by Brenda Joyce
Kait tried to tell herself that the note wouldn’t mean anything to anyone—she herself had often written down where she’d parked a car in a huge lot, after one day totally forgetting the spot in a discount outlet mall. But her attempt to smooth over the situation failed. Nobody wrote down their own license plate number as if they did not know their own car.
Numbly, she reached for her wallet, thinking that maybe the person who had taken and then returned her purse hadn’t even seen the note. All of her credit cards—that is, all of Lana’s credit cards—were there. So was Lana’s driver’s license. But the hundred dollars in cash that she had traveled with was gone.
She sat down on the bed, hard, eyes closing, flooded with relief.
It had been a simple robbery, nothing more.
It hadn’t had anything to do with the switch.
She opened her eyes and felt like laughing out loud—so she did. God, her nerves were on end and she was simply paranoid and over-reacting to every little thing. Then she sobered. That did not change the fact that she had been expecting an entirely different kind of welcome at Fox Hollow.
Very grim now, Kait hated facing a comprehension that seemed inescapable. Lana had clearly alienated her husband, not to mention the housekeeper and that odd fellow, Max Zara. Nor did she seem to have a close or warm relationship with her own daughter. Kait was no fool. Marni had been anxious and worried when she had first been with her, and she had expected to be yelled at for her accident with the milk.
If only Lana had clued her in. But Lana had led her to believe that she had a wonderful and perfect family life.
Instantly, Kait realized that wasn’t fair. Lana really hadn’t said anything about her life at Fox Hollow. Kait had assumed that she lived a Disney kind of existence. She had assumed that her sister had everything a woman could possibly want—a perfect love, a perfect life.
Kait loved her sister. She had envied and admired her forever. Secretly, she had always wished that she were the popular one, the brave and fearless one, the sexy and flamboyant one. But she wasn’t twelve anymore, or fifteen, or seventeen. She’d had her own share of life experiences, some good, some pretty bad. Life was never black-and-white and Kait had learned that as she matured. She found herself really thinking about her sister’s nature then. Lana had always been an extrovert, but it was more than that. She was very passionate, and she had always been drawn to excitement and thrills. Which was why she was not comfortable staying at home. She had to be on a motorcycle racing around a dirt course, or a horse facing four- and five-foot fences that only the professionals attempted. She’d skydived, and Kait would bet her life that she’d bungee-jumped, too. Given her very nature, how could she not live life to its fullest? But in pursuit of her wild dreams, in pursuit of thrills and chills, she could also be insensitive and thoughtless at times.
She wasn’t a bad person. In fact, Kait still admired her immensely. No one had her courage. But, like everyone, she had her flaws. She simply wasn’t perfect. And clearly, she hadn’t done the best job as a wife or mother.
Kait would never wish a situation like the current one on her sister, but as it did exist, she hoped that Corelli’s threats might make Lana appreciate all that she had a bit more.
And hadn’t Lana done the most selfless thing in borrowing money from a man who had to be a loan shark in order to save Fox Hollow? Didn’t that mean that she truly cared about Trev?
Marni came out of the bathroom, smiling proudly. “I put everything away,” she said. “Come see, Mommy!”
Kait swallowed. But there was no excuse for failing to watch Marni ride, for rarely picking her up at school, for having an anxious and emotionally needy child. “Thank you.” Kait smiled back, a rush of warmth overcoming her. She realized that she had fallen in love with her niece. But who wouldn’t? “Let’s see how you did,” she said, jumping up and following the proud little girl into the walk-in closet.
She thought about Lana again. She would not be the first woman to be jilted by her husband, and perhaps Elizabeth’s hostility was a result of her taking sides in a bitter divorce. If it were at all possible, tonight she and Lana would have a huge talk. Surely Lana would not agree to this divorce, surely she intended to fight for her marriage. If not, Kait intended to convince her to do so. She felt like pounding her sister on both ears, as if that might pound some sense into her so she might wake up. She had a beautiful home, a fabulous lifestyle, and the most adorable child in the world. Not to mention a to-die-for, sexy husband. How could she be so careless with such precious gifts?
“See? I hung up your suit and put the pajamas away, too.” Marni cut into her thoughts.
“What a great job!” Kait cried, bending to hug her again.
Marni flushed with pleasure. “You smell so good.”
Kait blinked at her. She had chosen not to wear any scent, because she favored soft, slightly sweet perfumes, and Lana had left Dolce & Gabbana in her purse, which was too heady and strong for Kait’s taste. “I forgot my perfume; you must be smelling tea rose soap, sweetie,” Kait said.
“I like it,” Marni announced. “Can we do more packing?”
Kait smiled and pulled her close. “I think we’re about finished,” she said.
At precisely four o’clock, Kait and Marni were at the stables, Marni as cute as a button in her riding breeches and jodhpur boots. Kait had found a pair of paddock boots in Lana’s closet, boots that had clearly never been worn. But she already guessed that her sister dressed to a T when she rode, unfortunately.
Kait wisely let Marni lead the way. The largest barn, she learned, had two dozen stalls and an indoor arena, and that was where she found herself. Trev stood in the aisle, in a navy blue polo shirt, tight tan breeches, and high field boots, the handsome snow-white pony already tacked and in the cross-ties. An older man was beside him. Kait recognized the pony from the photos on Trev’s desk. A big, handsome bay gelding with four white socks and a star was also in the cross-ties; clearly, he was Trev’s mount. Both men turned as they approached.
Kait was flooded with a tension she refused to identify. Trev’s eyes were on her—she quickly looked away. But not before wondering why he wasn’t an advertisement for Ralph Lauren.
“Hello, Lana,” the older man said with a warm smile. He had a male rider’s lean, wiry build. “How was your trip to the Big Apple?”
Kait was so surprised by this warm greeting that she could hardly speak. Then, “Fine.”
“Been working Pride so he won’t get too hot on you,” the man continued. “He should be pretty steady when we work tomorrow.”
It took Kait a quick second to realize that Pride was Lana’s mount, and that she was expected to school with this man, who had to be the trainer. Lana had omitted all details of her equestrian life in her letter. She smiled, her lips feeling frozen. She knew she was not half the rider that her sister was. Lana had undoubtedly chosen not to mention her training, for fear of scaring Kait.
“Jim, I helped Mommy unpack,” Marni announced proudly.
“Now did you?” The white-haired fellow grinned. “I hear your daddy’s taking you for a bit of a cross-country ride today.” He un-snapped the two leads and took off the pony’s halter, slipping on his bridle.
“Daddy? Mommy wants to see me ride. Can’t we school in the ring?” Marni pleaded.
Trev had untied his bay. He smiled at Marni, and did not look at Kait. “We’ll warm up in the indoor,” he said. “And your mother can watch you there.”
A few moments later, Kait was hanging on the rail as Trev and Marni rode side by side at a walk. As she watched her niece, who had a beautiful seat even at the age of four, it struck her that there was no place she would rather be than exactly where she was, at Fox Hollow, hanging on to the gate of the indoor arena, surrounded by horses, their scent heavy and thick, while watching Marni ride with her father.
Her heart skipped again as her gaze settled on Trev Coleman. Trev, like most professionals, did not wear a helme
t. That disturbed her, for she knew that even the most experienced rider could have a serious accident at any time, as even the most predictable horses could spook. Most men could not carry off breeches and high boots. They either didn’t have the body for it, or were made effeminate in such attire. Not so with Coleman. Even astride, he reeked masculinity and male strength.
Kait forced her eyes to Marni. Her cheeks felt hot.
“Ready for a little trot?” she heard Trev ask.
Marni nodded.
Kait watched them both move into a rising trot, Trev keeping his mount at an unbearably slow pace to accommodate the pony’s shorter stride. “Your reins are too long,” he said. “Pick them up, sweetheart.”
Marni did. Kait’s heart swelled with pride. What four-year-old could post like that? She was working a bit hard, but then a four-year-old child simply did not have the developed musculature of an older child. She murmured unthinkingly, “When did he start her?”
Jim turned. “I beg your pardon?”
“When did...” Kait stopped. She felt herself flush. Lana would know when Marni had first mounted a horse. “I can’t remember when he first got her trotting so beautifully,” she said lamely.
“She’s been working at it really hard for the past few months. Her post just started coming together before you left,” he said. “You all right? You seem different, Lana.”
She faced him. “Actually, I was really sick in New York. I had the flu, and I dropped quite a few pounds very quickly. I’m still a bit shaky,” she said. She was certainly going to have a relapse, as she couldn’t possibly pretend to be Lana on a horse with her trainer—or Trev— watching.
His face fell. “Yes, well, I’m sorry to hear that. Take whatever time you need, Lana.”
“I don’t think I have a choice,” she said.
He held her gaze, as if trying to read past her words, and he nodded.
Kait managed to bite back a huge sigh of relief. She was off the hook, for now.
Kait wandered across the lawns behind the house. Marni and Trev had taken off for their hack and she felt as if a weight had just been lifted off her shoulders. She realized that her temples throbbed from the stress of her arrival at Fox Hollow, and all that had followed. Kait stared up at the house, which remained a magnificent sight. This was a respite, she decided, that she had better enjoy.
And it was also the perfect time to call Lana. Maybe this time she’d pick up her cell phone—if she was even carrying it with her.
Kait glanced around. The barns were behind her and to her right, the house ahead and to the left, on the rise of the hill. Directly ahead the pastures swept away toward rolling hills and the horizon. Fall had overcome the countryside with spectacular vengeance, and every oak and elm was turning gloriously gold, red, and orange.
She was alone. No one was in sight, and no one could be watching. Kait dug her cell phone out of her front trouser pocket, quickly dialing. She was dismayed when she got her own voice mail.
Kait hesitated, then wondered if Lana might reprogram the code to retrieve messages. It was a long shot. “It’s me,” she said, looking around carefully. “You have to call me, ASAP. It’s urgent! Leave a message with a time that you will reach me on my—your—cell and I will be waiting for your call.” She hesitated, suddenly glancing up at the back of the house. But who would bother to lurk about in one of the windows, in order to spy upon her? She became uneasy. “Things are not going well here,” she said tersely. “I have to talk to you.” She hung up, staring at the house again, then quickly redialed the number, this time leaving a numeric message—her call-back number. Surely that would get her sister’s attention.
She glanced at the house one more time, now slipping the phone back into her pocket. If someone was watching from the house, it was impossible for her to see. Kait decided she was being paranoid once again. She turned her back on the house and plopped down in the grass, not far from a huge old elm tree. The beauty of the autumn day and of Fox Hollow washed over her then. She would try to call Lana again, later. Kait wondered what Lana would have to say for herself when they finally spoke. The one thing Kait was sure of was that Lana would not give up Marni without a bitter fight.
Kait closed her eyes and instantly Trev Coleman’s image assailed her. It stiffened her relaxed body immediately. In two days, he would be told the truth of who she was. She suddenly realized that, considering how he despised his wife now, he was going to despise her as well. After all, she was Lana’s twin, and she had thrust this huge deception, this huge lie, upon him.
Kait sat up, more than disturbed, hugging her knees to herself. She did not want Trev Coleman to hate her. Not now, and not ever.
Because he was Marni’s father, because he was her brother-in-law, because they were also her family now, or they would be, after Lana returned and they told everyone the truth.
He was going to be very angry with both Lana and her. Kait simply knew it. And knowing that, she did not know what to do.
This entire scheme was a terrible idea. Why hadn’t Lana gone to the police?
That in itself made no sense.
And the fact that someone was out there, in her past, who might help her pay off this loan shark also made little sense. Who could that person be?
Kait didn’t want to analyze her sister’s predicament now. It had sounded odd the moment she read the letter, but with Lana’s life being in danger—and Marni’s—there was no arguing with what Lana had decided to do.
Kait flopped back on her back. How to smooth things over with Trev Coleman—now and after they told him the truth? Her anxiety knew no bounds. She wanted to relax and enjoy the autumn afternoon, but how could she? The scent of horses was faint now, the scent of autumn strong. And it was heaven, being there. She sighed, then inhaled deeply, staring up at the sky. A flock of geese appeared, heading south. She watched them for a long time, until they disappeared from sight.
This was the kind of place no one in their right mind would ever want to leave.
Impulsively, she sat, unlaced her boots, and took off her socks and shoes. She lay back down, staring at the sky through the elm’s leafy orange canopy, images of Trev and Marni dancing in her mind.
She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke it was dark.
Kait rushed to her feet, unable to believe she had fallen so soundly asleep—and for so long. She grabbed her boots, plunging her feet into them sockless. Socks in hand, she rushed up the hill. The back door on the veranda was not locked, and she slipped into the living room.
One light was on. There was also a pair of lit wall sconces in the entry on either side of the front door. But otherwise, the house was in shadow, and it was so quiet that Kait had the distinct feeling that she was alone. Where was everybody?
And why did the idea of being alone cause her to feel alarmed? She hurried through a formal dining room with a trestle table and studded leather-backed chairs. The kitchen had one light on as well. She found and hit a wall switch. It became brilliantly illuminated.
A quick glance at the clock on the oven-microwave unit told her it was almost half past seven. Where was everyone? And why wasn’t dinner on the stove—or in the oven?
Her stomach growled madly. The only thing she had eaten all day was two chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk.
Kait left the lights on and hurried into the main portion of the house. As she did so, she glanced down the hall toward Trev’s study, but the door was wide open, the room dark—he wasn’t there. She paused by the stairs and strained to hear. She thought, but wasn’t sure, she heard the sound of a television.
“Hello? Anyone home?” she called.
There was no answer. Kait started up the stairs carefully, which were unlit. The sound of a sitcom with canned laughter became clearer. She relaxed slightly. She hadn’t met Trev’s daughter from his first marriage, and undoubtedly Sam was in her room watching TV.
Kait followed the sound to the second d
oor on the hall. The volume on the television was high. She knocked. There was no answer, so she tried again. Finally she opened the door a bit and poked her head in.
Sam sat at her desk, doing homework. She was a tall, thin girl with a cascade of iron-straight blond hair spilling down her back. She was wearing a black T-shirt and a short camouflage vest and a pair of jeans with a heavy studded belt. The television was on, but it faced her bed at the other end of the room. Sam clearly wasn’t even listening to it— she had on a pair of headphones, and as she wrote in her notebook, her head was bopping to the music. “Sam?” Kait tried.
When Sam didn’t even move, Kait crossed the room and turned the volume way down. Then she walked over to the teenager and tapped her on the shoulder.
Sam whirled, but did not stand. “What are you doing?!” she cried. Kait smiled. She now noticed three hoops in one ear. “Hi! How are you?” she tried.
Sam blinked and did not smile back. Her expression was sullen as she removed the headphones. “What?” Then she looked at Kait’s hair. “You cut your hair. It sucks.”
Kait recoiled, shocked.
“I’m doing homework,” she said sourly. She turned back to her notebook, giving Kait her back.
Kait remained stunned. So Lana had another enemy in the house. It simply didn’t seem possible, but the evidence was right before her eyes. She tapped her on the shoulder again. “So I noticed. I just wanted to say hi.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Sam leaned back in her chair warily, facing her now.
“No, I am not kidding,” Kait said firmly. And it flashed through her mind that this was too much—it had to end now. There were fences that needed mending. Four that she could count, if she wanted to include Max Zara.
“Well, you said hi, so, good-bye.” She turned rudely, hunching over her open textbook.
