“I was thinking maybe I’d slip away and take a nap,” Jessie said wistfully.
“Resting up before the big battle,” Luke noted. “A good idea.”
“You could do the same,” she suggested daringly, casting a sly look up at him. If the way his jaw was working was any indication, he did not mistake the seductive intent of the invitation.
“Darlin’, believe me, that would be a declaration of war,” he advised her.
Jessie was up for it. And Luke, she knew with every fiber of her being, was tempted. She winked at him. “One of these days you’re going to take me up on it,” she taunted him.
“Not in this lifetime,” he said emphatically.
Jessie just grinned. She had a feeling deep inside that he was wrong. He was going to cave in far sooner than he thought. She could hardly wait.
Chapter Thirteen
With Jessie resting in her suite, Luke paced up and down in his own, trying to cool off before confronting his father with what he’d discovered. Walking into a room and hurling accusations after months of separation would hardly get their relationship back on track. Still, he couldn’t help wondering if Harlan made a habit of investigating any woman with whom any of his sons were involved. If that were the case, Jordan and Cody would probably send him into bankruptcy. Luke took a sort of grim pleasure in the prospect. He’d often wondered if his father would ever have to pay the price for his attempted control of his sons.
When he finally considered his temper calm and his approach reasonable, he bounded down the stairs two at a time and headed straight for Harlan’s office.
He found his father seated behind a massive desk piled high with files and spread sheets. Wearing a pair of reading glasses, he was squinting at a computer screen, a sour expression on his once-rugged face. Except for the glasses and perhaps a new wrinkle or two, the scene of his father engrossed in work was so familiar that it made Luke’s heart ache.
The glasses and the faint signs of aging, though, reminded him of just how long he’d been away. It wasn’t just since Erik’s death, but all the years since he’d declared his independence from Harlan’s manipulations and moved to his own ranch. He wondered how many other subtle changes there had been since he’d gone.
Harlan glanced up at Luke’s entrance. “So, there you are,” he said.
His pleasure at seeing Luke was betrayed by his eyes, even though his tone was neutral. He almost sounded uncertain, Luke thought with surprise. It was a far cry from the usual arrogance. He couldn’t help welcoming the change.
“About time,” Harlan grumbled, his tone more in character. “I wondered where the hell you’d disappeared to. Your mother didn’t even know you’d arrived. Wouldn’t have known it myself except one of the trucks was missing.”
“I had an errand in town. Jessie came along and we had lunch,” he added with his usual touch of defiance. Even after all this time, it was a knee-jerk reaction, he realized with a sense of chagrin. If his father commented on the weather, Luke found some reason to counter his claim.
His father nodded, ignoring the testiness. “Fresh air probably did her good. She looked a mite peaked to me last night.”
“She just had a baby,” Luke reminded him.
His father’s expression finally shifted to permit a small hint of approval. “Cute little thing, isn’t she?” he said with a note of pride. “Looks like an Adams.”
“I was thinking she looked like Jessie,” Luke countered, just to be contrary…again.
Harlan shrugged, not rising to the bait. “Who can tell at that age?” he admitted. “You boys all looked exactly alike when you were born.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Not a one of you turned out the same, though, in looks or personality. I never could make sense of how that happened.”
“We all got your stubborn streak, though,” Luke reminded him.
Harlan chuckled at that. “I like to blame that particular trait on your mama. Makes her crazy.”
“I can imagine.”
Harlan settled back in his chair and studied Luke intently. “You look tired. Why’d you really come home, son? You have something on your mind?”
“I just thought it was about time for a visit,” Luke replied noncommittally.
“Your mother’s going to be mighty glad to see you.”
Luke doubted it. Mary Adams was too caught up in her own social whirl and in her husband to pay much mind to the comings and goings of her sons. He was more interested in his father’s reaction. They had never parted without some sort of petty squabble, probably just the clash of two strong wills. Since Erik’s death the tension had been greater than ever.
“And you?” he asked, watching his father’s expression closely.
His father seemed taken aback by the question. “That goes without saying,” he said at once. “This is your home, boy. Always will be.”
Luke sighed, relieved yet still incapable of fully believing the easy answer. “I wasn’t so sure you felt that way after the way Erik died,” he said cautiously. “It’s understandable that you might blame me for what happened.”
“Is that what’s kept you away from here?”
Luke shrugged. “Part of it.”
“Well, you were wrong. Your brother died because he was a reckless fool,” his father snapped angrily, “not because of anything you did.”
Luke was startled by the depth of emotion. He suspected there was a heavy measure of guilt behind the anger, but hell would freeze over before Harlan would admit to it. Still, the reaction worked to his advantage. With his father’s usual control snapped, it seemed like the perfect moment to get an honest answer from him.
“I wonder how he would have felt if he’d known you had Jessie investigated,” Luke inquired casually, his gaze pinned to his father’s face. “It might have given him the gumption to go after the life he really wanted.”
Harlan’s skin turned ashen. “What the devil do you know about that?” he demanded indignantly, unsuspectingly confirming Luke’s suspicions. “And what business is it of yours, if I did?”
Luke refused to be drawn into an argument over ethics, morality or just plain trust. He had his own agenda here. “Find out anything interesting?” he inquired lightly.
“Nothing worth stopping the wedding over, which you obviously knew already.” He leveled a look at Luke. “Like I asked before, what business is this of yours? It happened a long time ago. If anyone should have told me to mind my own business, it was Erik, but he never said peep.”
“Maybe because he was too damned trusting to suspect you’d do something like that. I’m not nearly so gullible where you’re concerned. I know how manipulative you can be. I like Jessie. I don’t like to think that you don’t trust her.”
“Is that it?” Harlan demanded with a penetrating look. “Or is it something more?”
Luke felt as if he were standing at the edge of a mine field with one foot already in the air for his next fateful step. “Like what?”
“Like maybe your interest in her is personal.”
“Well, of course it’s personal,” he snapped, hoping to divert his father from making too much of his defense of Jessie by admitting straight out that he cared for her as he would for any other family member. It was a risky tactic. It appeared his father had been far more attuned to the undercurrents around White Pines than he’d realized.
“She’s my sister-in-law,” he pointed out. “She just delivered my niece in my bed a few days ago. I’d say that gives me cause to take an interest in her.”
“And that’s all there is to it?” Harlan inquired, skepticism written all over his face.
“Of course.” Luke uttered the claim with what he hoped was enough vehemence. His father still didn’t exactly look as if he believed him, but to Luke’s relief he appeared willing to let the matter drop.
“You found out she was adopted, didn’t you?” Luke prodded.
“Already knew that. Erik told us.”
“Did you find out
anything about her family?”
“Now who’s asking too many questions?”
Luke scowled at him. “Just answer me. I have my reasons for asking.”
“So did I,” Harlan said testily.
Luke stood. “Never mind. I can see this was a waste of time.”
“Oh, for goodness sakes, settle down. Yes, I found out about her family. They were good, decent, church-going people. Paid their bills on time. Gave her a good education. There was nothing to find fault with there.”
“I meant her biological family.”
An expression of pure frustration spread across his father’s rough-hewn features. “Couldn’t get anywhere with that. Didn’t seem worth chasing after, once I’d met her. My gut instinct is never wrong and it told me right off that Jessie’s honest as they come. If I hadn’t known it before, there was no mistaking it when she walked away from here without a cent after Erik died. She’s a gutsy little thing, too stubborn for her own good, if you ask me.”
“An interesting assessment coming from you,” Luke observed.
Harlan’s expression turned sheepish. “So it is.”
Luke decided he’d better get out of his father’s office before Harlan picked up the issue of Luke’s feelings for Jessie and pursued it. He’d diverted his father once, but Harlan was too damned perceptive for Luke to keep his emotions hidden from him for long. A few probing questions, a few evasive answers and the truth would be plain as day.
“I think I’ll go hunt down Mother,” he told his father.
“I believe you’ll find her in the parlor reading or planning some social schedule,” Harlan said with a grimace. He turned back to his computer and sighed. “You know anything about these danged things?”
“Enough to get by,” Luke said.
“Maybe you could give me a few pointers later. At the rate I’m going, this year’s records won’t even be programmed before next year.”
Surprised by the request, Luke nodded. “I’d be happy to.” It was the first time he could ever recall his father admitting that one of his sons might have an expertise he didn’t. That single request went a long way toward mending fences, hinting that perhaps they could finally find a new footing for their relationship, one of equals. Respect was all he’d ever really craved from his father. He’d known he had his love, but true respect had been far harder to come by.
Just as Luke reached the door, his father called after him. “It really is good to have you home again, son. This house was built for the whole family. Never realized how empty it would be one day.”
Luke felt an unexpected lump form in his throat. He’d discovered the same thing about his own house recently, as well. For a few brief days it had felt like a home. “Thanks, Daddy,” he said. “It’s good to be here.”
Oddly enough, he realized as he walked away, it was true. It was unexpectedly good to be home. He wondered just how much of that could be attributed to Jessie’s presence upstairs and whether from now on “home” to him would always be wherever she was.
* * *
That night as he dressed for dinner, Luke conceded that his prediction of his mother’s reaction to seeing him had been right on target. She had been superficially pleased when she’d greeted him, but within minutes she’d been distracted by a flurry of phone calls from friends confirming holiday plans. He’d been only too glad to escape to his suite, where he waited impatiently for some news from Jim Hill. He doubted his mother had even noticed when he left the parlor.
Upstairs, he spent a restless hour wishing he still had a right to head out to his father’s barns and work the horses. He needed some hard exercise to combat the stress of being home again, of being so close to a woman he hungered for and couldn’t have. His shoulders ached with tension. His nerves were on edge. He would have gone out and chopped wood, if he hadn’t seen a woodpile big enough to last till spring.
He supposed the real truth was that he’d been feeling tense and out of sorts ever since Jessie had appeared on his doorstep. It was as if he were being ripped apart inside, torn between desire and honor. If he’d thought his emotions were frayed at his ranch, he realized now that the necessity for watching every word, every glance while under his father’s roof only compounded the problem. His conscience, never something he’d worried too much about before Erik’s marriage to Jessie, was taking a royal beating.
Eventually he tired of pacing. Worn out by tangling with his own thoughts, he started back downstairs. Outside Jessie’s door, he heard Angela crying and Lara’s unsuccessful attempts to quiet her. He hesitated, wondering where Jessie was. Perhaps she had already gone downstairs.
He tapped on the door and opened it. The young Mexican girl, her cheeks flushed, her hair mussed, was frantically rocking the crying baby. The jerky movement was not having a soothing effect. Quite the contrary, in fact.
“What’s the problem?”
“I cannot get her to sleep,” Lara whispered, sounding panicked. “No matter what I do, she cries.”
“Where’s Jessie?”
“With the se;atnora.”
“Has the baby been fed?”
“S;aai. Only a short time ago.”
Luke crossed the room in a few quick strides, then reached down and took the baby from Lara. She fit into his arms as if she belonged there, her warm little body snuggling against his chest. Her gulping cries turned to whimpers almost at once.
“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s your Uncle Luke, sweet pea. What’s with all the noise? Were you feeling abandoned there for a minute?” He glanced at Lara and saw that an expression of relief had spread across her face. “How was she while we were out this afternoon?”
“Like an angel, Se;atnor Luke. She slept most of the time. I thought she would go to sleep again as soon as she had eaten.”
Luke rubbed the baby’s back. A tiny hand waved in the air, then settled against his cheek. As if she found the contact familiar and comforting, she quieted at once. That strange sense of completeness stole over him again.
Luke made a decision. “Lara, why don’t you take a break for a few hours. I think our little angel ought to join the rest of us for dinner.”
“But la se;atnora said…”
Luke tried to recall exactly how many times he’d heard his mother’s edicts repeated in just that way by Consuela, by his father, even his teachers. Mary Adams’s influence had been felt everywhere in his life, at least when she chose to exert it. “Let me worry about my mother. Have your dinner. Go on out for the evening. We can manage here.”
“S;aai, if that is your wish,” she said with obvious reluctance.
“It is,” he assured her.
He found a soft pink baby blanket, obviously a new addition since he doubted there would have been anything pink in the assortment of items his mother had saved from her sons. Wrapping Angela loosely in the blanket, he cradled her in one arm and gathered a few spare diapers and a bottle with his other hand. He eyed a can of baby powder, debated a couple of toys, but abandoned them when he couldn’t figure out how to pick them up.
“Remind me to get you one of those fancy carry things,” he told the baby, who regarded him with wide-eyed fascination. “I don’t have enough hands to carry this much paraphernalia. Things were a whole lot less complicated at my house, before you got outfitted with the best supplies money could buy.”
Angela gurgled her agreement.
“You know what I love most about you, sweet pea? You go along with everything I say. Be careful with all that adoration, though. It’ll give a guy a swelled head. I don’t want to give away any trade secrets. After all, we men should really stick together when it comes to women, but for you I’ll make an exception. If there’s any heartbreaking to be done, I want you to be the one who does it. You need advice about some jerk, you come to me. Is it a deal?”
The baby cooed on cue. Luke grinned.
“You understood every word, didn’t you? Well, now that we’ve settled how you should go about dealing with
men, let’s go find your mama and your grandparents. Not that I’m so crazy about sharing you, you understand, but the truth is I’m not always going to be around. You need to have other folks you can count on, too. Your mama’s one of the best. And nobody on earth will protect you from harm any better than your granddaddy. He’s fierce when it comes to taking care of his own. Just don’t let him bully you.”
Angela yawned.
“Okay, okay, I get the message. I’m boring you. Let’s go, then.”
Downstairs, he located the rest of the family in the parlor. He found the varying reactions fascinating—and telling. His mother looked vaguely dismayed by the sight of Angela in his arms, just as she had when any of her own children had slipped downstairs during a grown-up party. His father grinned, unable to hide his pleasure or his pride, just as he had when showing off his sons to company. Jessie seemed resigned at the sight of her daughter comfortably settled against Luke’s chest.
“Where on earth is Lara?” his mother demanded at once. “I am paying that girl to look after the baby.”
Before Luke could say a word, Jessie jumped in. “Don’t blame Lara. I suspect your son is responsible for this. Is that right, Luke?”
Luke shrugged, refusing to apologize. “She was crying.”
“Babies cry,” his mother said irritably. “Picking them up will only spoil them.”
“Oh, for goodness sakes, Mary, she’s a newborn,” Harlan countered. “There’s nothing wrong with giving her a little extra attention. Besides, I want to get to know my first grandbaby. Bring her here, Luke.”
He eagerly held out his arms. Luke placed the baby in them and wondered at the oddly bereft feeling that instantly came over him. He moved over and took a seat by Jessie, gravitating almost unconsciously to her warmth as an alternative to the strange sort of serenity he felt when holding the baby.
As soon as he sat down, though, he realized his mistake. Jessie represented more than warmth. She exuded heat and passion, at least to him. His body responded at once, predictably and with the kind of urgency he hadn’t known since his teens.
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