Deception

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Deception Page 8

by Carolyn Haines


  “No word. I read for a small part. I should know something tomorrow, and by the way, it’s a big asset that I can ride.”

  “I’m glad to know my skills haven’t been wasted.”

  “When the month is up, what are you going to do, Connor?”

  “I wish I knew. I can’t afford to go back to California.” She suddenly felt very much alone. “This house is creepier than a walk through a cemetery. I don’t know where I’ll go from here. I should have thought this through better.”

  “If it comes to it, you can count on me for any help. Keep your doors locked. You promise?”

  “I will.” She noticed the bolt was wide open. She’d take care of it as soon as she got off the phone. “Talk with you soon, Richard.”

  She replaced the receiver and sat up. She didn’t exactly feel better, but at least she knew what had happened. Richard simply wasn’t aware of the depth of the troubles at Oaklawn. His recommendation of her for the job and her acceptance had been a case of the blind leading the blind.

  She went to the door, thinking about the possibility of tracking her father down. She could find him, but it might take weeks. It was simply a matter of calling from one track town to the next. Tomas Tremaine was not a hard man to identify.

  Her hand was on the doorknob to check the lock when she heard the laughter outside her door. She paused, listening carefully.

  “She won’t last a week,” Renata whispered, her voice filled with determination.

  “I like riding,” Danny said, a plea in his voice.

  “Connor Tremaine is trouble. She thinks she’s so cool that nothing can shake her up. Well, we’ll see about that.”

  “Don’t hurt her, Renata. Okay?” Danny pleaded.

  “Nobody has to get hurt, if she leaves,” Renata said.

  Connor slipped the chain on her door. She was tempted to step outside and announce her intentions of staying at Oaklawn until she was ninety, but she checked the impulse. Challenging Renata in front of her brother would do nothing to enhance a friendship.

  She waited at her door until she was sure the children had gone. She wanted to check Cleo and Tinker before she called it a day. She hurried downstairs and was passing the kitchen door when she heard Willene calling her name.

  “Mr. Sumner went back to town for several hours. Since he won’t be here for dinner, I was wondering if you’d prefer a tray in your room? You look as if you’d benefit from a meal without your two new charges.”

  “Thanks.” Connor was deeply touched by Willene’s concern. The idea of eating with Renata and Danny, without Clay’s supervisory presence, was distressing. “That would be great. I’m going to the barn for about half an hour. Then I’m going to take a bath.”

  “Tuck yourself into bed and I’ll bring something up to you.”

  “Where’s Sally?”

  Willene laughed. “Honey, it’s Saturday night. Jeff asked her to take in a movie in town.”

  “Isn’t Sally a little young for Jeff?” The question sounded ridiculous, and Connor shook her head. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Jeff is a mite old for her, but she’s got her heart set on him.”

  “She seems like such a nice girl.” Connor didn’t have to finish the comparison.

  “Jeff can be fast company, but Sally knows the truth. Sometimes she acts like she hasn’t got a brain, but I believe she does. Now, run on and finish up at the barn. Time’s awastin’.”

  Twilight was sinking on the tall pines as Connor hurried, her booted feet scrunching the shells. A hot bath and dinner in bed sounded wonderful. There were benefits to working at Oaklawn. How long had it been since she’d had a meal served to her in bed? Her mother had done it occasionally, as a special treat, but that had been many years ago, when she was still a high-schooler.

  She checked the water and the hay for both horses, then killed the main lights. The barn contained a thick, magnificent quiet, like a church. The rustling, snuffling noises of the horses only gave the silence a deeper tone. She loved the smells, the sounds of horses. Only the single bulb near the office door burned, and she walked the length of the barn to capture the cord and pull it down. The barn was wrapped in thick darkness.

  The scruff of a boot was distinct. She didn’t panic until she remembered that Jeff had taken Sally into town. She stepped away from the wall and edged toward the horses’ stalls. The sound of leather-clad feet followed slowly behind her.

  Clay was away. Old Henry had gone home hours before. The children were in the house, and so was Willene. Or were they? She had the sudden inspiration that Renata might have activated the first phase of her plan to drive Connor out.

  Well, turn about was fair play. Connor slipped along the stall door, and then very quietly crossed the hall and moved up the other side of the stalls back to the front door. Now all she had to do was slip upon Renata and nab her.

  The barn was totally dark, and she cursed herself for not having had the good sense to leave the door open when she’d gone in. She couldn’t be certain where Renata had gone, but the child had to be somewhere in the center of the barn aisle.

  Trusting to good luck, Connor let out a cry and flung herself down the center of the barn. To her shock, she plunged headlong into a very solid adult-sized body.

  She and the intruder went crashing to the ground, and there was the sound of a confused curse.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, finding her feet and rushing to the main light switch near the front door. She flooded the barn with the overheads. A tall, blond man was lying in the corridor, looking very angry.

  “Do you always attack your visitors?” He pushed himself to his feet, then retrieved an empty crystal glass. “Clay would have been upset if you’d broken his Waterford, and I went to such pains to pilfer this last Christmas.”

  “Who are you?” Connor’s fear had drained away, and her hot temper was on the rise. “Who do you think you are, coming onto Mr. Sumner’s property?”

  “I think I’m Mr. Sumner. In fact, I know I am.” He dusted his slacks carefully with his hand before he looked at Connor again. When he did look, he made a slow, insulting survey. “Your eyes are startling when you’re angry.”

  “I don’t care who you say you are. If you aren’t out of here in sixty seconds, I’m calling the sheriff.”

  “Very nice, the way your chest moves in and out. Provocative. Lick your lips a bit, and …”

  “Okay, mister.” Connor strode past him toward the office.

  “Call, if it makes you feel any better, but you’d better tell them you’re trying to evict Mr. Sumner.”

  “Which Mr. Sumner?” Connor uttered the question from between clenched teeth.

  “Harlan Sumner, Clay’s older brother.”

  “The doctor.” Connor finally understood. Harlan didn’t look like Clay at all, except for his height and hair color. She studied the man as he walked toward her. His eyes were darker, perhaps a dense gray. But the humor that sometimes danced in Clay’s eyes was completely missing. She’d never have guessed they were brothers.

  “Clay’s in town,” she said. “Willene didn’t mention that you were at the house.”

  “I wasn’t at the house. I was waiting down here for you.”

  A chill touched Connor and she edged closer to the door. “Why?”

  “I wanted to get a look at the horse trainer that Clay was willing to spend so much money on. Now I know why. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tremaine, even under these circumstances.”

  “I’m going back to the house. Shall I tell Willene to expect you for dinner?” She didn’t like Harlan Sumner.

  “Aren’t you even going to apologize for knocking me into the dirt?” Harlan laughed. “I daresay, Clay would have been amused at that picture. I didn’t realize you were also hired to guard the premises.”

  “My horses are here, Dr. Sumner. No one has to pay me to watch over something I care about. If you’re injured, I’m sorry.” She went to the lights. “Now,
if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to lock up the barn.”

  “I’m ready to escort you to the house.” Harlan followed her out the door and waited while she made sure everything was closed tight. “How are you finding things at Oaklawn?”

  “Everything is fine.” She’d have died before she’d have admitted a single problem to Harlan Sumner.

  “No problems with those dear children?”

  “Not a one. In fact, they’re here, if you’d like to have dinner with them.”

  “No, no.” He put his hand on the small of her back as they walked up the drive. “I came to meet you.”

  Connor edged away from him. “And now you have.”

  “One thing about Clay, he always has exquisite taste in women. He’s had plenty of practice, too. Not necessarily a good trait for a man with Clay’s political aspirations, but he seems to think that laws of morality have nothing to do with, say, environmental laws.” Harlan chuckled. “That’s my brother, though. He does have his little idiosyncracies.”

  “Dr. Sumner, I hope you’ll excuse me. I have some correspondence to take care of in my room. I’ll tell Willene you’re on the premises.”

  “Oh, don’t bother. I’m not staying. I pop in and out of Oaklawn on an erratic basis. After all, it is the old family homestead. I’m sure I’ll be dropping by when you least expect me.”

  Connor saw the front porch lights with a sense of being rescued. “Goodnight, doctor.” She hurried up the steps and in the front door without looking back. Harlan Sumner was a creep.

  “Ms. Tremaine!”

  She turned slowly, her boot resting just over the threshold. “Yes?”

  “Watch my brother. He likes women who offer a challenge. In fact, he finds them irresistible. But once they’re conquered, he finds little use for them. You’re an attractive woman. I’d hate to see you the latest victim on his human trash heap.”

  “How kind of you to take an interest in a stranger,” Connor said slowly. “I heard that was a Southern trait.”

  “I’m not playing with you,” Harlan answered. In the clear warmth of the September night his voice was honey-smooth. “It’s true. I’ve always wanted what my brother had. It’s so psychologically correct.” He laughed. “But I don’t take his leavings when it comes to women. And that’s what you’d eventually become, just another warm body left behind to grow stiff and cold. Now, you have a good night.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The delicious smelling chocolate curled into the cup from the large saucepan Willene expertly held. “So, Connor, you’ve been here nearly four weeks. Deadline time. Have you made a decision?”

  The days had passed faster than even Connor had imagined. Contrary to her expectations, she’d found tremendous satisfaction in her life at Oaklawn. As the time when she could leave drew closer and closer, she wasn’t certain what she really wanted. “Let me ask you something instead. What’s your view of Renata?”

  The cook filled her own cup. She put the pot to soak in the kitchen sink and took a chair at the table across from Connor. “It’s been a struggle every step of the way, but she’s changing. She was singing this morning when I went up to her room. She was singing, and she was dressed to go down to the horses. I think that little pony you found for her was the turning point. She loves that Erin with all her heart, and I never believed Renata would love another thing after her mother died.”

  Connor sipped her cocoa. Like everything Willene touched, it was wonderful. “I thought for certain as soon as my time was up I’d leave, but now I’m not so sure. Renata still … evades me, but there are times when I think I might reach her. At least she doesn’t hate me so intensely.”

  “If you leave her now, she might slip away again.” Willene shrugged her heavy shoulders. “It’s not your problem, and I know the child has been a cross to bear.”

  “That’s an understatement. She’s done everything but try to drive a wooden stake through my heart.” Connor laughed. It was true: Renata had tried every scheme in the book to force her to leave. Lucky for Connor, she’d seen the best of them from the Malibu mafia she’d taught at Pacific Heights.

  “Stay another month,” Willene said. “If Renata improves as she has this month, maybe it will be enough. You can leave with a clear conscience that you helped the child.”

  “I don’t know,” Connor answered honestly. If she left now, she’d leave debt-free. Clay had promised her that she wouldn’t have to pay his money back. She still had a few thousand dollars left. It would be the smartest thing to move on, especially with the way she reacted to Clay. The man set off every sexual alarm in her body, and to make matters worse, she’d begun to dream about him. But she had made contact with Renata, even though it was tentative.

  “By the by,” Willene said, “Jeff passed the comment to Sally that you had some relatives around these parts. He made it very mysterious and all, as if he knew some big secret.”

  “Hilla Lassfolk was my great-great-grandmother.”

  The expression that crossed Willene’s broad face was a mixture of emotions. There was shock, disbelief, and finally understanding.

  “Hilla Lassfolk.” Willene repeated the name. She took her glasses off and rubbed them on her apron. “Well, girl, no wonder you aren’t too forthcomin’ with facts about your people.”

  Connor grinned as she sipped the cocoa. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I put it at the back of my mind. When I took the job here, I was hoping to find out some of the past about my family.”

  “I might have fed you better if I’d known you were descended from Hilla Lassfolk.”

  Connor laughed. “If you’d fed me any better, I’d be in the Guiness Book of Records—most impressive weight gain.”

  “So you came down here to Mobile to look up the origins of your family.” Willene nodded. “Hilla is a well-known figure around these parts.”

  “I never thought I’d be one to show an interest in genealogy, but I have to say, I’m curious about my family. Especially after seeing the look on your face when I told you about my great-great-grandmother.”

  “As I said, Hilla is something of a romantic legend about these parts.” Willene brushed at the table cloth. “Folks around here know their roots. Where you come from determines who you are.”

  “That isn’t true,” Connor shook her head good-naturedly but with a small measure of defensiveness. “In California, no one ever talks about where they came from. Out there, everyone talks about who they know.”

  “That entire state should have a fence put around it and a quarantine sign hung up.” Willene snorted. “No values.”

  Connor suppressed her grin. She’d heard that sentiment, not so blatantly expressed, from Jeff and Old Henry. Even Sally had some idea that Californians might have horns growing at the hairline. Connor found it amusing but at times a bit tiresome.

  “What do you know about my great-great-grandmother?” Connor shifted back to the subject that interested her. It was apparent that even though her ancestor had lived “before the war,” she was still well remembered.

  Willene gave her a long look. “First, let me ask you what you know.”

  “Hilla Lassfolk came to this country when she was a child, back in the 1800s, about the mid-forties, I think. She and her parents and her four brothers emigrated from a little town in Sweden, and they came to timber the land.” Connor felt the first touch of uneasiness come over her. There was something in the way Willene watched her, as if she expected some sordid tidbit. Willene’s voice cut into her thoughts. She’d taken over the story.

  “That’s right,” Willene said. “The boys were hard workers. They cut for the Lassiter Timber Company, and when they finished a day’s work, they cut extra for themselves, so they could buy a family homestead.”

  “How do you know this?” Connor asked, amazed. It was as if Willene was privy to her family history.

  “Folks around here know a lot more than you think,” she said, dropping her gaze to examine her cocoa. “Want ano
ther cup? Maybe we could put a little of Mr. Clay’s special brandy in it.”

  “Sure,” Connor agreed. The mention of Clay’s name gave her a strange but pleasant sensation of tension. She’d been at Oaklawn nearly four weeks. The calendar page had flipped to October and she was pleased with the progress she’d made, especially with Danny. Each child had their own mount, and Danny was showing a flair for horsemanship. As Willene had noted, the purchase of a little Connemara mare for Renata had been a breakthrough. The child seemed to love the pony with a true devotion.

  Willene put another pan of milk on to heat and disappeared into the library. She returned with a crystal decanter and put it on the table. “If this story gets going good, we might have to give up on the cocoa and get down to serious business.” She looked Connor straight in the eye. “Mr. Clay wouldn’t mind a bit. He’s a generous man, you know.”

  “I do know that,” Connor said. Since the day in the pecan orchard when he’d held her to the letter of her contract, Clay Sumner had been generous beyond all expectations. He’d told her if she found some stock she wanted for herself, he’d advance her the money. He’d given her carte blanche to buy whatever she wanted for the children, “cost be damned.” Whenever he was at Oaklawn, he sought her out for long talks. Long looks, too. He had the most generous mouth, a full, sensual lower lip, and an upper one that quirked slightly. There were times when she found herself wanting to kiss him, to see if the passion she saw in his eyes was real, or just something she imagined.

  She looked up to see Willene staring at her.

  “Who did Hilla marry after she left Lucedale?” Willene asked.

  “My great-great-grandfather was a traveling salesman, I believe. A wild Irishman known for his humor and pranks.” Connor pushed Clay Sumner from her mind. She focused on the story at hand.

  “She was happy, then?”

  Connor smiled. It was as if they were talking about a mutual acquaintance, not someone who’d been dead nearly a hundred years. “From all accounts. They traveled, and I suppose that’s my family heritage. My mother used to tease us all, saying that Hilla had cursed the family with the wanderlust. My mother married my dad, even knowing he’d move from track to track for his entire life. She said she wanted nothing more than a white cottage with a picket fence and primrose bushes, and yet she settled for a car packed and loaded with all our belongings, a series of dirty horse tracks, and a man who continually grabbed at a dream.”

 

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