Laurel didn’t deny what he said. She glanced down at the ring, which flashed streaks of green across the ceiling and walls as it caught the sunlight, then at her gold wedding band on the bureau. A sob rose and died in her throat to think of what that golden band had meant to her not so long ago. It signified pain to her now. Perhaps with Seth she would finally forget Tony. However, she knew it would take a long time. Would Seth be willing to wait?
She gazed at Seth through watery eyes. “I’ll wear the ring as a token of your affection. I can’t answer you yet, but if you’ll wait until I’m ready—”
He broke off her words by gently enfolding her in his arms and tenderly kissing her. “Anything you want, my darling. I’ll wait for as long as it takes you to make your decision.” But not too long, he found himself thinking.
Laurel broke away. “We should see to your father. He’s very worried about you.”
“I’ll finish cleaning up and come downstairs right away.” Seth took her hand and kissed the ring before turning his attention to the bureau drawer from which he pulled out a clean shirt. When he was putting it on, Laurel grabbed her golden wedding ring and slipped it into the pocket of her gown. She stole a quick glance at the flash of emeralds and diamonds on her left hand, almost overpowering her small finger. She decided that the simple, golden band had looked richer.
Just as Laurel and Seth were leaving his room, Gincie hurried down the hallway, calling to them. “Come quick,” she gasped, unable to draw an adequate breath. “Mr. Delaney’s taken real bad.”
Racing down the stairs, Laurel and Seth were halted in their strides by Carson Turner and another man as they carried Arthur into the parlor and laid him on the leather cushions of the sofa. Lavinia rushed in behind the men, followed by some of the other party-goers, concern written on their faces. Laurel watched while Lavinia placed a large red throw pillow beneath her father’s head.
“You’ll be all right, Papa,” Lavinia crooned softly, but unguarded fear covered her face.
Arthur was deathly pale and coughed up blood into a kerchief that Carson Turner held to his mouth. Laurel made her way through the people who stood silently by, almost as if they knew Arthur’s end was inevitable and didn’t know what to do.
Laurel tapped Carson on the shoulder. “Can’t anything be done?”
“Just to make him comfortable, Laurel. I think that’s all I can do for my old friend now.” Carson gazed at Arthur through blurry eyes.
When Seth came into view, towering above Laurel and Lavinia, Arthur had stopped coughing. His green eyes fastened on the three of them, and a little smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He spoke to Carson in a such a feeble voice that Laurel barely heard him.
“Make certain … my children…”
Carson nodded. “I told you everything is taken care of. Don’t worry, Art. Just rest now, rest.”
Somehow these words seemed to ease Arthur’s mind. Then he gave a contented sigh, and his soul slipped from his body. For a few moments no one could believe that Arthur Delaney was truly gone. Laurel and Lavinia stood transfixed. It was Lavinia who broke the spell by flinging herself across her father’s body.
“Papa, Papa, why did you leave me? You were the only one who ever loved me!”
Lavinia’s piteous weeping caused a sob to overpower Laurel. Pushing her way through the crowded parlor, she found herself outside. The evening air washed over her as she headed for the barn. Once inside the cool and shadowed nook of a stall, away from the curious and sympathetic faces of everyone, she sank onto a pile of hay and allowed herself the luxury of tears.
Carson Turner laid down the legal document on the black oak desk in Arthur’s study. He folded his hands and leaned forward, his gray eyes critically examining each of Arthur’s children. Needless to say, they all appeared astounded, and he couldn’t judge which one was the more surprised.
“Those are the terms of Arthur Delaney’s last will and testament, drawn up by me and duly witnessed not two weeks ago.”
“I can’t believe it. It isn’t possible…” Lavinia mumbled.
“The old man must have been out of his mind! He was crazy! There must be a way to declare the will invalid!” Seth paced up and down the room, the heels of his boots scraping harshly across the wooden floor. “Did the old coot think I was working my fingers to the bone, taking care of ranch business, just to discover that he had sold it? I don’t believe any of it. The will’s a fake.”
“Sorry, Seth. The will is quite legal. This is what Arthur wanted. You can protest it, but you’ll only be wasting your time and incurring a number of legal fees.” Carson peered at Seth over his horn-rimmed glasses. “I’d advise against such action. In your present situation you’d be quite foolish to make more debts.”
“But this is still our ranch, Mr. Carson,” Lavinia protested. “Papa would never have sold it without telling us. Why did he do such a thing?”
Carson’s gaze slid to Laurel for a second, then back to Lavinia. “He wanted his children to have some cash from the ranch’s sale. He felt that you, Lavinia, would be better off away from here, and that Seth, because of his extravagant life, was ill suited to ranching. He only wanted the best for you.”
“This is the worst thing that ever could have happened to me. I love the Little L!” Lavinia’s protest was drowned out by Carson’s voice.
“There’s more to the will. You should all be quiet and listen.”
Seth threw himself down in the chair beside Laurel. His face was a thundercloud, and he shook from intense rage, but he was quiet, in fact engrossed, when Carson began to read the rest of the will. The lawyer no longer directed his attention to Seth or Lavinia, but to Laurel.
“In the event of my death,” Carson read, “I wish the running of the Little L to be turned over to Laurel Delaney Duvalier. She shall execute decisions of ranch business and see to the handling of any monies. I request that she oversee the Little L until such time as the new owner arrives, and for a period of six months thereafter, she shall advise the owner in any capacity he deems fit.”
Carson stopped reading. Laurel jumped up, her hand clutching her throat. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Turner. My uncle couldn’t possibly have requested such a thing. I don’t know anything about ranching.”
“No, she doesn’t!” Seth interjected. “Father’s illness must have made him insane.”
“I assure you that your stepfather was completely sane,” Carson rebuked him, growing annoyed with Seth. “I’m finished with you and Lavinia. I have something to say to Laurel. Now you both leave us alone.”
Lavinia, almost in tears, and Seth, who looked more than puzzled, fairly glared at Laurel as they left the room. When the door was shut tight behind them, Carson turned a warm face to Laurel.
“Sit down, my dear, and don’t be so shocked. Arthur knew what he was doing when he appointed you to take care of the Little L. I think it has something to do with your father and mother.” He took a small key from his vest pocket and opened a drawer in Arthur’s desk. Withdrawing a folded piece of paper, he handed it to her. “This explains everything. I’ll leave you to read it alone. Then when you want me, I’ll be right outside.”
Carson smiled kindly and left the room. She began to read Arthur’s letter.
Dearest Laurel,
I know that you shall find my request strange, but if it hadn’t been for your father’s differences with me, the ranch would have been partly yours. I’d like to think that if Sylvester and Emily hadn’t left Texas, you’d have grown up wild and free, able to throw aside the restrictive life you now embrace. You’re a woman of passion, Laurel. I can sense that in a woman. Soon, you’ll meet someone just as passionate as yourself. I predict that with a certainty. Don’t turn away from passion and love when it comes, my dear. You’ll be forever sorry.
A long time ago, I fell in love with a beautiful woman. I’ve loved her all my life, but she didn’t love me. Still, fate was kind to both of us. The one night of our love produced a child … a daughter I dearly love. The woman I loved wished me never to tell our child that I am her father. I kept my promise. But if you’re reading this, I must now be dead. I don’t think there’s harm in telling you that the woman I hold dear in my heart was your mother, and you are that child.
Laurel stopped reading. Her hands trembled so badly she didn’t know if she could read on, but the desire to know the truth overrode her shock.
~ ~ ~
If Emily had stayed with me, things would have been different. Lavinia wouldn’t have had to turn to men for affection. I admit I was busy. My life was ranching. Perhaps I’ve been neglectful of you, but only because your mother wished for you never to know. She didn’t want me to interfere in your life, and I haven’t until now. I want to believe that as you read this, Emily and I are together and she knows why I’ve told you, why I’m giving you the responsibility of running the ranch and showing the new owner the ropes. None of the profits of the sale are to be passed to you. I know you’re a wealthy young woman in your own right. But Seth and Lavinia need the kind of life that the money can bring—if only they use it wisely.
I am giving you nothing of material wealth, Laurel. Once again you may think I’m not looking out for you. I assure that this time I am taking very good care of you, my daughter, in a way which won’t be clear at the present moment. Wait and have faith.
If you never believe anything else in your life, little Laurel, believe that I love you. Know that I’m giving you a gift beyond price.
~ ~ ~
The letter was signed in Arthur’s scrawly handwriting. The paper shook in Laurel’s hand. Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. She stared in numb disbelief at the wall. She was Arthur’s daughter and Lavinia’s half-sister! She couldn’t comprehend any of it. All these years she had lived a lie. An aching pain gathered in her breast, and she felt unable to breathe. In fact she wanted to scream, to lash out at Arthur Delaney for what he had done to her, at her mother for not telling her. But the more practical side of her nature reflected upon this deception and realized that the decision to have her grow up as Sylvester Delaney’s child had been the right one. She would never have met Tony otherwise.
Laurel groaned. Must all her thoughts, her feelings, be centered on Tony even at such a time as this? Rising from her chair, a vision in black taffeta, she faced Carson when he entered the room.
“You’ve finished reading Arthur’s letter, I see. I have a list of instructions he wanted you to follow pertaining to the ranch. Tom Evans left for San Antonio this morning with a recommendation for a new foreman.”
“Mr. Turner, you seem quite certain that I’ll accept the responsibility for the Little L.”
He cocked his head. “Haven’t you? I don’t see you swimming in a vale of tears, which leads me to think that Arthur made the right choice. You’re a level-headed woman, Laurel, and Arthur Delaney’s daughter. Don’t forget that part of this ranch could have been left to you, but Arthur had other reasons in mind when he sold it.”
“Yes, I understand all of that.”
“No, not yet you don’t.” Carson motioned to her to sit again. He took a place in the chair next to her and took her cold hand in his. “It’s time to discuss the running of the Little L until the new owner arrives. Are you up to it?”
Was she up to it? Probably not, but she felt she owed Arthur something for all the years he had loved her mother, for the years he must have loved a child he had never known. The responsibility of the ranch was his way of making amends with her. And wasn’t that the reason she had wanted to come to San Antonio in the first place?
Laurel straightened her spine and wiped away any hint of tears from her face. “I’m up to the task. Brief me on the Little L, Mr. Carson.”
~ ~ ~
Financial conditions of the Little L were far worse than Laurel had feared. The ranch hands hadn’t been paid in full for almost three months, and the little they had received had sent some of them away in search of a better opportunity. Some had stayed, and to pay them, Laurel dipped into her own funds, not expecting the new owner to reimburse her.
Creditors, when hearing that money again flowed at the Little L, arrived with outstretched palms, which Laurel promptly filled. The livestock had to be fed, the barn needed a new roof, and the bunk-houses could use a coat of paint. She was surprised that most of the stores in Fredricksburg had given Arthur credit, and apparently the store owners had held her father in high regard.