She stopped as if she’d said too much.
“Of course he does. You’re still newlyweds.”
“It feels as if we are,” Amelia admitted happily. “And truthfully I don’t want it ever to end. You should try it.”
Wasn’t that a touchy subject? She couldn’t talk about finding Prince Charming with Chase in the barn with her.
As if Amelia understood something was going on, she asked, “So you can’t talk freely?”
“Not now.”
“Okay, so you don’t have any privacy, and I know you probably have a bunch of international calls coming in later with regards to your trip.”
Lucie had almost forgotten about those. She checked her watch. She had told contacts who were donating supplies to call her after eight tonight. Or was it nine? Chase had her so rattled. The whole situation had her rattled. This wasn’t like her at all.
“Have you heard from Mum?” Amelia asked.
“Not since last week. And now she’s traveling in an area with no cell phone connection. Did she tell you about that?”
“Yes, she did. When I spoke with her last, she seemed to be in her element again. She loves the work...just as you do.”
Lucie’s life had been about helping orphaned children. But had she chosen the work for the right reasons? Or because her mother had needed her to be just as involved as she herself was? The orphanages had become a passion project after her husband died.
Now she wanted to tell her mother about her marriage to Chase. She wanted to prepare her in case news of it got out.
“Text me when you’re free,” Amelia went on. We’ll have that talk. We can video-chat.”
“I’ll text soon. Give Clementine a kiss for me.”
“Will do.”
After Lucie ended the call, her gaze found Chase. He was over at the loft looking up, maybe deciding what he wanted to do with it. He was acting all casual, as if he hadn’t been listening.
But as he turned to Lucie, he asked, “So I’m a friend now?”
He’d obviously heard her conversation with Amelia. Suddenly frustrated with the whole situation, Lucie blew out a breath. In a fit of unusual pique, she said, “I don’t know what you are. We’re in a kind of limbo. We want to live in the now, but the past is interfering. Yet we can’t resurrect the past—”
Apparently Chase believed the simplest thing to do to get her to stop thinking was to encourage her to stop talking. She noticed a moment of doubt in his eyes. Then suddenly his arm was around her, his hand on the small of her back, urging her closer. His gaze never left hers.
First she felt surprise, swiftly followed by anticipation. Would a kiss be as explosive as it had been ten years ago?
There was only one way to find out. She let it happen.
Chase’s lips covered hers before she could second-guess her decision.
* * *
In his adult years, Chase had prided himself on his self-control. But kissing Lucie almost destroyed it. It was the scent of her, the softness of her, the feel of her in his arms again. He wasn’t thinking about the past or the future as his tongue breached her lips, and he took the kiss deeper, wetter, more intense. The fire was still there—fire that burned away any reservations, fire that had urged him to propose to her. The main reason...she’d been a virgin. Now, when she gripped his shoulders and he felt the sweet clutch of her fingers, his desire ramped up until it was almost dizzying.
Nevertheless, as quickly as it had started, it ended. Lucie broke away, brought her hands to his chest and put a foot between them. When he gazed into her eyes, he saw she was reeling from the kiss, too. Past dreams had been resurrected just for an instant. However, reality had rushed in, and he could see her good sense was telling her to run. That was exactly what she did, if not literally, figuratively.
He heard her swallow hard. He heard her deep intake of breath. He needed a swig of air himself. He needed to calm sensations that he’d forgotten.
She said, “I have to go. Can you take me back to my apartment? I have incoming international calls that I’m expecting tonight, and I can’t be late.”
He couldn’t help asking wryly, “Isn’t that what cell phones are for?”
“They’ll be coming in on the landline,” she informed him. “I want to make sure my conversations aren’t cut off.”
Sure she did. She was doing important work. She’d be leaving in a month to build another orphanage. She probably had suppliers to talk to, directors to engage, donors and sponsors to extract money from. And she was telling him in a not-so-subtle way that that kiss had changed nothing, that the past was in the past, that their lives were very different and separate now.
“Let’s go,” he said, motioning to the barn door. “I’ll have you back in no time at all.”
And he did. They drove in silence, and when she climbed out in the parking garage, she said, “Goodbye, Chase.”
He watched her walk to the elevator bank. He watched her nod to the security guard, then disappear inside, regretting every word they hadn’t spoken, regretting the fact that Lucie’s life was headed in one direction and his was headed in another.
* * *
The walnut-paneled study at the Silver Spur Ranch was the perfect place for Lucie’s meeting with Kate Fortune the following day. Lucie studied this icon, who had recently turned ninety, as she sat in a huge leather chair that seemed to swallow her up. Kate had ended up in the hospital recently and was still recovering, but she looked at least ten years younger than her age, maybe more. She had more wealth than anybody could make use of, thanks to the success of the Fortune Youth Serum, which she’d discovered and perfected in the ’90s. She was a walking advertisement for the efficacy of the product. But the future of her company was on her mind and she was looking for the right person to run it. For some reason, the two of them had seemed to connect at Kate’s birthday party and Lucie had accepted this invitation to coffee, glad to see this remarkable woman again.
“How are you feeling?” Lucie asked.
Kate waved her hand. “Better each day. As you know, I’m still looking for the right Fortune to work at my company. I can’t seem to find someone with all the attributes that are necessary, though the family tree does seem to be growing.”
Kate motioned to the coffee and pastries that a butler had set up on a tray near them both. “Eat, my dear. You’re much too thin.”
Lucie did eat, and she was fortunate that she didn’t seem to put on pounds because of it. She picked up a petite cherry Danish and took a bite. “What about you? Are you going to have some?”
“I have to watch everything these days—sugar, cholesterol, caffeine. I suppose it all matters. This morning I’m just going to enjoy your indulgence in the pastries. Tell me what you think about Ben Robinson’s claim that his father is a Fortune.”
“Could it be true?” Lucie asked, unsure how to answer.
“Anything can be true, I suppose,” Kate mused.
“I had brunch with Ella and Viv,” Lucie said. “They both seem very happy. Ben and Wes both are their Prince Charmings.”
“Prince Charming is one thing, a Fortune is another,” Kate proclaimed. “Ben can be very bold, as he proved at my party, but I believe he’s sincere. I’ve tried to contact his father since I’ve been out of the hospital to verify Ben’s claim that his father is Jerome Fortune. But Gerald Robinson hasn’t returned any of my calls or my emails. Ben might claim his father is Jerome Fortune, but the man doesn’t seem eager to prove it. His children deserve to know the truth, and so do I.”
“They also want to find any half siblings they might have,” Lucie explained.
“You’re the one who connected Ben with Keaton Whitfield, correct?”
“Yes. I happened to know Keaton. It was amazing, really, that Keaton confirmed to Ben that Geral
d Robinson is his father, too.” Keaton and Ben were now working together to uncover other possible blood relatives that Gerald might have sired. The Fortune family was complicated and messy, and if Gerald Robinson was truly Jerome Fortune, Kate would have a lot to sort out.
“I know what you’re thinking, my dear—that maybe finding family and trying to control my legacy might just be too complicated for someone my age.”
“I’m not thinking that at all,” Lucie protested. “Maybe I would be thinking that if you were the type of woman who sat in a parlor with an afghan covering your lap, knitting all day.” She waved to the study with the computer, the printer, and the state-of-the-art smart TV for video-conferencing. “But you’re not that type of woman. You like to be in charge. You like to know what’s happening. You want to have a finger on what happens after you leave. I think you’re up to the task.”
Kate laughed. “I’m glad to see someone’s on my side.”
“I’m sure lots of people are.”
“I’ve been reading more about how you and your mother work together to build orphanages and provide schooling for children who don’t even have the necessities. Emmett Jamison, the head of the Fortune Foundation, told me you’re hunting for office space to open a branch of the foundation in Austin. How is the hunt for space progressing?”
“I’ve seen a few possibilities. Probably the best strategy is to tap into programs that are already running. If we set up the office, then on-site events for kids can be anywhere. For instance, if there’s a sports program that needs funding, we can do that. If there is a music therapist involved in community action, we can help her find space and a place to teach. We could also help provide college scholarships for girls interested in science.”
“Emmett told me you’d put a lot of thought into this. It will be a remarkable undertaking.”
“We would have an Austin Fortune Foundation Central, so to speak,” Lucie concluded. “Then all the outreach programs would be like satellites.”
“That sounds practical,” Kate agreed. “Any program that is worthwhile can apply.”
Kate gave Lucie a sly smile. “I have no doubt you’re capable of getting this ball rolling. But I have been wondering something.”
“What’s that?”
“You travel the world with your mother helping others, but that doesn’t leave much time for a personal life, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Do you ever intend to marry?”
Lucie didn’t know how to answer that honestly, because the truth was, she was already married!
When Lucie seemed stumped for an answer, Kate went on. “It’s none of my business, of course. Charitable work is wonderful. But you know, don’t you, it can’t replace the love of a husband and family.”
Lucie wondered if Kate was right. On the other hand, though, her mother had had both during her second marriage, as well as now, though now she spent more time and intensity doing her charity work. Lucie realized she would never want to give up helping children, even if she had a husband and her own family.
If she had her own.
Just what kind of father might Chase Parker be?
She pushed that thought out of her head.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” she asked Kate. “It’s a beautiful day outside.”
“A change of subject is in order, huh?” Kate smiled. “Sure. Let’s go for that walk. You can tell me about your sister Amelia and all about Horseback Hollow. You can also regale me with stories about how your royal life is different from mine.”
Lucie laughed. “You are a royal, Kate Fortune, and you know it.”
Kate gave a slight nod, agreeing.
* * *
Chase’s workday had seemed long and tedious for several reasons. Soon he had to tell his father his plans and was trying to figure out how to do that. His dad was away in Galveston meeting with cronies, checking on a branch of their office there. But when he got back, Chase would have to be honest with him. And speaking of being honest, his last encounter with Lucie was heavy on his mind, not to mention that kiss.
So when he got home from Parker Oil, he headed toward the barn. That was his place where he could work off stress, communicate with the horses and chill. At least that was what he hoped. After a quick change into jeans and a T-shirt at the guesthouse, he checked on one of the last horses he’d rescued. The owners had left the property and abandoned him in the pasture. Chase didn’t know how people could be so cruel.
Now he went to the fence and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Dusty, a chestnut, loped toward the fence and eyed Chase.
“Well, at least you come when I call now,” Chase said conversationally.
The horse snorted, pawed at the ground, then turned tail and headed in the other direction.
“Making progress?” a female voice asked from outside the barn door.
Chase turned and saw his mother. She rarely ventured out here. She went on rides now and then, but those were few and far between since his dad had had his stroke. Was she afraid to be away from the ranch house in case he was taken to the hospital again? When he was in the house, did she feel she had to be with him?
“You should ride more often,” Chase said now.
“Do you think I need the exercise?”
“I think you need the escape.”
There were so many subjects they didn’t talk about. There were so many feelings they’d never expressed. That was just the way it had been between him and his parents. Somehow he’d gotten the idea that boys should turn into men like his father—buttoned up, stoic, inflexible. After the Scotland fiasco, he’d rebelled against everything he’d learned as a child. He’d found his own way with work and horses, if not with women. He’d learned what was important to him and how he should feel when he treated others rightly or wrongly. He’d learned there were many shades of gray, and black and white were just illusions that his father and mother lived under. Since his dad’s stroke, all of it had become even clearer to him. All of it had led up to this point.
“You didn’t stop in at the house or text me to let me know you were here.”
“Were you worried?” he asked, really wanting to know.
“No, I suppose not. But you didn’t come over to the house last night either. Is something wrong?”
Whether he liked it or not, his mother could read him. Maybe all mothers were like that. Still, he felt he had to deny it.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“We haven’t heard from Mr. Sylvan yet. There’s so much red tape.”
Mr. Sylvan had been his family’s lawyer for years. He was the one uncoiling the complications with the international law firm.
“You told me that when you met with Lady Fortune Chesterfield, she said she wants this dissolution as much as you do.”
He thought about breakfast with Lucie, as well as kissing her. He’d seen the resolution and commitment in her eyes when she asked him to take her back to her apartment. “Yes, she wants the annulment. She wants to get on with her life, too, a very public life. She was even engaged under the glare of the media. Imagine how it will look if the news of our marriage gets out.”
“You’ve had your picture taken at society events with beautiful women on your arm. The same would be true for you.”
Chase was already shaking his head. “It wouldn’t be the same at all. We mere mortals don’t know what the royals go through.”
“The Chesterfields aren’t exactly royals,” his mother maintained.
“That all depends on the way you look at it. The way Lucie tells it, her mother was first married to a man who was an earl. Lucie’s father, Simon Chesterfield, was knighted for his service in the RAF and gained the title of “sir.” He was also as wealthy as Dad is. So her family is in the royal public
eye. We don’t have paparazzi on our property every other day or even once a week. Once in a while someone wants to do a story on us, like Norton Wilcox, who set up the interview with me about horse rescue. But if I had said no, he would have accepted that for now. It’s not that way for Lucie. The press actually hounds her family. They even follow her. And if they’re on public property, there’s nothing she can do about it.”
“So you’ve talked about this?” his mother asked.
“Not just talked about it, lived it, in a small way. I took her for breakfast. We went in my truck and she wore a wig and jeans so nobody would recognize her or connect her with me. Right now that’s our big problem—not being able to be associated together. We have to meet up in secret.”
“Why do you have to meet up at all?”
Chase sighed. Why indeed? Ignoring that question, he said, “Mom, there’s something we have to talk about other than Lucie. I was going to tell you and Dad together, but maybe it’s better if I talk to you first.”
His mother’s face looked drawn, the lines around her mouth and eyes cutting deep. She looked almost scared.
“I’ve given the last five years to Dad and I don’t regret any one of them. I don’t regret living here for a while to help take care of him, and I don’t regret being on the property these past few years. I don’t know how much closer it’s brought us, but at least we have the illusion of being together.”
“It isn’t an illusion,” his mother protested heavily. “We are together.”
“Together, Mom, means talking. Together means understanding. Together means compromising to find the best way for everybody.”
“And in your not-so-subtle way, you’re trying to tell me you want to compromise.”
“What I’m telling you is that I’m going to make changes. I’m going to leave the company in the CFO’s capable hands. Jeff is trustworthy, intelligent and knows every aspect of what we do. Dad’s never going to retire, and if he does, he can sell Parker Oil for a hefty profit. He won’t need me to be there.”
“And just what would you be doing? Riding around the great state of Texas, collecting horses that are left on private land?”
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