Perfect Family

by Potter, Patricia;

  “And my father’s book?”

  “It was in his room. He left everything. Wherever he went that afternoon, whatever he saw, he never returned to the house. I suppose now it should be yours. And that,” he said, “brings me to official business. We can wait and go over everything at my office, or at the ranch.”

  Her eyes went to his briefcase then. “I don’t want to discuss anything at the ranch, not with Sarah and Marc there,” she said, wary now of everyone’s motive or intentions. “Can we do it here?”

  He looked. “Of course.”

  He sat down in the only chair in the room. From her perch on the bed, she had to look down at him. It gave her just a small sense of power, and that was something she felt dearly in need of.

  “I think you know some of it,” he said. “The Sunset and its assets were left in trust to the five surviving children and subsequently their heirs. Each of the original five had one vote in case of a sale. If the one share was divided among several heirs, such as Elizabeth and her brother, they have to agree together how they want to vote that share. Only blood relatives can inherit. As you know, that excludes Ross. It wasn’t aimed at him; he wasn’t born when the will was made. But Mary Louise and Hall had wanted the ranch to remain with the bloodline.”

  “What happens if one of the children dies without blood heirs?”

  “It depends. The share could be left to the family to be divided, or left to a specific member of the family who would then have full voting rights for that share. Or it can be left to a non-family member. In that event, though, the trust kicks in. The share would have to be offered to the family for its market value.”

  She absorbed that. “So if Ross inherited, he couldn’t keep the share himself?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not fair—he’s her adopted son.”

  “Fairness doesn’t have anything to do with it,” he said, pulling out some papers from the briefcase. “The family has accepted the DNA tests as proof of your relationship, and so when you sign these papers and I file everything, you become one-fifth owner of the Sunset.”

  “What if I don’t want it?”

  “Then you will create one hell of a mess,” he said. “You realize that there’s been an offer for the Sunset. If you agree to the sale, you will receive in excess of a million and a half dollars. Three members of the family—Halden; Katherine, who is Harry’s only heir; and Hugh’s family, Elizabeth and Andrew—have all indicated they would vote for the sale. Only Sarah has voted no.”

  “So I have a choice of going against all but one of the family, or seeing Sarah’s heart break?”

  The side of his mouth twitched slightly. “That about says it.”

  “So everyone wants something from me. My vote.”

  “To be fair, they also like you, and family really is important to all of them. Harding’s a legend in the family. He had a magic touch with horses. Everyone liked your father.”

  “He looked so young in photos. And without a care,” Jessie said. “I don’t remember him like that, and it makes me unbearably sad.”

  Alex didn’t reply.

  “He never smiled, and he drank too often, and then he would get sullen,” she said. “He was so … dissatisfied.”

  “Your mother?”

  “She left us not long after I was born. But you must know that,” she added a little resentfully.

  “No,” he replied. “We only knew she wasn’t with him those last years. It must have been hard for him, raising a child alone.” Alex’s voice was kind.

  “It was. I don’t know how he managed when I was a baby, but later I remember any number of baby-sitters.” She shrugged. “We moved frequently, then there would be a new one. It’s strange but I can’t remember any of them now. They were never with us long enough. I just remembered how …”

  She stopped, and he didn’t press. She was grateful. She didn’t understand why she was babbling on. She seldom confided in others, but her emotions were like raw nerve ends. Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. And now someone was throwing sums around, sums like more than a million dollars. She added it up. Even after taxes, she would have enough, if properly invested, to never worry about money again.

  She saw Sarah in her mind’s eye, recalled her words when they rode together up to the Saddle. The Sunset was her aunt’s life. But was that more important than what the money could do for the lives of the other members of the family?

  “And the bonds?” she asked. “It’s not just my vote everyone wants. They also want to know if I have the key to some … hidden treasure.” She looked into his eyes. “Everyone wants something and it’s not me.”

  “That’s not true. You’ll be welcome no matter what you do. Marc and Cullen and others would like you to sell, yes. They have asked me to explain the benefits. But Sarah refuses to sell, and they still love her.”

  “And how would she feel if I voted with them against her? She was born in that house.”

  “She could do anything she wished,” he said. “She could buy almost anything she liked.”

  “Except the Sunset.” She stared at him until he looked away. She knew what she was going to do. It was probably foolish, but she’d never expected an inheritance. She couldn’t regret losing something she’d never had, never earned. But she wasn’t ready to make that declaration yet.

  “What do you think I should do?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Not a fair question to ask me. My fees would be astronomical if the sale is closed.”

  “That’s not the way to convince me.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think so. I suspect you don’t want to sell.”

  “Why?”

  “Because material things don’t seem to mean a great deal to you.”

  “If you grow up without a lot of things, then you don’t miss them. I can’t even imagine what I would do with that much money.”

  “Well, there are taxes, though the trust was designed to avoid some of them.”

  “I suppose I also feel that I don’t have a right to do anything,” she admitted. “The easiest thing seems to be to do nothing.”

  He passed her some papers. “You don’t have to make a decision immediately. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t.”

  “I’ll take them and read them. Carefully,” she said.

  Alex looked at her with new respect. “We have another week before the offer will be withdrawn. Once you were found … Cullen requested, and received, an extension.”

  “What happens to Ross if the ranch is sold?”

  “He’d get another job, I suppose. He shouldn’t have a problem. He’s a good manager. Even Marc admits that.”

  A knock came at the door. A hospital staffer entered, along with a man pushing an empty wheelchair. “I think the doctor told you to have the stitches removed in about ten days,” the woman said. “Here’s a prescription if you need something for pain.”

  “The bill?”

  “Already been taken care of,” the woman said.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” the woman said. “I just know there’s no balance.”

  Jessie looked at Alex. He shrugged. “I imagine Marc took care of it. It happened in the family home.” Then he grinned, “And yours.”

  It didn’t feel like her house when she walked inside. Except, of course, for Ben’s ecstatic barking. She realized the dog had probably been waiting at the door, and she knelt beside him, giving him a huge hug as Ben squirmed in a frenzy of happiness. She lost herself in that welcome for a moment, not really wanting to face everyone else in the house.

  But she had to.

  She still felt a shiver of fear. It was probably foolish. No one had actually hurt her, or threatened her. The blow on her head could have been from a falling box. The bonds probably were only a half-forgotten legend with just enough truth to be a mystery.

  Sarah was hovering nearby. She looked as if she hadn’t had any sleep, either. “How are you feeling?” Sar
ah’s words came in a rush. “I think you should sit down. Or should you be lying down? And you must be hungry. I’ll have something fixed for you.”

  All Jessie really wanted was to disappear into her room and study the documents Alex had given her. She wanted to be alone to mull over what Alex had said. And hadn’t said.

  There had been no pressure, which surprised her. But then pressure would have made her stubborn. Could they know that?

  They. Her family. She wanted nothing more at the moment than to be back in her shop in Atlanta, among the books that had been her friends and family. Undemanding friends and family. But, like Alice, she was in a world she didn’t understand and where danger lurked in unknown and unexpected places.

  But she’d already decided she wasn’t going to run again, and she meant it.

  She had glanced over at Ross’s house, but she saw no movement. His truck wasn’t there, either. She felt a stab of disappointment that he hadn’t visited her, nor apparently been concerned enough to see how she was.

  Sarah’s face was drawn, her expression apprehensive. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I wanted to go to the hospital this morning, but Alex said he needed to talk to you.”

  “He explained everything about the trust,” Jessie said.

  “Good. If you have any more questions, just ask me.”

  Jessie had a bunch of them, but she didn’t expect to get any answers. And now was not the time. The elderly Halden was sitting in a chair, watching.

  “Jessie,” he said, his face crumbling with concern.

  She went over to him and sat on a footstool nearby. He held out a hand and took hers, patting it. “I heard what happened last night,” he said. “I am so sorry you were hurt.”

  “At least I discovered I have a hard head,” she said with a smile. He did seem genuinely concerned about her.

  “It’s a very pretty one,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

  She started feeling mellow again. Certainly neither he nor Sarah had asked for her vote. They were concerned. About her. Not her vote, not some bonds that probably didn’t exist.

  She found herself smiling, despite the continued pounding in her head. “You must be prejudiced.” And it felt rather nice that someone was prejudiced toward her.

  Jessie felt herself relaxing. Ben was crowded next to her. Her uncle kept his hand on hers. Uncle. Aunt. Both words still felt strange, and yet they remained a siren’s song to her despite everything she now knew.

  Alex had followed her inside and over to where she sat. “The doctor advised her to keep quiet and get some rest.” He took a prescription bottle out of his pocket and handed it to her. He had stopped at a pharmacy on the drive home. “And now I have to get back to the office.”

  “Thank you,” Jessie said. “For driving me home.”

  The qualification was obvious. He grinned, acknowledging it. “Let me know when you’re ready to sign those papers,” he said. “Or if you have any other questions.”

  A sudden silence descended on the room.

  Then Ben barked. He’d heard something outside. Ross. Just the thought made her heart beat faster and a flush rise to her cheeks. Even as niggling strands of thoughts wouldn’t go away.

  She stood, her hand sliding from Halden’s grasp, and picked up her handbag and the file of papers Alex had given her. Her fingers tightened around them. “I will,” she said, trying not to notice that Sarah and Halden were obviously listening intently. She wanted to run for her room, for haven. In seconds, Ross might be coming up the steps outside. Into the room.

  So why was she going into a panic?

  Remember, you said you weren’t going to run again. Not from choices. Not from the Clementses. Not from Ross. No more running. No more shadows.

  Besides, she felt rooted to the floor as Ben’s barks grew more excited.

  Her gaze turned toward the door as it opened, and Ross stood there. Ben went running over to him, dancing around him with nearly as much enthusiasm as he had with her.

  But Ross didn’t lean down and pet Ben. Instead, his gaze went directly to her and in their depths she saw something she didn’t want to see.

  Guilt.

  twenty-one

  Ross saw Alex’s sports vehicle in front of the house as he drove up. He’d left his house early to trailer one of his horses to an anxious buyer near Phoenix. He’d stopped in Sedona on the way back to deposit the check. Then, anxious to see Jess, he’d driven back, only to hear from Dan’l that she was at the hospital. The boy told him she had been hit by a box in the attic.

  He’d driven to the hospital, but too late. She had already left. Why in the hell hadn’t Sarah come for him last night? Why hadn’t Jess asked for him? Because of the way he’d left things last night?

  Sarah had said only that Jessie had asked her not to wake him. He’d been furious with her, and furious with Jess for making such a request. Neither did he understand why Timber had made no noise, but then he remembered that the dog had been restless at some time during the night. He also remembered hearing a car, but then Marc often came home late from some meeting or another.

  Dammit, but the woman turned him into knots. He’d known he should stay away from Jessie, that he’d made a bad mistake last night when he’d allowed lust, or whatever in the hell it was, to take over his common sense and usual self-control. It was a mistake that could eventually be disastrous. He only wished that he had said something, or done something, when Jessie told him about overhearing something about that damned letter. He’d never suspected that she planned to go rummaging around in that attic.

  The best-laid plans. And now as he looked into her face, he saw a mixture of emotions, ranging from a quick blush to suspicion.

  “Jess,” he said, “I was just at the hospital, but you’d already left.”

  The rose in her cheeks deepened. “Alex picked me up.”

  “I didn’t know what happened until noon today. Sarah didn’t tell me last night and I left early this morning to take a horse down to Phoenix. Dan’l said a box struck you?” He didn’t have to ask what she was doing in the attic.

  “Or something,” she said with just a small edge to her voice.

  He didn’t miss the edge to her voice. And he didn’t like the way she’d phrased her answer. But neither did he wish to ask questions with others in the room. Then he saw the papers in her hand. Clutched in her hand.

  Ross knew what they were. The key to the Sunset, to Sarah’s life, to his future. To Jessica’s safety.

  And the look in her eyes made him feel as if he had just been sucker-punched. “I had better get back to work. I just wanted to know if you were all right.”

  She nodded, her hazel eyes appearing a little moist. Damn, but he wanted to take her in his arms. Instead, he went over to Sarah. Her face softened, some of the tension fading. He reached out and touched her shoulder, then forced himself not to look at Jessie again. He turned and retraced his steps out the door and to the barn. He wished he had something to strike, words strong enough to dislodge the lump in his throat.

  Instead he turned his thoughts to the horses. He needed to work with one of the young colts. The price he’d received—the ranch had received—for a green broke three-year-old had been just what he needed to show everyone they could make a good profit. He’d hated to let the colt go, but Ross knew he had to produce some revenue. Now he had others coming up, a reputation to sustain.

  He went back to his house to let Timber out. Unlike Jessie’s Ben, Timber greeted his master with dignity. Ross found himself missing the spontaneous joy of Jessie’s Ben. But then she herself had a spontaneity. She also had fire under that quiet reserve, a glow that often transformed her face.

  But there had been no glow today. Had the “accident” been no accident at all? And if not, who might have caused it? He remembered the suspicion in her eyes, the fact that she’d not asked for him last night. Surely she couldn’t believe he might harm her.

  The thought was like a knife wound to h
is soul. She certainly had no reason to trust him, not even after last night. He had kept things from her, and she sensed it. He felt as if he were walking a tightrope, and the slightest misstep would destroy Sarah. Unfortunately, Sarah didn’t seem to be as aware of the dangers as he was.

  He went into the barn, saddled a colt named Black Jack, and led him out. He would spend the rest of the day working him, then go to the cantina. He wished he could get drunk, but he didn’t drive when he’d been drinking. One beer, yes. Two, maybe; three, no.

  He tried not to look at the ranch house as he put the horse through the paces, talking, always talking. He took him out into the pasture where he kept several head of cattle just for this reason, to teach the horse the maneuvers necessary for a cutting horse. Much of it was instinct, and Black Jack was a natural with plenty of heart. That meant more than stamina or speed.

  Heart. It was something he always felt lacking in himself. Perhaps because he’d walled himself off. He’d been afraid to trust, afraid to feel. He had damned little to offer anyone.

  Don’t think about it.

  Work.

  Don’t think about a young woman who was probably afraid, hurt, and bewildered.

  She has Alex.

  Why did that notion hurt so much?

  Jessie watched him from a window. She’d pleaded exhaustion and retired to her room, Ben in tow.

  Her head still hurt. She thought about taking one of the pills Alex had bought, but then opted for a couple of aspirins instead. She didn’t want her judgment clouded any more than it already was.

  A knock on the door. She went and opened it. Sarah stood there with a tray loaded with hot chocolate and hot cinnamon bread.

  Sarah smiled. “I always like hot chocolate and cinnamon bread when I don’t feel well.”

  No one had ever brought Jessie hot chocolate, much less cinnamon bread. “Sit with me for a few moments,” she said.

  Sarah’s smile widened as she put the tray down on a table. She suddenly looked younger, and yet there was a bluish tinge to her skin. Jessie knew that Alex had not been lying or exaggerating. Sarah was ill. Spontaneously, Jessie reached out her hand and touched her aunt’s.