“Look at me.”
Her throat worked.
“Kate.”
She swung her gaze to his, and there was no mistaking the fatigue, wariness, and the healthy dose of fear he saw there. “What?”
“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t the faintest freaking clue why I’m here. Maybe it’s some sort of whack karmic justice, or God having a really big laugh at my expense. All I know is that I felt—we all felt—like it was the right thing to do.” Now it was his turn to look away. Because he still wasn’t being completely truthful with her. “And maybe it’s because once I saw your picture, it stirred up a bunch of stuff I thought I was long done with. Stuff that not even my father dying stirred up.”
He felt her gaze flicker to his and looked up in time to catch it, hold it.
“Meaning what?” she asked.
“Meaning we have unfinished business, you and me.”
“We don’t have any business. We never did.”
“I know.” His grin was slow, but it kept on growing until he saw the color steal back into her cheeks. “That’s the unfinished part.”
Chapter 4
Kate didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up. Her stomach was in knots, her emotions were all over the map…and her body was responding to Donovan’s grin as though she were still seventeen and prowling the campgrounds trying to sneak a glimpse of him with his shirt off.
“The only business I’m interested in is getting my camp up and running.”
“What’s the holdup on starting the renovations? How long have you been up here?”
“A month. I’m still assessing what needs to be done and organizing the labor I’ll need.” Although that had also proved to be a more difficult challenge than she’d anticipated.
“And?”
“And what? It’s not something that gets done overnight. My target opening date is next spring. I’m in good shape.”
“Tell me about the developers. Did the papers have that right? Is there interest from them on the property?”
“I—I wouldn’t know. Exactly.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, exactly?”
“Shelby and I still have some details to work out. He’s—still the legal owner of the property. Any dealings with developers would have been through him.” Something she’d thought long and hard about after Donovan had left last night. Could they be any part of the reason why he hadn’t shown up? She knew about the articles; her attorney had mentioned them to her during their last talk, that word had gotten out about the wacky heiress to Louisa Graham’s fortune giving it all away. She hadn’t read them or paid any real attention to what he’d been saying about them. She didn’t get the Times up here in Ralston. And her focus was on getting started on the renovations, not on what Manhattan society thought of her business dealings. But maybe she should have paid closer attention. The developer angle had been news to her.
“What do you know about Timberline?”
“Is that the development company? I’ve never heard of them.”
“The news story made it sound like—”
“I don’t care what they made it sound like. I haven’t heard of them. If it wasn’t for my lawyer—and you—I wouldn’t even know my inheritance situation was news.”
“They didn’t interview you for the article?”
She shook her head.
That quieted him for a moment.
The silence didn’t soothe her rapidly fraying nerves. “Is there a problem? What in the world did it say? I thought it was just some piece ridiculing me for giving up Louisa’s fortune.”
She felt his gaze on her.
“I wouldn’t have come up here if that had been the case. It specifically mentioned the vandalism and the developers. If you didn’t tell them about that, who did? Shelby?”
Her mind was spinning again. “I—I don’t know. I suppose it would have to have been.” Except her stepbrother didn’t know about the vandalism. Not through her anyway. And she seriously doubted he was keeping close tabs on the property itself. It had sat vacant now for almost a decade, and clearly no one had been paying any attention to it up to this point.
But then he hadn’t mentioned the developers to her either. Had he suddenly developed a renewed interest in his initial inheritance?
“What steps have you taken regarding the graffiti and any other damage?”
“What did the article say about the development deal, specifically?” she asked at the same time.
Mac answered first. “Not much, other than an attempted buyout had been made. And that there had been reports of vandalism on the property. Did you report that to the sheriff’s office?”
“Yes.” For all the good it had done. Gilby had assured her it was nothing but some local delinquents. Except Ralston, the nearest town to Winnimocca, was still almost an hour away. She had no “locals.” She’d gotten up this morning and called his office, only to be brushed off again. So she’d decided to head down and park herself in front of Gilby himself until he agreed to send someone out again to look at the new damage.
“Did you file a report?”
“For what it was worth, yes.”
“What’s been done?”
She debated telling him. She still didn’t know why he was really here. But a trip to see Gilby would give him the same information. “They sent someone out, but he essentially patted me on the shoulder and told me not to worry my pretty little head about it, that it was just some kids having a laugh at my expense. He said if I actually saw anybody and could give a description, or saw a vehicle on the property that I could get plate information off of, he’d be happy to follow up on that. Otherwise, it was a matter for me to take up with my insurance company.”
“But he didn’t happen to mention that anyone else’s property was being vandalized in the area.” Mac made it a statement.
She shook her head. “No. And I sort of thought ‘Go Home, Rich Bitch’ was pretty personal, but they didn’t seem to share my concern.”
“Is the sheriff aware of the particulars in terms of ownership of the property?”
She glanced over at him, her wariness returning. “I don’t know why he would be. Through me filing the report, he knows I’ve come back to rebuild here and open a camp. But I’ve also been making calls to some of the construction businesses in Ralston, trying to line up estimates.” Not that she’d been all that successful on that front either. She’d chalked it up to the old-fashioned mentality of most of the guys she’d talked to, who didn’t want to deal with a woman. They’d find out she was more determined than they were narrow-minded. She figured as soon as she hired one crew, and they realized she was serious and could pay them, the rest would come calling. “Ralston is a small town, word travels, so I’m sure it’s no secret around the whole county that I’m here and planning to reopen the camp. I assume they all believe I’m the owner, and I let them believe that. It’s merely a formality anyway.”
“When does it become official?”
She faltered. “I—I’m not sure.”
There was a brief pause; then he asked, “Where were you yesterday?” When she looked at him warily, he lifted his shoulders. “You were wearing a nice suit when I saw you last night, carrying a briefcase. I don’t imagine there’s much need for that in Ralston.”
“I was in the city for meetings pertaining to the property. But…it’s not finalized yet.”
She waited for him to poke and prod further, but he switched tactics. “I’m just trying to follow the same path the reporter did who put the article together. So far, their sources would—or could—include Shelby and the sheriff.”
“Or possibly anyone in Ralston. For all I know the vandalism is common knowledge.”
“Is the Sentinel still up and running?” Donovan was referring to the paper that was based in Ralston, but pretty much served everyone on this side of the county.
“Yes. I used it when I started compiling names and businesses to call.”
“Did they run a story on the vandalism?”
“No. I mean, not that I know of. No one contacted me. It might have been mentioned in the little sheriff’s crime column, but other than that—why do you ask? What difference would that make?”
“I don’t know yet. But, at least back when I lived here, it was big news if someone ran the only light in town. You’d think this would have been at least filler on the local interest page if nothing else.”
She shrugged, though if his goal was to further unnerve her, he was doing a good job. “Winnimocca isn’t all that close to town. Maybe it never came up.”
“And after telling the sheriff about your plans to open a camp for disabled kids, no one came out here to do a little local feature story either?”
“No, but honestly, Donov—Mac, I didn’t really assume they would. I haven’t even begun repairs yet. Maybe they’re waiting until there’s more of a story. Who knows?” She didn’t tell him that her other mission this morning, after seeing Gilby, was to pay a visit to the head of the Ralston Chamber of Commerce. Her intent there was to talk up the camp a little, see if she could get his support by bringing to his attention the future business the camp might provide to Ralston, in exchange for him talking it up a little with the local merchants, most notably anyone having anything to do with construction.
“Is there anyone else?”
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t follow the question. “Anyone else what?”
“Anyone else who might be talking. Do you have any partners, silent or otherwise? Anyone helping you in any way or otherwise involved with you?”
She knew he was talking business. He sounded just like the detective he used to be, and she was definitely starting to feel interrogated. And yet she didn’t dare so much as glance at him. On the off chance there was anything personal behind the question. “No. Just me. I—I have connections with people I hope to hire as instructors and counselors, but in terms of ownership and management, it’s just me.”
He fell silent again, and maybe it was her own mounting tension over the increasingly negative situation she was finding herself in that made the air between them seem to crackle. But, at least from her perspective, the awareness and tension were operating on another level as well. She did risk a quick sideways glance at him then; she couldn’t help it. His profile was solemn, his jaw hard and set. His gaze was fixed on some point out the front windshield. And she had no clue what was going through his mind. Chances were he really was here on something of a lark, to help her out. Chances were, he didn’t want or desire anything else from her other than a job well done and maybe a polite thank-you.
She settled more deeply into the sprung cushion seat and tried to tell herself all the reasons why being disappointed with that probable reality was a really dangerous way to feel.
“What are you planning to do during the off season?” he asked rather abruptly.
“What off season? Spring is here. Perfect time to get work done. By winter all the exterior work should be done, leaving only the inside refurbishing for the colder months.”
“I meant what are your plans during the off season of the camp. Louisa wintered in Manhattan or whatever island beckoned.” She felt his gaze shift to her. “Where do you plan to hibernate?”
She wanted to ask him what that had to do with the vandalism and possible developer intrusion, but didn’t. Maybe his mind was following the same personal track hers was. Only what difference it made, she had no idea. “Are you—is your people-helper business based in the city?” she asked in return.
“No. Virginia. We have Finn’s father’s old place. It’s the base of operations for Trinity.”
She happened to know that “old place” was a majestic sea of acreage in the old-wealth section of Virginia horse country. “Trinity? As in—” She glanced at him in time to see his lips curve.
“Yes,” he admitted, “as in Unholy Trinity.”
“I can’t believe you guys stuck together all these years.”
Mac didn’t respond to that; instead, he shifted the focus back to her. “So, where do you live? I mean, normally.”
“I live in that cabin back at camp.” She knew what he was getting after, but she wanted to let him hang himself on his own narrow-minded preconceptions of her. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Okay,” he said with the same exaggerated patience. “And this winter?”
“I’ll still be living in the cabin. It is my sole residence now.”
“Where were you before moving up here?”
“Not that it has anything to do with the situation at hand, but before moving here I lived in university-funded housing just off campus from where I was teaching.”
“You’re a teacher?”
She did look at him then. “I’m opening up a camp to help disabled kids learn new methods to help them cope with their limitations. What did you think I did?”
“I—I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
She liked that little momentary catch in his voice. She doubted he was often caught off guard. Unreasonably cheered by having the upper hand, even if it was likely short-lived, she took advantage. “I’m not my mother, Donovan,” she said, purposely using his given name. And maybe he’d just have to get used to it. He simply wasn’t Mac to her. “I’m not here to play camp owner to the offspring of the wealthy as a way to springboard myself into the realms of high society. This will be a working camp dedicated to helping those who need it, whether they can afford it or not. I am already working with several nonprofits and other charitable foundations in hopes of raising money to fund scholarships or something similar for kids who can’t otherwise attend. And I won’t be handing off the day-to-day management to someone else. I will be running this place from the ground up. It is my dream to see this camp realized, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it a reality.”
He didn’t say anything at first, then, finally, “I’m sorry.”
“For?” she said archly, still revved up from her little speech and not quite ready to abdicate her temporary throne.
“It’s been a long time. We really don’t know each other. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”
It wasn’t the best apology she’d ever gotten, or even the most heartfelt, but coming from him, it was more than she’d expected.
She shifted her attention back to the road. “As for winter, I don’t plan for this to be a summer-only camp, though that will be when we’ll do the most work. Spring and fall will be heavily utilized and, if I can make it happen, I’m hoping to use the winter months as a teachers retreat where instructors can come and study and learn more about the alternative methods I plan to implement here.”
“An impressive agenda.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Not that it’s any of my business, but—”
She barked out a laugh. “Not that it’s stopped you so far.”
They both smiled a little. “True,” he said. “But what I was going to ask doesn’t really pertain to the case; it’s personal. I’m just curious.” So, she was just a case. She’d felt as though a lot of what was transpiring between them was personal. Being all business would certainly be smarter. Only she wasn’t feeling all that smart at the moment. “What are you curious about?”
“Why you gave up the fortune Louisa left you for a rundown camp. You could have helped a lot of kids with that money, opened up a camp anywhere.”
She smiled. “Oh, that.”
“Well, it’s a valid question.”
“It is, and, trust me, you’re not the first to ask it.” She laughed wearily. “My attorney was the first to ask me; only his language was a little more direct.” She steered the truck around a particularly tight curve and tried to decide how best to explain. Not that she had to. But for whatever reason, his opinion seemed to matter, at the moment anyway. He’d already found out she wasn’t the spoiled society girl he seemed to think she’d become. If she could dismantle a few other misconceptions, that was fine by
her, too.
“Initially, it was a knee-jerk reaction to the disbursement of her assets. Both Shelby and I were shocked. Though, once that wore off, we both agreed that it was quintessential Louisa to pull something like that. One of the few things we ever agreed on.” She sighed a little. “Anyway, long story short, I’d been estranged from my mother for a very long time, since my college years. Shelby, on the other hand, had stood by her and helped her invest her money and build her empire. By rights it was his.”
“So why dump the camp on him? Was it more to punish him, then?”
“No, she got us both. Shelby’s father, George, was Louisa’s third husband, and Winnimocca was his when they married, so, by rights, it passed to Shelby. I was Louisa’s only biological and legal child, as she’d never adopted Shelby and went on to remarry after his father’s death. So, along that line of thinking, I was heiress to her personal throne, so to speak. Only neither of us wanted what we got. I blurted out that we should swap, both because it was the right thing to do, and, admittedly, because it thwarted my mother’s final exertion of control over us.”
“But then you, or your attorney, came to your senses…”
She smiled. “Well, yes and no. The emotional part of my reaction passed, but the rational part was still there.” She glanced at him. “Inheriting that kind of estate is a lot more complicated than people understand. It’s not like I won the lottery and someone was just going to hand me some huge check. Her money was all tied up in a variety of business investments, all kinds of things. Just randomly liquidating things in order to get an influx of cash to use to buy and fund a camp wasn’t all that simple, and would put a lot of people out of work. And that’s just the part that could be sold off. A lot of it was tied up in all kinds of partnerships and the like. Like I said, really complicated.”
“Actually, I do understand that a little. More than you might think.” He waved a hand. “But go on.”
She was going to ask him to elaborate, but decided to circle back to it when she was done. “I had no desire to step in and run or dismantle her empire.”
The Black Sheep and the Princess Page 5
