The Wildest Heart

Todd Shannon continued to study me through narrow eyes, and there was something almost contemptuously insolent in his look that made me draw in a deep breath to keep my voice from shaking with rage.

“Well?” he drawled.

“Well—” I said, and deliberately leaned back in my chair, looking back at him in much the same fashion as he looked at me. He didn’t like it, and I pressed home this slight advantage.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Shannon, that you might as well get used to the fact that I have a mind of my own, and that I intend to dress as I please, and act as I think fit. My grandfather, who brought me up, believed in educating a woman’s mind and thus forming her character, Mr. Shannon. He taught me not to rely only on pretty clothes and primping before a mirror to gain my way. And as for spending all the money my father left me on pretty clothes and jewelry, why, I think that is a ridiculous idea! Why should I waste it? I’m sure I’ll find better ways to spend my fortune—ways that will help other, less fortunate people. But in the meantime, I must warn you not to underestimate me, for I happen to be able to think for myself.”

During my speech he had begun to stare at me in a stunned, almost disbelieving way. Now he swore, banging a fist down on the table and making the bottle jump. “By God! A do-gooder! Damned if Guy’s daughter don’t turn out to be a missionary!” He gave a short, ugly laugh and looked at Mark. “Hear that? She’ll be wantin’ to convert those poor dogs of Injuns next. And this—” he banged his fist again for emphasis, “this is the partner I get myself saddled with! Well I’ll tell you straight, miss, we’d damn well better come to an understanding on a few things! I run the SD, and I built it up into what it is today, and there ain’t no female gonna interfere with the way I run things! Now, if you want to spend your own money on helpin’ the folks I suggest you build a church or somethin’—the preacher in town might need some help—but don’t you go gettin’ no notions…”

“Don’t shout at me, Todd Shannon!” I said icily. “And I’m well aware of my legal rights. All of them. They don’t include letting myself be badgered and bullied by you. Why,” I added sweetly and reasonably, “don’t you go back to court and try contesting my father’s will again? Not that I think you’ll be more successful than you were the last time, but the people of this territory who knew my father might not take too kindly to the spectacle of seeing his heir deliberately harassed by his own partner. There are some advantages to being a female, as I’ve discovered.”

“Got a tongue like vinegar too, ain’t you?”

“You might find that I’m more than a match for you when it comes to an argument, even if my voice isn’t quite as loud, Mr. Shannon,” I retorted.

Mark, who had been listening silently all this time, leaned over the table, his voice urgent. “Now look, Uncle Todd! Lady Rowena’s right, you know! And since you are partners, like it or not, why not try to come to some compromise? You two start feuding, and it’ll mean the end of the SD. You’ll find half the wolves in the territory trying to get a piece of the action, as well as certain other interested parties.” he added with heavy significance.

“Well, but damn it,” Todd Shannon grumbled. I had seen, however, that Mark’s warning had made him thoughtful.

“Mr. Shannon, I don’t like you any more than you like me. I’m willing to be practical, but if you insist on quarreling with me merely because my father left something which was entirely his to give to his only child, then I’m afraid I shall despise you as well for being a petty, greedy man. You shall have war, if you want it, and I think you’ll discover that I’m not to be frightened off.”

“So that’s your game!” He had pushed his chair back and was regarding me from beneath lowering brows. Suddenly he gave a harsh laugh. “You’re pretty smart, for all that you look like a missionary or a schoolmarm. You can fight me, but I can’t afford to let it get around that Todd Shannon’s battlin’ his own partner, the daughter of my best friend. Yes, and Guy was that, for all that we had our disagreements. So—” he frowned at me, “I guess we’re stuck with each other for a while, eh? I don’t for a moment think you’re gonna like it out here, but for the moment…”

“I was raised in India.” I said flatly. “The climate there is worse, the conditions even more primitive, and those Indians just as savage as the ones you are supposed to have here. But at least our laws of hospitality there were obviously far more gracious than yours.”

He had the grace to flush at last. “By God, but you have a sharp tongue! But I guess I asked for that. Might as well be honest with you, I didn’t want no female partner. And as for you, miss, being Guy’s daughter, an’ him thinking the world of you all these years, I didn’t cotton to the fact you didn’t write or nothin’.”

“I was taken away to India when I was a baby, Mr. Shannon, and when I returned to England I had no idea of my father’s whereabouts, or that he even remembered my existence! I was greeted in Boston by the news that he had died before I could see him again, and then you did your best to show me I was unwelcome. However, a plain woman has one advantage over a pretty one. She becomes used to using her head and fighting her own battles.”

I saw him squinting at me. “You’re a feisty one, I’ll say that much for you! An’ the first woman I’ve heard say right out she’s plain. Makes me wonder…” he leaned his head to one side studying me critically. “Got real purty eyes, now you’ve taken off them eyeglasses. Long eyelashes, too, an’ a nice skin.”

“Oh, please, Mr. Shannon! I beg that you will not disappoint me by resorting to blatant flattery, for I know very well how I look. No, I would rather have honesty, and it would make me happy if you would learn to appreciate the fact that I have a mind, rather than keep reminding me that I’m a female!”

“Ah, Jesus!” Todd Shannon gave me a disgusted look. “A man tries to be polite and gets told off for it! Well, miss, have it your own way. I’ll try to forget you’re a female, and believe me, if you’re going to keep dressin’ the way you are in this climate, it ain’t gonna be too hard!”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t care for the way I’m dressed, Mr. Shannon, but you’ll just have to put up with it, won’t you?” I made my voice sound prim, to hide the satisfaction I felt at annoying him. At the time, I did not try to analyze my emotions, nor my reactions to this annoyingly arrogant, irritating man.

We finally parted, after a formal and uncomfortable meal in the hotel’s rather small and shabby dining room, I to travel to my new home, escorted by Mark Shannon and some of the SD cowboys who had ridden into town with their boss, and Todd Shannon, relieved at being rid of me for a while, I’m sure, to return to his house.

He had halfheartedly attempted to persuade me to accept his hospitality, but I turned his offer down firmly. I needed room to think and to be alone for a while.

“I would rather be left on my own for a week or so,” I stated bluntly. “All the traveling I’ve done has left me exhausted, and I intend to be lazy for a while. Besides, I’d like some time to read my father’s journals in privacy, and to form my own impressions of life on a New Mexican ranch.”

“You just take all the time you want, miss! Longer the better!”

I only shrugged at his deliberate rudeness. There would be time later to make him regret it. And a time when he would not be able to avoid me. Todd Shannon might be a clever man, a resourceful, arrogant, overbearing man. But he was only a man, after all.

It’s amazing now, when I look back, to remember how sure I was of myself. In my way, I was just as arrogant as Todd Shannon!

Part II:

The Inheritance

Six

The next two weeks were the quietest, and yet in some way the most rewarding, period of my life until then. A peaceful interlude, like a bridge spanning the two halves of my life.

I did nothing very constructive. I read. I lazed. I ate when I pleased and went to bed when I felt like it, even if it was for an afternoon siesta. Very occasionally I rode, having chosen a high-stepping little mare of mixed Arabian stock for myself, but I never rode very far, for Marta, who had been my father’s housekeeper, had already warned me of the dangers I might encounter. I did not want trouble. I needed only to relax and be myself.