Second Chance At the Ranch

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Second Chance At the Ranch Page 29

by Maxine Morrey


  The house had been completed only a few weeks after she had left him outside the pub in town. He’d stood there, watching the dust as the bus barrelled down the road away from him, hoping that she would turn around, at least give him one last look. But she didn’t. Still he stood, wanting, waiting for the brake lights to flash, for the bus to stop and for Hero to step off, back out into the glare of the sun, back into his life. But it didn’t. And she didn’t. Lying on the sofa, he reached out, snagging his phone from the coffee table Hero had picked out. No missed calls. No messages.

  Chapter 21

  Nick knew that it was incredibly bad manners to ring anyone at such an ungodly hour, but he couldn’t wait. He’d made the decision and now he had to put his thoughts into action.

  ‘You’d better have a really good explanation for this.’ Paul Sullivan’s sleep-drenched voice croaked into his ear.

  ‘I need a favour.’

  Half an hour later the two men were in Paul’s new car, heading for the city.

  Paul yawned loudly, not even bothering to cover his mouth. There was no one around at this time of the morning to notice his lack of manners, except Nick, but he didn’t count as he was the one responsible from pulling him away from his warm, comfortable bed in the first place. He flashed his friend a tired, disgruntled look but Nick could see the smile that lay beneath. There was no point in telling Paul how much he appreciated his help, and his friendship. It was unspoken, as always. Nick knew that he was lucky he could still call him that.

  Pulling into the drop-off area, Paul knocked the gear stick into neutral. Glancing at his friend, as Nick grabbed his bag from the back seat, he could only hope this scheme worked.

  ‘OK then. Here goes nothing.’

  ‘Think positive, mate.’ Paul leant over from the wheel and gave his friend a hug. He knew that this, that Hero, meant everything to Nick. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks, mate. For everything.’ Jumping out of the truck, he gave a quick wave and then he turned and headed into the building.

  ‘Well, what friend? Where?’ Juliet asked, reading Nick’s note over her husband’s shoulder as he sat at the kitchen table.

  Pete flipped the paper over briefly to see if he had missed anything. ‘Dunno. Doesn’t say.’

  ‘Do you think he’s all right?’ Juliet was as concerned about Nick as everyone else. Plus she was desperate to tell him that Hero had finally asked about him. Although her sister’s email had been sent several days ago, their connection had been playing up and Juliet had only just got it today – after Nick’s sudden, and unexpected, departure. Juliet plopped down heavily on the chair next to her husband and sighed.

  The cancellation flight Nick had been waiting for finally arrived and he was called to the desk to ask if he wished to accept it. Nick handed over his credit card taking his seat shortly afterwards on a Qantas flight, routing via Sydney to London Heathrow.

  Nick gave the taxi driver the address, before settling back in the seat and trying, unsuccessfully, to get warm. The driver caught his passenger’s accent and made a remark about the change of temperatures. Nick agreed grimly that it was definitely a little chillier than when he’d left home. He returned to gazing out of the window at the unfamiliar surroundings of London. As the icy wind whistled over the car, Nick shivered involuntarily. In his haste he had thrown on his lightweight jacket. If he was to find Hero at all, he’d need to buy some warmer clothes or risk freezing to death before he ever got the chance to see her.

  The cabbie sat in the traffic and cast a glance back at his fare. For a big bloke, it was amazing how small the man had managed to make himself. The driver turned a dial on the dashboard and warm air gushed out with even more vigour.

  Thorne-Smith Holdings. Nick read the elegant brass plate that announced the company within the building he stood before. He looked at his watch. 8.30 a.m. He didn’t know if anyone would even be here yet, but he was prepared to wait.

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’ the receptionist asked.

  ‘Not exactly.’

  Nick had already noted the security guards. He would have to handle this carefully, calmly. They looked as if they would have no compunction about tossing him back out into the cold, and he hadn’t even begun to thaw out yet.

  ‘I don’t have an appointment. I did leave a message, but I had to leave for the airport before he got back to me.’ Nick smiled. He knew he probably looked pretty rough after all the travelling and lack of sleep, nothing like the average visitor to the premises. At least not by the looks he was drawing from the employees as they filtered into work, some suspicious, some intrigued and some just plain bored at the thought of another day stuck in front of a computer terminal. Nick felt a pull inside for the station and pushed it back. He looked back at the receptionist. She was young, pretty, very blonde. She was also looking a little unsure. Nick felt bad about compromising her – but he’d come this far and there was no way he was leaving.

  ‘I’m really sorry to cause any inconvenience. Can’t you just say I pushed my way through?’ A glimmer of humour in the soft brown eyes, contrasting with the dark shadows beneath them.

  The receptionist giggled, a little nervously. ‘I’m not sure that would be all that believable.’ Surreptitiously she indicated the two large security men.

  ‘I’m a black belt in Karate?’ Nick suggested, smiling in an attempt to hide his increasing frustration and desperation.

  The woman thought for a moment. ‘Let me try something, but I can’t guarantee anything.’

  A short while later, Nick stepped out of the lift onto thick, expensive carpet. From here, the level he had been directed to split to the left and the right. To the left was a large boardroom with glass walls. He looked back the other way and saw a woman, older than the last, with a posture that said friendly but efficient, sitting at a desk, evidently waiting for him. Nick moved silently on the soft carpet, the thud of his heart drowning out the faint classical music playing from unseen speakers.

  ‘Good morning. Mr Webster, I presume?’

  ‘Good morning. Yes, it is.’

  ‘My name is Janet Haynes. I’m Mr Thorne-Smith’s personal assistant. Firstly, I want you to know that it’s highly irregular that you have even been allowed up here without an appointment, but Amanda is new and not quite used to the system yet. Secondly—’

  Nick interrupted her. ‘Please don’t take it out on her. I didn’t mean for her to get into any trouble.’

  ‘Well! Chivalrous to boot. I’ll have to tell her to add that to her list.’ The woman was smiling.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Young Amanda rang up to tell me that she had just sent up a gorgeous man, tall, dark with an Australian accent, and a sexy smile. I’m assuming that’s you. She obviously didn’t see your gallant side.’

  Nick half smiled. The woman was teasing him.

  ‘Oh, I’m not all that gallant,’ he replied, thinking of the words he had thrown at Hero months ago now.

  ‘Is that so? It’s only fair to tell you that I’ve been doing this job for far too long for your charms to have the same effect on me as they did on my young colleague. I enjoy my job here. I’d like to keep it.’ She looked back up at the visitor. He didn’t look affronted by her remark, just tired. Very, very tired.

  ‘I completely understand that, but I do really need to see Rupert. I mean Mr Thorne-Smith. It’s extremely important.’

  Wasn’t it always?

  ‘Which company are you from?’ The man’s appearance and manner of dress was unlike anyone her boss normally held meetings with.

  ‘I’m not here from a company. I’m here to see him on a personal matter.’

  ‘I see. Can I ask the nature of this matter?’

  Nick regarded the woman for a moment. Without telling her, he knew there was no chance of progressing any further.

  ‘It’s regarding Hero Scott.’ Nick saw the shutters slam down, the friendly tone disappearing completely.

  ‘I’m afraid we
cannot help you in that matter. Now, I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave. I really don’t wish to have to call security.’

  Nick blinked at her. Realisation dawned. She thought he was some sort of paparazzo. ‘I’m not a reporter.’

  ‘No. Of course you’re not,’ she replied flatly, meeting his eyes.

  ‘I promise. I’m really not. My name is Nick Webster. My brother is married to Hero’s sister, Juliet. Hero’s been living out on the station with us.’ Janet watched as the Australian paused to take a breath and ran his fingers through the already untidy brown hair. ‘She left seven months ago and I really need to find her. Please.’

  ‘Nick Webster, did you say?’

  Nick nodded, and the PA rustled through some notes on her desk. She pulled one out.

  ‘You left a message on the answerphone.’

  ‘Yes. But he didn’t return my call. I couldn’t wait, so I came over.’

  ‘Mr Thorne-Smith has been in New York on business. He’s due back in today.’

  ‘Oh.’ He looked back at the woman. ‘Does he know where Hero is?’

  Her tone was a little friendlier again now, but she remained professional. ‘I’m afraid I really couldn’t tell you that.’ She paused for a moment as a cold fear washed over her. ‘Is there something wrong? Her sister?’

  ‘No.’ Nick smiled, trying to reassure her. ‘Everybody’s fine.’ Except me.

  ‘Rupert’s due in shortly. I will tell him you’re here, but I can’t guarantee that he’ll see you. If he chooses not to, there’s nothing more I can do.’

  ‘No, I understand. Thank you.’

  ‘Why don’t you sit down? Would you like a coffee, hot chocolate? You look absolutely frozen.’

  ‘No. I’m fine. Thanks.’ Nick still felt like ice, despite the warmth of the office. A hot drink would probably help but he was so nervous, so desperate for this to work, that the thought of food or drink made him feel sick. He stepped back, perching on the edge of a modern-looking sofa. It wasn’t very comfortable but it was stylish and he guessed that was its purpose. The PA was busy typing something.

  ‘Can I ask you something else?’

  Janet stopped typing and smiled. ‘You can ask.’

  ‘Do you know if Hero went with him to New York? I mean are they … is she …’ Nick rubbed his brow, struggling against jet lag, exhaustion, and plain desperation.

  Normally Janet would never even consider answering such a personal question concerning her boss but the pain in this man’s eyes was so clear, she decided to bend her rule. Just this once.

  ‘Yes, I do know. And no, she didn’t. And, as far as I’m aware, assuming I understand what it is you’re asking, no. But, again, only as far as I’m aware.’

  Nick nodded. ‘OK. Thank you.’ Now, Nick just had to hope she was right.

  Nick was gazing blankly out of the window, looking down on the world below, watching the traffic, the people, the signs, but he wasn’t really seeing any of it. Janet occasionally stole glances at the visitor. He looked dead on his feet, but she guessed there was no way he would leave without seeing her boss. Janet knew that Rupert knew where Hero was, although he’d not shared the information with her. Or anyone. So whether he’d surrender it to this man was anyone’s guess. She didn’t like his chances much. Rupert had always been fiercely protective when it came to Hero Scott.

  The lift pinged softly causing both Janet and the visitor to look up. A man strode confidently into view. Nick waited. He had no idea what Rupert looked like. In his overwrought state, he hadn’t even thought to Google him.

  ‘Hello Janet. How are you?’

  ‘Fine thank you, Rupert.’ From the corner of her eye, she saw the visitor bounce to his feet, his face apprehensive. ‘Did you have a good trip?’

  ‘Yes, very good thanks,’ he replied, smiling warmly as he took the messages his PA handed him, and began walking towards his office.

  ‘Mr Thorne-Smith?’

  Rupert turned and looked at the man who had spoken. He’d ignored him previously, knowing Janet had kept his own diary clear today, as he’d requested her to. Hero’s taxi was dropping her back here later and they were going to order Chinese when he hoped she was finally going to tell him what decisions she’d apparently made whilst soaking up the sun in the Maldives.

  ‘That would be me.’ His expression was half smile, half frown. There was something familiar about the man, but he couldn’t place him. Rupert glanced over to Janet. She opened her mouth, but Nick jumped in.

  ‘My name is Nick Webster. I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment, but I need to talk to you urgently.’

  ‘Nick Webster?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Rupert nodded. ‘Then you’d better come in.’

  Rupert showed Nick into his office, indicating for him to take a seat as he poured two coffees from the pot that Janet always started for him, before handing one to Nick.

  ‘No than—’

  Rupert motioned for him to take it. ‘It’ll help warm you up. You look frozen to the bone.’

  Nick took the bone china mug and sipped the hot liquid, feeling it burn down into his throat and chest.

  ‘Better?’

  It was. ‘Yes. Thanks.’

  Rupert took a sip from his own mug, booting up his laptop at the same time. He looked across at Nick.

  ‘So, what is it that you think I can do for you, Mr Webster?’

  ‘I need to know where Hero is. I don’t know who else to ask.’

  ‘She’s been back for months. Why now?’

  ‘I didn’t know where to look before. A friend of mine found your business card the other day which is when I called.’

  ‘Is this the friend that was with Hero when I ran into her in Adelaide?’

  ‘Yes. Paul Sullivan.’

  ‘The same friend you accused Hero of sleeping with and whom you subsequently punched?’ Rupert raised an enquiring eyebrow as he took another sip of his coffee.

  Nick’s shoulders slumped. Why had he thought Rupert would tell him where Hero was? Rupert was Hero’s closest friend and Nick had hurt her. What had ever possessed him to believe that he’d help him find her?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I see.’

  Nick’s voice was hoarse with tiredness and emotion. ‘Please. I just need to talk to her.’

  Rupert studied his visitor. So here was the man that had finally unlocked Hero Scott’s heart – and then shattered it. There were photographs of them all together in Hero’s cottage, but he looked so different today. That was why Rupert had struggled to place him. It was as though all the energy had been sucked out of him. Nick’s eyes held the same expression as Hero’s had done ever since she came back. Pain, hurt, but most of all, emptiness.

  ‘Where are you staying?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Which hotel?’

  ‘I, erm, I haven’t really …’ He drifted off. Was Rupert going to tell him where Hero was or not? ‘I came straight here off the plane.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that explains a few things.’ Rupert cast an eye over Nick and smiled. He pulled a desk drawer open and reached into it, lifting out a small key ring with two keys attached which he handed to Nick.

  ‘Here. We have a corporate apartment for clients when they visit. It’s vacant at the moment. I’ll ask Janet to call you a taxi to take you there. Just announce to the concierge that you are with Thorne-Smith Holdings. Janet will tell them to expect you.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Just go and get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll talk more then.’

  Nick squinted for a moment, rubbing his hand across his forehead. ‘Are you going to help me?’

  Rupert looked back evenly. ‘Mr Webster—’

  ‘Nick.’

  ‘Very well. Nick. Firstly, you broke her heart. Hero is the most loyal person you could ever hope to meet. Despite her previous career, she is painfully shy, it takes a long time to really know her, but I guess you already discovered tha
t. Her trust isn’t easily won. You won it and you lost it. I don’t like that you hurt her. Hero is very special to me.’

  Nick felt his blood turn to ice. Were they together? Had his PA been mistaken?

  ‘But I also saw her before this all happened, at the function in Adelaide. I’ve never seen her so happy. And that too was because of you. For that reason alone I will tell her that you wish to see her, but I make no promises to you. If she says no, I won’t side with you. My loyalty is to Hero. I hope you understand that.’

  ‘I do.’

  Nick stood and for the first time since Rupert had met him, there was something else in the other man’s eyes. Hope.

  ‘When will you ask her?’

  ‘When she gets back.’

  ‘Back?’

  ‘Yes. She’s on holiday. I told her to get some sun.’ Rupert smiled and raised his eyebrows. ‘Amazingly, she actually took my advice!’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  The disappointment on Webster’s face was almost painful. Oh dear, these two really did have it bad.

  ‘Cheer up. She’ll be back in a couple of days and then we’ll see. In the meantime, why don’t you go back to the apartment and get some sleep?’

  True to Rupert’s word, the concierge at the apartment building was expecting a Thorne-Smith guest and directed Nick to the correct floor. Nick fished out the keys, unlocked the door, and stepped into a modern, spacious luxury apartment, decorated throughout in neutral tones. Two pale, squashy sofas took pride of place in the living-room area, one of which faced the huge window that gave out onto a sweeping vista of the capital. Nick wandered around slowly. On the opposite side of the room from the sofas, a dining area with blonde wood chairs upholstered in the same cream fabric as the other furniture. He moved on to the other rooms. There were two bedrooms, furnished in the same pale, neutral colours. Nick dropped his bag in the closest one. The main bathroom was white and slate grey marble with a pile of thick fluffy towels stacked neatly on white ladder shelving.

 

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