Texas rich (36 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

Tags: #Coleman family (Fictitious characters), #Family

BOOK: Texas rich
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"I know. Even little Maggie doesn't count for anything."

"How well I know. And I suppose he had quite a lot to say about my coming home with Rand." Billie's embarrassed flush told Amelia all she needed to know. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"No. I suppose I'm feeling guilty because I really don't want to go through another pregnancy—not now, anyway. Also, as the doctor said, I could lose this baby without doing anything at all. It's risky." Bi^lie's anguish was evident. "If anything should ever happen to Moss and I had gone through with the abortion, I'd never forgive myself. I don't know what to do."

This time Amelia comforted Billie. She wrapped her arms around her. "You'll do what you have to do, Billie. You'll think it out and come to a decision and it'll be your decision. I'll be here for you, but I promise I won't try to sway you one way or the other."

Seth's angry voice suddenly filled the room. "You gals having a sorority meeting in my study? And helping yourselves to my best bourbon, I see. You've got a whole house to yourselves—this room is off limits!"

"Hello, Pap, it's nice to know you're glad to see me. Still your lovable old self, I see. It's delightful to be welcomed back to home and hearth."

"Don't you go getting snotty with me, daughter. You don't have your mother around to cover for you anymore," he growled.

{241}

"Pour me one of those. Just how long do you intend to stay?"

"As long as I have to, Pap," Amelia said, Hfting the bourbon bottle. "Three fingers or four?"

"Three, for starters. Christ, you look like something the cat dragged in. Don't tell me that's the latest style in London."

"Oh, you mean my clothes. No, they're not the latest style, but then widow's weeds were made for utility, not fashion."

Seth took a drink, walked around to the chair behind his desk, and sat down heavily. "That fool pilot you married bought it, did he? How's he Usted? Killed in action or only missing?"

"Killed. His wingman saw him go down. It was over France."

"I hope he left you well off. The day you married that limey my responsibility to you was over. Jess left you a tidy sum. If you ever get your hands on it, that is."

"I didn't come home for what Mam left me and you know it, Pap. Any lawyer can make sure I get what's coming to me."

"Only God himself can see you get what's coming to you, Amelia. I can't say I'm glad you've come back, because I'm not and I won't be a hypocrite. I can feel my stomach going sour already. What'd you do with that stepson of yours? Left him where he belongs, I hope."

"Rand is upstairs in my room taking a nap. Which reminds me, I should go up and look in on him.

"Poor little tyke, he's really done in," she said to Billie, who was watching this confrontation with amazement.

"Amelia!" Seth called just as she was about to step through the door. "It's just as well your husband was killed. He spared you the humiliation of having him walk out on you!"

For an instant BiUie thought Amelia would crumple to the floor and fragment into a thousand pieces. But she caught at the door frame and steadied herself. "You should know, Pap. Didn't Mother do you the same favor?" And then she was gone, leaving Billie to stare in shock, her heart thumping madly in her breast. When she again dared to glance at Seth, she found him smiling and unruffled. He took a sip of his drink.

"What are you looking at, little gal? I can see you're shocked by this little scene you just witnessed. You shouldn't be. You knew there was no love lost between Amelia and me. Now that Jess is gone, so's the pretense. We don't even have to be nice to each other for her sake.

"Which reminds me, little gal, I can't help wondering what Amelia's limey was thinking about when he let himself get shot down. Problems at home? Responsibilities? Bad news?

{242}

I'm warning you, if anything happens to my boy because you sent word of Jessica's death, you'll be the sorriest person alive. You'll think what you just saw between my daughter and me was a family picnic. Understand? I don't cotton to being crossed. I don't care who it is. And you, little gal, would be nobody if anything happened to Moss."

{{{({({{( CHAPTER SIXTEEN )}}}t}f}t

Agnes, taking her cue from Seth, practically ignored Amelia's presence, but Billie could see that her mother was impressed with the Nelson family title. "If your husband was a lord, doesn't that make you a lady?" Agnes asked innocently.

"Ask my father, Mrs. Ames; he'll tell you he doubts anything in this world could make me a lady."

Agnes pretended not to hear her and looked at young Rand just as he dropped a forkful of peas onto his lap. "Really, Amelia, must that child eat at the table with us? He's far too young to have proper manners."

"When Maggie is three years old I intend to bring her to the table for informal family dinners," Billie said. "Really, Mother, one would think we never lived in Philadelphia and ate at the kitchen table every night, except for Sundays if we had company. Would you really like to consign Rand to eating dinner every night with old sourpuss Jenkins?"

"Supper!" Seth corrected. "Here in Texas, dinner is served at noon and anytime you eat after that it's supper."

"Well, supper, then. Besides, the way people carry on here Rand is a welcome relief at the table."

"None of my doing," Seth protested. "Look here, gal, you're not picking up that tone of voice from Amelia, are you? Moss wouldn't like it. I can tell you that. My boy never liked an ox in a ditch."

At Billie's questioning glance, Amelia explained. "That's Texan for trouble, Billie."

Agnes fidgeted with her rope of pearls. She wished Amelia

{243}

would go back to England, and quickly. She didn't like having

Seth so upset and omery all the time. It made him difficult and, worse, suspicious of everyone and everything. She had to watch her attitude toward his daughter. To be too friendly and accepting would turn Seth against her, but to be too indifferent might arouse his family loyalty. She wished she knew when Billie was going to announce her pregnancy. What was she waiting for? Did she want to tell Moss first and wait for his response?

"Billie, dear," asked Agnes, "could you give me Dr. Ward's phone number? I thought I'd make an appointment with him."

"It's in the phone book beside the phone, Mother," Billie answered, pushing food around on her plate. Instinctively, she knew it wasn't the response Agnes wanted.

"Yes, of course, how silly of me."

"Something wrong with you, Aggie?" Seth looked concerned.

"No, it's nothing. I just thought I'd have a checkup. Have you seen Dr. Ward lately, Billie? Isn't it time? Maggie is nearly six months old now and I know Dr. Ward takes a special interest in you."

"'Specially since the Colemans built him that fancy new wing at the hospital," Seth interjected.

"Yes, Seth, especially. Well, have you, BiUie?" Agnes waited, watching her daughter, watching for the lie, praying for the truth.

"As a matter of fact, I have seen him. Everything is fine."

Agnes's hands nervously played with her pearls. Not a lie, but not the truth, either.

"Billie, I'm going into town tomorrow afternoon. Care to come with me?" AmeUa stepped in. Agnes was like a vulture about to pick bones. The woman had taken Jessica's place, running the house at Sunbridge as though it were her own, as thought it were her right.

"Yes, I'd like that.-I haven't been in since you came. We could go shopping. Will we take Rand with us?"

"No, not this time. I'll leave him with Miss Jenkins."

At the sound of the nurse's name. Rand dropped his fork onto his plate and roared.

"That's Rand's interpretation of Miss Jenkins—a real dragon," said Billie. "Right, Rand?"

"Sourpuss!" Rand said and laughed, tossing his bright blond head.

{244}

"You'll stay with Miss Jenkins when Aunt Billie and I go into town, won't you? That's a good boy. Mum'll bring you something nice."

Rand nodded his head. "Maggie, too. Maggie cries a lot, Mum. Bring Maggie a present."

Amelia and Billie laughed, but Agnes shook her head in disapproval. "That's hardly teaching the child proper manners. Sourpuss indeed! That's quite disrespectful. You should be careftil, Billie, that it doesn't rub off on Maggie."

"Oh, Rand gets on with Miss Jenkins well enough, Mrs. Ames. It's just that he calls them the way he sees them. Even Pap would approve of that!" Amelia leaned over and kissed Rand's cheek, her sleek dark hair in dramatic contrast with his towhead curis. "Drink your milk, Rand darling, then Aunt Billie and I will take you upstairs so we can decide what we're going to do tomorrow and what kind of nice present we can bring for you and Maggie."

Upstairs in Billie's room, Amelia reclined on the chaise longue and sipped coffee from the cup she'd brought up. Rand was occupied in the nursery with Maggie. "I was serious about going into Austin tomorrow, Billie. I hope you will come with me."

"Love to. They should be showing some of the new fall clothes now and I thought I'd like to shop for some wools. It's been so long since I've sat at a sewing machine and I find I miss it. Your mother always told me I was welcome to use hers."

"I'm not going in to shop, Billie," Amelia said ominously. The gaze she directed at Billie was unflinchingly severe. "I've made contact with a few people I used to know and the arrangements have all been made for the abortion. We'll have Carlos take us into Austin and from there we'll use a taxi. My mind's made up and I'm going through with it. It's the only answer, for me and for Rand."

"Amelia, surely there are other considerations, other solutions "

"No, there are not! I received a cable from New York this afternoon. From a lawyer hired by Geoff's brothers. They're threatening legal action because I took Rand out of England."

"But he's your son! You have a right to take him anywhere you want!"

"Yes, he's my son in my heart, but the adoption hadn't gone through before Geoff was killed. I'm going to have a

{245}

fight on my hands. I'd already contacted a lawyer in London. His best advice was to stay here at Sunbridge, or at least in Texas, for as long as I can. With the war in Europe and bad communication between here and there, it's the only way to delay action. I can't lose him, Billie, I just can't! I love him so much. Every time I look at him I see Geoff. And I promised, I swore before God and Geoff that I would always be here for Rand and I won't go back on that now.

"Geoff hadn't had the happiest of childhoods, despite the advantages of wealth and title." She laughed. "Geoff said I was Rand's hope of growing up happy and normal. Me! Amelia 'Never Does Anything Right' Coleman Nelson, a young boy's salvation. I'd sacrifice anything, Billie, to live up to the promise I made to Geoff. Please, help me."

The soft light from the lamp cast half of Amelia's face into shadow. Her shining cap of dark hair was sleekly molded to her head and knotted at the nape of her neck. The style lent her a severity that made her plea all the more poignant. Billie didn't want to help. It was contradictory to all her beliefs, and yet she herself was being forced to face the issue.

"You're backing off from me, Billie. I can see your principles are offended. Forget I asked. Forget I even told you anything about it. No hard feelings, just look after Rand while I'm gone tomorrow."

"Where are you going? Who's the doctor?"

Amelia's laughter was almost a shriek. "Billie, surely you can't be serious. Abortion is illegal, or did you forget? No doctor—no good doctor, anyway—would touch me. This is a connection I made through some not very respectable friends I used to have. Only clinical abortions, like the one Dr. Ward wants you to have, are performed in sterile hospitals."

Visions darker than creeping black cats walked through Bil-iie's imagination. Stories of back alleys and butcher knives and knitting needles, stories whispered in the back of the girls' gym at school. "Amelia! You can't. It isn't safe!"

"I can and I will. Just you watch me." Her hand went to her middle, patting her stomach. "You know what's in here, Billie? A dream. That's all it is, a dream. But it's not for me and I want to forget it before it becomes a nightmare. Do you know how frightened I am? I'm scared to death of letting Geoff down. I've never done anything right in my entire life except love Geoff and Rand. I'm really quite selfish, you know. Very selfish. Ask anyone who knows me. Ask my father.

{246}

"I must do this. I want to do this!"

"I'll come with you," said Billie. "You need someone. I don't like it, I admit, but if you need me, I'm here. Moss wouldn't have it any other way. I won't sit in judgment of you, Amelia. I simply want to be your friend."

"Oh, Billie!" Amelia cried, clasping Billie's hands. "You are my friend. You're more. You're my sister!"

The next afternoon Billie and Amelia drove into Austin. They gave Carlos instructions to meet them at five o'clock in front of the Coleman Building, then waited until he pulled away before hailing a cab. Amelia sat stiff and silent in the backseat while Billie gave the address to the driver.

"You sure that's the address, miss?" the driver said, chewing on a cigar stub. "You don't look like the kind of ladies to go into that neighborhood."

"That's the address," Billie answered, her tone barring further comment. Amelia sat beside her, staring straight ahead, her cold pale hands clutched in her lap.

When the taxi came to a halt, Billie looked doubtfully out at the sleazy honky-tonks and littered sidewalks. "This is the place," Amelia said tonelessly. They paid the fare and stepped out.

"You want I should wait for you?"

"No, driver, thank you," Billie said, glancing around nervously. Men loitered on street comers; loud music with a Mexican flavor blared from the Loco Saloon; ragged children and hollow-eyed women walked aimlessly down the street. "Amelia, are you sure you have the right address?"

"This is it," she said, looking at a ramshackle doorway. "Let's get this the hell over with. Come on."

Billie had never been in such a place. The dark hallway smelled of burned garlic, mustiness, and garbage. Radios, each tuned to a different station, created a muffled cacophony. On the third floor, AmeUa rapped sharply on a scarred door.

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