Luke’s eyes narrowed. He looked at the woman in front of him, praying to discern if she lied. “There’s a plan? Do you have proof?”
Valerie wiped her eyes once again. “No, but I know something’s going on nevertheless.”
“How?” “There have been people in and around my father—around his room—who have no purpose being there. Daddy is always drawing the coattail crowd.”
“The coattail crowd?” Luke questioned. “You know, those people who plan to make it big or get rich by riding his coattails to the top. Daddy is so giving, so generous, he never sees harm until it’s too late. I’ve heard rumors and—”
“Look, you can’t go acting on rumors,” Luke interjected. “If you don’t have proof, the authorities aren’t going to be able to help you.”
“But I’m not going to the authorities. I’ve come to you.” Luke shook his head and started back up the path. “You need to talk to the authorities. If there is a problem, they’re the ones who can help keep your father out of trouble. They can even post a guard on him while he’s here at the canyon.”
“Please don’t leave me, Luke. Please don’t say no. Don’t leave me all alone in this.”
Luke stopped and looked at her for a moment. She seemed so delicate, so vulnerable and lost. “Miss Winthrop, if you would turn to God, you would find you’re never alone. Pray about this and ask His guidance. God will surely show you what to do.”
“I don’t need religion—I need you.” “No, you don’t. You hardly even know me,” Luke replied firmly.
“But I’d like to.” “Miss Winthrop, I can’t help you, except to pray for you.” He didn’t know if it was God’s stirring or his own personal discomfort, but Luke felt an overwhelming need to escape. “Good day,” he added rather abruptly.
Luke walked away, leaving the crying woman to her own devices. He wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer, and the pricking of his conscience seemed a foreboding of things to come.
The Winthrops were bad news for the entire area. He didn’t want to get involved with them on any business or personal level, yet they seemed to impose themselves on people. They represented everything Luke disliked: power, money, fame, and politics. They were of the world. They were the world.
The Winthrops and their kind used people. Used them no matter the cost. If a person proved useful, they were brought in as the best of friends. Once they’d served their purpose, however, and that person was no longer needed, they were disposed of as neatly as . . . Luke stopped in his thoughts.
“As neatly as Rufus Keegan was pushed over the edge,” he murmured.
The slender build of Valerie Winthrop came to mind. She’d admitted to spending part of the evening with Keegan. Maybe she knew something. After all, it was entirely possible that, short of the confrontation that sent Keegan to his death, Valerie Winthrop was the last person to speak to him.
“But she’d probably only lie,” Luke surmised. He hated to judge her harshly, but each encounter with her seemed to bring trouble.
Luke contrasted her to Alexandria Keegan. Alex’s gentle spirit and quiet, unassuming manners made Luke feel protective and loving. Valerie Winthrop just irritated him.
The need to see Alex, to hold her and tell her how he felt, grew stronger with each passing moment. Luke knew it was poor timing given the situation, but each time he had put off telling her of his love, things only seemed to get worse.
“I’d like a few words with you, Mr. Toland.”
Luke looked up to greet the stern expression of the ranger who’d tried to talk to Alex the night before. His counterparts had already asked Luke a couple dozen questions related to Rufus Keegan’s death, but he had figured they were far from done.
“Sure,” Luke said nodding. “What do you want to know?” The man’s eyes narrowed. “Did you have any reason to want Rufus Keegan dead?”
Valerie Winthrop had never felt more alone in her life. She watched Luke walk away and hook up with another man. No doubt another friend—a part of his life at the Grand Canyon.
It seemed everyone had someone they could trust—but she had no one. Even her own father was so focused on his campaign and his desire for the presidency that he couldn’t see anything else. Oh, she knew he loved her, but she was something more ornamental than useful in his eyes. Her father trusted her to host his dinner parties, but not to pick her own husband. Her father had never denied her anything, but on the issue of Joel Harper he seemed blind and deaf.
Drying her eyes, Valerie looked out over the canyon. It would be easy enough to jump to her death. Die in the flash of a moment—like Rufus Keegan. The thought of him dying sent chills up her spine. She remembered his suggestions the night before during their walk along the rim. She could almost recollect the feel of his hands upon her—touching her, demanding things of her she didn’t want to give. She shuddered and refused to think about it. There was nothing she could do about it now.
She had thought her lie about someone trying to kill her father would cause Luke to care about her. She’d thought that if her looks couldn’t bring him to his knees, then perhaps the idea of being her rescuer and protector would. But Luke hadn’t been interested in this role either. He puzzled her like no other man ever had. Usually all she had to do was bat her eyelashes or wave her money and men were at her beck and call.
Even as she thought this, the idea left her more lonely than ever. Would anyone ever love and care about her—for herself? She’d played so many games acting the coquette, the wild rebel, the sweet, attentive daughter. She wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. Her life in Charlotte was one of privilege and elegance. She was a daughter of the South—highly respected, belonging to that elite world of modern southern belles.
She’d been born to this, taking her mother’s place in society, serving as she had served. Valerie generally saved her wild behavior for times when she was away from her home. New Yorkers didn’t care how she conducted herself. They didn’t mind her wearing scandalous clothes and being seen entering speakeasies. They turned a blind eye to her flirtations and drinking.
Valerie only wished she could turn a blind eye to herself. She didn’t like herself very much. For all the confidence of her position, somewhere along the way Valerie had lost sight of the truth.
“I have no clue as to what the truth is anymore,” she whispered.
Luke had said she needed God, but Valerie had tried church and religion. It left her hopeless and burdened with its many rules and regulations. She could never hope to be the pure and innocent person that religion demanded. She could never be good enough—not with her problems and life-style.
There has to be something else, she thought. Something more than this emptiness. The vast emptiness of the canyon seemed to mirror how she felt inside. It would take an awful lot to fill up the Grand Canyon, but surely that would be simple compared to Valerie trying to fill the hole in her heart.
God would be big enough to fill that space, she thought, then quickly pushed the thought aside.
Ignoring the acquaintances who looked her way, Valerie went back to her suite on the third floor of El Tovar. She had no desire to mingle and make small talk. Luke’s words continued to haunt her—his talk about how a person needed to know where they stood with God. But how was a person to know something so vast as that? It wasn’t as if God would come down and speak to a person face-to-face. Was it?
She thought of the whiskey she’d hidden in her dresser. The idea of drinking herself into oblivion appealed to her greatly. Let them all dine and party without her. She wasn’t feeling well. Her father or Joel could make her excuses. The alcohol wouldn’t solve her problems, but it would make them go away for at least a few hours. Or rather, it would make her no longer care about their existence.
Entering her room, she immediately locked the door behind her. She wanted no one to disturb her.
“I saw you with Toland,” Joel stated.
Valerie turned with a start, her hand clasping th
e collar of her dress. “How did you get in here?”
“That’s unimportant,” he said, getting up from the bedside chair. “What is important is that I saw you with Toland just now.”
“So what?” Valerie said, trying hard to be brave. “I happened upon him while I was walking and we talked.”
“Is that what you call it when you wrap yourself around someone?”
Valerie recognized his jealousy. It was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost. But the anger in his expression drew her up short. “I’ve been greatly upset since last night’s events. Not that I would expect you to understand.”
Joel watched her with an odd sort of expression, one which Valerie found completely unnerving. He wore his dark brown suit, the one she’d helped him pick out in Charleston. The tie was also one she’d helped him choose. His entire appearance, quality through and through, should have pleased her, but instead it left her feeling cold and disinterested. Next to a man like Luke Toland, Joel seemed boring and lifeless.
“Things have gotten out of control,” Joel announced, crossing the room to look out her window. “Unscheduled events are taking place, and it’s causing me a great deal of trouble.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Valerie said, taking off her straw hat. She wished Joel would simply leave her alone but knew full well he’d come with something or someone on his mind. The sooner he got it out for her consideration, the better off they’d both be. “Maybe you should explain,” she finally added, coming hesitantly to sit on the edge of her bed. She hoped her calm approach would soothe him.
“This election means everything to me. To your father as well,” he said, turning from the window. “There is a great deal at stake, and no one will be allowed to ruin that. Not the Keegans. Not John Davis or Bradley Jastrow. Not even you.” He lowered his voice a bit before adding, “Especially not you.”
Fear washed over her, and the loneliness she’d felt earlier seemed to magnify. “Why don’t we go downstairs for a bit of lunch?” she suggested. “You can tell me all about this over one of those lovely salads.” She got to her feet, but Joel quickly crossed the room and stood between her and the door.
“You aren’t going anywhere, my dear. There is much we need to consider—to take charge of. I’m going to need your help in order to see my plans to completion. You do want to see your father elected as president, don’t you?”
Valerie bit her lower lip and backed up a step. “It’s hardly proper for us to discuss it here.”
“Why not? I’m sure you’ve had many other men here for . . . discussions.”
“That’s not true,” Valerie countered. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But we’re engaged, my dear. Tomorrow night we’ll make it official. Surely there can be no harm.” He smiled in that self-confident manner she’d come to hate.
“It’s not proper. People will talk.” “People are already talking, Val. They’re saying things like, ‘How is it that Miss Winthrop should act so freely with other men?’ Or ‘Didn’t I hear that she’s engaged? What must her fiancé think?’ Those are the kind of things people are saying. You’re making me the laughingstock of our social circles.”
“It hasn’t been intentional. You and I both agreed that we should enjoy ourselves with other people,” Valerie protested in her defense.
“I believe we had both agreed to be discreet. You have obviously given no regard to that agreement. All last night you hung on one man’s arm or another. I believe you made the circle to include everyone—everyone but me, that is.” His eyes narrowed as he stepped toward her. “I would certainly hate to have people believe my soon-to-be wife was a woman of loose moral character.”
“You’ve never cared what anyone thought,” Valerie said, backing away from him. “Why concern yourself now?”
“Because I intend to win this election for your father. I intend to see us married and my future secured.” He paused. “I intend to have access to the Winthrop fortune—that’s all I care about.”
Her reached out to her and Valerie cringed and closed her eyes. When his touch didn’t come, Valerie opened her eyes and noted his expression. It seemed a mix of frustration, disgust, and maybe even hurt.
“Please go,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.
Joel shook his head. “No. I intend to have what you so freely give to everyone else. Your days of denying me are over.”
“Don’t do this, Joel. You’ll regret it, I promise.”
He took hold of her dress at the neckline and tore the material down the bodice. “The only regret I have is that I didn’t do this sooner.”
“It’s not what you think,” she pleaded. “Joel, I’ve never been with a man. I swear it. You may have all your jealous thoughts, you may imagine the worst—but I swear it’s true.”
He stopped, looking at her oddly. “I don’t believe you.” Panic swept through her like a fire. “I’m not lying. I’m a virgin. I may not act the part, but I’ve always remained that way—I do have my scruples.”
“Saving yourself for marriage, eh?” His voice took on a sarcastic tone. “Well, consider this your wedding day.”
Hours later, Joel left Valerie’s room in a sense of euphoria. Who would have believed the woman was chaste? Not that it mattered now. She was his. Now she’d have to marry him or face the embarrassment of her ruined reputation. He might have even managed to get her pregnant. What a delight that would be. She’d have to marry him in a hurry or lose her precious social standing in Charleston. Perhaps Joel would push for a Christmas wedding. That would give them enough time to finish this trip and settle back into a more normal routine.
He could see it all now—a beautiful Charleston wedding with all the right people in attendance. He would never be fully accepted as one of them because he was a Yankee and there still existed long, wounded memories of the War Between the States. Still, with Winthrop backing him, society would play their part. They might talk about him behind his back, but to his face they would be the epitome of graciousness.
Smiling to himself, Joel felt as though he could move a mountain. Rufus Keegan had proved a rather unpleasant inconvenience, but that was behind him now. Keegan could no longer cause him trouble or make threats. He shook his head and frowned, remembering the man’s audacity. Keegan had said he would relay damaging information to the senator should Joel not bring him into their folds immediately instead of waiting for the election. Foolish man. No one threatened Joel Harper and got away with it.
Systematically, Joel would take care of each problem and see his life put in order. Tomorrow night would bring him victory—sure and sweet. He had Valerie where he wanted her. He had the senator eating out of his hand. And now Keegan was out of his way.
He paused at the top of the steps to glance back at the door to Valerie’s room. He thought he might feel some small measure of regret, but none came. He’d only taken what was rightfully his to take. There’ll be no more Luke Tolands or Rufus Keegans or Andrew . . . what was his name? Shrugging, Joel smiled. It didn’t matter what his name had been. He wasn’t a problem anymore.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Valerie stared up at the ceiling and wondered how her life had ever come to such a tragic place. She had no idea how long she’d lain there. Minutes? Hours? Days? Still too stunned to move, she nevertheless felt the pain and misery of her encounter with Joel. Closing her eyes against the images, Valerie wished herself dead.
How could anyone be so hateful and cruel? Joel had taken her innocence with hardly any more concern than if he’d been stepping on a bug. He’d appeared only momentarily stunned to realize she had been truthful about her claims of purity. But it didn’t stop him. He’d laughed then, and she could still hear the sound ringing in her ears.
He had told her, even as he raped her, that she was a worthless and stupid woman. He told her that he only placed himself in her life in order to get what he wanted from her father. Then he threatened her with worse if she da
red to breathe a word of his admission.
Valerie was used to using others, used to moving them like pawns in her game, but this time she’d been on the receiving end. And it wasn’t at all the innocent act she’d thought it to be.
For years, she had convinced herself that the goal justified her poor behavior. Now she knew that wasn’t true. It had taken Joel’s attack to make her see the lie, however.
Rolling to her side, Valerie simply wanted to hide away in her room until her father decided it was time to leave the Grand Canyon. How she hated this place! Her entire life had ended here—nothing would ever matter again. The parties no longer offered her their magical illusions. Those wonderful moneyed people she often kept company with were of no interest. They couldn’t make things right again—not that a single one of them would ever care.
She wept softly into her pillow. A parade of faces came to mind—Andrew, Luke, and so many others. She’d played with them, teasing them with her flirtations. She’d visited Luke in his cabin—knowing full well he’d never take advantage of her. She’d known she could take the game as far as she wanted with him, and that he’d stop when she told him to. Unlike Joel.
She cringed, still feeling his breath upon her. Sometime during his attack he’d had the audacity to tell her that she needed him.
“You’ll see it in time, my dear,” he had whispered against her ear. “You’ll see how much you need me.”
But she didn’t need Joel or anything he had to offer. Luke had said she needed God, but she was certain God didn’t need her. Especially not now.
“You’ve brought this on yourself,” Joel had said as he dressed to leave her. “I might have reconsidered if I’d truly believed in your innocence. Of course, there’s nothing to be done now, but when you look in the mirror, you’ll see exactly who brought this to pass.”
For all her flirtations and wild encounters, Valerie had always managed to get away from difficult situations just in time. There was a certain thrill to her game. She would take herself almost to the point of no return, then turn and flee before life and its mongers could take from her what they would. Now all of that had changed. Joel was right. She’d brought this on herself, and now she had to live with the consequences. Or die with them.
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