“Actually, I’m not trying to intrude on your personal time. Well, not exactly. I was going to take Chloe. But I wondered if you would like to come into town and keep me company over dinner. Then, while I have a quick business meeting, you can browse through the stores. Most of them are open until eight or nine tonight. I’ll catch up to you before it’s time to pick up Nissa.”
Chloe hesitated a heartbeat too long, and Damian figured he’d made a mistake in asking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I’m requiring you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Snapping out of her silence, Chloe said, “Actually, it sounds like a good plan. I would love to see more of Galena.”
Damian noted how Nissa had pulled into herself, as if no one else were around. He hoped he hadn’t done the wrong thing and set the girl off again. He also hoped his daughter didn’t get the wrong idea about his asking Chloe to come to town with them. He wanted to get into the tutor’s psyche—figure her out—nothing more personal than that.
Thinking he would find a moment to talk to his daughter alone and reassure her, Damian moved away, saying, “Break time’s over.”
“For all of us,” Chloe said, turning her attention to Nissa.
And yet, Damian would bet she was aware of his every move as he headed back toward the barn.
Just as he was aware of her….
WHAT HAD GOTTEN into Damian to ask me to dinner? I wondered. Not wanting to get personally involved with anyone here—well, other than Nissa—I’d hesitated until I’d realized it was an opportunity to get more information out of my employer. If he would give it, that was.
Still, I couldn’t help but look forward to a trip away from the horse farm. Not that I didn’t like the place. The house was fascinating in its tawdry splendor, and the setting was magnificent. It was simply that I was a city girl, used to stepping out of my apartment and having myriad shops and forms of entertainment at my disposal, whereas here there were only horses.
My excitement had nothing to do with the fact that I’d be spending time alone with Damian.
Or so I tried to convince myself as I waited for Nissa to saddle Wild Cherry and lead her outside. She’d raced ahead of me into the barn. Since there was no adult to ride out with her, she was simply going to exercise her horse in one of the pastures, and I was going to watch.
In the meantime, I had the opportunity to mull over the bits I’d learned so far and to figure out a plan of attack for that evening.
I slipped my hand in my pocket and pulled out the hair clip. Holding it, looking at it, made me feel closer to my missing friend.
I closed my eyes and searched for Dawn in my mind. Her image was hazy, as if encased in fog. Just like the horse. How odd that the gray had led me straight to an object that belonged to my friend…assuming a real horse existed. At least I wasn’t going crazy. Nissa had seen a gray, as well, though she believed the horse to be the ghost of Centaur, wandering through the mists searching for justice.
Too much for me to take in.
“I hear you’re not riding.”
Startled out of my thoughts, I nearly dropped the hair clip when I realized Clifford had come up on me without my being aware of him. “No, not today.”
The groom stood a yard away from me, his narrow gaze dipping to my hand. Quickly I pocketed the hair clip, but not, I was certain, before he got a good look at it. If he recognized it as belonging to Dawn, however, he didn’t say so.
“Was the mare not right for you, miss?”
“Sweet Innocent was wonderful. It’s me. I tripped this morning, bumped my head.”
“You’re hurt?”
“No, really. I’m simply being overly cautious.”
Clifford nodded. “Good thing. You get hurt around here and that’s it for you.”
Wondering what he meant by that, I asked, “Someone got hurt?”
“My brother used to work here, too,” he told me. “Last year he had an accident. Messed up his leg. Don’t work here no more.”
“You mean he can’t work? He’s disabled?”
“He got a limp, but that ain’t nothin’. Mr. Damian don’t want him around no more. Hank can’t support his family on disability. A man gives his all and when something happens—” Suddenly Clifford caught himself and made what looked like a concerted effort to calm down. “That’s no nevermind of yours, though, miss.”
“I’m sorry there’s such trouble in your family.” And that it troubled Clifford so deeply, making it sound as if he hated Damian.
But Clifford wasn’t listening anymore. He was practically running away from me. Sensing someone behind me, I turned to see Theo Bosch standing there with his hands at his hips and wearing a disgusted expression.
“Sorry, miss,” the barn manager said. “Clifford sometimes goes off at the mouth.”
I shrugged. “I can only imagine how concerned he is about his brother.”
“If he’s so concerned, he should’ve done something about Hank’s drinking problem before it got him into trouble.”
“Oh.”
“Now Clifford’s lips are a little too loose sometimes. If that’s all it is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Lots of stuff going wrong here, is all. It gets a man to wondering.” He shook his head and, before I could comment, said, “There’s Miss Nissa now.”
I turned and waved, but Nissa’s return wave before she mounted Wild Cherry was halfhearted at best. She’d been acting odd since this morning. No doubt she was feeling constrained having to keep to the pastures.
As I watched her work out her mare for the next hour, my mind kept drifting to the things I had learned, starting with the fact that Dawn’s goodbye note was dated the day after she’d supposedly left and that I’d found her hair clip in an area she’d avoided like the plague, an area where a horse had fallen to his death…a horse that was—if one believed in ghosts—haunting the bluffs.
While Priscilla supposedly had left due to divorce, Nissa was convinced her mother was dead, and Theo had indicated Priscilla had simply disappeared, never to be seen again.
Mrs. Avery tried to keep me from learning anything about the family, plus she had subtly threatened me.
Damian was desperate to keep an ailing horse farm going, while Alex seemed desperate to get away from the business.
Bad luck had plagued the farm into near bankruptcy. And now Theo was suggesting Clifford might have had a hand in the misfortunes because of his brother.
Not a pretty picture.
Could any of this have something to do with Dawn’s disappearance?
Chapter Eight
“You don’t seem too excited about the party,” I said. “Don’t you want to go?”
Nissa shrugged.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“You already helped enough,” she said, sounding put out.
“Young lady,” Damian growled, “that’s no way to talk to Chloe.”
Ensconced in the front passenger seat of the black sedan—of course, Damian would drive a conservative car, I thought—Nissa sank into silence. And I finally figured out what was bothering her. “You” in the context of Damian and me, even if that wasn’t true. He was merely being friendly inviting me to town and I was merely trying to take advantage of him. But in a thirteen-year-old’s mind, I might represent a threat—a potential replacement for her mother.
I wondered if Mrs. Avery had anything to do with that. The housekeeper had stood on the front porch scowling after us. I’d felt very self-conscious. Theo and Clifford had been outside, as well. It seemed as if everyone on the property had been aware of us leaving together.
I only wished I could talk straight with Nissa and tell her that I wasn’t in the running for a substitute of any kind in her personal life. But that, of course, was impossible.
“I hope you have a really good time tonight,” I said. Nissa looked like a typical teen, in a ruffled miniskirt, embroidered jean jacket and boots. “You lo
ok so great, I’ll bet you turn heads.”
Damian said, “There are going to be boys at this party?”
“Da-a-ad!”
“And chaperones,” I added.
Nissa had been complaining about her and her friends being treated like babies earlier.
Damian muttered something under his breath. All I got were the words “too fast.” I smothered a smile. He was just being a normal, doting father.
Nissa should consider herself lucky.
Just after hitting town, we took a side road and climbed to a high spot dotted with old Victorian mansions on large lots. Damian stopped the car in front of one that I could only describe as steamboat Gothic in design, the ornate architectural style prevalent in the heyday of river travel. I’d read all about the Galena area before leaving Chicago.
Damian turned off the engine, undid his seat belt and started to open his door.
“Dad, you can’t come with me!” Nissa protested. “They’ll think I’m a baby.”
Damian hardly missed a beat before saying, “I wouldn’t dream of coming with you. But I thought I could open the door for you since you’re a young lady now.” He glanced back at me. “And perhaps you would like to sit up front?”
In the end Damian opened both our doors, and Nissa and I ended up outside the car together.
“Don’t forget your present,” I said, reaching in and getting it for her. Then I lowered my voice. “You really do look spectacular.”
Nissa couldn’t help herself. She grinned at me and gave me a quick hug before grabbing the present and running for the stairs.
“They really do grow up too fast,” I murmured, sliding into the passenger seat.
Damian sank into a thoughtful silence as we descended the hill and ended up on Main Street.
Even though it was early evening, families of tourists swarmed the sidewalks, going in and out of stores, eating ice cream and taffy and fudge. Everywhere kids were accompanied by parents. Those kids didn’t even have a clue as to how lucky they were.
“I didn’t think to ask you what kind of food you liked,” Damian said.
“No real preferences,” I said, bringing my thoughts back to him and the evening ahead. “We have just about anything you could ask for in Chicago, so I eat everything.”
We settled on a charming little Italian place, which Damian claimed was a bit quieter than some of the others along Main Street. He parked the car in a lot near the Galena River a block behind the restaurant.
“I’m going to leave the car in the lot all evening,” he said as we walked to the restaurant. “I’ll come back for it after my appointment and then pick you up. We’ll figure out a place on Main Street.”
“I can just meet you back here.”
“You’re sure? What if you beat me here? I don’t have an extra set of keys on me.”
“Then I’ll wait for you. I’m a big-city girl, remember. I can handle it.”
“I suppose it’s safe enough.”
That settled, we fell into a comfortable silence. But when we arrived at the restaurant, Damian guided me inside, his hand on my back. His light touch made me a little shaky. I took a deep breath and told myself he was simply being polite. Even so, I had to keep reminding myself that we weren’t on a date—that he was my employer, a possible source of information about Dawn—especially when he helped me with my chair and leaned in so I could feel his warm breath stir the hair at my neck.
As he rounded the table to his seat, I took a quick look around—anywhere but at Damian—until I could compose myself. I certainly didn’t want him to know he affected me. The interior of the restaurant was dark with sconces providing soft light at the walls, candles doing the same at each white-clothed, elegantly laid-out table. The romantic atmosphere played into that imagined-date thing.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the waitress asked, handing me a menu.
I looked at Damian.
“Wine?” he asked, and when I nodded, he told the waitress, “Two glasses of pinot grigio.”
Indeed, it was quieter at this restaurant since customers were all adults. When I opened the menu, I knew why. Most people couldn’t afford to feed a whole family at those prices. And Damian was having problems with money. So why had he brought me here?
Service was quick and helped me get my mind off the magnetic man across from me for a few moments. The waitress brought our glasses of wine and took our food orders.
Then Damian picked up his glass and toasted, “To Nissa’s getting back to a normal life.”
Warmed that his toast was to his child’s welfare, I clinked glasses with him. “To Nissa.”
Then Damian sat back in his chair, his gaze intent on me. “So what made you want to be a teacher?”
“Following in my mother’s footsteps, I guess.”
“She must be very proud of you.”
“I hope she would be if she were here.” No doubt my sadness showed; I suspected I would never get used to her being gone. “She died nearly a decade ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
Damian placed a hand over mine in a gesture that was meant to be comforting, I was sure. Unease stirred in me at his touch instead, so I subtly removed my hand from under his by rearranging my shoulder bag near my feet. I wished I could still my racing pulse so easily.
“Your mother died when you were so young. I understand now why you have such a bond with my daughter.”
“So Nissa’s mother really is dead?”
Damian scowled. “Is she still telling people that fantasy? I simply meant Nissa’s not having her mother in her life. Priscilla is very much alive.”
“She is?” Could I believe him? Theo seemed to agree with Nissa. “Your daughter is convinced that her mother’s gone for good.”
“Simply because Priscilla hasn’t been around.”
“Damian, I know there’s a certain awkwardness involved in a divorce…” My pulse started racing as I pushed the issue, both because I wanted Nissa to be happy and because I wanted to see what Damian would say about this proposal. “If that’s the problem…I could help you work it out by taking Nissa to see her mother.”
“No! There’s nothing to be worked out. Priscilla may care about Nissa in her own way but evidently not enough to fight for her.”
An answer that didn’t sit well with me. “I was looking for a noncombative solution.” When I got no response on that one, I added, “I don’t understand why any woman wouldn’t want to see her own daughter.” Just as I hadn’t understood why my father hadn’t wanted to see me.
“It’s best this way,” Damian said coolly.
I shouldn’t have been shocked at his attitude, but I was. Unless I was mistaken, he wanted it this way. “Keeping a child from a parent isn’t right.”
“You don’t know the circumstances.”
“Nothing justifies it.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree, then.”
I wanted to say more, to tell him how important it was for a girl that age to have both her parents, at least in some fashion, but what good would it do? My argument would only get Damian’s back up and then what? He certainly wouldn’t be receptive to me or any questions I might have.
And what if he’d lied about Priscilla being alive? a little voice whispered in my head.
I swallowed hard and fought not to think the worst. “You know best,” I said, as if I’d conceded the point. “Maybe you should have a talk with Nissa about Priscilla, though, and try to convince the girl that her mother is alive.”
“You think I haven’t tried? Nissa is still a kid who believes in a world stocked with fairy-tale people. She has a very vivid imagination.”
“Like her seeing the ghost horse?”
Damian glowered at me when he said, “You talked to her about that?”
“She talked to me. I simply listened. But I found it interesting that we’ve both seen this gray horse on the property, but you won’t believe it.”
“Twice I
’ve been out looking for that damn horse after Nissa told me about it. You know what I’ve found? Nothing. Not even hoofprints in the earth.”
I hadn’t been able to find any physical trace of the horse, either, but I also knew what I had seen not once but twice. “Well, we’re both having the same delusion, then.”
Damian looked as if he had a headache. One named Chloe. I waited for him to chastise me again, but he’d closed up. Why would talking about the gray horse cause such a reaction from him? Centaur. That had to be it. He was connecting the dead horse with the one Nissa and I had seen. The girl insisted the gray was Centaur. Rather, his spirit.
Maybe we had seen a ghost horse….
The thought made me shiver.
Thankfully the waitress arrived with our food, breaking the tension. For a few minutes we ate in silence—Damian probably because he was angry with me, me because I was trying to figure out how to get information from the man without seeming too obvious.
“Nissa seems to be right on top of things,” I began, hoping to distract him with a reason for parental pride. “Dawn did quite a good job with her. I wouldn’t mind getting a look at her lesson plans. I was wondering if she left them behind.”
“Mrs. Avery didn’t find anything in her room—your room now. I suppose Dawn might have left school-related things in the library. That’s where she worked with Nissa. Feel free to have a look.”
Great. An excuse to be in the library and get at the computer without risking life and limb, and I thought I’d had no reason to do so again.
“Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow,” I said agreeably, paused, then said, “You know, Nissa really misses Dawn.”
From the way he said, “I’m sure she does,” I could tell that Damian wasn’t a Dawn fan.
So what should I make of that? I wondered. As much as I loved Dawn and knew what a good person she was, she was also emotionally needy and sometimes put people off while trying to get their approval. Remembering she’d intimated the Graylord brothers were courting her, I wondered if she hadn’t tried acting on that.
Undoubtedly, Damian would have been irritated if she’d made some kind of an advance toward him. Or… again I wondered about Alex. If he’d done more than flirt with Dawn, that might have pushed Damian’s hot button.
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