Twin of Fire Read online

  Suddenly, she sat upright. Alan! She’d completely forgotten that she was to meet him at four o’clock yesterday. She’d been so worried about Houston, about how her sister had made a fool of herself over those rings, and then the call from Lee had come, and she’d sensed he was just asking her to go with him out of a sense of duty. She had never dreamed that she’d be away all night.

  Susan came to tell her that the family would be leaving for church soon after breakfast and that Mr. Gates had requested that she go with them. Blair hopped out of bed and hurriedly dressed. Perhaps Alan would be at church and she could explain that she’d been away working.

  Alan was there, three pews ahead of them, and no matter what Blair did, he wouldn’t look around after his initial glance. To make her feel worse, he was sitting next to Mr. Westfield and Nina. After church, Blair managed to get near him for a few minutes in the little yard outside the building.

  “So, you were out with Westfield,” Alan began the moment they were alone. His eyes were angry.

  Blair stiffened in spite of her good intentions to be humble. “I believe you were the one to agree to a competition, not me, and part of the arrangement was that I not refuse Leander’s invitations.”

  “All night?” He managed to look down his nose at her even though they were nearly the same height.

  Blair at once felt defensive. “We were working, and we got caught in the midst of a range war and Leander says that—.”

  “Spare me his words of wisdom. I have to go now. I have other plans.”

  “Other plans? But I thought maybe this afternoon—.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow. That is, if you think you’ll be home.” With that, he turned on his heel and left her standing there.

  Nina Westfield came by to tell her that Lee had to work at the hospital the rest of the day. Blair climbed into the carriage with her mother and stepfather and was only vaguely aware that Houston wasn’t with them.

  At home, Opal was fussing about the dining room, arranging flowers on the table, setting it with the best tall silver candelabra.

  “Are you expecting company?” Blair asked idly.

  “Yes, dear, he’s coming.”

  “Who is?”

  “Houston’s Kane. Oh, Blair, he is such a lovely man. I just know you’re going to love him.”

  Minutes later, the door opened and Houston came in leading her big millionaire by the arm, as if he were a prize piece of game that she’d just bagged. Blair had first seen him earlier in church, and she admitted that he was good-looking —not as handsome as Leander, or even Alan—but more than presentable, if you liked that overly muscular type.

  “If you’ll sit here, Mr. Taggert, next to Houston and across from Blair,” Opal was saying.

  For a moment, everyone just sat there looking at their plates or about the room, no one saying anything.

  “I hope that you like roast beef,” Mr. Gates said as he began to carve the big piece of meat.

  “I’m sure to like it better’n what I usually get, that is, until Houston here hired me a cook.”

  “And who did you hire, Houston?” Opal said, with a bit of ice in her voice, reminding her daughter that lately she’d been leaving the house, and been gone for hours, with no one knowing where she was.

  “Mrs. Murchison, while the Conrads are in Europe. Sir, Mr. Taggert might have some suggestions for investments,” she said to Mr. Gates.

  From then on, Blair thought, there was no stopping the man. He was like an elephant in the midst of a flock of chickens. When Mr. Gates asked him about railroad stock, Taggert raised his fist and bellowed that railroads were dying, that the whole country was covered with railroads and there was no more decent money to be made in them—“only a few hundred thousand or so.” His fist came down on the table and everything—including the people—jumped.

  Compared to Taggert’s temper and loudness, Gates was a kitten. Taggert brooked no disagreement whatever; he was right about everything, and he talked in terms of millions of dollars as if they were grains of sand.

  And if his bellowing and arrogance weren’t enough, his manners were appalling. He cut his slice of roast with the side of his fork, and when it went sliding across the table toward Blair, he didn’t even pause in telling Gates how to run the brewery as he pulled the meat back onto his plate and kept on eating. Ignoring the three vegetables that were served, he piled about two pounds of mashed potatoes onto his plate and emptied the gravy boat on top of the white mountain. Before he was finished, he’d eaten one half of the ten-pound roast. He knocked over Houston’s teacup, but she just smiled at him and motioned for the maid to bring a cloth. He drank six glasses of iced tea before Blair saw Susan secretly pouring his glass from a separate pitcher. Blair then realized that Houston had arranged for Taggert to drink dark beer with ice in it. He talked with his mouth full and twice had food on his chin. Houston, as if he were a child, touched his hand, then his napkin, which was still folded beside his plate.

  After a while, Blair stopped trying to eat. She didn’t like food flying toward her or the silverware jumping or the way that loud, overbearing man monopolized the conversation. Conversation ha! He might as well have been giving a speech.

  The worst part was the way Houston, her mother and Gates hung on his every word. You would have thought his words were gold. And perhaps they were, Blair thought with disgust. She’d never thought much about money, but perhaps money was all-important to other people. It certainly seemed to be so important to Houston that she was willing to subject herself to this awful, hideous man for the rest of her life.

  Blair grabbed the candelabra before it fell over, as Taggert reached for more gravy. Cook must have made it in a wheelbarrow, she thought.

  Just then, Taggert paused long enough in his proposal of allowing Gates to buy in on a land sale to glance at Blair. Suddenly, he stopped talking altogether and pushed back his chair.

  “Honey, we better be goin’ if you wanta get to the park while it’s still light.”

  Heaven help, Blair thought, that he should have manners enough to ask if anyone else was finished eating. He was ready to leave, and he autocratically demanded that Houston leave with him. Dutifully, Houston followed him.

  “Why, Lee,” Opal said with a smile, twisting her neck around to look up at him, making the little oak rocker creak. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She took a closer look at him. “You look happier than you did a few days ago. Has something happened?” There was a hint of an I-told-you-so look on Opal’s face.

  Lee gave her a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down in the chair next to her on the back porch. He was tossing a big red apple back and forth in his hands. “Maybe it’s not that I want your daughter, it’s that I want you for a mother-in-law.”

  Opal kept on sewing. “So, today, you think there’s a chance that you’ll get my daughter. If I remember correctly, the last time we talked, you were sure you could never win her. Has anything changed?”

  “Changed? Only the entire world.” He bit into his apple with gusto. “I’m going to win. I’m not only going to win, but it’s going to be by a landslide. That poor kid Hunter doesn’t have a chance.”

  “I take it you’ve found the key to Blair’s heart, and it isn’t flowers and candy.”

  Leander smiled, as much to himself as to her. “I’m going to court her with what she really likes: gunshot wounds, blood poisonings, respiratory infections, amputations, and whatever else I can find for her. She’ll probably love spring roundup around here.”

  Opal looked horrified. “It sounds dreadful. Must it be so drastic?”

  “As far as I can tell, the worse the going is, the better she likes it. As long as somebody’s there to make sure she doesn’t get in over her head, she’ll be fine.”

  “And you’ll be the one to take care of her?”

  Leander rose. “For the rest of her life. I believe that’s the sound of my loved one now. You’ll see, in less than a week, she’ll be runni