other man she meets!”

      
Leah crumpled onto an upholstered armchair by the parlor window and sobbed as she watched Henry ride away, headed north to the Flying W.

      
She knew they were making plans to get Amos an appointment to the Department of the Interior now that the legislature had voted in another senator backed by that hateful Irishman. Even though her husband's fortunes were tied to those of Wells and his associates, a part of her could not help but rejoice that Amos' political star might be on the wane. If she had to be stuck in the Nevada backwater, let Rebekah be stuck here, too.
If only Amos didn't send Henry to squire her around so often,
a voice inside her head echoed fretfully.

* * * *

Carson City, September, 1878

      
Amos steered her down the curving fan of marble stairs in the Sheffield' mansion. “I want you to charm the senator, Rebekah. He has President Hayes' ear, and you know how much I want that cabinet appointment in Interior. It's our entrée back to Washington.”

      
A railroad builder of renown, the senior senator from Nevada was a political force to be reckoned with and everyone who was anyone in the state had received a command invitation to his annual birthday celebration. As they moved among the crowd, her husband smiled, laughed, pumped hands, and slapped backs, introducing her to dozens of influential men and their wives; but Rebekah's thoughts were far away as she greeted acquaintances perfunctorily.

      
Rory's note, which had arrived early that morning, was still etched in her memory:

Several years ago you sent me a message, warning me about Amos' threats against me. Now I'll return the favor. Your husband as well as you are in grave danger. Meet me in Sheffield's library during the presentation of the birthday cake.

Rory

      
Rory stood, partially hidden in the shadow of a wide pillar, looking down on the festivities from the second-story balcony that ringed the immense room. His eyes never left Rebekah' s golden beauty as she glided, nodding and smiling, from man to man on her husband's arm.
The timing has to be just right,
he mused.

      
“You should at least have the courtesy to pretend I exist, darling,” Thea Paisley said, using her long feathered fan to tease his jaw line as she leaned provocatively against him. “After all, I did travel all the way from Sacramento just to be with you tonight.”

      
He shoved the irritating feathers away as if brushing off an annoying gnat. “You traveled to Carson City because every rich, powerful man west of the Mississippi always attends Shanghai Sheffield's birthday parties. You wouldn't miss it for the world,” he replied lazily, still not deigning to look at her.