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  "I won't listen to this."

  "I'm at the Worth Hotel. I'll expect to hear from you tomorrow.” Justin rose. “I'm not making idle threats, Hugh. You loose that woman's grip on Jessica, or I'll sell, and then I'll find some other way to protect my daughter."

  "Mr. Calloway, I understand you're thinking of borrowing money from Cattleman's Bank."

  "Why, yes.” The man looked surprised. “Hugh Gresham's been very encouraging."

  "That's because he's going to call your notes when he's sure you can't pay up and then sell your company to Branch, Hubbard."

  Oscar Calloway went pale. Branch, Hubbard was the northern company that had been so anxious to buy him out. “How do you know this?” Calloway asked.

  "Because he was bragging about it, and because that's what he did to my father seventeen years ago. It's a little game he likes to play from time to time. If you don't believe me, check with these men.” Travis handed him a piece of paper on which he'd written the names of five other people who'd been tricked by Hugh Gresham in recent years. Then he turned to go.

  "What's your name?” the owner called after Travis.

  "Doesn't matter,” said Travis over his shoulder. “Just be sure you check into what I've told you before you borrow money from him."

  "I will,” said a bewildered Oscar Calloway, who had thought Hugh Gresham the most sympathetic banker he'd ever met.

  "If you decide against Gresham, maybe I can find you an honest investor,” Travis offered as a last incentive.

  "Justin must have been absolutely furious to threaten you like that,” cried Penelope, her eyes sparkling.

  "But the bank, Penelope,” Hugh reminded her anxiously.

  "Jessica has to stay. There's no question about that now, even though she's—well, you can't imagine what tedious opinions the girl has. About feathers and things."

  Hugh began to look hopeful.

  "Still, she's my daughter,” Penelope continued, glancing at him slyly. “I can hardly be expected to give up my own child now that we've finally been reunited."

  "I told him how fond you were of each other."

  "Did you see the jewels Travis gave her? What a shame her looks don't do them justice."

  "She's a handsome enough girl,” said Hugh, but without enthusiasm.

  "Oh, my dear.” Penelope laughed. “You don't have to stick up for Jessica, not when it's just between us. We both know how plain she is—too much Harte blood, poor girl."

  "Yes, well, we've got to think of the bank. If Justin offers his shares, it could cause a panic."

  "Not if you buy them."

  "But Penelope, that would be very costly. Especially after the expense of the wedding. I'm not sure you realize how much you spent."

  "Well, Travis must be very rich. His deposits will—"

  "He doesn't bank at Cattleman's."

  "Then insist that he do so, Hugh. And as for Justin's shares, you'll find the money.” She rose and patted him on the cheek. “You always do."

  "Even if I could get the money, I'd have to buy the shares through intermediaries. Justin wants to cause a run on the bank, Penelope. He wants to ruin us."

  "Then you'll just have to outsmart him, won't you? Think of how angry that will make him!” she murmured triumphantly. “We'll have his precious daughter and his shares in the bank."

  Gliding to the mirrored wall, she smoothed her hair into a more flattering wave, then turned to admire herself in profile. “You'll never believe where they've gone for the evening.” Penelope was studying the line of her chin, testing its firmness with a dissatisfied fingertip. “To hear some minstrel show provided by the streetcar company. It's at the park out by the water plant.” She give a little trill of laughter. “I'm afraid my daughter has rather plebeian tastes."

  "She strikes me as being unusually well educated."

  "Goodness, Hugh, education is not what makes a woman of refinement.” She ran an assessing palm over the flow of her skirt, then turned to view the back. “Not at all."

  Hugh wasn't much interested in what made a woman of refinement. He'd had two shocks in as many days. First, Justin Harte's threat, then the business of Calloway, who had decided, for no good reason, that he didn't want to expand his facilities, which meant a substantial loss in income that Hugh had been counting on. He couldn't understand it and wondered what ill luck would next come his way, over and above the continuing pressure of his wife's unbridled spending.

  They fell laughing onto the bed, having managed to evade Hugh and Penelope on returning from the park. “Hush,” whispered Jessica.

  "You hush,” Travis whispered back. “I'm not the one doing all the giggling."

  To stop him from tickling her, Jessica hugged his arms against his body and rolled toward the head of the bed.

  "I knew it,” said Travis. “You want to ravish me."

  "Tra-vis!"

  "And it's only fair. After all, it's your turn.” He broke her hold on his arms to fling them wide on the bed. “Go ahead,” he invited.

  Jessica sat up, breathless, and pushed back her loosened hair. “What are you talking about?"

  "First, I suppose you're going to take off my clothes."

  "I am not!"

  "Why aren't you? I did it for you last night."

  Jessica blushed and looked away. It had taken him a long time, and she had been helpless with desire by the end of the disrobing.

  "Don't you think I'd like to have the favor returned once in a while?” He gave her a wistful smile, comically exaggerated, and Jessica forgot her embarrassment as she started to giggle again. “I'm serious, Jessica. You can start right here.” He pulled his tie loose, having already discarded his jacket, and pointed to the top button of his shirt. “Or here, if you're in a hurry.” He caught her hand and brought it to rest against his trousers. Jessica drew back as if burned. “Or here.” He swept an arm across her waist and pulled her on top of him, then wrapped both arms around her shoulders as he kissed her. “Your hands are free. What are you going to take off me first?” She tried to wiggle away.

  "Don't be a sissy,” he teased. “You're one of the new women—intelligent, athletic—I'll bet you played basketball at school, didn't you?"

  She nodded. “I did until they brought in women's rules in ‘96. They were so afraid our delicate female systems might be damaged,” she explained scornfully, “that they took all the fun out of it."

  "There, you see. Tonight's your chance to get even. I'm not worried about your delicate female system. I just want to be taken advantage of in the most shocking ways you can think of."

  Jessica looked thoroughly confused. “Travis, I can't think of any—any..."

  Travis laughed. “Sweetheart, start with my clothes—accompanied by kisses and so forth. After that, if you really put your heart into it, I'm sure you'll think of something else."

  Jessica looked at him curiously, then glanced at all the buttons that stood between Travis and nakedness. She didn't feel very confident that she knew how to play this new game, but she tucked her feet under her skirt and leaned forward to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

  "Jess, I'm not one of Sissie's grubby kids that you're undressing to plunk into a tub of hot water."

  She had just freed the button over his diaphragm and glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. Then she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on the skin where her hand had been, hoping that wasn't an unacceptable thing to do. There was a narrowing line of hair that disappeared into his trousers and tickled her lips.

  "Use your tongue,” he said softly.

  Jessica touched the skin hesitantly with her tongue. What a curious sensation. She shivered with excitement.

  "Now kiss my navel."

  He had done that to her once, and she'd thought she might jump right out of her skin. Would he feel the same way? She moved her mouth to the small hair-swirled indentation and, without being asked, flicked her tongue into it. Travis groaned, the sound of which she found electrifying.

&nb
sp; "Get the trousers, sweetheart."

  Oh, God, Jessica didn't want to do that. Why had she let him nudge her into this? Why—he tumbled her thoughts into disarray by putting her fingers against the top button. The next one told her that he was fully aroused, and she was unable to avoid touching his erection, which she had never done, wouldn't have dreamed of doing.

  "Ah, Jessie,” he sighed, and she glanced up at the taut pleasure in his face, the arched lines of his neck, which gave her a dizzying sense of power and set her trembling with arousal herself. After that, she stripped him eagerly and then stopped because she couldn't quite think of what else to do.

  She looked up into his face hopefully, and smiling, he said, “Now you. I don't want to be the only naked, excited person in this room.” Jessica nodded and reached for the lamp, but he covered her hand with his. “If we can make love in the morning by sunlight, we can make love in the evening by lamplight."

  Hands trembling, she began to deal with her own buttons. “Slowly,” he advised her. “Let me enjoy it.” And he began to coach her in the order of removal: first the beige silk dress with its high lace collar and mantle of tucks, then the silk petticoat, layered V's of ruffles decorating the bottom. When she was down to her camisole and drawers, and feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Travis sat up. “I'll take over now,” he announced and relieved her of the drawers, then ran his lips over her legs as he rolled her stockings down. “You'd make a wonderful can-can girl,” he murmured.

  "What's that?” Jessica asked suspiciously.

  "A girl who dances around on the stage in a ruffled petticoat showing her garters.” Travis was kissing her toes when she pushed him over. For a moment he was too surprised to react. Then grinning, he grabbed her foot and pulled her down on top of him where he lay on the flowered carpet beside the bed. “Now, sweetheart, I've got you just where I wanted you in the first place."

  "On the floor?” she asked, giggling.

  "No, on top of me. We're going to try it a new way."

  "What new way?” she asked, alarmed.

  "You'll like it,” he assured her, lifting her astride his hips. She did.

  Travis strode along Houston Street feeling very pleased with himself. He had left his wife in bed looking sleepy, tousled, and slightly embarrassed with herself, but Travis was delighted. Once he overcame her inhibitions, she was a wonderful bed partner, full of laughter and passion. It would be better for the marriage, he admitted to himself, if they could move out of Penelope Gresham's house, but he had goals to achieve other than the pleasures of the body, so he and Jessica would have to stay where they were for the time being. His success so far in undermining his stepfather-in-law had been phenomenal, and it was so easy. The Armour people were long gone, and Calloway had decided that he didn't need a loan after all.

  Hugh was obviously feeling the pressure, for he had urged Travis to transfer his money to the Cattleman's Bank. Interesting. Was Hugh dipping into depositors’ funds? Of course, Travis had no intention of putting a penny in Cattleman's, not when he hoped to bring the bank down and Gresham with it. However, Hugh's air of desperation told Travis that his stepfather-in-law had problems, as would any man with a wife who spent money the way Penelope did. As for Penelope, there were so many things that were important to her, things that he might be able to take away from her—beginning with money and social position.

  Yes, he'd get the Greshams, and in the meantime his own fortunes were improving. His oil business in Corsicana was thriving without too much attention from him. He'd heard that Captain Anthony Lucas in Beaumont, whose oil exploration he'd been keeping track of, had run out of money and was seeking eastern financing. Travis found that encouraging. The sooner Lucas got hold of the money to bring in a well, the sooner Travis's land investments in the area would begin to pay off. Maybe he'd move his drilling company there after the first well came in. He'd have to see. But that was in the future. For now he'd keep his information lines open and let someone else spend the initial development money.

  Today he had a more important errand—a present for Jessie, his increasingly delightful wife. Travis chuckled and headed across the square toward a ladies’ wear store. Jessica's birthday was coming up, and he had to find a suitable present. Now what would catch her fancy?

  "Parnell."

  Travis groaned to himself, anticipating that he was about to have a strip torn off his hide.

  "We need to have a talk.” Justin Harte, glancing at his pocket watch, nodded toward a restaurant beside the shop. Reluctantly, Travis followed him to a table.

  "How's Jessica?"

  "Wonderful,” said Travis enthusiastically.

  Justin's eyebrows went up. Parnell hadn't said that like a man who'd married to secure financing from one or both sides of his wife's family. Maybe they'd misjudged him. “Couldn't you have married her in the ordinary way? Eloping seems a little drastic.” Justin, trying hard not to lose his temper, signaled a waiter, and both men ordered coffee.

  "We didn't want to wait,” said Travis, “and your wife had evidently said something to Jessica about favoring long engagements."

  Justin sighed. It was as Anne had feared. She'd triggered the hasty marriage herself, and Justin knew that, given the opportunity, he'd have supported her. “And Penelope—why did you have to bring her into it?"

  Travis considered the question. Obviously, he couldn't tell the whole truth, although he thought that, under other circumstances, Justin Harte might have sympathized with the vendetta against the Greshams. “You may not realize it,” he began slowly, “but Jessie has known for a long time that she's not a—not a real member of your family."

  "She damn well is!” said Justin. His coffee had arrived, and he stirred it vigorously although he'd put neither sugar nor cream in his cup.

  "Well, she didn't feel like it. She didn't even know she was your daughter."

  Justin winced.

  "She thought she was a foundling—that's the way she put it—and no one would answer her questions.” Travis sipped his own coffee and, finding it bitter, reached for the sugar bowl. “Because not knowing was hurting her so much, I wanted to find out who her real parents were if I could, and it wasn't too hard once I set my mind to it."

  "I don't suppose it was,” said Justin. “People have long memories, but you should have left well enough alone."

  "I don't see that,” said Travis. “It made her happy to know that she was your blood daughter, and it's made her happy to know her real mother."

  "That won't last long,” Justin muttered, “as you'd realize if you knew Penelope."

  I do know Penelope, thought Travis, but he said nothing.

  "The woman's not to be trusted. She'll do Jessica harm."

  "Don't you think you're overreacting?” asked Travis mildly.

  "No, I'm not, and I'm going to tell you something very few people know, something we never wanted Jessica to know and still don't if it can be helped."

  More and more curious, thought Travis. Was Justin going to explain how Anne Harte happened to have borne him two sons before his wife gave birth to his daughter?

  "Penelope tried to kill Jessica when she was just a few months old, tried to smother her with a pillow. That's one of the reasons I divorced her and took the baby with me."

  Travis felt cold fingers crawling up his spine. Kill Jessica? How could that be? He'd known Penelope to be vicious. He'd seen it in her attitude toward his father, but murder? He didn't believe it. She was too self-protective for that. “Did you see this?” he asked Justin.

  "No, Jessica's nurse saw it. A woman named Calliope."

  Travis felt a wave of relief. He knew how his mother-in-law treated servants—very badly. The nurse had probably hated her and made up the story in a bid for revenge, and Justin, with good reason to want to divest himself of his wife, had chosen to accept this Calliope's story.

  "If you don't believe me, talk to Calliope,” said Justin. “She's still alive. You'll find her out on Anne's ranch, th
e Rocking T in Parker County."

  Travis shrugged. What could he say to a man who obviously hated his ex-wife enough to believe anything of her? “Why didn't you do something about it then?"

  "I wish I had,” said Justin broodingly. “At the time, I wanted to avoid scandal. As long as Jessica stayed with me, I thought she'd be all right."

  "She's still all right,” said Travis. “Penelope treats her like a princess."

  Justin looked surprised, then muttered again, “It won't last.” He stared narrowly at his son-in-law. “You're not going to get her out of there, are you?"

  "I think Jessica deserves a chance to get to know her real mother,” he replied.

  "Anne is her real mother!” Then Justin sighed. “A better parent to her than I was, unfortunately. Well, if you won't take care of it, I will. I've already told Hugh that if he doesn't separate them, I'll sell my shares in Cattleman's and cause a run on the bank."

  Travis felt an exultant flash of triumph. Unwittingly, Justin was going to help him destroy Hugh. “Look, Mr. Harte, why don't I bring Jessie to the Worth tonight, and we'll all have dinner together. She'd be very happy to know you don't hate her for running off."

  "Hate her?” said Justin sadly. “Is that what she thinks? I wish I could meet you, but I've got to catch the train to Galveston in just about twenty minutes."

  "That's too bad,” said Travis, but he wasn't, on reflection, particularly disappointed. He didn't want Justin Harte frightening Jessica with wild tales about Penelope. His mother-in-law had been treating Jessie like a princess, and the girl deserved the generosity she was receiving after so many years of being treated with stingy suspicion. Justin Harte might love his daughter—Travis believed he did—but the man had hurt her.

  "Give her our love, Anne's and mine,” Justin was saying. “Anne will be sending her things and would be grateful to hear from her."

  "I'll tell Jess,” Travis agreed, and the two of them walked together from the restaurant, Justin Harte turning toward the Texas and Pacific Station, Travis heading again for the ladies’ wear shop.

  So Justin was going to attack the bank? Travis thought of his father, coming to Cattleman's, so optimistic, although he was desperate for help. Soon the bank would be gone and Gresham as desperate as Will Parnell had been. As for that story about Penelope, it was obviously the tale of a disgruntled servant, like the maid who'd killed off Penelope's plants. Travis felt another stab of uneasiness, but he shook it off. Penelope was too canny to have done anything that would have endangered herself.