The Outsider (19 page)
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer, Mother. You come into my home—uninvited; you make unpleasant and unfounded insinuations about my wife, the woman I love—”
“Does she love you?”
Again he struggled for a response, but before he could give it, she held up her hand.
“Don’t bother to make up some fairy tale. I can see the truth.”
He stared at his plate. For a moment the barriers came down.
“Why did she marry you, if not for love? Because of the child?”
He glanced up, his expression complex. “Wouldn’t that be reason enough?”
“Is
it?”
He didn’t reply, and after a minute, she knew he wasn’t going to.
“No man wants to admit a mistake to his
mother, but that’s what you made when you came down here, when you took this woman in. Don’t be so stubborn that you’d rather ruin the rest of your life than realize your father was right.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“What would you call it? You’ve put all your money and efforts into a bank that people won’t use. You marry a woman who may or may not be having your child, who doesn’t love you. You refuse help from those who do care and totally refuse to accept the facts.”
“And what facts are those, Mother?”
She should have been alerted by the softness of his voice, by the sudden stillness of his expression.
“That you may never walk again. Your doctor tells me you push yourself, that you
torture
yourself daily, most likely for no reason. That this banking venture is going to fail and if you continue, someone will probably succeed in killing you the next time. That this woman who has bewitched you will never make you a good wife and will never make you happy.”
“And I can save myself from all that by going home with you.”
“Yes.”
“By leaving these people, some of whom depend on me for their very lives. By confining myself to a wheelchair, where I should be grateful for a life in which I have no freedom. By leaving a woman I’ve pledged myself to, to whom I’ve promised my love and loyalty for as long as I live.
To break my vow that I’d take care of her and her child so they’d never have to fear anything or
be alone. Why didn’t I see how simple it all was before? Is that why my father didn’t come? Because he knew I’d fold and come whimpering back with you the minute you pointed out those basic truths?”
“No. Your father didn’t come because he knew you wouldn’t change your mind. He knew that no matter how bad things were for you here, you wouldn’t abandon them because you’d made a commitment. He knew you’d drag yourself on hands and knees if you had to in order to make things work. And that you’d succeed, because you’re his son, and no matter how it breaks his heart, he’s too proud of you to beg the way I just did. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think your sister and I should begin packing to go home.”
She paused, giving him the chance to stop her, but when he didn’t, she rose with a quiet dignity and left the room … leaving Dodge to chafe at her words, and to wonder at their truth.
They left the next morning, and he didn’t try to convince them to stay. There was no comfort in their presence when he knew they thought he was wrong in what he was doing, when he knew they were waiting for him to fail.
It was always hard to say good-bye to the children. They hugged him in genuine regret, not understanding any of the darker undercurrents between their elders. That was the beauty of children: their simplistic vision.
“Good-bye, Uncle Tony.”
“Will you come see us soon, Uncle Tony?”
“I’ll try. Maybe when I have a new little cousin for you to meet. How would you like that?”
“A baby? When?”
“In the spring.”
“Will you bring Aunt Starla, too? She’s pretty.”
Dodge smiled. “Yes, of course I will.” But when his gaze lifted, he saw the doubt in both his mother’s and his sister’s eyes. “She’s my wife.” He said that to clarify everything else.
His sister embraced him tightly, wetting his cheek with her unexpected tears to make him feel churlish in his behavior.
“Give my best to Frank.”
“We love you, Tony. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.”
“Be happy,” was all his mother would say as they held one another.
If only he knew how to effect that miracle.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t a better visit and that Starla couldn’t be here to see you off.”
His mother had no comment, for which he was grateful. Instead, she said, “Do come and visit us. Everyone loves an excuse to fuss over a new baby—a new Dodge.”
Suddenly close to tears himself, he managed a gruff, “I promise,” as they stepped up onto the train. He waited on the platform until the sight of them waving was obscured by swirls of soot, then distance. A sense of loneliness surrounded him like that hazy steam swallowing up the familiar.
He went to work, not that there was much to do except sort through files concerning people who’d never seen fit to step inside the bank. With each
folder he set aside as inactive, the tide of futility increased, until he was dangerously close to going under. He wasn’t providing a needed service with the Pride County Bank. He was holding onto an institution that had died with its founder. Reeve had been wrong to bring him down to save something that didn’t want saving. Was he equally wrong in trying to make a place for himself among this foreign and hostile population?
Deciding no harm would be done if he closed up early, he was securing the front door lock when a quiet step behind him alerted him that he wasn’t alone. He turned to face a hulking figure he remembered as one of the men who’d accosted Starla on the sidewalk. There was no fondness in the man’s blunt greeting.
“Mr. Fairfax wants to see you.”
“Tyler knows where to find me.”
“Not Tyler; Mr. Fairfax. Up at the house. You’re to come with me.”
An invitation or a command? Dodge didn’t worry over semantics. A face-to-face with Cole Fairfax suited him just fine.
How else could he get to the truth?
The room smelled like death.
Stepping inside the men’s parlor at Fair Play took Dodge back to the horrible memory of coming upon a battlefield where a change in weather and desperate circumstances had prevented the burial of the dead. That putrid odor of what had once been life returning to the ground in a state of decay was something one never forgot.
Cole Fairfax was dying—not a pleasant death, but one of slow decline by degrees. Like most powerful men used to having command over everything shy of nature itself, he didn’t like losing. It made him short tempered, and, Dodge guessed, dangerous, without the threat of consequence to hold him in check. Once a man knew he was dying, what reason did he have for restraint?
“Mr. Fairfax? I’m Hamilton Dodge.”
The old man gave him a narrow study that concluded with a wry smirk. “You’re Lieutenant Dodge? After the thrashing you gave my men, I was expecting someone more … formidable.”
Dodge shrugged.
“Come in and close the door.”
Shutting himself in a stagnant tomb held no appeal, but Dodge did as requested and moved further into the shadows stretching across the interior. With all the draperies drawn to seal out the light, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. Dodge could make out the slumped figure of a man settled into a huge thronelike chair. Slowly the sickness-ravaged features came into focus. Dodge held tight to his reaction. The man was little more than an animated cadaver, with fever-bright eyes set in the midst of sunken flesh and prominent bone, but those eyes burned with shrewd intelligence … and with smoldering hostility.
“I understand you married my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A Northern boy. What are you, some sort of banker?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You get around pretty good for a man who should be dead.”
That comment tore away the mask of ignorance. Cole Fairfax knew everything about him.
“Some folks are harder to kill than others. You should appreciate that, Mr. Fairfax.”
The old man gave a rusty-sounding laugh. “Yes. Some of us don’t have the God-given sense to let go.” His features hardened. “How is it that you have set up housekeeping with my Starla and now is the first time we’ve met each other face to face? Don’t you Yankees have any respect for family?”
“My highest priority, sir. It was my understanding that you were a recluse and not given to accommodating
audiences. I came to pay my respects before but wasn’t allowed inside.”
“Well, you’re here now. You’d best be givin’ me a reason why I should be handing the future of my little girl over to a stranger’s hands.”
“I think it’s a bit late to justify what’s already taken place. Starla and I are man and wife.”
“Don’t you think I could change that state of affairs, boy? You don’t know who you’re dealin’ with, do you?”
“On the contrary. I think I know you quite well.”
“Then you know I don’t like folks who take what’s mine.”
“I didn’t take her from you, Mr. Fairfax. She’s still your daughter. And now she’s my wife as well.”
“Your wife.” Something dark and ugly moved through those glittering eyes. “How can you make such a claim when she belongs here, in this house, with me? You know nothing about her.”
“I know that she said yes and we are married.”
“The girl’s incapable of making those kinds of decisions for herself. She’s of a delicate nature and fragile mind, like her mother before her. What she wants one week won’t do the next. She isn’t the type to commit to any one thing or any one man. It’s a flaw, a fatal flaw. So you can see why I’ll do whatever needs be done to keep her here, safe at home, where she can be cared for properly and guided away from such ill-advised fancies.”
“I hardly think our marriage can be considered an ill-advised fancy.”
Fairfax smiled, an expression so filled with smug certainty that Dodge knew a shiver of alarm. “So she’s been faithful to you. A good and dutiful wife in every way.”
“Yes. In every way.”
Fairfax stared at him, anger congealing to make fiery blotches in his sunken face. “You are a liar, sir. What you have is no consummated marriage, but a sham, a deception, to steal a daughter from her father’s arms. Is it our money you want? The influence of our name? You’ll not have them, not while I live.” He must have seen Dodge’s expression flicker, for his smile turned grim as he vowed, “And I do plan to live longer than you. Long enough to bring Starla back where she belongs.”
“Starla belongs with me, by her choice and the laws of Kentucky. What you want, Mr. Fairfax, doesn’t matter. I had hoped we might get along, but I can see now that isn’t going to happen. So let
me
tell
you
how it’s going to be. Starla is my wife, and that’s a fact you can’t change, whether you like it or not. Your relationship with your daughter is between the two of you, but I won’t let you distress her, especially not now, while she’s carrying my child.”
That struck the old man like a hard blow to the gut. He wheezed, choking on his shock and outrage. “My little girl will raise no bastard pup of yours. Do you think because you’ve bedded her you’ve won her away from me? Think again.
Think again!
”
Spittle flew from the old man’s lips as they curled back in a snarl. Then an unnatural calm
claimed him, settling him back in his chair with a frightening surety.
“You’ve won nothing, Lieutenant. Starla will be back here where she belongs, with her family. She tried to run away before, but this is her home and she’ll never leave it. If you try to stand in the way, I’ll see you buried. Have I made myself clear?”
“As glass, sir.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think we have an understanding quite yet. But we will. Soon.”
Dodge angled around on his crutches, moving with all the fierce dignity he could manage in his refusal to show intimidation. Leaving the stale room behind, he drew a deep breath of fresh air in the hall, then heard a low chuckle.
“So how did you an’ my daddy get along?”
“He’s a crazy son of a bitch. Who the hell does he think he is?”
Tyler’s smile never faltered. “He thinks he’s God, Yank, and here in Pride, you’d be a fool to doubt him.”
God
. Dodge slammed his desk drawer shut, still seething over the interview of the day before. Cole Fairfax was a devil if ever he’d seen one—a dark demon used to getting his way through whatever evil proved necessary.
Dodge wasn’t afraid of him, but he was understandably cautious.
He understood small town hierarchies. Even the craziest bastard could rule with impunity, provided he had enough money. And the Fairfaxes had plenty. Was he being careless to believe himself
beyond the old man’s reach? Was he being blindly arrogant to think he could keep Starla safe, even after her own brother claimed no one could protect her?
And from what?
He brooded over that question, wondering if the smartest thing to do would be to grab up his wife the minute she returned, and to move the both of them up north, where he’d have a guaranteed job. If she came back.
But that would be running away, admitting that he’d let a dying old man’s threats scare him off what he wanted.
Knowing he couldn’t keep Starla from danger kindled a slow-burning fear in his belly, one fueled by righteous anger.
Where was she?
Missing her warred with the logic saying she was safer staying away. At least until he was stronger, until he could cast off the crutches and stand as a man to command the respect owed a man. He flexed his knees, gritting his teeth. Just when was that going to be?
The front door of the bank opened, announcing a customer. Determinedly Dodge set aside his personal turmoils to adopt a professional face.
“ ‘Afternoon, ma’am. How can I help you?”
He didn’t know her name, but he could guess her occupation. She was probably much younger than she looked, having been aged by long hours and a hard life. Unnaturally blond hair topped a garishly made-up face and a gown too vulgar for daylight. She gave him an uncertain smile.