“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I went to the Hollow.” He waited to watch her reaction, but all he read in her eyes was confusion.
“Why?”
“I had to get some answers,” he said. “Now I have them—along with more questions.”
“What are you talking about, Kellan?”
He dipped his head close to hers and whispered, “I’m talking about Darius Taylor-Pratt.”
She stiffened in his arms and that told Kellan all he needed to know. He lifted his head and saw the truth written plainly in her eyes. She was aware of his half brother. Had known all along and hadn’t told him.
“We need to talk,” he muttered. Keeping a tight grip on her hand, he led her off the dance floor and through the crowded party room. He nodded to those they passed but didn’t slow down.
If she said anything, it was lost in the rise and fall of the noise level in the building. Laughter, snatches of conversation came to him, but he ignored it all. He passed a couple under the mistletoe and wondered if there were secrets between them, too.
It was too cold outside for the conversation he wanted, so Kellan led her to the back, where the currently deserted childcare center was located. Drawing her into the room, he closed the door behind him and looked at her, trying to see her with new, more jaded eyes.
The room was filled with tiny chairs, short tables and colorful rugs. Shelves held what looked like hundreds of storybooks, and there were at least a dozen easels arrayed along the back wall, standing like soldiers waiting to be called into battle.
Irina rubbed her hands up and down her own arms as if she were chilled and he almost offered her his jacket, when he realized it wasn’t cold she was feeling, but nerves.
“What’s happening, Kellan?”
“Don’t,” he ordered, shaking his head and steeling himself against the shine in her forest green eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Not anymore.”
For a moment, it looked as though she might try to put on an act after all, but then she sighed and admitted, “Yes, I knew about Darius.”
“And didn’t tell me,” he ground out, feeling that hard slam of truth steal his breath.
“I couldn’t,” she argued. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
“That’s crap, Irina,” he said tightly, keeping a close rein on the temper pumping inside him. “You brought that briefcase—those files—to my house. You showed me my file.”
“Yes,” she said. “I wanted you to see it. To know that Buck cared. That he knew about you and your life. That you mattered.”
Amazed that she was still defending what she’d done, he asked, “But you didn’t think that my half brother mattered? Is that it?”
“Of course he does,” she snapped. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“Because you’re not telling me why you did this.” He took a step closer to her and a part of him noticed that she didn’t back up. Didn’t retreat. And he admired her for it even while furious. “You should have told me, Irina. I had a right to know. So did Sophie and Vaughn.”
“I know you do and you would have found out. When Buck wanted you to.”
He threw both hands up. “Why do we care what the hell Buck wants? He’s dead. What he wants doesn’t matter anymore. The rest of us are still here. Still living. Still wanting answers.”
Her chin tipped up and her eyes narrowed on him. “And you’d do anything to get those answers?”
“Damn straight.” He pushed his jacket back and stuffed his hands into his pockets, more to keep from instinctively reaching for Irina than anything else.
Nodding, she locked her gaze on his and he read sorrow and anger there. “That’s why you’ve been so good to me,” she said quietly and Kellan was stunned.
“What?”
“This,” she said, waving her hands to indicate her dress, his tux. “You asking me to this dance. You taking me to Nashville. Spending every night with me in your bed.” She huffed out a breath. “God, I’m a fool again. It’s all been a ploy, hasn’t it? To get information about the will. To expose Buck’s secrets.”
“Are you kidding?” he demanded. “You’re actually trying to say I’m the one who was sneaking around? Holding back information? You’re the one who’s been using me.”
She laughed shortly and it sounded painful. “How? How, Kellan? Did I seduce you? Were you swept off your feet and made to feel important? Were you caught off guard by romance? Did you fall in love?” Her eyes filled, but she blinked the tears back, thank God.
Panic jolted him. “Who said anything about love?”
“I did. Weren’t you listening?”
“Damn it, don’t turn this around,” he said. Kellan didn’t want to think about love. Love wasn’t the point. Trust was. “And don’t change the subject. This is about you betraying me.”
“No, it’s not, Kellan,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “This is about you finding a reason to leave. To walk away from me and whatever future we might have had in favor of clinging to memories of Shea.”
“This isn’t about her,” he said, feeling a brand-new jolt of anger.
“It’s always about Shea,” Irina told him, walking closer so that she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. She didn’t back down from him or what she was saying. Instead, she stared him square in the eye and said, “You’re constantly telling everyone ‘Buck’s dead,’ expecting people to brush the man off and move on. According to you, he doesn’t matter. His wishes don’t matter.
“Well, Kellan, Shea’s dead, too.”
He flinched.
“You’re not married to her any longer, Kellan. She doesn’t decide your present or your future. She’s your past. A big part of it and one that should never be forgotten. But you cling to her ghost. You use her as a weapon, to keep everyone else away from you.” She drew a deep breath and said, “Congratulations. It worked. You’re alone. You’ll always be alone.
“And I feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t need your sympathy.” How had this turned on him?
“You have it anyway. Because I love you, Kellan.”
Pain shot through his chest, because it wasn’t love he read on her features, but goodbye. And still she wasn’t finished.
Her green eyes were shining with temper, sorrow, regret, and all three of those emotions reached for his heart and squeezed.
“You’ll never know what it would be like to have my love in your life every day. Neither of us will ever know what we might have had together. Because time after time, you choose the past over the future.” She stepped around him and walked to the door. Opening it, she paused, looked back over her shoulder and said, “I wish you and Shea good luck.”
Then she was gone.
Eleven
“He makes me so angry.” Two days later, Irina was still fuming as she paced the length of Blackwood Hollow’s great room.
“Yes, that’s what men do,” Miranda supplied, her gaze following Irina’s every step.
“Well, Kellan is very good at it.” She turned around to face the other woman, curled up on a couch in front of the roaring fire. “He thinks I lied to him.”
“Well...”
“It wasn’t a lie,” Irina argued when she thought Miranda might see Kellan’s side of things. Because she really hadn’t lied to him at all. “I simply couldn’t tell him the whole truth about Darius because it wasn’t my secret to tell.”
And yes, she’d felt guilty about that. Every time she was with Kellan and had to remain silent about his brother and other things she knew he would want to know, she’d felt pangs of regret. But she had owed Buck so much she couldn’t break the promise she’d made him.
“I know that.” Miranda held up both hands, one of which was holding a glass of straw-colored wine.
“Buck t
old me about his other son, before he died, Miranda. I think he needed to talk to someone. I blame Kellan for not understanding.” And she did. It had been two days since the Christmas party and she hadn’t heard from him. It was as if he had packed up his ghost of Shea and left town. But she knew he hadn’t. Gossip was still the oil that kept Royal moving, so she’d heard that he was still on his ranch.
“Of course he’s staying,” she said to herself more than Miranda. “He won’t leave until he gets to the bottom of everything.”
The twinkling lights in the room seemed to mock her with their electric joy. Thanks to Kellan, she couldn’t even appreciate the trees or the lights. Instead, they were all a reminder that she would be alone this Christmas, too.
“Just like his father,” Miranda said wryly. “Ironic, don’t you think, that Kellan considered his father a giant pain in the ass and he’s turned out just like Buck?”
Irina dropped onto the sofa, picked up her own glass of wine and did what she could to wind down. It wasn’t working, of course, because she could still hear Kellan’s voice. Could still see the look in his eyes when he accused her of betraying him. He thought she’d been working against him. How could he believe that? How could he be with her and not know her—the core heart of her?
“I’m so angry and so—”
“Hurt?” Miranda offered.
“Yes,” Irina admitted. “That, too. And disappointed. How could he believe I would do anything to deliberately damage him?”
“And we come back to... He’s a man. They don’t really think, you know.” Miranda took a long sip. “For men, it’s all about the penis.”
Irina snorted her wine. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, did I embarrass you?” Miranda didn’t look sorry. “What thinking they actually do is done with their penises.” She tipped her head to one side to consider. “Or is the plural peni? Doesn’t matter. Anyway, it’s all about whatever could be considered the ‘manly’ thing. What makes them bolder, stronger, richer. That’s what drives them. It always comes down to size with a man.”
“Miranda...”
“Sorry,” she said again and this time it looked like she meant it. “I think I’m a little drunk. My point is, I am sorry you, too, are getting screwed by trying to help Buck.”
“It’s all right. I’ll live.”
Miranda groaned. “God, this is all such a mess.”
“It really is.” Irina agreed. “As far as my life goes, this is all on Kellan. If he’d trusted me. If he’d waited. Given Buck the benefit of the doubt...”
“I get why he couldn’t, you know.” Miranda laid her head back on the sofa. “Buck could be a son of a bitch at times.” She sighed. “When I first met him, I sort of liked that about him. He was the take-charge type. And I did love him, you know. Once.” A sad smile crossed her face briefly. “But he didn’t make it easy. And being one of his kids had to be more difficult than being his wife. At least, when I’d had enough, I could leave.”
Irina knew that Kellan’s father had been a hard man. But it wasn’t all Buck was. And Kellan didn’t have to carry on that tradition, did he? Miranda was right. Kellan was so much like the father he still resented and he just didn’t see it. He could have come to her. Asked for answers instead of demanding them. Could have believed in her enough to listen. Instead, he chose to think the worst, and for that...
Her heart hurt. She felt as if she could hardly breathe. She hadn’t slept since the party. All she’d been able to do was go over and over that last conversation with him. She wished it had gone differently. Wished especially that she hadn’t told him she loved him, because now she didn’t even have her pride to keep her warm.
Sighing, she took another sip of wine, looked at Miranda and said, “We’re so wrapped up in the drama it’s hard to see past it all. But, when this is all over, what will you do?”
“That’s a very good question.” Miranda studied her own wine and said thoughtfully, “I guess that depends on how it ends.”
* * *
“He looks a lot like Dad, doesn’t he?” Sophie studied Kellan’s phone and the picture he’d taken of Darius Taylor-Pratt.
“’Course he does,” Vaughn said, taking the phone from his sister. He glanced at Kellan. “We all do. Why should our brother be any different?”
“We have another brother,” Sophie said with a laugh. “For me, another older brother. Yippee.”
Kellan smiled briefly. Sophie had always complained about how he and Vaughn had hovered over her. Keeping the boys at bay, checking up on her all the time. He wasn’t surprised at her attitude. “Yeah, you’re still the baby.”
“Great,” she said. “Hey, maybe Dad has another one who’s younger than me out there somewhere. I could finally get the chance to push someone around.”
“Like you don’t do that to us?” Kellan shook his head.
Sophie just smiled.
“Wouldn’t surprise me to hear there are more siblings out there.” Vaughn said. “The old man wasn’t exactly a saint.”
“True.” Kellan took his phone back to study his half brother’s face. It said something, didn’t it, that none of them were really shocked at the news. Buck had left behind a legacy of secrets. What was one more?
“So, does he know?” Sophie asked and Kellan smiled again.
She’d always had a soft heart. Of course Sophie was worried about how Darius was taking this.
“I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway. Hell, we weren’t supposed to know yet.” And it still bothered him. How much more was there that he and his brother and sister weren’t being told? Correction: brothers.
“Where does he live?” Vaughn asked. “Darius, I mean.”
“California. Pasadena, I think the file said.”
“Well, of course he doesn’t live around here,” Sophie put in. “If he lived anywhere near Royal, we’d already have known about him. No one keeps a secret in this town.”
Except Irina. Kellan frowned to himself, remembering their last conversation. She’d looked hurt. Insulted. He pushed one hand through his hair, trying to somehow wipe her image from his mind. It didn’t work, though. She was with him. All the time. Her smile. Her frown. Her voice. Her laugh.
Irina had become a part of him and without her...
“I like your Christmas tree,” Sophie told him. “I’m surprised to see one in your house, but I like it.”
He should have taken it down after that confrontation with Irina. She was the reason that tree was in the room and now every time he looked at it, he was reminded that she wasn’t at the house anymore. Kellan shot Sophie a quelling look, but as usual, it had no power over his sister.
“You did it for Irina, didn’t you?” She gave a dramatic sigh. “So romantic.”
Vaughn snorted. “A Christmas tree is romantic?”
“No,” Kellan interrupted before the two of them got going. “It’s not.” Not anymore, anyway.
“So where is Irina these days?” Vaughn looked at him. “Haven’t seen her lately.”
“She’s busy,” Kellan said shortly. He didn’t want to discuss any of this with these two. Hell, Kellan didn’t want to even think about it.
But that wasn’t happening. He hadn’t been able to think of anything but Irina since that night at the TCC. He could still see her eyes, swimming in tears she refused to shed. The defiant tilt to her chin when she faced him down. And he heard her, too, in his mind, his heart. Heard her tell him she loved him when she’d called him out about dismissing his father after death and enshrouding his wife after she died.
He hadn’t argued. Hadn’t been able to. Because it was all true. He had done exactly that and it pissed him off now to realize that for seven years, he’d been stalwartly holding on to Shea’s memory like a damn flaming torch. He always said he didn’t want people’s sympathy, but wasn’t that exactly what he was s
ilently demanding when he couldn’t let her go?
God, his head ached.
“Hey, you don’t look so good,” Vaughn commented. “You’re not mad about a new brother, are you?”
“What? No. Hell, he might be an improvement on you.”
“Thanks very much.” Vaughn slumped in his chair and took a sip of his beer.
“What about you two?” Kellan asked. “How do you feel about Darius?”
“I’m kind of excited by it,” Sophie admitted. “I mean, when you’re an adult, you don’t often get a new brother or sister. So I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
“What about you?” Kellan asked.
Vaughn shrugged and gave him a sly smile. “Hey, I’m all for having a younger brother for a change. Maybe I can order him around like you do me.”
“Takes practice,” Kellan warned.
“Well, hell, no wonder you’re so good at it.”
“So did you and Irina have a fight?” Sophie asked out of the blue.
Kellan looked at her. Were all women psychic?
“Just apologize for being a boob and everything will be fine.”
Insulted, he asked her, “How do you know it was my fault?”
Sophie laughed. “Please. Of course it was your fault, Kellan. You’re you.” Shaking her head, she said, “You’re as bossy as Dad was and just as inflexible sometimes. So apologize. Fix it. I like her.”
“I like her, too,” Vaughn said. “And yeah, it was your fault.”
“Thanks for the support.” Disgusted with his family, Kellan hoped to hell that when they finally met, Darius Taylor-Pratt would take his side for a change.
Apologize. He could. He’d been considering it for days.
But what if he hadn’t been wrong?
* * *
Kace LeBlanc faced Kellan the next morning over a cup of coffee in the diner. Kellan wasn’t really in any frame of mind for talking to his old friend, but when Kace called, asking for a meeting, he felt like he couldn’t say no. Now he was second-guessing that decision.
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