She looked at the book in her lap. She always had one with her, but for one of the few times in her life she hadn’t been able to read. She wished the rumblings of apprehension would fade. If the visit worked out, then fine. If it didn’t, well, then she hadn’t lost anything. Except the peace she’d worked so hard for, except for the crumbling of the barricades she’d wrapped around herself.
She kept telling herself she had an ally in Alex, but she wasn’t even sure about that. She couldn’t escape the feeling that he had withheld important pieces of the puzzle. The question was why.
Nonsense. She was just creating problems in her mind. She would enjoy this adventure, the chance to see a part of the country she’d always longed to visit. Perhaps she would even ride again. Her heart pounded faster at the idea. Life was stirring back in her body, in her heart.
And she wanted to learn more about Harding Clements. She wanted to know if her father had indeed hid his past, and why. She wanted to know what had caused the sadness in his eyes, the detachment in his heart.
The pilot came on the intercom and announced their approach into Phoenix. She looked at her watch. About three or four hours until she reached Sedona. Perhaps then she would learn answers to some of those questions.
Ross felt his gut turn somersaults. Everything he had worked so goddamn hard for was at risk. But he tried to submerge those feelings now. Horses sensed turmoil, uncertainty. Particularly skittish youngsters like this one.
He snapped the rope in his hands. Keep the colt going. Keep him at an easy trot around the ring. By the end of the day, if he had no interruptions, the colt would be broken to saddle. Then the tedious work began. But it was work he loved.
How much longer would he have it?
The youngster had slowed. Ross moved, snaking out the rope, pushing the colt to speed his pace.
Keep your attention on the animal, dammit. His mind kept wandering, though, to the command performance he had to attend tonight. He’d tried to squirm out, but Sarah had made it quite clear he was expected to attend.
He hated the biannual reunions. He’d always felt like an outsider, an interloper, a fraud. For various reasons, mostly Sarah, he had stayed at the Sunset long past the time he’d known it wise to go. Now he had his entire life invested in it. He’d almost come to think of it as home. The only real home he’d ever had. And yet he’d also realized he never really belonged here.
That knowledge had been a burr under his skin. God only knew he’d fought establishing an attachment to this land. To Sarah. He’d always believed it would be jerked away, just as so many other things had been. But now the Sunset was in his blood, the land his very soul, the horses his future. And the whole damn thing was about to be pulled out from under him.
And by an outsider just like him. Yet that outsider had the blood he could not claim.
The colt was quickly tiring. A few more rounds and he would halter the youngster, then allow him to grow used to the saddle. No violent confrontations between man and beast, merely a subtle building of trust between them, of understanding as to which was dominant.
Ross loved these sessions in the round pen. He enjoyed it far more than the spring and fall roundups of the cattle, and certainly more than the paperwork, especially that involved in leasing so much government land for grazing. Cattle, particularly in this country, were becoming a losing proposition. The value of a good cutting horse, though, was spiraling upward for reasons best not dwelt upon. What little profit the ranch produced now came from the horses. He wanted to enlarge the program, but he couldn’t as long as the fate of the ranch hung on such slender threads.
Its immediate sale would bring millions to the Clementses, not just a promise of later profits.
But how could anyone even consider selling a legend?
He looked up at the red mountains in the distance. God, he loved them. He loved their secrets. The thought of turning this land into small lots made him physically ill.
The colt snorted, aware again of his lack of attention. Ross spoke softly, calming him, then approached with confidence, always keeping to the side or front. He slipped the lariat around the animal’s head, waited as the youngster tested it, then stood quietly. “Good boy,” he soothed.
The animal tossed his head but stood quietly as Ross placed a saddle pad on the horse’s back. The horse bucked slightly at the unfamiliar object, then stilled again. After several more rounds, Ross saddled him and started him around the ring again, allowing him to become accustomed to carrying the weight.
He forced all his concentration on the animal, a buckskin with all the breeding, instincts, and natural moves of a champion cutting horse. Several such animals, and he could name his own prices for Sunset horses.
After several hours, the horse was accustomed to the rope, and the saddle. The moment of truth was here. He slowly lifted himself into the saddle. The horse danced nervously for a moment, then quieted, and Ross felt the supreme satisfaction of accomplishment. With a touch of Ross’s heels, the horse circled the ring.
Ross tried to concentrate, but his mind kept returning to thoughts of the god-awful party tonight.
He heard Timber bark behind him. Even the dog was reminding him he was running late. The animal was uncanny. “Be patient, Timber,” he said, and the dog lay down, putting his head between his front paws. Timber always knew what he was thinking. He might have looked like a hound from hell, but the part-wolf, part-dog mixture was the smartest animal he’d ever trained.
Timber didn’t care if his master was charming.
But Sarah sure as hell did. She’d pleaded with him to be charming.
He grimaced at the thought. Hell, he didn’t know a damn thing about being charming. He didn’t care to know.
He would leave that up to Alex.
The ride up to Sedona was fascinating. Spectacular. If only all the ifs didn’t eat at her. If only her stomach hadn’t turned into a South American forest full of butterflies. She drank in the vistas, the saguaro and other varieties of cactus. It was a world apart from the lush forests she knew. An alien world but beautiful in its own stark way.
She sped by places called Deadman’s Creek and Sunset Point and Black Canyon, longing to stop and explore the small winding roads that led to those intriguing-sounding locations. But she was committed to a party tonight, a welcoming get-together.
An inspection, she feared. An inspection she was sure to fail. She was only too aware of her limited wardrobe. She’d bought several silk blouses and one elegant pantsuit for the trip. She’d added a skirt and several pairs of slacks from her own wardrobe. Inadequate, she thought, for one of the premier ranching families in Arizona, but she wasn’t willing to pretend she was something she was not. Nor spend a fortune doing it.
She didn’t have an awe of politicians or of wealth, having seen too much of both on the horse farms. She was, instead, wary of anyone with inherited wealth. She had believed herself in love with one young scion of a wealthy family, and he’d turned out to be both vicious and duplicitous. Since then, she’d been reluctant to trust many people. But she wanted to trust Alex Kelley. She really wanted it.
As her car climbed higher into the Colorado rim, she became enraptured by the strangely beautiful land. Was this her heritage? Was this land in her blood? Was that why she felt such a rising excitement? Yet, she had not agreed to a DNA test. It represented a commitment to her. She wasn’t ready to make that commitment. She wasn’t ready to believe that fairy tales really did come true. Neither could she quite concede that her father had lied to her all these years.
Maybe she wouldn’t want to be related to this family.
She wished, more than anything, that her emotions didn’t run amok, that she could be practical and measured and objective, as she’d tried so hard to be about her life. She’d sworn never to be ruled again by impulses, to allow them to overcome her good sense.
But now she was a squirming mess of conflicting cautions, hopes, and dreams, and nothing she did seem
ed to tamp them down.
A family. A huge family. And horses.
Could she bear being around horses again? Live ones. She’d been collecting china ones for years, her safe substitute for live ones. She had given up what she once loved best after the nightmare of her father’s death. Given up? No, she’d run from everything that reminded her of that night.
She knew now she hadn’t entirely succeeded. Her carousel horses were her substitute, steeds to take her off on adventures and away from her father’s too-often drunken spells and later from memories.
Could she dare dream once more?
Alex lounged in the foyer of the Quest, waiting for Jessica to check in.
He debated how much warning to give her. He had learned far more about her than she’d ever guessed. Some he’d shared with the family, some he had not.
He had admitted to some investigation, but not to the extent of it. In fact, Sarah knew more than the others, and that was not all. It had been Sarah’s money that financed the search, and he’d felt honor-bound to give all that information to her, but then he’d had reason to personally extend the investigation, and those findings belonged to him and only him. He too had a lot at stake in the upcoming family battle. He’d wanted to know everything there was to know about Jessica Clayton.
After learning what he had, he’d expected her caution. He’d made a few assessments from his conversations with her but unlike most women, she was accomplished at masking her feelings.
He knew that there was a bottle of champagne in her room, ordered by Congressman Marc Clements; a basket of fruit from Sarah; and God only knew what else from other members of the family. Even without the DNA results, they were all trying to position themselves. If they weren’t careful, they would send Jessica Clayton running back to Atlanta. He didn’t think she suffered fools lightly.
He wished for a cigar at times like this. He’d stopped smoking years ago, but the longing remained with him. Especially at stressful times.
He looked at his watch. She should have arrived in Phoenix four hours earlier. Depending on how she drove, she should be here shortly. Or had she changed her mind about coming?
Not for the first time, he wondered why he stayed with the family. Its various members and their enterprises constituted more than fifty percent of his law firm’s time, as they had his father’s practice but he knew he could do far better financially in Phoenix. Still, he stayed. He’d inherited the practice when his father died, and Alex, like his father, had become an extended member of the family. He was like Ross in that aspect. Almost a Clements, but not quite.
The work had been varied and challenging these past twelve years. He’d interpreted the provisions of a very complicated will, seen to the government lease contracts, and negotiated land sales for the Quest. He’d also bailed Cullen’s twins out of jail, kept secrets no outsider should know, and tried to keep peace among the family members.
Now he would have to take sides, and he hadn’t decided yet which side he would choose. He liked Sarah enormously, but she lived in the past. His firm stood to make a fortune if the ranch was sold, and he was never adverse to money.
Marc wanted the sale. With adequate financing, he was a shoo-in to be elected senator—and then who knew how far he would go? He had hopes, Alex knew, of running for president. Marc’s friends would travel a long way with him, too.
Every pot was ready to boil. He just didn’t know which would boil over first.
For the moment, Alex was keeping his options open.
He looked at his watch again. Should he keep waiting? Would she even want him to be here? But he was the one who had lured her here, and he felt a certain responsibility. He wondered whether he should even have reported the search firm’s finding. Whatever else she’d had, Jessica Clayton had undergone more than her share of betrayal and pain.
The entrance door opened and the object of his thoughts entered.
She looked startled as he stood. “Are you the innkeeper, too?” she asked.
“Just the welcoming committee,” he said, holding out his hand and taking hers. He looked over at the desk and the well-groomed young man behind it. “You don’t have to check in. I have your key.”
She nodded, her gaze steady but wary. She wore a pair of jeans that fit, but not too tightly, and a green knit shirt that brought out a compelling green in her changeable eyes. Nothing pretentious. Just comfortable, and he was reminded how much he’d liked her. He liked her challenging manner, her forthrightness, and her intelligence. He should tell her to turn around and leave.
Instead, he gave her his most charming smile. “I thought you might like to see a friendly face. I’ll show you your room, then you can get a couple of hours of rest before the party tonight.”
He saw doubt flicker in her eyes and reminded himself again to be careful. She had reason not to trust easily.
She finally smiled. But he saw the uncertainty behind it. “No signature? No credit card?”
“Everything is already done,” he said. “The family asked you here, and the family owns this place.”
She looked around the luxurious but informal lobby. A huge fireplace took up one wall. Comfortable little groups of chairs and loveseats were clustered throughout the room, interspersed by giant ferns. A glass cage filled with live colorful birds ran along one side of the room. The smell of leather and newly cut flowers permeated the air.
“Wine and cheese are served in the afternoon,” Alex explained. “And the restaurant is very good.”
“It’s lovely,” she said.
“It’s Cullen’s pride and joy. I’ll drive you around to your room, then pick you up at six-thirty for the party tonight.”
He knew from the instant question in her eyes that he’d assumed too much. Her back stiffened.
“You will never find the ranch yourself,” he added, trying to smooth his blunder. “Even longtime residents can’t find it. There are no directional signs and you have to wind around up into the hills.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Sarah says it keeps the salesmen away. Personally, I think Ross dismantled all the signs, hoping no one would find it.”
She remembered the name. The cousin who ran the ranch. Alex, though, had said less about him than the others. “Tell me about him.”
“Ross?” He shrugged. “He’s a loner. He may not even be at the party tonight unless Sarah somehow talks him into it. He considers social events the next thing to hell. He might even consider them worse than hell. Just don’t let him intimidate you.”
“Intimidate moi?” she replied teasingly, a certain bravado masking the apprehension she felt growing with every new description of this family that apparently wanted to claim her as their own. “Not even an attorney could do that.”
“I noticed,” he answered wryly, then steered her toward the door. “But you haven’t met Ross. He glowers at anything and everybody except his beloved horses.”
She seemed to weigh that, cataloging the piece of information in her mind. He could almost see it working. Obviously uncertain and just as obviously hating that uncertainty, she asked hesitantly, “What should I wear tonight?”
“It will be very informal,” he said. “The Sunset is a working ranch.”
“The Sunset?”
“The Clementses’ ranch is officially the Double R for Red Rock Ranch. But the founder’s wife—Mary Louise Clements—arrived at the site at sunset. She thought it glorious and started calling the ranch the Sunset. Everyone just adopted it. But in answer to your question, no one dresses up much. A pair of slacks and shirt will be just fine.”
She looked at him dubiously.
“You think I would lie?”
“You’re a lawyer.”
“You haven’t gotten over that yet?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “The worst thing about my chosen profession is all the lawyer jokes and misconceptions.” He guided her out the door, then looked at her rental car. “Your room is really a casita, a small cottag
e. It overlooks a creek and you can sit outside and just listen to it gurgle if the family gets to be too much. It’s peaceful, the perfect place to read a book.”
She smiled, and this time it was real, even radiant. It transformed her from an attractive woman into an immensely appealing one.
Guilt started to gnaw at him. So did something else, and that startled him. He wouldn’t, couldn’t become interested in her. Too much was at stake.
She stopped at the car, and he reached for her keys. “Let me drive you down there and help you carry the luggage inside.”
Jessie hesitated, then agreed. She gave him the car keys and got in on the passenger side without waiting for him to open the door. He backed the car up, then drove it to the end of the drive. He’d always marveled at the design of the resort, and he noticed that she too awed. The Southwestern contemporary-styled building blended perfectly into the red rock terrain. Red tile roofs gave it an expensive, sophisticated look.
Cullen had searched out the best architects for this resort and spent millions to create something unique. The cost overrides had been terrific, and the property still hadn’t yet made a profit despite its popularity with tourists. Cullen would feel the financial yoke around his neck for years unless …
But that was Cullen’s problem, not Alex’s. He had warned the oldest of the Clements cousins about overreaching, a warning that had been ignored.
Alex drove his passenger to a small group of casitas, separate little cottages situated alongside a creek that tumbled merrily down from a cliff behind it. He suspected she would like the privacy it provided, especially with all the pressure Sarah would exert to get her to move into the ranch house. Sarah had been profoundly disappointed that Jessica had decided to stay in Sedona at the Quest rather than at the Sunset.
She would soon discover that her probable niece had a mind of her own.
Alex parked the car in front of the first casita, then got out and opened the truck and lifted her suitcase from it. Then he unlocked the door of the casita and stood aside as she entered.
Perfect Family Page 5