Perfect Family

by Potter, Patricia;

  A family. Perhaps for the first time, it became real. Despite last night, a sense of belonging flowed into her. No one had asked her how she would vote when she’d returned from the hospital. They’d just embraced her, hurting for her.

  That’s what families did. Didn’t they?

  “Eat while it’s hot, Jessie,” Sarah said, and Jessie obeyed. She was hungry. Starved. She sipped the chocolate, then nibbled on the toast. It was wonderful. It was the ultimate comfort food, loaded with fat and calories and other things that were supposed to be bad. But it was nectar. She started to relax. The ache in the back of her head seemed to fade away.

  “I hope … the accident won’t make you decide to leave,” Sarah said after a moment.

  “I don’t plan to go anywhere. Not yet.”

  “Good for you. You’re a true Clements.”

  A true Clements. Jessie wasn’t sure at this moment whether that was good or bad. But she knew it was meant as a compliment, and so she decided to take it that way. “Tell me more about my father.”

  Sarah smiled. “Harding was a year younger than me. Being the youngest, we looked out for each other. He was a hellion, though, just like most boys around here. They grow up around guns and horses and are raised to believe the world revolves around them.”

  The remainder of the cinnamon toast lay uneaten. Sarah had an expression on her face that told Jessie she had gone back fifty years and was seeing exactly what she was telling. “He didn’t like school and wasn’t good at it, mainly because his interests were elsewhere and he saw no need for ‘book learning.’ He loved the land, the hills. He would camp out for days and explore the cliffs and cave dwellings used by the Indians. He knew more about this land than any of us, probably loved it more. And when his brothers left the ranch and he knew it would be his, he settled down and learned all he needed to run the ranch.”

  Jessie felt her eyes water, but then it seemed they’d been doing a lot of that in the past couple of days. How little she’d known her father. How much had he given up to keep her? He could have handed her over to the state, or left her in a church, but he had dragged her from position to position, probably losing some because he’d had a child tagging along. What had happened to that boy who had loved the desert and the stars? The boy who had apparently so loved his family. Was that why he’d kept her when it would have been so much easier to give her up? Because he’d never quite lost that deep, abiding respect for family, for belonging.

  “I would like to see those caves,” she said.

  “Then you will,” Sarah said. “Ross knows them all, too.”

  “I don’t think …”

  “Or I can,” Sarah said. “I have a few more rides in me.”

  Then Sarah must have seen something in Jessie’s eyes because she continued, “The day I stop riding is the day I’ll lie down and die,” Sarah said. “I have no intention of sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. My greatest happiness would be showing you more of this country. I think your father would expect it of me.” Sarah stood then. “Listen to me prattling along like an old woman while your food gets cold and you need rest. Now don’t you feel you have to come to supper.”

  She stooped to pet Ben. “You take good care of her,” she ordered the dog who waved his tale in frantic consent.

  “Sarah,” Jessie asked, stopping her.

  “Yes?”

  “I overheard Alex and Marc talking about a letter Heath might have left. Can I see it?”

  Sarah’s face clouded again. “Is that what you were doing in the attic?”

  “Yes. I didn’t think there would be anything wrong …”

  “Of course there isn’t,” Sarah said. “I told you this house is as much yours as mine now. I’ll see if I can find it.”

  But Sarah’s eyes avoided hers, and Jessie wondered whether the letter would ever surface.

  Then Sarah was gone, leaving the fragrance of lavender in the room.

  Jessie slept for a while. When she woke, she still felt as if her mind was fogged. She wanted a cup of coffee, or something else to clear it, but she wasn’t ready to see anyone yet. Instead, she took out the sheaf of papers Alex had given her and tried to read the small print. There was a copy of the original will, her DNA test results, an affidavit that she would have to sign declaring that she was who she was. Then there was a copy of the offer for the ranch. It was for an astronomical amount of money.

  Money that wouldn’t be needed by anyone if the bearer bonds were found and divided. Finding those bonds would reduce the pressure for selling the ranch.

  Her head pounded harder.

  So did her heart.

  Regardless of whom a sale would benefit or destroy, she felt to her bones that selling this land, subdividing it into little parcels of look-alike houses, would be a tragedy. He loved the land. Jessie realized her father would never have wanted this land sold, sacrificed. He’d always been true to her, in his own way. He’d kept her. Now she had to keep the land intact for him. It was the least she could do.

  And then she would return home, look again at the primer, and see whether or not there really were clues to a fortune in bearer bonds.

  She felt better now that she had determined in her own mind exactly what she wanted to do. And the sooner now that she told everyone she would not approve the sale, then the sooner everyone could go about their business. She felt wary enough, though, not to mention the book yet, not until she determined whether there was really something to it.

  Jessie knew enough about bearer bonds to understand that whoever had possession could cash them in. She wasn’t entirely sure that whoever was searching for the bonds planned to share.

  Ben crowded next to her, and she gave him a hug. “Are you ready to go home?” she asked.

  Ben’s tail wagged eagerly.

  “I know,” she said. “Home is good.” But there were still things she had to know. She wondered if last night had been more of a warning than a real intention to hurt her.

  She looked at the clock, then the late afternoon sun filtering through the window. No one had knocked, apparently deciding to let her sleep, but now she was hungry. She went to the window. No Ross. But there were several cars in front. More of the family was back, and it was probably the best thing to tell them all her decision. Then maybe they wouldn’t be so eager to claim her.

  Pleased that she’d made a decision, she quickly changed into slacks and a knit shirt and regarded herself critically in the mirror.

  Her eyes looked sleepy, a little bloodshot. Her hair around the stitches seemed to stand straight up. She had no idea what to do about that. Spray wouldn’t be wise. Then she decided it didn’t matter. She applied a little lipstick, then a touch of powder to give her some color.

  “You can come,” she told Ben, who undoubtedly needed a trip outside. He followed happily as she descended the stairs. The room was full. Marc and Samantha were both there. So was Halden, the eldest Clements, in his usual easy chair. Cullen with his wife, Sondra. Elizabeth. And Sarah.

  But Cullen’s sons weren’t there.

  Nor was Alex.

  Or Ross.

  His hand wrapped around a highball glass, Cullen rose and came over to her. “I’m not going to ask you how you are because I’m sure you’re tired of the question. But you certainly look fine. I want you to know we were all very worried about you.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me.”

  He put his hand on hers. “Elizabeth decided to stay over another day to make sure you were all right.”

  Jessie felt a small glow. She tried not to, but it was there all the same. She remembered what Ross had told her about Elizabeth, that she’d lost her fiancé. There were few people she’d connected with as easily as she had with her new cousin. She wondered how Elizabeth would feel about her decision.

  Best not to wait, she thought. “I’ve made a decision,” she said. Everyone looked at her. Sarah had gone absolutely still. She suddenly felt as if
she were in a tableau, in which everyone was frozen in place. She hadn’t needed to elaborate.

  “I don’t think my father would have wanted me to vote to sell,” she said.

  The tableau didn’t move for a moment.

  Then Marc rose. “Don’t you think you should think about it a little longer?”

  Sarah didn’t say anything, but a smile lit her face.

  Cullen moved closer. “I hope you haven’t ruled it out altogether. It’s a great deal of money, and the buyer might even offer more.”

  Then Elizabeth came over to her and put an arm around her. “Don’t bully her,” she said.

  “Have you told Alex yet?” Marc asked.

  She shook her head. “I thought I should tell you first.”

  Samantha’s face was tight-lipped. Sondra frowned, anger flashing in her eyes.

  “A lot has happened in the past few days,” Marc said soothingly. “It might be wise if you didn’t make a decision so quickly.”

  “It’s not quick,” she said. “I’ve had time to think about it. I just don’t think this land should be sold.”

  “You don’t even know this land,” Sondra said, a tight look spoiling the lovely face. “It’s not fair to the rest of us.”

  Jessie met her angry eyes. “Perhaps not,” she said levelly, “but apparently Hall Clements wanted to preserve the ranch, too, or he never would have made that provision.”

  Cullen went over to his wife and put his hands on her shoulders, but she angrily shook out of them, rose, and stalked away.

  “Just think about it,” Cullen pleaded. “And give Roy Smith a chance to make another offer.”

  She wanted to say yes, to equivocate, but she knew she wouldn’t change her decision. “It wouldn’t change my mind,” she said. “I would still vote no.”

  “That’s your right,” Marc said smoothly. “You don’t owe us anything.”

  Something about that statement didn’t strike her right, but she ignored it. “I think I’d better let Ben out.”

  Seven pairs of eyes went down to Ben, who seemed to notice. He retreated behind her legs.

  Sarah spoke for the first time. “We’ll have a buffet ready in just a few moments.”

  “I need a drink,” Jessie heard Marc say as she went out the door.

  She closed it quietly behind her. Ben went running over to Ross’s house. She should have realized that he would. His truck was parked in front, so he’d arrived sometime in the past hour.

  “Ben,” she called. She didn’t think she was ready for another encounter with Ross Macleod. She knew he would be pleased with her decision, but that wasn’t why she’d made it. Her father had come alive for her in the past weeks, strangely more so than when he was alive. Now he was a man with dreams and passions, not one drained by life and drink. And she knew to the depths of her soul exactly what he would want her to do.

  Ben returned reluctantly, went about his business, then started once more for Ross’s home.

  She wanted to follow. She wanted to tell him that the ranch would continue as it had for nearly one hundred years.

  But she couldn’t do it. She still felt too raw. Too uncertain of his feelings, his motives. Everyone’s motives. She felt that what she’d done had been right for her, for her father. And she would receive small payments over the years from profits of the ranch, though it certainly wouldn’t be millions of dollars. It was far more than she’d ever expected.

  She did feel good about her decision, and it had nothing to do with Sarah or Ross. It had all to do with her. And now, she knew, it was time to go home. Then perhaps she could find the answer to the final mystery. And cope with the fact that she would probably never know exactly what happened that day fifty years ago that tore apart a family.

  She lingered for a moment, hoping perhaps that Ross would come out. But he might well be out riding. He often did in the evening, she was told. She wanted to be with him, astride a horse and watching the sun recede behind a mountain. How could she feel that way if she thought he might have struck her? Because part of her knew it couldn’t be true?

  Then who?

  She returned to the house before she lost her resolve. Rosa was laying out food on the table, and she was reminded how hungry she was. No one had left after her announcement, and with the exception of Samantha, everyone was cordial. Elizabeth grabbed a plate and sat next to her. “That was gutsy,” she whispered in approval.

  “How do you feel about it?” she asked.

  “I have mixed feelings,” Elizabeth said. “I spent a lot more time here than my brother and I love it. But Andy never comes. I told him I would agree if he really wanted it,” she added with a sigh. “It would mean I could travel, but deep down I would always miss the Sunset.”

  Jessie nodded, more sure than ever that she’d made the right decision.

  An hour later, everyone who didn’t live at the Sunset left. They all gave her a kiss, and none indicated any resentment over what she had decided, but she also had the feeling that they had not given up yet.

  Finally, Marc and Samantha also left, heading for a party at a local home. “A political party,” Marc said. Halden went to bed, leaving Jessie alone with Sarah.

  They went out on the patio in back and settled down in chairs. A part moon and a million stars lit the spectacular rock formations. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Sarah said softly.

  “There’s no need. I think it’s what my father would have wanted.”

  “He would,” Sarah said. “I imagine he’s smiling now.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Would you think about staying?” Sarah asked. “Becoming a part of the ranch? I’ve been doing a lot of the bookkeeping, but my … eyes and concentration aren’t what they used to be. And you belong here.”

  Ben stirred next to her. Perhaps he sensed her sudden excitement. Living here in such raw rugged beauty. Riding every day. Working with Ross. It was an incredibly appealing thought. Too appealing.

  Everything she owned was in Atlanta. Her life was in Atlanta and in the Olde Book Shoppe. The Sunset was a rather unsettling fantasy, something still not quite real. Just as Ross wasn’t quite real. She had never attracted anyone like him before, someone who exuded confidence and competence and pure masculine sensuality. She knew it couldn’t last.

  You belong here.

  But she didn’t. Not really. She still felt a stranger with most of them, and she still knew that someone had struck her in the dark. Like a coward.

  That was why, she suddenly realized, she couldn’t believe Ross was involved. He wasn’t a coward. Someone else then. But who?

  “Did you look for the letter?” she asked Sarah.

  “Yes,” she said. “It wasn’t where I thought it should be.”

  “You didn’t find it then?”

  “No,” Sarah said slowly. “But I don’t think you would find anything helpful. The only reason it was kept is because Halden has a horror of throwing anything away. So did our father. I haven’t seen it myself in forty years.”

  “And it was from Heath?”

  “Yes,” she said reluctantly.

  “What exactly did it say?”

  “That he considered the money a loan, that the bonds that had purchased him a share in the business would be worth far more than what he had taken.”

  “And he didn’t say what he did with them?”

  She was obviously reluctant even to remember, though Jessie sensed that the content of the letter was engraved in her mind. “Sarah?”

  “He said he’d buried them, that he would send us directions in the primer when the company became successful.”

  “Why a primer?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it was part of the promise, his commitment. He knew how important those primers were to the family.”

  “Why doesn’t everyone believe it was destroyed in the fire?”

  “I think they do,” Sarah said. “But it’s the stuff of legend. Buried treasur
e. Every kid in the family has been out there trying to find it. They just can’t seem to give up hope.”

  Jessie pondered that. “Marc and Cullen,” she finally said. “They seem close.”

  “They are, always have been. Up until lately, though, they disagreed on the ranch. Cullen never cared about it. Marc, perhaps because he lived here so long, wanted to keep it. It was just lately that Cullen persuaded him to sell. The offer was a very high one, and Marc is having problems raising money for his campaign. He’s convinced he can win with the right financing.”

  Jessie absorbed all the information. Had Marc mentioned the letter to Cullen? But then Cullen wasn’t at the ranch last night.

  Sarah broke into her thoughts. “You didn’t answer my question about staying here.”

  But Jessie couldn’t let her suspicions go. “Someone was in the attic last night,” she said. “Someone who didn’t want me to find that letter.” It was the best answer she could give. She didn’t feel safe here. There was something … at work that she didn’t understand.

  Sarah didn’t try to contradict her. “Will you at least come back often?”

  “I will do that,” she said. Then she voiced the other decision she’d made today. “I’ll be going home the day after tomorrow.”

  A moment passed. Jessie sensed the regret in her aunt. She was still hiding something. Or protecting someone.

  “I had better go up to bed,” Jessie said.

  “How’s your head?”

  “It aches a little. Other than that, I’m fine.”

  “Would you like to go up to the cliffs?” Sarah said.

  Her hesitation prompted Sarah to add, “I would be riding anyway, Jessie. I was riding this morning. Like I said, I’ll ride until the day I die. And,” she added with a mischievous expression, “it would be much safer if I rode with someone.”

  “Ouch,” Jessie said. Sarah knew exactly how to manipulate her. Just as Ross had charged. Still, she surrendered because she wanted to explore more of this country before she left. “Will you take me to some places where my father used to go?”