The Hungry Heart

by Brenda Gayle

  Nora started to walk toward the door. She didn’t want to hear this.

  “But he’s like a kid with a shiny new toy.” Taylor followed her across the room. “At first he can’t get enough of it. But when the novelty fades, he moves on to the next bright, shiny thing.” There was no bitterness in Taylor’s voice. “I have to admit I did wonder about you, though,” she continued. “You were so different from the others that I thought…maybe?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren’t wrong,” Nora said, determined to project an image of self-confidence, even if she didn’t really feel it. It shouldn’t matter, but her ego wanted to prove herself better than the other woman. “I was the one that ended things with Hunter.”

  “Really?” Taylor’s eyes widened in surprise. “Self-preservation? Good for you. I wouldn’t have had the strength to walk away—not while he was still interested.”

  “This is a ridiculous conversation.” Nora brushed past Taylor in her hurry to get out of the suite.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Taylor called.

  “What?” Nora whirled around, annoyed to find Taylor laughing at her.

  “Keycard.”

  She reached into her pocket, whipped the card at Taylor, and then hurried from the suite.

  Nora was surprised to find the sun hadn’t set when she exited the hotel lobby. It had seemed like an eternity since she’d arrived, but it had only been about forty minutes.

  She stopped and closed her eyes trying to block from her mind the image of Taylor laughing at her. She was right. Nora had fallen in love with Hunter. It was the stupidest, most idiotic thing she had ever done. She had known where things stood from the beginning. He had always been clear that he wasn’t interested in anything serious. But Nora was a serious person. She should have known herself better, trusted her instincts, and stayed away.

  “Miss Cross? Are you okay?”

  Nora opened her eyes and gazed back at the bellman. “Fine, thank you.”

  “Can I call you a cab?”

  “No. I’m going to walk.”

  She forced her legs to move, and headed down the hotel driveway and across the street to the old historic plaza.

  Taylor had probably been right about Hunter’s penchant for going after “shiny new objects,” too. She had been a fool to think things had been different with her. It was just his way with women. He genuinely liked them and wanted to make them feel special. And he had made her feel special—very special.

  He had also tried to be there to help her recover from the shooting—he didn’t have to do that. Now she needed to be there for him. It would be agony seeing him again, especially if he turned her away. But she had to try. She’d promised Libby.

  The descending sun cast criss-crossed shadows from the pines and spruce trees that circled the grassy plaza. The few tourists had left, and only the die-hard regulars remained on the benches to take advantage of the last rays of daylight. Soon they would give way to the teenagers who made the place their own each evening.

  Nora loved the plaza. As she followed the path that led to the obelisk at its center, she tried to focus on the beauty of this oasis in the heart of the city, rather than on what was troubling her. Signs of spring and renewal were everywhere, and she felt her heart lighten somewhat.

  Up ahead she noticed a familiar form sitting on a bench, his head bowed over a book. Beside him she noticed a walker. Not well enough for crutches, then, but at least not bad enough for the wheelchair.

  “Gary!” Nora walked quickly toward him.

  Chapter 21

  Aunt Betty’s house was silent. Hunter couldn’t ever remember it being so quiet—not even after the shocking death of his mother by that drunk driver. His father and uncle stood occasionally to pace around the living room. Aunt Ginny sat on the couch holding Aunt Betty’s hands. Both their heads were bowed in prayer.

  Anna had escaped into her office. Hunter didn’t blame her. He’d rather be in his kitchen, feeling the textures of the vegetables and herbs, the grains and meats, as he fashioned them into a harmonious concoction that delighted the senses—total control and total oblivion.

  There was nothing to be done but wait for news, and that could be days in coming.

  I’ve got to get out of here.

  “I’m going to check on Anna,” Hunter said. His words elicited the barest of nods from Aunt Ginny, the only one to acknowledge him.

  Anna was sitting at the big oak desk when he entered the office. She had the chair swiveled around so her back was to him. He couldn’t see what she was staring at. He presumed it was the family photos that lined the back wall, probably the one of a very young Michael astride a Shetland pony. Michael had been about three or so, and even then his terror showed plainly on his face.

  “Anna?”

  Slowly she turned around. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she looked composed.

  “I don’t know how Mom’s going to survive this,” she said. “With everything that happened after Dad died, she was just getting back to normal—and now this.”

  Hunter walked around the desk and perched on the edge, close to her. “She’ll survive because she has you, and me, and Chad, and Ginny and the old men.”

  “I just wish we knew something.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “I know.” Anna sighed, and idly swung the chair back and forth. Her head was bent in thought. When she looked up, her expression had changed from deep sorrow to concern. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “How is Nora holding up?”

  “Nora? What do you mean?” Why would she ask about Nora? She knew they weren’t together anymore.

  Anna stared at him for some time. When she spoke, it was cautiously, as if she was weighing each word carefully. “You know, the non-profit world is pretty small, and when you’re dealing with issues of social welfare and child advocacy, it’s even smaller.”

  He waited for her to make her point.

  “The executive director of the Graham Foundation was approached by the Children’s Action Network.”

  “Are you saying Nora’s stealing your staff?” He was surprised. That didn’t sound like Nora.

  “No. It wasn’t Nora. It was someone on her board.” When he didn’t say anything she huffed and glared at him as if he was an idiot. “They’re recruiting for her position.”

  “What? She’s left? That can’t be right. She started that organization. It’s her life.” He was stunned. Maybe the shooting had resulted in an even more profound change in her than he’d thought.

  “The official word is that she and her board had a parting of ways over key policy issues. But I’ve done some checking, and what I heard is that the directors of the board insisted she stop seeing you and she told them to shove it.”

  If the board had intervened in their relationship, that would explain Becca’s refusal to contact him after Nora’s shooting, Hunter thought. She’d said the chair had told her that they weren’t seeing each other anymore. And it would explain Nora’s sudden ending of their relationship. She’d always made it clear that her career came first.

  It stung to think that he was so easily dismissed. He thought what they’d had was pretty special.

  And yet, what Anna said didn’t make sense. Nora had ended things with him—so why was she leaving the association she had dedicated her life to?

  “I think your sources are mistaken,” Hunter said. “The board may have told her to stop seeing me, and if they did, she agreed. Remember, she broke things off, not me.”

  “No, I’m afraid not. My source is rock-solid. She’s leaving CAN because of you.”

  “Why would she sacrifice her career by letting the board believe she was going to continue to see me when she wasn’t? It makes no sense.”

  Anna shrugged. “Scruples. She probably felt it was inappropriate for the board to involve itself in her personal life and said so. As for why she chose to e
nd things with you, I can only guess. You’re not exactly Mr. Commitment, are you?”

  “Okay, the scruples thing sounds like Nora,” Hunter agreed, “but don’t try pinning the rest of it on me. She knew what she was getting into from the start. I was very up-front with her.”

  “You should call her. Make sure she’s okay.”

  He had thought about calling Nora a hundred times over the last few weeks. He had even dialed her cell phone a couple of times. But he’d hung up before the call could go through. What if she refused to talk to him? She had barely been able to look at him when he’d visited her in the hospital, and she had almost taken out several hotel patrons in her haste to get away from him when he’d last seen her in the lobby of the Roundtree. “She doesn’t want to see me,” he said. “It’s best if I just leave her alone.”

  “Well, you’ll do what you want regardless of what anyone else thinks or needs,” Anna said, rising and walking out of the office.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” Hunter said. He needed some time to gather his thoughts before rejoining the family.

  “Take your time,” she said over her shoulder. “It’s your office anyway.”

  Hunter buried his face in his hands trying to push away his last image of Nora. She had looked at him as if he was a stranger. The memory stabbed at his heart.

  What was it about her that made it so difficult for him to let her go? Was it solely that she had been the one to end things? Granted he wasn’t used to that, but still...It had been three weeks and he was still overwhelmed by a dreaded sense of loss every time he contemplated returning to his empty suite.

  He had tried, right after she left him, to date other women. It hadn’t worked out. Dinner, light conversation, and a peck on the cheek were all that he could manage. He knew his reputation was in tatters, but he didn’t care. He’d given up after the third attempt—if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with Miss October, then there was no hope for him.

  “Hey,” a voice said from the doorway.

  He turned to see Taylor striding over to him.

  “Was it there?” Hunter asked.

  “Yup.” She tossed an envelope at him.

  He slid off the desk and into the large rolling chair Anna had recently vacated. The return address identified the insurance company. Thank goodness. He ripped it open, and quickly scanned the letter. His initial optimism faded with each paragraph. “Damn.”

  “Not what you were hoping for?”

  “No. I need to find a way for Michael to be declared dead—to make sure the crazies out there don’t come after Aunt Betty with news of random sightings or even worse, kidnapping claims and ransom demands. It has to be clear, and it has to be official.”

  “But without a body...”

  “Without a body the insurance company can’t—or won’t—do anything.” He thrummed his fingers on the desk, thinking. There had to be a way. The insurance company said the Las Cruces police were still investigating, and the local chief was reluctant to close the file without a body. Well, Hunter would have to go to a higher authority, and he knew just the person who could do it. “Thanks, Taylor.”

  She didn’t move and he looked up at her, suddenly uncomfortable. Surely she wasn’t going to try hitting on him now?

  “I should tell you that there was someone else in your suite when I got there,” she said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, your community service project.”

  “Nora?” He felt his pulse race, although he tried to hide his excitement.

  “You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?” Taylor’s eyes narrowed, making her look ferocious. “It’s one thing to mess around with models or starlets or even the occasional heiress—we all know the game. But it’s not fair to go after civilians, Hunter. They don’t know the rules. It becomes a bloodbath—there’s no way they can come out unscathed.”

  “Shit, Taylor, speak English.”

  “I mean she’s in love with you, moron. Like me, like all the others, but maybe worse because she doesn’t know how to play the game. She probably believed you really cared about her—that it was more than sex for you.”

  Hunter jumped back as if she’d slapped him. He’d never seen her so angry before.

  “Oh, I’m sure you told her you weren’t the settling-down kind of guy—you’re always very honest about that—but everything you did told her otherwise,” Taylor said. “Civilians have such a positive view of the world…they believe in goodness and light…they believe in honor and integrity. But mostly, they believe people can change, become better human beings. We know better, though, don’t we, Hunter? People like you and me, we don’t change.”

  Her words stung, but he saw the truth in them, too, and it sickened him. He looked down, ashamed to meet her gaze.

  He’d always thought of himself as honest and forthright. With the notable exception of Taylor, he believed he’d never led a woman on. He treated them like goddesses. He bent over backward to be interested in them as people, not just in their bodies. But Taylor was right about one thing: he had never fully given himself to any of them, never intended to. His words and deeds did not match up.

  Nora had integrity. She’d stood up to her board for what she believed in, and it had cost her the job she loved. Could Taylor also be right about Nora being in love with him?

  Nora had played by the rules he had set out. But had the game changed for her? If so, he knew her well enough to know that she would have chosen to end their relationship rather than force him to face what she believed he would never want.

  And Anna? How long had she waited for him to do the right thing, and tell his father and uncle that he had no intention of returning to run Tres Hermanos? Too long.

  He raised his head to thank Taylor, but she was gone. He sighed. Well, he had two people mad at him—Anna and Taylor—he might as well go for the trifecta and see if he couldn’t piss off the old men, too.

  Hunter ducked his head into the living room. “Dad, Uncle Ike, can I speak to you for a moment? In the office?”

  Anna raised her eyebrows quizzically, and he smiled at her and nodded. Yes, I’m going to do the right thing—finally.

  “Do you have news?” Ben, his father, asked. Neither of the old men took the chairs Hunter indicated. He perched on the corner of the desk, deliberately avoiding the power position seated behind it. He didn’t want to send the wrong signals. Match your words and actions.

  The uncertainty of Michael’s fate seemed to have aged his father and uncle. Maybe now wasn’t the best time. For a moment Hunter thought about delaying his announcement. No, he told himself. The time will never be perfect. There will always be something. He couldn’t keep putting it off. It wasn’t fair to any of them.

  “No news. I wanted to talk to you about something else. About Tres Hermanos.”

  “Yes, in light of what’s happened, I think it’s more important than ever that we get the paperwork in place to formalize the transfer of ownership. Michael’s disappearance highlights just how uncertain life can be,” Ike said.

  “How quickly can you find someone to run your restaurant?” Ben asked.

  Hunter held up his hands to slow them down. “Wait, please.” His heart was racing, and he could feel his palms go cold and clammy. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. These were hard men who had lived hard lives. They weren’t going to take kindly to having their wishes challenged.

  The only way Michael and Chad had gotten free of Tres Hermanos was to almost totally cut themselves off from the ranch. They were rarely home, and when they were, the tension was thick between them and the old men.

  Hunter didn’t want to lose his family, his home, but he had to do this. Nora had sacrificed what she most loved, her career, to do what was right. Could he do any less? He took a deep breath.

  “I’m not leaving my restaurant, and I’m not coming to run Tres Hermanos.”

  “What?” The men said in unison. Shock was evident on their fac
es.

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  “What do you mean you’re sorry but you can’t?” Ike yelled.

  “Wait, he’s my son. I’ll deal with him,” Ben said, stepping forward.

  Hunter remained where he was, determined not to move, not to be intimidated. He didn’t doubt his father would hit him if he was angry enough, but he refused to back down or to show any doubt in his decision. He raised his chin in defiance.

  Ben’s voice was deceptively soft. “What is this all about, then?”

  “I love Tres Hermanos and I want to remain a part of it. But I want to run my restaurant, not the ranch.”

  He thought about telling them Anna would make an excellent successor, but given the anger blazing in their eyes, Hunter felt that would only throw fuel on the fire and hurt his cousin’s future prospects. Gaining control of Rancho Tres Hermanos would be her battle to fight. He could only clear away the main obstacle—himself.

  “Sissies run restaurants. Are you a sissy, son?” Ben’s face was less than an inch from his own, and Hunter could feel the spittle from the esses on his cheeks, as he knew he was supposed to.

  “Many of the top chefs in the world are men, and running a restaurant is as challenging as running a ranch.”

  Ben took a step back in revulsion, and Hunter let out the breath he had been holding.

  “You’re upset about Michael. We all are. You just need some time. You’ll come around,” Ben said.

  “No sir, I will not. On this I am firm.”

  “Then leave Tres Hermanos,” Ben yelled. “You’re no longer welcome here.” He and Ike turned on their heels, and Hunter could hear their feet stomping down the hallway, back to the living room—back to the family. His family.

  He glanced around the office, and walked around the desk to stare at the wall of family photographs. He could almost identify the date when each of the photos was taken—even the very early ones of his grandparents shortly after they’d arrived to settle the land.

  Maybe Dad and Uncle Ike will come around, he thought, although I doubt it.

  It was done. They had reacted exactly as he’d expected them to, exactly as they had with Michael and with Chad. He hadn’t really believed it would be different for him.