Twin of Ice

  The room was decorated with tall potted palms set before mirrors, and the mantel dripped with red roses and purple pansies.

  Houston moved to the large drawing room. This was where the close friends and relatives would mingle before and after the ceremony.

  Along the baseboards, doorways, and the ceiling had been tacked the delicate twining smilax vine. Yard upon yard of the vines graced the room, weaving around the fireplace, around windows.

  Set before each window were pots of ferns that filtered the morning sun and made lacy shadows on the floor. The hearth was draped with pink carnations, and entwined in the vines here and there were more carnations.

  As quickly as possible, Houston finished her inspection tour of the rest of the downstairs and hurried upstairs where the others waited.

  There were five hours before the ceremony, but Houston knew that there’d be a million and one last-minute details to take care of.

  During the last few days, she’d spent a great deal of time downstairs, but the upstairs was still new to her. The eastern branch of the U-shaped house was guest quarters, and today Blair would be dressing in one of the suites. The center section contained Edan’s rooms on one side of an aviary and hallway, and a nursery, bath, and nurse’s room on the other side.

  Next to the nursery was the long wing that belonged to Houston and Kane. He had a bedroom at the back, relatively small, but overlooking the gardens. Houston’s room, separated from his by a marble bathroom, was by far the largest, with pale panelled walls that were set with carvings of swags and garlands to outline the paintings that had yet to be hung.

  Next to her room was a large pink and white marble bath and a dressing area with walls covered in pink moiré, and beyond that a sitting room and private dining room for when she and Kane were dining alone.

  “I shall never get used to this house,” Tia said as she returned from an inspection of the rooms beyond the bedroom. “And look at this rooftop garden.”

  “Garden?” Houston asked, walking toward the double doors where Tia stood. She opened one and stepped outside into a lovely tangle of potted trees and flowers. Stone benches hid themselves amid the greenery. This had not been here the last time she saw the railed roof of the loggia that was outside her bedroom.

  “Look at this,” Sarah said, holding out a large white card that was attached to an enormous fig tree. Most of the plants were protected from the Colorado sun by an overhead lattice work that made a very pretty shade.

  Houston took the card.

  I hope you like it, I wish you all the best in your marriage.

  Edan

  “It’s a gift from Edan,” Houston said and felt that the garden was a symbol of her happiness today.

  Before Houston could say another word, the door burst open and Mrs. Murchison entered as if a storm were behind her.

  “There’s too many people in my kitchen!” she yelled toward Houston. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to cook with all of them in there. And Mr. Kane’s got too much to do already, what with losin’ a day’s work as it is.”

  “Losing . . . ” Meredith said, aghast. “Do you think Houston has nothing else to—?”

  Houston cut her friend off, Mrs. Murchison was under Kane’s spell and no doubt she’d defend the man to the death. “I’ll go down the back stairs,” Houston said, ignoring the fact that Sarah was unwrapping her wedding dress. It still needed pressing and there were last-minute stitches to be taken.

  Once she was downstairs, there were more catastrophes to be seen to. Several times, she heard Kane shouting from within his office, and someone pushed Houston inside the scullery when Kane stormed past on his way outside to the gardens. She envied him his freedom, and at the same time wished she could be with him. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow, they’d be able to walk together in the garden.

  It was only two hours before the service when she finally made it back upstairs.

  “Houston,” Opal said, “I think you should begin dressing now.”

  Houston removed her clothing slowly, thinking that when she disrobed the next time . . .

  “Who in the world is that woman?” Anne asked as Houston stepped into a chemise of cotton so fine that it was a mere whisper against her skin. The top had tiny, worked buttonholes that were inserted with pink silk ribbon, and the bottom was hand-embroidered with tiny rosebuds.

  “I have no idea,” Tia said, joining Anne to look over the railing of the garden, “but she must be the tallest woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Sarah began tightening the laces on Houston’s pink satin, hand-featherstitched corset. “I think I’m going to have to take a look,” Sarah said. “Maybe she’s one of Lee’s relatives.”

  “I’ve seen her before but I have no idea where,” Anne said. “How odd of her to wear black to a wedding.”

  “We have work to do,” Opal said in a way that made Houston’s head come up. “No one need interest herself in the private matters of any one of the guests.”

  Houston was quite sure that something was wrong. Ignoring her mother’s stern look, she went to the edge of the rooftop garden where Tia stood. Instantly, she knew who the woman was. Even from upstairs, she looked tall and elegant.

  “It’s Pamela Fenton,” Houston whispered, and turned back toward the bedroom.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  “Probably wearing black in mourning,” Sarah said, “because she lost him. Houston, which one of these petticoats do you want on first?”

  Mechanically, Houston continued dressing, but her thoughts were on the fact that Kane was in the garden and the woman he once loved was walking toward him.

  A knock on the door was answered by Anne. “It’s the man who works with Kane,” she told Houston. “He wants to see you, and he says it’s urgent and he has to see you immediately.”

  “She couldn’t possibly go . . . ” Opal began, but her daughter had already snatched a dressing gown from a chair back and was on her way to the door.

  * * *

  Kane was standing at the far edge of his garden, looking out over the city of Chandler, smoking one of his cigars, one foot on a stone bench.

  “Hello, Kane,” Pamela said softly.

  He waited a moment before turning to face her, and when he did look at her, his eyes were calm, not showing what he felt. He looked her up and down. “The years have treated you kindly.”

  “On the outside.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time so I’ll say what I came to say. I still love you; I’ve never stopped loving you. If you’ll walk away with me now, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

  Quickly, he took a step toward her but stopped and walked back. “No, I can’t do that,” he said quietly.

  “You can! You know you can. What do you care about, any of these people? What do you care about the people of Chandler? What do you care about . . . her?”

  “No,” he repeated.

  She moved so they were standing close. He was a couple of inches taller than she, but with her heels they were equal. “Kane, please, don’t make this mistake. Don’t marry someone else. You know you love me. You know I—.”

  “You love me so much that you left me alone,” he said angrily. “You married your rich lover and . . . ” He stopped, turned away from her. “I won’t leave with you today. I’ll not hurt her like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  Pam sat down on the bench. “You’re going to cast me aside merely because you don’t want to hurt Houston Chandler? She’s young. She’ll find someone else. Or is she in love with you?”

  “I’m sure you know the gossip. She’s still in love with Westfield, but she agreed to console herself with my money. Unfortunately, I go along with the money.”

  “Then why? Why do you feel obligated?”

  He looked at her with blazing eyes. “Have you forgotten me so completely? I keep my bargains.”

  His meaning was clear. “I thought you would have found out by now,” she said softly.

&n
bsp; “You mean found out why you left me alone with $500 to pay me for services rendered? I made an effort not to find out.”

  “When I told my father that he had to allow us to marry because I was carrying your child, he had me forcibly put on a train to Ohio. Nelson Younger owed my father a great deal of money, and the debt was paid when he married me.”

  “I was told—,” Kane began.

  “I’m sure you were told that I’d run away rather than marry you. No doubt my father said a few words about his daughter dallying with the stable lad, but she’d certainly not marry him. You were always so easy to get to. That pride of yours was so easily wounded.”

  Kane was silent for a while. “And the child?”

  “Zachary is thirteen now, a wonderful boy, handsome, strong, as full of pride as his father.”

  Kane stood quite still, looking out over the acres of garden.

  “Leave with me now, Kane,” Pam whispered. “If not for my sake, then for your son’s.”

  “My son’s,” Kane said under his breath. “Tell me, was this man you married good to ’im?”

  “Nelson was quite a bit older than me, and he was pleased to have a child whether Zach was his or not. He loved Zach.” She smiled. “They used to play baseball together every Saturday afternoon.”

  Kane looked back at her. “And Zachary thinks of this man as his father?”

  Pam stood. “Zach would learn to love you as I do. If you and I told him the truth . . . ”

  “The truth is that Nelson Younger was Zachary’s father. All I did was plant the seed.”

  “Are you rejecting your own son?” Pam asked with anger.

  “No, I’m not. You send the boy to me and I’ll take ’im. Sight unseen. It’s you, Pam, I’m rejectin’.”

  “Kane, I don’t want to beg. If you don’t love me now, you could learn to again.”

  He took both her hands in his. “Listen to me. What happened to us was a long time ago. I don’t guess I knew until now how much I’d changed. If you’d been here a few months ago, I’d have run with you to the altar, but it’s different now. Houston—.”

  She pulled away from him. “You say she doesn’t love you. Do you love her?”

  “I hardly know her.”

  “Then why? Why turn away a woman who loves you? Why turn your back on your own son?”

  “I don’t know, damn you! Why do you have to show up on my weddin’ day and make me miserable? How can you ask me to humiliate a woman who’s been so . . . kind to me? I can’t go off and leave her standin’ at the altar.”

  Tears began to run down Pam’s face as she sat down on the bench. “Nelson was kind to me also and loved Zachary so much. I tried to find you to tell you what’d happened, but you seemed to have vanished. Years later, when I began to see your name in the papers, I couldn’t find the courage to write—or maybe I couldn’t bear to hurt Nelson. When he died, I wanted to find you. I felt so guilty, like I was running from Nelson’s deathbed to my lover’s arms, but I’d waited so very long. Then Zachary became ill and, by the time he could travel to Chandler, you were engaged. I told myself it was over between us, but at the last minute, I had to see you, had to tell you.”

  He sat beside her, put his arm about her shoulders and pulled her head down. “Listen, love, you always were a romantic. Maybe you don’t remember our fights, but I do. The only place we were good together was in a haystack. Two thirds of the time we were mad at each other. Over the years, you’ve forgotten all the bad parts.”

  Pam blew her nose on a lace-edged handkerchief. “Is Miss Chandler any better?”

  “When I do somethin’ she doesn’t like, she hits me over the head with whatever’s handy. You always ran off and hid and worried whether I still loved you.”

  “I’ve grown up since then.”

  “How could you? You’ve lived with an old man that spoiled you, just like your father did. No one’s ever spoiled Houston.”

  Pam pulled away from him. “And is she good in bed? Is she also better at that than I am?”

  “I have no idea. There’s a little fire in her but she’s clumsy with it. I’m not marryin’ her for sex. That’s always available.”

  Pam put her arms around his neck. “If I begged you—,” she began.

  “It wouldn’t help. I’m gonna marry Houston.”

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Remind me. Let me remember.”

  Speculatively, Kane looked at her. Perhaps he wanted to know, too. He put his big hand to the back of her head and his lips on hers. It was a long kiss and he put all he had into it.

  And when he moved away, they were smiling at each other.

  “It is over, isn’t it?” Pam whispered.

  “Yes.”

  She stayed close to him. “All those years with Nelson, I believed I was in love with you but I was in love with a dream. Perhaps my father was right.”

  He removed her arms from his neck. “Any more talk of your father and we may come to blows.”

  “You aren’t still angry at him, are you?”

  “This is my weddin’ day and I want happiness, so let’s not talk about Fenton. Tell me about my son.”

  “Gladly,” Pam said and began talking.

  * * *

  It was an hour later when Pam left Kane alone in the garden to finish his cigar. When he was done, he flung the butt to the ground, looked at his pocket watch and knew it was time to return to dress for the wedding.

  He hadn’t taken but a few steps when he came face to face with a man who, if Kane had been able to see them together, he would have known was the image of himself in about ten years’ time.

  Kane and Rafe Taggert stared at each other silently, rather like dogs meeting for the first time. Immediately, they each knew who the other was.

  “You don’t look much like your father,” Rafe said with a hint of accusation in his voice.

  “I wouldn’t know. I never met the man—or any of his kin,” Kane answered, pointing out the fact that no Taggert had ever contacted him in all the years he was growing up in Fenton’s stable.

  Rafe stiffened. “I hear there’s blood on your money.”

  “I hear you don’t have any—bloody or not.”

  They glared across the space separating them. “You ain’t much like Frank, either. I’ll be leavin’ now.” He turned away.

  “You can insult me but not the lady I’m marryin’. You’ll stay for the ceremony.”

  Rafe didn’t look back, but he gave a curt nod before walking away.

  * * *

  “I want to talk to you,” Edan said from the doorway, his eyes grim.

  The many women around Houston began to protest, but she put up her hand and silently followed Edan. He led her into his bedroom.

  “I know this isn’t proper, but it’s the only place in the house that’s not crawling with people.”

  Houston tried to not let her emotions show because she had the distinct impression Edan was angry with her.

  “I know today’s your wedding, but I’ve got something to say. Kane knows all too well that the personal safety of the people connected to a man as wealthy as he is is often in jeopardy.” He looked at her. “What I’m saying is that Kane’s had me follow you a couple of times in the last week.”

  Houston could feel color leaving her face.

  “I don’t like what I’ve seen,” he continued. “I didn’t like that a young woman, unprotected, was going into a coal camp, but this Sisterhood of yours—.”

  “Sisterhood!” Houston gasped. “How . . . ?”

  Edan grabbed a chair and put it behind her.

  Feebly, Houston sat down.

  “I didn’t want to do it, but Kane insisted that I . . . ah, hide in a closet and be there during your tea party in case you needed protection.”

  Houston was looking at her hands and didn’t see Edan’s slight smile at the words “tea party.” “How much does he know?” she whispered.

  Edan took a seat across from her. “I was a
fraid of that,” he said heavily. “How could I tell him that you’re marrying him because of his connection to Fenton? You’re using him and his money to further your crusade against the evil of coal. Damn! but I should have known better. With a sister like yours who’d steal her own sister’s—.”

  Houston stood. “Mr. Nylund!” she said through clenched teeth. “I will not listen to you impugn my sister, and I have no idea what you’re talking about when you say Kane is connected to the Fentons. If you believe my purposes are evil, we’ll go now and tell Kane everything.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said, standing, grabbing her arm. “Why don’t you explain—?”

  “Don’t you mean that I should try to convince you that I’m innocent, that I’m not leading Kane Taggert down the aisle only to be slaughtered? No, sir, I do not answer such accusations. Tell me, did you plan to use your knowledge of me as blackmail?”

  “Touché.” he said, visibly relaxing. “Now that we’ve both shown our anger, could we talk? You’ll have to admit that your actions aren’t exactly beyond suspicion.”

  Houston also tried to relax, but it was difficult. She didn’t like to think of how he’d come to know of The Sisterhood.

  “How long have you been doing your Wednesday masquerades?” Edan asked.

  Houston walked to the window. On the lawn below were workers looking as if they were preparing for the siege of an army. She looked back at Edan. “What we women do, we’ve done for generations. The Sisterhood was founded by my father’s mother before there even was a Chandler, Colorado. We are merely friends who try to help each other and anyone else we can. Right now, our major concern is the treatment of the people in the coal camps. We do nothing illegal.” Her eyes fastened on his. “Nor do we use anyone.”

  “Why the secrecy then?”

  She looked at him in disbelief. “Look at your own reaction to your knowledge, and you aren’t even a relative. Can you imagine how the husbands and fathers would react if they found out their delicate women spent their free afternoons learning to drive a four-horse wagon? And some of us have . . . ” She stopped talking.

  “I see your point. But I see theirs, too. What you’re doing is dangerous. You could be—.” He stopped. “You say you’ve been doing this for three generations?”