Carson paced by again, not noticing the door was ajar. The anguish on his face surprised her. So the pretty boy had problems just like the common folk. Imagine that?
He muttered a few more indecipherable sentences and flipped the cell phone shut. His shoulders slumped, and his expression seemed baffled. Sam fought an urge to wrap her arms around him and absorb some of his pain. How utterly stupid. She wasn’t the comforting type, and he wasn’t the type to be comforted.
She heard more footsteps then heard Matt Brandland’s voice. Dr. Matt was her long-time veterinarian and something of a friend. Carson had met him a few days ago. “Carson, what a surprise to find you here so late at night. Is everything okay?”
“I was going to ask the same of you. Making a house call?”
“Vets always make house calls. Our patients rarely come to us.”
Carson chuckled. “I can imagine. Is there a problem with one of the horses?”
“Burke had a horse with a bit of colic earlier. I’m just checking him out.” Dr. Brandland peered into the stall next to Gabbie’s. “He seems fine.”
Sam strained to hear more as the voices faded down the aisle way. How odd Burke hadn’t mentioned an issue with one of his horses when she’d talked to him a few hours ago.
“Good night, Carson. I think I’ll head off to bed.”
Carson called goodnight. Sam peaked around the corner of the door. He stood near Gabbie’s stall. He waited until the vet’s truck drove down the driveway then reached in his pockets. He took out a breath mint and offered it to the mare. Gabbie sniffed at the strange offering and lipped it off his palm. She made a great show as she chewed it then frisked him with her big nose for more food. He laughed as she pushed at him. Carson stroked her neck and straightened her mane. Gabbie pressed her face into his shoulder. He leaned his head against her neck, talking in a low voice. It wasn’t right to witness such a private moment between a man and his horse, but she couldn’t make herself look away.
“You don’t know how good you have it, girl.” Carson straightened and scratched her behind the ears. “Who in the hell would’ve ever guessed I’d have a horse as a pet.” He shook his head in disbelief, patted Gabbie one final time, and left the barn.
Sam heard the crunch of tires as he drove down the driveway.
Chapter 9—Family Ties That Bind and Choke
The next evening, Carson found himself in his brother’s living room. He wished he’d done an unCarsonlike thing and feigned an acute illness caused by some air-born plague.
Harlee’s rat dog, Igor, was perched on the nearby chair. The dog’s beady little eyes assessed him as if he expected Carson to steal the silverware. He glared at the dog, and the little shit growled at him.
Carson brushed some lint—or was it dog hair—from the couch then decided to stand. He looked around the room at the seventies decor. An epitome of bad taste, Carson would’ve torched it if it’d been his. Yet, his sister-in-law didn’t seem to notice, and his youngest brother didn’t seem to care.
This big sprawling ranch house had been part of a grand estate in the sixties. Now it resembled a grand step back in time to a day when tacky was king, right down to the overdone Mediterranean cabinets, orange countertops, and avocado appliances. The only thing it had going for it was a view. Acres and acres of untouched farmland and forest spread in every direction. In the distance Mt. Rainier dominated the skyline. Views like this, once commonplace, were now rare in Western Washington.
Carson sipped his wine—he’d brought his own bottle—and stared out the window. Igor tapped his leg with one hairy paw, ready to make up. Carson bent down and absently scratched the ugly little canine, and wished he were anywhere else.
He’d accepted this invitation to dinner because Bridget was back from Europe. She’d expect nothing less than her brothers’ full attention as she held court and recounted her adventures. To decline would have caused him more grief than it was worth.
Besides, after the encounter with Juan, the meeting with Ed, followed by a guilt-ridden conversation with his mother, it was already a shitty week. He might as well end it on a lower note.
* * * *
Bridget didn’t stop talking from the moment she walked in the door, which was fine with Carson. He ate the cholesterol-laden meal in relative peace. Harlee could cook, even if every bite hardened his arteries to the danger point.
Harlee served after-dinner drinks and dessert at the table. His sister’s chattering fizzled, and she became unusually silent. His siblings cast nervous, covert glances at each other.
Only then did Carson clue in to trouble being afoot. He’d walked into a trap with no immediate way out. He braved the silence for several moments and waited for one of them to muster some courage. It didn’t happen.
Carson sighed and accepted his fate. “Okay, spill it.”
Bridget swallowed and wrung her hands. Brad tapped his foot, looked out the window, and whistled as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Harlee concentrated on painting her fingernails bright red. Jake tipped a beer to his lips and gulped down half the bottle.
Carson had had enough. “Cut that out!” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward.
“Cut what out?” Jake put down his beer and looked at him.
“That. What you’re doing.” Carson pointed an accusing finger at his youngest brother.
“I’m not doing anything except drinking. But hey, that’s me—the bad boy of the family.”
“You’re nervous. Around me, of all people.”
“I’m not nervous. Hell, I’ve known you all my life. You’ve never made me nervous.” Jake twisted his napkin in knots as he avoided Carson’s gaze.
“I am now for some reason.” Carson’s accusing glare took in all his siblings.
Brad slumped in his chair and studied the label on his beer. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dammit, quit treating me like a stranger. It’s me, Carson, your big brother. Remember, the tight ass?”
Jake almost laughed. “Yeah, I remember.”
Carson pointed an accusing finger at his youngest brother. “I’m the guy that taught you how to play ball...”
“You told me to catch that damn football, or you’d ram it down my throat.”
Carson turned to Brad, the middle brother and Bridget’s twin. “And you how to fish...”
Brad sat up straighter. “You threatened to use me for bait.”
His sister was next. “And you how to swim...”
“You threw me in the deep end of the pool and waited for me to drown.”
“Well, you’re all here, aren’t you?”
“No thanks to you.” Brad grinned. “A guy can’t pick his relatives.”
“Guess not.” Carson pursed his lips. “What the hell is going on?”
The sibs exchanged guilty looks. Jake must have lost the silent contest of wills. “Car, we need to talk about Mom and Dad.”
Carson sighed with resignation. “I knew this was coming.” He just hadn’t expected it tonight. He’d counted on Bridget being selfish enough to insist the entire night revolve around her. It was a major miscalculation on his part.
“You know Dad’s not well.” Bridget’s accusatory tone made him feel as if he was personally responsible. So far, so bad.
“Yeah, so I hear.” Now he was the one picking at the label on his beer, and cheap beer at that. The twins had wolfed down his bottle of good wine before he’d had more than a sip.
“Well, he had another incident a few days ago. He ended up spending the night in the hospital.”
A few days ago? After they’d had their little discussion? Carson stuffed his guilt into a box and sat on it, attempting to silence that annoying and persistent voice. That particular emotion had become far too familiar to him lately. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“His doctor says he needs to cut back. He’s under severe stress, with Reynolds Corporation doing so poorly and all.” For extra effect, Bridget wiped a lone tear fr
om her cheek. “Mom wants him to retire, but he won’t. Not without someone he trusts taking over the reins.”
Jake rose to his feet and gave Carson another beer. As if getting him drunk would make any difference. “You have to come back.”
“You—” Carson stood and poked Jake in the chest, but his younger brother held his ground. “—have to rise to the occasion. Handle it. All of you. Not me. I’m out of it.”
“You’d endanger Dad’s health for your own selfish revenge?”
“Bridget, revenge has nothing to do with it.”
“How can you be so cold-hearted, Carson?” His sister, in full drama queen mode, sniffed and wiped another tear.
“I’m not. He doesn’t want me.” Carson leaned against the china cabinet, crossed his arms over his chest, and regarded them with irritation.
“He all but begged you to come back.” Jake accused.
“Who told you that?”
“Mom. She’s disappointed in you.”
“Mom put you up to this, didn’t she?” The siblings exchanged knowing looks. “Why isn’t she here instead of the Reynolds Gang?”
Three sets of shoulders shrugged, while three sets of eyes looked everywhere but at him.
“Why didn’t she call me and tell me about Dad?”
Again, there was no answer.
“I did see him last Friday night. He did ask me to come back, take over Cedrona, but he wasn’t even close to begging. In fact, quite the opposite.” Carson sat down on the edge of his chair, leaned forward, and pierced each of them with a homicidal glare.
“Well, with Dad it’s hard to tell. He probably was begging. After all, the health of The Empire is at stake.” Brad had christened Reynolds Corporation “The Empire” when they’d been small kids. Back then it’d been the Evil Empire because it devoured their father’s every waking hour and kept him away from home; now it appeared to be devouring his health, too.
“Don’t you understand? Any of you? I can’t do it. I can’t work with him again. One of you can step up to the plate.” Carson addressed Jake. “If you don’t want to do it, let Brad.”
“Brad’s too irresponsible.” Jake pointed out.
“Now, wait a minute.” Brad stepped in to complain. “That’s not true. I just have some big projects that need my attention. You’re the one, big brother.”
“Forget it. How about you, Bridget?” As if he didn’t already know that answer.
“Bridget’s too flakey.” Both brothers responded in unison.
“I am not—”
Brad cut her off. “Okay, fine. If you won’t do it for Dad or us, do it for your own gain. Money, for one. Besides,” Brad had an evil gleam in his eye. “you, dear big brother...” Brad spread his arms wide to take in the room and the great outdoors. “...would enjoy hoofing it with nature.”
Not a great choice of words in Carson’s opinion. “Sorry. This is not for me. I’m a city boy. Dust makes me sneeze, and I can’t stand the smell of horses. Give me smog any day.”
“Yeah, well, you sure find reasons to hang around here.” Leave it to Jake to expose his weakness.
“I’m protecting my investment.”
“Bullshit.”
Bridget sniffled and grabbed Jake’s arm. “I knew this was a mistake. We’ll have to make it without him.” Her eyes gleamed with wet tears. She looked up at Carson. “I’m sorry, Carson. It’s too much to impose on you like this. Please forgive us.”
Carson narrowed his eyes. Bridget was such an excellent actress; he often had a hard time determining her sincerity. Another tear slid down her check, formed a drop on her chin, and fell to the floor. “Daddy’s going to die if we don’t relieve the pressure and rescue The Empire.” She choked back a convincing sob.
“It’s okay, Bridge, we’ll figure out something. We’ll stick together and find a way without Carson.” Brad patted her shoulder and adopted a concerned expression. “After all, we are family.” The accusing arrow he shot his oldest brother hit its mark. Guilt stabbed through Carson’s body. Obviously, their mother wasn’t the only one who was good at dishing out the guilt.
“Poor Daddy.” Bridget wailed as if someone had murdered her best friend. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. “He’s not going to make it another year with the stress he’s under. And Mom, she won’t be able to survive without Daddy. We’ll all be orphans. But I understand. You have your pride to think about.” Bridget buried her face in her twin’s shoulder and bawled like a sick calf.
Carson’s stomach lurched despite his sister’s overdone dramatics. No one in the family had ever been able to deny the Reynolds’ family princess when she turned on the tears.
Okay, heel time. As in he was a big one. All he had to do was oversee the building of an equestrian center for a year. It couldn’t be that difficult. There was the small matter of the budget and the not-so-small matter of dealing with Bridget, but he could do both and prove his mettle in the process. If he pulled this off, his dad would never be able to deny his abilities.
Hell, when he’d been with Reynolds Corporation, he’d built multi-million dollar office buildings and luxury condos. Horses would be no-brainer clients. Literally. This would be child’s play. He’d get outside a little, too, maybe get a real tan. He hadn’t tanned since his college baseball days. Besides, his guilt could use a reprieve. As an added bonus, he’d see to it the brewery was part of the deal—somehow. Reynolds Corporation might be in a financial bind right now, but his dad still had clout. With his backing, he’d be able to swing financing. It was a win-win, right?
“Okay, I’ll—”
Brad interrupted him. “You’re wasting your tears, Bridget. Carson doesn’t have the guts.”
“What?” His brief feeling of goodwill vanished in a haze of anger.
Brad blew him off and turned to Jake. “It’s just like Dad said. Carson’s not a risk-taker. He won’t move out of his comfort zone. Everything has to be safe, tidy, and a proven moneymaker. Cedrona will require determination and imagination to make it work. Good ol’ Car isn’t exactly proficient in those areas.”
“Now wait a minute. I said I’d—”
“Yeah, I know,” Jake agreed. “Sorry, Car, we shouldn’t ask you to take chances. We know you aren’t comfortable in that type of situation.”
About ready to spit nails, Carson fumed. “I said I’d do it! Damn it!”
The siblings froze, as if they couldn’t believe he’d given in that easily. For a split second, silence reigned, but Bridget cracked first. Emotional control had never been her forte.
“Oh, Carson!” His sister flew at him and threw her arms around his neck. All traces of tears had vanished. “This is so wonderful. I can’t wait to tell you about Mom’s and my plans for the place. We have such grand ideas.”
“Yeah, and no money,” Carson reminded her dryly.
“We’ll get money. I’m looking into grants and investors. Just wait. You’ll see.”
“Grants? For an elite horse facility that caters to the wealthy?”
Bridget shrugged.
The brothers crowded around, pushing Bridget out of the way and slapping him on the back.
“I knew you wouldn’t back down from a real challenge, Bro,” Jake grinned and turned to Brad, holding out his hand. “Pay up, Brad. I win.”
Shit, they’d actually bet on his response. Brothers, you can’t live with them, and you can’t murder them.
Jake pumped Carson’s hand. “Carson, you’ll love it here. It’s so much more peaceful than your downtown condo.”
“And your spirit needs a rest,” Bridget added. Her hysterics had mysteriously disappeared the moment he’d caved.
“Huh? My spirit likes asphalt, traffic noise, and crowds.” Carson’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as he regarded his siblings. He must have heard them incorrectly.
“Really. You’ll love it here.”
“I’m not staying here.” Carson’s gaze swept the tacky room with distaste. He hated orange.
&
nbsp; “Someone in the family needs to stay here. We’re moving out this weekend. It’s all yours. It’ll be much better with you on-site.”
“Where are you going?”
“Harlee and I are spending the next year in the San Juans while I work on some projects for Reynolds Corporation.”
“It’ll be a working vacation,” Harlee added.
“That’s nice, I’m happy for you, but I’m not staying here. I’m just building a barn and horse arena. Nothing else.”
“Oh, we forgot to mention that you’re overseeing the current business, too. You’ll need to be nearby.”
“What’s wrong with Juan?”
“Besides the obvious?”
“I’m sure that doesn’t affect his job performance.”
“He manages the day-to-day stuff, such as seeing that all the stalls are cleaned and the horses turned out and fed. All you have to worry about is the maintenance and the financial aspects. There’s really not much to do. The place practically manages itself. In the meantime, you’ll get a good feel for how an equestrian center runs firsthand. It’s valuable experience for the new facility.”
“Bridget can do it. She’s the horsewoman.”
“Oh, no, I can’t. You want me to manage money? I’m flakey and irresponsible. You’ve said so yourself, many times. Don’t worry. I’ll offer plenty of advice.”
“But, I—”
Jake pressed the house key in Carson’s hand and shoved him out the door. “You can move in anytime next weekend. We’ll leave the furniture for you.”
The door slammed in Carson’s face. He heard a cheer on the other side of the door. He’d been had. His family had sucked him back into their affairs. And damn, it felt good. It also felt terrifying.
Chapter 10—Going for a Ride
“He’s going to be living in your house on this property?” Sam propped her hands on her hips and stared at her friend.
“He wasn’t thrilled at first but he finally agreed to it.” Harlee smiled in triumph, as if she was making Sam’s day instead of ruining it. “He has to work out the details with his father, but that’s just a formality.”
The Gift Horse Page 7
