Seven Brides - Fern Part 12

But along with the euphoria came disgust that she could be so easily flattered, that her objections to the way Madison had treated her, and what he was trying to do, could be so easily swayed by a little attention. Okay, so fighting Reed and Pike was more than a little thing, but she was still a foolish, fickle female to think that Madison would feel any different about her, or the things that really mattered.

It was fine to be upset about his being in jail. It was okay not to want him to hang when he was trying to defend her honor. But he had been fighting for a principle. Madison was big on principle. It was just people he had trouble with.

By the time she reached the jail, she didn't feel quite so jaunty. Deputy Tom Carson was sitting outside.

"I hear you have Madison Randolph locked up for killing Pike," she said.

"He's not dead yet," Tom said. "We're keeping him till we find out if he's going to make it." "But Mr. Randolph wasn't wearing a gun. Pike was shot with his own gun."

"Folks don't agree on what happened," Tom said. "Some say Randolph took Pike's gun and shot him in cold blood."

"But why would he do that? He doesn't even know Pike."

"Beats me, but then I don't try to understand these Texans."

Fern started to tell him Madison came from Boston, not Texas, but decided she was wasting her time. "Where is he?"

"Inside, but you can't see him."

"Try and stop me," Fern said as she strode past.

Chapter Nine.

''Now see here, Fern, it ain't fair you being a man most of the time and a girl when it suits you," Tom said, following her.

"I'd be a man all the time if I had the choice." She shoved him back outside and closed the door.

She felt a little nervous about facing Madison, but being back in her pants and vest gave her more confidence. She had felt terribly vulnerable in Rose's nightgown, especially knowing that Madison had undressed her. She wondered how much of her he had touched. Better she didn't know. Just thinking about it made her hot all over. No man had touched her since that terrible night eight years ago.

He was in the first cell she came to. He jumped to his feet when he saw her, stopping her in her tracks with his coldly furious gaze.

"Have you come to gloat, or are you here to make sure I hang next to Hen?" The vehemence of his words shocked Fern. It didn't surprise her that he was embarra.s.sed for her to see him in jail, but it never occurred to her that he would think she wanted to see him hang. That hurt almost as much as the pain in her chest.

After what you've said about his brother, how would he know that?

Didn't he know she only felt that way because she wanted to see Troy's killer punished? She didn't dislike the Randolphs, and she didn't dislike him, at least not any more. It was his reason for being in Abilene that she hated.

"I was worried. I knew you couldn't kill Pike." She held up the basket. "I brought you some breakfast."

"You ought to be a happy woman today," Madison said, ignoring the proffered food. "Two Randolph brothers in jail and not likely to get out soon. Now if you can just get George to do something foolishbut that won't be easy because George is not a foolish manyou can have all three of us locked away. But if you plan to hang us, you're going to need a lot of ropes. There are more Randolphs where we came from."

"They're not going to hang you," Fern said. "Amos said it wasn't your fault."

Madison paced his cell like a caged animal, his anger curbed and dangerous. "This is a Randolph you're talking about, a dude, a fancy Eastern lawyer trying to circ.u.mvent justice, a Boston sn.o.b who looks down his nose at anybody not born and bred in the original thirteen. You know it's my fault."

"Madison, do you think it's fair to" Hen interrupted.

"I'm just repeating the things she said to me," Madison said, "with an occasional contribution from you and George. I don't want her to think I'm in very good standing with anybody."

"Amos told me everything that happened," Fern said.

"And you believed him? I'm disappointed."

"I know I haven't been very nice to you, but I never thought anybody would blame you for what happened to me. I certainly never expected Reed to imply that . . . to say . . . I . . ."

Fern was so upset she could hardly keep her voice under control.

"You expect me to believe that fight wasn't your idea, that two people who'd never seen me before just walked up and picked a fight?"

"You can't really believe I'd set somebody on you."

"Why not? It would have been a convenient way to get rid of me, settle Hen's hash, and make sure George never brought any more cows to Abilene. A Randolph-free town. I thought that's what you wanted."

He wasn't listening to a word she said. He was convinced she had paid Reed and Pike to attack him, and nothing she said seemed able to punch through his anger.

"You're twisting what I said."

"Tell me what you said."

What had she said? A lot of things she regretted now.

"I said a lot of things I shouldn't have," Fern shot back, "but I'd never sink low enough to ask somebody else to drive you out of town. I'd do that myself."

Madison hooked her with his fiery gaze. "After what has happened to me in the last two days, there is nothing on G.o.d's green earth that's going to get me out of this town until I've finished what I came to do. I don't know what you did or didn't do. I don't care what you meant or didn't mean. I didn't shoot Pike Carroll, and Hen didn't kill your cousin. And before I'm done, every person in this town is going to know it."

"I didn't"

"Now you'd better get back to Mrs. Abbott's. I've got some sleep to catch up on. After your fall yesterday, you've got no business being out of bed. You must be hurting like h.e.l.l."

She looked at the food she had brought and felt like an idiot. He wouldn't eat it. He'd probably think she had poisoned it.

She was glad that anger helped numb the pain. She didn't want him to know what it cost her to come see him; she wouldn't give him the pleasure of feeling sorry for her. She wanted to be able to hate him with a clear conscience.

I don't know why I bothered to come," Fern said. "You are incapable of understanding human kindness."

"I don't think I'm incapable," Madison said, appearing to give the idea serious thought, "but after being met at the train with verbal pitchforks, it's a little difficult to believe you've developed a kindly interest in my welfare."

"You haven't changed a bit," Fern replied.

"Of course I haven't. I'm the same person who left Boston to defend his brother, who took you to Rose when you refused to see a doctor, and who tried to keep himself from being murdered by your henchmen. It's your perception of me that keeps changing."

"That was my mistake," Fern declared, throwing the food down on a table outside his cell. "You're everything I thought from the very beginning." She spun on her heel and headed toward the door.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Madison called after her. "I hate to disappoint people."

The slamming door shook the frame building.

"If that's a sample of how you behave in Boston, I bet you have all the dowagers clamoring to invite you to tea," Hen said sarcastically.

"Actually they do. As strange as it may seem, I'm thought to be a very charming fellowfriendly, cheerful, amusing, always to be depended upon to do the right thing. Something must have happened when I crossed the Mississippi."

He had scored a clear victory, he had foiled Fern's every attempt to feel sorry for him, but it was a sour triumph. He had no trouble controlling his temper in Boston. Why couldn't he do it here? He had a reputation for being able to talk anybody into anything, but here he couldn't open his mouth without making everybody furious with him.

The basket of food leveled its silent condemnation.

Last night he had been hoping Fern would come to see him. Today she'd come, and he had done everything in his power to drive her away. What was it about Fern, this town, his family that caused him to act completely unlike himself? His teachers had always told him he could solve any problem with his mind. Well, it wasn't working.

"n.o.body told me the fight was over Fern Sproull," Hen said. "I hope you get me out of jail soon. This is one courtship I don't want to miss."

"Go to h.e.l.l!" Madison growled.

"You had no business out of bed," Rose scolded as she settled the nightgown over Fern's head and tucked her in. "I wouldn't be surprised if you have to stay in an extra day."

"I hate him," Fern fumed. "He's the most stub-born, hateful, sarcastic, narrow-minded man I've ever met. He has no concept of human kindness, not in himself or in anyone else."

"He has no proper manners, either," Mrs. Abbott put in, unwilling to forget Madison's strong-arming his way past her.

"I don't see how he can be your husband's brother," Fern said to Rose. "George never says a cross word to me, even though he knows I think Hen killed Troy. But Madison . . ."

Words failed her, but they didn't fail Mrs. Abbott.

"Mr. Randolph is a true gentleman," she said. "And he's ever so kind to my Ed, the poor fatherless boy."

"Madison has been under considerable strain since he got here," Rose said. "Perhaps this is not his typical behavior."

"I should think not," Mrs. Abbott stated. "It would give me a very strange notion of Boston society."

"I don't know how he usually behaves, and I don't want to know," Fern fumed, ignoring Mrs. Abbott's pretensions. "I just want him to go back to Boston as soon as they let him out of jail. He despises everything here, and I'm sure we don't think any more of him."

"I don't," Mrs. Abbott said, casting her lot firmly against Madison. "You should exercise great care to keep him away from your little boy," she said to Rose. "It would be a terrible shame if he was to corrupt that darling, precious child."

"If William Henry can survive the influence of his other uncles, not to mention about a dozen very rough cowhands, he'll have nothing to fear from Madison," Rose answered rather sharply. "Now Miss Sproull could use some more breakfast. She didn't eat anything earlier. She'll never get well that way."

"I should say not," Mrs. Abbott echoed. "I'll be right in with it." "Take your time," Rose said. I want her to be more calm before she puts anything in her stomach."

"Very wise," Mrs. Abbott agreed. "You can never be too careful of a delicate stomach."

I don't have a delicate stomach," Fern stated the moment the door closed behind Mrs. Abbott. "In fact, my father says I have no delicacy at all."

I thought you needed to be free of Mrs. Abbott for a while. I know I do."

Fern smiled. "She is a bit overpowering."

"She's convinced that everyone she likes is kind and generous. If she doesn't like you . . . well, you know what she said about Madison."

"In his case it's deserved."

Rose sat down on the end of the bed. She spent so long studying her, Fern started to feel uncomfortable.

"Do you really want to understand Madison?" Rose asked. Her gaze was particularly penetrating. "Answer me truthfully. Not for my sake, but for his. And possibly yours."

"I g-guess so," Fern admitted reluctantly, unsure of what Rose was getting at. "I had started to think he might be different from the other men I've known. But after this morning," she said, her anger flowering again as she remembered his words, "I'm sure I was wrong."

"I've seen less of Madison than you have," Rose began, "but I know a little of his history. However, it's quite painful. I would hate to think you might use it against him."

"I'd never do that," Fern said, unable to understand why Rose seemed to have the same reservations about her as Madison did. "Contrary to his beliefs, not everyone in Kansas is insensitive."

"Madison had a very difficult time growing up," Rose began, apparently deciding to ignore Fern's last charge. "None of the boys learned how to love or trust anyone."

"Why?"

"As best as I can determine, they had a brutal, abusive drunk for a father and an ineffectual, weak-willed mother. During the war, Madison disappeared, leaving the twins to run the ranch by themselves. His brothers never forgave him."

"But he came back to help Hen. Doesn't that make a difference?"

"Apparently not. Even George, and he's as fair a man as I know, can't quite forget."

"Didn't he tell them why he left?"

"He told them last night when George went to the jail."

"What did he say?"

"You'll have to ask him."

"I can't ask him a question like that."

"Maybe h.e.l.l tell you. He seems to like you."

"You wouldn't think that if you'd heard him a few minutes ago."

"For G.o.d's sake, Fern, you drove the man out of here last night in a temper after he'd ridden miles holding you in the saddle. Then he goes to a saloon and your hired hands pick a fight and try to kill him. When he tries to defend himself, and your reputation I might add, they throw him in jail. What do you expect of him? He's not a saint, but he'd need the faith of one to believe you weren't behind it."

"But I wouldn't do anything like that."

"How's he to know that? By your own admission, you met him at the train with threats to run him out of town. I can't speak for Madison, but it would look to me like those men were trying to help you keep your promise." Fern was horrified. She hadn't meant for Madison to take her anger personally. She was fighting to see justice done. It had nothing to do with Madison himself. She would have been furious at any lawyer the Randolphs hired.

But hadn't she taken his words as a personal attack on her? Maybe those words had no more to do with her than hers had to do with him. Maybe he was just reacting as he would to anyone who treated him as she had.

"Not that his brothers have been much better," Rose added. "I had a good deal to say to Hen and George last night. I hope it has some effect, but I don't know. Some of this family's wounds go so deep, nothing can heal them."

"Do you really think he believes I hate him?" Fern asked.