Cadence

Twenty

“Not a Jamison anymore? Why would you believe that, because you gave her your name?” The older man strode forward his ire fully piqued in the face of what he felt a blatant insult to his proud family name. “The Langston name does not change who she is.”

“You have no idea who she is,” Curtis growled, slamming a fist onto the desktop, “and whether you like it or not, she is my wife.”

“Oh, aye,” Robert’s blue eyes gleamed, “and what wiles did you fall prey to that she can now call herself yer wife?” He drew himself to his full towering height to stare contemptuously at his son. “I should have forbidden this last fall when I read in that damned gossip column that the two of you were cavorting about in public. I should have put my foot down then.”

“Put your foot down?” Curtis may not be quite so tall as his father but he was near twice as thick in pure brawn, and crossed powerful arms across his chest. He hadn’t earned a reputation for being obstinate lightly; no man stared him down, especially his father. “Need I remind you I am my own man? I pulled myself up from nothing to become what I am today. I did it myself, without you, without teachers, and without your bloody money!”

“From nothing, boy?”

*       *       *

Cadence flinched and nearly fell from her precarious perch on the edge of the settee as a resounding crash emanated from the study down the hall.

Craig seemed unperturbed as he drummed his fingers on the mantel above the fireplace. “They’ve been in there for a while.” He turned to his older brother, “Do you think it’s time to intervene?”

“You are more than welcome to intervene,” David gestured to the door, “but I’m not going to risk life and limb getting into the middle of that.” To Cadence he said, “Don’t worry. The two of them always fight like this.”

“Yes, well, I wish they wouldn’t.” Genie Langston, Curtis’s stepmother, stepped into the room with a lovely rose colored tea service. “Would anyone like some tea or coffee?” The pretty woman turned a warm smile to Cadence and her nerves quieted no small degree. Lifting a cup Genie sat beside her on the settee and said, “Cadence, dear, you must tell me everything. Was it terribly romantic to be married in London? I have always wanted to travel to Europe.”

Cadence was surprised by the ease with which the older woman accepted the circumstances of her stepson’s marriage. Most women were not so open-minded about a young couple eloping across the sea. “London was lovely,” Cadence smiled feeling her guard slip just a bit beneath Genie’s kind gaze. Though she blushed, thinking of the two weeks she’d spent with Curtis in London and romantic could hardly describe those magical days… and nights.

“It’s very difficult to picture Curtis as romantic,” David joked, and Craig joined him in laughter.

“Do you remember that time when he got caught in the barn with the girl from the saloon?”

Craig grinned. “Misty? How could I forget? What was he—all of fifteen at the time?”

“I think so.”

The parlor door exploded inward and Curtis strode out with his father hot on his heels.

Genie was across the room in a flash ready to act as a buffer. “Curtis,” she smiled at her stepson before turning a withering glare on her husband. “Will you be staying with us?”

“No,” he said abruptly. “Craig, Davy, thank you for your help today. I’ll keep you posted.”

David stepped forward to clasp his hand warmly. “If you need anything else, just say the word.”