“Nobody told me it was going to be like this,” Cole choked. “I want to be a kid again.”
Tears rolled down Riley’s cheeks. First my grandfather, then Aunt Amelia, and now Grandmam Billie. He wasn’t sure who was trembling, Cole or himself. He clutched at his cousin’s arm as sobs ripped from his throat.
They cried then. For the would-haves, the should-haves, the could-haves. Neither of them saw Thad, Rand, and Cary enter and quickly leave the room. Neither of them saw Susan enter and retreat from the room either.
A long time later Cole asked hoarsely, “What time is it?”
Riley squinted at his watch. “Almost ten o’clock. Why?”
“We’ve been sitting here for a long time. I need to make some decisions. I feel almost sober. Help me, Riley.”
“Sawyer isn’t going to bend. That’s a given: Were you serious about merging the families?”
“Yes. I wish I knew why I didn’t do it sooner. That’s going to haunt me forever,” Cole said, blowing his nose loudly.
“I don’t think it’s important anymore. Anything before this moment is ancient history. But if we don’t go forward, we’re lost. Now that we think we know grandfather’s secret to success, we have to follow in his footsteps. Even if for some reason the giving . . . wasn’t part of his success, I still think we should go ahead. We’ll look into foundations. We could do a lot for the homeless. There’s churches. I’d personally like to do something for animals. Buy a nature preserve somewhere, fund it so animals don’t have to be destroyed. God, we could do so much.”
“What about Sawyer?” Cole asked miserably.
“Think about this, Cole. If it wasn’t for Sawyer, we wouldn’t be uniting East and West. She probably deserves our thanks.”
“Get off it, Riley. You’re getting carried away. She’ll hold it over our heads for the rest of our lives if we admit she was the one who brought us to our senses. You wanna live with that?”
Riley pondered the question. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly.
“Okay,” Cole said, “tomorrow we’ll kiss her feet and make nice.”
He sounds relieved, Riley thought. “What about Cary?” he asked. “With this economy and his present condition, who in the hell is going to lend him money on Miranda? The memorial he’s building to Amelia isn’t even finished. It was a magnificent gesture on his part to fund the plane, but I don’t think he thought it through. They’ll kill him with interest payments. He could lose the place. Although we could do it,” Riley said slyly.
“Do what?”
“Take the mortgage. We can talk to Valentine Mitchell and see how it’s done. Probably a dummy company someplace in New York, or maybe an English one. Cary will never need to know we’re behind it. This way he’ll never lose Miranda. You control the money, Cole, so once again, it has to be your decision.”
“We control the money. We shook hands on it on the way over. But what if Cary does find out?” Cole said, a frown building on his face.
“Then we say we’re just two wild, crazy kids who got carried away with all that money. The bottom line is we protect Cary. That inner city is his life. You comfortable with this, Cole? The truth.”
Was he? “Yes. Jesus, I feel like I’ve been reborn. And the best part is, we have a secret Sawyer will never know. That gives us the edge.” He laughed uproariously. Riley joined in, slapping him on the back.
“Let’s make some coffee and work off this drunk,” Riley said, teetering his way toward the kitchen.
“You make it, I want to call Sumi,” Cole said, lagging behind. “Riley?” Cole whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“You bet.”
Sawyer stepped out from behind the wide folding doors of the great room, a gleeful smile on her face. The little shits. She danced a jig and silently clapped her hands. Wait till she told Adam. An hour earlier, when she’d cried her eyes out to her husband, he’d said, “Don’t sell those guys short, either one of them. Somehow, some way, they’ll come through for you.”
When it came down to the wire, when it really counted, you could always depend on family.
Family.
Maggie lay in the darkness. Faint moonlight seeped through the vertical blinds. She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d run up here like a child to throw herself on the bed. She cringed now with shame at what she’d done. How could she have reacted like that? How? She rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. How careful she’d been to stay on her side of the bed. She knew, without having to turn on the light, that there wasn’t even one wrinkle on Rand’s side.
Rand was the reason she was here cowering like a criminal. Rand was the reason she’d blurted out that hateful word, “outsider.” It wasn’t just Mam and her illness.
She flopped over onto her back. Ten minutes to twelve. She turned the light off. Earlier she’d heard footsteps in the hall: Sawyer’s clumping boots, then Cole and Riley walking past her door. None of them had knocked, none of them had called her name. She was a pariah now. She’d heard Rand talking to Thad and Cary in the courtyard. The three of them had driven off together. She hadn’t heard Susan, though. She’d counted on Susan to just open the door and whisper her name, but it hadn’t happened.
Her face burned with shame and guilt when she remembered the way she’d pleaded, sobbing at her mother’s door, begging her to talk to her, only to have Thad say, “Your mother doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” Until tonight, no matter what, her mother had never, ever, refused to listen, to offer advice, to help make things right.
That was a separate issue. Tomorrow, today actually, she could attempt to make things right with Cary, to explain why she’d acted the way she had. She could explain to Mam. Mam would understand. Rand. Rand was the problem.
Maggie was off the bed the moment her head started to buzz lightly. She threw open the window, taking great gulping breaths.
Rand was her reason for being. She had no one else. Sawyer was in New York with her family. Cole was in Japan with his. They didn’t need her, and that’s the way it should be. Mam had Thad. Susan . . . would have Cary, even though neither one of them realized it yet. Riley had his family. Rand had his daughter, Chesney.
She’d picked up on the change in Rand during the days he spent in Minnesota with Valentine Mitchell. He’d always admired Valentine, had said so more than once. The two of them had been together in a cozy little house in the Midwest, working side by side, eating together, riding together in the car, having drinks in font of the fire. Rand did love a good fire. She could picture the two of them laughing, talking, sharing secrets of a sort. And then, over drinks, looking into one another’s eyes and . . .
It had happened. That much she was sure of. As to the date and the exact hour . . . well, the poor little wife didn’t get to know everything.
How she’d looked forward to Rand returning to Sunbridge. She’d counted on his support. She had needed it to face the fact of her mother’s illness. But he hadn’t opened his arms to her. She’d run to him, throwing her arms around him. He’d had no other choice but to embrace her. He hadn’t looked her in the eye, though, hadn’t said he missed her, hadn’t smiled. She’d known for certain then that he’d slept with Valentine.
Should she confront him? Should she tell him to move out of the house? Cary had done the same thing to Amelia. That’s why she’d blurted out that hateful word. Amelia had forgiven Cary, though.
Amelia had confided in her once, late at night. She had admitted she was ill and couldn’t give Cary what he needed in the bedroom. She had said she knew about Julie, Thad’s niece. She’d gone to extraordinary lengths to cover up her knowledge of the affair and at the same time make it easier for Cary. How noble and unselfish she had been. “Because I love Cary more than life itself, Maggie darling,” she’d said. “And I’m so very old, Maggie.” Amelia had whimpered then, and Maggie had done her best to comfort her. How could she know then that Cary’s betr
ayal with Julie had happened in her own house in Hawaii?
“Well, I’m not old, and I’m not in poor health. I can’t forgive this betrayal,” Maggie cried, heartbroken.
Her conscience prodded her. It probably didn’t mean anything. These things happened.
Not to me they don’t, she told herself. She believed in fidelity, in honoring one’s marriage vows. She’d never cheated on him.
Did she have the opportunity? No. She knew she couldn’t say what she would or wouldn’t do if she were in a similar situation. The right moment, her conscience responded, a drink, your guard is down and ...
You’re wrong, Maggie argued silently. I love Rand. Loved. No matter what, she would never be unfaithful. Rand was going to pretend nothing happened. He thought she didn’t know. I know. Damnit, I know. He couldn’t face her. That’s why he wasn’t here with her. Under normal circumstances, he would . . . would . . . he would be here with her, consoling her over Mam. She never would have blurted out what she did to Cary if Rand hadn’t . . . forget it! Maggie sobbed, running to the bed.
Her conscience pricked a third time. Isn’t all this just your jealousy of Valentine? You envy her ability. It’s possible she tried to seduce Rand, and he almost gave in, and that’s why he’s feeling guilty. You could be wrong. You must have some doubts.
“None,” Maggie said, punching the pillow. “I know, don’t you understand?” A woman knows when her husband betrays her. She might not admit it, for whatever her reasons, but she knows. She was relieved when her conscience remained silent.
It was ten minutes past one when the car’s headlights arced on the bedroom wall. Maggie slid from the bed and walked over to the open window. Down below she could see Thad and Rand talking in low voices. They must have stopped at a diner for coffee after they dropped Cary off. Would Rand come to the room now? Not likely. Where would he sleep?
Maggie settled herself into a sapphire-blue slipper chair, her eyes glued to the bottom of the door where the hallway light filtered through. Thad had to go past the door. She would hear him or see a break in the light. Through the kitchen, to the back hall, across the family room, out to the center hall and the stairway, and up the steps. She counted, wondering if he knew about the kitchen stairway alongside the refrigerator. Not that it mattered one way or the other. Down the hall now. She waited, holding her breath, for the break in the light at the bottom of the door.
Tears rolled down Maggie’s cheeks. She wiped at them with the sleeve of her shirt. As the hours crawled by, she forced herself to think of other things: her mother, her children, Susan and Cary, but she always came back to Rand. Once again her world was upside down.
It was still dark at five-thirty when Maggie washed her face and brushed her hair. An early morning gallop would do her a world of good. A brisk ride in the fresh air might clear the cobwebs out of her head. She was on the landing of the stairs when she sensed a presence nearby. She turned, expecting to see Rand. Sawyer brought her finger to her lips for silence. Maggie nodded and motioned for her daughter to follow her.
“Don’t say anything, Sawyer. Please, I’d like you to join me in a ride. I need to talk to someone. What that means is I’d appreciate it if you would listen.”
“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” Sawyer said when they were in the stable.
“No, I didn’t. Did you?”
“Not really. I’m so used to sleeping with one eye and ear open for the twins, I guess . . . I doubt if anyone in this house slept well last night. But we’re talking about you. What’s wrong, Maggie?”
Maggie pulled the cinch tighter, then turned to face Sawyer. “Rand cheated on me. He slept with Valentine Mitchell,” she said cooly. “Last night, when I said what I did to Cary, it just hit me that he’d done the same thing to Amelia. Nobody knows better than I that it was an unforgivable thing to say. I love Cary. I would never knowingly do or say anything to hurt him. I don’t know what to do. I can’t . . . forgive Rand. Not now anyway. The funny thing is, Sawyer, he doesn’t even know I know. He didn’t come to our room at all last night. That’s his guilt. When I was married to Cranston, I became an expert on infidelity. I swore it would never happen to me again. I thought we had such a wonderful marriage. I likened it in my mind to Mam and Thad’s marriage.”
As they rode off, Maggie took the lead, her heels digging into the horse’s flanks. It was still too dark to see well. She’s going to kill herself, Sawyer thought. Sawyer’s own horse, chomping at the bit to follow the other, reared to show his disapproval. “What the hell?” Sawyer muttered, loosening the reins in her hands. “Follow that horse,” she said dramatically.
Forty minutes later Sawyer reined in. They were on Jarvis land. By squinting, she could make out her husband’s family home. She wondered if Maggie had lost her bearings in the dark or if this was her destination from the beginning. It was almost full light, that purplish-gray part of the morning that heralds a bright, beautiful day.
“Let’s go over to the house and sit on the swing,” Maggie called over her shoulder. Sawyer nodded.
This was nice, Sawyer thought. Adam would be pleased that she’d ridden out to check on the house. They really had to think about bringing the girls here for a while in the summer. It would be wonderful to get out of the city in August.
Maggie was already on the swing when Sawyer rode up to the hitching post alongside the house. The mare whickered softly as Sawyer slid from her back. She joined her mother on the swing.
“I always liked this house,” Maggie said.
“I always liked it too. Adam had a very happy childhood here.”
“I had a miserable childhood,” Maggie said.
“I know.”
“Thanks to Mam, you had the best.”
“I know that too,” Sawyer said. “I thank God every day.”
“I’ve always kind of talked to God. I say prayers every night before I go to sleep. I always say . . . said, thanks for giving me such a wonderful marriage. Guess I won’t be saying that anymore. In fact, I probably won’t be doing much praying from here on in.”
“Are you saying you’re giving up on God?” Sawyer asked in disbelief.
“I just said I won’t be doing much praying. I didn’t say I was giving up on God. Only a fool would do that. I’m kind of numb, Sawyer, so don’t hit on me right now.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Go back to Hawaii this evening. I canceled Rand’s flight. I don’t want him in the house. I ... I’ll have to tell him, I guess,” Maggie mumbled.
“I would think so,” Sawyer said.
“Susan is going to stay here. She didn’t say so, but I think . . . she will. I’ll keep myself busy. There’s a lot of work that has to be done to get Mam’s old business back in the running. Maybe I’m making a mistake by going back. Maybe I should stay here. I’ll be closer to you and Mam. I can get an apartment in town or I can ask Riley and Ivy if I can rent Mam’s old studio. What I have to do is make a decision. What do you think?”
“You told me you just wanted me to listen,” Sawyer chided gently. She fished around in her jeans pocket and withdrew a key ring. She worked one off and handed it to her mother. “You have to do what is right for you. This is the key to the house. Stay here if you like. Adam will be grateful that someone is here to look after the place.”
“What’s your opinion of Valentine Mitchell?” Maggie asked carefully.
“I’ve always thought her a very capable person, and I’ve always liked her. And yes, she’s attractive. That’s really what you want to know, isn’t it? But then so are you. I’ve always liked her.”
“How could she do this to me?”
“It takes two people, Maggie,” Sawyer said gently.
“I’m very well aware of that. It just makes it a little easier if I place some of the blame on Val.”
“You said Rand doesn’t know you know. How did you find out?”
“No one told me, if that’s your question. It’s just something
I know, something I feel. I’m not wrong, Sawyer.”
“You mean you just think Rand slept with Val?” Maggie nodded. “What if you’re wrong? What if you accuse Rand and you find out it never happened? I just assumed someone told you or you . . . oh, Lord, I don’t know what I thought,” Sawyer said sourly.
“Come on, time to get back. Don’t worry about me, Sawyer, and thanks for the key. If I decide to stay on, I’ll let you know. What time is your plane?”
“Eleven o’clock. What time is yours?”
“Five, if I decide to take it. I enjoyed the ride. And the company,” Maggie said wanly.
“Me too,” Sawyer said softly.
Back at the barn, Sawyer turned the horse over to her mother. “Will you rub him down for me? I have to take another shower and see if I can do something with my hair.”
Maggie nodded.
Once the horses were rubbed down and secure in their stalls, Maggie trudged out to the courtyard. She couldn’t ever remember being this tired, this discouraged, this betrayed. She wanted to cry, needed to cry, but a release of tears eluded her. How could Rand do this to her? Had he done this before? How was she going to get through this?
She looked at her watch—seven o’clock. She felt like a tired war horse when she struggled up from the milk crate on which she’d been sitting. Time to make the trek up the hill, the only place left for her to go. She brushed at her tears with the back of her hand.
She picked her way carefully, remembering other times she’d gone up to the peaceful cemetery to talk things out. First to her father, then to Riley’s father and Amelia. And always she felt better when she walked down the hill.
The path was overgrown, the medallions of stone covered with moss, which was slippery with early morning dew. Obviously Riley and Ivy didn’t come to the hill. Why should they? she thought. Thanks to me and Cole, they have everything. She stopped in her tracks and covered her face with her hands. God, what was wrong with her? Why was she thinking like this? She looked at the footpath again, at the overgrown brush and moss. When you were dead, you were forgotten. She sobbed then, in great racking heaves that seemed to echo over the hill.
Texas Sunrise Page 18
