Savage Land (18 page)

'But he didn't do that,’ Coley cried, the hurt choking her breast.

'That's your heart speaking, not your head,’ Uncle Ben mocked cynically.

'Yes, yes, it is!’ Coley announced with a shrill cry, hopping agitatedly out of the chair to stand before him, her fists clenched in anger. ‘I love him. I love him so much that I wouldn't care if he had killed his brother. I would marry him tomorrow if he'd have me. If I thought for one minute that I could take him away from here, I'd do it. But no, you've got him so weighed down with the guilt of his brother's death that he's sentenced himself to remaining in your prison. He could no more run away from you and your horrible accusation than you could if you were in his place. Instead he's condemned himself to staying here with a grandfather who loathes him, who never misses an opportunity to call him a murderer to his face. How severe a punishment do you require? That bull out there, that poor, dumb animal, took your one grandson's life and permanently scarred the other when he attempted to save his brother. And you're still busy extracting another pound of flesh. I think you're despicable and hateful, and I don't see how anyone, least of all Jase, could care what you think. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't stay another minute in this house!'

'Stop it!’ Ben shouted, his face red with anger. ‘You don't even know what you're talking about. You weren't there the night Rick was killed. You didn't lie there holding him in your arms while his very life flowed out of him! How can you stand there and judge me when you don't even know what happened that night?'

'I know,’ Coley asserted viciously, shaking with rage. ‘I know. I had a very detailed account of what happened from Tony. He told me how Rick had gone into town and come home drunk. I know about how he used to play like a rodeo down in the bull pens. But that night his bravado had come from a bottle and his reflexes were non-existent. It was Rick who caused his own death. Sure, his screams brought Jase, but where were the rest of you? Were you so firmly entrenched in your snug little bed that you didn't hear your own grandson? By the time Jase got there, the damage had probably already been done and the outcome a certainty. But did your cowardly, murdering Jase wait for reinforcements? No, he jumped into the pen and had his cheek ripped open for the effort. So don't tell me that I don't know what happened.'

Coley's anger blinded her from seeing Ben's white face with the tinge of blue around his lips, as he stared blankly up at her.

'But Rick said—’ Ben's voice was faint and broken, ‘he kept crying out for Jase not to stand there, begging him to help. He died crying out for Jase.'

'Of course he would call out for him—after all, he was his brother, wasn't he?’ Coley cried bitterly.

'But why?’ Uncle Ben began. His face grew ghostly white as he whispered, ‘If it wasn't Jase, who was standing there?'

'I really don't know,’ Coley answered sarcastically before turning away from him. ‘It was probably a figment of his imagination.'

A convulsive jump from Ben's chair tamed her attention back to him. Her hand leapt to her mouth as she stared horror-stricken at the white face of her unconscious uncle slumped in his chair.

'Uncle Ben,’ she whispered, reaching out towards him, touching his arm hesitantly. ‘Uncle Ben!’ she screamed.

She realized he must have had a heart attack. ‘I've got to get help,’ she thought, and dashed madly out of the room calling frantically for Maggie and Aunt Willy. The housekeeper came flying out of the kitchen to meet Coley in the hallway where she managed to explain with very little lucidity what had happened. Maggie bustled back into the kitchen to the telephone extension, while Coley rushed back to the den.

Entering the room, she came to an abrupt halt. Ben wasn't in the wheelchair. It sat empty in front of her. A sound from the side of the room turned her horror-widened eyes from the chair. He was lying on the couch and Jase was standing over him beating his chest with his fist.

'Jase, no!’ Coley screamed, rushing over to throw herself on his back and tug ineffectually at him. ‘No, Jase, no! Don't kill him! Please, Jase, don't!'

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pulled at his arm, but he shrugged her off.

'Coley, stop it!’ he shouted, turning an angry and anxious face towards her. ‘His heart stopped. I'm trying to save him!'

A trembling relief gripped her legs as she reached behind her for a chair to support her. How blind she was! Jase was attempting a heart massage and she had just accused him of trying to murder his grandfather! Finding the chair, she collapsed with a sob, to sit with tears frozen on her cheeks as she watched his desperate attempts to save his grandfather. What if Uncle Ben died? It would be her fault. Oh, why had she had to quarrel with him? Why hadn't she remembered he was an invalid? She bit her lip to prevent her growing hysteria from escaping.

'It's my fault, Jase,’ she whispered, glancing beseechingly at the scarred face. ‘He's going to die, and it's my fault.'

'Don't go getting hysterical on me,’ he reprimanded sharply, not taking his eyes off his grandfather's face as be continued pounding on the unconscious body. ‘Go and make sure the doctor's on his way.'

Her head jerked back as if he had slapped her. What had she expected, sympathy? After all the things she had said to him, why had she expected sympathy from Jase? With shaking legs, she stumbled out, meeting Aunt Willy who was rushing into the room. Coley's pleading eyes as she glanced at her aunt must have effectively foretold the gravity of the situation because the older woman hurried to the couch.

Coley wasn't needed. No one needed or wanted her. She continued her stumbling pace to her room, her vision obscured with tears, and flung herself on to the bed to sob out her shame.

She didn't know how long she had lain there when she heard the door of her room opening. Uncle Ben was dead. They were coming to tell her that Ben was dead. She shut her eyes tightly, then opened them slowly to turn her head towards the footsteps that had come to a halt by her bed. A very weary and drawn Jase looked down at her, his eyes blank and his scar standing out vividly against his tanned checks.

'He's dead, isn't he?’ Coley cried, uttering the dreaded words for him. ‘And I killed him, I killed him!’ she finished, collapsing once again on to the bed in tears.

She felt the shifting of the mattress as he sat down beside her. She couldn't help cringing when she felt his hands grip her shoulders and pull her up to face him.

'He's going to make it, Coley,’ Jase said quietly, but firmly. ‘He's alive and he's going to make it.'

A lump of happiness gripped Coley's throat as the tears ceased to cloud her vision. She searched his face for the reassurances she needed. She bit her lower lip to swallow back the sob of happiness.

'Oh, Jase, if he had died,’ Coley said brokenly, the horror fading away as the relief washed in, ‘I could never have forgiven myself.'

'Don't think about it,’ Jase instructed, brushing away a teardrop on her cheek.

'But it would have been my fault,’ she insisted, attempting to explain the awful burden inside her. ‘We were arguing and I was accusing him of terrible things, and that's ... that's when it happened.'

His eyes narrowed at her words and what little softness that had been in his face vanished.

'I don't imagine I have to ask what you were arguing about, do I?’ he asked, rising from the bed as he spoke.

'It was about Rick,’ Coley admitted very quietly, bowing her head as she did.

'How many times have you been told to stay out of that?’ His face was turned away from her as he spoke, but Coley could hear the bitterness in his voice.

'I couldn't and I can't, Jase,’ she stated. ‘And you know why.'

'Well, you're going to have to.’ His gaze turned to her face. ‘Because the reason you thought you had doesn't exist.'

'I know,’ she replied, lifting her trembling chin proudly as she looked back at him. ‘I've destroyed with stupid angry words anything you might have felt for me. And this morning, my dumb inability to understand that you were trying to save Ben finished anything that might have remained. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to see you and your grandfather make peace. I don't think I'll ever be able to give that up.'

'Right now all I want you to concentrate on is making sure that Ben gets better,’ Jase said, his expression unchanged by her words, as if they were raindrops washing down a brick wall. ‘And so help me God, if I ever find you discussing me with him, I'll...'

His threat was interrupted by a knocking on Coley's door. He glowered briefly at her before opening it. Danny was standing anxiously outside. He glanced at Coley before speaking to Jase.

'He wants to see you,’ said Danny. With a hesitant glance at his sister, he added, ‘and Coley, too.'

Jase grimly took Coley by the arm and escorted her down the stairs to the hallway where a bespectacled and harassed-looking man stood waiting.

'He isn't good, Jason,’ the doctor said. ‘I'd like to move him, but I think the journey would do him more harm than good. He's asking for you and the girl, but I only want you to go in for a few minutes. If he begins to get agitated, I want you to leave immediately.'

'I thought...’ Coley began. ‘You said he was going to be all right.'

'I said he was alive,’ Jase corrected icily. He'll make it. He's a Savage.'

'He doesn't seem to care whether he makes it or not.’ The doctor glanced speculatively at Jase. ‘I sincerely hope you
will
change his mind.'

It was a very frightened and subdued Coley who accompanied Jase into the den and Uncle Ben's adjoining bedroom. Her legs were shaking terribly as she came to a halt beside Jase at the edge of the bed where Ben lay, the upper half of his body distorted by a portable plastic oxygen tent that encased it. She watched the massive chest rise and fall in its shallow breathing before her eyes moved up to the pale face, the shaggy brows accenting the hollows under his closed eyes. The iron-grey hair looked strangely silver and ethereal against the snow-white pillow as the head turned towards them and the eyelids opened to reveal two dull blue dots.

'Coley, my child,’ Ben whispered, a gnarled hand beckoning at her feebly to come closer and lessen his exertion of talking. ‘You're not to blame yourself for what happened.’ Coley nodded numbly, blinking valiantly to hold back the tears. ‘No matter what happens, you're not to blame, do you hear?'

'Yes, Uncle Ben,’ Coley answered hoarsely, and looked imploringly at Jase.

Ben was looking at him, too.

'I understand you saved my life,’ he whispered.

'I had to, Ben,’ Jase answered, his stone-like expression never changing. ‘I didn't know if you'd changed your will in my favour or not.'

'Jase!’ Coley gasped, staring up into his cold face before glancing terrifiedly back at Ben. There was the briefest flicker of a smile on his face and his eyes sparkled brightly for a minute.

'You'll never own the Slash S,’ Ben whispered. Then with a smile, he feebly waved a hand at the pair. ‘Go away now. Let an old man die in peace.'

'You're too mean to die this easy, Ben,’ Jase mocked.

Ben snorted slightly. ‘We'll talk later, son. I need to rest now.'

'Yes, Ben,’ Jase replied. His voice was sharp and clear in the otherwise silent room. ‘We will talk later. I mean to have the Slash S.'

He didn't wait for a reply from the stricken man, but immediately turned Coley around and marched her out of the room. His hand maintained a firm grip on her arm, keeping her by his side as he spoke again to the doctor, all the time refusing to meet Coley's wide terrified eyes staring into his face. She didn't hear what was said; she didn't care what was said. Why hadn't Jase comforted his grandfather? Why had he persisted in taunting him there, Coley thought with a lump in her throat, there, quite possibly on his deathbed? She knew the attack had frightened Ben a great deal. It should have been the time for a reconciliation between the two, but instead Jase had made it another warring ground.

Her arm was released as his hand moved to her back and began guiding her towards the stairs and then up them to her room. Still she couldn't speak or protest. She was a pawn being moved about to suit the needs of her king. They entered her room where Jase quietly but firmly closed the door.

'Now, to get back to what we were talking about,’ he said. His mouth was drawn into a grim line.

'Jase, why did you do that?’ Now that he was no longer touching her, her mouth found the words to speak again. ‘Why did you say those things to him?'

'Why do you think?’ Jase asked angrily, blue-white fires in his eyes.

'I don't know why. That's what I'm asking you,’ she retorted, hugging her arms about her in an attempt to ward off the chill his gaze was giving her. ‘He would have forgiven you. If you would have just asked, he would have forgiven you!'

'Maybe I didn't want his forgiveness. Maybe I didn't want to be a part of some deathbed scene,’ he said sharply. ‘No, I won't be a part of some last-minute reconciliation so that an old man can go to his Maker with a clean slate, one that he couldn't have lived with if he was still alive the next day.'

'Fine! Stick that stupid old pride in the way if you want to,’ Coley shouted, her voice trembling with her emotions. Only to have her breath taken away as Jase grabbed her and pulled her towards him in anger. ‘Did you have to be so cruel to him, Jase?’ she whispered. ‘Did you have to tell him the only reason you saved him was because you wanted the ranch? Couldn't you have spared him that?'