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Authors: Ann Jacobs

LoversFeud (16 page)

BOOK: LoversFeud
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“All right. I hope Deidre isn’t too upset.”

When Bye pulled the car into the garage, he noticed Doc Baines’ car parked beside Karen’s. “Oops. My guess is she’s hysterical, or Four wouldn’t have the doctor waiting for them.”

* * * * *

When Karen walked into her office the next morning, Jack was at his desk, going over copies of some old courthouse records. “You’re here early,” she commented as she poured herself some coffee and settled at her desk.

He looked up at her, his face a mass of bruises. “I see you don’t have your boyfriend trailing along. Word has it he and our old man were at your place yesterday, before you had your father hauled off to the nuthouse. Did you ever find Deidre?”

“She’s back home at the Bar C.” Karen didn’t think Jack needed to know everything that had gone on. “The guy who did in your face won’t be coming back to Caden. That ought to make you feel better.”

“I’d feel better if I could come up with some leverage to get what I’ve got coming to me from my very wealthy asshole of a father. All I’ve been able to find so far is some court records from years ago. Want to see what you may be getting yourself in for if you hook up with the Cadens?”

Karen did, but not at the moment. “Bye and I would like to look them over together. If you don’t feel like sharing, I can go through the court files and copy the same records you already have.”

“Hell, take it all, see if you can do some good with it.” Jack gathered the documents and handed them to Karen. “All I wanted to do was find something I could use to hurt my old man, but there’s nothing here that I can use.”

“What were you looking for?”

Jack met Karen’s gaze. “Anything I could use to ruin him.”

She glanced at the Harvard law degree on the wall behind his desk then turned back to him. “At least he financed a pretty pricey education for you.”

Jack shrugged. “Look at me as though you think I’m in the wrong if you must, but think about it. Byron Caden was willing to give me everything except his presence in my life, which I know means he cared, but in such a fucked-up way, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with that yet. Or how to deal with it.”

Karen laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” She took the papers he offered. “Is there anything in them about the feud between our families?”

“Nothing I can use, just records about a gunfight a hundred thirty years ago, and assorted minor charges the two family members have leveled at each other between then and six years ago, when your father did thirty days in the county jail for trespassing on the Bar C and shooting at one of my sainted father’s pedigreed bulls.” Jack shrugged. “You and Bye go through them to your hearts’ content. It seems my father has kept his nose clean all his life—at least when it comes to staying on the right side of the law. I can’t say the same about how the bastard has treated me and my mother.”

Honestly, Karen thought Four seemed to be a decent, reasonable man, from the little she’d seen of him. Yes, he was hard-nosed. Men didn’t wield the sort of power he did by being soft. Still, she didn’t like thinking Jack had it on his mind to bring his own father down. “Have you ever wanted for anything, Jack?”

“Yeah. I wanted a father. Do you know my mother kept telling me until she knew the old man’s wife was dying that my father had died before I was born and left her enough money so she didn’t have to work. By the time I was grown, I’d pretty well figured out that she was being kept by a rich, married guy. I just didn’t have a clue the bastard who was keeping her was my father.”

“Didn’t you know Byron Caden, if he came to visit your mother all the time?”

Jack shook his head. “Mother sent me to boarding school when I was seven years old, so I wasn’t around to meet him. I don’t remember him coming around before that.”

That must have made Jack feel terrible, but Karen knew the revelation after Mae Caden’s funeral had affected Bye and Deidre as much if not more. She looked up on the wall at Jack’s Harvard Law degree in its elaborate frame, figuring Four had paid for the Ivy League schooling that didn’t come cheap. “At least he supported you. That ought to count for something.”

“Not for enough. He dumped my mother after she finally got tired of us living a lie and told everyone the truth. The son of a bitch didn’t even have the balls to face her in person. Yesterday she got an overnight FedEx letter from the old man. It contained the deed to the house that he’d bought for her, the title to the car he’d given her for her last birthday—and trust fund paperwork. The irrevocable trust should provide her a decent monthly income, but she can’t touch the principal, which will pass to me on her death.” Jack scowled. “Establishing that trust didn’t put a dent in the assets Byron Caden owns—not even counting the Bar C, which he assured Mother in a letter will go in its entirety to his
legitimate
son.”

Sympathetic to Jack’s feelings, Karen shook her head. “That may not seem fair, but face it. Four could have dumped your mother and left you both with nothing.”

“I know. I won’t be satisfied, though, until I get one up on him. I intend to take a piece of the property my mother says he wants so badly.”

“What property?” Surely Jack didn’t mean his father wanted the Rocking O.

He hesitated then handed her a legal pad. “A place called the Laughing Wolfe Ranch. Do you know who owns it?”

“Mavis Wolfe and her daughter Liz. Mrs. Wolfe has been widowed ever since I can remember. Liz and I went to school together. She was in Bye’s class—two years ahead of me. The Laughing Wolfe is pretty near as big as the Bar C. They raise wheat and cattle, but I’m pretty sure there’s oil on the property as well. There is on most of the ranches around here.”

“How old is Mrs. Wolfe?” Jack asked, his curiosity apparently engaged.

“Pretty near old enough to be your mother, I imagine. She’s very religious and very straitlaced.” Surely Jack wasn’t thinking of going after her. “I doubt either she or Liz would take to your BDSM lifestyle. Liz is a quiet, timid sort of girl, or at least she used to be when we were kids.”

Jack steepled his fingers in front of him. “We’ll see. I bet you my dear daddy will be sniffing after the old girl. Maybe I’ll give him a run for his money by going after her daughter. Sometimes the quiet ones surprise you.”

“Good luck.” Karen hated to hear Jack so bitter, but she guessed he was entitled. She couldn’t believe he’d actually go after a woman simply to spite Four—it had to be his hurt coming to the surface. “Why don’t you go find Bye and have a couple beers together? Believe it or not, I think he’s wrestling with some of the same feelings you seem to have toward your father. You know, you’re both good men. You’ve each gained brothers, not just friends.”

When the phone rang, Karen answered it. With her ten o’clock appointment canceled, she picked up the papers Jack had given her and put them in her briefcase. “My only client for today just begged off, so I’m going to leave you to your scheming. I truly don’t think Liz Wolfe would go for the type of play you enjoy, but feel free to discover that for yourself. By the way, I really think you ought to make peace with Bye. You have no beef with him. He even kept you from ending up in the hospital when Deidre’s two bodyguards decided to tear you apart.”

“Yeah. I guess I should be grateful for that, but I don’t believe his coming to my defense meant he wants us to be pals. He probably just didn’t want to watch old Roy have a stroke trying to break up the fight.” Jack shrugged. “Maybe someday we can be friends again, but I’m not counting on it.”

* * * * *

“Karen’s client canceled her appointment, so she’s on the way here now. If you don’t need me here this afternoon, I think I’ll take her over to the old homestead. There may be something there—an old diary or something—that may give us a better picture about this feud.”

“Go ahead, son. There’s nothing we can do right now to help your sister. Doc Baines says she’ll sleep the day away from the shot he gave her. Your mother, God rest her soul, sheltered Deidre way too much. She ought to have taught our girl not to be so damn trusting—but then I guess I tried to wrap them both in my protection, so I’m just as much to blame as Mae.”

Bye had never heard Four admit to blame for anything before, so he hardly knew what to say. “Don’t blame yourself, Dad. Deidre knew better than to run off with one of the hired hands. She never gave us the idea she needed to be watched 24/7.”

“Well, we’re watching her now.” Four got up from his desk, walked over to the wall safe and fiddled with the combination. “I may have something in here that will help you and Karen. A few years ago, the last assistant foreman to live in that house brought over what looks like a very old diary or notebook. He said his wife had found it under a loose floorboard in the loft bedroom where their kids used to sleep.” Four reached around in the safe, behind Mom’s jewelry, and came out with a padded diary or journal that had a tiny lock. “It definitely looks old enough to have belonged to one of the original Cadens. A wife or daughter, probably.”

Bye took the fragile-looking book from his dad. “Yeah. I can’t imagine a man keeping a diary, especially in a journal with faded yellow roses on the cover. You don’t have any really old documents in that safe that might have some useful information on them, do you?”

“No. While Mae was sick, I went through all the legal papers that have been handed down over the years and catalogued them consecutively. There’s nothing in them except land descriptions, deeds, easements granted, leases and so on. Where you might find some information, at least about events that may have caught the attention of the law around here, is in the county courthouse. I can fill you in on incidents that have happened in my lifetime, but I can’t be much help when it comes to things that happened before that. I hope you and Karen manage to put the thing together. It makes sense that the mysteries about how this feud started and kept on getting fueled need to be unraveled so we all can put it in the past and get on with our lives. Slade’s psychologist probably hit on something important when she talked with Karen yesterday.”

“I hope so. As bad as I want Karen, I don’t want to be with her and have her father coming after me or her with a gun. Or you, for that matter.” Theoretically, Slade wouldn’t be released from the rehabilitation facility unless he was not only dried out but cleared psychologically—but Bye wasn’t at all sure the man wouldn’t find a way to escape. “I hope you don’t mind if I break the lock on this diary.”

Four handed over a heavy stainless-steel letter opener. “Go ahead. This ought to work. The hasp on the lock is rusty—it shouldn’t take much pressure to pop it open.”

The hasp split apart with very gentle pressure. Bye carefully opened the tattered, padded cover and looked at the first page. “This belonged to somebody named Bertha Caden.”

“I think she may have been the first Byron’s wife. Why don’t you wait for Karen and you two can read it together? I need to go upstairs and talk with Doc Baines about Deidre. She may need a shrink or something. I’m worried about her.”

“Yeah, me too. I think I’ll go outside in Mom’s flower garden and wait for Karen. When she gets here we’ll go on over to the old homestead and look around.”
Or the line shack.
Somehow that seemed an appropriate place for them to tie the past to the present, and hopefully to their future.

* * * * *

“Oh, Bye. Bertha’s diary starts out in December 1882. Did you realize she was married to Luke first? She apparently started this diary the day after they got married.” Karen turned a brittle page very carefully and strained to read the fine, spidery script. “Here’s what she says about him, the day he died.”

He bent over her shoulder and strained to make out words written in faded brown ink.

 

March 10, 1883

Luke is dead, may the devil take him. If he hadn’t been so greedy and wanted my papa’s ranch, he would have married poor Tessa Oakley, even if all the Oakleys own is the Rocking O her daddy won in a card game. Maybe she and their baby wouldn’t have died if Luke had done the right thing, and he might still be alive. If Luke hadn’t thought so highly of his skill with his pearl-handled Colt revolver, he might not have drawn on Tessa’s father and ended up shot dead. That’s what my husband deserved for going up against a professional gunfighter.

March 13, 1883

Big doings in town today. The marshal had Cassius Oakley strung up ready for a hanging, but he slipped the noose and got away. They say he’s headed for the Badlands. Everyone wonders if Slade Oakley will be able to handle the Rocking O all by himself and with no money to speak of. The place is only five thousand acres or so, but the boy can’t be much more than fifteen years old.

 

“Jesus.” Bye didn’t think he’d have liked Luke Caden any more than his widow apparently had. He’d never heard before that Luke had provoked the gunfight that had resulted in his death. “This doesn’t make me very proud of my ancestor. It’s amazing that such a youngster managed somehow to hold on to what his father left him.”

Karen wiped at her eyes. “This sort of helps me understand why the Rocking O has never amounted to much.”

“Yeah. It’s a wonder the boy was able to hold on to it and keep the place intact so he could leave it to your father. Turn the page. I want to find out what else Bertha had to say.”

“All right.” Gingerly, she lifted the brittle, yellowed paper. “There’s about a month’s gap before the next entry.”

 

April 10, 1883

It may be wicked, but it wasn’t as though Luke and I were really married. Yes, we slept together as husband and wife, but there was no love between us. He could barely stand to touch me. Byron has asked me to marry him, and I’ve said I will as soon as common decency allows. He tells me he has feelings for me. I want to believe he’s not doing this to please his papa and make sure my land stays a part of the Bar C.

 

There was more writing on that page, but it was too faded for them to read. Another time lapse came between pages, almost as though Bertha hadn’t had anything worth recording. Maybe, Bye thought, she’d been too busy. Ranching back then had to have been backbreaking work.

BOOK: LoversFeud
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