TBT Chapter 5
It was quiet in the mansion. Empty and quiet. Kelly had gone back to London. Christine had followed him, calling to assure her sister the Brat was okay. Garrison and the cons were over on the Continent. Ah, blessed peace. It was almost too quiet.
Terry moved around the common room, straightening things and emptying ashtrays. She smoothed the antimacassar and arm covers on Actor's chair before straightening the books on the side table. There was a wide range of subject matter. One was a book on military tactics of World War I, one a book of prose, and the last was Robinson Crusoe. She chuckled at the last two. Moving on, she pulled a dust rag from her back pocket and cleaned the mantel over the fireplace. Finished there, she tucked the rag back into her pocket.
She looked down at her comfortable pants. Leave it to Kelly to embarrass the hell out of her for wearing a skirt. The men and Craig had been good about not commenting on her gradual change to wearing skirts, at least not within her hearing. It made her wonder if Actor had not encouraged the cons to keep their mouths shut.
She had cleaned around the other large chair by the window and was working on the game table when the telephone rang. She eyed it warily as she walked over to the one by the stairs. Phone calls in this house had a tendency to worry her, but the guys hadn't been gone long enough for anyone to notify her they were in trouble. She picked up the phone and, with delight, heard her middle brother's voice.
"Hey, Terry, is the Brat still there?" asked Monty.
"No, he disappeared a couple days ago," said Terry.
"Damn," said Monty in frustration. "I managed to wrangle a 72 hour pass this weekend to see him."
"So? Take it anyway," suggested Terry. "Stop in London on Friday to see Chris. Kelly's back with her. Craig and the guys are gone and should be back sometime Friday night or real early Saturday morning. Come down on Saturday and stay with us."
"Okay," said Monty. "I haven't seen you or Craig in a long time. I'll see you Saturday."
"Well, call me and I'll pick you up at the train station in Brandonshire," said Terry.
GGGGG
It was later in the morning on Saturday when Terry received the call to pick up Monty in Brandonshire. The men had returned about 3 a.m. and were still asleep. She had not told Craig their brother was coming. It would be a good surprise. She set food out on the dining room table, covered, for the guys when they got up. They would probably be up before she returned with Monty. Satisfied, she stopped at the coat tree for her jacket, her hand pausing as she eyed the worn leather bomber jacket hanging beside it. A smile came to her face. She loved leather. Still, she hesitated. Ah, heck, Casino wouldn't miss it for the short time she would be gone. She grabbed it and threw it on. The sleeves were too long and it hung on her, but it was roomy and probably warm. She took a long deep breath. It smelled of old leather, tobacco, whatever the aftershave was the man wore at times, and Casino. All in all, not a bad combination. With a spring to her step, she picked up her purse and the keys to the Packard and bounded down the steps.
GGGGG
Monty leaned against a pillar in the waiting room of the train station. He had been sitting since London and the wooden benches in the station did not look comfortable. It was good to get off the base for a few days and be himself. Reflecting back, he liked his job as a bombardier on the B-17 Flying Fortresses. He liked the Air Force. He could have gone to the Point. Will Garrison was more than willing to foot the bill for his adopted son, but the Point was Craig's thing. Monty did not have the personality to be an officer, nor did he wish to develop one. When this war was over, if he survived it, he was going back to the ranch and back to being a cowboy. Give him a horse and those beautiful rugged mountains and he was happy. It made him wonder about the rest of the clan.
Kelly had been a surprise when he had seen the boy in London, with not only the physical changes, but the attitude changes. The Brat was taller than him. Gone was the little tow-headed kid who liked nothing better than to play practical jokes on all of them. Oh, the sense of humor was still there, but there was also a somberness that apparently stemmed from having seen too much, too young, of the atrocities to the European people by that insane Nazi leader. Kelly had a cause and he wasn't about to give it up.
Christine had been her gentle happy self. But there was steel underneath that softness that hadn't been there before. Maybe he just hadn't seen it. She had been protected by Nick Bradford when she lived in New York with him. She had allowed Craig and their father to tear her away from her boyfriend, lover, whatever he had been, and send her back to the ranch. Now she was in London, sharing a flat with two men from Nick's gang in what she insisted was a purely non-romantic relationship. She and Kelly had broken ties with the OSS and were working independently with Dirk and Tinker for the Maquis and other bands of resistance. Nick had been killed while working for the OSS. She said her motive for coming to England had been revenge for Nicky's death, but that had changed to a need to help the poor people she had come in contact with on the Continent. That was Crystal, as they sometimes called her, – a helper.
That brought his mind to his other sister. Terry had shocked him. It wasn't that she had come over here to do her part in the war. After the battle in New York, tearing her away from Jake Bradford, she had said she could no longer stand the idea of being confined to the ranch. Nobody confined Terry. She would disappear in the middle of the night, maybe coming back in a couple days and one time it had been three months before she returned. Even he couldn't track her. She had been fifteen at the time. She had never said where exactly she had gone or why, but she had lived off the land with just her horses and one of the ranch collies for company.
That girl in no way resembled the elegant woman he had met in a ballroom in London. Granted she had spent three winters in her pre- and early teens in Italy with their aunt, as had Craig. The older brother had confided they had learned things they had no business knowing about, which was why they had petitioned their father to not allow Chris to follow in their footsteps. Still, Terry had come back to the ranch from Europe and had no problem returning to her tomboy existence. The change had to be that old man she had been with in London. Monty had mentioned to Chris seeing Terry exchanging kisses with the Italian. Chris wasn't shocked. Kelly had reported seeing them do it at the mansion too. So why wasn't Craig putting a stop to it like he had with Jake? Why was he letting that Italian change their sister so much?
Craig. West Point had done its duty with their older brother. He was an officer, granted a lowly one, and he had that officer bearing. Will Garrison had gotten what he wanted, a copy of himself to carry on the Garrison men's family tradition of an Army lifer. Monty bet it irked their father when time and again Craig turned down promotion. He wanted to stay with his men, a bunch of convicts. Chris said he worked closely with the Italian, fine tuning the education he had received from Zia and her side of the family.
GGGGG
Terry paused inside the doorway to the train station. Most of the human traffic had cleared out since the arrival of the last train. It was easy to spot the Air Force soldier leaning against one of the pillars, seemingly lost in thought. She smiled. She was not yet accustomed to seeing her middle brother pressed and polished with short black hair topping a face with a perpetual tan. She was far more used to blue jeans, a faded chambray shirt open at the neck to show the beaded talisman. Monty's hair had been long, sometimes in braids on both sides of his head. An old wool hat with an eagle feather protected him from the sun.
"Oki!" she called out the Blackfoot greeting.
Monty's head flew up with a wide grin. "Oki back at you, Sis." He returned the greeting.
They met halfway and embraced in a warm hug. Monty pushed her back and frowned at her attire, definitely not the elegant gown she had been wearing when he had seen her last.
"What are you wearing?" he asked in amusement.
She waved her hand in dismissal. "I borrowed the jacket."
"I can tell," Monty laughed. At least she was in pants again.
Terry grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. "Come on, Brother. Craig ought to be up by now. I didn't tell him you were coming. Thought I'd surprise him."
"Kelly wasn't enough of a surprise?"
"It's good to keep him guessing," shrugged Terry.
Monty was a little puzzled when Terry turned up a long dirt drive alongside a white fenced pasture. Then he saw the Mediterranean three story villa and stared.
"That's the Mansion?" he asked in disbelief.
"That's the Mansion."
Monty stared. "I've heard you and Craig call it that. I thought you were being sarcastic. It is a mansion!"
Terry laughed, "You haven't seen the inside yet. It's part mausoleum and part museum. The family that owns it went to safer territory for the duration and contracted with the army to let it out as a barracks of sorts."
GGGGG
Terry was the first in the door. Casino was waiting for her. He was sitting at the game table, arm over the back of his chair and a glare on his face.
"Hey, Lady, that's my jacket!" he bellered.
"Yes, it is," smiled Terry. "Thank you for letting me use it."
"Garrison!" blasted the safecracker. He froze, warily watching the Air Force soldier who had entered the house behind the girl.
All of the men were silent and watching the newcomer when Craig came out of his office with the intent of reading the riot act to Casino.
"Which Garrison?" asked a familiar voice.
Craig turned his head to see his brother grinning at him. Anger instantly forgotten, the Lieutenant strode across the room to meet his adopted brother for a mutual back pounding greeting. "What are you doing here?"
Monty shrugged and tossed his hat onto the newel post at the base of the stairs. "I got a leave. And that one," he gestured toward Terry, "decided to surprise you."
Craig looked at his sister who was removing the jacket and hanging it back up. He frowned. "That's Casino's jacket."
"I know!" said Terry in exasperation. "You'd think I robbed the Bank of England for cryin' out loud."
Before Craig could answer, the phone rang. Everyone froze. Terry turned cautious eyes to her brother. "They wouldn't . . .?"
"No," replied Garrison. "They assured me we're good for 48 hours." He went into his office and closed the door to answer the phone. He was back in a minute with a sour look on his face. "That was Kit. Wanted to know if you were working tonight. I told her no and hung up."
Terry grinned. "Thanks, Craig."
"Yeah."
Terry started making the introductions. "This is our brother, Monty. This is Goniff and Casino." They both nodded. Terry unsuccessfully tried to stifle a grin, "You've already met Actor." The two men nodded to each other, both wary. Craig looked puzzled.
"And this is Chief."
Monty walked up to the younger man who had risen from his perch on the window ledge.
"Ya-ta-hay," said Monty.
"Ya-ta-hay," replied Chief.
"Lakota," Monty offered.
"Chiricahua," answered Chief.
"You two can talk to each other," asked Goniff brightly.
"Yeah," replied Monty with a grin. "In English." He turned back to Chief. "Nice to meet you. Brother."
Chief nodded.
"Great," said Casino derisively. "Now we got us two dumb Injuns."
Craig never moved. Terry got a small smile on her face. Chief was tense and itching to fight.
Monty turned to face the safecracker. "Yeah, you gotta be Casino." He looked steadily at the man. "If we're 'dumb Injuns', does that make you a 'dumb Wop'?" He turned quickly to Actor. "No offense meant to you, Sir,"
Actor nodded, a sparkle in the hazel eyes. This could get interesting.
"I ain't no Wop," said Casino angrily. "I'm third generation American."
Monty grinned, "Well, I'm at least tenth generation American. I think that's got you beat."
Goniff burst out laughing, cutting it off quickly at a glare from Casino. Casino started forward with closed fists.
"Take it outside, Boys!" ordered Terry.
Craig remained relaxed. "But I wouldn't if I were you, Casino. I know my brother. It's won't be like fighting Chief. Monty won't pull his punches. I know firsthand how well he fights. He'll have you on your backside in a heartbeat."
Casino looked back and forth between Monty and Garrison. "Aw, hell," he said. "I'd just get thrown in the stockade for hittin' a Garrison." He stomped off into the kitchen and out the back door.
Terry licked the tips of two fingers and made a downward slice through the air, pointing to Monty. "That had to be worth at least two points." This brought grins and laughs from the rest of the occupants of the room.
Monty walked back to the front door to retrieve his bag. "So where do I get to go and change outta this prissy suit?"
Craig laughed. "Upstairs and . . ."
"I'll show you," said a quiet drawl.
They all looked at Chief in carefully hidden amazement. The usually reticent young Indian strolled over to Monty and nodded with his head up the stairs.
"Thanks," said Mon. "So, Arizona or New Mexico?"
"Both, border land." The two started up the stairs. "Western Montana?"
"Yeah, well, South Dakota originally."
There was silence in the common room until the two had disappeared.
"Uh, Lieutenant, 'e don't look like you," broached Goniff.
"Gee, Goniff, I really hadn't noticed," said Craig.
"Aw, Warden . . ."
Terry was chuckling and Actor was grinning before Craig answered. "We adopted him when he was what . . . fourteen," he looked for confirmation from his sister.
Terry nodded. "We started out fostering him. Ma had read something where they were wanting families to take in orphaned Indian children for a summer. Like we didn't have Indians around with the ranch being half on the Blackfoot reservation. She wanted to do it. So we were given Montgomery Gray Fox."
"He was a handful," chuckled Craig, picking up the story. "By the end of the summer, we decided to keep him. It wasn't as much trouble as we thought it might be seeing as we're white. We lived on a reservation, still do. We kids all spoke Blackfoot. Dad was a respectable Army colonel at that time. We could afford him. So we got him."
"So you speak the lingo?" asked Goniff.
"Ma doesn't," replied Terry. "All of us kids speak Lakota and Blackfoot. And Dad took lessons in Lakota from somebody."
Craig headed back to his office. He motioned with his head for Terry to follow. She shut the door behind them.
"What, Brother?" she asked, plopping in the chair in front of his desk.
"Okay, Terry," said Craig. "How, where and when did Monty meet Actor?"
Terry grinned at the memory. "It was that time Chris and I went to London with Actor. We were at a night club. Monty asked me to dance. They almost came to blows."
Garrison shook his head. "Actor will get physical, but he usually has to be provoked or bored. I can't see Monty provoking him."
"It was a misunderstanding," explained Terry. "They hadn't been introduced. Actor thought Monty was being rude to me. He almost belted Mon."
"He's getting a little protective isn't he?" asked Craig dubiously.
"They all are," said Terry offhandedly. "I am your sister you know."
"You mollycoddle them," Craig said with disapproval.
"Why not? Maybe they need it." She shrugged, "besides, wouldn't you rather they were protective of me than giving me trouble?"
"I suppose," acceded Craig.
"I mollycoddle you too," said Terry innocently. "But if you don't like it, I suppose I could quit starting a fire in your fireplace and turning down your blankets before you come home from a mission. And I don't have to put your back in when it's out. And I could make fewer sandwiches . . ."
"All right! I get your point, Sis." Garrison glared at her grinning face. "Say," he asked, "I hear you've been giving backrubs to my men?"
"Why not?" responded Terry. "They come back just as knotted up as you do. It doesn't hurt anything. With Casino it's shoulders and low back. Chiefy gets it in the shoulders, but he's too embarrassed most times to ask. And Goniff is so flexible I think he just gets one because he likes it."
"I've never seen you work on Actor," remarked Craig.
Terry gave a short chuckle. "I think it's beneath his dignity. And you know he'll never ask. I did him once. He knots up real bad between the shoulder blades. I think he appreciated it, but he just doesn't know how to accept anything from anybody or ask."
"He's got an interesting background," said Craig.
"Which one?" asked Terry wryly. "Do you even know his real name?"
"Probably not," replied Garrison with a grin. "Do you?"
"No," replied Terry. "But I'd bet the farm it ain't 'Victor.' He doesn't look like a Victor." She got up. "That all you wanted to know?"
"I guess so," replied Craig.
Terry got up and left the office. She went into the kitchen to see what she could make for dinner to feed the bunch. Monty always had a good appetite and the guys were usually hungry after a mission. Living mostly on bread and cheese while they were on the Continent didn't cut it. In the icebox was a fair amount of leftover roast beef. She still refused to tell Craig who her supplier was. There were some things her straight-laced brother did not need to know.
Straightening and shutting the icebox door, Terry glanced through the mudroom and out the window of the back door. Casino was wandering around the back garden, hands in pockets, head bent. It was darn cold out there and the man was in shirtsleeves. Shaking her head, she let herself outside.
"Hey, are you trying to catch pneumonia?" she called to the safecracker.
He shot a dirty look at her. Terry stepped in front of him and halted, facing him, practically nose-to-nose.
"So who are you still mad at? Me or Monty?"
"Both uh yuh," came the sullen reply.
Terry shook her head, eyes sparkling in amusement. "Well, if you're going to dish it out, especially to a Garrison, then you better be prepared to get it back."
Casino harrumphed. Terry laughed. She reached out and ran hands up his bare lower arms. They were like ice.
"Come on, get in the house. You can be just as mad in there as out here and it's warmer. I'll throw a pot of coffee on."
Boldly, she linked her elbow through his and tugged on him go back inside. Refusing to smile at her, Casino did allow her to pull him along.
"All you Garrisons crazy?" he asked.
"Oh, you haven't met Cinder yet," said Terry. "And I doubt you ever will, which would probably be a good thing." Her older sister was just as prickly and opinionated at Casino. Terry figured, given a confrontation, her sister would chew up the safecracker and spit him out. Not that she was about to tell him that.
Back inside, Terry remained in the kitchen, putting another pot of coffee on. She got vegetables out and started prepping for dinner. Casino went back into the common room. Monty and Chief had returned and Goniff was cheerfully filling the middle Garrison brother in on all of the cons specialties.
Monty sat in the big chair by the window and listened in amazement. The cons were quite a bunch, from every walk of the criminal world, and his brother had picked them out. The personalities varied; quiet, mouthy, lower class and upper class. Chief reminded Monty of himself at an earlier time, chip on the shoulder, but more dangerous. Casino needed to have his lights punched out. Monty couldn't help but like Goniff, despite the man's constant nervous chatter. Monty was reserving final judgment on Actor. Aristocratic, haughty, arrogant and superior, the man just wasn't Terry's type, even though Craig said he thought she was sleeping with the confidence man.
Craig did not venture from his office other than to get a cup of coffee. So much for visiting with his brother, thought Monty. Terry was busy with domestic chores, which was something their mother had been hard pressed to get her to do at home, other than cook. That left Monty to spend the afternoon with the cons. Actually, he was enjoying it.
Terry put dinner on the table about six o'clock. There were two big shepherd's pies. Monty dove in with gusto, as did the rest of the occupants of the table. Well, maybe not Actor. The man seemed to be treating it like fine cuisine in an exclusive restaurant.
"This beats rations all to heck," said Monty. "How do you get this kind of good food?"
Craig shook his head. "Sister has become very well acquainted with the black market, thanks to somebody's influence.
Monty watched Craig exchange a mock sour look with the con man. The Italian in turn returned a smug, superior smile. Monty turned his head to look at Terry. She was studiously ignoring the two men, but there was a wicked little smile on her face.
A few minutes later, Terry casually said, "I think we should take Monty to the Doves tonight."
"Hey!" Casino was now all for it. "He can't visit without a trip to the Doves."
"'Ow about it, Warden?" asked Goniff, eagerly. "You want to come with us?"
"No," replied Garrison. "I have too much paper work to do, but you can go."
"Oh, come on, Craig," objected Terry. "It's not going to kill you to come along just this once."
"I am backed up with paperwork. It's part of what I'm here to do," replied Garrison
Terry shrugged, "So Actor and I will help you with it tomorrow."
The con man's eyebrows went up. "Thank you for volunteering my time, Cara," he said.
"Really, Caro, it'll give you something to do," replied Terry, grinning at him.
"I have more than enough activities planned for tomorrow, thank you."
"What?" teased Terry, "sit, smoke and read? You can do that and read intelligence."
"He's got clearance?" asked Monty in confusion.
"No," was Craig's unconcerned reply. "He's just good at it."
"Yeah, well, 'e's bloomin' good at everything, ain't 'e now," said Goniff in disgust. "We goin' out the window or the door?"
"Door," said Terry. "Monty has to wear his uniform. It's no good climbing down the trellis."
Monty sent a puzzled look to Craig.
The older brother shook his head, "Don't ask." The lieutenant looked at his notorious men. "Try not to get in a fight tonight, Guys."
"Aw, Warden," said Casino with an insincere smile, "Would we get into a fight with your brother along?"
"Why not?" answered Craig. "You do when you have my sister along."
"That's only because I'm wheelman," said Terry innocently.
"On the Continent, not in England," said Craig shortly.
The young woman ignored him. She glanced around the table at the empty plates. "Okay, somebody help me with the dishes. The sooner they're done the sooner we can get out of here. I have a good feeling I'm going to beat Chief at darts tonight."
"No you won't," said the Indian quietly with a small smile.