“You would’ve continued to treat her that way, even if she was carrying your baby?” Gwen demanded, her voice going soft.”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean... I don’t know,” I admitted, raking my hands through my hair. “Look, this is all a moot point anyway because it doesn’t matter. She’s gone, and that’s the important thing.”
“No, the important thing is this is baby,” Gwen corrected. “I’m not getting rid of it, Nick.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to,” she responded, anger seeping into her tone. “It’s not right.”
“So, you’re just going to keep me here because of the baby? Is that it?” I demanded, scenarios flashing through my head in quick succession. This had to be some kind of trick – a way to force my hand and make me choose between my life in the city and staying on the ranch with Gwen.
We both knew I couldn’t have both. The thought entered my mind that she’d done this on purpose as a surefire way to get me to stick around, even if just for a little while... But that was ridiculous.
Gwen wasn’t like that.
Yet, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from saying it, my mouth acting of its own accord and spitting out nonsense without my permission, fear making me irrational.
“What?” Gwen drew back, stunned.
“You want me to stay on the ranch,” I said. “So, do you think this will keep me here? That I’ll give up my life in the city for you?”
Her expression darkened. “You know what. I don’t care what you think. You’re going to come and go as you please anyway, so why should your child make a difference? If I have to raise this baby on my own, I will, Nicholas. I don’t want a single cent from you.”
With that, she spun on her heel and left, allowing the back door to slam shut behind her with finality. I winced at the sound and glanced down at my shoes, ashamed at what I had said.
What the hell had I done?
I didn’t believe any of the words I said; they just came out unbidden.
Now, I had to make things right, or she would never speak to me again.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Gwen ran her hands over her face, exhausted. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore. You can be as involved as you want to be, okay? Other than that, I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t want you to,” I blurted out, bringing out the flowers from behind my back. “I know I said some shitty things back there, but I didn’t mean them. I was just scared, Gwen.”
She searched my face. “Of what?”
“Of being stuck here without any kind of way out,” I confessed. “When I was younger, that used to be my biggest nightmare. I’m just afraid it’ll happen again. But I realize that it’s stupid to think that because I can leave if I want to.”
“Exactly,” she agreed flatly. “Look, I didn’t want this baby at first, either. I don’t even know if I’m ready. But I’ve already said that I won’t ask you for anything, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
I reached for her hand, resting atop the banister at the foot of the stairs. “I do want to worry about that. I would like to take care of you and the baby. I just have no idea how. I’m a jackass for reacting the way that I did.”
Gwen exhaled. “I don’t know, Nick. It’s one thing when it’s just the two of us, but I’m bringing our baby into the world, and it needs more stability. A set life. Besides, you’re right. Where will you live? Where will our baby live? Because I don’t want to move to the city.”
I tugged on her hand and drew her forward, wrapping my arms securely around her. Her head rested atop my shoulders, breathing deeply.
“We can figure all of that out as we go along. Maybe he can spend half the time here and the other half in the city,” I suggested.
“I don’t know,” she commented uncertainly. “There’s so much to figure out.”
“Let’s not that about that now,” I urged. “For now, I want to take you out on a date.”
She stirred and drew back. “What?”
“I want to take you on a date,” I repeated. “I have a horse waiting for us with a picnic basket, and I found a good spot for us to sit.”
She blinked. “Now?”
“There’s no time like the present,” I said, holding my hand out for her to take.
“My chores,” she protested, casting a look out the window.
“Are taken care of,” I told her. “For the rest of the afternoon, and the night, we can do whatever you like.”
Gwen smiled. “Okay.”
Chapter 4
NICK.
I sat on my desk, amidst a mountain of papers all shapes and sizes strewn across all directions and ran my hands over my face, a small smile hovering near the edges of my lips.
Truthfully, I hated paperwork. I thought of it as nothing more than grunt work that took up too much time and energy and was of very little use, but I also recognized how important it was.
Yes, I did have a better system, but it was back at home. And as much as I wanted to forget the pressure of running a billionaire dollar business, Matt wouldn’t let me, sending along papers every few days of things that needed my attention.
Normally, I would attend to these matters using my laptop and a speedy internet connection, but due to the remote location of the ranch, it wasn’t the most reliable of connections. It was a hassle to keep going into the main part of town just to recharge my modem.
Every few days, I faxed over the paperwork, and I did still responded via email whenever I had the chance. But other than that, I was forced to work old school. I had to admit it was humbling, a reminder of the way things used to be.
The past two weeks or so, I felt different, a deep stirring inside of me the more time I spent on the ranch and around Gwen. It had little to do with the fact that I was soon to be the owner of Parker ranch and more to do with the way I felt being back here.
In my wildest dreams, I hadn’t imagined rekindling my love of the ranch and everything about it. Nor did I anticipate Gwen having a hand that, with her gentle and kind nature, pointing out all the things I allowed myself to forget.
Being around her was like waking up from a long nap, only to find that everything was better, tinged and colored with bright hues. Sometimes, when I looked at her, I could hardly believe she was carrying my baby; my heart was full, overflowing with love.
She was right to worry about the future, of course. Gwen might be sentimental, but she was also incredibly mature and clear-headed, knowing exactly what she wanted out of life and how to get it.
To say that a child threw her for a curveball was an understatement. I could tell she was struggling with it, but I did my best to help, in whatever way I could – not that it always worked out in my favor.
I stifled a yawn and scrubbed my hands over my face, rubbing my eyes repeatedly as I fought off sleepiness. Only a few more piles of paper, and I would be done for the night, getting to crawl into bed next to Gwen and feel her pressed against me – the only thing keeping me going even as my body sagged.
COLOR DANCED BEHIND my eyelids, flickering and moving, shapes dancing behind my eyes. My nose wrinkled, and I sniffed, scratching it intently before I let my hand fall back, heavy and loud against my desk.
Suddenly, my chest seized, and I began to cough violently. My eyes flew open, surprised at the attack only to find myself seated at my desk, with my head bent at an odd angle.
The position wasn’t what woke me up, though. It was the smell. I blinked rapidly, my pupils dilating as my vision cleared, and I realized what I was seeing. The study was on fire.
Granted, it was contained to a small part, but it was close enough to curtains that if it managed to snag the fabric, the whole place would be ablaze in minutes.
Quickly, I leapt to my feet and lurched forward, trying to push my lethargic body into action. I glanced around the room, my eyes darting around and looking for something to use to put out the fire, but to no avail.
Unti
l they landed on the large pitcher of water atop my desk, largely untouched. I stumbled forward, lifted it over my head and poured it over the red and orange flames, relieved when I heard the answering hiss in response.
I brought my hand up to my face and coughed, waving my hands in front of my face. Next, I walked over to the windows and threw them open, sticking my head out and inhaling as if my life depended on it.
Little by little, my brain started to process what had happened – the reality of it slamming into me like a ton of bricks. First the barn fire and now this. It was too much of a coincidence for me to believe it was an accident.
Though this one seemed more deliberate, specifying me as the target.
At first, I had believed it was the ranch, but now I was starting to wonder if maybe I was the intended target all along. Judging by the state of the study, I had to pursue that particular train of thought, morbid as it was.
I poked my head outside, my body tensing up, only to find that the rest of the main house was fine, relatively undisturbed. As relieved I was, I was also more worried.
Whoever targeted the study had it in mind as a warning because no one knew I was downstairs working or even still in the house, except for Gwen who’d wandered in looking for me before she gave me a quick kiss and asked me not to stay up too late.
I pressed my fingers to my temples and rubbed them in slow circular motions, trying to ward off the headache that threatened to wrap itself around my skull. This didn’t look good, at all.
Suddenly, a piece of fabric stuck to the doorknob caught my eye – a color that was strangely familiar.
At that moment, it became clear to me who was behind the fire.
“NO,” GWEN PROTESTED, her hands coming to rest on either side of the table, gripping the edges. “I’m sure you’re wrong. This can’t possibly be true.”
I sighed. “Look, I don’t want it to be true, either, Gwen, but I need you to think about this. I have evidence.”
“A torn piece of fabric,” she argued heatedly. “That’s not proof of anything.”
I scratched my chin. “I hope it isn’t, but I need to ask anyway, just to make sure that I left no stone unturned. Besides, if it wasn’t him, then he might know who did since he was close to the study when the fire happened.”
Gwen frowned. “It can’t be Mr. Owens. He’s been around for a long time. He’s like family. Why would he want to do that?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea, but I’m waiting for him to finish his work for the day, so I can ask him.”
“Nick,” she pleaded. “He won’t like that you’re accusing him of being behind the attack. I doubt he’ll stay on after you do. He’s innocent.”
I reached for her hand and squeezed. “I hope you’re right. I really do.”
Unfortunately, I’d spent the last few days watching Mr. Owens, clinging to the shadows in an attempt to monitor him more closely, and I hadn’t liked what I’d seen. There wasn’t anything explicit, but he was definitely a shady man. And since the night of the fire, I noticed a scowl on his face whenever he was near me.
Clearly, I’d done something to offend him, but I had no idea what it was. Granted, it couldn’t be bad enough to warrant setting my study on fire, but the older man clearly had an axe to grind, and I was at the top of his blacklist.
All I needed to do was figure out why.
Gwen dropped her head in her hands and squared her shoulders, refusing to believe what I was telling her. In all fairness, she’d done known him a lot longer, given the fact that he showed up two years before I left for college.
In many ways, she did consider him to family, so I knew it wasn’t easy for her.
Thirty minutes later, Mr. Owens walked into the kitchen and drew to a halt, his gaze swinging back and forth between Gwen and me, eyebrows knitted together.
“Is everything alright?” Mr. Owens asked, concern lacing his tone.
“I’m afraid not,” I responded, gravely. “Mr. Owens, where were you around the time of the fire?”
“I was outside getting some fresh air,” he answered smoothly.
“Did anyone see you?” I pressed.
“I don’t think so. Everyone was asleep.”
“Then, can you tell me why there was a torn piece of fabric from your shirt on my doorknob?” I held it up, watching his face carefully. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and a quick flicker of indecision passed across his face before it smoothed out, a neutral canvas once more.
“What am I being accused of?” he asked tightly.
“Nothing,” Gwen interrupted. “You’re not being accused of anything. Honestly, Nick. This is stupid. Look at him, he isn’t capable of doing this. I know him.”
“You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment,” I reminded her, not unkindly. My hand dropped to her shoulder, and I gave it a light pat. Mr. Owens watched the interaction, a dark look crossing his features.
“He’s right,” Mr. Owens admitted. “I’m the one behind the attacks.”
Gwen jerked back as if she’d been slapped. “What? Why?”
“Why?” he repeated. “Because he’s nothing but a spoiled rich boy who will dump the ranch and you as soon as he gets his grubby hands on the property.”
Gwen shook her head. “That’s not true, Mr. Owens.”
“You’re a fool if you can’t see that,” he commented, acid dripping from his tone. “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, so you can’t see it.”
“Don’t speak to her that way,” I warned.
“I’ll speak to her in whatever way I want. I’m her father,” Mr. Owens declared, nostrils flaring. “They took you away from me when you were little, but I wanted to make it up to you. I came here and took a job on the ranch, so I could be close to you.”
I blinked and stared at Gwen, who looked like she was reeling in shock, the plethora of information too much for her to handle. She opened and closed her mouth several times, choked noises escaping her lips, disbelief etched onto her features.
“I...no. That’s not possible,” she insisted without conviction. “You can’t be.”
“I am,” he confirmed. “You used to play here as a kid, and I thought there was no harm here. But when your mother died, things changed for me. The Parkers thought they were doing you a favor when they swooped in and had you taken away.”
Gwen’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “The Parkers raised me as their own. I’m incredibly grateful to them.”
Mr. Owens’s eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be. They took you away from me, and now their little grandson is threatening to do the same– only worse. He doesn’t love you, Gwen. He will tire of you someday.”
“Enough,” I said, firmly. “Why did you start the fires?”
“Because I wanted you to think that managing the ranch was too much.”
“You wanted to scare me away,” I concluded, tasting bile in the back of my throat. “You’d risk the ranch, the lives of everyone here, just to get back at me?”
He lifted his shoulders up then let them fall back down. “There are always casualties in situations like this.”
“How could you?” Gwen whispered, horror tingeing her tone.
“I did it for you,” Mr. Owens insisted. “All for you, Gwenie.”
“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, pushing her chair backward. “I need to get some air.”
“I’ll handle this,” I assured her.
Chapter 5
GWEN.
I paced back and forth, from one corner of the stable to the other, pausing every so often to pat the horses on the back, hoping the familiar act would offer me solace. Unfortunately, even they couldn’t calm me down.
The storm inside my heart waged on, pulling me from one extreme to the next.
I could hardly believe it.
In the span of a few minutes, my life had gone from being complicated to turning into one of those melodramatic soap operas I used to scoff at. Out of all the scenarios I’d envisioned my
head, the fact that Mr. Owens was behind the attacks hadn’t even crossed my mind.
In fact, I hadn’t even considered it.
After all, I’d known him since I was sixteen, and he was always like a father to me, looking out for me and offering sage life advice. Now that I knew the truth, all those memories were tainted.
This entire time I’d believed that my parents had been abandoned me, left me to fend for myself, when it turned out my father was much closer than I wanted to believe. Right within arms’ reach.
I wanted to be angry at the Parkers, to hold them responsible for not telling me the truth, but I understood why. They wanted to protect me, and I couldn’t fault them for that, not even a little.
Besides, I doubted they knew it was my father who worked on the ranch, or they wouldn’t have hired him. At least that’s what I believed. Based on his account, he looked very different back then and was a lot more cheerful before he checked himself into rehab, falling on and off the wagon too many times to return before I turned sixteen.
By then, it was too late.
I’d already settled into life on the Parker ranch, and any interference on his end would’ve disturbed the life I’d been given. To his credit, Mr. Owens – my father – was man enough to acknowledge that.
Not that it changed the facts.
“Are you okay?” Nick asked, hovering near the barn door, a small frown between his brows. “Can I come inside?”
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, twisting on my heel to go back to the other side of the barn. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to think. I mean, my father’s been here the entire time, and he’s the one behind the attacks.”
“I can hardly believe it myself,” Nick commented. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. I wish I knew how to make this better for you, but I don’t know what to do.”
I stopped, throwing him a look over my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do. What did he say when I left?”
Secret Series: A Stealthy Billionaire Romance Box Set Page 14