Give Me Tonight(28)

"She's always had plans for you, Adeline. Plans about making you into somethin' you aren't meant to be. Sending you to that school in Virginia to learn about fancy manners and poetry books, hoping you'd' find some eastern lawyer or businessman to hitch up with—well, I knew it wouldn't work. I knew you'd want to come back where you belong. Cade and Car­oline favor your mama. She wasn't born to ranching. She's settled into this life pretty well, but in her heart she'll never stop hankerin' for her people in the East. But I think you favor me, Adeline. And you and I were born to this." He waved his hand at the land in front of them. "Look around you. Would you trade all this to live in a hotel or a town house with the kind of goody-goody May wants for you? You don't want a man decked out in city clothes, someone with soft hands and white skin, afraid of dirt and animals, and everything that's nat'ral. They city whips the manli­ness out of 'em. Our boys out here are rough—cut, Ade­line, but they're men, and they got respect for a woman. Too much respect to let 'er wear the pants in the family and do their work. A man out here knows how to take care of a woman."

Addie listened to him with growing alarm. She didn't want to wear the pants in the family or to bully any man. If or when her thoughts ever turned to marriage, she would need the kind of husband who would let her be his partner, his lover and friend. Was it useless to hope that someday she would find someone who would let her be his equal?

"Let's talk about something else," she said, her forehead creasing, and obligingly Russ started lectur­ing heron the running of the ranch. The horses' hooves splashed through a shallow stream, then thudded along the edge of an alfalfa field. A line of trees bordered the other side, having been planted there to act as a windbreak. On the other side of the field, the lush green of the land turned to the dry brown-green of true rangeland. Addie noticed that all the trees they passed by had clipped edge on the bottoms, like skirts that had been hemmed too short.

"Why have the lowest leaves of all the trees been clipped like that?"

Russell seemed pleased by her interest. "That's the browse line, honey. That's about as high as the live­stock can reach when they browse over the land and chomp on the trees. When you see that, you know the land is being overgrazed. That's why Ben moved the herd further out to richer land. If he didn't, the grass would be so thin the cows'd have to eat on a dead run to get enough. "

"But how long can you keep moving the herd around before you run out of good land?"

"Run outta land?" Russell laughed uproariously.

"We got half a million acres. We're not gonna run out anytime soon. And if we did, there'll always be more land in Texas."

"I don't know if Texas is as big as you think. Sooner or later the land—"

"Texas not big? It covers practically the whole country, 'cept for the little bit we let the other states divide amongst themselves. "

They rode over miles of arid rangeland, past herds of longhorns whose heads were dipped low as they grazed lethargically. Russell's face was alight with an emotion beyond pride as he regarded the animals with their swishing tails and lethal horns. "Beautiful, ain't they?"

"There certainly are a lot of them."

"Not bad for a man who started out with nothin' but two dollars in cash and an empty belly. Feels good to a man, Adeline, to look over what he owns and know he's built somethin' that'll last forever. To know he'll go on forever. This'll never be anything but Warner land, and I was the one who took it for his own."

Addie stared at him and felt a rush of pity. But when you were killed it all fell to pieces. There was no one to take over, no one to hold it together. The herds were rustled or sold off, the ranch was ruined. Cade was too young to take over. And I guess Caroline's hus­band was too weak, not the kind of man that others would follow. It didn't last forever.

"This is all mine," Russell said, relishing the thought. His voice lowered a few notches. "And someday it'll be yours."

"Mine?" she repeated, startled.

"Now, honey, don't tell me you weren't listen in ' when I explained it to you the other day. "

Addie had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe he'd explained something to Adeline Warner. But not to Addie Peck.

"I didn't really understand," she said carefully. Russell sighed. "Aw, doesn't really matter. Wills are men's business anyway. You don't have to under­stand anything, honey. Just—"

"Explain it again," Addie interrupted gently, watching him like a hawk. "Please. I'll try very hard this time. What is this about a will?"

Russell seemed to puff up with self-importance.

"No one around here has the kind of fancy will I'm gettin' drawed up. I had to send for a Philadelphia lawyer to come here and do it right. He'll get here in about a month."

"There aren't lawyers here who could draw up a good will for you?"

"Not like the young hustlers back east. When it comes to the law, they know every trick there is. And I don't want any chance of a mistake bein' made with this will."

"What's so special about it?"

"Well, I've been thinkin' a lot about what'Il happen when I pass on. I don't aim to for a while, mind you. But I got to thinkin'—who's gonna carry on after me? Who's gonna look after Sunrise? Caro and Pete don't care nothin' about ranching. They're talking about movin' east after the baby's born."