Distrust

by Lisa Jackson

  “So where is Blake?”

  “Who knows?”

  “But why would he want to blow up my farm?”

  “I don’t think he wanted to—I think he was paid to,” Chase said grimly.

  “Oh, no. You’re not back to that again, are you? You really think Caleb was behind it?”

  “Positive.”

  “But how?”

  “Come here.”

  She walked around the couch and he took hold of her wrist, pulling on it gently so that she fell on top of him. “You’re getting me dirty,” she protested with a smile.

  “That’s not the half of it.” He drew her head to his, wound his fingers in her still damp hair and breathed deeply of the scent of her. “God, I’ve missed you.” Kissing her softly, he groaned when her body molded easily to the hard contours of his.

  He started kissing her face and pushing the robe off her shoulders, when she stopped him. “Wait a minute, hero,” she said. “First things first. Tell me what else you know.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got your priorities mixed up?”

  She laughed. “Come on, out with it.”

  “Okay. I talked to Jenna Peterson earlier on the phone.”

  “When?”

  “Just a few minutes ago, when you were upstairs with Cody.”

  “At this hour?”

  “I decided that the sooner we figured this out, the better. Her sister had told me that she was due back tonight, so I gambled and called. It worked out.”

  “So what did she say?”

  “Jenna left Caleb, not because of me, but because she knew that Caleb had put Blake Summers on his payroll.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. When I couldn’t convince you to sell, Caleb got hold of Blake.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he knew that Cody had received a letter from him. The way I see it, Caleb figured Blake was his ace in the hole. If Blake showed up, either one of two things would happen: Blake would work his way back into your heart and convince you to sell—”

  “No way!”

  “—or scare you into wanting out of this town and away from him. What Johnson didn’t count on was the fact that you weren’t going to let Blake boss you around. Apparently Blake figured it out, too. My guess is that he has some sort of deal with Caleb—a deal like Larry Cross had and if he convinced you one way or the other to move, that he’d get a bundle of cash. Why else would he come back now, try to make amends with his son and then set fire to your shed?”

  “If he did it.”

  “You don’t think he did?”

  She smiled into his eyes. “I don’t know what to think. I just know that I’m glad you’re here with me, that Cody’s safe and that we can be together tonight. Tomorrow morning we’ll deal with everything.”

  “Such as fire inspectors, insurance investigators, nosy neighbors—”

  “Wet hay, frightened animals, Caleb, Blake and the rest of the world,” she murmured, placing her head against his neck. “But it really doesn’t matter,” she whispered, shuddering. “A few hours ago, when I thought Cody might be dead and I didn’t know where you were, I realized that nothing, not even this land, is worth all this trouble—”

  “Shh,” he said, pulling the afghan over them both. “Sleep. Don’t think about giving up the land tonight. If you do, Caleb’s already won.”

  “I’m just tired of fighting . . .” she murmured, snuggling against him.

  “So am I, Dani,” he agreed, kissing her hair. “So am I. But I won’t let Johnson win . . . even if it does turn out that he’s my father.”

  With his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, Chase McEnroe stared at the ceiling long into the night and silently vowed that no matter what happened, he would never give up Dani or her son. With every ounce of strength he could find, he’d fight Caleb Johnson for Dani’s right to own this land she loved with all of her heart.

  * * *

  Dani woke up with a crick in her neck. She moved her head from side to side and found herself staring into the most brilliant blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  “Morning,” Chase drawled, smiling down at her.

  “Lord, what time is it?”

  “After seven.”

  “Ooh,” she groaned. “I’ve got to get up and feed the animals. And Cody’ll miss the bus—”

  “Let him.”

  “What?” Rubbing her eyes, she tried to clear the cobwebs from her mind.

  “Give the kid a break—”

  “But school barely started.”

  “I know, but this is a special day.”

  “Oh?” She pressed closer to him. “Tell me more—”

  “We’re going to talk to the minister of your choice and plan a wedding for next week.”

  “Oh, Chase, how can you even think about getting married so soon?” she said, laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

  “I’ve had all night,” he replied, dead serious. “And there’s no way around it, lady. We’re getting married next Saturday come hell or high water.”

  “Such a wonderful proposal,” she mocked. “How could any woman refuse?” She stretched and pulled herself upright, ignoring the slumberous look of passion lurking in Chase’s stare. “But I think I’d better talk to Cody.”

  “I did.”

  She’d started to stand and walk to the kitchen, but she whipped her head around, her long golden hair streaming behind her. “When?”

  “Yesterday. When I found him at the homestead house. I told him how I felt about you and him and I told him I wouldn’t get in the way of his relationship with his natural father even though I wanted to adopt him.”

  “And?”

  “And he seemed to accept the idea. But then, he was pretty disappointed with his father.”

  “I can imagine . . .” She looked longingly up the stairs.

  “You go on up,” Chase suggested. “See what he has to say. I’ve got a few calls to make anyway.”

  Dani walked up the stairs and knocked softly on Cody’s door.

  “Huh?” she heard from within the room and then an excited yip from Runt.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” Cody was lying in the bed with half the covers spread upon the floor. When Dani opened the door to his room, Runt ran out like a shot.

  “How’re ya feelin’?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Okay, I guess. Mom, I’m real sorry I took off. It’s probably my fault that Dad came back to the shed and . . . and . . . well, you know.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Dani said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing Cody’s tousled hair out of his eyes. “I’m just glad that you’re home and safe.”

  “But the equipment—”

  “Can be replaced. You can’t.”

  Cody swallowed hard and then sat up and hugged her with all the strength of his nine years. “I love ya, Mom,” he said to his own embarrassment.

  “Oh, honey, nothing could be better,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

  “’Cept maybe marryin’ Chase?” he asked.

  “What do you think about it—would you be willing to give me away?”

  “Huh?”

  Dani laughed at his perplexed expression and then explained about a simple wedding ceremony. Though not jumping for joy, Cody seemed to accept the fact that she would marry Chase.

  “Okay, I’ll give you away,” he said blushing. “As long as it’s not for good.”

  “Silly!”

  “Where would we live?”

  “Good question,” she said.

  “Why don’t you ask Chase? He thinks you deserve a day off from school.”

  “Great!”

  “I’m not so sure about it—”

  “Maybe having Chase as a stepdad wouldn’t be so bad after all!” Cody said, leaping out of bed.

  “I don’t think so—but, look, you can’t get out of doing your chores, okay?”

  “Okay,” he grumbl
ed, reaching for his favorite pair of jeans.

  Still smiling to herself, Dani went into her bedroom, combed the tangles from her hair, put on a little makeup and changed into a summer dress. By the time she was back downstairs, Cody had already talked to Chase and was in the barn feeding the animals.

  Chase was seated at the kitchen table, his feet up on a free chair while he sipped coffee. He looked very proud of himself.

  “You look like the cat who caught the canary,” she observed as she poured a cup for herself.

  “Not a canary, but the prettiest woman east of the Rockies.”

  “Give me a break.” But she laughed despite his outlandish compliment. “What have you been up to?”

  “More than you want to know.”

  “Try me.”

  “Okay.” He held up one finger. “I called the police, they already have Blake in custody.”

  Shaking, she sat down and let her head fall into her hand. “No,” she whispered.

  “Yep. He turned himself in because he was scared to death that he’d hurt or even killed Cody. Apparently, Blake hadn’t thought anyone was home; then he saw Cody just before the gas tank blew and then he couldn’t find the boy. He admitted to being in league with Caleb and the police are up at Johnson’s house now. I told them about the dioxin and they’re trying to get in contact with Larry Cross. You’ll probably hear from the D.A. He’ll want to know if you want to press charges.”

  “I see,” she whispered. “So how does that affect you?”

  “It doesn’t. Blood or no blood, Caleb Johnson was never my father. But, I did call him; told him everything we knew and believe it or not he’s agreed to lay off you.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  “Oh, it won’t be that hard since he’ll probably be in the penitentiary for the rest of his life.”

  “And you don’t care?” she asked gently.

  “He’s never been a father to me. What happened between him and my mother was something that occurred before I was born.” He took a long sip from his coffee. “But, I made another agreement with him.”

  “Now what?” she groaned.

  “I’m moving my company to Martinville.”

  “That, I like.”

  He stood and came over to her chair, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet. “I thought you might. The next part is even better, I hope. I told Caleb that since he’s bound and determined to build Summer Ridge, that we would deed over the rights to the hot springs to him.”

  “You what!”

  “Just listen, okay? He’ll have to divert the water down the hill, of course, through the trees, to the back of his resort.”

  “I don’t know about this—”

  “In return, he’ll grant us the right to control the water flow. With the money we get from the sale of those water rights, we’re going to restore the old homestead house and maybe add on a couple of extra rooms,” he said.

  “Oh, Chase,” she said, happiness swelling in her chest. “That’s wonderful, but it’s a big house. Why more rooms?”

  “Modern ones—such as bathrooms with plumbing and a nursery—”

  “A nursery?” she said, laughing.

  “At least one.” He stood and took her into his arms. “Now, what do you say?”

  “What took you so long to come into my life?” She looked up at him with bright hazel eyes, all the love in her heart reflected in her gaze.

  “Then next Saturday is a good day for a wedding?”

  “If we can’t do it tomorrow—”

  He swept her off her feet and grinned. “You know, I’ve just had a change of heart.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yep. Maybe we should send Cody to school after all. Then we’d have the rest of the day together.”

  She smiled seductively. “Sounds like heaven, but you already made a promise that he could stay home.”

  “My mistake,” he groaned and kissed her neck. “But just you wait, lady. Once Cody goes to sleep tonight . . .”

  “Promises, promises,” she quipped.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Promises for the rest of your life.” Then he kissed her gently, his mouth softly moving over hers, causing her heart to pound and her pulse to flutter.

  “Forever?” she asked.

  “Forever.”

  Midnight Sun

  To the two and only,

  Cousin Dave and Cousin Les

  Chapter One

  Holding her head proudly, Ashley walked into the room and gave no outward sign of her flagging confidence. Her elegant features were emotionless and the regal tilt of her chin didn’t falter. The only signs of the emotional turmoil which stole her sleep were the deep blue smudges beneath her eyes.

  She was reminded of vultures circling over carrion as she stepped into the law offices of McMichaels and Lee. Alan McMichaels held the chair for her, and as she took her seat between her cousin Claud and Aunt Beatrice, Ashley could feel the cool disdain in the pinched, white faces of the five people seated near the oiled oak desk.

  Claud’s rust-colored eyebrows had raised in mild surprise when she entered the room, but he said nothing. Aunt Beatrice nodded stiffly and then turned her pale gold eyes back on the attorney.

  The family had never been particularly close. Or, at least, Ashley had never felt the kinship with her father’s relatives that some families share.

  Today was no exception. Her father’s death hadn’t brought the family together. If anything, the family, whose members each owned a small piece of Stephens Timber Corporation, seemed more fragmented than ever.

  Though the room was spacious and decorated in opulent tones of cobalt blue and brown, the atmosphere within the brushed plaster walls was awkward and confining. Tension, like an invisible electric current, charged the air.

  Alan McMichaels took a seat at the modern desk. Behind his chair, through a large, plate glass window, was an expansive view of the West Hills of Portland. The fir-laden slopes, still a rich forest green in winter, were covered with expensive, turn-of-the-century homes that overlooked the city. In the distance, spanning two high ridges, was the Vista Bridge. Its elegant gray arch was just visible in the gentle morning fog that had settled upon the city.

  The lean attorney with the silver hair and black eyebrows cleared his throat and caught everyone’s attention. “As you know, we’re here for the reading of Lazarus Stephens’s will. Please hold your comments until I’ve read the entire document. When I’m finished, I’ll answer all of your questions.”

  McMichaels adjusted his reading glasses and picked up the neatly typed document. A claustrophobic feeling took hold of Ashley and wouldn’t let go. The tears she had shed for her father were dry and the only thing she felt was a deep, inexplicable loneliness. She and her father had never been close, but she felt as if a part of her had died with him.

  Despite the unspoken accusations of the other people in the room, Ashley met each questioning gaze with the cool serenity of her intelligent green eyes. Her blue-black hair was coiled neatly at the nape of her neck in a tight knot of ebony silk, and she was dressed expensively in a dark blue suit of understated elegance.

  Ashley understood the condemning looks from her father’s family. With very few exceptions the relatives of Lazarus Stephens didn’t approve of Ashley and made no bones about it. Ashley imagined that they had all been secretly pleased when they had learned of the falling-out between Lazarus and his headstrong, spoiled daughter. Aunts, uncles and cousins alike treated her like an outsider.

  Ignoring the surreptitious glances being cast in her direction, Ashley folded her hands in her lap and stared calmly at the silver-haired, bespectacled man sitting directly across the desk from her. Alan McMichaels was addressing everyone in the room, but Ashley was left with the distinct impression that he was singling her out.

  “I, Lazarus J. Stephens of Portland, Oregon, do make, publish and declare my Last Will and Testament, revoking all previous Wills and Codicils. . . .”
Ashley listened to her father’s attorney, and her wide green eyes showed no sign of emotion as the reading of the will progressed. Though she remained outwardly calm, her stomach was tied into several painful knots while the small bequests were made to each of Lazarus Stephens’s closest friends and relatives.

  McMichaels had insisted that Ashley attend the reading of her father’s will, although she didn’t understand why. Unless, of course, it was her father’s wish that she listen in humiliation while Lazarus publicly announced for the last time that he had disinherited his only child.

  She paled at the memory of the violent scene that had resulted in the rift separating them. Vividly she could recall the rage that had colored his cheeks, the vicious accusations that had claimed she had “sold out” and betrayed him, and the look of utter disdain and disappointment in his faded blue eyes.

  Over the years, the gap between father and daughter had narrowed, but never had that one, horrible scene been forgotten. Though Ashley had chosen to ignore the rumors about her father and his business practices, she hadn’t been immune to the malicious gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire whenever his name was mentioned in private conversation.

  Alan McMichaels cleared his throat and his dark eyes locked with Ashley’s for an instant. “. . . my nephew Claud,” McMichaels continued. In her peripheral vision Ashley saw Claud lean forward and noticed that his anxious fingers ran nervously along the edge of the polished desk as he stared expectantly at the attorney. “. . . I bequeath the sum of one hundred thousand dollars.”

  Claud’s self-assured smile, hidden partially by a thick, rust-colored mustache, wavered slightly as McMichaels paused. Claud’s nervous eyes darted from McMichaels to Ashley and back again.

  “I give, devise and bequeath all of the residue of my estate unto my only child, Ashley Stephens Jennings, to be hers absolutely.”

  Ashley’s heart dropped and her face drained of all color. She was forced to close her eyes for a second as she digested the intent of her father’s will. He had forgiven her. But his stubborn pride hadn’t allowed Lazarus to confront his daughter. Her fingers clenched together. Hot tears of grief burned in her eyes as she accepted her father’s final forgiveness.