Unmasking the Maverick Prince

by Kristi Gold

  How was she going to dig herself out of this one? Honesty was the best course. “I spent quite a bit of time with him during the interview process. I consider him a friend.” And so much more. “He’s a good man who happens to be in a lot of pain. I don’t like to see anyone suffer.”

  “And you’re suggesting that by adding my thoughts to this story, I’ll alleviate some of his resentment toward me?”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  “I admire your optimism, Ms. Barnett, even if I don’t embrace it.” He crossed one leg over the other and adjusted his red tie. “If I speak to you off the record, can I trust that you won’t repeat what I’m about to tell you?”

  Tori pushed the recorder to one side and folded her hands in front of her. “Of course. But again, I don’t want you to feel you have to say anything more.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t. But I’ve spoken with Mitch’s grandfather and he seems to think you have more than a passing interest in Mitch. He also speaks very highly of you.”

  Tori nearly choked. “You’ve talked to Buck?”

  “Yes. He’s been much more understanding and forgiving than Mitch.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He claims that you’re the woman who could bring my son around. I might have passed that off as the ramblings of a hopeful grandfather, but after listening to you for the past few moments, I believe he could be right.”

  Lord, her feelings for Mitch must be flashing like a neon sign across her face. “As I’ve said, we’re only friends. I think Buck would like it to be more, but that’s not very likely.”

  He looked more than a little skeptical. “Mitch could use a friend. Someone who understands why his wounds run so deep.”

  Tori already recognized the depths of Mitch’s wounds. She also realized every story had two sides. She’d heard Mitch’s version; she might as well hear his father’s since he was willing to provide it. “Okay, then. If you think it will help, I’m willing to listen.”

  He shifted in the chair, the first sign of a chink in his composure. “I’m assuming Mitch told you he has never forgiven me for marrying only months after his mother’s death.”

  “Yes. He sees it as a betrayal of her memory.”

  “It’s difficult to explain why things happen the way they do,” he continued. “Caroline was there to see me through a very tough time in my life. Not only had I lost my wife, I’d lost my son as well.”

  “And grief drew you both together.” Not so different from Tori’s and Mitch’s connection brought about by their shared sorrow over the loss of their mothers.

  “I suppose in some ways I couldn’t face the prospect of living my life alone. Maybe that’s a sign of weakness, and maybe that held true in the beginning. But Caroline and I have had a good life that’s developed into a solid, loving relationship. Unfortunately, it hasn’t included Mitch, by his choice.”

  “Maybe now that you’re relinquishing your senate seat, it might be easier to repair your relationship. If you do intend to retire.”

  “I do, and my reasons have to do with something that is not yet public knowledge.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Again, I’m taking a chance by trusting you, but because you obviously care about my son, I believe this is something you should know. Another reason why Mitch and I might never heal the breach in our relationship.”

  Tori could not imagine what he was about to say, or if she really wanted to hear it. But if it directly involved Mitch, she needed to know. “Go ahead.”

  “I’m leaving the senate because my wife’s pregnant.”

  Great. Mitch was about to have a sibling and a child. Fine fodder for the scandal machine. “Congratulations. When’s the baby due?”

  “My daughter should be here in five months.”

  “A girl? That’s wonderful.”

  He flashed a father’s smile full of pride, but it quickly faded. “Caroline is in her early forties, so it’s a high-risk pregnancy. But so far everything is going well. I pray that continues.”

  Tori witnessed sincere concern in his eyes, maybe even a hint of fear. Understandable. He’d already lost one wife; he was worried he might lose another. “I’m sure everything will be fine. And maybe this blessing will be the first step in repairing your relationship with Mitch.”

  “I’m not sure if or when I should tell him.”

  Ironic that Tori was in the same boat. “He probably should hear it from you instead of someone else.” Advice she should follow, something that was becoming all too clear. “When the press gets wind of this, it will be all over the country.”

  “I know. I’ll have to decide how to handle that soon.”

  “In the meantime, if you could find something favorable to say about Mitch for this article, that could help open the lines of communication.”

  When another long span of silence commenced, Tori feared he might not agree. Then he pointed to the recorder near her hand. “Turn that on.”

  Tori fumbled for the switch, earning a genuine smile from the senator. “Okay, I’m all set.”

  He settled back in the chair, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Mitch is a fine man and I respect his decision not to carry on the tradition of politics in the family. I’m very proud of what he’s accomplished, and I know his mother would be as well.” He hesitated for a long moment and in his eyes Tori saw the depth of his pain and remorse. “I love him as much as any man could love his son.”

  He rose from the chair and said, “You may quote that.”

  Tori swallowed around the fullness in her throat, struggling to keep the threatening tears at bay as she stood. “Wouldn’t you rather tell him that in person?”

  He released a resigned sigh. “I gave up on convincing Mitch that I’ve always had his best interest at heart, even if I’ve made more than my share of mistakes.”

  “Maybe he’ll be ready to listen after the article comes out.”

  “That would be great. And a miracle. But if he isn’t willing to communicate with me, you can tell him for me. All of it. And take care of him.”

  With that, he was out the door, and Tori was left alone, stunned by his assumption that Mitch would ever consider letting her take care of him. Shocked that he had so easily read and accurately interpreted her feelings for his son, with a little help from Buck and her own inability to hide her emotions.

  At least she had a quote she could use to appease Renee. A sincere, heartfelt quote from a father who was suffering as much as his son. But would Mitch welcome his father’s words, or would he take exception to Tori including them? She had no choice. This involved her standing with her editor, her job. Possibly better pay and a promotion, something she would need if she were forced to raise her baby alone as well as pay off her debts. Yet deep down, Tori remained hopeful that this would be a catalyst for opening a dialogue between Mitch and his father. An opportunity for both men to heal. Then again, maybe she was being overly optimistic.

  The other two decisions she now faced weighed even heavier on her mind—if and when to tell Mitch about the baby, and whether to open the faded envelope resting atop her desk. Right now, she would deal with the latter.

  Drawing a cleansing breath, Tori slit the envelope’s seal with one shaky fingertip and unfolded the single page. A faded photo dropped onto the desk—a snapshot of her youthful mother and a smiling cowboy. Presumably, Tori’s father.

  She gripped the letter in one hand while covering her mouth with the other, her vision blurred from tears as she read the information she’d avoided most of her life.

  His name was Rick Ballard. He’d had medium brown hair, dark brown eyes and a pirate’s smile, a sweet-talker of the first order. He’d hailed from Wyoming and spent his life on the road as a bull rider. One weekend in October, he’d come to Quail Run to participate in the local rodeo and had sufficiently swept Tori’s then seventeen-year-old mother off her feet and into his arms. Eventually into his motel bed on their last night together—the nigh
t Tori had been conceived.

  The final two revelations sent a sob climbing up Tori’s throat that slipped out on the heels of her unexpected sorrow.

  He had died two months before Tori’s third birthday in a tragic rodeo accident while doing what he loved to do. Before that fateful day, he had never known that Victoria May Barnett existed, because he’d never known about the pregnancy. And her mother had lied to her daughter all those years by claiming it had been careless disregard that had kept him away from his child.

  Tori cleared away her shock to read the four simple words closing the letter, a plea for forgiveness.

  “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  Caught in a stranglehold of emotions, Tori swiped furiously at the tears now streaming down her cheeks. She experienced regret over the loss of her father and anger over her mother’s deception. And confused. Why hadn’t she been forthcoming with the truth? Maybe Cynthia Barnett had been so ashamed that she’d needed to blame her lover. Maybe she’d inherently known that the man she loved was not interested in commitment and she couldn’t change that.

  Since the letter offered no explanation for her mother’s motives, Tori would never know the whys. But she did know two things.

  She would forgive her mother and let go of any bitterness. Otherwise, she would end up like a man she knew. And she had to tell that man about their baby. She would not let her own child suffer the same fate of never knowing its father, regardless of what Mitch chose to do with the information.

  For the remaining five workdays, Tori would prepare for the article’s release the following Monday. That left the weekend open to do what she had to do. Come Saturday night, she would return home to face her past…and her future.

  Ten

  I love him as much as any man could love his son….

  For the third time in the past half-hour, Mitch read the words in total disbelief. He’d received the advance copy that morning by courier and he realized Tori had probably sent it. Yet she hadn’t enclosed a note or an explanation. In fact, he hadn’t heard a thing from her since she’d left.

  “Smart girl, that Tori,” Buck said from the desk chair in the den while he surfed the Internet. “She made you look like a saint in that story.”

  Mitch had no argument about the content of the article… until he’d come upon the quote from his father near the end. He tossed the pages aside and leaned his head back on the tattered sofa. “She didn’t have to go to him for his opinion.”

  Buck swiveled the chair away from the monitor and glared. “Didn’t you read what your daddy said? He’s proud of you, thinks you’re a good man and—”

  “I read it, Buck.”

  “But you ain’t paying attention.”

  He knew his grandfather well enough to know he wouldn’t let it go until he’d had his say. Well, Mitch intended to have his say, too. “Why shouldn’t I believe this isn’t just another ploy to win over his constituency?”

  “Because he never needed you for that before. And he’s about to take his bow. He’s not running again.”

  “He hasn’t confirmed that yet. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “Believe it. He told me it’s so.”

  Mitch straightened, every muscle in his body taut with both shock and fury. “When did you speak with him?”

  Buck shrugged. “Last Sunday, like I’ve done almost every Sunday for the past fifteen years. He calls me to check on you since you won’t give him the time of day.”

  Obviously everyone he cared about was bent on subterfuge. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Probably because of the way you’re reacting right now.”

  “And you didn’t think I had a right to know or any say-so in the matter?”

  “No. I can say whatever I please to whoever I please. I didn’t live almost eighty years to have a wet-behind-the-ears grandson telling me otherwise.”

  Overcome by blinding anger, Mitch swept the article off the couch with his forearm. “And I don’t appreciate you going behind my back.”

  Buck bolted from the chair and stood over Mitch, the fires of hell in his rheumy eyes. “You listen here, young man. You might not respect your daddy, but you will respect me. You’ve been mule stubborn for much too long. If I can forgive him, then you can, too. She was my daughter, for God’s sake.”

  “And she was my mother! Tell me one good reason why I should forgive him for not bothering to be at her deathbed, then marrying another woman before his first wife was barely cold in her grave?”

  Buck yanked the magazine from the floor and jabbed a finger at the page. “The reason’s right here, plain as the nose on your face. He loves you.”

  Mitch didn’t need this. He didn’t want to deal with it. For two solid weeks, he’d done nothing but think about Tori, the loss eating at his insides like rust. Now she’d betrayed him by talking with his father when she’d known all along how he felt about that. “Good for good old Dad. Might have been nice if he’d said it to me in person instead of in print for the world to see.”

  Now Buck tossed the magazine onto the couch. “Good God, Gus. Don’t you remember him telling you every time he left you here in the summer? He said it until you got too big for your britches and quit listening.”

  “And he quit listening to me a long time ago. He didn’t listen when I asked him—begged him—to stay when Mom was sick. He ran off to serve his country, as always. We weren’t important enough for him to stick around for any length of time.”

  “You were important to him, Gus. And it was tough on him, leaving you behind to deal with your mama’s sickness. But he tried to get back that night. He didn’t know she was going to pass before he made it here. None of us knew.”

  Mitch felt incredibly tired at the moment. Too tired to rehash old recriminations. “We’ve been through this before.”

  Buck snatched his decrepit straw hat from his head and crushed it in his hands. “And we’ll keep going through it until you get it through your hard head. Your daddy has never stopped loving you, even when you turned your back on him, just like you turned your back on Tori.”

  Where the hell had that come from? “This has nothing to do with her.”

  “It has everything to do with her. You’re making the same mistakes. Just like you won’t admit you love your daddy, you won’t admit that you love her either.”

  Mitch’s gut burned and he closed his eyes against the pounding in his temples, the truth of that statement digging at his heart. “You’re crazy, old man.”

  “I might be crazy, but you’re a coward.”

  Mitch’s eyes snapped open. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. You’re a coward. A yellow, lily-livered coward.”

  “I’m not afraid of her.”

  “You’re afraid of your feelings for her, dammit,” he hissed. “Admit it to me. You love that girl, otherwise you wouldn’t be moping around here, biting anyone’s head off if they come within fifty feet of you. You’re so sick in love you can’t even think straight. Hell, if it hadn’t been for Rand, you would’ve shipped sperm instead of software to that college in Idaho.”

  He would spend years trying to live down that mistake and no telling how many more. “Let it go, Buck.”

  “Not until you say it.”

  This time Mitch vaulted from his seat. “I said let it go.”

  “I’m going to stand here until you say it, or I die in my tracks, whichever comes first. You know I will.”

  “Okay, I love her!” Mitch blurted. “Are you happy now?”

  Buck’s grin looked victorious. “Nope. Not until you tell her.”

  Mitch paced the room, restless with the admission and the knowledge that he’d blown it with Tori. “I haven’t heard a word from her in two weeks. The day she left, I told her I wanted to see her again, but she refused.”

  “Maybe that’s because you didn’t offer her more than a quick tumble every now and then. That don’t set too well with the womenfolk.”


  Mitch stopped at the shelf and faced Buck again. “What am I supposed to offer her?”

  “Marriage.”

  “You are crazy. We’ve only known each other a short time.” Yet Mitch felt as if he’d known her for years. She certainly knew him better than any woman ever had. She knew him better than any living soul.

  “That don’t matter, Gus. Why, I met your grandmother on a blind date one weekend and we got married the next, before I shipped off to the army. Your mama went down to college in Austin, met your daddy her second year, then married him two months later. You came along about ten months after that.”

  “That’s you and my parents, not me. I prefer to wait a little longer before I decide something that will affect the rest of my life.”

  “You’ve waited too long as it is. It’s time to grow up, Gus. Be a man. Commit to something other than this place cause it won’t keep you warm in the winter. Have a few babies, too. I’d like some great-grandkids hanging around before I get too old to take them fishing by the creek.”

  Mitch held up his hands, palms forward. “Whoa! You’re getting way ahead of yourself. I haven’t said I’m going to propose, not to mention Tori’s not even speaking to me.”

  “She will, as long as you say the right thing,” Buck said with certainty. “By the way, me and Eula are going to get married in the next week or two, so I’ll move in with her. That’ll give you and Tori this place all to yourself.”

  A banner day for bizarre news, Mitch decided. “You’re serious?”

  “Yep. Eula’s a good moral woman and I got to buy the package before I get the goods.”

  “You’re marrying her so you can have sex?”

  Buck chuckled. “I’m marrying her because I love the woman. Sex at my age is just topping on the cake.”

  Despite Mitch’s determination not to, he laughed. “Congratulations, Gramps. I hope like hell you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do.” Buck pointed a bony finger at him. “And if you call me Gramps again, I’ll take you down a notch or two. I also expect to be saying congratulations to you real soon. Maybe we can have a double wedding.”