“Just his suspicions. That you’d come back to the old man for more money, he’d turned you down and you killed him.”
It was so absurd she couldn’t get up even a little outrage. In fact, she nearly laughed aloud. “Based on what?”
“I told you, he saw you in town.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “That’s it.”
She blinked. Drew back slightly. “So your brother’s accusation that I kidnapped and murdered your father is based solely on the fact that I’m still alive and in Dallas?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, gee,” she drawled, “I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe it, then.”
She thought she saw one corner of his mouth twitch. “You’ve gotten cheeky.”
“If you mean I don’t let fear run my life, then yes, I guess so. I’ve lived there, and I’m never going back.” She turned in the chair to face him head-on. “I never lied to you, T.C. I meant everything I said and did.”
“But you still left.”
“I explained why. If my child’s well-being isn’t enough reason for you, so be it.”
“You could have come to me.”
“And you would have been trapped between me and your parents. How would that have worked out?”
His jaw tightened. “We’ll never know, will we? Since you didn’t trust me enough to even give me the chance.”
“If it had just been me, I would have. But your mother’s threats to Emma changed everything.”
He let out a long breath but said nothing. He turned his gaze out over the land she knew he loved more than any material thing in this world. She wondered what was in his mind now, what he wasn’t saying. He’d always said she’d read him too well, but right now he could have been a blank book for all she could tell.
After a long, silent moment, she asked, “Did you wonder? If Fowler was right?”
“For maybe a minute.”
She appreciated that he didn’t deny he had wondered at all, but then, T.C. always was honest. Unlike his scheming brother. “I’m glad you came to the right conclusion.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “You told the truth about the money.”
So, she thought. He’d pulled some of those vast Colton strings and checked up on her story. She should have known he would. Not that it mattered, since it had been all true.
“Yes.”
“You really never touched it.”
“It’s not mine. In my mind, it never was.”
And neither were you. You were my impossible dream. And then reality bit.
“It would have made your life easier.”
“I didn’t want easier.”
He studied her for a moment. She could see him thinking, assessing. And as usual, when he arrived at his conclusion, he was right.
“Self-punishment, Jolie?”
She gave a half shrug. She looked out over the terrain because she couldn’t face him just now. “I was doing something I would probably find...shameful, if not despicable, in someone else. I let myself be bullied, when I swore I never would again.”
“Because of Emma.”
A vision of her sweet, innocent child formed in her mind. She smiled, because she always did when she thought of her sweet girl. “She doesn’t deserve to suffer for my poor choices in life.”
He straightened. “So that’s what I was? A poor choice?”
Jolie’s gaze snapped to his face. “I was talking about her father.”
His gaze narrowed for an instant, he started to speak, stopped, then said—and rather lamely, for him—“Oh.” There was another long silence before he said, “You never talked about him much except to say he wasn’t in the picture.”
“I don’t talk about the time I crashed my foster dad’s car when I was twelve, either.”
“I’ll bet that went over well.”
She heard the smile in his voice. Supposed that for a Colton, wrecking a car was no big deal.
“It was a good thing he was a dog lover,” she said.
“Let me guess. You swerved to avoid one?”
She shook her head. “I was trying to take one to the vet. He got hit in front of the house, and no one would help.”
“Even your foster dad?”
“He was sick by then.” Her lips tightened at the memory. “Really sick. He couldn’t do anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So was I. He was the best. Living with them was the only time I really felt like I had a home. They wanted to adopt me, but then he got cancer.”
He was quiet for a moment before he said, “You’ve never told me any of this. All you ever said was that being in the system sucked.”
“It did.”
“And that’s why you’re so determined Emma will have a better life.”
She met his gaze, nodded. “She will never, ever have to live like that.”
“So you really did do it for her.”
“I would do anything for her.”
Something flashed in his eyes, something quick, urgent, and as hot as a Texas summer sky. And suddenly it was all there again, hovering between them, the fire they’d found together, the unexpected bliss that had had her thinking of forever for the first time in her troubled life.
He repeated what he’d said earlier, in the same flat tone. “Would you.”
And again it wasn’t really a question. But this time the rumbling undertone from deep in his chest set every one of her long-dormant senses reeling. Because that was how he’d said her name when they were locked together, when his body was moving on her and in her, when he’d sent her spiraling toward that explosion of exquisite sensation she’d only ever known with him.
Was he asking if she would sleep with him again, in return for his help? The man she’d loved never would, but after what she’d done to him, maybe he wasn’t that man anymore.
And God help her, if he did ask, would she?
The thought of experiencing that joy even just one more time was more tempting than she could have ever imagined. And the pain afterward would be even worse than it had been, she told herself, fighting her own response to the images that flashed through her mind.
She struggled to find something, anything to say. And then he rose abruptly, putting an end to the moment with a harsh reminder of the turn her life had taken. “You’d better think about talking to that lawyer. Fowler’s got a lot of pull in this town.”
“I don’t have a lawyer.” She hated how helpless she sounded, but it was the truth. “I’m not sure I even know anyone with a lawyer.”
He chuckled, but it was not an amused sound. “You know me. And the Coltons have a cadre of them.”
Her mouth twisted wryly. “The kind who’d deal with murder accusations?”
He looked thoughtful at that. “I’ll talk to Hugh Barrington, Dad’s guy. He’ll likely know someone.”
“You don’t have to—” She stopped herself, realizing if Fowler was determined to throw her to the wolves, she would need the best help she could get. She couldn’t afford it of course, but she could afford to go to jail and have Emma go straight into the very system she loathed even less. She would just have to find a way.
“Thank you,” she said instead.
He looked at her for a long moment, a touch of wonder in his eyes that she didn’t understand.
“You really would do anything for her sake, wouldn’t you?”
She got it then, that look. Because she couldn’t imagine Whitney Colton disturbing her spoiled life for anyone, not even—or perhaps especially—her own children.
And in that moment she wasn’t sure if, despite the Colton wealth, he’d had it all that much better than she had.
Chapter 17
&nbs
p; T.C. got up from the family table when his phone rang, glad of the excuse. He hated being there, thinking of Jolie and Emma alone at the refuge. They would be safe there, but they should have been safe at home, too. He should look into Colton Incorporated putting a bit more investment into the neighborhood. Maybe he would when he got back to the office. It wasn’t his bailiwick, but he had some input. And he’d always felt pride in the neighborhood was the key to revitalization.
He waited until he was outside on the rear patio to pull the phone out. His pulse gave a kick when he saw the screen.
“Manny,” he said.
“Hey, buddy. Only got a minute, we’ve got a situation brewing Uptown, but what’s up with your girl?”
Uh-oh, he thought. And ignored the spike of...something that shot through him when Manny called Jolie his girl. “Meaning?”
“I ran into Charlie Kidwell at the shooting range. He was bitching about your bro calling his boss the sheriff, and sending them off on another chase. After your old girlfriend.”
At least it doesn’t sound like either Watkins or Kidwell was taking it that seriously. “So I heard.”
“You didn’t mention you and she had history.”
T.C. felt a twinge of guilt. “Years ago. And I had no idea Fowler was going to pull this out of his Stetson. It’s crazy.”
“What’s this about an extortion, years ago?”
“It’s a long story. And it wasn’t extortion, it was...like I said, long story. But she has nothing to do with it now.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am.”
“She’s got an alibi? For the time your father went missing?”
Well, that should have been higher on the priority list, T.C. thought. And felt a bit foolish that it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask where she’d been at the time. “We’re working on that. It has been three months,” he told Manny.
“All right, buddy. As long as you’re thinking with the right head, y’know?”
That moment on the porch flashed through his mind. His body’s response was instant and fierce.
“She’s a fine-looking woman,” Manny said at his silence.
“Yes. And she also dumped me, so yeah, I’m thinking straight.”
“Whoa. Sorry, man.” Manny hastened to leave the subject behind. “Anyway, I didn’t tell him you had her, but I don’t feel right about it.”
“Thanks, my friend. I’m going to get her a lawyer. Then we’ll talk to him. Tell him, if you need to. I don’t want you caught in the middle of this.”
“I will, when I see him again. Which I can avoid for a while,” Manny said, and T.C. could almost see him grinning. “He’s not a bad guy. He thinks your brother’s a bit of a jerk, though.”
“Then he’s smart, as well,” T.C. said.
“He is. So don’t keep him waiting too long.”
Well, T.C. thought as he ended the call, that was one very big one he owed his old friend. Cowboys tickets maybe, since it looked like they were headed for the playoffs this year. Manny’d love that, as would his son.
He didn’t go back to the table. He’d eaten enough, and had enough of the family. His mother had found a new psychic to consult, and apparently after initially rejecting her silly vision of the old man happily chomping on a pastrami sandwich, she had decided the woman was right and gone back for more. Who knew how much she’d pad the charlatan’s bank account before she gave up and switched to the next one? He felt for his mother, and told himself this was a strong indication she’d had nothing to do with this and genuinely cared for his father, but he still didn’t want to hear any more of that.
Besides, it was only a matter of time before Fowler started in on his new theory, and the very last thing T.C. wanted was to listen to opinions of Jolie flying around the Colton table.
He fought the urge to jump in the truck and head for the refuge. Somebody would surely notice, and it might lead them to Jolie and Emma. And that would bring on questions he didn’t want to answer.
Questions he wasn’t sure he had answers for.
He retreated to his rooms, not liking the word even as he thought it. Retreat wasn’t in his nature, but when he was confronting his family, it sometimes seemed the only course to take. He hadn’t wanted to be here for dinner at all, but he’d signed in this morning and he didn’t want anyone wondering what had come up at the last minute. He didn’t want anyone wondering anything, at the moment.
He was soon pacing again, but he didn’t fight it this time; it helped him think. He had an appointment with Hugh Barrington tomorrow afternoon, at his office near the Colton building. If the sheriff took Fowler’s accusations seriously, which he would, since Fowler was a Colton—and according to Manny, Kidwell would follow all leads anyway—Jolie was going to need someone to stand for her.
He was thankful she’d been talking with the staff worker at the day care when the woman in the alley was murdered, or she might be in even more trouble. Being a suspect in two murders was not a pleasant prospect. If Fowler ever realized there was a chance of that, who knew what he might do? He’d certainly crossed ethical and moral boundaries before. And he’d already demonstrated he was desperate to throw suspicion off Tiffany.
T.C. was honest enough with himself to admit that while keeping Jolie and Emma safe was the goal, thwarting Fowler would be the icing on the cake. He’d long ago given up trying to get along with his half brother. They were just too different, had nothing in common except their father and a name. He had no choice about butting heads with him at work, Fowler did outrank him by a step and never hesitated to use that, but T.C. could avoid him at home, and did his best to accomplish that.
Thoughts still swirling, he finally tugged off his boots and stretched out on his bed, even though he knew he was far from being able to sleep. It was still early anyway, barely nine.
He heard a light tap on his door. Piper, he guessed, since Alanna had been out with Jake tonight, and his brothers wouldn’t have been so gentle about it. Since she was the only sibling he thought he could face tonight, he got up. Halfway to the door, it occurred to him it could be Bettina, asking about his raiding of the stores. He wondered what the woman would say if he told her it had been for her erstwhile assistant. She had always liked Jolie, and had adored having baby Emma in the house. It had been Bettina who overcame his mother’s objections to hiring Jolie in the first place, and Eldridge had sided with the cook. “The kitchen’s her domain. Let her run it,” he’d said.
T.C. hadn’t been surprised. Eldridge liked things the way he liked them, and after all these years Bettina knew his preferences inside out and made sure things were done to his satisfaction. His father might cater to his wife’s wishes, but only when it didn’t inconvenience him too much.
He pulled open the door and saw his first guess had been right: Piper.
“You all right?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“You kind of vanished. I thought maybe that phone call was bad news.”
“Just complications,” he said. Then, with the best smile he could muster for this woman who had been the only one to reach out to Jolie when she worked here, perhaps as an orphan herself feeling more akin to her than her adopted siblings, he added, “Thanks for worrying, Pipe.”
She grinned at him. “We good Coltons have to stick together.”
He grinned back. “We outnumber them,” he reminded her.
“Five to two,” she said, right on cue.
“Five to four if you count the parents.”
They both laughed at the old exchange, but there was a lot of truth in it. So often he, Piper, Alanna, Reid and Zane felt like allies against their own half siblings Fowler and Marceline, and their machinations. Those two had learned too well from their respective parents, and made life generally miserable for those around them.
After she’d gone, T.C. walked over to the window by his desk. The moon was full now. Hunter’s moon, he thought. And although the silver light was very different, casting everything into stark contrast, it was so bright he could see almost as well as in daylight. It was the kind of night he’d waited for as a kid—and even now, truth be told—often sneaking out for a midnight ride across the ranch.
He was suddenly seized with the urge to do just that. He scoffed at himself; he was long past the point where a belting race in the moonlight would solve his problems. But then, it had never been about solving the problems, but only about getting his thoughts about them straight in his head. And nothing did that better than being out alone on a horse in the moonlight when the night was still and the heat of the day fading.
No one would think it odd, although his nighttime rides had become rarer as his work life took up so much more time. And Fowler certainly wasn’t about to follow him or send anyone to follow him if he went on horseback; the man didn’t get any closer to a horse or cow than necessary to maintain the Colton image.
He wavered for a moment. Then it struck him that it would solve three of his problems instantly. The need to do something, anything. The urge to go to the refuge. And his promise to Emma that she would meet the horse so like the one she’d drawn.
The scales tipped. Decided now, he swiftly changed clothes, into his favorite jeans and the worn boots with the stirrup marks up the inside instep. Just pulling them on made him feel better, and he knew he’d made the right decision. For Emma, he told himself. Although she would be asleep when he arrived, Flash would be there in the morning.
He stopped dead in the act of zipping his jeans.
In the morning.
Was he planning on spending the night? On some level, had he made that decision without even consciously thinking about it? What the hell was he thinking? Was he going to push Jolie to see if she really would have sex with him if that was his price for helping them?
Heat blasted through him. Finishing zipping his jeans suddenly became problematic.
You really are a Texas-sized fool, Colton.
What else could explain why, of all the women in the world he could have, only this one got to him like this? Why was it only this one sent his senses spinning and his body out of control at the mere thought of having her naked in his arms again?
Colton Family Rescue Page 12
