Perfect Family

by Potter, Patricia;

  And he was fire.

  Irresistible fire.

  His fingers dropped, and he stepped back as if burned himself, as if he found himself doing something he hadn’t wanted to do.

  Her fingers knotted into fists. She remembered the last time, when he was deliberately trying to chase her away, remembered the cold, objective words. She simply could not equate them now with the man who stood there.

  “I only know what you told me,” she said in a late answer to his question. “Alex is to explain everything.”

  “I’m sure Alex will do that very well.”

  “I’m sure he will,” she said. “How is Sarah?”

  He looked surprised. “Fine. Indestructible. She’ll outlive all of us.”

  Alex had said that Sarah didn’t want anyone to know she was ill. Had her son not noticed any changes? Or had there been changes?

  For the briefest of seconds, she wondered if this wasn’t a ploy of Sarah’s. Then she felt guilty at the thought. But there were so many damn undercurrents, so many discordant notes.

  Ross stood there, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there something I should know about Sarah?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve just grown to like her enormously.”

  His lips smiled slightly. “She can be Machiavellian.”

  “I never would have guessed,” she replied.

  His smile broadened. “You recognized it?”

  “Yes.”

  She loved that smile. She’d seen it so rarely.

  Jessie knew now she hadn’t returned simply because of Sarah, and certainly not because of an uncertain inheritance. She had come back to see Ross, to see whether his pull was as real and powerful as she’d believed it to be. She also knew with all her heart that he would never have purposely hurt anyone.

  “Good,” he said. “Be wary of Alex, too.”

  “He likes you. He defended you.”

  He stiffened. “Is that why …?”

  “No,” she said simply. She didn’t have to ask what he meant.

  His gaze seemed to search her face, searching for truth. After a moment, he relaxed slightly. “I’ve known Alex a long time,” he said. “You never know quite where he stands.”

  “I’ll remember that,” she said.

  A muscle flexed in his cheek. “You’d better go see Sarah. She’s been anxious ever since Alex said you were coming.”

  “Will you be here later?”

  “I have work to do.”

  He didn’t move, though, and neither did she. The energy was still wrapped around them, as if they were standing in the eye of a hurricane. They were talking calmly, and yet every word was forced. She wanted to reach out and touch him. She wanted to ask him why he’d mentioned the rape charge. She wanted to know why he’d wanted her to leave.

  The smile had left his lips. “Take care,” he said simply, then turned and walked away to his pickup. Timber followed him, and so did Ben.

  “Ben!”

  He turned back and sat next to her, looking up forlornly. He didn’t want to give up a new friend. Well, she felt the same way. She wanted to follow Ross, but that air of isolation still hovered around him like some ominous cloud.

  Only then did she see Sarah standing on the porch. “Come on, Ben,” she said, and started for the house.

  Sarah looked as elegant as she had the first time Jessie had met her. Her color, though, seemed less … robust. Or was it just the suggestion that her health was not good? Surely Ross would have noticed if there had been any changes. Or do you see them less when you are with someone day after day?

  Sarah held out her hands, and Jessie took them. They felt strong enough.

  “I’m so glad you came back,” she said. “And this must be Ben.”

  “He’s a bit shy,” Jessie said as Ben pressed against her left leg. “Alex said you wouldn’t mind, that he was invited, too.”

  “Of course, he was invited. We used to have a lot of dogs around here, and now there’s only Timber. I miss having more. I’m sure Ben and I will get along very well.” She glanced at her empty hands. “Luggage? You are staying here?”

  “For several days,” Jessie replied. “My bag is in the trunk.”

  “I’ll have Ross bring in your luggage,” Sarah said.

  “No!” Jessie said in a voice sharper than intended. She didn’t want him anywhere near her at the moment. Her reactions to him were too visceral. “I’ll do it,” she said.

  Before Sarah could protest, Jessie was down the porch step, opening the trunk and taking out the suitcase. Setting it down on the rollers, she rejoined Sarah on the porch and followed her inside, wondering whether she was making one of the worst mistakes of her life.

  Her room was upstairs, right over Sarah’s room. Jessie hadn’t seen the upstairs before, and she noticed that the wide hall led to five doors. Her room was large, sunny, and bright. Hardwood floors were covered with a bright Native American rug, and the walls with Southwestern paintings. A huge tester bed dominated the room.

  “When Marc and Samantha are here, they have the rooms down the hall,” Sarah said. “You have a private bath next door. There’s another guest room across the hall, but we rarely use it.”

  She hesitated, then added. “I hope you’ll consider every part of this ranch your home. Use the living room or kitchen whenever you wish.” She reached out and took Jessie’s hand. “Thank you for coming. I know … that we must have overwhelmed you the last time.” She sighed. “We probably shouldn’t have invited you that way, but everyone was so anxious to meet you.”

  Jessie was tired of hearing that. She also doubted whether it was true. Some would have been perfectly happy not to meet her. Including April.

  But instead she told a partial truth. “I had to get home,” she said. “I hadn’t expected to stay any longer than the weekend.”

  “I hope you can stay longer this time.”

  “I want to learn more about my father. I hope you can—will—help me now.” She’d said it. Thrown down a challenge.

  A fleeting emotion, something like dismay, flickered through Sarah’s eyes, but she didn’t let go of Jessie’s hand. “We’ll have a talk later,” she said. “Alex wants to meet with you in the morning. I’ll be glad to come with you if you like.”

  She shook her head. “Ross told me a little about what to expect. He said I would inherit a share of the ranch, and that my vote could control what is done with the Sunset. Is that true?”

  Sarah nodded.

  “I don’t want that kind of power,” Jessie said. “This family owes me nothing. My father surrendered any right to it when he left the ranch.”

  “Not according to the will. My father hoped he would return.”

  “He was still alive then?”

  “Yes. He was nearly eighty then. I think losing two more sons … killed him. He died ten months after Heath died and Harding disappeared. It broke his heart, what was left after Mother died.”

  “Mary Louise?”

  “Yes. She was always the strength of the family. She was so determined to keep the family together, she insisted early on the terms of my father’s will.”

  “When did she die?”

  “Just a few months before my father. She’d been ill, or she might have found a way to prevent …” Sarah stopped abruptly.

  “Prevent what?” Jessie asked impatiently. “Don’t you think it’s time for me to know?”

  Sarah went over to the window and looked out. “For years,” she said with a sigh, “we lived together. My husband was foreman when we were married, and I moved with him into the house Ross has now. Your father and Lori lived in this house, as did Halden and his wife and children.

  “Then Heath came home a year after Lori had married your father. He’d been badly wounded and was in a hospital in England for months.”

  Jessie saw Sarah’s hand tighten on the windowsill. After a moment of strained silence, she continued, “When Heath came home, he was angry and bitter. He didn’t w
ant to work on the ranch. He didn’t want to do anything. He drank and raised hell. One time he almost set the barn on fire, and our father told him to straighten up or get out. He got out. No one heard from him for three years, then he returned home, said he wanted to settle down and take his place in the business. My father was happy. The prodigal had returned.”

  Sarah sat down. Her mouth was grim.

  Jessie waited silently. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

  Finally, Sarah continued wearily. “Harding was happy, too. He’d felt guilty about marrying Lori, but she’d told him that Heath had broken it off.”

  She looked up at Jessie, her eyes begging her to understand. “Heath and Hugh had been your father’s heroes. He worshiped both of them, and when Heath first came home, it was your father who kept making excuses for him. He was so pleased when Heath returned the second time, he was willing to give up his own position on the ranch. But Heath wasn’t home to work. He was home to get money. He wanted Father to sell part of the ranch and give him his share. His share. He didn’t care about the ranch or anyone on it. When Father wouldn’t agree, Heath decided he would take what he felt was due him.

  “He was asked to make delivery of a herd and pick up the money. Instead of bringing it back, he secretly invested it in an offshore oil company started by a war buddy; he’d been promised a partnership if he could come up with some financing.

  “A week later, your father went to the bank to get the payroll—the hands all wanted cash—and discovered that not only was the money from the herd not deposited but most of the funds left in the account had been withdrawn.”

  Sarah leaned against the windowsill. “We knew your father went to the bank. We knew he talked to the manager. That’s the last time anyone saw him. I can only imagine that he tried to find Heath. No one knows what happened then.”

  Jessie’s heart was beating loud. She knew that a major part of the story was not yet told. “And Lori?”

  “She was gone. Her jewelry, some of her clothes. She left a note, saying she was going with Heath.”

  Jessie slowly expelled breath she hadn’t realized was bottled in her throat. She felt tears welling in back of her eyes. Her father. Betrayed by a brother he trusted and a wife he loved. More than life, Sarah had said.

  “Go on,” she said as Sarah faltered, her words dying away.

  “We found a note from Heath saying he was leaving with Lori,” she said, “just as the sheriff came and told us there had been a fire at our Oak Creek cabin. Two bodies had been found there. They identified Heath by his class ring and Lori by her wedding ring. We never saw Harding again.”

  seventeen

  Jessie couldn’t do anything but stare at her, the last words ringing in her head. We never saw Harding again.

  Jessie didn’t ask the question that came to the forefront of her mind. She knew that it had been pricking around before. But now she couldn’t disregard the implications.

  Had her father had anything to do with the fire? She couldn’t force herself to put it any other way. She couldn’t allow herself to consider the word murder.

  But the words didn’t come, and Sarah had looked very tired. For the first time, she looked every year of her age.

  “You’ll have to excuse me,” Sarah said. She had leaned against the wall for a moment, obviously steadying herself. “I think I need some rest.”

  “Of course,” Jessie said, feeling shaky herself.

  “I had hoped we could go for a ride, but perhaps … tomorrow.”

  “I would like that,” Jessie said, wondering whether the older woman would be up to it then, either.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and take a horse,” Sarah said. “Ross can go with you. Supper will be at seven.”

  She started to leave, then stopped at the door. “Thank you for coming, Jessie. You can’t know how much it means to me.”

  Jessie sat down on the bed as the door closed behind Sarah. While she’d known that something terrible must have happened to make her father leave everything he knew and loved, she’d tried to avoid the notion that it was anything he’d done. Now she wasn’t so sure. Could he have had something to do with the fire? With the deaths of his wife and brother?

  She shivered and felt herself crying inside for the young man her father had been. He loved her more than life.

  Betrayed not only by a wife he adored, but also by an older brother he’d made into a hero.

  She realized now why he’d never smiled, why he’d preferred the bottle to life. She only wished that she’d been … more important to him. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to let anyone be that important again.

  Ben whined, and she remembered he hadn’t been for a walk. She took him down the steps to the front and walked him over to the paddock. There were several horses munching grass. None of them paid any attention to either of them. She wondered whether her father used to walk over here and lean over the fence.

  Grief swelled inside her. She felt as if she’d just lost her father. His death was as fresh to her now as it had been the day of the funeral.

  She looked out over the rock formations. It was afternoon; dusk was several hours off.

  She wanted to ride back to the rock formation called the Saddle and look below as she had with Sarah.

  Ross’s pickup was gone. She didn’t know whether Sarah had known that. It didn’t matter, though. In fact, she preferred riding alone at the moment. She had to be alone. She wanted to see the Sunset as her father had seen it.

  Jessie took Ben up to her room. She’d brought his favorite blanket and she placed it on the floor. “I’ll be back soon,” she said. She hated to leave him, but she feared that his thick fur would pick up needles from cactus. Or that he might have a personal encounter with a snake. As long as he had the blanket, he’d know he was safe.

  She changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, pulled on a pair of boots she’d purchased in Atlanta, then reassured Ben once more. She took the steps two at a time, eager now to be on a horse.

  Dan’l was in the stables.

  “Sarah suggested I go for a ride,” she said, fudging the truth only a little. “Can you suggest a horse?”

  “Carefree is fine now,” he offered. “Like to try him again?” Then he hesitated.

  She knew he was thinking of Ross and didn’t want to give him a chance to think about it. “That would be great,” she replied. At least, she would know this time what to expect.

  She watched as he saddled the horse. He offered to help her mount, but she easily swung up into the saddle.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she said. “Before dark.”

  “I’ll come looking for you if you’re not,” he said.

  “Not to worry,” she said, adjusting her body to the saddle. She guided the horse out of the barn and down the road. Carefree didn’t need much urging. In several moments, they were cantering toward the Saddle.

  She felt the breeze against her face, fully aware it was cooling moisture on her cheeks. Her eyes hurt, but the wind was cleansing. She wondered if her father had ever wanted to come back, whether he missed the red rock and the yucca and the junipers.

  Following the route she and Sarah had taken days ago, she rode toward the Saddle and found the path upward without trouble. She guided the horse up the steep trail, letting him do most of the work. This time she knew not to yell whoa, and to hold the reins lightly. Carefree knew what to do far better than she.

  Jessie reached the top and dismounted. She went to where she and Sarah had stood and looked down at the ranch below. She used a hand to wipe a tear from her face. “I’m here, Daddy,” she said. “Part of you came back.”

  She tried to see him as a young man. A man in love. A man doing what he loved, and that apparently had been ranching. Where had all that youth and hope gone? Because it had been long gone when she knew him. How much courage had it taken to keep her when her mother deserted them? Had he ever even loved her mother? He’d never men
tioned either her mother or Lori.

  She wished she’d known him better.

  “I loved you,” she whispered to the wind. “I will always love you.”

  Then she saw movement below. A truck pulling into the road to the ranch. Ross. She suspected he wouldn’t be happy that she’d taken one of his horses. Well, that was his problem. She turned and looked in another direction, at the vast panorama. The clear sky was darkening as it often did in late afternoon, and the sun looked like molten gold.

  Her roots lay here in the rough soil, the rocky terrain, in the splendid hills and glorious red rock formations. For the first time, she felt close to her father, as if he were looking down at her with an approval she’d never received as a child.

  She knew then that she could never vote to sell the Sunset.

  She didn’t know how long she lingered. An hour, perhaps. So many memories flashed through her mind, so many images. She was filled with feelings and emotions so tumultuous, so strong that they physically hurt.

  She turned to go when she heard the whinny of another horse. For a moment, she felt a shiver of fear. She was out here alone. But any apprehension faded when she saw Ross appear on the trail. For a moment, her chest tightened, but then she slowly relaxed. She reminded herself that she wasn’t going to run any longer. Not from fear. Not from uncertainty.

  Ross’s expression, though, was enough to put the fear of God into anyone. He glowered at her as he slid down from the horse.

  “Dammit,” he said in a low, furious voice. “Don’t you have any sense?”

  She bristled. “Sarah said …”

  “I don’t give a damn what Sarah said.” He stalked over to her, his eyes furious.

  “Your horse is perfectly fine,” she defended herself, thinking he was afraid she might hurt the horse again. “Dan’l said …”

  “I’m not worried about the horse,” he said, interrupting her for the second time.

  The admission stunned her. That was all she thought he cared about. Her chin lifted. “I can take care of myself,” she said. “I’ve been doing it since I was seventeen.”