Nora (23 page)

She stirred again, and her eyes opened slowly. They met his and she went scarlet.

“You should blush,” he said in a stern tone. Then he smiled wickedly. “My God!”

Her hand grabbed for the sheet and dragged it up to her chin. Over it, her horrified wide blue eyes met his.

“You did it!” she accused. “You got me drunk and seduced me! It wasn't my fault!”

“I didn't really mean to, you know,” he defended himself weakly. “But all that champagne…”

She clutched the sheet tighter. “I shall follow that woman's footsteps and take an ax to the saloon today without fail,” she assured him. “Now that I have truly experienced the evils of drink.”

He quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “Did you say ‘evils'? You didn't seem to think so last night,” he pointed out.

She went absolutely scarlet and her eyes fell. “I have never had more than a
small
glass of wine in my life until last night,” she began in self-defense.

“Oh, I have no quarrel with your behavior, Nora. In fact, it tempts me to send out for several cases of champagne,” he mused as he watched her.

“You roué!” she gasped.

He tugged the sheet out of her hands and rolled her into his arms. “Admittedly,” he murmured as he eased her down on the bed and his mouth found hers. In no time at all, her weak struggles ceased and she clung to his strength.

He lifted his head and searched her soft eyes. “I tried to spare you the hardship of another pregnancy,” he began.

She put her fingers over his mouth. “I am strong now,” she assured him, her eyes bright and happy. “And I would very much like to…feel again the way you made me feel in the darkness of the night,” she whispered.

“So would I,” he said hungrily. He threw off the sheet and bent again to her mouth. “If a child comes of it, God knows, I shall not mind,” he whispered ardently. And then he said nothing more for a long, long time.

 

T
HE WELL WAS CAPPED
without Pike, who had apparently vanished into thin air. Cal, sensing trouble, went to see the local constable in Beaumont and explained the situation. The other officers were alerted to watch
out for the man, but he did not appear. On a hunch, Cal went to the office of the new lawyer in town who had been friendly with Pike, but the office was closed, and no definite time stated for the return of its occupant.

“I can't find Pike,” Cal told Nora when he returned to the cabin later. He scowled. “I don't like the look of things. He was good at his job and came highly recommended. Now I feel much less confident about him.” He stared at her across the table. They were eating a light supper. “You never liked him. I should have trusted your instincts.”

“I'm not so trustworthy,” she said with a smile. “I didn't like you at first.”

His eyes softened on her pretty face. “I found you enchanting,” he said. “Pretty and spirited, and very much on your dignity. After a while, I could think of nothing except you.”

She reached out and traced her fingers over the back of his hand. “You're not sorry that you were forced into marriage?” she asked.

His hand turned and captured hers. “I love you,” he said gently, and his eyes looked straight into hers. “Of course I'm not sorry.”

She flushed. It felt as if a bolt of lightning had entered her body. “What did you say?”

“That I love you,” he replied simply. He lifted her palm to his lips and kissed it hungrily. “How can you not know, after what we shared in our room the night of the celebration?”

“I know so little of men,” she admitted.

“Then let me reassure you that it is not quite a normal occurrence for a woman to faint and a man to sob like a child in the throes of ecstasy. Our experience was somewhat out of the ordinary.”

“I…thought so, but I had no way of knowing. Even in the past, when we were together, I had not felt quite so…so…complete,” she said finally.

He sighed, watching her lovingly. “And you, Nora?” he asked. “Is there some small part of you that still loves me, even after the pain I gave you?”

She looked shocked, and for a minute, he held his breath, waiting for her to speak. “Why, I have never stopped loving you,” she faltered. “I never shall.”

He held her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes in a surge of overwhelming joy. “Thank God,” he whispered.

“You silly man,” she laughed gently. “As if love can wear out on a man's bad temper! As much as you growl when you are working, mine should have fled for the hills months ago!”

“I'm so glad that it didn't,” he whispered. “Come here, darling.”

She got up, and he pulled her down onto his lap, kissing her until her head swam and his body made emphatic statements about its immediate needs.

“Yes,” she murmured against his mouth, and curled closer.

He stood up, with Nora in his arms, dazed enough to start toward the bed even though it was still light.

The sound of footsteps on the porch halted him. His
head lifted toward the door and he stood there with his burden, disoriented.

The knock was hard. “Mr. Barton? There's a man out here with some sort of legal paper. He wants to talk to you!”

“I'll be right out!” Cal called back.

He eased Nora onto her feet and they exchanged worried glances.

“I bet this has something to do with Pike,” he said through his teeth.

He opened the door and stepped onto the porch, with a flushed Nora at his side.

The sheriff stood there, his badge bright against his suit coat, a folded paper in one hand. “Mr. Barton?” he asked, pausing just long enough to sweep off his hat and nod respectfully at Nora.

“Yes,” Cal confirmed.

“I'm Sheriff Culpepper.” They shook hands. “I have to serve you with this paper. It's an enjoinment against your oil well there and prevents you from making any legal decisions until ownership of it is established in court.”

“I have no need to look at the signature to decide whose handiwork this is,” Cal said heavily. “Pike.”

“Mr. Pike and his attorney, Mr. Bean, met with the judge this morning to have the paper drawn up,” Sheriff Culpepper said. “Now, most of us in town know that you were the boss of the outfit and Pike was just an employee. But that lawyer has a way with words, and he's about the nearest thing to a silver-tongued
orator that anybody in these parts has ever seen. You want some advice, Mr. Barton? Get yourself the most expensive city lawyer you can afford. You're going to need him. Good day, ma'am,” he added to Nora.

They watched him go out to his horse, mount it and ride away.

“Damn Pike!” Cal said angrily.

She took the paper from him and read it over. “Cal, what shall we do? With the well enjoined, we have no money, have we?”

He glanced down at her and smiled gently. “Don't worry. I won't let you starve.”

“It isn't that, not at all, and you know it,” she said firmly. Her brow furrowed. “If I were to apologize to my father,” she added tightly, “perhaps he would be willing to send his own attorney out here—”

“You are not apologizing,” he said quietly. “Not ever. You did nothing to apologize for.”

“But what shall we do?” she asked miserably. “We cannot just let Pike come in and take our oil well!”

He ran a gentle hand over her chestnut hair, loving its silkiness. It distracted him. “We are not totally without options,” he said.

Mick came running up with the men as the sheriff went out of sight. “What is it?” Mick asked. “It's an injunction, isn't it?” he demanded, reddening. “That Pike fellow! I saw him meeting with that city lawyer several times and would have mentioned it, but I figured it was your own business he was conducting, so I kept my mouth shut. More fool, me!”

Cal grinned at him. “Not your fault, Mick. And don't look as if the world has ended. We haven't even fired the first salvo yet!”

“That lawyer is smart. He's from Chicago, you know,” he said. “I heard talk of him in town. They say he has no peer in a court of law.”

“Oh, I think he may have one or two,” Cal replied. There was a twinkle in his eyes that escaped description. Nora wondered what it meant, but he clammed up and said no more about it just then.

The next morning he went to town and sent a wire through the local Western Union office to Latigo.

C
AL TOOK
N
ORA INTO TOWN
two days later to meet the train. He asked her to dress nicely, in one of her neat blue suits with a lacy blouse and her Paris hat. He didn't tell her why, and all her urgings wouldn't produce one single statement as to what his plans were. He was the most secretive and exasperating man she had ever known. She told him so, frequently, to no effect.

Three men got off the train, to be warmly greeted by Cal. He tugged Nora up to meet them, his eyes beaming with pride as he introduced her.

The eldest had dark eyes and silver hair. Brant Culhane shook her hand warmly and he expressed his regrets that his wife, Enid, hadn't been able to make the trip with him. Perhaps Cal would bring Nora to meet her, he added with a pointed look at his son.

The oldest son looked so much like Cal that Nora was taken aback.

“Why, you look just like Cal!” she exclaimed when they shook hands.

He shook his head. “He looks like
me,
” he corrected, and his silver-gray eyes, lighter than Cal's, danced as they met his brother's.

“We used to play king of the mountain as boys,” Cal drawled. “He usually won. That's how he got the nickname. King,” he added when she looked puzzled.

“Why, you named your horse—” she began.

“And this is Alan,” he interrupted her, although King had already caught on and was chuckling silently.

Alan stepped forward and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it with exquisite courtesy. “It is a pleasure to meet my lovely sister-in-law at last,” he said, with a glare at Cal. “One would have thought that the introductions would take place before the wedding, wouldn't one?”

Nora recalled why Cal hadn't wanted her to meet his family, and she looked wounded.

He pulled her close. “It's a long story,” he told the others. “I'll tell you all about it when I get the chance. Right now, my plate is full.”

“Not for long.” Brant turned and motioned to two well-dressed, dignified men carrying valises. “Mr. Brooks and Mr. Dunn,” he introduced. “They're from New York. They handle all our family business,” he added when Nora looked puzzled.

Cal shook hands with them. Mr. Brooks was short and dark and had an intelligent face. Mr. Dunn was a startling contrast; he was tall and elegant-looking, with
pale blue eyes and wavy dark hair. When he looked at Nora, she felt a chill right down to her toes. He was polite enough as he tipped his hat, but he had a look that she hoped never to have to sustain across a courtroom. She'd never seen a man who looked less like an attorney, and when he spoke, his cultured voice had a few lingering traces of a Texas drawl.

Watching the men talk as she stood on the sidelines, Nora began to feel undercurrents. What family business? Why would Cal's father need a firm of New York attorneys? For the first time, she noticed the way his father and brother were dressed, and it dawned on her that they were no rustic hayseeds. These were powerful, wealthy men. Was Cal some sort of black sheep, was he an outcast, forced to work for wages on a ranch? She must get the truth out of him. There had been one too many secrets between them already.

“There's an excellent hotel in town,” Cal was telling the men. “And it serves meals that rival Mother's.”

“Nobody cooks like your mother,” Brant said with a wistful smile.

“Nora's on her way to such proficiency in the kitchen,” Cal remarked as he drew his wife close against his side.

She smiled at the other men. “What he means is that my biscuits no longer bounce when they're dropped,” she said.

They laughed, but without malice. “When you meet Enid, get her to tell you about the first turkey she prepared for me when we were newly married,”
Brant suggested to Nora. “It'll make you feel less self-conscious about your early days in the kitchen.”

Nora smiled. “That would be nice,” she said, but inside she was wondering and worrying if Cal still was ashamed of her. He wanted her and he professed to love her, but there was still the fact that he had never suggested taking her home to his family—especially to meet his mother. It was the one thing that kept her happiness with him from being complete.

There were meetings with his family and the lawyers for the rest of the week. The court case was set for the following Monday, and Cal spent most of the weekend at the hotel. Nora cooked meals that were ignored or forgotten. She felt neglected herself, although she knew it was for the sake of their future. She couldn't help but wonder if it was all business, or if Cal was keeping her away from his family for some reason of his own.

 

A
CTUALLY, HE WAS
. He didn't want them to let anything slip about his life before he met her. He still had that obstacle to clear once the threat of Pike was out of the way.

“She's very pretty,” Brant remarked over a drink in the saloon. “And obviously she adores you.”

“And vice versa,” King murmured with twinkling eyes. “Caught at last, aren't you, old son?”

“Caught and tied,” Cal agreed. He fingered his whiskey absently. “She doesn't know anything about us. I didn't want to tell her at first. Now I do, but I can't
decide how. She's going to hate me when she knows all of it. If I'd taken her home in the first place, instead of dumping her into a cabin at the Tremayne ranch without even a decent stove…” He groaned and threw down the rest of his whiskey. “If I'd been halfway human about it, she'd never have lost the baby or so nearly have died from fever.”

“We've both seen fever before,” King reminded him. “It's treatable. As long as she isn't overtired, she shouldn't have too many bouts of it.”

“I've looked after her this time,” Cal replied. “She's been remarkably healthy since we've been in Beaumont.” He smiled, thinking of that long, exquisite night they'd spent together and those that had followed. He was still concerned about a child so soon after her illness, but she wasn't. In fact, she was knitting little bootees now, in anticipation of a child that would surely eventuate from the fullness of their inexhaustible passion for each other.

“You have to tell her,” King said. “It isn't fair to let her go on believing that you're a poor cowboy or a penniless oil prospector.”

“I might have been,” he pointed out. “I still may. Brooks and Dunn may not be able to stand up to this man of Pike's in court.”

“My boy,” Brant said gently, “you have not seen Dunn before the bar yet. Reserve judgment until you do.”

“Brooks is the research man,” King explained. “He
does the legwork. But Dunn…” He paused to smile secretively. “Well, wait and see.”

Cal was unconvinced. Dunn looked formidable, of course, but there was more than looks involved in winning a trial. He brooded about the court case, cursed Pike for all he was worth, cursed himself for being so stupid as to leave the man to his own devices.

King walked with him back to the hotel. The night was quiet except for the noise of a hurdy-gurdy coming from a saloon nearby. Even that was a pleasant sound in the darkness, broken only by voices and the sound of horses' hooves as buggies passed by.

“We shouldn't have asked you to take that job with Tremayne,” King said abruptly. “If you'd been here, on the spot, maybe Pike wouldn't have gotten so greedy.”

Cal shook his head. “If I hadn't taken the job, I'd never have met Nora. She was worth losing the damned thing, if it comes down to it. I have no regrets.”

“When are you going to tell her the truth?” he asked.

Cal stuck his hands deep in his pockets. “When I can't avoid it for one minute longer,” he said doggedly.

King grinned. “You sound just like me.”

Cal glanced at his brother. “I am just like you,” he reminded the older man. “That's why it's just as well that you're inheriting Latigo, and I have an oil business to build here in East Texas. We'd end up squaring off in the corral twice a day over nothing.”

King chuckled. “Probably,” he had to admit. “All the same, you're the only man I know that I can bare my soul to.”

“That might flatter me if I didn't know that you think of it as talking to yourself.”

“You're that much like me,” King admitted, “that it's the same thing.” He stopped in front of the hotel, his face solemn. “What will you do if things go against you Monday?”

He shrugged. “I'll probably shoot Pike.”

“That's what I thought. Listen, Latigo is big enough for all of us. There's no need—”

Cal clapped his brother affectionately on the shoulder. “I was joking,” he said roughly. “For God's sake, I wouldn't leave Nora in the lurch by getting myself thrown in jail! And I'm not giving up. Pike's the one who should worry, if Brooks and Dunn are as good as you say.”

“You haven't had any need of them over the years. We have,” King said quietly. “You'll see what I mean.”

Cal sighed. “I hope so.”

 

H
E DIDN'T TELL
N
ORA
how worried he really was. It would mean starting over, borrowing more capital, and taking another huge gamble if Pike walked off with his oil well. He didn't know exactly what Pike was planning to do, and everything depended on documentation and the proficiency of the family attorneys. He tried to remember every step he'd taken since he'd bought
the property and leased the mineral rights on land that adjoined it. But despite his best efforts to comb through the paperwork, he couldn't find a loophole that Pike could use to take over the site. On the other hand, Pike might have an attorney dishonest enough to make one that would stand up in court.

He wouldn't really shoot the man, but it was tempting. Pike would have gotten a share, just as all the men who worked on the well were going to. Cal had decided that from the outset. But Pike was greedy. He wanted it all. Now, if Cal had his way, Pike was going to end up with nothing at all, not one drop of the crude oil that had poured out of that well.

There was a rumor that one of J. D. Rockefeller's people had stopped by to ask questions about the new strike that Cal and his people had made. The man hadn't yet approached him, but that would be the next step. In order for the oil to mean any profit, it would have to be piped out and stored and refined. Cal needed someone to perform that chore for him. But he couldn't make one legal move until the ownership of the well was assigned.

Monday morning came, and Nora sat stiffly in the courtroom with Brant and King and Alan. She was dressed in a very becoming dark brown suit with white piping and a matching hat with a pretty bird perched jauntily on the crown. She watched the proceedings with worried eyes, glancing from the attorney, Dunn, to her own Cal sitting so quietly beside him at the
defense table. The men beside her didn't seem to be worried at all. King, in fact, was smiling.

The judge spoke to both attorneys before the case began, and Nora noticed that he seemed to know Dunn. He was much more respectful to him than he was to Bean, Pike's attorney.

Pike was in court. He wouldn't look at the other side of the courtroom, although his beady little eyes kept darting around restlessly.

His attorney was good; very good. He stated the distorted facts of the case, twisted to make his client's case look stronger. Pike had filed a prior claim on the oil well site, he told the court, and he had the documents to prove it. Cal, already aware of the attempt Pike was going to make because of Brooks's legwork, glared furiously at the averted face of Pike. It amazed him that the man was willing to tell an out-and-out lie in court and perjure himself for the sake of money. He wondered if Pike's attorney knew it was a lie, and that any documents he produced would have to be forged.

Pike's attorney presented those documents, along with eyewitness accounts of Cal's long absences from the drill site and the hard work Pike had done to bring in the well. When he was finished, it looked as though Pike had done all the work, and Cal had done nothing and was now trying to jump Pike's claim.

Pike's attorney, Mr. Bean, sat down with a reassuring smile in his client's direction.

Then Mr. Dunn got to his feet. He was a tall, slender
figure as he moved lazily around the courtroom, looking at the jury with eyes the pure pale blue of a winter sky. He wore glasses, but they only emphasized the strong lines of his face. He held a sheaf of papers in one hand as he approached the bench.

“Mr. Bean's arguments are quite interesting,” he remarked absently. “He states that his client did most of the work bringing in the well and thus deserves the bulk of the profit from it. This assertion is ridiculous, so I will not dignify the claim by arguing it.” He placed a sheaf of documents at the judge's fingertips. “However, the prosecution's claim that his client has a prior claim on—” he gave the lot number and location of Cal's oil well “—is invalid. These are the titles and deeds to the land, which is owned by my client,” he said. “They have been duly notarized and their accuracy can be vouched for by witnesses which the defense is prepared to introduce.”

He picked up the prosecution's evidence, a sheaf of documents with dates one day prior to Cal's filing on the claim.

“Now, to the matter of Mr. Pike's alleged prior claim.” He looked at Pike with a faint smile that was chilling. “According to information provided by Mr. Pike's former landlady in New Orleans, along with affidavits from the owner of a saloon called ‘The Gator' and an, ahem, employee known as ‘Rose Lee' as well as the local constable, all of whom witnessed the incident, on the date of the aforesaid documents, Mr. Pike was as drunk as a skunk and sleeping off his excesses
in an upstairs bedroom of the saloon. It would have been physically impossible for him to sign a deed on the date in question.” He looked straight at Pike, who was jumping up to protest, while his attorney tried to restrain him.