And nursed her whisper horse back to health and rescued her sister from a violent situation and recovered the girls from their kidnapping father.
“No wonder I think I’m in love with him. He’s like a knight in shining armor.”
Except for the shadows in his eyes.
“HEY, EVERYONE, I brought cupcakes from Clingman’s,” Claire called as she walked in Holly’s front door after work. A slight flush of heat stained her cheeks as she remembered what Tim had done with his cupcake. “Anyone home?”
“In the bedroom.” Holly’s voice had lost the vibrancy of this morning. She had probably overdone it because she thought she was cured. Claire left the cupcakes on the coffee table and hurried down the hallway.
Holly sat in front of her laptop, staring at the screen. Her position brought back unpleasant flashes of Claire’s first weeks in Sanctuary. She shoved those memories aside; they were the past.
“You look tired,” she said, not liking the lack of color in her sister’s cheeks.
Holly looked up at her with an expression so bleak fear slammed into Claire’s gut. “What happened? Did Frank come here? Are the girls all right?”
“He took all the money.” Holly gestured at the computer. “There’s enough for one mortgage payment and maybe a trip to the grocery store and that’s it.”
Claire glanced at the screen showing the bank account balances. “But that’s not possible. Paul notified the bank that any withdrawals required both your signatures.”
“Oh, he found a young, inexperienced female teller and sweet-talked his way right past that. He convinced her it was some computer error. That’s the sort of thing he’s good at—persuading people it’s someone else’s fault.” Holly’s voice was bitter.
“She just handed over all that cash?”
“No, a bank check, and it’s already been cashed.”
“That rotten bastard!” Claire slapped her hand over her mouth. “The kids aren’t here, are they?”
Holly shook her head. “Playdate with the Dotsons. Annette told me she’d give them dinner too. Everyone’s being so nice, and then this happens.” Holly’s voice quavered. “I can’t earn enough money to keep this house. I haven’t even got a college degree.”
“Sweetie, don’t worry. They’ll find Frank and make him pay you alimony and child support and half of all the money he took. I can help you with the mortgage until then.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. I know how expensive it is to live in New York.”
At the mention of New York, the little arrow of pain jabbed Claire again. Now that she had her sister back, the thought of leaving her, especially in her current situation, was wrenching.
“I don’t think they’re going to find Frank around here. I called his boss, and he’s put in for all his accumulated vacation time, the time he wouldn’t take with me and the girls because he was too busy. His boss thought he was going away with me—to Mexico.” Holly looked away. “That’s where we went for our honeymoon.”
“Oh no, Holl!”
Her sister waved off the sympathy. “Frank loved Mexico. He used to talk a lot about how well you could live there on very little money.”
Claire sat back on her heels. That sounded exactly like Frank. He’d enjoy flashing around his American dollars someplace where everyone else was dirt poor. He could disappear there for a month or two, and when he came back, who knew how long it would take to track him down and whether he’d have any money left? Especially if he took his girlfriend with him.
In the meantime, Holly would have no income.
“If I ever see Frank again, I’ll...I’ll...” Claire couldn’t think of any punishment awful enough for her soon-to-be ex-brother-in-law.
“I’ll do the same,” Holly said with a bitter smile. “I can’t even imagine how to explain this to the girls without making their father look bad.”
Claire was more worried about how Holly was going to hold onto her house. As she cast around for options, the Castillo painting flashed into her mind. If she sold it, she could pay off Holly’s entire mortgage and have plenty of money left over for her sister to live on until she found a job.
“You have a funny look on your face. What are you thinking about?” Holly asked.
“I was just...um...wondering what you could tell the girls about Frank.” Claire needed more time to consider the possibility of parting with her treasured painting.
“I’m not going to say anything until I have a plan. The first thing I have to do is look for a job.”
“I’m going to call Paul and ask him if there’s any way to stop Frank from leaving the country with your money.” She knew it was unlikely, but she couldn’t let the bastard just waltz away unchallenged. “I guess the good news is that he won’t show up here anymore.”
“You know something, that is good news.” Holly’s woebegone face brightened. “I don’t have to wonder if the car door slamming late at night is him coming home drunk and angry or just a neighbor on the late shift. That’s really good news.”
Claire winced at the thought of what Holly had gone through, but she summoned up a smile. “It’s the silver lining. There had to be one.”
Claire stood in the windowless quiet of the secure room at the gallery, her arms wrapped around her waist, as she gazed at Julia Castillo’s beautiful creation. She felt as though she could hear the swish of the horses’ tails, feel the late-afternoon sunlight warming her skin, and smell the scent of trampled grass.
She had spent the night with Holly, telling Tim her sister was feeling fragile. She knew she couldn’t spend time with him and not tell him about the latest catastrophe. She wasn’t ready to do that until she worked out what she intended to do, since he might be directly involved.
She picked out her favorite parts of the painting—the position of one horse’s ears, the cocked hoof of another, the play of light on the chestnut’s flank, the dappled light under the trees. She walked forward to savor the brushwork that created the grass in the foreground and the distant mountains. She even used her fingertip to trace the bold swirls of Julia Castillo’s signature.
Then she stepped back and let her hands fall to her sides.
As miraculous as the picture was, it was only paint on canvas. Holly, Brianna, and Kayleigh were living, breathing human beings whom she loved, and whose lives were being destroyed through no fault of their own. The thought of selling the Castillo to help them evoked no regrets, only a bone-deep satisfaction. It was as though she’d fought so hard to keep this one painting because somehow she knew it would be needed.
She flicked off the lights and locked the door behind her. As she walked back to the main showroom, she realized that making the decision to sell was the least difficult part of the situation. She had a lot of tricky negotiations ahead of her. It wouldn’t be easy to convince Holly to take the money. And what should she do about Tim’s offer to buy the painting? He had been serious, but she needed to get top dollar for the Castillo so she could secure Holly’s future.
“It’s good to already have a prospective buyer,” she reminded herself. “I just wish I wasn’t sleeping with him.”
Tim slammed the door of his pickup truck and strode toward the door of the Gallery at Sanctuary. When he had called Claire to invite her to lunch, he could tell she was dodging him, which made him both worried and angry. He had fifteen minutes between the end of his morning office hours and his first farm appointment to find out what the hell was going on.
He was worried because he knew he hadn’t responded to her comment about staying in Sanctuary the way he should have, and she’d probably been hurt. He’d panicked, not because he didn’t want her to stay. God knows, he did. He just didn’t want her to stay without knowing the whole truth.
For Claire, he was pushing himself, forcing himself to do things like say Anais’s name out loud to her. He was battling to let go of his past, but for now, he couldn’t offer her any assurances.
He ignored the fact that she
hadn’t asked for any.
As he reached for the handle, he glanced through the plate glass to see Paul Taggart standing too close to Claire. His mood grew darker, and he nearly growled. His self-restraint only went so far. He might not be able to claim Claire for himself yet, but he was damned if he would let anyone else do it. Yanking the door open, he stomped into the big well-lit space.
Claire turned, her long hair sliding over the shoulders of her pale-pink blouse, and he was struck nearly speechless by the urge to pull her into his arms and taste her mouth.
“Tim! I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He watched a flush of color warm her cheeks. Was she flustered because of his unexpected arrival, or did she feel the same physical awareness he did?
“I was passing through on my way to do farm rounds, and I thought I’d drop in. Good to see you, Paul.” He nodded to the other man, then bent his head to kiss Claire on the lips, a gesture of possession that sent a zing of heat straight to his cock. “You look beautiful.”
Her blush went neon as she threw a quick sideways glance at him. “Th...thank you. Paul and I were just discussing the next step in Holly’s divorce.”
“It’s an ugly business,” Paul said smoothly, but Tim could see the tense set of his shoulders. Taggart didn’t like seeing his old friend touched by another man. Tim couldn’t blame him, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a surge of satisfaction.
“So you think trying to track Frank down is a waste of our resources?” she asked Paul.
“If his plan was to leave the country, he’s already gone,” Paul said. “The best thing to do is have the police keep an eye out locally, in case Holly’s wrong.”
She sighed. “I guess so, but it’s frustrating not to be able to do something to him.”
“I take it Frank’s skipped town?” Tim asked, relief flooding him. This was why she had bailed on him last night.
“Yes, with—” Paul began.
“Without telling Holly where he’s going,” Claire interrupted.
She was still hiding something. The question was why? She had shared all the details of Holly’s disintegrating marriage with him after their first confrontation with Frank. His anger dissipated as his concern grew.
“Not with the children?” he asked.
“No, thank God!” Claire said. “But we need the creep’s participation to move legal matters along. Otherwise, this is going to drag on forever.”
“Which is probably part of his intention,” Paul said. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work. Nice seeing you, Dr. Tim. I’ll talk to you later, Claire.” With a gleam in his eye, he snaked one arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. He looked straight at Tim as he planted a chaste kiss on her cheek and released her.
She stepped away from him immediately. “Thanks for your help, Paul.”
“Don’t mention it,” Taggart said as he headed out the door.
As soon as the door swung shut behind the other man, Claire put her hands on her hips. “What was with the PDA? You’ve never kissed me at my office before.”
“Don’t you remember my list? Find more places to kiss Claire? Besides, you’re a fine one to talk about displays of affection at the office after what we did in mine.”
“You’ve got me there.” She came up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned against him, her cheek pressed to his chest. “Gosh, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry about last night. I wanted to spend it with you.”
He liked the sincerity in her voice, and he liked the soft, yielding feel of her in his arms even more. It proved she wasn’t upset about yesterday, and it sent even more heat through his body. He tightened his hold and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Tell me why you couldn’t.”
She stirred against him. “Holly needed me.”
“You said she felt much better after standing up to Frank.”
He felt her rib cage expand and contract on a deep sigh. “She had another setback when Frank left town.”
“Is that all?”
She pushed away from him, and he let her go. She took two steps backward and looked at him with a humorous twist in her lips. “Sometimes your persistence is really inconvenient.”
“It gets results.”
He saw her square her shoulders and take in another deep breath. This time she was going to tell him the truth. “Frank cleaned out all of their money. Holly thinks he’s gone to Mexico with it, which means she’ll never get it back.”
“Wasn’t the bank required to get two signatures on any withdrawals?”
“Yeah. Frank convinced the teller it was a computer problem.” Her eyes flashed. “You know, the system doesn’t do much to protect women and children in a situation like this. Holly never finished college and never worked because Frank wanted her to stay home after they were married. Now that he doesn’t want to be married anymore, she’s got two kids and no way to support them.”
He wanted to pull her close again so he could feel all that fire and passion pulsing in his arms.
“Anyway, I refuse to let Frank ruin his family’s lives.” She looked away, then brought her gaze back to him. “I’m going to sell the Castillo, and I want to give you the first chance to buy it.”
Tim looked stunned, and she realized she’d been too abrupt. “Don’t feel you have to. It’s just that I know you really want it, and I thought you should have the right of first refusal. There’s no pressure, though, and you’re under no obligation to take it.”
“Shhh,” he said, touching her lips with his callused fingertip. “I’m not feeling pressured. I know you could find another buyer for the Castillo in no time flat. I’m honored you would offer it to me first.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “But I know how much the painting means to you. There must be another way to get the money. In fact, I’ll loan it to Holly.”
“I knew you’d say something like that.” That’s why she had let herself just lean against him for a few wonderful moments, to absorb his strength and kindness before she had to hold him at arm’s length. “But, as much as we both appreciate it, neither Holly nor I could accept your generosity.”
“We’ll work something out with the bank.”
She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not necessary. I don’t need the Castillo anymore. After my divorce, it symbolized the one time I stood up to Milo and won. Now I’ve rebuilt my confidence, and he no longer has any power over me.”
A flash of insight exploded in her mind. “In fact, I feel as though selling it is my final step in the process.”
“Then I’m a buyer. Name your price.”
This was the awkward part. Claire had spent most of the day trying to come up with a price that was fair to Holly and to Tim. She’d even called Henry back and gotten his thoughts on the Castillo’s value. Her future boss pointed out that she would get a lot more money for it if she sold it to one of his obscenely rich clients or went to auction with it. However, Claire wanted Tim to have it, if it was within his means.
Not that she had any idea what he could afford. He had mentioned owning a couple of pretty pricey artists, but the Castillo was not a small sketch or a study for a larger painting. It was one of the best examples of the artist’s existing work.
So she had come up with a number that was slightly below a conservative market value, but which would cover Holly’s mortgage and provide her sister with living expenses for at least six months. She named it.
Anger flared in his eyes, but he just shook his head. “I don’t pretend to keep up with the art market, but even I know it’s worth more than that. I give you credit for good intentions, but don’t patronize me.”
Damn! She should have known he was too smart for that. “I wasn’t trying to patronize you.” She put her hand on his forearms where he’d crossed them and gave him a penitent smile. “I want the painting to go to a good home, and I figure I can negotiate visitation rights.”
“If visitation rights come wit
h it, I’ll hang it over my bed.”
She felt her smile stretch into a grin of pure relief. “Works for me, especially since I’ll still be able to sell you something else for the wall over your sofa.”
“I’m pretty sure you could sell me the Brooklyn Bridge.” He uncrossed his arms. “How soon do you need the money for the Castillo?”
It took her a moment to realize Tim was not going to argue any further about the painting’s price. She was surprised and pleased. “It’s not a rush. Frank was kind enough to leave one mortgage payment’s worth of cash in the account.”
“I’ll wire it into whatever account you choose. Just e-mail me the information.” He glanced at his heavy steel wristwatch. “I’m late for the Wallaces’ ram.”
She blew him a kiss because touching him would just frustrate her. He pretended to catch it before starting toward the door. His steps slowed, and he turned around. “I wish”—he took a deep breath—“I wish you didn’t have to sell the painting.”
“I don’t mind. It feels good.”
Tim sat in the pickup truck, gripping the steering wheel. Even though he was running late, he couldn’t start the engine just yet. He was in the grip of a longing so powerful it nearly swamped him.
Claire had meant it when she said she didn’t need the painting anymore. She had let go of all the pain her ex-husband had caused her. Her voice rang with the strength and hope of looking forward instead of back.
When he had turned around, he had been about to express his wish that he could do the same. But he couldn’t voice that craving. When he opened his mouth, confusion swamped him.
Anais wanted the world to remember her; that’s why she had chosen her path. Would it be a betrayal of her memory to put the loss behind him?
His knuckles went white as his hold on the steering wheel tightened.
He loved Claire, but his guilt kept wrenching him away from her. He could wrestle with it, shove it into the darkest corner of his mind, but it still hulked there. He was terrified it would ooze out and taint whatever they built together.
Take Me Home Page 23