Texas Born (10 page)

Amanda sensed his misgivings. She took his
arm to turn him around and leave—not that they had anyplace else to
go.

He looked at her coldly, his pale eyes
glittering like steel behind his wet, round wire-rimmed glasses.
'You're Elspeth,' he said quietly, 'and don't fergit it. That's all
that matters. Answer to that name only. Case anybody asks, when you
married me you became a Grubb. Elspeth Grubb.' He shivered
suddenly. 'It's cold out here. Let's git inside.'

Amanda sighed deeply as he picked up his
suitcases, and she reluctantly picked hers up too. She followed
behind him, climbing the three steps up to the porch. The familiar
strains of the music inside stopped, but a moment later 'Hark! the
Herald Angels Sing' began.

Bazzel knocked loudly on the door.

Hark! the herald angels sing,

Glory to the newborn king,

Peace on earth . . .

In the parlor, Elizabeth-Anne slid quietly
over to the far side of the settee and kept one sharp eye peeled on
Jenny's feet, since Jenny had been giving her painful little kicks
on the ankle with the tips of her boots. With her other eye she
watched the gentlemen standing around the spinet, which had been
moved from its usual spot in front of the windows. Elizabeth-Anne
knew that Auntie had moved it there especially for her—so that it
hid the fireplace completely. The gesture made her feel safe. Now,
if only Jenny would leave her alone, life would be almost
perfect.

Elizabeth-Anne felt prettier than she ever
had. Auntie had bought two identical dresses—one for Jenny and one
for her. They were white, with eyelets down the front, and were the
prettiest dresses she had ever seen. And because it was Christmas
Eve, Auntie had parted their hair in the middle and tied it at the
sides with red and green silk ribbons.

Abruptly Auntie stopped playing, her fingers
poised in midair. She cocked her head to one side and frowned as,
one by one, the men stopping singing. She craned her neck up over
the top of the piano. 'Was that the door?'

Jenny jumped to her feet. 'I think so,' she
said. 'I'll go see who it is!' She skipped out of the parlor and
into the hall.

Elender scraped the piano bench back, got to
her feet, and looked at her gentlemen roomers clustered around the
piano—she knew that they were tired of singing and were anxious for
refreshments. 'That's enough caroling for now, I should think,' she
said, smiling warmly. 'Why don't we have some punch and food?'

The men murmured grateful agreement and moved
over to the table, which Elender had festively draped with a white
tablecloth she'd embroidered with green holly leaves and clusters
of red berries. The big cut- glass punch bowl was the centerpiece,
and around it, mouth-watering platters of artfully arranged
delicacies were heavily laden.

As she did each Christmas, Elender took her
place behind the table and ladled out cups of punch and handed them
around. Then she circulated among her guests. A good hostess, she
knew, made everyone feel welcome and important.

'Auntie?'

Elender stopped in mid-step and frowned.
Jenny was standing in the doorway with two well-bundled strangers.
She had never seen the plump red-faced woman or the tall,
cadaverous man before. In the hallway behind them, she could see
four suitcases.

Quickly she crossed the room, folding her
hands in front of her. 'Yes?' she inquired pleasantly.

Bazzel Grubb's eyes swept around the warm,
cheerful parlor. In one long glance he took in the tall Christmas
tree, the wreaths hanging in the windows, the little pine twigs
sprouting from behind picture frames and mirrors, the lavish
platters of food. He exchanged glances with Amanda and then stepped
forward and cleared his throat.

'I'm Bazzel Grubb, ma'am,' he said in a dry,
unemotional voice, 'and this here is the missus, Mrs. Grubb.' He
took Amanda by the arm and pulled her forward.

Amanda smiled shyly at Elender and lowered
her eyes.

'Up till nine months ago, Mrs. Grubb here was
Miss Gross.' Bazzel paused and added pointedly: 'Miss Elspeth
Gross?'

'We jest got married lately,' Amanda said
nervously. 'We moved an' we jest got yer letter. We come as soon as
we could, 'cause of li'l Elizabeth-Anne.'

Bazzel turned to Jenny and smiled thinly.
'You're a mighty pretty young thing, Elizabeth-Anne.'

Jenny raised her pointed chin indignantly.
'I'm Jenny,' she said loftily. 'That's 'Lizbeth-Anne.' She pointed
disdainfully at the settee and sniffed. 'She can't talk. We think
it's because she was scared speechless when the circus burned
down.'

Bazzel's smile faded and his eyes narrowed.
He didn't even catch Amanda's I-told-you-so look. 'The circus . . .
burned?' he asked in a faltering voice, all his hopes and dreams of
easy money crumbling down around him.

Jenny nodded vigorously. 'It was the biggest
fire ever seen in these parts—'

'Jenny!' Elender hissed.

Jenny froze in mid-sentence. Nothing she
might have let slip out in front of Auntie could bring about worse
repercussions; in the excitement of the Grubbs' arrival, she had
totally forgotten Auntie's stern warnings about what would happen
if she ever as much as hinted about the fire while Elizabeth-Anne
was within earshot.

Jenny's heart sank abysmally. For once, she
hadn't even been trying to torment Elizabeth-Anne. Oh, damnation!
she thought. It had simply slipped out! And now . . . She could
feel the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Now she would
be well and truly punished.

She raised her eyes fearfully to meet
Auntie's gaze, half-expecting her wrath at this very moment.
Instead, she saw a peculiar mixture of compassion and hopelessness
in Elender's eyes.

Jenny immediately felt better. She sniffed
and wiped the tears away with her knuckles. She sensed that her
fear of punishment was without foundation and that Auntie mistook
her tears of self-pity for sorrow toward Elizabeth-Anne. Then she
noticed her aunt's odd expression, and wondered what could have
caused it. Elizabeth-Anne's relations finally having arrived? Jenny
could not conceive that that could be the reason. For her own part,
she was more than delighted that they had finally come to rid her
of that freak once and for all. Now it wouldn't be long before
everything would be back to normal and she would again be the sole
object of attention in this house.

Jenny had to struggle to keep from
smiling.

Elender nervously fingered the locket watch
that hung from the thin gold chain around her neck, but otherwise
she maintained her composure, and pasted a weak, quivering smile on
her lips. 'You must be cold and hungry,' she told the Grubbs in the
warmest voice she could muster. 'Why don't you give me your coats,
and then we'll see about getting you some refreshments.' She turned
to Jenny and fluttered her hands to shoo her toward the kitchen.
'Jenny, be a dear and fetch some hot tea for Mr. and Mrs. Grubb,
would you?'

'Yes, Auntie,' Jenny said with patent
resignation.

Amanda Grubb slowly unbuttoned her coat. She
looked surprised as Bazzel helped her slip out of it. He had seldom
ever done that before.

Bazzel handed Amanda's coat to Elender, took
off his own, and handed it over too. Then they made a beeline for
the piano and stood behind it, their backs to the room as they
leaned down, gratefully holding their icy hands out in front of the
warming fire.

'The kid's a mute!' Bazzel hissed so
vehemently that Amanda could feel his spittle on the side of her
face.

'Sssssh!' Amanda glanced quickly over her
shoulder and wiped her cheek with her sleeve. 'Somebody might hear
you!'

Out in the hallway Elender hung their coats
in the closet under the stairs. As she closed the closet door, she
felt a light tug on her skirt. She turned around and looked down.
Elizabeth-Anne stood there, her eyes wide with fear.

Elender pulled her close and held her
tightly. This unexpected visit by Elspeth Gross . . . Elspeth
Grubb, she corrected herself . . . was a totally surprising turn of
events. Over the months, she had become extremely attached to
Elizabeth-Anne, and had begun to think of her as her own. She loved
her (dared she even think it?) more than she loved Jenny.
Elizabeth-Anne had a fragility, a sweet vulnerability that Jenny
had never possessed.

People were wrong, she thought. Ties of flesh
and blood weren't necessarily the strongest. Emotional bonds were
far stronger. And Elizabeth-Anne knew it too. Elender could see
that in her eyes. There was something about this child which filled
her heart with all the warm hopes and dreams that she had once
reserved exclusively for Jenny, and she had been secretly relieved
when there'd been no reply to her letters. But now, here were the
Grubbs . . . in the flesh. Waiting in the parlor to take her
beloved Elizabeth-Anne away.

Elender felt a viselike grip around her
heart.

For the first time that her roomers could
remember, Elender's Christmas Eve party ended early. After they had
reluctantly gone to their rooms, Elender, Jenny, and Elizabeth-Anne
cleaned up. Finally Elender moved two settees together, brought
extra linen, pillows, and quilts down from the upstairs linen
closet, and made the Grubbs a makeshift bed.

They can stay as long as they like, she
thought. That way Elizabeth-Anne will be here a little longer.

When the parlor door closed and they were
finally alone, Amanda sank wearily into a chair. The drumming of
the rain was enough to make her go mad. She rubbed her fingers over
her face. She felt tense and drained from the last hour of
deception, constantly thinking carefully before she spoke so that
she wouldn't make any blunders. Even so, she had almost slipped
once. 'Elspeth?' Bazzel had said, and she had not responded. He'd
had to repeat it, much louder and sharper, before she finally
remembered: she was no longer Amanda. She was Elspeth.

'Mrs. Grubb is hard of hearin' sometimes,'
Bazzel had covered smoothly, 'she's been havin' ear troubles.'

Now Bazzel waited by the door until Elender's
footsteps receded. A moment later he opened it a crack and peered
out. The hall was dark, empty, and quiet. Satisfied that no one
could eavesdrop, he quietly closed the door and went over to
Amanda. 'Been a long day. Let's git to bed.'

She lowered her hands and looked up at him,
her face pinched and tired. 'I could use some sleep.' She folded
her hands in her lap. 'My nerves are frazzled.'

'Pull yourself together, woman.'

'Bazzel,' she said softly, 'there ain't no
circus. Nothin' but the kid.'

'Don't you think I know that?' he hissed
nastily.

She hesitated a moment. 'What do we do
now?'

He shrugged. 'Move on, I suppose. There ain't
nothin' to keep us here no more. I reckon we'll do what we been
doin' all along. Sell minin' shares.' Then suddenly an idea hit
him. They would take the kid with them. Having her around would
give them a greater aura of respectability and would make it even
easier to con folks. 'We'll take that kid,' he said flatly. 'We
oughta be able to sell twice as many shares with her hangin' to yer
skirt. Maybe . . .' His teeth showed yellow as he smiled. 'Yep.
Maybe we kin even unload some of them shares on Miz Clowney before
we leave here.'

Amanda bit down on her lip. 'Bazzel,' she
said softly. 'There ain't no more shares.'

It was a moment before her words registered.
'Sure there are.' He turned and pointed to their luggage. 'They're
in the bottom o' that suitcase.'

'No they ain't,' she said meekly.

He crossed the room quickly, pulled the
suitcase out, and got to his knees. Snapping the catch open, he
rummaged through it. She watched quietly as he flung clothing out
on the floor. Then he froze. The bundles of silver-mine shares were
not there.

He got to his feet and turned around
slowly.

Amanda could feel the familiar pain in her
stomach start up again. She knew that he was in a rage--whenever he
got that icy, implacably calm look in his eyes, there was no
telling what he might do. 'Where they at?' he demanded tonelessly,
stepping toward her.

'B-Bazzel,' she stammered. 'I . . . I
thought—'

'What did you do with them, woman?' he
demanded with an icy edge to his voice.

Her face went white. 'I . . .I burned
them.'

'You
what?
'

She averted her eyes. 'I burned them just
before we left York,' she whispered. 'You've got to believe me,
Bazzel. I didn't want to do it. I . . . I just couldn't be part of
it no more.' She closed her eyes. 'Not cheat- in' old women out of
their life savings.'

He stared down at her, his fists clenched at
his sides. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to lash out
at her and beat her senseless.

She glanced up at him, her eyes filled with
fear. 'Please, Bazzel,' she begged timidly. 'Don't beat me. We'd
have to explain—'

'
We'd
have to explain?' He shook his
head. 'No, woman.
You'd
have to do the explainin'. Jest like
you got a lot of explainin' to do to me.'

She stared at him miserably.

He was silent for a moment before he spoke
again. 'Soon as we're gone from here, you're gonna git yer
punishment,' he threatened slowly. 'Don't think yer gonna git out
of it.'

She felt a cold chill settle over her. Bazzel
was not one to make idle threats. He never forgot a slight or a
double cross. She shuddered to think what the punishment might be.
'Bazzel . . .'she said in a tiny voice.

'Git to bed,' he said coldly. 'One more word
outta you and you'll git punished right now.'

She crawled meekly under the covers and
pulled the quilt up around her, wondering how he was going to get
back at her and how she might avoid it.