She had gone only a few steps when she realized that she’d left her scarf behind, and because it was one of her favorites she didn’t want to leave it lying about. Sighing, hoping Walker had gone, she turned back.
Wary of facing him again, she looked into the mirror before she turned the corner into the sunroom; she had already realized that from that specific angle, it was possible to see a large portion of the sunroom reflected in the mirror.
Walker was still in the room.
Amanda stopped, watching him without his awareness, feeling like an idiot for being reluctant to face him, but nevertheless unwilling to, at least until she’d spent some time practicing her indifferent attitude. He was standing by the rattan lounge where she’d been sitting, his brooding gaze directed downward.
He didn’t look very happy, she thought. In fact, he looked a bit grim. While she watched, he bent down and then straightened with her scarf trailing from his long fingers.
He folded the narrow oblong of silk a couple of times with slightly jerky movements, his fingers examining the texture of the soft fabric. Then he lifted his hand to his mouth and brushed the silky material back and forth across his lips. Paused. Inhaled slowly. His eyelids grew heavy, sensuous. A muscle flexed in his jaw.
Then he swore softly, dropped the scarf onto the lounge, turned, and left the room.
Amanda leaned her shoulder against the wall, staring at the bright reflection of a sunroom now empty of troublesome—and troubling—lawyers. She could hear herself breathing unevenly. Her legs felt unsteady and her heart seemed to be beating all through her body. When she lifted a hand to her cheek, her skin felt hot. And her hand was trembling.
Indifference.
“Now what?” she whispered.
At first it seemed that both Amanda’s misgivings and Walker’s warning about the evening would prove to be groundless. Everyone met in the parlor before supper, that habit being ingrained, and if nobody had very much to say, at least the occasional silences held little noticeable tension.
Walker sat beside Kate on one of the sofas and talked to her; she seemed more animated than usual— or else he was particularly entertaining this evening, Amanda decided. They certainly seemed pleased with each other’s company. However, since the lawyer talked in a low voice, she had no idea what the conversation was about.
As for herself, she listened to Reece painstakingly explain the duties and responsibilities of a vice president of a large and sprawling company, trying to look interested and aware that Sully watched them sardonically.
By the time Maggie came to tell them that supper was ready, Amanda was tempted to plead tiredness and escape to her room. But she couldn’t do that. It would have been cowardly. And she refused to give Walker the satisfaction.
Jesse’s place at the head of the formal dining table of course remained empty; the idea of somebody else sitting there, Amanda thought, hadn’t even occurred to the others. No one ever sat at the foot of the table, that place apparently being reserved for Jesse’s long-dead wife, Mary. So tonight, those present were ranged on either side of the long table—Amanda, Reece, and Maggie on one side while Walker, Kate, and Sully took up the other.
Amanda listened to a continuation of corporate tales from Reece through the soup and most of the entree, conscious of more mocking glances directed at her—this time from Walker. Sully and Maggie were talking about horses; Kate and Walker seemed to have run out of things to say to each other, and her earlier animation had vanished, leaving her with a faint look of strain in her lovely face.
When the dogs jumped up from their places behind Amanda’s chair and dashed toward the front of the house, their claws clicking on polished wood, nobody had to guess where they were going and why.
“Jesse’s home,” Maggie said. She leaned forward to look past Reece at Amanda, and added rapidly, “If he feels well enough, He’ll come in here—otherwise we’re to leave him alone. And don’t mention where he’s been.”
“Right.” Amanda was grateful for the explanation, and not terribly surprised by another of Jesse’s directives. At least twice a day, she seemed to hear “Jesse says” or “that’s the way Jesse wants it” about one thing or another. She wondered suddenly if the next master—or mistress—of Glory would exert such sweeping control over so many aspects of the family.
Jesse came into the room a moment later. He looked very tired and a bit pale, and seemed to move stiffly—but that was probably due as much to the long trip in the car as it was to his treatment. He went to the head of the table, touching Amanda’s shoulder and smiling a greeting at her, and nodding at the others. He didn’t sit down, but merely rested his hands on the back of his chair.
“I’ll have Earlene fix you a plate,” Maggie said, beginning to rise from her chair.
Jesse waved her back. “No, I’m not hungry.” He looked around the table, his tarnished-silver eyes unreadable. “I have something to tell all of you, and tonight’s as good a time as any.”
Amanda put her fork down and clasped her fingers together in her lap. She had never really believed in ESP, but in that moment she was absolutely positive she knew what Jesse was going to say. And she doubted she was the only one in the room gifted with clairvoyance, because the level of tension was suddenly so high the very air seemed to vibrate with it.
“Jesse—” Walker began.
“I’m glad you’re here, Walker. When You’ve finished, come into my study.”
“All right, but—”
“I want to get all the details worked out tonight.” He looked around the table with a little smile on his thin lips. “No reason to put it off now that Amanda’s come home. I’ve decided to change my will.”
Amanda closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them she fixed her gaze on her plate. She dared not look at the others. She wondered if any of them were breathing.
“Jesse,” Walker said slowly, “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t advise you to consider this carefully.”
“I have. I know what I’m doing, Walker, believe me.” He looked around the table again, and his smile turned satirical. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Sully ground out a vicious curse, shoved his chair back from the table, and stormed from the room. Jesse didn’t attempt to call him back; he merely laughed shortly, said again to Walker, “When you’re finished,” and left the room himself.
There was a long silence. Then Walker quietly said, “If you’ll all excuse me,” and left the table to follow Jesse to his study.
Kate was the next to leave. She said, “Excuse me,” very politely in her usual tranquil voice, and folded her napkin, and she didn’t hurry.
Reece, having said nothing, but white-faced and rigid, was right behind her.
Amanda looked up at last, and turned her head to look down the table at Maggie. She couldn’t read anything in the housekeeper’s undisturbed expression, but she couldn’t help feeling a pang of hurt when Maggie pushed back her chair and left the dining room without a word.
“Damn.” Amanda pushed away her plate and propped her elbow on the table.
Earlene came in from the kitchen and looked around the almost-empty room in surprise. “I fixed peach cobbler for dessert,” she said a bit aggrievedly. “What happened?”
Amanda looked at her and, bitterly, said, “Hurricane Jesse happened.”
Walker looked down at the legal pad filled with notes, then raised his eyes to watch Jesse pace the room restlessly.
“Have you got that?” Jesse demanded.
“I’ve got it.” Walker leaned back in the big leather chair behind Jesse’s desk and sighed. “But I have to say again, it’s a bad idea, Jesse. Can’t you at least wait for the DNA test results before you do this?”
“No. I don’t need some stranger peering into a goddamned test tube to tell me Amanda’s my granddaughter.”
“If you’d just wait—”
Quite suddenly, Jesse put his hands on the desk and leaned forward, glaring d
own at Walker. “Wait? Until when, boy? Until hell freezes over? Until you have every i dotted and every t crossed and feel sure You’ve satisfied a thousand conditions in all those moldy law books of yours?”
“Until we know,” Walker snapped.
“I know now!” Jesse all but roared it, then winced and caught his breath at an obvious stab of pain. In a quieter voice, he said, “Walker, I don’t have much time left. The doctors say … Christmas is the outside limit. Do you understand what that means? I’m marking off the days of my life in red ink, and there aren’t many left.”
Walker nodded slightly, and his own voice was calm again when he spoke. “I realize that. But I can’t help being concerned, Jesse—and not only because You’ve accepted Amanda so completely without enough evidence. It’s the rest of this, too.” He waved a hand over the legal pad of notes.
“Questioning my business judgment? You’ve never done that before. My mind’s still sound, I promise you.”
Walker watched Jesse sit down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I know your mind’s as good as ever. But I don’t believe You’ve thought this through. You haven’t changed the bequest to Maggie, but … Sully, Reece, Kate—what are they going to think? How are they going to feel?”
“they’re taken care of,” Jesse said flatly.
“They lose what matters to them most. You’ve left them with jobs, Jesse. With some money and a little land and a few shares of stock each. Sully gets to go on working with the horses, but he won’t own them; Reece can keep his job, but he has no real authority in the company and You’ve made sure he never will have; and Kate—”
“She has money from her mother,” Jesse said in a harsh voice. “Plenty of it. She can go someplace else if she wants. Or maybe Amanda will ask her to stay on here.”
“Listen to yourself,” Walker suggested, keeping his voice quiet with an effort. “Do you hear what you’re saying? Kate is your daughter. My God, she was born here in this house; even if Amanda is who she claims, she wasn’t. She spent summers here as a child, not her life. She’s afraid of horses, and I’m willing to bet that what she knows about furniture, textiles, or business of any kind would fit in a teacup.”
“it’s her birthright,” Jesse said.
Walker nearly swore aloud, frustrated by the old man’s inability to see beyond his precious Amanda. Then he said, “Okay, then consider this. Everybody in that dining room understood what you intended doing when you made your little announcement. They know you mean to leave virtually everything to Amanda.”
“So? Everything is mine to leave where I choose.”
“No argument. But you’re leaving Amanda to cope with a hell of a lot of resentment and bitterness, Jesse. Maybe you’ll be able to keep Sully and Reece in line, and God knows Kate’s never tried to fight you, but what about after you’re gone? Do you honestly think Amanda will thank you when she has to go to court to defend a very inequitable will?”
Jesse snorted. “There isn’t a judge in the state who’d set aside—”
Walker remembered that he had, in fact, told Amanda virtually the same thing. “If this division of property was anywhere near fair, I’d agree with you. But let’s suppose for a moment that the DNA tests come back either inconclusive or else support the likelihood of a false claim.”
“They won’t.”
“it’s entirely possible that the results will be inconclusive even if she is Amanda and you know it. What if they are? Kate, Reece, and Sully would have at least a decent claim against the estate, arguing the possibility of misrepresentation and fraud. Hell, I’d advise them to.”
“You—”
“I’m the Daulton family lawyer,” Walker said evenly. “And I’d look out for the interests of my clients. If Amanda isn’t who she claims to be, then she has absolutely no legal right to any part of your estate, and certainly not to the bulk of it. I’d take it to court. The judge might wonder if maybe you were sicker than you thought, Jesse, sick enough to have seen what wasn’t there. If maybe you just wanted to believe she was Amanda because you were running out of time.”
The old man was pale, but his tarnished-silver eyes were fierce. “You listen to me, Walker, and listen good. I want my will rewritten just the way I’ve told you, and I don’t expect it to take weeks to be ready for my signature. And I want to advise you that I’m going to write several letters of intent, which I will send to a few influential people in this state, outlining my reasons for disposing of my property as I have done, and warning them that some of my greedy relatives may intend to challenge my will—which upsets me greatly. And I’ll follow those letters with personal calls, just so everyone understands—and can swear in court—that I know what I’m doing. I also mean to talk to Judge Ferris and the sheriff at Amanda’s party next Saturday, along with as many friends and neighbors as possible, then and every other chance I get.
“The mayor, the city council, the doctors and nurses at the clinic in town—hell, even the librarian.” Jesse drew a harsh breath. “And I’ll tell them all the same thing, Walker. I’ll tell them that Amanda is my granddaughter because I say she is. I’ll tell them that I don’t give a damn if the blood in her veins turns out to be genetically ambiguous. She’s my granddaughter. And I intend to leave my property to her.”
“Jesse—”
“I’ll also be sure to tell them that there’s been no fraud or misrepresentation on Amanda’s part. She hasn’t asked me for a dime, Walker, and I don’t expect her to. She wouldn’t let me order a new car for her the way I wanted to—even when I told her I’d get her a temporary license until she got a chance to take the test, she said she didn’t need a car. She said she didn’t need charge accounts at any of the stores in town, or a checking account or charge card from the bank. Does that sound like a greedy bitch to you?”
“I never said that.”
Jesse ignored the statement. “So you just go ahead and advise the rest of them to fight the will. Good luck. In the meantime, I’ll expect it to be ready for my signature as soon as possible.” It was a dismissal, and it was final.
Walker was only too aware of the fact that the old man was tired and probably in pain, and that he simply would not listen to reason, at least not tonight. Maybe later he could be brought to see the unfairness —and the danger—of what he was doing.
Maybe.
Carrying the notes from the legal pad folded in his hand, Walker left the study and headed for the front door. He didn’t especially want to see or talk to anybody at the moment—and, naturally, the very last person he wanted to see was in the foyer, about to go upstairs.
“Walker?” Amanda’s voice was tentative.
He halted in the center of the room and stared at her, wondering if his face looked as stiff as it felt. “If you’re planning to celebrate,” he said coldly, “don’t. You’re still a long way from inheriting.”
“I didn’t want Jesse to change his will,” she said.
“Yeah, right.”
She took a hesitant step toward him, those haunting eyes of hers darkened, seemingly troubled, and Walker felt an unaccustomed flicker of fury. Christ, she looked so anxious, so damned distressed, and why did he believe it was genuine?
“He hasn’t changed it yet, has he?” she said. “I mean—it’ll take time to—”
“I’ll get started on it first thing Monday. It’s a complex document, with or without changes, so it will take at least a few days and probably a week to draw up,” Walker told her, his voice so harsh it hurt his throat. “And I intend to do everything I can to bring Jesse to his senses in the meantime. So don’t start counting the money just yet.”
He didn’t wait for a response, just went on through the foyer and out the front door. He didn’t slam it, but only because he controlled himself at the very last instant.
The Daulton family belonged to one of the local Baptist churches, but Kate, Amanda discovered, was the only family member who regularly attended services on Sunday. Jesse was generous
financially, being the first to contribute when there was a need for a new roof or a new bus, but he strongly disliked “being preached at” and so avoided services; Reece attended at Christmas and Easter, which he apparently considered sufficient to maintain his place in heaven; Sully never went and made no excuses about it; and Maggie was, rather surprisingly to Amanda, cynical on the subject of religion.
Amanda discovered all this from Maggie at breakfast Sunday morning, a meal only the two of them appeared for in the bright sunroom. And though Amanda hadn’t felt quite at ease with the housekeeper since their talk by the pool and had no idea how Maggie felt about Jesse’s announcement the night before, she kept her own manner as casually low-key as before.
“Jesse’s still asleep,” the housekeeper explained when Amanda asked. “Kate’s already gone; she’s helping in the church nursery before services. Sully’s working with one of his young horses, and Reece usually sleeps in on Sunday. But if you want to go to church, Amanda, Austin can drive you.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Amanda sipped her coffee and shrugged. “I’d feel odd walking in alone.”
Maggie nodded in understanding, but said, “I’m a bit surprised that Preacher Bliss hasn’t dropped in on one of his visits to get a look at you.”
“Bliss?”
“it’s a severe trial to him, but most people ran out of jokes years ago.”
Amanda couldn’t help but smile. “I imagine it would be difficult. Is he a good preacher?”
“He preaches good at parties and when he visits,” Maggie said. “I’ve never heard him in the pulpit. I’ve never had much patience with religion. Too many easy and asinine explanations for the whims of fate.”
“For instance?” Amanda asked curiously.
“Oh … that bad things happen for some ultimately good reason. When innocent people die or children are abused, there’s no ultimate good. I could never believe there was, so I could never believe in religion.” Maggie smiled suddenly. “However, I was saved and baptized as a girl.”