Night Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy) (30 page)

      
Lee's face betrayed nothing. “I presume this is leading up to something. A family gathering to say farewell?”

      
“Jim and Charlee are giving a dinner for Mama and Papa and the children. The Oakleys will be there, and we're invited, too.” She waited for his reaction.

      
“A command performance,” he said, setting his glass down on the cabinet rather forcefully. “Your father must see that I'm not abusing you before he can go home with a clear conscience.”

      
“Call it what you will,” she said dejectedly, too emotionally overwrought to argue further. “Will you go or shall I make your excuses to Charlee?”

      
He chuckled in spite of himself. “No one makes excuses to Charlee Slade when she gets her mind made up. I'll be there—and never fear, I'll play the doting husband so well Junius Brutus Booth would be fooled!”

 

* * * *

 

      
The evening began with cautious politeness between Lee and his in-laws. Deborah acted uncertain but conciliatory. Rafe watched his son-in-law with a measuring eye as Lee laughed and talked with the Slades and Oakleys and roughhoused with the Slade children. Norrie and Caleb warmed quickly to him as well, taking to his teasing and charm easily. Adam even surprised his father by going out of his way to show Lee that he was welcome in the family. Indeed, the bridegroom showed decidedly more animation than did the bride.

      
Melanie was quiet and watchful before the meal, listening to the children's laughter ring through the house. Lee's natural ease with them made her think about how good he would be as a father.
But a father who wants his children to have
pureza de sangre.

      
The men spoke of the weather and probable road conditions on the Flemings' forthcoming trip home, and the women adjourned to the kitchen to assist Charlee's helper, Weevils, in putting the finishing touches to a magnificent feast of roast pork and sweet potatoes.

      
With appetites sharpened by horseplay, the children settled down to serious eating when called to supper, and the noise level around the table abated. Melanie was aware of Jim's attempts to draw Lee and Rafe into conversation about ranching.

      
Responding to his father-in-law's question about Night Flower's future, Lee said to Rafe, “I'm running about five thousand head now, but that's all I've had time to buy or gather on the land. After the ranch's being deserted for so long, it'll take awhile to gear up to the sort of operation you have. At least this time I have the capital to hire men and purchase all the materials I require.”

      
Rafe smiled and looked over at Deborah. “When I came to Texas, I was in a situation similar to yours—only instead of lying unattended for six years, Renacimiento had not been worked for nearly fifty. It was lucky for me that I had some cash to start off with, but even with that it took years of backbreaking work to get the place going. If Joe hadn't been there, we'd never have made Renacimiento succeed.”

      
“Your partner?” Lee questioned, vaguely recalling the name.

      
“Cherokee Joe De Villiers. He's half Indian, and he's been like an uncle to all of us. Hasn't he, Adam?” Melanie interjected, addressing her remark to her brother but watching Lee's reaction.

      
The interchange was not lost on Rafe, who was a survivor of many a strained dinner-table conversation at the Flamenco household in New Orleans. He flashed a quelling smile at his daughter. “Yes, Joe and his wife, Lucia, practically raised Melanie. They'll be so happy to hear that she's settled down and married now.”

      
“Oh, I may be married, Papa, but I'm still working for Clarence—mostly covering social news, nothing dangerous,” Melanie cooed.

      
Lee smiled tightly. The little bitch was baiting him, flaunting her damn Indian blood and hoyden activities right in front of the assembly to see if she could get a rise out of him. “Only a gossip column for the
Star
. After all, Mellie, you don't ever want to place yourself in danger again, do you?” His voice was soft, but the message came across loud and clear.

      
Melanie gritted her teeth at his added insult in using the pet name only family members called her. Deborah's violet eyes flashed warily between Lee and Melanie. Rafe sat back, waiting to see what his daughter would do next—and wondering what his son-in-law would do to counter. Jim coughed, hiding a grin behind his dinner napkin while Charlee kicked him under the table.

      
“Jeehosaphat, ” Obedience interjected suddenly, “I purely do hope yew two git saddled with a passel of younguns real quick 'n' take ta stayin' home. Keepin' up with either one o' yew's ‘nough ta tire out a lantern-jawed jackass! Keepin' up with
two
o' yew's nigh onta killin' a old gray mare like me!”

      
“I agree,” Charlee said with a chuckle, her cat-green eyes dancing as she looked at Lee. “What you need is a couple of hell-raisers like Will and Caleb to keep you close to home.”

      
“What about me? I keep Mama and Aunt Lucia real busy,” Norrie said with a mixture of childish pique and pride.

      
The adults and other children around the table joined in the laughter, but Lee looked at Melanie with a question in his night-dark eyes.

      
Melanie returned the searching look briefly, uncertain of what it meant. Did he really want her children, or did he simply lust for her body—the body of a beautiful kept woman?

 

* * * *

 

      
“Why do you suppose ole Sam's come all th' way from th' U.S. Senate jist ta dance in Santone?” Obedience speculated as she gave a final swat to the big blob of bread dough she was working in the boardinghouse kitchen.

      
“Politics, I guess. Sam likes to talk to his constituents,” Charlee replied, munching on a corn dodger as she visited with Obedience.

      
“Jeehosaphat, ‘pears ta me he might cud be oilin' th' waters over this here Injun mess. Folks in west Texas is plumb unhappy with th' way the’ gove'mint back in Washington's been handlin' things,” Obedience said shrewdly.

      
“From what I can get my tight-lipped husband to divulge, I think you're right. Sam's always been on the Indians' side, trying to keep white settlers from crowding them out of Texas.”

      
“ ‘N thet don't make voters hereabouts none too happy,” her friend averred.

      
“Especially with the Comanche raids increasing around Bexar County this past year. Why only last week another family sold their land to Laban Greer and took off for California after being burned out.”

      
Obedience nodded. “Th' Ryans. Good folks, even if ‘n ole man Ryan wuz a bit shiftless. Course if ‘n his woman an’ younguns warn't in town draggin' him outa th' saloon, they'd all be kilt dead by them bloodthirsty Comanch.”

      
“There have been so many settlers leaving. Lots of folks say it's the Congressmen in Washington who are to blame for not sending the army enough men and supplies to fight the Indians,” Charlee said with a touch of doubt in her voice.

      
Obedience let out a snort of derision. “I kinda 'spect our senator won't take real kindly to thet talk. Whilst Houston's here mendin' fences, yew don't suppose he ‘n Jim'll be lookin' into whut Blaine ‘n some o' his cronies er doin?” Her shrewd brown eyes surveyed Charlee. Obedience knew Jim Slade had secretly worked for Houston when Sam was president of the Republic.

      
“You know, Mrs. Oakley, you'd make a hell of an agent. Maybe I can speak real sweetly to Sam at the dance tomorrow night and get you a job,” Charlee said with a chuckle.

      
“Speakin’ o' sweet talk, how er Lee 'n' Melanie gettin' on? Been nigh on ta three weeks since't her folks left. She's been galavantin' round town fer thet old Yankee Pemberton, but I scarce kin git her ta light ‘n talk ta me.”

      
Charlee nodded sagely. “I think she's avoiding us. She knows we want her and Lee to work things out, and it's not going well.”

      
“Yew don't think them two young folks is still sleepin' in separate beds, do yew?”

      
Sighing, Charlee shrugged. “She's so scarred by her past and he's so damnably proud, I don't know. After the combustion between them when they first met, I was positive it would be inevitable. It sure was for Jim and me, and we weren't even married!” She had the good grace to blush, but only slightly as Obedience slapped her thigh and let out a hearty guffaw.

      
“Since't her mama's not here ‘n yew know Lee bettern' 'n anyone hereabouts, mebbe yew better have a talk with thet gal ‘n set her straight. Ain't natural fer a female ta ignore a man like Lee Velasquez ‘n pay attention ta one like Clarence Pemberton.”

      
Charlee's eyes lit up. “Clarence is scarcely Lee's rival, but there is one other possibility.” Her agile mind quickly went into high gear as she began to plan her strategy for the dance the following evening.

      
Melanie was covering the big gala ball given in honor of Texas' illustrious senatorial visitor, the hero of the revolution and twice president of the Republic. Of course, Lee felt compelled to attend so his wife would have an escort. They had ridden to San Antonio in the afternoon and reserved a room at a local hotel. Since the boardinghouse was filled to capacity, Melanie insisted that she and Lee would make their own sleeping arrangements. She knew Obedience would find a way to put them in one small room, deliberately attempting to force them together. Instead, Melanie had rented a suite with a comfortable sitting room off the bedroom, was equipped with a large sofa on which she planned to spend the night.

      
Standing before the mirror, Melanie held up the gown she had bought last week, inspecting it critically. It was a deep golden yellow satin that gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. The complement to her ebony hair and sun-kissed skin was apparent, but the way its luster exactly matched the color of her gold eyes was what had really drawn her to choose it.

      
“Now you need high-heeled slippers and your hair piled high on your head. Something with lots of coils and a few loose, springy curls—soft but adding height,” Charlee said musingly from the doorway between the bedroom and outside sitting room. “I let myself in when you didn't reply to the knock. Lee said you were up here unpacking.”

      
Melanie dropped the ball gown on the bed and turned away from the mirror. “Why all this sudden interest in what I wear? Shouldn't you be getting all dolled up to dance with the senator yourself? After all, he's your guest at Bluebonnet.”

      
Charlee grinned. “Sam's already reserved a dance for me. He and Jim are out strolling around town—putting an ear to the ground ‘to listen for signs'—that's Sam's expression for observing the political climate. I have lots of time to get ready. Brought my dress clothes from the ranch this morning. Sadie's pressing my gown right now. Speaking of gowns,” Charlee said casually, picking up the gold satin cloud from the bed, “this is really beautiful. There's hope for you yet. Try it on and let's see how it fits.”

      
Melanie knew Charlee was up to something, and it related to her persistent matchmaking. “It fits just fine—well, maybe a bit lower cut in the front than I'd prefer; but once she'd measured me, the seamstress insisted I wear it that way.”

      
Charlee chuckled. “Your mother had to persuade me to -wear a low-cut dress once. Of course, if I had all the assets you have to fill it out, I might have been more willing to give it a try. One thing we do have in common, though—our height, or lack thereof.”

      
“So?” Melanie shrugged indifferently. “I've never found being short a disadvantage.”

      
“To quote your mama again, “It is if you want to catch a tall man,’ ” Charlee replied.

      
Melanie turned abruptly and picked up the dress, fingering the slick fabric. “Who says I want to catch any man, much less that tall
Tejano
you're thinking of?” Her nervous gesture belied her insouciant tone of voice.

      
Charlee sighed. “This is really getting tiresome, you know that? I've played this scene before—only I had your part. Luckily, Deborah cared enough about me to shake . some sense into me. She got me past my mulish Missouri pride and made me admit I wanted to catch Jim. Whether or not that damned Creole pride of yours will loosen up is another matter; but I know you want Lee, young lady, and I aim to see to it that you get him. Look at it this way: you've got one hell of an edge. You're already married to him, even if the marriage hasn't been consummated yet.”

      
Melanie dropped the gold dress as if she had been scorched by it. “How did you—” she blurted, then stopped short, her cheeks aflame in humiliation.

      
Charlee put her arm around Melanie's shoulders and gave her a sisterly squeeze. “I've known Lee Velasquez for a long time. He's proud and stubborn, and he doesn't like being forced. He's also got some very dumb ideas about the kind of woman he thinks he wants for a wife. It's up to you to show him the light.”

      
“All this is predicated on the assumption that I want this marriage to work,” Melanie said with her own share of stubbornness.

      
“Humor me. Wouldn't it be satisfying to watch him eat his heart out with jealousy while you're the belle of the ball? Just think of it as sweet revenge for all that smug male arrogance you've endured.” Charlee cocked her head and waited for Melanie's reaction.

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