THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

by Ginna Gray

  At the time, Jacob had recently been diagnosed with cancer and Maggie had not wanted to upset him more. If he found out that not only had she been the one to come to his rescue, but that she now owned the largest single chunk of the business, he would have been livid. To hide the transaction, she had set up a blind trust of her own—the Malone-Endicott Trust—of which she was the sole owner and beneficiary. Nan, however, was the trustee of record.

  On paper the shares had been sold to the trust. When Jacob had questioned the change in ownership, Nan had simply told him that it had been done for "estate planning purposes." Since all the stock reports continued to go to Nan, so far he had not questioned the matter further.

  As she rocked, Maggie rolled her head against the chair back and gave a wry chuckle. "Eighteen months ago it had all seemed so simple, so foolproof," she murmured to herself. She'd play the white knight and save the company, and her father would never know.

  Of course, at the time she hadn't counted on ever returning home, at least not while Jacob was still alive. And she certainly hadn't expected to actually get involved in Malone Enterprises in any hands-on way.

  What strange twists and turns life took, she mused. All of her life there had been only two things that she'd ever really wanted—her father's love and a chance to work in the family business. After the scene with her father the day before she no longer harbored any hope of gaining the first. Now, however, it appeared she was about to attain her second goal by default.

  Maggie's mouth quirked again, this time her smile more sad than wry. How ironic, after all that had happened, that she was the one being asked to save the company.

  * * *

  Six

  « ^ »

  "Pull around to the back. I've been cooped up in that damned hospital for two days. I want to sit outside for a while."

  Dan met his boss's gaze in the rearview mirror as he turned the Cadillac into the driveway. "Whatever you say."

  It was the first complete sentence Jacob had uttered since they'd driven away from Mercy Hospital. He had been cheerful and anxious to get home when he and Lily had first arrived, but something had occurred between the two of them while Dan had gone to bring the car around.

  When he returned Jacob was stone-faced and Lily was upset, and it was obvious that she'd been crying. The tension between the couple was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  All the way home Lily had seemed anxious and overeager to please, but Jacob had ignored her nervous chatter for the most part, staring out the side window in silence. When he bothered to respond at all it was with grunts or sharp, one-word replies that cut Lily off and brought a sheen of moisture to her eyes.

  It was aberrant behavior for Jacob, and that puzzled Dan. More than any man he'd ever known, Jacob adored his wife and cosseted her as though she were made of spun glass. What the hell had passed between these two during those few minutes while he'd been gone? Whatever it was, Jacob was furious.

  Dan drove past the circular section of drive in front of the house and around to the side. He parked by the brick walkway that led from the drive to the terrace, then hopped out and retrieved the wheelchair from the trunk.

  Though weak, Jacob waved him away when he attempted to lift him from the car, struggling out and into the wheelchair on his own. By the time he was settled his face was white with the effort.

  "It's good to be home again," Jacob said with a sigh. He sagged with weariness as Dan pushed the chair up the walk. Lily scurried along beside them, fussing with the blanket that covered her husband's legs, smoothing his hair.

  When they rounded the massive crepe myrtle bush at the back corner of the house, Jacob stiffened. His oldest daughter sat in a lounge chair on the terrace.

  Jacob's bony hands gripped the arms of the wheelchair until his knuckles whitened. Even from behind, Dan knew he'd clenched his jaw.

  Maggie rose with languid grace and sent Jacob a tentative smile. "Welcome home, Daddy. How're you feeling?"

  Jacob's hard stare pinned her. Dan began to think he wasn't going to answer when suddenly he snapped, "I'm not ready to die just yet if that's what you're asking."

  "Jacob!"

  "Even if I were to, you wouldn't benefit," he added, ignoring his wife. "You may as well know, my shares of Malone Enterprises will be divided between your sisters. So if you're hanging around hoping to collect an inheritance, you're out of luck, Katherine."

  "Jacob! How could you?" Lily shot a pleading look at her daughter. "Pay no attention to him, dear. He didn't mean it. Truly. He's just out of sorts. He always gets this way when he has to stay in the hospital."

  If Dan hadn't been watching Maggie he might have missed her flinch and the flash of hurt in her magnificent green eyes.

  She recovered quickly, though, he'd give her that. In a blink the wounded look was replaced by a saucy sparkle. Paying no more attention to her mother's dithering than her father had, she heaved a theatrical sigh. "Ah, well, you win some, you lose some. I guess I'll just have to muddle along on my own salary."

  Dan almost smiled. He wondered if Jacob knew that his daughter's annual income ran well into eight figures. From his expression, he suspected the older man hadn't a clue what a top model earned.

  Not surprising. The idea of anyone being paid millions simply to pose for pictures or strut down runways would be incomprehensible to a salt-of-the-earth type like Jacob.

  "Your mother tells me she's asked you to stay, Katherine. And that you've agreed."

  "Yes, I'm staying. For Momma's sake." The amused smile remained in place, but she raised her chin a notch, those emerald eyes daring him to object.

  Dan's gaze sharpened and swung back and forth between father and daughter. What the hell kind of reunion was this? These two were circling each other like a pair of wary dogs. And what was this "Katherine" business?

  "I'm sure you're aware of my feelings on the matter. However, I do realize that the next few months are going to be difficult for your mother, and apparently it's important to her to have you here," he said in the stiffest voice Dan had ever heard him use. "I love Lily too much to deny her that comfort, but I'm warning you, girl, you cause any trouble—any at all—and you will leave this house. Is that clear?"

  "As a bell. Daddy, I'm twenty-seven, not sixteen. Believe it or not, I haven't painted a racy limerick on a water tower or attended an all-night beer bust with my school pals in over eleven years."

  "There are ways to cause trouble other than juvenile pranks, Katherine. Some quite serious. And as I recall, you were quite adept at discovering them."

  Confusion, then dawning comprehension flickered over Maggie's face. Both gave way to a devilish twinkle and a husky laugh.

  To Dan's surprise, the throaty sound sent a shaft of pure lust coursing through him.

  "Ah, I get it. I hate to disappoint you, Daddy, but I haven't seduced a man in … oh … at least a week. But if it'll make you feel better, I promise to control myself."

  Lily winced and fluttered her hands.

  "You make a joke of everything, don't you, Katherine?"

  "I try," she replied, grinning.

  The glib comeback infuriated Jacob, but whatever retort he'd been about to make died on his tongue with the appearance of the housekeeper.

  "There you are." Ida Lou bustled across the terrace carrying a tray loaded with a pitcher of iced tea and plates piled high with chicken salad and fruit. "I thought I heard your car drive up. Lunch is ready. Y'all sit yourselves down while I go fetch the rest."

  "None for me, thanks," Maggie said.

  "What nonsense is this? How'm I ever gonna fatten you up if you don't eat, child?"

  "Sorry, Ida Lou, but I'm still staffed from breakfast. In fact, I think I'll take a little walk through the orchard to work it off."

  "If you don't mind, I'll go with you. I need to get back to the cannery." Because he was watching for it, Dan saw the flicker of annoyance in Maggie's eyes, but it was quickly subdued.

  She hitched
her shoulder. "It's a free country, sugar." Without waiting for him, she headed for the terrace steps.

  "I swear, I don't know what's wrong with you young people today," Ida Lou groused. "You're gonna dry up and blow away, that's what."

  Since he was over six four and two hundred and twenty pounds, that didn't seem likely to Dan, but he merely winked at the elderly woman. "Now, Ida Lou, you know I'm crazy about your cooking, but I really need to get back to work. That is, unless you need me for something, Jacob? If you need help getting into the house I'll stay."

  "Just go on with you. I'm a healthy, able-bodied woman, aren't I? If Mr. Jacob needs help, I'll see to it just fine. Truth is, I don't know why we have to have no male nurse, anyways. Just plain foolishness, if you ask me. Some stranger underfoot all the time. Always gettin' in the way," the housekeeper muttered, stomping back to the house.

  Lily rolled her eyes. Even Jacob looked amused.

  "I'm sorry about that, Dan. Ida Lou's had her nose out of joint ever since I told her we were getting a nurse to help out," Lily explained.

  Maggie made no effort to slow down and let him catch up, though Dan was certain that she knew he was coming up behind her. Perverse woman. She flirted outrageously, then turned a cold shoulder when male company was offered.

  Those long legs of hers covered a lot of ground, but Dan's covered more, and he steadily closed the gap between them. He could have let her outdistance him, but he was curious about this oldest Malone daughter.

  Lily and Ida Lou obviously adored Maggie, and they were two fine women whose opinions he respected. However, most of what Dan had heard about her wasn't good. His own dim recollection of Maggie was of a wild, in-your-face, sassy teenager. From what he'd seen so far, the woman wasn't much improved.

  Still, he had to admit, she was a treat for the eyes.

  A man would have to be dead, blind or a eunuch not to appreciate that easy, hip-swiveling walk of hers.

  He caught up with her at the back gate, in time to reach around and hold it open for her.

  After an initial start, Maggie gave him a sultry smile and purred, "Mmm, a gentleman. Good manners are so-o-o sexy in a man."

  Dan made no comment. He hadn't figured out yet whether flirting was merely an automatic reflex for Maggie or a shield she hid behind. Either way, it meant nothing and he wasn't fool enough to snap at the bait. Or even interested.

  For several seconds they walked along in silence. The narrow dirt lane they followed through the dappled shade between the trees was an extension of the Malones' driveway and led to the old cottage in the middle of the orchard.

  The sun was starting its long, slow slide toward the western horizon. The air was redolent with the sweet scent of ripening peaches and sun-warmed earth. A light wind played through the branches, and the leaves ruffled with a papery whisper. Out of habit, Dan scanned the bobbing fruit for ripeness and any sign of infestation or blight.

  This section would be ready for the pickers by the middle of the following week, he decided. Scowling at the green shoots poking up through the rich red dirt, he made a mental note to start a crew weeding in this section at first light Monday morning.

  Maggie gave a husky chuckle and waved away a persistent butterfly fluttering around her bright hair. The sound drew Dan's attention. He studied her out of the corner of his eye, and irritation rippled over his skin like prickly rash. Jesus, the woman was absurdly beautiful. In all the glossy magazine pictures he'd seen of Maggie over the years, she'd looked so stunning it took your breath away, nothing at all like the scrawny, funny-looking kid he and everyone else in Rudy Falls remembered.

  He'd chalked up her impact to the artistry of makeup and photography, and perhaps a weird affinity for the camera lens, and dismissed her. He'd always figured that if he ever saw her again in the flesh she wouldn't look so hot. At the very least, he'd be able to spot some flaws. Damned if there were any that he could see. She wore a minimum of makeup, yet her skin was porcelain-smooth and the color of cream. Not a freckle in sight. Unusual for a redhead.

  Her features were perfection, or as close as humans were likely to come, he thought sourly—high cheekbones, delicate nose, firm jawline, luscious lips and big green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. The last were framed by winged auburn brows and lashes so long and thick he would have sworn they were fake if he hadn't been close enough to see otherwise.

  And that hair. That alone was enough to drive a man over the edge. He didn't even like the woman, but still his fingers itched to dive into that sexy mane, feel it slide across his skin.

  Jesus! Get a grip, Garrett, he silently berated himself. This is Maggie Malone, the town hell-raiser, you're drooling over.

  Still, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to tear away his gaze from that glorious hair.

  It was the color of flame, shiny as satin, and so thick and curly it seemed to have a life of its own. Yesterday, it had been wind-tossed and loose. Today, pulled up in a banana clip, it cascaded down her back in a riot of curls, only slightly more tame. When struck by the sunlight coming through the trees it caught fire.

  Very few true redheads ever made it big in modeling, he'd noticed. But then few had Maggie's vibrance.

  It was more than just her coloring, spectacular as that was. There was that self-assured walk, the proud tilt of her head. She almost crackled with a feisty "look out world, here I come" kind of sass.

  It showed in the laughter that so often danced in her eyes and tugged at the corners of those full lips. As if she had a secret that no one else knew.

  That touch of mystery was intriguing as hell, and almost impossible to resist, beckoning to a man, daring him to try to discover what lay behind that devilish twinkle.

  Small wonder she had rocketed to the top of the modeling world only a few short months after landing in New York. In a field dominated by cool, sophisticated blondes and sultry brunettes, Maggie Malone stood out like a bright butterfly in a flock of moths.

  And apparently, she was just as elusive and aloof as that pretty creature.

  Strolling along with her fingertips stuck in the back pockets of her jeans, her gaze drifting around the orchard, Maggie had tuned him out as though he weren't there.

  "Looks like I was wrong about Jacob wanting to see you."

  She jumped at the sound of his voice, then slanted him a droll look out of the corner of her eye. "Gee, ya think?"

  "It was a natural assumption. Most fathers and daughters would be happy to see each other after so long apart."

  "I'm sure that's true," she concurred agreeably. Her mouth twitched. "But then, Daddy and I have never been like 'most fathers and daughters'."

  Dan waited for her to elaborate, but she focused her gaze straight ahead and resumed her silent stroll.

  "Judging from that exchange between you two back there, I gather it's safe to assume that old story about you is true?"

  She chuckled, but it was a bitter sound that had little to do with mirth. "And which story would that be, sugar? Don't forget, I was the gossips' favorite target for years. For all I know, I may still be. There are more rumors about me flying around this town than there are peaches on a tree."

  "The one about Jacob throwing you out because you tried to seduce your sister's fiancé."

  "Oh. That one."

  The change in her demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. All trace of amusement vanished from her eyes. She withdrew her hands from her back pockets, folded her arms across her midriff and seemed to draw into herself.

  "So, did you do it or not?"

  Maggie gave a startled laugh. "You sure are plainspoken, aren't you. I've known you less than twenty-four hours, and twice already you've been painfully direct. No shilly-shallying around for you, just go straight for the heart of the matter."

  Dan shrugged. "It's honest and leaves little room for misunderstanding."

  "True, but I wouldn't try for the diplomatic corps if I were you."

  Maggie fell silent again, and Dan real
ized that the little jibe at his manner had merely been an attempt to sidetrack him.

  "Aren't you even going to bother to deny the story?" he prodded after a moment. "Most women would if they knew a rumor like that was circulating about them."

  She shot him another one of those looks, and for a moment he thought she wasn't going to answer. Then she shrugged. "Why should I bother? My father thinks I'm guilty. Therefore, so does everyone else in town."

  "Is that a yes or a no?"

  "It's whatever you want it to be, sugar. I stopped defending myself to the people of this town years ago."

  Interesting. It wasn't exactly a denial, but it wasn't a confession, either.

  "Are you saying you don't care what people think of you?"

  "I'm saying that people are going to believe what they want to believe, and there isn't a blessed thing I can do about it. And you can bet your boots that everyone around here wants to believe I'm guilty. I've got about as much chance of convincing them otherwise as I do of jumping over the moon. So why should I tie myself up in knots trying?"

  "Maybe. But some would say that a person who is wrongly accused would at least deny it."

  Maggie stopped and turned to face him, forcing him to come to a halt, as well. "What is this about? Why do you care whether I'm guilty or innocent, anyway?"

  "I don't. My only concern is what effect your being here will have on Jacob. He's sick and weak, and he has a lot of business worries to contend with. He doesn't need any more on his plate right now. So if you came back here with any idea of coming between Laurel and her husband, or stirring up any kind of trouble that might upset your father, it would be best if you just turn around and head back to New York right now."

  Maggie managed a smile, but it was strained and it didn't reach those snapping green eyes. "Oh, really? You know, sugar, I hate to tell you this, but my relationship with my father is none of your business."

  "Too bad. I'm making it my business. Jacob Malone is a fine, decent man. In my book, they don't come any better. He's honest and absolutely fair with everyone. I figure, if he's got a problem with you, he's got good cause.