The Royal Wager

by Kristi Gold

  Mitch remained in the same position until the car disappeared from view, the ache that he’d had since that morning growing more intense with each passing moment. But this time it was centered in his chest, right around the neighborhood of his heart.

  “Are you going to tell him if you’re preggers?”

  Avoiding Stella’s scrutiny, Tori continued to stare out the side window at the passing scenery on the interstate, what there was to see aside from billboards and the occasional fast-food joint. “I hope I have nothing to tell.”

  Stella turned down the radio, a good thing since the love song was greatly aiding in Tori’s temptation to cry. “He has a right to know.”

  “And I have a right to live my life as I choose, so butt out.”

  `“My, my, you’re testy. I bet you are pregnant.”

  Tori sent Stella a look as sour as her stomach. “I could be premenstrual. Have you considered that?”

  “I guess that could be it, but I don’t think it’s likely.”

  “You sound like you want me to be pregnant.”

  Stella took one hand from the wheel and patted her belly. “Misery loves company.”

  Miserable was exactly how Tori felt at the moment, and she didn’t welcome any advice from her friend or anyone else, for that matter. “Look, if I did happen to be pregnant, I don’t see any reason to involve a man who doesn’t want kids or marriage or anything that even remotely resembles commitment. It wouldn’t be fair to subject my child to that.”

  “Mitch isn’t like your father, Tori. I know he’d want to do the right thing. And if you dig down deep past all that pain you’re in now, you’d know it, too.”

  Tori shifted to one side as far the seatbelt would allow. “What is the right thing, Stella? Marrying only for the sake of a baby?”

  She saw a flash of hurt cross her friend’s face. “Bobby and I married because we love each other. The baby only sped things up a little.”

  How could she have been so careless with her words and Stella’s feelings? “I didn’t mean you and Bobby. I know you love each other. But Mitch doesn’t love me.”

  “Did you ask him?”

  “I shouldn’t have to ask. I did tell him before I left that I was falling in love with him.”

  Stella’s eyes went wide as the wheel. “What did he say to that?”

  “Not a thing, and there’s my answer.”

  “Maybe he’s scared, Tori. Bobby nearly swallowed his tongue before he got out the ‘love’ word the first time.”

  Tori was terrified. “Love’s a scary business, especially where Mitch is concerned. I’m not even sure he’s capable of it.”

  “Oh, he is. It’s just going to take the right woman, and I honestly believe that could be you.”

  If Tori could really believe that, then she would have agreed to see him again. She would have returned to Quail Run on weekends, showed him the sights of Dallas and made love to him as often as she could. But he’d given her no hope of that ever happening. He’d given her no promises. And hopefully, he hadn’t given her a child, even though, under different circumstances, that would be the greatest gift of all.

  “Speed up a little, Stella,” she said. “I’m going to miss my plane.”

  “You’re going to miss Mitch Warner, Tori. You won’t be able to escape him, even when you get home.”

  “I have too much work to do on the article to think about him.”

  Even before Stella snickered, Tori realized how ridiculous that sounded. “Considering the story’s about him, that’s going to be tough, Victoria.”

  Regardless of what had transpired between them, Tori vowed to do the best work she had ever done. She was professional enough to paint a favorable picture of the man, even if he’d considered her only a convenience. Even if he happened to be the man she loved and could never have. He was still a good man. And no one knew that better than Victoria Barnett.

  He lives in obscurity in Oklahoma with his grandfather who calls him Gus. The town folk consider him the consummate community leader. To see him on the street, he appears to be a classic contemporary cowboy. But in reality, he’s a Harvard-educated rancher whose roots run deep in a political dynasty…

  And he was going to be a father.

  That morning, Tori had taken three tests to confirm what she already knew—she was pregnant. As her mother had done before her, she’d traded common sense for charisma in the arms of a commitment-phobic cowboy. Another sad case of repeating history.

  She had no idea how to tell him. Or even if she should tell him, although he did indicate he wanted to know so they could “deal” with it. But what then?

  Tori didn’t have time to ponder the hows and whys when her boss breezed in, holding the last draft of the article, number five at Tori’s last count.

  “I think this is almost it,” Renee declared, her smile accentuating her apple cheeks. “It’s got everything. Great quotes. Local color. Love the pictures. But…”

  Tori hated it when people ended a sentence with “but.” “What is it now?”

  “You’re missing a very important aspect, namely a comment from Edward Senior.”

  “This is about Mitch Warner, not the senator.”

  “It just won’t ring true unless we interview his father.”

  She could just imagine what Mitch would have to say about that. “I promised I wouldn’t involve his father—”

  “You don’t make promises you can’t keep, Tori.”

  Renee had that look about her, the one that said she wasn’t about to budge short of a sudden Texas tornado, signaling certain defeat for Tori. “And how am I supposed to get this interview when the article goes to press in a few hours?”

  Renee tossed the draft on the desk in front of Tori. “I’ve taken care of that. Senator Warner has agreed to give you fifteen minutes.”

  Tori felt the internal panic button depressing. “When?”

  “Now. He’s on his way up. Be nice to him.”

  With that, Renee swiveled on her heels and strode out of the office before Tori could manage another argument.

  A few minutes later, Senator Edward Warner arrived in the open door, an impeccably polished statesman and a glimpse of the future Mitchell Warner. Tori had seen him in numerous photographs and on TV, yet the images had not done him justice.

  His black hair was painted silver at the temples and his eyes, though not as light as Mitch’s, were sky blue. He was slighter in build and probably two inches shorter than his son, yet his air of confidence and palpable control made Tori’s office seem to shrink.

  Rising slowly from her seat, Tori regained enough composure to extend her hand. “Senator Warner, I’m Victoria Barnett. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  He stepped forward and took her hand for a brief shake. “Very nice to meet you, Ms. Barnett. I do have a plane to catch back to D.C. in two hours, so I don’t have much time.”

  Tori gestured to the chair opposite hers. “Then please, have a seat and I’ll explain why you’ve been asked here today.”

  He sat and sent her a practiced politician’s smile. “It’s my understanding you would like some sort of statement from me concerning a feature on my son.”

  “Yes, that is what my editor is requesting.”

  “This wasn’t your idea?”

  “Actually, no. Mitch doesn’t…” She studied the paperweight on her desk, hating how ill-prepared she was for this meeting. “I’m afraid your son—”

  “Doesn’t care to have my opinion.”

  She finally looked up and found his expression somber. “That’s correct.”

  “Then I assume you know that our relationship has not been on the best of terms.”

  “That’s been common knowledge for some time. But Mitch did mention it to me a time or two.”

  “That surprises me, considering my son is a very private man. He also has a strong contempt for the media, and rightfully so. Until the past few years, he’s spent his life in the spot
light. He was forced to grieve for his mother on national television. My position has left us all open for scorn.”

  The disdain in his tone disturbed Tori. “Senator Warner, you are under no obligation to say anything at all.”

  He smoothed a neatly manicured hand down the lapels of his navy silk suit. “If I thought that I could say something to mend my relationship with my son, I’d do it. I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

  “It’s never too late. I only know that whether he admits it or not, he needs you in his life.” Two minutes in his presence, and she’d already revealed too much.

  “You sound as if you have a personal investment in Mitch’s well-being.”

  How was she going to dig herself out of this one? Honesty was the best course. “I spent quite a bit of time with him during the interview process. I consider him a friend.” And so much more. “He’s a good man who happens to be in a lot of pain. I don’t like to see anyone suffer.”

  “And you’re suggesting that by adding my thoughts to this story, I’ll alleviate some of his resentment toward me?”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  “I admire your optimism, Ms. Barnett, even if I don’t embrace it.” He crossed one leg over the other and adjusted his red tie. “If I speak to you off the record, can I trust that you won’t repeat what I’m about to tell you?”

  Tori pushed the recorder to one side and folded her hands in front of her. “Of course. But again, I don’t want you to feel you have to say anything more.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t. But I’ve spoken with Mitch’s grandfather and he seems to think you have more than a passing interest in Mitch. He also speaks very highly of you.”

  Tori nearly choked. “You’ve talked to Buck?”

  “Yes. He’s been much more understanding and forgiving than Mitch.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He claims that you’re the woman who could bring my son around. I might have passed that off as the ramblings of a hopeful grandfather, but after listening to you for the past few moments, I believe he could be right.”

  Lord, her feelings for Mitch must be flashing like a neon sign across her face. “As I’ve said, we’re only friends. I think Buck would like it to be more, but that’s not very likely.”

  He looked more than a little skeptical. “Mitch could use a friend. Someone who understands why his wounds run so deep.”

  Tori already recognized the depths of Mitch’s wounds. She also realized every story had two sides. She’d heard Mitch’s version; she might as well hear his father’s since he was willing to provide it. “Okay, then. If you think it will help, I’m willing to listen.”

  He shifted in the chair, the first sign of a chink in his composure. “I’m assuming Mitch told you he has never forgiven me for marrying only months after his mother’s death.”

  “Yes. He sees it as a betrayal of her memory.”

  “It’s difficult to explain why things happen the way they do,” he continued. “Caroline was there to see me through a very tough time in my life. Not only had I lost my wife, I’d lost my son as well.”

  “And grief drew you both together.” Not so different from Tori’s and Mitch’s connection brought about by their shared sorrow over the loss of their mothers.

  “I suppose in some ways I couldn’t face the prospect of living my life alone. Maybe that’s a sign of weakness, and maybe that held true in the beginning. But Caroline and I have had a good life that’s developed into a solid, loving relationship. Unfortunately, it hasn’t included Mitch, by his choice.”

  “Maybe now that you’re relinquishing your senate seat, it might be easier to repair your relationship. If you do intend to retire.”

  “I do, and my reasons have to do with something that is not yet public knowledge.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Again, I’m taking a chance by trusting you, but because you obviously care about my son, I believe this is something you should know. Another reason why Mitch and I might never heal the breach in our relationship.”

  Tori could not imagine what he was about to say, or if she really wanted to hear it. But if it directly involved Mitch, she needed to know. “Go ahead.”

  “I’m leaving the senate because my wife’s pregnant.”

  Great. Mitch was about to have a sibling and a child. Fine fodder for the scandal machine. “Congratulations. When’s the baby due?”

  “My daughter should be here in five months.”

  “A girl? That’s wonderful.”

  He flashed a father’s smile full of pride, but it quickly faded. “Caroline is in her early forties, so it’s a high-risk pregnancy. But so far everything is going well. I pray that continues.”

  Tori witnessed sincere concern in his eyes, maybe even a hint of fear. Understandable. He’d already lost one wife; he was worried he might lose another. “I’m sure everything will be fine. And maybe this blessing will be the first step in repairing your relationship with Mitch.”

  “I’m not sure if or when I should tell him.”

  Ironic that Tori was in the same boat. “He probably should hear it from you instead of someone else.” Advice she should follow, something that was becoming all too clear. “When the press gets wind of this, it will be all over the country.”

  “I know. I’ll have to decide how to handle that soon.”

  “In the meantime, if you could find something favorable to say about Mitch for this article, that could help open the lines of communication.”

  When another long span of silence commenced, Tori feared he might not agree. Then he pointed to the recorder near her hand. “Turn that on.”

  Tori fumbled for the switch, earning a genuine smile from the senator. “Okay, I’m all set.”

  He settled back in the chair, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Mitch is a fine man and I respect his decision not to carry on the tradition of politics in the family. I’m very proud of what he’s accomplished, and I know his mother would be as well.” He hesitated for a long moment and in his eyes Tori saw the depth of his pain and remorse. “I love him as much as any man could love his son.”

  He rose from the chair and said, “You may quote that.”

  Tori swallowed around the fullness in her throat, struggling to keep the threatening tears at bay as she stood. “Wouldn’t you rather tell him that in person?”

  He released a resigned sigh. “I gave up on convincing Mitch that I’ve always had his best interest at heart, even if I’ve made more than my share of mistakes.”

  “Maybe he’ll be ready to listen after the article comes out.”

  “That would be great. And a miracle. But if he isn’t willing to communicate with me, you can tell him for me. All of it. And take care of him.”

  With that, he was out the door, and Tori was left alone, stunned by his assumption that Mitch would ever consider letting her take care of him. Shocked that he had so easily read and accurately interpreted her feelings for his son, with a little help from Buck and her own inability to hide her emotions.

  At least she had a quote she could use to appease Renee. A sincere, heartfelt quote from a father who was suffering as much as his son. But would Mitch welcome his father’s words, or would he take exception to Tori including them? She had no choice. This involved her standing with her editor, her job. Possibly better pay and a promotion, something she would need if she were forced to raise her baby alone as well as pay off her debts. Yet deep down, Tori remained hopeful that this would be a catalyst for opening a dialogue between Mitch and his father. An opportunity for both men to heal. Then again, maybe she was being overly optimistic.

  The other two decisions she now faced weighed even heavier on her mind—if and when to tell Mitch about the baby, and whether to open the faded envelope resting atop her desk. Right now, she would deal with the latter.

  Drawing a cleansing breath, Tori slit the envelope’s seal with one shaky fingertip and unfolded the single page. A faded photo dropped on
to the desk—a snapshot of her youthful mother and a smiling cowboy. Presumably, Tori’s father.

  She gripped the letter in one hand while covering her mouth with the other, her vision blurred from tears as she read the information she’d avoided most of her life.

  His name was Rick Ballard. He’d had medium brown hair, dark brown eyes and a pirate’s smile, a sweet-talker of the first order. He’d hailed from Wyoming and spent his life on the road as a bull rider. One weekend in October, he’d come to Quail Run to participate in the local rodeo and had sufficiently swept Tori’s then seventeen-year-old mother off her feet and into his arms. Eventually into his motel bed on their last night together—the night Tori had been conceived.

  The final two revelations sent a sob climbing up Tori’s throat that slipped out on the heels of her unexpected sorrow.

  He had died two months before Tori’s third birthday in a tragic rodeo accident while doing what he loved to do. Before that fateful day, he had never known that Victoria May Barnett existed, because he’d never known about the pregnancy. And her mother had lied to her daughter all those years by claiming it had been careless disregard that had kept him away from his child.

  Tori cleared away her shock to read the four simple words closing the letter, a plea for forgiveness.

  “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  Caught in a stranglehold of emotions, Tori swiped furiously at the tears now streaming down her cheeks. She experienced regret over the loss of her father and anger over her mother’s deception. And confused. Why hadn’t she been forthcoming with the truth? Maybe Cynthia Barnett had been so ashamed that she’d needed to blame her lover. Maybe she’d inherently known that the man she loved was not interested in commitment and she couldn’t change that.

  Since the letter offered no explanation for her mother’s motives, Tori would never know the whys. But she did know two things.

  She would forgive her mother and let go of any bitterness. Otherwise, she would end up like a man she knew. And she had to tell that man about their baby. She would not let her own child suffer the same fate of never knowing its father, regardless of what Mitch chose to do with the information.