Return to Oak Valley (19 page)

Alone in the studio, she wandered around, stopping now and then to stare out of the windows. What a disaster the day had been! If she'd known about the affair, she'd never have approached Sloan. Her mouth drooped. Especially not with money.
No wonder he tore up the check. He'd probably been furious. Try insulted, too
, she thought wryly. Knowing what she did now, she didn't blame him for tearing up the check—she'd have done the same thing. But why, she wondered bleakly, had he kissed her? Perhaps he'd been seeking a little revenge of his own?

And why had Josh started the affair with Nancy? He had to have known it could only end badly. Maybe he hadn't cared. She could almost see her brother deciding that an affair with Sloan's wife, bedding his enemy's wife, would be one more victory for the Grangers in their ongoing feud with the Ballingers. He certainly couldn't have foreseen Nancy's death, but maybe he'd been hoping for a violent confrontation with Sloan. She shook her head in mystification. To her, the crimes committed by her ancestors against the Ballingers and the Ballinger retaliations had been the stuff of legend—the stories made for interesting tales, but they had little to do with her life. For Josh it had been different. He believed in the feud. She'd once seen him cross the street to keep from meeting Sloan's father, Mark. And when he'd discovered her romance with Sloan…. She wiped back a tear. He'd been wonderful, comforting, helpful, but he had never understood how she had allowed herself to be taken in by a Ballinger. Probably, she decided moodily, because he had grown up steeped in the tradition of Granger hating Ballinger for no other reason than the fact that they were Ballingers. Had Josh embarked upon an affair with Sloan's wife intent upon perpetuating the bad feeling and mistrust that had started 150 years ago?

The thought made her ill, but she couldn't ignore it. Having an affair with another man's wife was tawdry enough, but to do it solely to cause trouble…Guilt flashed through her. How could she think such thoughts about Josh? He was her brother. She loved him. No, she had adored him, and here she was making him appear petty and vindictive…and he hadn't been. She couldn't deny that Josh had been impulsive, careless, sometimes selfish, but he'd also been generous, kind, and thoughtful.

But maybe he'd
really
loved Nancy. Maybe, right or wrong, Nancy Ballinger had been the one woman who had captured his heart. Maybe he couldn't help himself. Maybe the attraction between them had been too strong for either one of them to resist. Could he have been so despondent over Nancy's death four years earlier that he couldn't bear the loneliness anymore and had killed himself? It was feasible. And it wasn't as if he would have been obvious and open about his grief for another man's wife. Her brother had been a private man. Maybe he'd mourned and suffered in private until he couldn't stand the pain of Nancy's loss any longer and had ended it.

Feeling despondent herself, Shelly gave herself a shake. Whatever the reasons behind his death, it didn't change anything, and she wasn't doing herself any good standing around brooding about it. There was something she could do, however, and with a determined step she walked to the wall phone she'd had installed in the studio.

A telephone call to the bank in Ukiah put her mind at rest. A new cashier's check could be issued—in a few weeks—and a stop payment would have to be put on the original check. She did that and putting the phone down, felt a little better.

How she was going to get Sloan to keep the money still remained a problem, but her biggest worry about replacing the check had been relieved. And, she thought with a twist to her mouth, she had a little time to come up with a solution.

She had just turned away when the phone rang. Answering it, her mouth went dry when Sloan's voice came over the line.

“Shelly, is that you?”

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her actions. “Yes, it is,” she said, hating the breathless note in her voice.

“I got your number from information,” he said. “Glad that it wasn't unlisted. Listen, I want to apologize for what happened today.”

Shelly's mouth fell open, and she stared at the phone as if it had turned into a fudge cupcake. “You do?”

Sloan laughed, albeit wryly. “Yeah, I do. Look I appreciate the offer, but the deal was between Josh and me. Leave it alone.”

Her fingers tightened on the receiver. “So you can continue to think that the Grangers are all crooks?”

He sighed. “I never thought that all the Grangers were bad…just certain ones, and you can't blame me for that—there are certain Ballingers that
your
family doesn't hold dear to their hearts either.”

It was a valid point and an old argument between them. Even at the height of their love affair, they'd disagreed about whose family was to blame for all the bad feelings that existed. A sharp reply was on the tip of her tongue when she discovered that she didn't have the taste for continuing to fight ancient history anymore.
Maybe I've grown up
, she thought ruefully.

Relaxing slightly, she said, “OK, I'll agree to that.”

“I beg your pardon? You're not going to take up the fight and come after me with tooth and nail?”

Smiling, she said, “Nope. Not this time.” It seemed so normal to be teasing with him that Shelly found herself slipping into the easy familiarity that had once existed between them. “I'll concede that there were wrongs on both sides. Happy?”

“Stunned is more like it.”

She laughed. “Well, enjoy the moment. It won't last.”

“Do you realize,” he said softly, “that we've been talking together for almost a minute and neither one of us has slammed down the phone?”

“Must be a record for us,” she muttered. She had always found him hard to resist, and that seemed to be one thing that hadn't changed.

“You're wrong there. I seem to recall several occasions that we got along for hours at a time without arguing….”

“That was a long time ago, Sloan. Don't go there.”

He hesitated. “All right,” he said slowly. “In the interest of our continuing, uh, peaceful relationship, I'll let it alone. For now.”

There was almost a threat in those last words, and Shelly frowned. Deciding to get out while they were still treating each other like humans, she said politely, “Thank you for calling. And I accept your apology.”

Sloan chuckled. “My, my, how formal we've suddenly become—but I guess it's better than having you throw knives at me.”

“Good-bye, Sloan,” she said firmly, and hung up the phone.

She stood there staring at the phone for a few minutes after she'd hung up on him. Wow. Who would have thought it? Sloan had actually called her and apologized. Even more amazing, they'd had a conversation, sort of, that hadn't ended in anger and recriminations. Of course, it didn't change her objective, she reminded herself. She
was
going to pay him for that right-of-way, but his telephone call left her feeling optimistic. They'd talked like two reasonable, adult human beings. Wow. Would miracles never cease?

Her spirits lifting, she left the studio, and a discreet rumble of her stomach reminded her that she was hungry. Wandering into the kitchen she wasn't surprised to find Maria serving Acey a cup of coffee. Greetings were exchanged and Shelly raided the refrigerator to find the makings for a sandwich. Maria reseated herself at the end of the table and just watched, but Shelly could tell she itched to push her aside and make the sandwich for her. They'd had a few mild tussles during the weeks since she'd come back home, but Shelly had gently got across her point that Maria didn't have to wait on her. Difficult to do without making Maria feel pushed aside and unwanted, but she'd managed, so far, to walk that fine line between doing for herself yet not offending Maria's sensibilities.

Shortly, a tuna, dill pickle, onion, and lettuce sandwich sitting before her, she took a place at the table across from Acey, who was eyeing her sandwich with revulsion. She grinned at him and took a bite.

“I offered to make one for you,” she said after she swallowed that first tasty bite.

“I'm a baloney man, myself,” he said. “The only thing from the sea that I eat is oysters, remember?”

Maria snorted, and Shelly rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, Acey,” Shelly said, “give it a rest. We know how virile and sexy you are—you tell us every chance you get.”

“Man can never be too sure the message is getting across,” Acey said with a twinkle. “Don't forget advertising is what it's all about these days. And I believe it definitely pays to advertise.”

Maria looked innocent. “
Sí
, this is true,” she said straight-faced, but Shelly caught the teasing gleam in her dark eyes, “but I have also heard it told that there is much false advertising these days. The television and magazines and radio are always trying to sell us things that turn out to be duds.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Shelly piped in, laughter not far away. “Lots of advertising wasted on products that don't work.”

Acey put his cup down and stood up. With great dignity, he said, “I'll have you know, I ain't no ‘dud.’ And I don't stay where I'm being insulted either.”

Maria gasped, and Shelly's mouth fell open. Before their astonished gazes, he turned on his heels and marched out of the kitchen.

“Well, what was that all about?” Shelly asked bewildered. “Acey's the biggest tease I know, and he's always taken as good as he gets. He
likes
the zingers sent his way. I can't imagine what set him off today.” Shelly took another bite of her sandwich. “Something sure didn't sit well with him.”

“You don't think we hurt his feelings, do you?” Maria asked, her expression anxious.

“I hope not—I wouldn't hurt his feelings for the world. Surely he knows we were only teasing?”

“It's very strange. I have never known him to act in such a manner. Nick always gives him a bad time, calling him ‘grandpa’ and ‘old man’ and teasing him, and he never takes offense.”

Shelly shrugged, thoroughly mystified by Acey's abrupt departure. Finished with her sandwich and the glass of milk she'd poured, she carried the plate and glass to the dishwasher. Thinking to find out what was bothering Acey, she hesitated. Cutting her eyes in Maria's direction, she considered the situation. This was too good an opportunity to miss.

She sat down across from Maria and taking a deep breath, she said, “Speaking of Nick….”

Maria's face closed up, and she started to move from the table. Shelly's hand closed around her wrist, and she said, “Don't you think we should talk about Nick—the problem isn't going to go away.”

“There is no problem,” Maria said fiercely, jerking her arm from Shelly's grasp.

“That's not true, and you know it. Doesn't it bother you that Nick, your son, is suffering? You could end it by telling what you know.”

Maria stood up, her face dark and angry. “This is none of your business! How dare you pry and probe. Leave it alone.”

“Maria, we have to talk about it,” Shelly said carefully.

“No, we do not.” Maria leveled a cold look at Shelly. “I have nothing to say, and I will not say anything. You keep digging away at this, and I shall leave. I repeat, it is none of your business.”

“What about Nick? Doesn't he deserve to know the truth?” Shelly said hotly, frustrated and angry at Maria's stubborn refusal.

Maria drew herself up stiffly. “Nick is none of your concern. He is
my
son, and I will not have him hurt.”

Stalking away, Maria dragged on a sweater hanging by the door and said, “I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow.”

She exited the door, slamming it behind her.

Shelly winced. It seemed to be her day to upset people. Deciding that at least she'd try to make her peace with Acey, she got up and walked out of the kitchen.

Shelly left the house and walked out to the barn behind the house. Acey had worked for the Grangers off and on as long as she could remember. He had a small home and about a hundred acres of land at the edge of the valley, where he ran some cattle of his own, but she remembered he used to spend most nights sleeping in the small upstairs apartment in the barn. It was, he'd declared, his home away from home, and Shelly had grown up with Acey always somewhere nearby. He was an excellent cowboy and while he had his own herd and occasionally worked for other ranchers, the Grangers had first call on his time and loyalty. Josh said Acey should have retired years ago, and, in fact, Acey had been receiving a small annuity for about eight years from the Granger Cattle Company. But the old cowboy persisted in hanging around, always ready to lend a hand and give some blistering advice if needed—sometimes when not needed.

Her feet dragging, Shelly approached the barn. Acey had commandeered the apartment since she returned home, telling her that he didn't like the idea of her being alone at night in the house up here. She hadn't argued with him, liking the knowledge that he was somewhere around after Maria went home about two o'clock most afternoons. The apartment had originally been built as a place to stay when watching over or dealing with sick stock, but over the years it had become known simply as “Acey's pad,” since he used it almost exclusively. It consisted of a large room with a kitchenette and cabinets in one corner, complete with an apartment-sized refrigerator and stove, and off to one side, a bathroom not much bigger than the closet right next to it. She remembered from her youth that the floor was covered by a hideously colored vinyl of uncertain vintage; the walls were knotty pine paneling; one window, over the sink, gave a view of the back of the house, the other, inside the barn, overlooked a large stall and the barn alleyway. A red Formica-topped table with four matching chrome chairs, a hide-a-bed in dark blue Naugahyde, a small square pine table with a nineteen-inch television, and a couple of cheap end tables with lamps that didn't match comprised the furnishings. It was certainly less than grand, but Acey always said the apartment in the barn suited him to a T. No mess, no fuss. He liked it that way, he'd said more than once over the years.

Climbing the stairs to the apartment, Shelly considered ways to ease into the conversation. Standing outside on the tiny landing before the shut door, she made a face. No easy way to handle this. She'd just have to come right out with it.