Legacy (4 page)

He gave me a rough shove forward, but I would not go another step. 'You take your hands off me if you know what's good for you,' I said. 'And release that man.'

He twisted me around to face him, his thin mouth in a crooked smile. 'What is he, some friend of yours? How long you been up here?'

I looked him straight in the eye, for I was as tall as he was. 'I said to release that man.'

The one called Garth spoke up. 'Hey, Parsons, why don't you hold her there for a minute? See if she talks to me like that. Looks to me like she needs those teeth of hers loosened up some.'

Suddenly I realized what an insanely foolish thing I had done. These men would not hesitate to hurt me. And if they found out who my father was, they would probably expect Brad to reward them ...

'. . . not too quick with that,' Parsons was saying. 'Just pitch me over that whisky. Let's see if we can't persuade her to tell us what she's doin' up here.'

He grabbed my arm again, hard, making me wince, while Garth prepared to throw the whisky bottle.

What happened next occurred so swiftly that I remember it only as a blur of events. Suddenly the man called Shaw lashed out at Garth with a kick that took him by surprise. Garth staggered, and then Shaw kicked him in the belly, knocking him down, and made a running leap into the saddle of one of the horses. As Shaw struggled with the ropes on his wrists, Parsons pushed me down in the grass and dashed after him.

Now, I thought. Now was the time for me to get to my own horse and ride away from here!

I picked myself up and stumbled back behind the cover of the spruce trees. The needles hurt my face, but I pressed on, running through the forest as fast as I could, through the slippery pine needles on the forest floor. If I got to my horse, I could circle around to the road that I knew led up to Brad's mansion from Grampian. Once I was on that road I could head straight into town, then head for home.

No. I would have to take the horse back to the stable first. Otherwise, there would have to be explanations. Would I see Steven at the stables?

My toe caught on a root and I nearly fell flat. As it was, I stumbled against a tree, and one of the stubby, bare branches around the lower part of the trunk poked into my side and made me gasp with pain. Watch where you're going! I thought angrily. Get to the horse first and then away from here. Then you'll have plenty of time to think.

I got my bearings again and set off. Up ahead I could see my horse's silhouette through the trees. It was right where I'd left it. Just a few steps more and then I had the reins in my hands and was steadying the horse to mount.

But I panicked when I heard someone ride through the trees close behind me. I gave a little cry and began to run, even though my lungs ached and I knew I didn't have the strength to get very far.

Then behind me I heard a voice, and suddenly everything changed. 'Hey, hold on there, Catherine! Hold on there! Where do you think you're off to?'

I turned and looked up into the dark, handsome eyes of Steven Graybar. Quickly he had dismounted and was at my side, supporting me as I began to grow faint again. Suddenly I realized how disheveled I must look by now. I could feel my cheeks grow warm with the flush of embarrassment. He was asking me what had happened.

'I . . . need to catch my breath. One of your father's men attacked me back there, and I had to run away.'

I leaned against Steven and told him about Shaw. Slowly I began to feel that I was safe again. Surely Steven would protect me, even though we had quarreled, even though I could not do what he had demanded.

When I had finished speaking, Steven's brown eyes hardened as he looked off in the direction of the castle. For a moment he seemed lost in another world far away from the woods where the two of us were standing.

'That bastard Brad.' Steven called his father by his first name, behind his back and to his face, as well. 'I swear he'll pay for it.'

When he looked back at me, his eyes were warm with feeling. 'Why do they have to drag us down with them? If only they weren't so damned foolish, we could . . .'

I knew he was talking about my father and his, and about the feud that still kept Steven and me apart. 'Let's not quarrel again, Steven,' I interrupted. 'It's just going to take time.'

As I turned my face up to his, I realized how much I wanted to reach out and touch the smooth contours of his face, as I might run my fingers lightly over the face of a marble statue. I was still fascinated by Steven's easy grace, by the way his boldness shone through his air of unmistakable breeding.

I had never refused him anything, really, until today. This afternoon I had blazed with anger. I would not be bullied into a marriage, I had told him, by my father or anyone else, including him.

Yet even now, even though we had not yet settled our quarrel, Steven Graybar was difficult to resist. The warmth of his presence stirred feelings deep within me. The little half-smile that played around the corners of his lips seemed charming. I knew he understood the effect he was having.

And I knew, too, how much he wanted me.

His lips were only inches from mine.

'Oh, Steven,' I said, 'we can't make it hard for each other. What shall we . . . how shall. .. '

He brought his lips close to brush my words away, and in that moment came a glad release of welcoming. I yielded as his kiss came, warm and smooth, and then suddenly hard, urgent, demanding, until those desires we had shared together burned deep within me, and the wind, the afternoon forest, and the smell of the pines around us all were gone and there was only Steven.

All at once I grew frightened. I broke away from him, stepping backward to steady myself, looking around for a few moments until my thoughts cleared. I had been ready to give in to him just then! If he had asked me to promise him . . .

'I'd better be getting back,' I said, and I was relieved that my voice did not betray the tumult of emotions that I felt. I could not think that I would give up my freedom and my family for the fascination of Steven's lovemaking. And I certainly could not have him thinking so!

Yet, I saw the confidence in his dark eyes. I found myself agreeing to meet him late that night in the rose arbor at the far end of our garden. And as we rode quietly down to the trail that led to the stables, the thought crossed my mind that beneath the surface of the proud millionaire's daughter I had been brought up to be might lie something or someone entirely different.

Chapter Two

After I returned my horse to the stables and made sure that it would be properly attended to, I had Jared, Father's coachman, drive me home along the river road. This wasn't the quickest way home, but I knew that I needed time to think. Besides, I liked to watch the mountains and the river as we drove along. There was a range of mountains called the Bald Eagles across the Susquehanna River, rising up from its southern bank. These mountains were not as high as Legacy, but they gave me a feeling of peace, with the new green of fresh spring leaves showing on them like a mist above the waters of the wide river.

Since it was late Saturday, the river was nearly quiet. Only a log raft or two, each with its two pole men, floated along on the way down to the mills in Grampian from the 'boom', the floating corral where branded logs from every lumber camp were stored upstream. Here and there on the banks were the fishermen: shantytown boys with fishing poles, or solitary men in ragged work clothes, still hoping to catch a trout or a bass for the night's dinner.

From my seat in Father's open summer carriage, I watched the river and tried to put my thoughts in order. I was safe now. I would be seeing Steven later. But what should I do about that man I had seen so cruelly treated this afternoon? Had he escaped? I could not be certain that he had ridden away from Legacy without being caught. He might have run into other men who worked for Brad Graybar. What would they do to him?

What could I do about what I had seen? If I told Father that I had been to Legacy, he would be furious! And would it help anyone to tell him that Brad Graybar had caught Shaw? This would mean that Shaw would never get his two hundred dollars, certainly - if he had indeed been working for Father - for Father would never pay if he knew Shaw had been discovered. But hadn't Brad Graybar said that he was going to have Shaw followed, that he was going to try to trap the man called Campbell when Shaw asked for his payment? That might prove Father was behind it.

It was all so confusing!

And as I watched the late-afternoon sun shimmer on the peaceful waters of the Susquehanna, my confusion grew. Why would Brad Graybar come within a hair's breadth of murdering a man and then tell him that he was free to go - and, moreover, that he would use him to get legal evidence against Father? All Shaw needed to do was to tell the authorities what kind of treatment he had received, and Brad would be in worse trouble. But Shaw couldn't tell about the treatment he'd received, at least not in court. Shaw had no witnesses to corroborate his story.

Except for me.

I had seen it all. Again it struck me how foolish I had been to show myself up there on Legacy. Now I was a threat to Brad. As soon as he learned that there had been a witness, he would know that Shaw and I together could bring him into court. And, of course, they would soon learn who I was. I had told Steven, and Steven would be certain to tell them. And then they would know that they had to keep me quiet.

I was suddenly very much afraid. I should have kept out of sight. I never should have tried to interfere. I never should have told Steven.

But now, if I told Father, that would only make matters worse.

I felt boxed in. To tell Father would bring me swift punishment for disobedience; I could be sure of that. But to say nothing might keep me in danger if Brad Graybar thought I would speak out. Unless I could convince Steven that I meant them no harm, that I was not going to get involved in the struggle our families were waging against each other . . .

But could I do that? Could I stand by and watch my father taken to court? Was this what Steven had meant when he said they would drag the two of us down with them?

I wished I never had met Steven Graybar. Yet, even as I thought of him, I felt a warmth returning to my body as I remembered his touch, his kiss, the magic he had awakened within me. And I would be seeing him tonight! I told myself that tonight I would find a way out. Steven would tell me how things stood, and we could plan what to do. Neither of us wanted to be enemies. I could trust him, just as he could trust me. I would enjoy the mountains and the river and the rest of the ride home.

After our dinner guests had gone, after everyone in the house had gone to bed, then I would see Steven.

I had just begun to relax and grow absorbed with the view when I heard horses behind me, and my father's voice, loud and vigorous, called out: 'Hey-yo, Jared! Whoa up there! Pull over!'

We stopped on the grass at the roadside, under a clump of tall elm trees, just as Father galloped up alongside, his big bay stallion snorting as he reined it in. Father, bulky, red-faced, and energetic, looked in good spirits. He carried his large frame well, sitting tall and in complete control of his horse. Without even looking at his tailored grey wool jacket or his hand-tooled polished leather saddle, one could tell that Sam Rawlings was a man of authority and means. His wide face, his broad smile, his tufts of soft, thinning blond hair - all had that sleek look of the man who has been well cared for. And his quick grey eyes, constantly alert, marked him as a man completely accustomed to having his own way.

'Well, who've we got here?' he sang out as he saw me. Then over his shoulder: 'Come on over here, Justin! Want you to meet my daughter!'

Another man, younger and not as heavyset as Father, rode up in a swirl of hoofbeats, his light brown hair tousled by the wind. He was dressed in a tan riding suit, shiny tan boots, and a white shirt open at the collar. Both he and my father carried rifles slung across their backs. I noticed they both had full game bags.