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CHAPTER 2 - THE INHERITANCE
"I said no such thing," Harlan protested. "I've barely spoken to her, as it is. The girl obviously misunderstood my meaning." Shutting the door of his bedroom, Harlan sat down on the wingback chair, calmly crossing his legs. He was confident that that Scott would decline his suggestion to be seated, but he made the gesture anyway.
"No thank you, Sir." Scott clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention. Adopting a military stance was his best defense against the irritation that threatened to swell into anger.
"So, speak up boy, get whatever it is off your chest," Harlan ordered with a tolerant smile.
Scott decided to get right to the point. "You aren't planning to take some kind of legal action to render my brother illegitimate are you? Because I want to make it clear that any move against any member of my family will not be tolerated."
"Scottie, of course not. What Murdoch does with his property is none of my business. If he wants to give that young fellow a third of his ranch, then so be it. I'm sure if I had children born on the wrong side of the sheets I'd feel some sort of responsibility, too-"
"Grandfather! Johnny's mother was married to Murdoch, and I'd appreciate it if you refrain from insinuating anything else. Johnny is my brother, both in a legal and family sense."
"Well, at least your lineage is beyond reproach. Both my family and your grandmother's can be traced back hundreds of years and every man had a son with a clear line to the family tree. I may have had more influence than money, but I had a fine business sense and married well. When I am gone you will inherit a great estate, Scott, and the Garrett family is counting on you to get married and keep the line going."
Scott protested, "Grandfather–"
Harlan continued, "Now, now, I've seen the way that little slip of a girl looks at you. If you're not careful she'll work her wiles on you, and back you into a corner that you can't extricate yourself from."
"You're talking about Teresa?" Scott was flabbergasted and shook his head. "She is like my sister, sir. That is all, but even so, well, she will make a good wife for some lucky man some day. She was very hurt by what you said to her. She's Murdoch's ward and is just as much a family member as I am."
Harlan dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "She is nothing but the daughter of a servant. She is like all of her kind. The poorer and more obligated they are to the master, the more likely they are to worm their way into his good graces. They take advantage of a man's generous nature just to get their hands on your fortune. Mark my words, my boy, that girl is aiming to get into your bed on her way to getting hold of your money! If you don't wake up soon, you'll be sorry."
"Sir! You've got it all wrong. Teresa's a fine young lady–"
"Just so long as you don't put a gold ring on her finger, Scottie. Keep her as a mistress if you have to, but only after you're safely wed to a real lady. You need to return to Boston, where you belong, and take hold of one of the fine girls who have breeding and a big dowry. That's the only way to succeed."
Knowing that quarreling with his grandfather would only add fuel to the fire, Scott tried to respond calmly. "You make it sound like a business merger. If and when I marry, Grandfather, it won't be to keep the line going. I'll marry a woman who suits me - and for love."
"Pshaw, look what good it did your poor mother! Marrying some foreign fellow off the boat, cajoled by his empty promises. Murdoch Lancer took my Catherine away from everything she knew, dragged her out to this rough and treacherous wilderness. Murdoch–"
"Don't even start in on Murdoch," Scott advised with his voice raised. "You've insulted just about everyone on this ranch, and it's time you halted. If you can't behave like a gentleman, then you won't be welcome here. Is that clear? You were only invited back after I assured my family that you were repentant for your past behavior. If that is untrue, then you may leave."
Harlan acted as if he hadn't heard Scott's warning. "Then there's the problem with regards to this half-brother of yours. If you meet up with an accident or if something were to befall you, he and Murdoch would reap the benefits. I don't want your inheritance going to feed the mouths of some half-breed's offspring, and you can bet he's got them and their mothers lined up from here to Chihuahua."
"Enough! You're not on your deathbed yet, and even if you were, you can leave your money to someone else. I'm not interested in it. You can leave your estate to some distant cousin, or to your alma mater - to anyone except me. If I take my leave before Johnny does, then he gets everything that is mine. No matter if I have one dollar or a million, I want my brother to have what is mine. That is how I have written my will, not that it's any business of yours."
"Don't you speak to me in that tone, young man!"
"I am not your young man, sir, and I'll speak any way I want to in my own house. In case you've forgotten, I am no longer under your influence."
Harlan looked askance at Scott. "I sometimes forget that you are your own man." He looked down at his hands for a minute, and then sighed. "You see, I worry about you. I have nobody else. You have had some close calls since you've come out here. This is a very dangerous country. Just look at that incident that occurred when I was arriving on the stage the other day."
"Any number of men would have done the same. I only got there first," Scott said defensively. He had intervened when a carriage horse, spooked by the incoming stagecoach, had reared up and become entangled in its own traces. Without thought, he had rushed in to grab the animal's halter while another man had extricated it.
"But you jumped in and calmed the beast! You never would have done anything so irresponsible back in Boston. This land has made you reckless. You came close to being stricken by a hoof, my boy . . . far too close. And did you not disarm some scoundrel who held you hostage, just a short while ago? You told me that he was intent on killing you when he mistook you for your brother!"
"Of course I don't seek danger. I defend what's mine, sir, and that gang was threatening not only Lancer, but the whole town." Never had he felt so close to death as when faced with a spray of bullets fired from Drago's Gatling gun. The leader of the small gang had tested him to see if he would stand or run, and when the shooting had ceased, Scott had been surprised when he had found himself still alive. When he'd faced the enemy he had felt his senses heightened, but unlike during the war, he had enjoyed it. But more importantly, he had come out of it knowing for sure that he belonged here at Lancer.
Scott explained, "I wouldn't have told you about Drago if I'd thought you'd hold it over my head forever. I don't want to be coddled, Grandfather." Scott hadn't intended to tell Garrett about the whole escapade, but when Jelly had slipped and made mention of it, he'd had no choice but to relate the barest details of what had occurred.
"I still say this rough country cannot be to your liking, not after the upbringing you've had. You must miss your old life, Scott," Garrett cajoled. "Social functions, theater, city life at its best, conversations with fellows of your own educational level. . ."
The West also offered a kind of freedom that Scott had never had before. All his adult life he'd been under someone's rule. His grandfather, the professors at college, and the military had all directed his life. Murdoch may cast a patriarchal eye over his sons, but he treated them like men and respected their opinions. Scott enjoyed this life and he had developed a deep sense of pride in this land and everything that the ownership of it entailed. "Lancer means everything to me, Grandfather."
"But you endanger yourself every day out here in this heathen wilderness," Harlan insisted doggedly. "Catherine died in this God-forsaken land, and I don't want the same fate for you. Please come home with me, Scottie. There is so much more for you in Boston: society, politics, women . . .money. But I'm not only talking about my holdings. I'm thinking of the money that is coming to you now you're of age, the money from your grandmother's side of the family. Your thoughtless behavior puts all of this at risk."
Bristling, Scott replied, "If I haven't made it clear before, nothing, not even blackmail, can make me change my mind. You lied to Johnny and told him I'd agreed to go back to Boston with you. I never said I would, only that I would consider a visit. This is my home now. I know that my grandmother's family made a small fortune in shipping, and that I am to receive a portion on my twenty-seventh birthday, but it won't make any difference to me."
Harlan smiled and leaned forward. "It is now more than a small fortune, I assure you. Only the men inherit within her family, my boy, and now that my late wife's brother has died, you are the last remaining male descendent. That means it all goes to you in two days' time. It is time for a great change. You will take over from the interim board of directors and run the company . . .under my expert guidance, of course. This is one of the reasons I came here. I'm carrying a copy of a document that outlines the entire inheritance to you." He reached for a leather case sitting on his bureau and withdrew a heavy, folded and sealed parchment, offering it to Scott. "Why don't you sit down, my boy?"
Scott stood uneasily, curious about its content but unwilling to give in to the old man. "I don't want to sit down, thank you." He gingerly accepted the folded paper, making no attempt to open it. "If this board has been handling everything since my great-uncle's death, they can just continue as is. I'm not about to take over the family business, Grandfather." He'd come into this room angry with his grandfather, and now the old man expected him to drop everything, to just leave his home and go back East in order to become something he was not and would never be- an executive. No amount of money could pry him from Lancer.
"It is much more than just a shipping company, Scott." Harlan Garrett spoke in a silky tone as he rubbed his hands together. "The holdings include a mill, factories and other valuable interests. I've been keeping an eye on it all for you. At the last count, the estate was valued at twenty million dollars. And now it's all yours, Scott."
Wordless, Scott sat down on the bed.
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