"We don't," Claire said. "If we did--”
"I would have killed him," Harry finished.
Katherine saw the cold anger in his eyes and began to understand why her mother had kept that one secret to herself.
Chapter Twenty-One
Zach entered his house feeling stunned and stupid for ever having thought the Stantons would leave their prize possession to him. He wasn't of their blood. Hadn't he learned by now that blood was everything? You couldn't escape the people you were tied to, no matter how hard you tried. There was only one thing to do. Leave.
He walked into the bedroom and pulled a canvas duffel bag out of his closet and began to toss his clothes inside. He wasn't going to abandon ship totally, not until the Stantons had someone to take his place. He was too professional to leave them in the lurch after everything they'd done for him. But he didn't have to live on their land, in their house, as if he were family.
He'd go into Louisville and find a motel room for himself. Maybe even stay at Veronica's. What the hell -- there was no point in distancing himself from his father anymore. No point at all.
The pounding on his front door brought his head around, but he made no move to answer it. He knew who it was, and he didn't care. Katherine had lied to him. She'd slept with him knowing that she was a Stanton, that she could take everything he'd ever wanted.
"Open up, Zach," she yelled. "I know you're in there."
He ignored her, intent on stuffing everything he could into his bag. He grabbed a shirt up off the bed where he'd tossed it, and the lavender scent hit him in the face, in the heart. His shirt smelled like Katherine. His bed smelled like Katherine. He couldn't get away from her. She was everywhere he breathed. Damn her.
The pounding stopped, and he sighed with relief. Good, she was gone. The next thing he heard was a crash in the living room. He rushed into the living room to see Katherine climbing through the window. Her blond hair fell about her face as she got herself stuck in the narrow frame, half in, half out.
She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Help me out here, Zach."
"Why should I?"
Katherine squirmed relentlessly against the window frame, determination etched in her eyes.
"You should have made up a list before climbing through my window," he said, refusing to weaken. "Or maybe you made a list last night. Let's see. How would it go? Pros for sleeping with Zach. Number one, great sex. Number two, you can play boss and I can play farmhand."
"Stop it. That's not the way it was, and you know it," she snapped as one last wiggle got her jeans-clad butt through the window.
He stuck his hands into his pocket, refusing to catch her. In fact, he quite enjoyed seeing her fall flat on her face.
Katherine got to her feet, her hair tangled about her face, fire in her beautiful blue eyes, and he almost weakened. Almost. Then he remembered everything he was about to lose.
"You have to listen to me," she said.
"Oh, now you feel like talking," he scoffed. "How convenient. I guess there just wasn't time last night or this morning before you snuck out."
"I didn't know how to tell you," she said softly, putting out a hand in entreaty. "I just found out yesterday. Remember when I came to your door and you said I looked shocked? I was in a daze. Claire Stanton came to me yesterday afternoon. In fact, I think your father sent her there."
He'd known Jackson had had a hand in this. The old man had been angry with his interference, so he'd played the game another way, paying off Zach at the same time he'd set up Katherine and Claire.
"Claire saw my hope chest, my quilt," Katherine continued. "She said it was Margaret's. She showed me a photograph of Margaret, and it was my mother, Zach. Do you know how I felt? Realizing that my mother had a life she'd never told me about?"
He didn't want to think about how Katherine had felt. He didn't want to feel anything for her. "You always knew she had another life. Too bad it wasn't what you expected," he said coldly.
"I can't help being a Stanton any more than you can help being a Tyler."
"I've got packing to do." He returned to the bedroom, hoping she'd just go. Of course, she didn't. Instead she followed him, leaning against the doorjamb, watching as he threw clothes into his bag.
"Where are you going?"
"To the track."
"And after that?"
"Don't know."
"You can't leave. This is your home. Your life.”
"It's yours now."
"I don't want it, Zach."
He looked at her and saw the way she dropped her gaze from him. "You want it. It's what you came looking for -- a home, a family, roots."
"I don't want you to go." She walked over to him. "I love you, Zach. I know you heard me say it this morning. It's the truth."
His heart twisted into a knot, and he had to fight hard to stop himself from telling her he loved her back. "Love is easy to find in the middle of an orgasm."
"That's not fair, nor is it true."
"Well, life isn't fair, in case you haven't noticed. I've spent eighteen years breaking my back to make this farm a success, and along comes a long-lost granddaughter, and I'm out and you're in. You want to talk about fair?"
"I'll leave. I'll go back to California. I'll tell Harry and Claire right now." She turned to go and he caught her by the arm.
"Don't bother, Katherine. Harry will leave you the farm whether you want it or not, whether you're here in Kentucky or back in California. You'll have to come back. You'll have to take it over, because you're a Stanton, because it's your duty."
"I'll tell him not to leave it to me. I'll convince him. You'll see."
"The same way Margaret convinced him to let her stay and have her baby in Paradise?"
Katherine stared back at him. "There has to be a way to make this right."
"There is a way. You stay and I'll leave."
"We could both stay," she said tentatively. "Claire wants to get to know me. And you're right. I do want a chance to know my grandparents, at least a little better than I know them now. But that desire doesn't have anything to do with my taking over this farm."
"It has everything to do with the farm. What do you think a stud farm is all about, Kat? It's about bloodlines. That's our business. That's who we are. That's who Harry is. I was dreaming to think he'd ever leave this place to me. And he shouldn't, because it's yours. You're the Stanton. I'm just the son of a thief."
"You're a lot more than that." She stared into his eyes. "I'm not about money. You know that, Zach. I came looking for a family, not an inheritance."
"Well, it looks like you're lucky enough to get both."
"And it looks like you're using this as a reason to walk away from me."
He picked up his bag. "I told you before, I don't have anything to offer you. I have even less now."
"Don't say that." Tears filled her beautiful blue eyes. "Don't leave, Zach. I'm begging you."
His resolve started to weaken at the look of love in her eyes. "Don't you have any pride, Kat?"
"Apparently the Stantons didn't pass that gene on to me. I didn't come here to ruin your life."
"It doesn't matter."
"Obviously it matters a great deal."
"Katherine, I need to figure out what I'm going to do next. I have to get Rogue to the Derby, and then there's the Belmont. After that, I don't know. I want my own place. I want to run my own farm. And if it can't be here, then I have to find somewhere else. But one thing is certain, I can't stop and figure out the rest of my life right now."
"I'm not giving up on you, Zach. I'm not going to repeat my mother's mistakes and run away because things are hard. I'm not going to keep living a life that doesn't make me happy. I want you in my life. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen."
"I'm not worth it, Kat."
"Yes you are.”
"You have a bad habit of wanting to believe the best of people."
"And you always want to believe the wors
t. Together we might be able to make sense. Think about it."
* * *
Katherine drove back to town, her stomach churning. She'd never imagined her search for her father would lead to grandparents and an inheritance or that finding her family would put her at war with the man she'd fallen in love with. Zach had told her that whether she stayed or left, Harry would still make her his heir, and she suspected he was right. But it was wrong for her grandfather to take Zach out of his will, just because he wasn't blood. He was still family.
Zach loved Claire and Harry. And he felt betrayed, not because he was losing money or land, but because he was losing the two people he cared most about. She'd changed their relationship forever. And no matter what she did, she couldn't change the facts. She was a Stanton as unbelievable as that was.
By the time she reached the main streets of Paradise she had a pounding headache and an unaccustomed craving for a very large glass of bourbon.
She stopped the car in front of the hotel, dropped off the keys to Maggie, and then walked over to Golden's.
"Hey there, Katherine," Justin said with a cheerful smile as she walked up to the bar and slid onto the stool. "What can I get for you?"
"A bourbon on the rocks."
"You're starting to sound like a real Kentucky woman."
"I'm starting to feel like one, too."
"Any new clues on your father?" Justin asked as he fixed her a drink and pushed it across the counter.
She started, suddenly realizing how much had happened since she'd gone through the photographs in his back room. "As a matter of fact, I did find out something."
"No kidding? What?"
"Well..." She hesitated and then took a sip of her bourbon. The strong liquor sent a shock wave through her system, and she had to cough.
Justin smiled, waiting for her to compose herself. He got her a glass of water and removed the bourbon. "Somehow I think you'll like this better.”
"It just went down the wrong way," she lied.
"I'm sure it did."
She took a grateful sip of water and smiled at him. "You're a nice man."
"I know a drinker when I see one, and you're not one. So why the bourbon?"
"I've had a lot of shocks lately. I found out that my mother is -- was Margaret Stanton."
Justin's eyebrows shot up. "Margaret Stanton?" He shook his head again. "That's unbelievable."
"Did you know Margaret?"
"Everyone knew Margaret. She was a couple of grades behind me in school, but she got around."
"Are you saying that in a good way?"
"Absolutely. Margaret was beautiful and impulsive and always looking for excitement. I figured she left town to find some new adventure. Although, all kinds of stories went around after she took off." He stopped and stared at her. "But Margaret was buried--”
"She's not buried here in Paradise. That was just Mr. Stanton's way of calling off the search. He put an empty casket into the ground."
"Claire must be beside herself."
"She's not too happy with her husband, but she stuck by him all these years, and she seems to be sticking by him now.”
"So who's your father?" Justin asked, resting his elbows on the bar.
He seemed casually curious, nothing more, but still there was a note in his voice, a wariness that Katherine couldn't overlook. Was Justin hiding something behind his easygoing manner?
"I don't know yet," she replied. "Claire and I need to talk some more and go through the things in the hope chest."
Justin nodded. "Do you have any other clues?"
"Not really. A cuff link," she said, watching his face carefully. She felt a tingle run down her spine that couldn't be explained.
Justin picked up a cloth and wiped down the bar. "What kind of a cuff link?"
"Gold and black. But it doesn't matter. I can hardly go around checking everyone's cuff links."
"Now, that would raise some eyebrows.”
"Margaret must have come in here with my father. She had so many napkins from the bar, dates scribbled on them."
"Margaret came in here all the time. She was a regular."
"Then why wasn't she in any of the photos?"
"She didn't like having her picture taken. I don't think she wanted her father to know she was in here."
"Did you ever see her with any man in particular?"
"I don't remember. It was a long time ago. And even if I told you that Margaret was in here with some guy, that wouldn't mean he was your father."
"It might give me someone else to talk to. What about J.T.? Was he friends with Margaret?"
"Margaret knew J.T., but you won't be able to talk to him for awhile. He had a heart attack yesterday."
"What?" Katherine felt another shock wave rip through her body. "Is he all right?"
"I think he will be.”
She sat back in her chair. "I hope so." And she really hoped that his heart attack didn't have anything to do with her presence in town.
* * *
It was after four o'clock on Thursday when Jimmy finally returned home. Leeanne had just about driven herself over the edge waiting for him, wondering if she had the guts to confront him about his affair.
When he walked through their living room door and set his briefcase down on the hall table as he'd done every day of their lives for the past twenty-six years, she saw the weary lines in his face and an apology in his eyes. Maybe she wouldn't have to ask. Maybe he would finally confess.
"Leeanne," he said quietly as he walked into the living room and stood across from her. He tugged at the knot in his tie. "I'm glad you're here."
"Are you? Why?"
He pulled the tie off of his neck and tossed it over the back of the chair. "I have something to tell you."
She wanted to stand up, so he wouldn't be looking down at her, so she wouldn't feel so small. But she was afraid to be standing when he told her whatever he had to tell her. She swallowed back a thick lump of worry. "Would you sit down?"
He hesitated, then sat in the chair next to her. "I told you the other day that I'd never heard of an Evelyn Jones. But I was lying."
"You were?" Her heart started beating so fast, she was afraid she might wind up in the hospital with J.T.
"Yes. We dated years ago. We broke up when I met you. In fact, you were the reason we split up."
"You never told me you were seeing someone else back then."
"She was living in Lexington at the time. We'd dated in college. I used to go in on weekends after I graduated. Margaret and I used to share the drive."
"Is that why you thought Katherine Whitfield might be your daughter?" she asked boldly. "Don't try to deny it, Jimmy. I followed you."
Jimmy looked at her in shock. "You followed me to Lexington? You were there?"
"On the porch. I heard you ask that woman if she'd had a baby, your baby."
Regret filled his eyes. "There was a chance, especially with the name. And the way Katherine looked, blond hair, blue eyes... But Evie assured me that she'd never had a baby, that she would have told me."
"Who were those other kids in her house?"
"They were her kids. Evie's. She got married ten years ago. I hadn't seen her since before our wedding until yesterday. You have to believe that."
She searched his eyes for the truth, and as always, she found it. This was Jimmy, practical, dependable, trustworthy Jimmy. This was the man who had never lied to her. But... Her mind ran off in another direction. Margaret had taken an alias when she left town.
"Jimmy," she began. "Did you know that when Margaret left town, she took the name Evelyn Jones?"
Jimmy looked at her in bewilderment. "Excuse me?"
"She took the name of Evelyn Jones. Margaret is Katherine Whitfield's mother."
"That's impossible."
"It's not. Claire told me and Mary Jo the whole story. Mary Jo thought that J.T. might be Katherine's father as well, seeing as how his name starts with a J just like yours. But no
w that we know that Evelyn is really Margaret, it puts a whole new twist on things." She watched his face carefully, noting his nervous agitation, his disbelieving eyes. "Maybe it puts a new spin on things for you, too."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because." She paused, feeling like she was poised on the edge of a sheer cliff. She didn't want to jump, but she had to. "If you were driving into Lexington with Margaret, I'm thinking there's a possibility you slept with her, too."
"Leeanne! How can you say that?"
"I followed you into Lexington yesterday and caught you in a lie. Why shouldn't I believe there's another lie, another secret?"
"Because there isn't."
"Oh, come on. Why would Margaret take Evelyn's name when she left town?" She didn't wait for him to answer, imagination taking flight. "My guess is she wanted to remember you. Maybe she wanted you to come looking for her. Maybe you're the only one who knew where she was. Can you really sit here and tell me there is no way you could be Katherine Whitfield's father?"
Chapter Twenty-Two
Friday and Saturday passed in a blur for Katherine. She spent hours with Claire in Margaret's old bedroom, looking through scrapbooks, listening to stories, glancing through books and old record albums, watching home movies, and even trying on some of Margaret's clothes. While she's spoken to Harry a few times, she still didn't understand her grandfather. She didn't trust him, and she wasn't sure he trusted her. But Claire was different. Claire was the grandmother Katherine had always wanted. Claire had open arms and teary eyes and a loving heart, and she seemed willing to accept Katherine for whoever she was. It was a heady experience feeling unconditional love. Obviously Margaret hadn't received such love from her parents, but Katherine was reaping the benefit of that painful rift. And she couldn't stop herself from letting the affection warm her chilled heart.
She avoided the barns completely. Even though she'd heard Zach had moved into a motel by Churchill Downs, she hadn't wanted to take a chance on running into him on one of his stops in at the farm office. She'd also avoided seeing anyone in town, only going back to the hotel to sleep.
By Sunday her oasis of privacy was over. For above all things, all personal secrets, all revelations, the Derby took precedence, and Sunday night was the night of the yearly Stanton pre-Derby party. It was a tradition, Claire had told her, one that had gone on for more than fifty years. Everyone in the valley would be there along with horse owners from all over the world. It was a tradition Katherine desperately wanted to miss.
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