With this segment of Chapter Three of Repairing the Legacy, we continue the serialization of Repairing the Legacy. This is a rough draft work in progress and may not reflect the final form. Time period: set after the ending of The Martiniere Legacy main trilogy, before the Epilogue (for this chapter). I’m breaking longer chapters into sections for readability. This is the first part of Chapter Three.

DANCING INTO CHANGE

Repairing the Legacy, Chapter Three, Part One

December, 2059

RUBY

Amongst the other social events of Ruby’s first Family Christmas was a dance. A renewal of a tradition that Gabe’s parents—God, it’s confusing between Saul and Philip; which man do I call Gabe’s father? —supported, but Philip let lapse. Gabe brought up the notion at Christmas breakfast, to an enthusiastic reception.

The first obstacle was that most of the Family members on site already had commitments for New Year’s Eve. But—something on the 30th—

“The old dances were quite the galas,” Gabe said, half-smiling, as a handful of Family members reviewed both electronic and hard copy files in Gerard’s office on the afternoon of Christmas Day, to prepare for the party. “Can’t do the big gala thing on such short notice this year, but do you suppose we could pull it off on New Year’s Eve proper next year, Gerard?”

“We might need to keep it on the 30th,” Gerard said. “Scheduling. But if you’d like to revive the tradition for next year—”

“I think it would be an excellent idea,” Gabe said. He eyed Brandon. “As long as you’re willing to keep it up after me.”

“A big party? Of course, Dad!” Brandon smirked at Gabe.

Ruby rolled her eyes at them—father and son hadn’t met a party that they didn’t enjoy—and went back to studying old pictures of past galas.

Once upon a time, the Martiniere New Year’s Gala had been quite the affair. Donna-gran on the arm of her husband Louis Martiniere, the then-Martiniere. Saul and Angelica, during Saul’s tenure as the Martiniere. Charles Martiniere’s wife Eloise, then the Matriarch, even managed to hold a scaled-down Gala in exile during World War II, while Charles was at war.

“Why did Philip cancel it?” she asked. “After all, it kept going during the World Wars.”

Donna-gran sniffed from her corner, where she was reviewing past records. “Because my poor damned megalomaniac fool of a son couldn’t compete with his older brother and didn’t like the fancy affairs. He condemned anything big and splashy that was fun.” She sighed. “And dancing probably reminded Philip of Angelica. I don’t think he ever got over Angelica choosing Saul over him.”

Awkward silence filled Gerard’s office.

Then Gabe coughed. “I think this year has to be just Family,” he said. “But next year—yes. If we have enough time to pull it off—I don’t care if it’s the 30th or the 31st, let’s relaunch the Martiniere Gala. For this year, though—let’s have some fun. It has been one hell of a year. Costume, formal dress, casual dress—doesn’t matter. All ages.”

“We won’t be able to provide live music this year with this short a lead time,” Justine said thoughtfully.

“We didn’t have live music when Ruby and I remarried,” Gabe said. “I’m all right with that. And since this is Ruby and my delayed honeymoon, I want some input into the music.”

Justine rolled her eyes. “More Willie Nelson, Gabie?”

“At least some,” Gabe insisted. “Strauss waltzes, yes. A mix of more recent music, yes. But we’re gonna have some Willie, at least early on before us old folks get tired and sneak off to bed.”

And with that, the party planning gained momentum.

#

“Can I go to the party?” Mikey asked as Ruby and Gabe tucked him into bed.

Ruby arched a brow at Gabe. It had only been two hours since they’d finished that meeting. Word must have been flying around the house. It surprised her how quickly information spread within the vastness of the Hôtel Martiniere.

And we don’t even have the household of earlier eras, she thought. She could just imagine what it must have been like pre-Revolution, when the house was full of assorted family members and their servants. Or during the Napoleonic Era.

Gabe laughed. “Of course, Mikey! Especially this year. Next year will be more formal, but this year is just for fun. Wear something you want to play in.”

“Jeans and one of my nice ranch shirts?” Mikey’s voice quavered a little. He was good about dressing up for various occasions, but Ruby got the impression that he was ready to go back home, to the quiet of the Double R.

“And your boots as well, if that’s what you want to wear,” Gabe said, his voice softening. “Missing the ranch?”

Mikey nodded. “And riding horses. And Charlie’s dogs. Hey, can I have a puppy?”

Ruby winced, remembering how Gabe had insisted that infant Brandon have a puppy during the early days of their first marriage. Three dogs later…once Gabe started acquiring dogs, puppies tended to follow him home. She suspected that it wouldn’t be different now. It was surprising that puppies hadn’t made an appearance yet.

Gabe smirked. “Soon, Mikey, soon. For both the puppies and going home.”

“Puppies?” Ruby raised her brows at Gabe. “Plural?”

“We’ll get to that eventually,” Gabe said, evading her glare. “But yes, Mikey. Whatever you’re comfortable wearing for the party, as long as it’s not your pajamas, all right?”

“No way!” Mikey snorted.

Gabe laughed. “Some people like wearing pajamas to events.”

Mikey made a face and turned onto his side, pulling his stuffies tight to him. Gabe stroked Mikey’s forehead.

Gabe stood up and Ruby ducked in to kiss Mikey’s forehead. Then they left.

“So Mikey’s going western. What are you wearing?” she asked Gabe.

He smirked at her. “I think it’s time the Family started adjusting to the notion that the Martiniere and the Matriarch are ranchers in the US West.”

“But we didn’t bring—”

“Oh yes we did,” Gabe said. “Your good Lucchese boots. My Noconas. Those matching 1950s-era replica Scully shirts you got us—the black with red rose embroidery. Nice dress jeans. My Sweets Rodeo Saddle Bronc Champion belt buckle and your Miss Rodeo Oregon belt buckle.”

“You planned this,” she accused.

He shrugged. “I hoped for a possibility.” As they went into their private suite, he pulled her close for a kiss. “And even though I’m now the Martiniere, I’m still a rebel at heart.”

Ruby laughed and buried her head in Gabe’s chest.

She had to admit that the idea sounded good. Like Mikey, she was tiring of the high society life. Dressing up in clothing she was familiar with for one big Family event was a relief.

#

“Ready?” Gabe asked after they dressed for the party.

Ruby checked the fit of her tiara. She wore the silver earrings that went with the lucky locket tucked under her shirt. All she really needed now was a hat—but Gabe hadn’t brought those.

Hat carriers would have given it away.

It was clear he meant this to be a surprise for her as well as the Family.

“I’m ready to show the Family how shitkickers party,” she said. A slow sly grin twitched her lips as she studied her husband. All he needed was a hat to finish off his ensemble—he wore a maroon glad rag tucked around his neck that matched the embroidered roses on his black snap-button shirt. While Gabe always looked good in his bespoke suits (oh God, especially that one black morning suit), the old-style Western shirt better accented his once-more-lean, lithe figure, in her opinion. Couple that with well-fitted jeans, the silver belt buckle, the square-toed Nocona boots; subtract the lines in his face, and even at fifty-seven he still looked like the wandering saddle bronc rider who had caught her interest all those years ago.

Just a more affluent version.

Gabe threw his head back in a full laugh that made her grin even bigger. Then he kissed her.

“Aw, Rubes. The woman of my heart.” He slid his arm around her waist. “Let’s collect the others.”

Brandon and Kris, Justine and Donald, Donna-gran, and Mikey along with the cyborg brothers Carl and Frederick waited for them in the main living area. Ruby raised her brows as she saw they all wore jeans and snap-button shirts.

“You scripted this,” she accused Gabe.

“Actually, I did,” Brandon said.

Ruby shook her head. “You Martiniere men. All right. Let’s party.”

They processed down the stairs. The sliding doors onto the foyer which separated the dining room from the grand parlor were both open, turning the space into a ballroom. Family members milled about, even though the music hadn’t started yet. Mikey ran to join a group of younger cousins playing in one corner.

“The Martiniere is here—let the music begin!” Gerard announced.

A Strauss waltz—the Blue Danube, she thought, but wasn’t certain—played. Gabe swept her into his arms and they waltzed. Other Family members joined them but she was focused on Gabe even as she exchanged pleasantries with the other Family members between dances. Those smoldering dark eyes, that grin that made her heart leap—no, that hadn’t changed. Even after heartbreak and divorce, he still was the man who won her so many years ago as Gabe Ramirez, a broke ranch hand and saddle bronc rider. Not Gabriel Martiniere, the heir to a fortune and power beyond her wildest dreams.

Willie Nelson followed Strauss and Gabe smirked. They shifted from straight waltz to Western Swing. Then it was back to a traditional waltz.

She lost track of time between dances, stopping to eat and drink, and checking on Mikey. Almost like the Grange dances back home, except…in Paris. At one point Kris took Mikey upstairs. Brandon danced with Ruby before joining Kris. Gabe and Justine danced, while Ruby sat with Donald. She noticed he was pale with a faint sweaty sheen and wondered if he was all right. Justine had mentioned that Donald had a chronic health condition, but never went into detail about it.

“Whew.” Gabe dropped into the open seat by Ruby, throwing his arm around her shoulders while Justine sat next to Donald. “Old man’s getting tired but I do want a couple more rounds with my darling. Just have to wait for the right set of songs.” He smirked at her. “It’s a bit tamer than what we used to do, for certain. Getting old.”

Ruby laughed softly and snuggled into him as they watched the dancers.

“This was a good idea, Gabe,” Donald said. “Everything I’ve heard and seen about what you’ve done this Christmas. Many small things that have made a big difference.”

“I wanted to make this a happy time,” Gabe said. “The Family needs it. Especially with what lies ahead of us.” He paused, as if to say more, but then grinned as the opening notes of “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” played. “And here’s our set, Rubes. Let’s give ‘em a real taste of good dancing.”

Ruby grinned as well. Her husband had always been a good dancer—and now she knew it came in part from having a ballerina for a mother. Someday she hoped to see clips of Angelica dancing. She had found reviews but so far, no actual footage.

“Blue Eyes” segued into “Whiskey River,” “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” and then, finally, the haunting strains of “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.” The look in Gabe’s eyes warned her that he wanted to make this one big, even before he extended his arm to swing her.

“Let’s leave ‘em with a real show,” he murmured. This had been one of their signature songs at the rodeo and Grange dances.

Ruby followed Gabe’s lead through slow, delicate spins, swings, and twirls separated by close embraces. They flowed together, like they had all those years ago when they were young and wild on the local rodeo circuit, rodeoing their break from hard work on the Double R.

A second chance. We got a second chance, kept echoing through her thoughts.

A year ago, if anyone had told Ruby that she would be dancing with Gabe, once again his wife and now a member of one of the most powerful families in the world, she wouldn’t have believed it.

A fairytale come true; one she hadn’t even known was even a possibility for rancher Ruby Barkley. Dancing with Gabe here, at the Hôtel Martiniere in Paris, just like they were at a rodeo dance, suddenly slammed the reality home.

Ruby was damned sure going to make the most of it.

Their eyes didn’t leave each other as they danced their love. Gabe dipped her for the final notes, then kissed Ruby hard.

Applause startled Ruby out of the semi-trance the dance had evoked in her, and she realized they had been dancing alone, the rest of the Family watching them.

Gabe threw a two-finger salute. “And that’s a good night for us,” he intoned. “Have fun and stay safe, folks. See you all tomorrow.”

Ruby held back her giggles until they were safely a couple of flights up the stairs, because Gabe’s vocal tones sounded so much like a rodeo announcer with that good night. Gabe snickered along with her. They stopped at the next landing and he kissed her again, soft at first, then more insistent.

“You are going to scandalize the Family,” she whispered against his lips.

“I don’t care,” he murmured back. “I’m no fucking prig like Philip. Saul deeply loved my mother—and showed it. Daily. Here and at home. It’s time the Family was reminded of what a Martiniere capable of loving his wife and family looks like.” He kissed her some more. “I am proud of my redheaded rodeo queen. My Matriarch. My greatest love.”

Like what you’ve read so far? Check out the other stories in The Martiniere Legacy—all links here, both Amazon and other sources.

Preorders for Justine Fixes Everything: Reflections on Mortality are now available at Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo! Fully available on October 15th, 2021

What’s it about?

EVEN THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE HAVE TO START SOMEWHERE....

Over the years, Justine Martiniere has become the fixer for the Martinieres. Have a problem? Go to Justine to get it remedied.

But it wasn't always that way.

First, Justine needed to escape the abuses of her father, Philip. She didn't expect to fall in love with the man she married, Donald Atwood. But she did–and then she faced the choice between remaining married to Donald, or stopping her sociopathic, megalomaniac father.

Justine Fixes Everything is in part the unusual love story of Justine and Donald–and in part the saga of her rise to power, viewed in retrospect as she tells the history to Philip's clone Mike, as he recovers from surgery. It's about what she sacrificed to become powerful—and, at the same time, how that past comes to haunt the challenges she faces toward the end of her life.