Almost Home

by Barbara Freethy

  "A little bird whispered in my ear."

  "And where did that little bird find you? You've been gone so long I thought you were dead."

  "Hoping, weren't you?"

  "I don't waste time hoping for anything where you're concerned."

  "Such harsh words from my son. I'm appalled. Perhaps I've found my daughter just in time. Katherine Whitfield is looking for her father, isn't she?"

  "So she says."

  "Perhaps it's time we met." Jackson took advantage of Zach's confusion to push past him into the house. "Is this all you've got, boy?" He waved his hand at the small room. "I thought you'd be in the main house by now."

  He followed his father into the room, but deliberately left the door open. He didn't want Jackson getting too comfortable. "This suits me fine."

  "You're a lot more like your mother than me. She never had much vision. Satisfied with far too little.”

  His heart hardened to rock. "I'm not like either one of you."

  Jackson gave him a half smile. "You should spend more time having fun, instead of trying to make sure no one mistakes you for me. I've had a good life. You could do worse. In fact, you are doing worse."

  "And you've hurt a lot of people in the process of having fun."

  "I teach valuable life lessons, son. People are smarter after they've met me."

  "I'm sure they're not thanking you for the lesson. Especially Cora Daniels. She spends most of her days at the cemetery since her husband killed himself after losing all his money to you."

  "Now, now, let's not talk about that ugly business. It was years ago." Jackson settled himself on Zach's sofa. Dressed in a beige suit, crisp white shirt, and conservative tie, Jackson almost looked respectable, but Zach had known his father too long to be taken in by clean fingernails and a fresh haircut.

  "I can't believe you want to show your face around this town. People have long memories," he said.

  "No one could prove a thing, Zachary. They never can."

  He sat down on the edge of the hard-back chair across from the couch. "What do you want?"

  "Now, what kind of question is that to be asking your father?"

  "A valid one. What do you want? Money? I told you that well had run dry the last time you came through."

  "I don't need your money. I've got plenty of my own. In fact, I've got myself a business."

  "Selling snake oil."

  "Selling dreams."

  Zach shook his head. "I don't want to know what you're up to. Just leave me out of it."

  "It's not a crime to give people what they want."

  "It is if it's a lie." He looked deep into his father's eyes, but it was impossible to find the truth. "Leave Katherine alone."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that."

  "She's not your daughter."

  "According to my sources, she's twenty-seven years old. Let's see..." Jackson put a finger to the side of his face. "About the time she was conceived, you and I were living in Louisville; you were about seven. I understand Miss Whitfield is under the impression her father lived in these parts back then."

  "I don't believe you're her father."

  "It's not you who has to believe."

  He stood up and paced restlessly around the small room, knowing he would have to pick his words carefully or he'd only feed his father's latest obsession. "Why would you want to be Katherine's father?"

  Jackson stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his pants as if he were a fine gentleman, when in reality he'd slept in his clothes more often than Zach could count.

  "Katherine's stepfather, Mitchell Whitfield, is a wealthy man, an investment banker. He's worth millions."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I do my homework, son. Didn't you learn anything from me? You've had three days to find out about the girl, and I bet you don't know anything important."

  Zach knew a few things, like how Katherine felt pressed against his body, her mouth under his. And how she looked when she was tired and hurting and stubbornly proud. He knew how much she wanted to find the missing piece of her life and how easy it would be for her to grab a clue, any clue, even one that came from his father.

  He didn't believe for a second that Jackson was Katherine's father. The man had simply found a new game.

  Or maybe Zach didn't want to believe. To discover that Katherine was his sister would be unthinkable, unspeakable. It couldn't be true, although a stray daughter wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility, considering Jackson's past. But to have it be this woman -- no. It was too big of a coincidence.

  "Have dinner with me tomorrow night," Jackson said, startling Zach out of his reverie.

  "What?"

  "With Miss Whitfield. I've left a message at her hotel for her to join us at Hastings Grill. Six forty-five." Jackson walked to the door. "The reservation is in your name. Don't be late."

  "I'm not going to help you convince Katherine you're her father."

  "I don't need your help for that. I just want you to get her there."

  "I'm not coming. I won't be a part of this."

  Jackson paused, tipping his head to one side. "All right. Maybe it's better if she and I meet alone. And she's so curious, I'm sure she'll come. I'd hate for you to give Katherine the wrong idea about me."

  Jackson's smile made Zach's stomach turn over. There was no way he could let Katherine meet his father on her own. "I'll be there."

  "I thought you would be. It will be our first family dinner."

  "She's not family.”

  Jackson shrugged. "We'll see."

  "Why did you have to come back? Why couldn't you just stay away from me?"

  "We're family, son. I love you. I was coming back to see you when I heard about Katherine. Fate."

  "Bullshit. Leave Katherine alone."

  Jackson shook his head in regret. "I can't do that. Katherine might very well be my daughter. Besides, you always wanted a family. Wouldn't a sister be just what the doctor ordered?" Jackson didn't wait for a reply. "I'll see you tomorrow night, son. And try to change the expression on your face before you come. I wouldn't want Miss Whitfield to think we aren't a loving father and son."

  "I'm not going to help you. I'm going to stop you.”

  Jackson's face lost all of its charm. His eyes turned to flint, his jaw to granite. "You'll help. Or have you forgotten what card I hold?"

  "You can't blackmail me forever."

  "Who says I can't?"

  "Harry Stanton wouldn't believe you anyway."

  "If you think I'm bluffing, let's put it to the test. Or is there a part of you that wonders if good old Harry would believe me -- if he'd turn you out on your ass faster than you could take your next breath if he knew you had anything to do with his wife's missing wedding ring?"

  "And you say you love me," he mocked. "How lucky I am."

  "You are lucky, boy. And you could get even luckier. I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't be late.”

  "Katherine may not come."

  "Oh, she'll come." Jackson's gleeful smile returned. "And we'll be waiting."

  Chapter Nine

  Dinner with Katherine and his father... Zach couldn't think of anything worse. In fact, he'd spent most of Saturday trying to find a way out, but it was now after six and he couldn't let Katherine face his father alone. Although he hated to let his father blackmail him, it wasn't the right time to take a stand. It was too close to the Derby; too close to the culmination of his dreams. He checked his watch again as he paced back and forth near the door. Damn his father and damn Katherine, too.

  If he had any sense, he'd let her deal with his father on her own. If she was so eager to pluck a father off the streets of Paradise, she'd have to learn to deal with the snakes that came up and bit her in the butt. Snakes like his father. His muscles tightened at the thought of Jackson and his claim to be Katherine's father.

  It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Zach didn't want her to be his sister. He wanted her to be his lover.

&nbs
p; The restaurant's front door opened and a chill ran down his spine. Katherine paused, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light, and in that moment he knew he was in big trouble. She looked so seductive, her blond hair billowing in a cloud around her shoulders, a red knit dress clinging to her breasts and her hips and her legs. Didn't the woman own anything dark and conservative?

  "Zach?" she said warily, as if she wasn't sure what either of them was doing there.

  "Katherine," he said through tight lips.

  "Am I late?" she asked, moving closer.

  "No." He had to force the word out. He'd never been a talker, but Katherine had a way of stealing all the breath out of his chest, making it difficult to think, much less speak.

  "It was nice of you to invite me to dinner."

  Her words reminded him that this was not a date, and he had to talk to her before his father arrived.

  "Kat--”

  "I didn't think I'd hear from you -- after yesterday."

  His gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth, to the lips he'd tasted far too long ago. "It was just a kiss," he said forcefully, trying to make himself believe it. "No big deal."

  She sent him a skeptical look. "I was there, remember?"

  "You felt what you wanted to feel."

  "Then why did you ask me to dinner? Zach, what's going on?”

  She opened her mouth to say something else, and he put a finger against her lips.

  He'd meant to tease her into quiet, but touching her mouth with his finger put his pulse into overdrive. He traced the line of her lips, the line his tongue had once tasted, the line he wanted to taste again.

  "Zach," she murmured in a husky voice.

  He didn't know what she was asking, so he couldn't begin to answer. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and shoved it into his pocket.

  "Mr. Tyler?" the hostess asked, looking at Zach. "Your table is ready."

  He wasn't ready for his table. He hadn't told Katherine about his father yet. "Before we sit down, I have to tell you something," he said hastily.

  "Tell me at the table.”

  Zach sighed as Katherine followed the hostess into the dining room. He'd had the foolish notion he could actually avoid sitting down to dinner with her, but he'd let himself get distracted. Now they were being seated in a dark corner and perusing the wine menu.

  His mind spun, as he searched for the right words to bring this dinner to an abrupt end. He hadn't anticipated Katherine looking so stunningly beautiful or so warmly appealing. Right now all he really wanted to do was sit and look at her in the candlelight.

  "Zach, when I was leaving the barns yesterday, I took a wrong turn, and I stumbled across this incredible garden," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "It was amazing, I've never seen so many flowers. Of course, the weeds are overrunning everything, but if someone took a little time, it could be spectacular. Do you know where it is? Have you seen it?"

  He couldn't help being taken in by the light in her eyes. Katherine had a passion for setting things right. She didn't see the dark side of life, only the good. In a weed-filled garden, she saw beauty. In an old love letter she saw her father. He couldn't help wondering what she saw when she looked at him.

  "Mrs. Stanton said I could do some work if I wanted to," she continued.

  He suddenly realized he'd lost half the conversation. "Mrs. Stanton? You saw Mrs. Stanton?"

  "Yes. She came into the garden. Haven't you been listening?"

  "I wish you hadn't gone there."

  "'Why?"

  "Because that garden was very special to the Stantons. I don't think they want people in there."

  "Mrs. Stanton said I could come back any time, that she'd welcome a little help with the garden. And she said you'd be happy to help me find the gardening tools."

  "Oh, hell, Katherine. How do you get yourself into the middle of everything?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "Why would you have a problem with me doing some gardening?"

  "Every time I turn around, I trip over you, but that's beside the point. I thought you were here to look for your father. Now you're going to spend your days weeding some garden? Why?"

  "Because it's there, and it needs me." Katherine tucked a piece of hair behind one ear in a gesture that was becoming endearingly familiar. "I know you don't get it. But at home, in California, everything runs smoothly without me. I've never felt needed, barely wanted, and ever since my mother died, I've been trying not to rock the boat. I was always afraid if I did, Mitchell would send me to a foster home. So I did everything I could do to make sure that didn't happen. That's why I went to work at his company. Coming here to Kentucky is the first thing I've done solely for myself, and maybe weeding that garden and restoring it to its former glory is meant to be the second thing."

  He liked her honesty. She might have grown up with money, but she'd missed out on family, and he knew how that felt.

  She cleared her throat and picked up her menu. "Maybe we should order now. I'm starving.”

  "Wait," Zach interrupted, suddenly realizing he'd gotten sidetracked, and his father was due to show up any second. "There's something I have to tell you."

  She sent him an expectant look. "What?"

  "I didn't make this dinner reservation. My father did. He used my name to lure you here. I only came to warn you not to listen to him.”

  "I don't understand.”

  "My dad heard you were looking for your father. I don't know how or when. As far as I knew, he was on the other side of the world or dead. But apparently he's here in Paradise, and he wants to meet you. His name is Jackson, with a J," Zach said pointedly.

  Confusion, then shock, filled her beautiful blue eyes, and Zach had the urge to take his words back. But he'd never believed in pulling off a Band-Aid slowly. Better to yank it off, get the pain over all at once.

  "What exactly are you saying?" she asked, that proud, vulnerable look on her face again, the one that made him think of a terrified puppy facing a German shepherd.

  Before he could reply, he saw his father out of the corner of his eye, approaching their table like a missile on target. "Just don't believe a word he says," Zach said quickly.

  "Zach--”

  Before she could finish her question, Jackson Tyler stopped next to the table, looking handsome and refined in a charcoal gray suit. Somewhere in his travels he'd obviously picked up some new threads.

  "Zachary. There you are." Jackson smiled at Zach, then at Katherine. "I trust my son has been entertaining you, Miss Whitfield. Allow me to introduce myself --Jackson Tyler." He offered her a small bow along with his hand.

  Katherine shook it somewhat warily. "You're Zach's father?"

  "Yes, I am, and--”

  "Don't say it, Pop," Zach interrupted. "Don't do this."

  His father ignored him. "Relax, Zach. We're all family now." Jackson looked at Katherine. "May I sit?"

  Katherine scooted closer to him as Jackson slid into the booth. Zach could feel the tension emanating from her stiffening body.

  "This is excellent," Jackson said with a beaming smile. "Our first family dinner."

  "I don't understand," Katherine said slowly.

  "Don't you, my dear? I'm your father."

  Her mouth dropped open. "My father? Oh, my God!" She sent Zach a wild, desperate look. "He's wrong, isn't he? Please tell me I'm not -- I can't be your sister. I just can't be."

  "Now, now. There's no reason to get hysterical," Jackson said soothingly. "I realize Zachary might not be your first choice for a brother, but he's not so bad."

  * * *

  Katherine heard Jackson's words, but they didn't make any sense. There was only one sentence going around in her head. I'm your father.

  She'd finally heard the magic words, but she'd never imagined how deeply they would hurt. She looked at Zach imploringly, willing him to tell her his father was making a joke, that there was no possible way they could be brother and sister. A sense of horror grew in her soul as she thought a
bout their kiss, the way his tongue had probed hers, his mouth warm and hot, his hands seeking, her body wanting...

  Zach took a deep breath, the pulse in his neck beating like wildfire as he fought some inner demon. Finally he looked at her -- then at his father.

  "It's no good, Pop," he said.

  "Tell her, Zach," Jackson said with steel in his eyes. "Tell her how much you want us to be a family. After all, you're entering an exciting time in your life. You have a horse that might win the Derby, and perhaps Stanton Farms will be yours after all these years. That is, as long as you stay on Harry's good side. Katherine will want to share in that."

  Zach stared at his father as if he hated him. Katherine could see it in the way his eyes blazed and his hands clenched on top of the tablecloth. There was more going on between the two of them than she could understand.

  "Katherine won't be sharing in anything," Zach said tersely.

  "Now, Zach, don't forget our little understanding."

  Zach turned to Katherine. "He's not your father. It's a con. He heard you were rich and looking for your old man. He figured he could sell you your dream. But it won't come cheap, Kat. Don't buy in to it. You deserve better."

  Her heart caught in her throat at his last words. You deserve better. No one had ever thought she deserved more. Looking at the two angry men, she had a feeling it would cost Zach more than she knew.

  "Don't listen to Zach, Miss Whitfield. He's afraid I'll leave everything to you, instead of to him," Jackson said.

  "Leave what to me? You don't have anything," Zach said.

  Jackson ignored him, turning to Katherine. "I believe your mother's name was Evelyn Jones."

  She nodded, feeling panicked by his words. "Yes."

  "I knew her. Only she didn't call herself Evelyn then. She had another name."

  "What?" Katherine whispered.

  Jackson smiled, looking as if he were beginning to enjoy the evening. "Now, I'd be happy to tell you everything. But not tonight. Not until we make ourselves a little deal."

  "That's it." Zach stood up and grabbed Katherine's hand, pulling her out of the booth along with him. "You don't need to listen to any more lies."