Authors: Neva Brown
Later, she talked to her image in the mirror. “Never did I think I’d live to see you wearing a pink dress.” She perused the petal soft pink of the silk faille dress with its scooped neckline, long, fitted sleeves, and straight skirt with a slit up to her knee that revealed her sheer stockings as she walked. Professor and Mrs. Buford would be proud of their handiwork. “Thanks to them I know how to walk, talk, and look like a lady. Now if I just felt like one.” She inspected her well-buffed fingernails, studied her light makeup and her hair that now smelled of spring rain rather than chlorine.
You’ll have to do.
She went to her sitting room, flipped on the reading exercise machine, and forced herself to concentrate on her eye exercises.
Tres saw her there, looking like a cameo as he came to her open door. His heart kicked and his loins warmed as he knocked lightly.
She stood up and approached him. “Hi, how was the conference?”
The conference was not on his mind as he watched the lights from the chandelier dance and shimmer on her auburn hair and accent the ripples of the soft, iridescent pink silk of a dress that concealed, yet revealed, the subtle curves he wanted to touch.
As natural as was going to the well for water, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Sweet and warm as a summer breeze, she drifted against him and enfolded him with slender, strong arms. He was home.
The feel of fragile, fine bones in her back as she leaned back and smiled up at him with green eyes sparkling with desire sent his senses reeling. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so at one with his world.
“Rosalinda told me you rolled out the red carpet for the family,” Tres said as he ran a finger from her temple down to the neckline of her dress.
She laughed, quiet and husky, as she eased out of his arms. “Sure, if you call standing on the front steps barefooted with dirty shoes in my hand red carpet treatment.”
He caught her palm that had only recently healed from bleeding blisters. It felt soft as a baby kitten as it cuddled against his palm.
“Rosalinda, in her singular way, said the new wife was uppity. I got the feeling she thought the new Mrs. Spencer had been a little condescending to you.”
Casey’s raised an eyebrow then giggled, kicking Tres’ temperature up another notch. “What can you expect from royalty?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Oh, do we have royalty in the family now?”
“You certainly do. If you need a subject for conversation, just ask Mrs. Spencer about her ancestors.” She gave him a mischievous grin as the grandfather clock down the hall began to chime.
Tres heaved a man-sized sigh. “We better go make conversation, I guess, but before we go, come with me.” Tres led Casey down the hall to his suite and kept her at his side as he rummaged around in the back of an armoire drawer and brought out a velvet box. He picked up a webbed collar of fine white-gold bejeweled with opals. A single large opal hung at the center point of the lacy triangle. Placing the delicate chain around her neck, he leaned back and surveyed it, nodding, then fastened it.
Pulling the matching ring from its slot, he slipped it onto her right-hand ring finger. The fiery opal in the setting slid around to the palm of her hand. The band was too big. He slid it off that finger and placed it on her index finger, then grinned. “That’s even better.” He took out matching earrings with opals that came alive with color in the light. “Maybe you better put these on.” He handed them to her.
“What are you doing?” Casey asked, with a bewildered look.
Tres touched the jewels at her neck. “I thought of these opals when I saw you in that dress. They go together. Besides, we don’t want royalty to misunderstand us country folks.”
Turning her to the mirror in the armoire, he stood behind her and watched as she put on the earrings. “Now that is royalty.”
Casey stared into the mirror, mesmerized as she peered at Tres’ image behind her. His eyes shone in good humor and something else, almost feral. As her eyes took in the dainty exquisiteness of the jewelry, she caught her breath. “Tres, somebody will be sure to ask about my wearing such gorgeous jewelry. I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“Just say they came from Australia and you enjoy wearing them.” His lips brushed her temple. “We better get out of here and go visit with the family.”
Tres and Casey left his suite holding hands and talking, unaware of Jordan and Leila watching them as they came from the other side of the mezzanine toward the head of the wide staircase.
Casey knew Tres had spoken with Jordan earlier in the afternoon, while Leila rested in their room. They met the New York Spencers at the top of the stairs. “Leila, this is Tres,” Jordan said, without acknowledging Casey.
Leila extended a plump little bejeweled hand. “How wonderful to finally meet you. My daughter, Lani, is about your age. She should have joined us.”
Tres did not comment on the daughter, but squeezed Casey’s hand as if to say,
I told you so.
Game on!
“Is this your first visit to West Texas?” he asked as the four of them descended the stairs.
Leila preened. “It is, and I find it quite impressive. I had no idea Jordan’s family ruled such a territory.”
“Hardly rule! Mattie Lou and I have spent several days trying to convince politicians to leave landowners’ water rights alone and not siphon off water to supply the big cities at the expense of damaging the environment.”
As they entered a drawing room, Mattie Lou rose from her wingback chair and held out her arms for her son, who left his wife’s side and embraced his mother. Keeping his arm around her shoulders, he turned and introduced her to his wife.
Mattie Lou’s gracious smile would have charmed birds out of the trees. “Welcome to the Running S. I’m sorry Tres and I weren’t here when you arrived. Water rights and conservation have become such an issue in the whole state. We felt we needed to represent our area that is so sparsely populated. Politicians sometimes forget us.”
Leila beamed. “I understand completely. My family knows well what can happen when one’s rights are not defended.”
Mattie Lou inclined her head at Tres. “We have time for drinks before dinner if you like.”
“Good,” he said, and glanced at to Casey. “Club Soda?”
She nodded.
“White wine?” he asked Mattie Lou, then looked to Leila. “What may I get for you?”
Casey could see Leila had not missed the subtly. With a hint of pique, she asked, “I don’t suppose a pineapple daiquiri would be possible?”
“No problem.” Tres smiled and turned to Jordan. “What for you?”
“Bourbon and branch water works for me.”
As Tres set about fixing drinks, Leila asked Jordan about the portrait of his grandfather, Seth Spencer, that dominated the wall over the fireplace. “Is that the grandfather you mentioned?”
“Indeed it is. He was the powerhouse who put the family fortune together. His father disinherited him so he was hell-bent on showing the world he could do better than his older brother who inherited everything in Scotland.”
“Why in the world would a father disinherit a son?” Leila asked.
Jordan grinned. “It had something to do with his not being willing to donate his earnings to the family funds that his father and older son had total control of, I believe.” He turned to Mattie Lou and asked, “Is that about the sum of it, Mother?”
Mattie Lou smiled with joy. “Yes, it seems J.D.’s father, much like my father, was an exceptional entrepreneur. Everything those two touched made money. Neither Seth’s father nor his older brother was as adept at managing finances.
Seth just couldn’t see his way clear to hand money over to them and see it disappear so he stopped contributing. On his deathbed, Seth’s father disinherited him. So the twenty-year-old Seth and his childhood sweetheart slipped away in the night and sailed to America.” Mattie Lou took a sip of her wine as she gazed at the portrait. “There’s no end to the stories told about the courage and determination of Seth and Astrid Spencer as they made their way West and settled in the wilds of West Texas.”
Kari came to the dining room door. Mattie Lou said, “Kari is prepared to serve when we are ready.”
Tres nodded. “Shall we take our drinks with us? My bet is that Grandpa Seth wouldn’t approve of our wasting good drinks.” Taking Mattie Lou’s arm and turning to Casey, he shepherded both ladies into the dining room, while Jordan seated his wife at the perfectly appointed table.
Leila placed her hand on Jordan’s arm while Kari served the first course. “Darling, I do believe you inherited a good share of your grandfather’s financial acumen. How did it happen that you did not inherit these vast holdings that he procured when your father died?”
Casey watched Jordan’s eye dart to Mattie Lou then to Tres. Silence hung heavy in the room until he said with an uncomfortable laugh, “It’s a long story, nearly a half-century old. Let’s leave it for another time and instead tell Mother about our plans to make our retirement home in your family’s old bailiwick.”
Leila reminded Casey of a calf roper who’d missed the calf with his first loop and shook out his second rope while his horse ran at top speed to keep the calf in range. Without a bobble, she faced Mattie Lou with sparkling brown eyes and smiled beautifully. “Your son is truly the most wonderful man. He researched real estate in Hawaii until he found an area where my ancestors had had a palace long ago. Of course, the area has been developed, but one of the larger estates has been put on the market. He took an option on it and we are going to see if it would be suitable for our retirement years.”
Casey patted her mouth with her napkin to hide a smile, thinking,
Ms. Royalty made a tactical mistake with Mattie Lou by questioning a decision J.D. had made.
“I assumed you were from New York,” Mattie Lou said with a touch of prim and proper in her voice that Leila seemed oblivious to, but Jordan, Tres, and Casey recognized.
“I live there now, but my family can trace its roots back to the kings who ruled the islands before the intrusion of the outside world. Actually, our family was influential in the islands until the 1930s when labor unions disrupted the order of things. Then the Second World War came, ending the way of life to which my people were accustomed, so they came to the States.”
When Leila hesitated to take a breath, Jordan said, “If I remember right, our family had some severe problems to overcome in the ‘30s.”
Casey didn’t know whether it was to help Mattie Lou get over her pique or to let Leila know whose territory she was playing in, but Tres put his hand on Casey’s arm. “Do you remember some of those wild stories J.D. used to tell when everyone gathered for the ranch Thanksgiving dinner?”
Very willing to play his game, Casey said, “Oh, yes. One of my favorites was how they hid the best of their Hereford cattle in the brushy canyons when the government agents came through killing all the livestock. He always added that the Depression and drought created a disaster that many ranchers never recovered from. Then he would always say, ‘The Spencers hunkered down and rode it out’.”
Casey smiled at Leila, whose expression still said she could not figure out just how Casey fit into the scheme of things in the Spencer family.
“If my memory serves me right,” Jordan said, “that was about the time the Spencers and MacVanes ventured into the real estate business, buying up land at less than ten cents on the dollar. Lots of people went broke and just wanted enough money to get away from what they called this godforsaken country. One deal they used to talk about was giving a man a dollar and a milk cow for a section of land. That was a cheap six hundred and forty acre.”
They moved into the drawing room for after-dinner coffee.
Mattie Lou settled regally in her wingback chair. “Seth and my father never talked much about the land deals they made before the ‘30s. But the Spencers and MacVanes bought land or, at times, just mineral rights from people they knew who settled on both sides of the Pecos River much earlier.”
Jordan looked at Leila. “Do you remember we came through some little towns where I told you I worked one summer in the oilfield in that area?”
“Yes, that’s where we saw the huge windmills rowed up along the ridges of the flat top mountains you called mesas.”
“That’s the area Mother is talking about.”
“But I didn’t see a river.” Leila said.
“I’m not surprised,” Mattie Lou said. “The Pecos River is just a tiny stream where the highway crosses over it, hardly noticeable.”
Jordan smiled at his mother. “I remember Grandpa Seth and Grandpa Mac discussing, heatedly at times, about how much was safe to invest in that country that ‘A crow wouldn’t fly over’. Wasn’t the house in Highland Park in Dallas part of one of those deals?”
Mother and son forgot the three others in the room for a short time. They discussed how two astute old men got into the oil business through the back door. They had bought out ranchers who’d starved-out and financed wildcatters drilling for oil on that seemingly worthless country.
Leila moved restively at her husband’s side, halting the reminiscing. Jordan knew exactly the thing to say to interest his wife. “Do you remember the Formal French Estate house I showed you the night we had dinner with the Thurstons when we were in Dallas?”
“The three-story, gray stone across the creek from the Thurstons?” Leila asked.
Jordan nodded. “That’s the one. My grandfathers got it from a wildcatter who needed ready cash more than he needed a fancy house. They called it a ‘white elephant’ back then.”
Leila looked at Tres with a pleased smile on her face. “I almost forgot. Melanie Thurston said to tell you ‘hello’. Is it true you two were engaged at one time?”
“Yes, but things didn’t work out,” Tres said evenly.
“Evelyn said Melanie moved back home after a rather bitter divorce last year. She and her son are living with Evelyn and Harold.” Leila looked at Jordan. “What is her ex-husband’s name?”
“I’m not sure anybody said. We didn’t meet her son. Just saw him at a distance. Looked to be a pre-teenager, blond-haired, and brown as a berry. He and some of his friends were swimming when we arrived.” The nonchalance of Jordan’s remark was not lost on the others in the room.