Authors: Jane Toombs
After Tomas left, Diarmid turned over the idea that had come to him as he listened to Manuelo's uncle. To build his new house and improve his land took money. He had too little.
But
in
San Francisco
he still owned one-third interest in a thriving store. What were his chances of getting any money from that interest?
Myron had no other family except for Miriam.
Sooner or later
she and Irv Goldman would have to go to court and have Myron declared legally dead. At present Irv would be running the store. Irv was no Myron, he
wasn't
aggressive and demanding. He might be easy to handle.
If Diarmid traveled to
San Francisco
, it was possible he could talk Irv into buying his one-third share of the store.
And
Miriam? He shrugged. No
need to let her or Irv know
Concepcion
was dead. As far as they were concerned, he was a married man.
The more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. A week later, leaving Manuelo in charge at the rancho, Diarmid rode to
Los Angeles
and bought passage on the stage to
San Francisco
. With stopovers to sleep, it took him six and a half days on the rough, unfinished roads of El Camino Real to reach the city.
Once
he'd
paid for a room at the Miner's
Inn
, Diarmid sent a messenger with a note deliberately addressed to Irv and Myron, asking them to come to the hotel.
Waiting in his room for an answer, Diarmid stared from the window at the bustling street below.
San Francisco
was even busier than when
he'd
left a year ago. New and more substantial buildings replaced those burned in the fire of '51 and business looked to be booming.
The town had changed for the better since
he'd
arrived three years before, hungry and broke.
He'd
met Irv and Myron that same day because of a "mule-driver wanted" sign in their store window.
Diarmid soon saw that most of the store profits came from his delivery of goods to the mines. He worked harder than
Irv and Myron put together
and they knew it. The second year, he negotiated for one-third interest in the store, taking a cut in his pay to achieve his goal. When he offered to sell Irv his share, he certainly
wasn't
asking for anything he hadn't earned.
A knock on the door snapped him out of his reverie. Opening it, he was taken aback to find Miriam had come with Irv.
"Please come in," Diarmid said, stepping aside, hoping
he'd
concealed his surprise at her appearance.
Miriam swept past him and perched on the edge of the room's only chair, Irv standing protectively beside her.
Diarmid sat on the bed, propping himself against the iron headboard, seemingly at his ease.
"Since he's not with you," Diarmid began
, "
I assume Myron hasn't returned to
San Francisco
? At
my
ranch south of
Los Angeles
, I received inquiries about him but he never arrived there. Have you heard anything?"
"You know we haven't." Miriam's voice was sharp.
"I'm sorry." Diarmid kept his tone level. He
was determined not to be drawn
into an argument about Myron.
Looking at Irv, he added, "I'd hoped I could discuss my one-third share in the store with both you and Myron."
"Anything you have to say to me, you can say to my wife," Irv announced.
Diarmid
wasn't
really surprised that Irv had married Miriam--it was the obvious solution. As
he'd
tried to tell Myron. If Myron had listened to him, the man would be alive today.
Miriam glared at Diarmid. "We owe you nothing!"
Diarmid raised his eyebrows. "My lawyer thinks differently."
He was bluffing
,
he had no lawyer
.
"You can't--" Miriam began but stopped when Irv reached down and grasped her arm. "What do you want?" Irv demanded.
"My share," Diarmid told him. "I'm willing to be bought out."
"How much?"
Diarmid had walked past the store before sending the note. Since
he'd
left, they'd built a two-story addition and, judging from the stream of customers going in and out, business was brisk. The barber across the street had told him
they'd
opened a second store in
Sacramento
. His share was, he thought, worth at least $15,000. He also knew Irv would never agree to that much.
"$13
,000
," he said.
"You're crazy!"
"We'll both wind up paying lawyers a couple thousand apiece if we drag them into this
,"
Diarmid pointed out.
"Don't give him a cent of our money!" Miriam cried.
"Be still," Irv ordered. "To be rid of you once and for all, I might be able to dredge up $5
,000
," he told Diarmid.
Diarmid shook his head. "If cash is so tight, I'd accept dividing the payment over a reasonable period of time."
After negotiating, with occasional outbursts from Miriam ignored by both men, Diarmid settled for $10,000, as
he'd
meant to all along, to be paid immediately.
As he was closing the door behind them, Miriam thrust herself against it. "You killed my brother, I know you did!
“
She cried. "I can't prove it but someday, somehow, I'll get even.
For everything."
Irv pulled her
away,
Diarmid shut the door and leaned against it. Thank
God
that was over! It only occurred to him then that he
didn't
know whether Miriam had gone on to have the child and, if so, whether it was a boy or girl. He shrugged and walked to the window again. He'd cut his last tie with San Francisco, he'd gotten what he came for, now he could return to his golden valley and build a house for Angelica.
Chapter Six
Looking into the long silver-framed mirror in Stella's bedroom, Angelica stared doubtfully at the reflection of her riding costume. "I don't know. It
isn't
as though I knew his wife but perhaps this blue is too bright a color. After all, she is buried at the ranch."
Stella sighed. "You're not going to visit her grave, you're going because Diarmid asked you to advise him about the new house he means to build."
Angelica fiddled with her jacket. "You don't think this fits too tightly?"
Stella's eyes met hers in the mirror. "Why are you so nervous?"
"It's too soon!" Angelica turned to face her. "Don't you think so? Why is he asking
me
to visit the ranch when his wife has been dead only three months?
And
to visit alone, besides. It's not entirely proper."
"If it bothers you, why go?"
Angelica turned back to the mirror. "You know why. What else is there to do in El Doblez? Diarmid Burwash is the only unattached man I've met who isn't either a fisherman or a vaquero." She fluffed the front curls of her brown hair. "A girl has to think about marriage whether she wants to or not."
“I wasn't aware you didn't want to get married."
“I don't have a choice, do I? I'm hopeless at working in the cantina, you've said so yourself."
Stella nodded. "That's true enough.
But
I thought all young women were eager to marry. God knows I was so damn eager I rushed into what turned out to be a terrible mistake."
Angelica, curious, faced her again. Stella almost never talked about her past life. "What was wrong?"
"Fernando was a brute. There's no more to say."
Had he beaten her? Angelica wondered with a thrill of fascinated horror, remembering the scars
she'd
once glimpsed on Stella's breasts. "How can a girl tell what a man's like before she marries him?" she asked plaintively.
"She can't.
But
most of the brutes show their true colors one way or another early on.
If you pay attention.
I didn't."
Angelica bit her lip. "I overheard a customer in the cantina say something terrible about Diarmid."
Stella raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know your Spanish had improved that much."
"I understand it quite
well,
I just can't twist my tongue into speaking it. Anyway, this vaquero told another man that he suspects Diarmid set the fire himself. Then they both looked at
me
and smirked under those nasty black
mustaches
. I was so astounded I couldn't move."
"Diarmid would never do anything so dreadful!"
"It wasn't me that said he did. You're quite fond of him, aren't you?"
"I think of him as my younger brother." Stella's tone was sardonic. "How do you feel about Diarmid?"
"I don't know. I guess
that's
what worries me.
He's
not at all like Nathan Hamilton--he was my gentleman friend in
Philadelphia
. We weren't engaged or anything but he did call on me." Angelica sighed, recalling how handsome Nathan was. She adored blond men. In
California
, it seemed everyone she met was swarthy. If only she still lived back east in her uncle's three-story brick house set among other proper houses on a paved street. If only she lived closer to Nathan...
"You know Diarmid will soon ask you to marry him." Stella
wasn't
asking a question.
"Yes." How could she not know? Every time he looked at
her
she could see the longing in his eyes. Not that
he'd
behaved improperly. Heavens, no, he
hadn't
so much as held her hand. Nathan had.
He'd
kissed her, too.
Three different times.
She'd
rather enjoyed it.
"You'll accept."
Angelica nodded. What else could she do? Stella tried not to show it but she knew her cousin found her a burden.
"You don't dislike Diarmid, do you?" Stella asked.
"He's all right."
"You don't sound very enthusiastic. He'd do his best to lasso the moon for you if you asked him."
"Marriage is forever," Angelica said. "That frightens me."
"Marriage is only till death do us part." Stella's tone was grim.
"Luckily, in my case."
What about
Concepcion
?
Angelica wanted to ask. It
wasn't
lucky for her.
But
she didn't have the nerve, she didn't want to think or hear any more about Diarmid's wife and how she died.
Not that she actually believed he set the fire. It was touching the way
he'd
hovered over that tiny
shriveled
-looking little baby.
He'd
never have done anything to hurt the child.
If I marry him,
I'll
have babies, Angelica thought. She wanted children,
didn't
every girl? Why, then, did the thought of bearing Diarmid's babies dismay her? Because
they'd
be dark, like him, instead of the blonde, blue-eyed children she'd dreamed of having?
Pack your dreams of Nathan away, she advised herself.
He's
part of a past you can never go back to.
Boots crunched on the path of crushed shells leading to the front door. Diarmid, come to escort her to the ranch.
"Why don't you come with us?" she asked Stella as she fitted on a dark blue silk bonnet.
"I'm a working woman, remember? Besides, Diarmid didn't invite me." Stella sounded a bit peeved.
I
can't
help it if she's fonder of him than I am, angelica told herself. Not that Stella would want to marry Diarmid. Heavens, she was years older. Angelica picked up her gloves and walked slowly to the front door.