When Violet parked in her driveway, she leaned her head on the steering wheel and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. It had been a frustrating journey, for at times, she was hardly conscious of where she was and what she was doing. Surely God must have given her special attention on the long drive home, because in her present mental state of mind, she didn’t believe she was capable of driving an automobile.
After she put Kansas City behind her, she had pushed the threat of her grandfather in the background, but even then she couldn’t concentrate on operating the auto. Over and over she wondered how to effect a reconciliation with Roger, or if she should even try, but now that she was back in Maitland, she had an overpowering desire to see him. All her life, she had been alone, but she had gotten accustomed to Roger’s company and care, and she was completely bereft without him. But if he no longer wanted her? She could barely stand the thought. She admitted that she couldn’t blame any man for not wanting to marry a person with a family background such as hers. But that hadn’t seemed to matter to Roger. Perhaps she was reading something into his refusal to come to Kansas City that he hadn’t intended. Was it fair to deny him the opportunity to defend himself?
Again she had no control over her actions as she went immediately to the phone and dialed Roger’s number. Misty answered, and when Violet asked for Roger she said, “He isn’t here, Miss Conley. Right after lunch, he put the dogs in the truck, and I suppose he went to the farm.”
After thanking Misty, Violet changed into rugged clothing and headed out of town. Mentally and physically, she was exhausted, but she would never rest until she saw Roger, believing she would be able to tell from his facial expression if he was through with her.
She parked her car beside his house and walked up the farm road toward the hillock. An hour later, she was sitting on the tailgate of the truck when he came out of the trees followed by the two dogs, who set up a howl when they saw her.
Did his steps decelerate as if he were reluctant to meet her? She couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t speak when he came to the truck. He went through the regular ritual of giving the animals food and drink before he came to stand beside her.
“When did you get back?” he asked.
“About noon.” She looked at him piercingly. “I wondered if I should return at all.”
He playfully chucked her under the chin, but his dark eyes were watchful as he said, “Did becoming a rich woman sound better than anything you could find in Maitland?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Roger, do you think any amount of money would make up for losing you? Why have you been so cold and distant with me this week? I thought if there was any person in this whole world I could depend upon to understand what I’ve endured the past few days, it was you.” Her lower lip quivered, and she clamped it between her teeth to stop the trembling, but she couldn’t do anything about the tears that cascaded down her cheeks.
“But I haven’t been…” Roger began, as he moved closer and stood eye level with her as she sat on the truck.
“Yes, you have. You told me once you would be there for me any time I needed you, and I’ve never needed support as much as I have this past week, and you wouldn’t even let me talk to you about it.”
Her tears turned into sobs, and Roger gathered her into his arms. “Oh, my dear, you have it all wrong. I was trying to do what was best for you—I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He rocked her back and forth in his embrace, and her body shook as her sobs faded into the plaintive cries of a wounded animal. Roger was crying, too, and he couldn’t speak, but finally he swiped his eyes with the back of his hand and cleared his throat noisily.
“Come, sweetheart, let’s drive down to the house. You’re cold, and we need to clear up this misunderstanding between us.” He lifted her from the seat and carried her to the truck cab. He soon secured the dogs, and they drove in silence to the house.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, as he opened the door into his retreat.
“Probably. I haven’t eaten anything today. I may not have eaten yesterday—I don’t remember.”
He turned on the heater. “Let me take your coat,” Roger said. “The room will heat in a hurry. We’ll eat later, but let’s talk first.”
They sat on the couch, and Roger pulled her close, for Violet was still shaking, and she didn’t know if the trembling was caused from cold or stress.
“You couldn’t have felt more lonely than I have this week,” he said. “When you telephoned Tuesday night and said your grandfather wanted to make you his heir, and that he would accept me sight unseen as your husband, and all it would cost me was to change my name to Conley, I thought that was funny, at first. Then, I flipped on the late news and saw the telecast where you were at your grandfather’s palatial home, wearing that fancy black dress and sporting diamonds that I couldn’t buy with ten years’ salary, seemingly right at home in that environment. Talk about feeling alone! I didn’t sleep at all that night, afraid of losing you, saddened by how this turn of events could ruin our lives.”
“But I told you—I was virtually forced to stay for that reception and dressed up like a mannequin by his servant. My grandfather is a man who will not take no for an answer. He practically imprisoned me.”
“Well, he will have to take no from me. I couldn’t possibly be happy as your husband if I succumbed to the lure of riches, changed my name to Conley and became a tool of your grandfather’s. But on the other hand, I didn’t think I had the right to deny you your rightful inheritance, and if you wanted to take him up on his proposal, I wouldn’t stand in your way. I would sacrifice my happiness for yours.”
Violet pushed out of his arms, and her vivid eyes blazed in anger. “I wish people would stop being so self-sacrificial for me. My mother denied me for years because she was doing what was best for me, and I grew up without knowing my mother. And you plunged me to the depth of despair when you told me I was on my own ‘with this one.’ Did you consider that I didn’t believe I should reject my grandfather’s proposal without discussing it with you? We’re engaged to be married—I thought from now on, we didn’t make independent decisions.”
Roger chuckled, kissed her lightly on the lips and hugged her close again.
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Not many men would turn down a chance to become a millionaire overnight. You’ve admitted that it won’t be easy for you to put two children through college and take on a new family besides. If you were willing to work for my grandfather, why should I say no for you?”
He smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’ll admit that I was tempted for a while. My parents were poor, and my mother needs everything she has for her own livelihood—I will never inherit anything from her. What I have, I’ve worked for, and when the going has been rough, I’ve often wondered how it would be to never have to worry about where my next dollar would come from. But I’ve heard of Josiah Conley, and although I hadn’t connected him with you, he has the reputation of being a hard man—he wouldn’t give us everything he has without expecting a lot in return. I don’t believe we could have a happy marriage living in his household.”
“Neither do I. That day I went to his house, I felt like a prisoner. He was determined that I was going to stay there, and I had to slip out of the house when he was busy elsewhere to even return to my hotel. I changed hotels, and he found me there, but I left Kansas City without returning his calls, for when I found out how he had manipulated my mother’s trial, I knew there was no place for him in my life. That’s why I telephoned you—I hoped you would come to me as you had when Mother died, go with me to tell my grandfather we were rejecting his offer, and drive home with me. I knew he wouldn’t accept my refusal if I didn’t have your support, but when you were so unapproachable, I wouldn’t insist.”
Roger pulled her close. He kissed her closed eyelids, her throbbing throat, the tips of her ears, and each finger. When he came to her lips, the dull heartache that Violet had endured for the past few days disappeared, and she laced her arms behind his neck, cherishing the warmth and strength of his embrace. The agony of the past week receded, and his caresses brought assurance of a future that she was eager to start.
“Let me promise you something now,” Roger whispered, his lips nuzzling the soft curve of her throat. “I’ll never forsake you again—no matter what you face, I’ll be there. Any decisions we make from now on, we’ll make them together. This vow is just as sacred to me as the one I’ll take on our wedding day when I promise to love you ‘until death do us part.’”
When he ended their embrace, Violet said, “Then it seems we’ve agreed that we have no interest in accepting my grandfather’s proposal, but we have to make a decision on that documentary about my mother and father. And don’t tell me that I’m on ‘my own’ with it. It’s a sordid story, and we may not want our children to have to live with its aftermath if we make the facts widespread.”
“I want to hear about what you learned from the lawyer, but if you haven’t had any food today, we must find a restaurant. I have snack food in this house, but nothing substantial. I’ll leave the truck here, and we can go in your car to a restaurant in a nearby town.”
“I do feel hungry, but I don’t want to eat in Maitland.” She ran her fingers over her hair and touched her hot, swollen face. “I must look terrible.”
Roger kissed the tip of her red, sniffy nose. “Not to me. You look wonderful, especially when I’ve been living with the fear that I’d lost you.”
“I dread going back to school tomorrow, but I’ll have to make some preparations tonight, so after we’ve eaten, I’ll go home and work. Perhaps we can be together tomorrow night.”
“I go on night shift in a few hours for a week, but I can see you early tomorrow evening.”
On their way to the restaurant, Violet told Roger briefly about the death of Ryan Conley by her mother’s hand, and they agreed that in the interest of justice the facts of the trial should be aired on television.
When the phone rang right before bedtime, Violet assumed it was Roger checking in to see how she felt, but to her surprise, Olivia Holland was on the phone.
“I hoped that I would catch you at home,” Mrs. Holland said in the cultivated, honey tones she used when she wanted to be the most pleasing. “Larry said you were due back for school in the morning.”
“Yes, I came home about noon today.”
There was a pause, which Mrs. Holland finally broke. “I was pleased to learn that you are related to the Kansas City Conleys. I met your grandparents several years ago at a political rally in Saint Louis. I hope you will remember me to them the next time you see them.”
Apparently Roger wasn’t the only Maitland resident to see her in the splendor of the Conley mansion.
“My grandmother died a few years ago, and I doubt that I will be going there again. I went to Kansas City for another purpose, but my grandfather had asked to see me, so I did pay him a visit, but I had little in common with him, so we won’t be developing a filial relationship.”
“But, Violet, if you’ll forgive me for advising you, if Josiah Conley wants to recognize you, it would be well for you to accept his patronage. He’s a big man in that region, and he could do much for you.”
Yes, he could make me a prisoner to his will and plans, Violet thought, but she let Mrs. Holland ramble on.
“I appreciate your concern, Mrs. Holland, but this is a matter I will have to work out with my grandfather.”
Before Mrs. Holland terminated the conversation, Violet was half tempted to tell her that Josiah Conley would make her his heir if she would come to live with him, marry and have a family to carry on the family fortune. Mrs. Holland would probably rouse Larry out of his easy chair and send him over to propose immediately, but she resisted the temptation. Violet didn’t intend to circulate the fact that she’d had a multimillion-dollar legacy laid at her feet and that she was going to reject it.
Monday was a hectic time for Violet. The first day back after a long break was always a difficult time to corral the students into working, but after three years of teaching, Violet expected that. What she did not expect was all the attention she received because of the reception she had attended at the Conley mansion in Kansas City. Everyone in Maitland must know by now about her connection to the Czar of the Midwest, as she had learned Josiah Conley was often called.
She hadn’t been in her room ten minutes when Larry stopped in, all smiles. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she cringed at his touch.
“It’s good to see you this morning, Violet. All ready for the avalanche of students?”
She moved away from his embrace as she continued to place worksheets on the students’ desks. She glanced at the clock. “I’d better be ready in twenty minutes, but it’s always hard for me to be enthusiastic after a holiday and therefore it’s difficult to motivate the students.”
“I would think that the terrific week you had would have given you lots of motivation. Why didn’t you tell me you were related to the Kansas City Conleys?”
“I didn’t know it myself until two months ago. I told you that I didn’t know anything about my father’s people.” She stopped working long enough to give him a piercing glance.
He was toying with a paperweight on her desk and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It doesn’t make any difference to me.”
“A few months ago I was convinced that my questionable heritage was vastly important to you.”
The hall barriers had been removed, and students were entering the halls, laughing and shouting, happy to see their peers after the break. Larry started toward the door. “May I take you to dinner one night this week?”
“No, thank you, Larry. I suppose you should know that Roger Gibson and I are engaged—we plan to be married in June.”
He stopped abruptly. “Marry Roger Gibson? You told me he was nothing to you but a friend.”
“Yes, and I was as surprised as you are to learn that, while he is my best friend, he’s also the man I love and want to marry.”
“I suppose he knew that you are Josiah Conley’s granddaughter.”
“As a matter of fact, he does know, but he asked me to marry him before he knew it. What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting nothing—just figure it out for yourself.”
Angrily, Violet said, “Don’t judge other people’s actions by your own, Larry.”
Violet lost count of how many pupils mentioned seeing her on television, and several of the girls made comments, such as, “Gee, it didn’t even look like you, Miss Conley, with all of those diamonds and that sleek dress. Did you enjoy that big party?”
Misty sidled up to her and said quietly, with a touch of Roger’s humor, “I didn’t know my new mama was a society lady.”
“She isn’t,” Violet replied. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You’ll have to put up with the same old Violet Conley you’ve always known.”
With a slight grin, Misty said, “That suits me.”
Before the closing bell rang, Violet rued the day she was born a Conley. When Nan came in after the closing bell, Violet said, “How fickle can people be? Where are our values? When my mother’s prison record became known, people turned against me. When they learn that I have a rich grandfather, although he is a scoundrel, and by some accounts, should be in prison, I’ve become the most popular person on the staff. Where are our values?” she repeated.
“Face it! Generally speaking, people are materialistic, and we’re judged not by what we are, but by what we have.”
“I don’t have any more now than I did six months ago, and never will inherit any of the Conley millions. The cost is too great.”
Nan laughed. “When you come into a fortune, don’t forget who your true friends were when you were poor.”
“Cut it out, Nan. I’ve had about all I can take today. I don’t enjoy being in the limelight.”
“As I told you when there was such a furor over your mother, this will all die down when something else unusual happens to excite the populace. Maitland is a nice place to live, but it is a small town, and no one can have any secrets. If you lived in a large city, your debut into society would hardly have been noticed.”
“I’m worried that all of this publicity might come between Roger and me.”
They walked out of the school together, and Nan reassured, “You don’t have anything to worry about. Roger has a level head on his shoulders.”
At home, she had two calls on her answering machine. One was from Josiah Conley’s secretary, which she erased without answering. The other was from Peter Pierce. He hadn’t wasted any time, she thought wryly.
She returned his call, and when he answered the phone, she identified herself and said, “I’ve decided to authorize the documentary on the episode between my mother and father. You will have to contact my attorney for details and also for any financial arrangements. I think you met William O’Brien when you were previously in Kansas City.”
After she completed that call, Violet telephoned O’Brien.
“Right or wrong,” she said as soon as the attorney answered the phone, “I’ve authorized Peter Pierce to air the story of my parents’ problems. I hope you will act for me in deciding what information to release and also the financial arrangements. He had told me that he would pay $500,000 for publishing rights, and if you don’t think that is enough, see that he pays what is just. Whatever the proceeds, I want you to set up the amount in a Linda Conley Foundation to provide college scholarships for deserving girls who couldn’t further their education in any other way.”
“I’ll be happy to act for you in the matter, but I’ll telephone you with the details before any papers are signed. And what about the bank account that your mother had—shall I transfer that to you now?”
“Yes. I’ll use that money, rather than put it in the foundation, for I have her funeral expenses to pay, and I do plan to marry soon. I believe that is the way Mother would want it. She earned that money, and I’m not hesitant to use it, but I don’t want to profit from the documentary, to prove to myself, if to no one else, that my motives weren’t mercenary.”
“Just a word of warning, Violet. You’ll not be able to avoid Josiah Conley. The man is determined to get what he wants, and he will use every force at his command to bend you to his will. He wants you to raise up a dynasty for him, but he’s not above casting you aside as soon as you provide him with a grandson or two.”
“Isn’t there anything good about him? I refuse to believe that there isn’t something worthwhile in everybody.”
“I’ll admit I’m biased against him, but I see nothing in him to admire.”
“Despite all I’d heard about him, I couldn’t help but like the man. He can be charming if he wants to be.”
“So can any scoundrel! Be careful in any dealings with him.”
“I’ve been wondering if I shouldn’t notify him by mail that I’m not interested in accepting his proposition. As my attorney, will you write to him and tell him my decision?”
“With pleasure,” O’Brien assured her. “I’ll mail you a copy.”
“Please be kind about it. I don’t want to antagonize him any more than I have to.”
After her conversation with O’Brien, Violet had little appetite, but she placed a chicken breast in the broiler, and while it cooked, she prepared a salad and toasted a slice of sourdough bread. During her meal, she looked out the dining room window and marveled at how the foliage in her backyard had changed in the week she had been gone. Daffodils and tulips created an aura of yellow, red and pink hues. The forsythia’s yellow blooms swayed gently in the southwest breeze. For beauty, her yard certainly came off second best when compared with the floral display at the Conley mansion, but she liked this one better.
When the kitchen was tidied, Violet took a cup of tea and went to the living room. She felt spiritually drained, and she picked up the Bible before she settled into her lounge chair. She was troubled about her own personality, and what she had to offer Roger. She pondered the age-old question of the greatest determinant in molding character—heredity or environment? Had she inherited any of the abominable traits of the Conleys? What of her father’s temper or her grandfather’s domineering attitude—did she have the same flaw in her character, lurking somewhere beneath the surface waiting to assert itself? Could she hope that if she inherited anything from the Conleys that it might be from her grandmother?
The future seemed bleak when she dwelt on these possibilities, but as she riffled the pages of the Bible in her lap, she knew without a doubt that, like her mother, she was hesitant to cause conflict. She dreaded the thought of being involved in a confrontation with her grandfather that was bound to come when he learned about the documentary, but she wasn’t as troubled as she might have been a few months ago. God had provided the guidance and support she needed to bring her mother into her home, to cope with Linda’s death, to accept her father’s faulty character and the terrible circumstances that led to his death by his wife’s hand, and the disappointment and loss she felt when Roger had forsaken her. These were not situations that Violet would ever want to experience again, but as she looked back on them, she knew that each crisis and its resolution had increased her faith in God and her realization that nothing she encountered in the future would remove her beyond the realm of His care. It was a comforting thought.
She opened the Bible to the Psalms. What a blessing that, years before the birth of Christ, these inspired writers had been able to put into words the path that a Christian should follow. Violet looked down at Psalm 73 on the printed page before her and received encouragement from the revelation God had given to the psalmist: “Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And being with you, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Violet sensed that she couldn’t avoid an unpleasant confrontation with Josiah P. Conley, but with God’s help, she would know what to do, relying on Him for the guidance she needed. The comfort of God’s presence overwhelmed her, and she was at peace from the day’s frustrations. Violet was napping when Roger knocked, and she yawned when she opened the door.
“What a welcome!” Roger said, laughing. “I expected you to greet me with open arms, and all I get is a yawn.”
“I had just dropped off to sleep,” Violet excused herself. She spread out her arms. “But the arms are always open. Come on in.” She gave him a tight hug and picked up the teacup on the table. “I’ll make some fresh tea. That will awaken me. How was your day?”
“Frustrating!”
“Oh-oh! So was mine—we may come to logger-heads before the evening is over.”
He leaned on the snack bar while they waited for the water to boil. She dropped two tea bags into the teapot. “What made yours so frustrating?” Roger asked.
With a side glance at him, Violet said, “The staff and students at Maitland High are favorably impressed that I’m the granddaughter of Josiah B. Conley. My status has risen considerably. I was the most popular person on campus today.”
“And you found that displeasing?” he said, toying with a dish mat on the counter.
“Very much so. It particularly rankled when my principal asked me for a date this week. How could he have had the nerve?”
“I assume you turned him down.”
“Of course. My heart is already spoken for. I thought you knew that.”
“I suspected it.” He smiled at her and picked up the tray she had prepared and carried it to the living room. She sat on the couch, and he handed her a cup of tea and pulled up a footstool close to her.
“But as for Larry approaching you, his mother is probably pressuring him. If Olivia Holland can see any possibility of getting her hands on any of the Conley millions, she won’t pass it up.”
“That’s my opinion, too. I do think Larry is fond of me, but he does dance to his mother’s tune. She telephoned me last night and was all sweetness and charm. I didn’t bother to disillusion her by telling her the complete state of affairs between Josiah Conley and me, for I didn’t consider it any of her business.” She sipped on the tea, hesitating. “I told Larry that I planned to marry you in two months, and he was certainly annoyed, even to the extent of suggesting that your interest in me was influenced by my possible inheritance. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you that, but if you should hear it, I didn’t want you to think I believed it.”
Roger grimaced, causing the etched lines on his face to deepen. “Some of my acquaintances made similar remarks today. That’s one reason for my frustration.”
“Larry’s remark really upset me, for I feared that if you heard such a rumor it would scare you off again.”
He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Violet, I’ve made a vow to you. I’m in for the long haul—the only way I’ll leave you now is if you chase me away.”
Her fingers tightened around his strong hand. “That isn’t likely.”
When she started to tell him in detail what she had learned about her mother and father in Kansas City, Roger moved to the couch beside her, and with one arm around her shoulder, he took her hand. As the circumstances of her father’s death unfolded, Roger murmured compassionately more than once, and often used his handkerchief to blot the tears from Violet’s eyes.
When she concluded, she said, “It’s a sordid tale, but I’ve agreed to allow the program to be aired and have authorized my attorney in Kansas City to make the necessary negotiations.”
“Do you know how long before the program will be on television?”
“I have no idea, but Peter Pierce will want to present it as soon as possible, I should think, to be ahead of some other journalist who might not ask for permission.”
“Josiah Conley won’t be pleased.”
“I know! Mr. O’Brien has warned me that he won’t give up on his desire to have me move into his household and mother a dynasty for him, and that I should be aware of possible underhanded tactics.”
“I know Conley by reputation only, but he’s reported to be the kind of man who might exert pressure to have both of us lose our jobs so he could force us to do his bidding.”
“Does he has that much influence in Illinois?”
“I don’t think so, but if he should hook up with the Holland faction, we can expect anything.” He paused, and a whimsical expression crossed his face. “Violet, are you sure you really want to marry me? If you consider that Olivia Holland would welcome you gladly if you should effect a reconciliation with your grandfather, you’re actually turning down two fortunes to marry me, and I’ll never be able to provide you with anything more than a moderate living. Violet, are you sure?”
Violet gazed for a long moment into Roger’s deep brown eyes, and in a flash, her mind monitored all of the characteristics that had drawn her to him. He was a responsible father. He was respected in the community for his forcefulness as a law officer, and also for his compassion for those who were involved in crime. He had a sense of humor. His everyday living exemplified the tenets of his Christian beliefs. Violet’s hand lifted to caress Roger’s face, and the quick response in his eyes to her touch fortified her assurance that with this man she would find a marriage that would satisfy her physical and emotional needs as well as guarantee a secure and harmonious future. She kissed her fingers and rubbed them tenderly across his lips.
“Riches can’t provide what I want in a husband. Believe me, I’ve stopped looking back to the past. I want you. Are you trying to squirm out of marrying me?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“No, but I wanted to give you one last opportunity to back out before I gave you this.” He pulled a jeweler’s box from his pocket. He removed a diamond ring and placed it on the third finger of her left hand.
“Are you willing to accept this ring, remembering that you have to take me in the bargain?”
Violet caught her breath and held it momentarily as she looked down at the cluster of small diamonds, which probably didn’t total a carat, but even at that, was more expensive than Roger may have been able to afford. For a fleeting moment, she compared it to the ornate, multidiamonded ring that Josiah had made her wear at the reception, and it was an unfavorable comparison on the part of the Conley heirloom. The small ring that Roger offered her spelled freedom—freedom to be her own person, freedom to love Roger and rear their children as they wanted, freedom to worship God and to serve Him in the environment of a Christian home. On the other hand, she envisioned the expensive Conley ring as a collar that would enslave her and make her a bondwoman to her grandfather’s whims. Her decision didn’t take a second thought.
“I want to marry you now,” she said, “but I suppose we should hold to our original plans. At least, let’s announce it in the paper, so everyone will be aware.”
He kissed her as she moved closer into the shelter of his arms. She perceived that their life’s journey would not be without its problems and frustrations, but in Roger she had found the support she needed to weather the storms.
“Why not? There isn’t any need to keep our engagement secret. After all, we’re being married in two months.”