“She’d left a note. Thank God our nosey housekeeper read it and called me. The note said she couldn’t live like this anymore. I left her alone all the time. She was in pain. She was afraid for the boys.” A sound like a sob choked him. “She rambled on. I couldn’t understand her, but something in the things she said scared me, so I called your grandmother. She hadn’t seen Amanda or you boys—didn’t even know you were coming. So I had no choice. I called the state police.
“They found the car eventually, parked on a deserted logging road. She told them she was just sitting there, waiting to get up the courage to take Luke and Garrett for a walk. Just sitting there with them in the backseat and that Colt .38 on her lap.”
The senator’s eyes were red-rimmed as he looked toward Peg. “I called in some favors—kept her from being institutionalized. I tried to get her help, but I couldn’t allow her around the boys until I knew she was all right. I was just as much to blame for not being there when she needed me. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake with my sons.”
Peg was crying softly.
“The worst part was she knew what she’d planned to do, and she couldn’t forgive herself. It was her idea to leave. Said she couldn’t trust herself and I shouldn’t, either. God have mercy on me . . . I was afraid she was right. So I did the best I could by her. Saw she got medical care and enough money to make a life for herself.”
“Bullshit!”
Rachel jumped.
Garrett’s fists clenched and unclenched. The muscle in his jaw flexed in time with his steps as he stomped toward his father’s chair. “Why don’t I remember that?”
“You were too young.” Senator Harding didn’t look up as his son towered over him.
“Don’t you think that at some point in my life—in Luke’s—it would have been helpful to know if our mother had intended to kill us? Instead, you swept it all under the rug. For twenty-nine years. And when she got well and tried to contact us, you hid that from us, too. Is that what you call being there for us, Dad? How am I supposed to believe any of that even happened?”
Harding raised his head and met Garrett’s angry gaze. “It happened, son. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck!” Garrett practically roared his frustration, turned, and strode down the path that led to the front of the lodge. Halfway there he evidently remembered the dog. “Cowboy—front and center.” Cowboy leaped to his feet and raced to catch up to his master. A few seconds of silence later, Garrett’s Jeep started up and peeled out on the loose gravel.
Chapter Seventeen
BY THE TIME Garrett got a grip on his blinding anger, he’d been driving for over an hour, following the winding mountain roads, if you could call them that, deeper into the backcountry. As the shitload of pain in his chest began to lessen, he gradually relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. Releasing the pressure on the gas pedal, he let the Jeep coast down a short incline, noticing for the first time the breathtaking view of foothills far below the ridge he skirted.
Cowboy sat on the passenger seat, his head hanging out the open window. Every few minutes an anxious whine blew back into the cab.
Guilt got the best of Garrett, and he pulled into a wide spot beside the one-lane road. He ruffled the dog’s coat and scratched under his chin when Cowboy turned his head, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “Sorry, boy. You don’t deserve this. Just because I’m pissed off at the world doesn’t mean I get to act like an ass and take it out on you. Besides, it’s not going to change a damn thing.”
Cowboy wagged his tail and studied him with soft brown eyes as though telling him it was about damn time he stopped feeling sorry for himself.
What in the hell was he doing, anyway? And where was he? Garrett shook his head at the overgrown trail he had followed nearly to the top of a rugged mountain thick with pine trees and fir. No damn wonder Cowboy was nervous.
He threw the Jeep in reverse and began jockeying around until he was headed back the way they’d come. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d acted, but even now Garrett was unable to pinpoint one person he wasn’t ticked off at, with the possible exception of Aunt Peg. If he believed his father, his mother had very nearly killed him and his brother. His old man had lied to him all his life, telling him his mother left because she couldn’t take care of them anymore. In reality, she’d left to protect them from someone who couldn’t be trusted, even if that someone was her. His father had hidden the real truth, even after the letters started coming. Apparently it was hard to dig yourself out of a hole filled with lies. How the hell could Garrett trust his father now?
As Garrett turned the situation over and over in his mind, placing himself first in his father’s position and then his mother’s, the truth slowly dawned on him. Each party had done what the person thought was best for him and Luke. There was enough blame to go around. His mother had gotten hooked on prescription painkillers and let it get so far out of hand that it nearly ended in tragedy. His father’s head was so far up his ass that he hadn’t known she’d needed his help until it was almost too late. The bottom line was Garrett’s idyllic life had been changed the instant his mother blew out her knee.
It was not so easy to excuse his father hiding the letters from them. Even though a case could be made that he’d been trying to protect them when they were younger, as adults they’d deserved an opportunity to make up their own minds. His mother had gotten well. He believed that as surely as he believed he was lucky to be alive. The possibility of ever seeing her again was gone now, and his soul ached with the loss. Garrett would bet that his father’s secrecy was all to prevent an ex-wife, an addiction, and a payoff from ever coming to light. Of course, the senator would never admit to that, but Garrett had grown up showing only the best side to the public. He’d hated the subterfuge, but it was second nature to his father. It was no doubt why the senator had shipped him off to the army when he’d started to act out. Someday, when Garrett had his anger firmly in check, his father would answer all of his questions. For now, his lies might take more forgiveness than Garrett could muster.
What he hated more than anything was the pain Luke’s question and his father’s answer had inflicted on Aunt Peg and Rachel. He’d wanted to shake Rachel when she’d goaded his father into answering, until he’d seen the fear and anger in her eyes, and realized that the truth meant just as much to her and Aunt Peg as it did to him and Luke. Damn it! He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. He should have been there for her instead of getting pissed off like a pansy-assed kid and skipping out. Hadn’t he given her hell for doing the same thing yesterday?
The full import of what he’d done chilled his blood. He’d left Rachel’s side while Jeremy was still on the loose. Of course, she wasn’t really alone at the lodge. Jonathan was there. Luke and Jase were there. Hell, his father and his entire armed brigade might still be there, but what if no one was keeping an eye on her? What if Rachel decided she needed some time alone just as he had?
Garrett yanked his cell phone from his shirt pocket and swore at the no service text at the top of the screen. He stepped on the gas, increasing the speed of the Jeep to well over what common sense told him was appropriate for the narrow, rocky road. He didn’t care. The only thing that mattered now was getting off this mountain and making sure Rachel was all right.
Sometimes the simplest plans can be the toughest to bring to fruition. Three hours, one gorgeous sunset, several wrong turns, and a flat tire later he found his way back to the narrow, chip-sealed strip of asphalt that passed as a highway in these parts. He accelerated, reached for his phone again, and dialed Luke’s number.
“Yeah.” Luke answered almost immediately.
“Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Where the hell are you?” What Garrett assumed to be anger turned Luke’s words hard.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t have run out on you. I just . . . needed some air.” Garrett blanched at his own trivial excuse. He should have been there for his brother, too. How many peop
le had he let down today?
Luke’s sigh preceded a long silence. “It’s okay I guess. I mean . . . I get it. Are you coming back?”
“I’m on my way, about thirty minutes out. Did Dad leave?”
“He was in that chopper and out of here like a shot. No doubt he was fully aware there were a few people around here who’d like to kick his ass if given an opportunity.” A carefree laugh sounded more like the brother Garrett knew.
“Are you okay, Luke?”
Another long silence hung heavily between them before Luke cleared his throat. “Did you believe him?”
“Until Jase finds something to refute his story, I don’t think we have a choice. No one else is talking.”
“Why didn’t Aunt Peg say something before now?”
“I don’t think she knew. How or why Mom kept it from her, I don’t know, but I’d bet my life on it that Aunt Peg heard the story for the first time today, just like we did.” Garrett glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed the only car he’d seen in the past four hours closing on him fast.
Luke laughed scornfully. “Really having a great vacation, Garrett. Glad you invited me.”
Garrett smiled. Luke’s sense of humor hadn’t completely disappeared. “Is Rachel doing okay?”
“I think both her and Aunt Peg went to their rooms right after you left. They were pretty upset, and they didn’t come down for dinner. It was just me, Jase, and Jonathan with that guest, Alan Taylor, and a new guy—Hugh something or other. He’s kind of a weird duck, but friendly enough.”
Garrett checked his mirror again just as the flashing blue lights on the car behind him lit up the semidarkness. He groaned, irritation tensing his jaw. “Aw, hell. That’s just great. I picked up a cop out here in the middle of fucking nowhere. I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Watch your temper, Garrett. It’s Dad you’re mad at—not that cop. Don’t get yourself thrown in jail.” Luke ended the call before Garrett could answer.
Luke was getting too smart for his own good. Garrett chuckled as he dropped the phone back in his pocket and pulled over. “Chill, Cowboy.” The shepherd was already in combat mode, his eyes locked on the officer approaching the side of Garrett’s Jeep. He slunk into the back and lay down with a grumble.
In the side mirror, Garrett watched the officer approach with one hand on the holster at his hip and a swagger in his step. It was tempting to let Cowboy greet him first . . . maybe scare a little of that cockiness out of him, but Garrett respected the dog too much to turn his training into a game.
“Well, lookie who we have here. If it isn’t the infamous Senator Harding’s boy.”
Another groan spilled from Garrett’s throat. The short, stocky lawman from the backwater town of Grizzly Gulch—the one who’d momentarily considered picking up Cowboy because of Riley’s bogus complaint. What were the odds that Sheriff Mike Connors would be on duty tonight and patrolling this small section of highway? The Rangers had taught Garrett to question coincidence and trust his gut, and his gut was tied in a big old knot.
“Sheriff. Didn’t expect to see you out here tonight.” Garrett tamped down his anger and tried for cordial.
“Why wouldn’t I be here? I own these roads.” The sheriff flicked the edge of his badge and smirked. “If you catch my meanin’.”
Garrett sat up straighter. He knew only too well what Connors meant, and if Garrett wasn’t careful, Luke’s prophetic warning would likely come to pass. Connors was out to prove himself a big shot and what better target than the despised senator’s son?
Sheriff Connors braced his arms against the Jeep’s door and leaned until he was eye level with Garrett. “Last time I saw you, you were practically joined at the hip to that pretty little Rachel Maguire. Where is she now, Harding? Did she give you the boot, or did you just lose track of her?”
Something in Connors words and the threat in his eyes caught Garrett’s attention. The sheriff didn’t appear to have the slightest bit of respect for Rachel, and suddenly Garrett was dying to know why. He pushed Luke’s warning from his mind as the thin thread that remained of his patience snapped. He pulled the handle and slammed the door of the Jeep into the officer’s stomach. Connors sucked in air as he stumbled back, holding his midsection.
Garrett stepped from the vehicle, and Cowboy jumped out behind him. Sheriff Connors reached for his weapon.
“I wouldn’t do that, Sheriff. You’ll only have time for one shot, and there are two of us. I guarantee that whichever one of us you shoot, the other will have you by the throat before you can pull the trigger again. And, just in case you were to get lucky, don’t forget that media circus I promised you. Every once in a blue moon it does come in handy to be a senator’s son.”
Connors straightened with some difficulty, his hand still hovering near his gun. “Not even a senator’s son can assault a police officer and get away with it.”
“What? That little bump? Sorry about that. It was an accident.” Garrett smiled coldly as he stepped closer. A series of taps on his leg sent Cowboy on a diagonal path to his right. “I don’t want any trouble, but I am going to ask you—do you have a problem with Rachel?”
A sneer twisted the sheriff’s lips. “I don’t have a problem with that stone-cold bitch, Harding. She just thinks she’s a little too good for the men in these parts, that’s all. And then along comes the senator’s son . . . she couldn’t wait to fuck you.”
Garrett took a deep breath and blew it out, tempering his next words. “I see. Did Rachel tell you that? Because, if she didn’t, I’m curious to know who did. Or are you just making it up as you go?”
A scornful smile spread slowly across Connors’s face. “People talk around these parts. And we don’t take to outsiders much. In fact, I think your welcome is wearing a little thin.”
Garrett laughed derisively. “I think you’re the only one who has a problem with me—you and maybe the Metcalf boys. And it all seems to revolve around Rachel. Why is that, Sheriff? Were you maybe hoping to get something going with her? Did I show up at a bad time?”
“You can think whatever you want, Harding, but watch yourself out on these back roads.” Connors walked a wide circle around Garrett as he started for his cruiser.
“Sheriff?” Garrett waited until he stopped and turned so he could read his face. “That sounded like a threat, Connors, so let me be clear as well. Anyone who causes Rachel harm will have me to deal with. So if you know someone who might want to hurt her, you should probably tell me now.”
Connors looked away for a moment before he smirked. “Hell, I don’t know a damn thing about the woman.” He continued to his car, slid into the seat, and threw gravel as he hit the gas.
Garrett had to consciously unclench his jaw as the car disappeared around a bend in the road. For a few minutes, he’d actually suspected the sheriff was Rachel’s stalker, but the man seemed too preoccupied that the senator’s son might get something the sheriff apparently wanted. Jeremy probably wouldn’t give a damn if he was the president’s son—he’d still just be someone to remove from Rachel’s life. Garrett would still keep a close eye on Sheriff Connors. He was quickly coming around to Rachel’s way of thinking. Garrett didn’t trust the man.
He waited for Cowboy to hop back in the Jeep before sliding behind the wheel, starting the vehicle, and pulling back onto the pavement. His stomach was churning with dread, hoping Rachel was really in her room, and she hadn’t taken advantage of his absence to disappear again.
Cowboy whined beside his shoulder, and Garrett slung his arm across the dog’s back, scratching beneath his ear. “Good job, boy. Don’t worry about Rachel. She’ll wait for us before she takes off again.” Yes, damn it, he was aware he was trying to convince himself.
It was the longest twenty miles in history, but he finally pulled his Jeep in beside Sally’s Explorer and parked. The lodge was lit up festively, and people sat on the deck, quietly talking, enjoying the warm evening. Rachel wasn’t one of them.
> Luke met him halfway across the grass leading to the steps. “Sally knocked on her door a little while ago, but no one answered and it was locked.”
“Fuck!” Garrett kept walking.
“What are you going to do?” Luke fell in beside him, opposite the dog.
“Break it down.”
Aunt Peg rose from her chair and came down the steps toward him. Garrett put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry I came, Aunt Peg. This never would have happened if I’d stayed away.”
“No. Don’t ever say that. I would endure this and much more to have our family back together again. Your mother loved us. Whatever else happened, I believe that with all my heart.” She cupped his cheek in her hand.
He hugged her gently. “You are a very smart lady. If my mother was even half the woman you are, I’d have been proud to know her.” Garrett kissed her temple and stepped back. “Now, I need to apologize to Rachel, too.”
“I haven’t seen her since Douglas left. I was just about to go check on her.”
Garrett stopped her as she pulled away and started for the porch steps. “I’ll check, Aunt Peg. You wait here with Luke. Okay? I’ll let you know the minute I find her.” He bounded up the steps, not giving the woman time to mount an argument.
Striding past the other occupants of the porch, he nodded to Jonathan, noting his concerned expression. Jase looked more curious than anything, but didn’t ask probably because he was sitting with Alan Taylor and two new guests whom Garrett hadn’t met yet. He didn’t have time right now, so he kept walking right through the door, into the lobby, and up the stairs until he stood in front of Rachel’s silent room.
He knocked loudly enough to wake her if she was asleep. “Rachel? It’s me, Garrett.” His hand dropped to the doorknob and twisted. It was locked, just as Luke had said. “Please open the door, Rach. I need to see that you’re all right.”
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