Leila Meacham - Roses

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 2010 by Leila Meacham

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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First eBook Edition: January 2010

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ISBN: 978-0-446-55810-5

For Janice Jenning Thomson a friend for all seasons

And here I prophesy: this brawl today,

Grown to this faction in the Temple garden,

Shall send, between the red rose and the white,

A thousand souls to death and deadly night.

Earl of Warwick in

William Shakespeares Henry VI,

part 1, Act II, scene iv

M y thanks, first, to Louise Scherr for bringing the novel to the attention of David McCormick, superb literary agent, who, with his fine staff, made wonderful things happen for me. Among them was placing the book in the hands of Deb Futter, editor in chief of Grand Central Publishing, and her assistant, Dianne Choie. Deb led me through the revisions and Dianne the maze of publishing wickets with such humor and courtesy and understanding that those usually dreaded tasks turned into a happy experience for me.

Thanks, too, to Nancy Johanson, freelance copy editor extraordinaire, whose keen editorial eye and generous assistance were invaluable to me early on, and to Clint Rodgers, computer whiz, who answered my every (and frequent) SOS cheerfully.

And, as always, thanks to my loving husband for the many years of being there for me.

Finallyfrom the place where my everlasting awe residesI give thanks for and to the friends who lined the road and cheered me on. Because of you, I reached the finish line. You know who you are.

HOWBUTKER, TEXAS, AUGUST 1985

A t his desk, Amos Hines turned over the last sheet of the two-page legal document hed been instructed to read. His mouth had gone dry as wheat chaff, and for a moment he could only blink in dazed disbelief at his client and longtime friend seated before his desk, a woman he had admiredreveredfor forty years and had thought he knew. He searched her expression for indications that age had finally affected her faculties, but she stared back with all the clear-eyed acuity for which she was renowned. Working saliva into his mouth, he asked, Is this codicil for real, Mary? Youve sold the farms and changed your will?

Mary Toliver DuMont nodded, the waves of her coiffed white head catching the light from the French windows. Yes to both, Amos. I know youre shocked, and this isnt a nice way to repay all your years of service and devotion, but youd have been deeply hurt if Id put this business in the hands of another attorney.

Indeed I would have, he said. Another attorney would not have tried to talk you into rethinking this codicilat least the part that can be revised. There was no rescuing Toliver Farms, Marys enormous cotton holdings that shed sold in secret negotiations the past month, a fact concealed from her great-niece sitting in ignorance out in Lubbock, Texas, as manager of Toliver Farms West.

Theres nothing to revise, Amos, Mary said with a trace of asperity. Whats done is done, and theres no changing my mind. Youd waste your time and mine by trying.

Has Rachel done something to offend you? he asked evenly, swiveling his chair around to a credenza. He reached for a carafe and noticed his hand shook as he poured two glasses of water. He would have preferred something stronger, but Mary never touched alcohol. Is that why you sold the farms and amended your will?

Oh, good Lord, no, Mary said, sounding horrified. You must never believe that. My great-niece has done nothing but be who she isa Toliver through and through.

He found beverage napkins and rotated to hand Mary her glass. Shed lost weight, he decided. Her couture suit hung on her somewhat, and her coddled facestill striking at eighty-fivelooked thinner. This business had taken a toll on her, as it damn well should, he thought, a shaft of anger shooting through him. How could she do this to her great-niecedispossess her of everything shed expected to inheritthe land and house of her forebears, her right to live in the town theyd helped to found? He took a long swallow of the water and tried to keep the outrage from his voice when he observed, You make that sound like a flaw.

It is, and Im correcting it. She turned up her glass and drank thirstily, patting the napkin to her lips afterward. Thats the purpose of the codicil. I dont expect you to have a clue as to what that purpose is, Amos, but Percy will when the time comes. So will Rachel once Ive explained it.

And when do you plan to do that?

Im flying to Lubbock tomorrow in the company plane to meet with her. She doesnt know Im coming. Ill tell her about the sale and the codicil then and hope that my arguments convince her Ive done whats best for her.

Best for her? Amos peered over his glasses at her in incredulous wonder. Mary would have better luck selling celibacy to a sailor. Rachel would never forgive her for what shed done, of that he was certain. He leaned forward and held her with a determined eye. How about trying your arguments on me first, Mary? Why would you sell Toliver Farms, which youve worked most of your life to build? Why leave Somerset to Percy Warwick, of all people? What use is a cotton plantation to him? Percy is a lumberman, for Gods sake. Hes ninety years old! And bequeathing the Toliver mansion to the Conservation Society is well, its the final slap. You know that Rachel has always regarded that house as her home. Shes planning on spending the rest of her life in it.

I know. Thats why Ive deprived her of it. She appeared unmoved, sitting ramrod straight with her hand curved over the crook of her anchored cane, looking for all the world like a queen on her throne and the cane her scepter. I want her to make her own home somewhere else, start over on new ground, she said. I dont want her staying here and living out her life according to the gospel of the Tolivers.

But but I dont understand. Amos spread his hands in frustration. I thought thats what youd prepared her for all these years.

It was a mistakea very selfish mistake. Thank God I realized the tragedy of my error before it was too late and had the gumption and wisdom to correct it. She waved a dismissive hand. Save your energy and mine in trying to convince me to explain, Amos. Its a puzzle, I know, but keep your faith in me. My motives could not be purer.

Bewildered, he tried another tack. You havent done this out of some misguided notion of what you feel you owe her father, William, have you?

Absolutely not! A spark of temper flashed in her eyes. They were known as the Toliver eyesgreen as rare emeralds, a feature inherited from her fathers side of the family along with her once black hair and the dimple in the center of her chin. Im sure my nephew might see it that wayor rather, that wife of his will, she said. To her mind, Ive done whats right and proper by giving William what has justly been his all along. She gave a little snort. Let Alice Toliver have her illusion that I sold the farms out of guilt over what I owe her husband. I didnt do any of this for him, but for his daughter. I believe hell realize that. She paused, her finely lined face pensive, doubtful, and added in a less confident tone, I wish I could be as sure of Rachel.