The Glorious Prodigal (36 page)

“No.”

The two sat there, and then Stuart suddenly put his arm around Leah. “I’m sorry I brought this trouble on you.”

“Has she tried to see you before?”

“Yes. But I’ve kept away from her. If I never see that woman again, it’ll be too soon!” He squeezed her and, reaching over, turned her face toward him. “You’re my wife, Leah. You’re all the woman I ever want. I don’t care anything about Cora.”

His look and his sincere words flooded her heart with love and helped to push back the dark feelings that tried to plague her with fear and doubt. She reached up, put her hand on his cheek, and for a moment the two sat there. Finally she whispered, “I’m glad you told me.”

Stuart pulled her forward and kissed her and then was silent for a moment. Finally he said, “I’ve changed my mind. I will go see her.”

Leah’s heart sank. “You will?” she whispered.

Stuart grinned. “Yes. But I want you with me. We’ll both go answer her note.”

Leah straightened up, and her eyes glinted. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

****

Cora was finishing up a letter when her maid, Ruth, came in and said, “There’s somebody to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. They just say they need to see you.”

“All right, Ruth. I’ll see them.”

Putting down her pen, Cora rose and made her way out of the drawing room. She turned into the foyer and stopped dead still and for a moment could not think of a word to say.

Stuart Winslow stood beside Leah, feeling the pressure of her hand on his arm. “We got your note, Cora. So here we are.”

Something in Stuart’s tone was challenging, and Cora stared at Leah. She was not easily disturbed and shaken, but now rich color came up into her cheeks. She could not think of a single thing to say until finally she said lamely, “Well . . . won’t you come in?”

“No. I don’t think we need to do that, Cora,” Leah said.
“Your note came, and as soon as Stuart gave it to me, I knew we had to come over and get a few things straight.”

Anger rushed through Cora, for she was not accustomed to situations where she was not in total control. When she had written the note, she had been sure that Stuart would come as he always had in the old days. Now she saw that he was watching her critically with a slight smile on his face. He was, she saw, enjoying her discomfort. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Leah!”

“Yes, you do,” Leah said quietly. And then she lifted her chin. She made an attractive picture as she stood there, for she had dressed carefully for this occasion. She wore a loose-fitting day dress made of a light peach-colored material and covered with a lightweight jacket that fell to hip level. The jacket had a V-shaped neckline, wide collar, and long sleeves all highlighted in a light tan, and the skirt hung down above her ankles where two-toned boots with buttons finished her look. On her head was a tan velvet hat with a high crown, an undulating brim, and a dark brown feather coming out of one side.

There was an assurance in her voice as she said, “You’ll have to get another man, Cora. You can’t have mine.”

“I’ve had him before!”

“I know you have, but that’s over now.”

“We’ll see about that,” Cora said. “I can get any man I want!”

“Not this one, Cora,” Stuart said easily. “I know I’ve been a fool over you in the past, but you can forget me. I learned some hard lessons while I was in prison for the mistakes I made, but God was merciful to give me another chance. When I had given up on Him, He did not give up on me. And He’ll do the same for you if you give Him a chance. He’s forgiven me and so has Leah. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

Cora’s eyes flew open, and she began to scream. Curses streamed out of her mouth, and for a moment it seemed she would fly at the two to assault them physically.

Leah simply stood there and waited until the tirade was over. Then she said, “Good-bye, Cora. I don’t think we’ll be meeting again. Are you ready, Stuart?”

“Ready. Good-bye, Cora. Don’t write any more notes. They’re a waste of your time.”

The two left, and Cora stood there, her hands trembling. She wanted to scream and throw herself against the door. Anger and jealousy raged through her like a turbulent river. She was a woman of deep emotions, but never had a man turned her aside so bluntly for another woman. Now she went back to her room, slammed the door, and for a long time walked the floor. She was shocked at the depth of anger that rose up in her. Finally she got control of herself, and going to the door, she called out to the maid. “Ruth!”

The maid appeared at once. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Pack a suitcase for me. I’m going to Fort Smith.”

“Yes, ’um. How long you going to stay?”

Cora smiled and there was a cruelty in it. “As long as it takes,” she said. “Pack that new blue dress I bought last week.”

****

“There’s a lady to see you, Mr. Castleton.”

Mott looked up from his desk where he was working on a mass of papers that were scattered all over it. It was an important case, and he did not want to be disturbed. “A woman? What’s her name?”

“Mrs. Cora Simms.”

“Cora Simms?” Mott sat for a moment with the pen in his hand, then he carefully put it in the inkwell and rose. “Have her come in, Simpson.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mott rose to his feet, and as Cora came to the door, he smiled. “Hello, Cora. I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Well, Mott. How are you? My, you’re looking so well.”

Cora was wearing the blue dress she had specifically
ordered her maid to pack. It was tight-fitting, and she knew it made the most of her rich, full figure. Now she smiled and took his hand, holding on to it and squeezing it tightly. “I just came to Fort Smith to shop for a day or two, and I thought it might be nice to drop by and see what a rising young attorney does in his spare time. What are you doing? Foreclosing on some poor widow’s house?”

“Nothing so exciting as that.” Mott grinned. “Although I’ve been accused of doing worse things. Here, sit down, Cora.” He waited until she was seated and drew another chair up across from her. She began to talk in a sprightly fashion, and Mott was pleased at the interruption. Several years ago he had thought she was interested in him, but it had come to nothing. Now he felt a stir of excitement within him. He knew she was not a virtuous woman, never had been, and he watched carefully for some sign of her intentions.

“I thought you might take me out to dinner, Mott.”

“Why, it would be my pleasure! Where are you staying?”

“At the Majestic.”

“Why don’t I pick you up about six? There’s a show in town. We might take it in and then have a late dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll be waiting for you.”

When she rose, she reached out her hand, and he took it as he escorted her to the door. When she paused at the door and squeezed it, Mott somehow knew that, for whatever reason, Cora Simms had come to town for a purpose. He was a shrewd man, adept at reading the eyes of people, and there was a promise in Cora’s expression that stirred him so that he said quickly, “I’ll look forward to it.”

“So will I, Mott.”

****

The evening had been a success for Mott Castleton. He and Cora had attended a performance by a troupe of Shakespearean actors who had put on a rollicking performance of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
The company had performed
the play as a slapstick comedy, and Mott had found it highly amusing.

Afterward they had gone to the restaurant at the Majestic, which served the finest food in Fort Smith. The steaks had been delicious, and now as they sat there drinking coffee, Mott found himself more stirred by this woman than he had thought possible.

He listened as she spoke. Since she was a widely traveled woman, and a wealthy one as well, she had many amusing anecdotes to tell.

Finally Cora said, “Well, it’s getting late, Mott.”

“I’ll take you to your room.”

Paying the bill, Mott left the restaurant and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. When they got to the door, Cora removed her key from her purse, opened it, then turned and looked at him and said, “Would you care to come in for a drink?”

“Yes. Of course,” Mott said quickly.

The drink turned out to be several drinks, and finally Mott reached forward and pulled her to him. They were sitting on a couch, and he kissed her passionately, but she suddenly pulled back.

“Mott—” she said and then hesitated as she held her hand on his chest, holding him away.

“What is it, Cora? What’s the matter?”

“Mott, do you know what they’re saying about you?”

“What who’s saying?”

“Everyone,” Cora said quickly. She looked up and held his eyes. “They’re saying that you made a fool of yourself over Leah Winslow.”

“They’re saying that, are they?”

“They’re laughing at you, Mott. I heard a man yesterday say that Stuart had made a fool out of you.”

A flash of anger rose in Mott Castleton. Her words only enflamed a grudge that had never died out. For days after Leah had broken off with him long ago, he had been consumed
by the same anger that now rose in him again. He had never liked Stuart Winslow, and now he said harshly, “That’s what they’re saying, is it?”

“Yes.”

Despite the renewed anger that rushed through him, Mott suddenly caught something in Cora’s expression. He thought quickly and then drew back. “What about you and Stuart?” He saw his question stirred something in Cora, and then he laughed. “Oh, so you made your try, and Stuart wouldn’t have anything to do with you! Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s it!” Cora said vehemently. “I don’t like to be tossed aside, Mott.”

“Well, it looks like there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Yes, there is. There’s got to be something.”

Mott suddenly was struck with an idea. He had been hoping for some time that somehow Stuart would break the conditions of his pardon and go back to prison. And now he said slowly, “All he’s got to do, Cora, is get involved in one fight. I’m sure we can find a judge only too ready to return Stuart to prison.”

“He’s too smart to get in a fight,” Cora said quickly.

Mott shook his head. He had a vivid imagination and already was beginning to formulate a plan. “Leave it to me. I’ll take care of it.”

Cora stood to her feet and he followed. She reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed him. “That’s my man,” she whispered.

He held her tightly. He was smart enough to know that she was using him. Still, she was a desirable woman, and he was a man who took what was offered.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“You’re a Coward, Winslow!”

Hack Wilson leaned back in his chair and studied the face of the man in front of him. His dealings with Mott Castleton had been strictly professional, for Castleton had defended him more than once on charges. If there was one man whom Hack admired among the breed of attorneys, it was Mott Castleton, for despite Hack’s contempt for men in general, Castleton had at least been able to keep him out of jail.

“You must want something, Counselor.” Wilson grinned. He was a course and beefy man well over six feet with close-cropped fair hair and close-set blue eyes. He was one of those men who delight in using his physical prowess to intimidate other men and had killed one man in a brawl in New Orleans. He had crippled others so brutally that most men walked around him carefully, fearful of his massive fists and savage power.

Mott had found Wilson in a bar in Lewistown, and now he took a quick drink, then leaned forward. “I’ve got a job for you, Hack.”

“That’ll be a switch. What kind of a job is it?”

“An easy one.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Wilson said sourly. “You just tell me what it is, and I’ll make up my mind whether it’s easy or not.”

“I want a man busted up.”

“What man?”

“Stuart Winslow.”

Wilson’s smallish eyes opened wide with surprise. “Winslow!” He thought for a moment, then laughed. “Oh, you was all set to marry his woman when he got out of the pen. I guess that makes you look pretty foolish, don’t it? I been hearin’ talk about it.”

“Never mind why I want it done. You don’t have any cause for loving Winslow yourself, do you? I remember back in the old days he took you down a few cuts.”

Wilson straightened up, and anger flared in his pale eyes. “That was a long time ago,” he said. Castleton had referred to a fight that Wilson had once had with Stuart in which he had been beaten. It was one of the few times Wilson had lost, and for years it had gnawed away at him. Now he leaned forward and said, “It won’t be any trouble. I can whip him, but if what I hear is true, he won’t fight. If he does, he goes back to the pen. He won’t be fool enough to fight.”

“You’ll have to find some way to make him fight. All he has to do is hit you one time. Now look, Hack. Do what you have to do, but there’s a hundred dollars in it for you if you get him to strike a blow.”

“Two hundred.”

“That’s too much.”

“I meant to say two-fifty. I’m like you lawyers.” Wilson grinned loosely. “My fees go up the more I argue.”

“All right. Two-fifty, but he has to fight. This is not just for beating him up. That won’t help me any.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make him fight.”

“And keep my name out of it.”

“I’ll have half of that money now. I’m a little shy.” Wilson waited until Mott produced some bills, stuck them in his pocket, and said, “I’ll take care of it, Counselor.”

****

“Okay, everybody get in,” Stuart called. Stuart started the car, and as Leah put Merry in the front seat and then sat down beside her, he said, “Where’s Raimey?”

“He had to go back and get his money. He’s planning to buy that new pocketknife he’s been saving for.”

Raimey, at that moment, came bursting out of the house and jumped in the backseat of the Ford. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s go fast, Dad.”

Stuart laughed and put the car in gear. Turning around, he left the yard and glanced over at Leah. “Be nice to have a day off,” he suggested. “You’ve been working too hard.”