Deception

by Grace Brannigan

  Trey heard the phone ringing and walked back into the office, reaching for the phone. "Rambler Farms."

  "Trey -- it's Brian."

  Trey gripped the phone handset. "Brian -- are you calling from the penitentiary? What the hell do you want?" He moved over to the door and pushed it closed with the toe of his boot. "Why are you calling here? You've got no business --"

  "Calm down, calm down. I'm out, I got released last week. I heard Katharine is back."

  "What goes on here is none of your concern. Don't even think about showing up. Katharine has no use for you."

  "What would you even know about it? We've got unfinished business, Katharine and I."

  "I own the Rambler, so it is my concern. You've created enough trouble."

  "That's slick," Brian said, a touch of admiration in his voice. "How did you manage to get the farm from the old man? He always held onto that like --"

  "I didn't get anything from anybody and besides, it's none of your --"

  "Yeah, I know, none of my business. You've certainly come a long way from the Bartlett." Trey stiffened at the reference to the Bartlett Orphanage for Young Boys. "Funny thing that, growing up in an orphanage, talking about having our own place some day, and you've done it. Only question is, how was it done?"

  "Don't call here again."

  "Trey --"

  Trey placed the phone back on its rest. He clenched his fist against his thigh, angry that Brian thought he could just come to the farm now that he'd somehow heard Katharine was back. The man was a menace, a liar and a cheat, reason enough not to let him within one hundred miles of the farm. Trey felt some of his past coming back to haunt him. It was a long time ago that he and Brian used to be pals.

  The phone rang again. Tensed, Trey grabbed the phone, "Rambler Farms."

  "My, you sound like something's really pissed you off," said Paula.

  Trey relaxed. "Sorry -- what can I do for you, Paula?"

  "Hmm, there's a loaded question. I want to take you up on that rain check for our ride. Do you have time today?"

  Trey looked at his watch. "Yeah, how about two hours from now? I have to check the fence on the southern end. Would that work?"

  "I guess I have to be grateful you're fitting me into your work schedule."

  "Paula --"

  "Oh, just kidding," she said quickly. "We're moving the horses next week, just in case you need a reminder. Dad's keen on taking them down to warmer weather early this year."

  "Yeah, I talked to him. We're all set to go."

  "I hope this means I can still come and ride with you, Trey."

  "Paula, of course you can, as long as my work schedule permits."

  "Have you gone riding with Katharine yet?" Paula asked curiously.

  "As she mentioned to you, she doesn't ride anymore," he said.

  "Well, I just find that hard to believe. Don't you wonder where she's been all these years?"

  "Paula, Katharine is an adult." He sighed. "I have to go. Anything else you need?"

  "No, I'll see you then."

  "Right. Good bye."

  Trey hung up, impatient with Paula's input, though he admitted she'd expressed some of the same doubts he had.

  #

  "I bet you went down to see the horses," was the first thing Samuel said to Sacha as she entered his suite of rooms. She pushed a small kitchen cart with tea and cookies for two.

  She smiled at him. "Of course."

  They sat at a small table in front of a large plate glass window overlooking the back fields. Sacha had prepared two mugs of tea and now placed a plate of home-made peanut butter cookies on the glass table top between them.

  Samuel made a play of sniffing the air appreciatively. "Is that peanut butter drifting this way?" he asked, rubbing his hands together. "You remembered."

  "Helen made them and swore they were your favorite."

  Samuel gave a snort. "You hate admitting you might remember anything about living here, don't you Kate?" He heaved a sigh. "Talk to me, Kate."

  Sacha stared at him, and finally she said softly, "Sometimes memories are so deeply buried in pain, they create their own burn." She looked outside the open window, enjoying the bright sun, the sweet scent of cut grass, a gentle breeze playing through the leaves on the maple tree outside the window. "It's a beautiful day. I went for a jog and I stopped on the way back to see the horses out in the field."

  "I'm sure your palomino was glad to see you."

  She nodded. "She's a beauty," she acknowledged.

  Samuel smiled reminiscently, looking back in time. "Rosie was always your favorite. Trey rides her, you know, keeps her in fine shape. I told him she was special to you. She's going on fifteen years old now." Samuel stared at her, his eyes clouded more than she recalled from the day before. "Have you ridden her yet?"

  She gently pushed his mug of tea toward him. "No."

  "I know you must be itching to get on her back. I remember you being such a wild kid -- racing across the hills, into the woods. I was always afraid you'd fall and break your neck."

  "And yet here I am," she said, avoiding the issue of riding.

  Samuel stared at her. "Yes, you are here, against all odds, it seems."

  She tensed. "What do you mean?"

  "I'd given up all hope of seeing you again, you know. I had someone looking for you for years, but nothing turned up. It's like you vanished." He gripped the arms of the chair. "And then Trey finds you out of the blue. What happened to you? I need to know where you've been."

  Sacha stared at the old man, feeling the creep of pity for his obvious distress. What should she tell him? Did she tell him the years in between were something his grand-daughter had needed?

  Slowly she said, "The years away helped me find out who I really was. I had to make it on my own, without your money or influence -- without anyone else. Just me."

  "But why just take off like that?"

  "Some things I just don't want to talk about," she said, avoiding his glance. "You have to let it go."

  He sighed. "It's hard to believe at times you're the same girl I knew. No longer a girl, but now a young woman. Even your smile is different, and you dyed your hair. Are those colored contacts? Why would you hide your green eyes? You look good, Kate, makeup and all, but I'm trying to get used to the change."

  She shrugged. "Obviously, I like it. People take brunettes more seriously than blondes. Eight years is a long time; things don't remain the same."

  "I know, look at me," he said, slapping his palms on the chair arms. "Some days I feel as if I've teetered on the edge of death too many times." He sat back in the chair, turning his head to look at her. "But I've had a full life. I regret the arguments we had. I wish --" he hesitated.

  "What do you wish?" Sacha asked, affected by his obvious emotion.

  "I wish you had come to me when the trouble began."

  "What trouble?" Her breath felt tightly restricted in her chest.

  "Brian. I know you tried to make it work, but we all know Brian was a poor excuse for anything."

  She put up a hand. "Let's change the subject, please."

  "I know, not a pleasant one."

  Sacha put two cookies on a napkin and placed it in front of him.

  "Thinking to distract me with cookies?" he asked, but he lifted one and took a bite, then another bite.

  "I'm curious how Trey comes into all this?" she said. "He's running everything here."

  Samuel chewed the cookie and smiled. "These are good. Trey is running the place. He's a good man."

  She looked out the window. "Paula said he was a drifter."

  "Hmm, that young woman is trouble on two legs, and I don't care how much money her father has."

  "How do you know he'll stick around when things get tough?"

  Her grandfather laughed. "Trey? When it comes to something they want, men like Trey have tunnel vision. No man, woman, or natural disaster is going to get in his way. He'll go over and around any obstacle, and he'll su
cceed. He doesn't know how to give up. If the Rambler is what he really wants, he'll stick it out. He's sunk enough money into it, God knows, he probably can't walk away."

  Instead of reassuring her, Samuel's words caused her even more worry. Would Trey try to steamroll over her if she got in his way?

  "Trey's followed the rodeo since he was fifteen. He might have had his own share of trouble in the past, but I'd stake my life on his integrity." His glance almost seemed to have sharpened. "I ran into some financial trouble several years ago, and Trey took his earnings from his rodeo days and got me out of that debt. In return, he got half of the Rambler." He fell silent a moment. "I considered selling him the entire ranch. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

  Sacha could form no reply.

  "So I had Horace draw up the papers. He paid fairly for his half, Kate, don't think he cheated me. And he works hard on this ranch, and the main emphasis these days is on the cattle breeding. He's on his way to making this operation a top notch farm."

  Could she have been wrong to suspect Trey's motives? Despite his illness, Sacha didn't think Samuel would be easily won over unless Trey was what he said. Samuel closed his eyes.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  "Yes. You know, Trey had told me about your painting, but you've said next to nothing. I'd like to see your work."

  "Right now I'm working on something new, maybe it will be done in time for you to see it."

  "What do you mean -- in time for what?"

  "Before I go back."

  "Dammit, you just got here."

  "My life is in New York," she said firmly.

  He seemed to slump a little in his chair, his fingers gripping the chair sides. "A life far away from here." he sighed. "Was it so terrible, this life here?"

  Sacha looked out onto the lawns. "It looks beautiful now," she said softly.

  "Kate, have you thought about staying here, I mean, making this your home base? You can paint from anywhere."

  Tension radiated in her chest out to her neck and back. "I didn't think of it, no."

  "So this is just a short stay and then you're leaving again." If he'd angrily demanded she stay, it would have been easier to refuse, but right now his voice sounded vulnerable. "There are the terms of the agreement."

  "Horace told me." She cleared her throat. "Trey came to the gallery and asked me to come back. He said you weren't well."

  "He used that old chestnut, eh? See the old man before he dies?" He began to laugh, and ended up coughing.

  When the coughing subsided, she handed him his cup of tea. "Why don't you take a drink, it might help."

  He nodded. "It's that damnable oxygen, it dries my throat."

  "Trey's very concerned for you."

  "Yes, I know. He's been good to me Kate, really good. He didn't need to let me stay here, he could have worked something else out, but he did. It's got to be a pain in the ass having me here." He gave a short laugh. "I don't know where else I'd go, but right now I imagine I'll die here." He shrugged. "I remember, you know, when I used to run roughshod over you, thinking I knew best. Such a delicate, pretty little thing, your hair in those blonde pony tails, drawing with chalk on the sidewalk, putting daisies all around the house." He seemed lost in those remembrances, his eyes half closed. "When you were little there were no arguments. It all started with him -- with Brian." He looked sad. "I wish it had been different. I've lost these eight years." He looked into her eyes, his blue eyes filming with moisture. "I'm sorry for my lack of sympathy and understanding. I ran you off without even knowing it, demanding you do everything my way."

  Sacha cleared her throat, shrugged. "Young girls get mixed up -- we all make mistakes, you know."

  "But I should have been there for you."

  She gripped his hand as it lay on the glass table top. "No, don't go over what could-have-been. Maybe you could just be glad for the time we have now." His pain was palpable, and Sacha wasn't sure how much more of this intensity she could manage.

  Samuel simply nodded. "I need to lie down. I'm so tired."

  "Of course." She felt emotionally wrung out also, and his face was very pale. "I'll let Helen know."

  "No, don't call that old woman," he said. "I can do it myself." He looked up at her. "How about a hug for the old man?"

  Sacha stared at him, the hopeful expression on his face. Could she give him what he wanted? He hadn't demanded it of her, but he'd obviously said it with his heart.

  Leaning forward, she let him embrace her, and she lightly put her arms around him, closing her eyes for a moment.

  When he got himself settled in the bed, resting on top of the covers, she thought how vulnerable he looked, shorter than the six feet or so he looked when standing.

  "Kate, do you think you can stay for a little while so we can really talk?"

  "Well, just a few minutes. If you're tired, you need to rest."

  "So tell me, how did Trey find you?"

  "What did he tell you?" she asked.

  "Nothing. He can be real closemouthed when he sets his mind to it."

  Sighing, Sacha sat down.

  #

  Sacha had a restless night, unable to sleep. She took off for a jog just past daybreak, grabbing a water bottle and a quickly made peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stuffing them into an old backpack she found in the bedroom.

  She jogged and hiked up into the hills for over two hours, then reached a stone ledge where she just sat and looked around, seeing the ranch below her, the mountains in the distance. It was so beautiful she knew it needed to be painted. She itched to create portraits of the hills, so she pulled her cell phone out of her pack and took a series of pictures.

  Feeling a wonderful peace inside, Sacha began the trek back to the farm. As she passed by the barns she was surprised to see a compact blue car parked on the old service road. As she drew nearer the car began to move forward, and then it veered toward a graveled path and onto the main road. She couldn't see the driver, and for some reason she felt a faint uneasiness.

  Shaking it off, she entered the house through the back door, noticing the early morning stillness. She pushed open the kitchen door and propped her knapsack against the wall.

  She grabbed an apple from a wicker basket on the counter, rinsed it and rolled it between her palms. Leaning against the counter, she took a bite of the crisp fruit.

  The inner kitchen door swung and Trey entered the room, stopping when he saw her. He placed his hat on the counter and reached for a coffee cup. "Where have you been? We've been worried."

  "Well, I'm back." Calmly, she returned his gaze, taking another bite.

  Trey lifted the coffee pot and poured coffee into his cup. Leaving the cup on the granite counter top, he walked over to her. "What do you think you're doing?"

  Defensively, she stiffened her stance. "Eating an apple."

  "I have to correct a notion you might have before it gets out of hand," he said, his voice pitched low. "Just because Katharine disappeared all the time when she was younger doesn't mean I want you doing the same thing, getting everyone into an uproar."

  She looked at him incredulously, then laughed. "No one's in an uproar. Get over it."

  She stepped sideways. He was really much too close for comfort. She could see the fine bristles of hair on his chin…smell the tantalizing scent of soap. An undeniable frisson of electricity raced across her skin. Trey's eyes dropped to her mouth. She frowned.

  "I won't have Samuel worried," he said.

  "He's never up this early." She looked at the watch on her wrist. "It's only eight."

  Trey turned her wrist toward him, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he also looked at the watch. "So it is." He released her wrist. "Nice watch."

  "We both know why I'm here, so just relax. I'm keeping up my end of the bargain," she said.

  "We might have to renegotiate."

  "What?"

  "Your time here."

  She shook her head. "No way." Chewing the corner o
f her lip, Sacha walked around him and made for the kitchen door.

  "Don't disappear again. The old man can't handle it."

  She turned. "He doesn't --"

  "And he does know what goes on around here, even when you think he doesn't."

  "I'll talk to him," she said.

  "Do you want coffee?" he asked.

  "Yes, actually I do."

  He poured her a cup and left it on the counter top.

  Sacha stepped back toward him and for some reason just stood there. They looked at each other. He raised one hand, his touch light as he pushed back a swathe of hair that had worked its way loose from her pony tail. She caught her breath. It had been a long time since she had allowed any man to touch her.

  "No." She had to think clearly.

  "Katharine."

  "No. You have me mixed up with her."

  "I know who's standing here with me now," Trey said.

  "Do you really? I don't think so, just like I don't know who you are." But the usual antagonism wasn't there. She grabbed her coffee cup, pushed open the inner door and left the kitchen.

  "So does that mean you're hiding something?" he asked, following her out into the hallway.

  She continued toward the front of the house. "Why don't you do some more investigating and see what you find," she said tersely, trying to regain her equilibrium. "Now if you don't mind, I'm having my coffee on the verandah."

  "I don't have to investigate anything to know that sometimes we're alike," he said.

  That stopped her in her tracks, one hand on the front door latch.

  "You can be a loner too," he said. "I was abandoned when I was three years old."

  Sacha looked back at him, shocked at his words. "That's terrible." She studied him. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Maybe to let you know there's worse things in this life than being blindsided by the bad choices other people make. You can't let it rule the rest of your life."

  "I'm here, aren't I? So apparently that doesn't apply to me. Thanks for the coffee." She pulled the door open.

  "Looks like you have company," Trey murmured.

  She looked outside to see a car pull up out front and a tall man exit the vehicle.

  "Harry!"