Heart of Gold

by J. R. Ward

  Nick was stunned by the story. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” She shook her head vehemently. “You don’t get to be sorry. I’m not going to make it so easy for you. You don’t get to apologize. You don’t get to explain. I didn’t give the man who put my mother in the ground a chance to and I don’t feel inclined to grant you special privileges. Anymore.”

  “Carter, you’ve got to let me talk.” His voice was urgent as he prayed she’d find faith in the better side of him. “I never meant to hurt you—”

  “Yeah,” she shot back harshly, “I believe that. You’ve always been too distracted taking care of yourself.”

  “Can’t you let me get one word in here?”

  “I have to go back to work.” She picked up a clipboard from the table and held it against her chest. “You know, you and my father are a lot alike and I’ll bet you’ve done some terrific deals together. Screwing people comes naturally to you both.”

  Nick swore in frustration and was about to launch another protest when he froze. Her eyes were looking straight through him, not even registering his presence. That, more than anything else, scared him most.

  Carter squared her shoulders. “I’m going to finish the dig. Not because I have something to prove to you but because I have something to prove to myself. I’ve been doing pretty well living alone. I like my life. And I’m not going to lose any part of it just because you turned out to be exactly who I thought you were.”

  “I’m not like your father.”

  “Then maybe you need to get to know yourself a little better. You’ve lived up to your reputation admirably, and have made me remember why it’s important not to trust people. I’d forgotten, you see.”

  “I’m going to tell your father to go.”

  “Don’t bother. I won’t be coming down off the mountain again until we’re through.”

  Without a backward glance, Carter walked away, leaving him standing next to the cold fire pit.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, he thought. The end wasn’t supposed to come this soon. Or even at all.

  He stood next to the cluster of gray embers for a long time, looking around the campsite. He noticed odd things, like how the ketchup bottle on the mess table was half empty and that there was a pair of sunglasses dangling from the clothesline.

  When he couldn’t stand it any longer, when his regrets and recriminations threatened to overcome him, he went back down to the mansion. He thought about getting in his car and driving somewhere. Anywhere.

  But as soon as he walked in his front door, he heard Packert’s voice calling out for him.

  Smelling blood, Nick went out onto the porch.

  “So it’s the master of the house,” Packert said, holding a short cigar in his right hand. “You ready to behave civil-like now?”

  Nick smiled with vengeance as he embraced the cold emotion. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so worried about manners.”

  “My mother raised me right.”

  “Perhaps, but you’ve got other things to agonize over,” Nick drawled. “Trust me.”

  As Packert squinted up at him, Nick sought out Carter’s father. He was sitting in a wicker chair, dressed coolly in a white linen suit. He was a very elegant, powerful man, who seemed to have aged twenty years in the last two hours.

  Packert puffed on the nub of his cigar and offered Nick a conciliatory grin. “Say, why don’t you take a load off? You look worn-out, old man, and we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  “Worn-out?” Nick leaned against a column. “That’s funny. I’m feeling rather aggressive.”

  Nick shot a dark glance across the porch and the man’s overconfident smile faltered a bit.

  “Well, I think that’s just fine. I like a strong opponent.” A cloud of smoke was pushed out of Packert’s lips. Behind it, the man’s eyes grew sharp. “So, boys, what do you say you all fess up to what you’re doing?”

  Nick’s voice was bored as he answered. “CommTrans is in trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Packert laughed. “We’ve had a couple of challenges over the last year but the company’s doing just fine. No thanks to that dog of a manufacturing division you off-loaded on us.”

  “I don’t think you want to bring that up, do you?”

  Packert’s eyes darted away to the end of the cigar.

  Nick continued, his words clipped and clear. “Your company’s overvalued, undercapitalized, and debt-heavy. You’re sinking fast.”

  “I don’t recall opening myself up for insults.”

  “Those are facts, Mr. Packert, not insults.”

  “So what are you gonna do? Buy up my company and kick me out?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Packert was taken aback. “You’re serious.”

  “I am,” Nick said darkly. “I don’t take my reputation lightly. You dragged my name through the mud because you failed to manage your own organization. I can’t let that go, can I?”

  “Now, hold up there. I did no such thing.”

  “Then you must have interpreted those front-page articles in the Wall Street Journal differently than everyone else did. You remember, the ones where you accused me of fraud? I have copies of them, if you need a refresher. And there’s the investigative demand the attorney general of the State of New York served on me. You’ve heard about that, too, haven’t you?”

  Packert began to look truly panicked.

  “So how about dinner?” Nick said. “I think we’re having fresh meat.”

  After a tense silence, the other men followed him to the dining room where three places had been set at the end of the long, elaborately dressed table. It was an awful meal even though Gertie’s food was perfectly cooked. Packert was subdued and neither Nick nor Wessex was in the mood for conversation.

  After the Texan had grabbed a bottle of bourbon and gone upstairs to bed, Wessex followed Nick into the study.

  As soon as the door was closed, the man asked, “What did she say?”

  Nick sat down at his desk. “She doesn’t want to see you. Or me, for that matter.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “No.” He glanced up at Wessex, recalling what his daughter had said about him.

  “You’re looking at me strangely,” Wessex murmured. “She told you everything, didn’t she?”

  “It’s none of my business.” And Nick wished he’d figured that out much sooner.

  “Things didn’t happen as she thinks they did. That’s what I’ve wanted to tell her.” Wessex stared into space, as if he were reliving the past. But then his eyes shifted over and met Nick’s. “You’re in love with my daughter, aren’t you?”

  Nick’s eyebrows rose but he didn’t hesitate in his answer. “I am.”

  At that moment, the door was flung open with such force, it ricocheted off the bookshelves with a crack.

  “What the hell did you do to Carter?” Cort demanded.

  15

  NICK TURNED to Wessex and said grimly, “Allow me to introduce my—”

  “I don’t want to meet another one of your stuffed shirts,” Cort spat. He was practically vibrating with anger.

  Nick frowned. “You want to try that again?”

  Cort shot the other man a cutting glance. “Do you mind beating it? No offense, but can’t you go shuffle papers somewhere else?”

  Wessex’s eyebrows launched upward but he replied in an even tone. “If you’re going to talk about my daughter, then no, I don’t want to go ‘shuffle papers somewhere else.’”

  Cort’s eyes widened.

  “This is Carter’s father,” Nick said tightly. “Now, how about an apology?”

  “Er—sorry.” Seeming confused, Cort rubbed the top of his head, making his hair climb to new heights. “But what are you doing here?”

  “Are you always this blunt?” There was an indulgent cast to Wessex’s face, one that surprised Nick.

  “When someone’s been trampled by my uncle I get kind of mad. Since he do
es that a lot, I guess you could say it’s an always kinda thing.” Cort turned to Nick. “So what did you do to her?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  The kid linked his wiry arms over his chest. “You mean you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That’s right.”

  Nick could feel his temper rise. He was upset as hell at what had happened with Carter. The last thing he needed was another fight with his nephew.

  Cort huffed. “Just because you don’t want to admit to yourself or anybody else that you’re a heartless—”

  “Enough!” Nick slammed his hands down on his desk and shot to his feet. “Do not push me on this one!”

  Cort stepped back, dazed by the reaction.

  Nick took a deep breath and sat down, regretting his explosion and feeling ragged.

  “I didn’t know you cared so much…about her,” Cort mumbled while looking at him with wide, cautious eyes.

  Nick pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I do.”

  Cort’s head tilted to the side and the kid looked at him closely.

  In the silence that followed, Wessex got up and poured himself a brandy from the bar.

  “She has a lot of people who care about her,” the man said as he sat back down and swirled the glass in his palm.

  Cort glanced over at him. “You look like her—you know that?”

  “I know.”

  “She’s really upset.” The kid looked back and forth between the two older men, who were quiet. He finally settled on Wessex. “Hey, you’re her father. You should go talk to her. That’s what my dad would’ve done if I were upset. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare, he was always there. It made me feel better.”

  Cort started shifting his weight back and forth, as if he expected Carter’s father to leap out of the chair and leave the house.

  “So you should go to her,” he prompted.

  “You’re right,” Wessex allowed. The hopeless desolation about him was at odds with his sophisticated dress and polished voice.

  “So why aren’t you going?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “But it’s just a short walk up the mountain.”

  Wessex, still staring into his glass, did not reply.

  Cort shrugged awkwardly. “Well, do what you want. But I’d go up there if I were you. Who doesn’t want their father when they’re feeling bad?”

  Nick watched as the man stiffened.

  “So…ummm…good night, Uncle Nick.”

  “Good night,” Nick returned softly.

  Cort left the room, closing the door quietly.

  “God, I wish I had done so much differently,” Wessex said. “And if only I could walk up that mountain and sit her down, talk to her, and have her listen.”

  Nick leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head and thinking that he and Wessex were in the same boat.

  “Maybe you should try,” he suggested. “You never know. Time changes things.”

  “Did you see the expression on her face? I don’t think time has worked in my favor.” The man swallowed the last of his drink and got to his feet. “Good night, Farrell.”

  Nick nodded.

  Left alone, he stared into space. An hour later, he got up from his desk and headed upstairs himself. He went to his suite of rooms, took a shower, and got into bed with no illusions that sleep was going to come easy.

  Lying flat on his back, with his eyes clamped shut and his body rigid under the sheets, he waited for hours to lose consciousness. When sleep did come, it teemed with nightmares in which Carter was in danger and he could not save her.

  The next morning, Carter watched the sun rise over the mountains from her favorite boulder overlooking the lake. She stayed there, witnessing the day come alive, with little enthusiasm. She was waiting until she could handle facing Buddy and Ellie but, as the sun got higher and she didn’t feel any better, she gave up.

  It was going to take a hell of a lot longer than a matter of hours to feel like herself again.

  As she approached camp, she saw Buddy lighting the fire. Unable to bear his mute concern, she told him to meet her at the site.

  Inside the circle of stones, she went over to the newest skeletal discovery and pulled back the tarp. With it they’d found Revolutionary-period military buttons and the bayonet of a Brown Bess, all of which marked the man as a Brit. This meant, with three-quarters of the site excavated, three other people from the party were still missing. Winship, one other patriot, and the Indian. Her gaze skipped across the undisturbed ground, all that was standing between her and freedom.

  How long would it take to finish? she wondered listlessly.

  Getting down on her knees, she reexamined the remains. The skeleton was almost completely revealed, and she went to work on the man’s feet.

  Despite the bucolic sounds of birds and the scent of pine in the air, she was anything but at peace. In the morning light, she found it next to impossible not to think about Nick and her father. Even though she’d spent all night dwelling on their betrayals, there seemed to be no end to her mind’s desire to rehash what had happened.

  When Buddy appeared with some coffee, she took a mug from him with an attempt at a smile.

  “You don’t need to pretend around me,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “No, but right now I feel like I need to pretend around myself.”

  By the time Ellie showed up, the skeleton was completely exposed and Buddy was taking pictures.

  “Do you think we’ll find the others?” the girl asked, dancing around the pit. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail and it bounced up and down with her.

  Watching the girl’s enthusiasm, Carter was overwhelmed with sadness. She was years and miles away from that kind of carefree happiness, feeling old and beaten down in comparison.

  “We’ll have to wait and see. First, we’ve got to get this skeleton out of the ground.” She looked around for one of the larger containers. “Hey, does anyone need anything from the site? I’m going back to get a storage bin.”

  “More coffee,” Buddy answered from behind the camera.

  Carter picked up the thermos and walked into the trees.

  Nick was pulled out of a restless sleep by someone banging on his bedroom door.

  “Go away,” he called out.

  The knocking didn’t stop.

  “What the hell is the problem?” He shot out of bed, grabbing a sheet and pulling it around his waist. When he wrenched the door open, Wessex jumped back.

  “Sorry to wake you.”

  The man looked as if he hadn’t slept well either.

  “S’all right.” Nick rubbed a hand over his eyes. His voice was a hoarse growl. “What time is it?”

  “Before eight. What size shoe do you wear?”

  “Eleven.” Nick answered on instinct before wondering why the guy cared. “What’s up?”

  “I need a pair of hiking boots.”

  Nick came fully awake.

  “I spent most of last night thinking about her,” Wessex explained. “I have to try or I will never forgive myself. To be this close and not reach out…”

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Nick said quickly. He shut the door, dropped the sheet, and began pulling on clothes.

  When he got downstairs, Wessex was pacing back and forth in front of the refrigerator. Now that he was more awake, Nick noticed that the man had on another elegant linen suit. The fact that he wasn’t wearing a tie seemed like Wessex’s only concession to leisure.

  “I keep the hiking gear in the mudroom,” Nick told him. “You want to borrow some clothes?”

  Wessex seemed surprised and looked down at what he was wearing. “This is comfortable enough.”

  “When was the last time you went up a mountain?”

  “Summer camp, perhaps. But I’ll be fine.”

  Nick kept his doubts to himself and led the way to a room off the kitchen where the sports equipment and
foul-weather gear were kept. He handed over a pair of hiking boots that Wessex put on.

  “So how do I get up there?”

  “Come on. I’ll show you the way to the trail.” When they were outside, Nick pointed at the forest’s edge. “You go through that break in the woods—”

  “What break?” Wessex squinted.

  “Here, I’ll take you over.” Hell, Nick was prepared to drag Wessex up the mountain if he had to. He was hoping for the best. If her father could somehow get up there and talk to Carter, if somehow a miracle happened…

  “I say, Farrell, are you sure there’s a trail in these woods?”

  If somehow the man didn’t get lost and end up in Canada.

  “Why don’t I walk you up part of the way?”

  “That would be most appreciated.”

  The two men entered the forest and were silent for a while. Then Wessex spoke up.

  “When Carter was young,” he said, as if talking to himself, “I was gone a lot. Actually, that was true when she was grown, too, but I regret more my absences when she was little. Anyway, in those early days, she would wait for me to come home well into the night. No matter how late I was due to arrive.”

  The trail began to incline and Wessex started to breathe heavily. Nick slowed the pace, concentrating on the man’s words.

  “The house she grew up in, the one I still live in now, has a tremendous front hall with a grand staircase. It’s cavernous, really, and must have been quite spooky for a small child in the dark. Inevitably, though, I would come through the door and there, curled on her side in her pj’s, would be Carter asleep on the stairs. It couldn’t have been comfortable.”

  Wessex cleared his throat between pulling in lungfuls of air. “She was…so tiny in that space, so very small.”

  Nick paused so Wessex could catch his breath. As they stood in a cool draught of air that was funneling down the mountain, the man took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

  “I would open the iron-latticed door and, even though it never made a sound, she would come awake instantly. I don’t know how she knew it was me. She just did. She would leap up and run into my arms, throwing herself at me. There was…such love in her eyes. In all my life, no one has ever shown me that kind of love.”