Ladd Haven

by Dianne Venetta

  Felicity didn’t like that she’d hurt him but it was unavoidable. She couldn’t date both of them, though they’d kidded about it numerous times. Eventually she had to choose. Moving her gaze from the shiny rear muscles of the Quarter Horse to Travis’ navy blue jeans and T-shirt, Felicity settled on the thought. She had chosen him.

  As though sensing her gaze was plastered to his back, he twisted his body around. Setting a hand on the back of his horse to keep steady, he asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

  Staring into his dark eyes, pools of affection held only for her, she thought, no. Disappointed was more like it. Unfortunately, it was a concept Travis didn’t seem able to comprehend. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “So you’re going to punish me instead?”

  “I’m not punishing you.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re not talking to me because you think I’m wrong about Troy.” His horse missed a step as the animal began its descent down a slope, causing Travis to turn, regain his balance until hitting level ground whereby he twisted back. “I’m not, Felicity. You don’t know my brother as well as I do. Troy needs a wakeup call. He needs to learn that he can’t keep running off half-cocked just because he’s mad.”

  Felicity leaned back as Blue gingerly made her way down, stepping over a rock to reach flatter ground. Resting hand and reins against her thigh, Felicity returned, “Justifiably so in this case, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe in this instance, but what about all the others? He gets drunk because he’s mad. He quits his job because he’s mad. The boy needs to learn about impulse control. I’d think you’d agree, considering how you feel about Casey these days.”

  Bringing Casey up felt like a slap in the face. Travis wasn’t a big fan of Casey either. He lumped her together with Troy in the “immature and unstable” category. They weren’t going to college. They were making a mess of their lives. Felicity believed differently. In her mind they were two young people trying to find their way. She also believed they loved each other and love could see them through anything.

  As the trail curved sharply to the right, Travis turned forward, angling clear of a jutting tree branch. Felicity could hear the river before she saw it. Knowing their special place was located just ahead, special feelings began to take on a new coloring. She was beginning to doubt when it came to her and Travis. All he seemed to care about was being right. Raising her voice as they neared the rushing river, she said, “I think Troy is learning about stability because of Casey. I think he’s made some mistakes but he’s owning up to them. He’s back, isn’t it?”

  “’Cause he quit another job,” Travis said, riding his horse down to a clearing by the water’s edge. Behind him, fast-moving water careened over massive boulders scattered along its path.

  Pulling her mare up beside him, Felicity leaned forward and stroked the meaty neck of her mare, finishing with a few solid pats. Blue raised her head and shook her mane. “He quit to be with Casey. What part about that don’t you understand? In one breath you act like he’s supposed to do what’s right by Casey and in the next you won’t give him the chance.”

  “Troy doesn’t know his head from his butt.”

  Felicity grimaced. It was as if Travis refused to see any good in his brother, any bright spots, potential... Something she wasn’t seeing a lot of it in him at the moment either. Sitting back on Blue, heedless to the dampness of her jeans, she replied dully, “Whatever.”

  Why were they riding again? This conversation certainly wasn’t getting her mind off anything.

  “Felicity.” Travis reached out for her, but she pulled out of reach, nearly causing him to topple from his horse. He scowled. “Why are you being like this?”

  Collecting leather reins firmly in hand, she said, “I could ask the same question of you, Travis.”

  “Listen, when I see Troy making progress I’ll be the first one to give him credit. But I don’t. All I see is a hot head.”

  The glimmer in his gaze irked her. Sitting astride his horse, both man and animal magnificent in their beauty and brawn, Travis appeared arrogant. He made no allowance for error, no adjustment for life’s pitfalls. “You act as though you’ve never made a mistake Travis. You’re not perfect, you know.”

  “Never said I was,” he replied, though it was clear he thought he was pretty darn close. “But take your father.”

  “What about my father?”

  “You thought he was worth a second chance and look what happened.”

  He wasn’t—is that what Travis was trying to say? Was he trying to rub her nose in it? Beside her, the powerful river seemed to flow right through her, escalating a surge of emotion. “Those are two totally different situations.”

  “Are they? I told you not to go see him because he hadn’t changed. My daddy said he came back from Nashville because of problems at work. Because he quit, same as Troy.”

  Working off Felicity’s energy, Blue shook her mane as though irritated, rearing several steps. “I can’t believe you’re linking the two together like that,” she said, pulling her mare under control. “Troy isn’t an abuser. He’s passionate. There’s a difference.”

  “Yes, and speaking of passion, look where it got your parents. They thought they knew what they were doing when they were young but they didn’t. Your daddy let his emotions get the best of him and hit her.”

  Felicity stared at him. “How do you excuse his behavior as an adult?”

  Travis almost smiled but seemed to hold himself in check. “He never learned the lesson when he was young. His parents let him get away with stuff and now look at him. It’s exactly my point about Troy. That’s why I’m right about him.”

  Anger and disbelief cascaded in her heart, swirling around rocks and boulders of resentment. That’s what this was about—Travis being right. Felicity tugged abruptly on the reins and squeezed her legs against Blue.

  “Hey—where are you going?”

  “Home.” Felicity urged Blue along the riverside terrain as quickly as she could, refusing to look back. She didn’t want to see Travis. Didn’t want to speak to him. If he couldn’t see the good in people, the potential, then maybe he wasn’t the guy for her.

  “Felicity!” he called out to her. “Don’t be like that!”

  “Like what?” she shouted back. “Someone with a different viewpoint than yours? Someone who believes enough in people to give them a second chance?”

  Travis caught up with her and pleaded, “C’mon, Felicity. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  Since when was it a bad thing to believe in people? Since when did it make her gullible and naïve?

  Or stupid. That’s how Travis was making her feel. Ignorant, as if she didn’t know people. Well, he was wrong. People had good inside them. Sometimes it was hidden but it was there. People could change. If only someone close would put a little faith in them, let them know they cared, it would allow the individual to reveal their sweeter side. Take her Uncle Ernie. He was crusty on the outside as week-old bread, but on the inside he was soft and kind. He’d never said a cross word to her, never raised his voice in anger. For years he’d been dead set against giving the property to her or her mother, but in the end he did. He changed his mind. He changed his heart and everything else changed right along with it.

  Timing her body’s movements with Blue as she trotted, Felicity ignored the pound of hooves close on her tail. Travis didn’t get it, but he didn’t want to get it. Troy could change. He’d changed his heart because of Casey and he could change his behavior, too. Felicity believed in him. Casey believed in him. Why didn’t Travis?

  In a fit of anger, she pulled Blue to a stop. Travis’ horse yanked up its head as it detoured to avoid running into her. “Maybe I chose the wrong brother,” she snapped. “Maybe Casey’s the smart one and I’m the loser.”

  Travis stood stunned, his mouth agape. His horse snorted. “Felicity, you don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t I?”

/>   Hurt thrashed in his dark gaze, underscored by the torrent of whitewater churning in the river. A set of waterfalls rose lay ahead, falls they used to frequent as youngsters. The animal beneath Travis side-stepped impatiently as he said, “You’re mad, is all. You’re lashing out.”

  “What I am is tired of you telling me what I think and feel all the time. For once in your life maybe you should put a cork in it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As they made the drive into the Foster homestead, lines of wood board fencing glimmered, enameled from a late afternoon sun. This was Cal’s family home, hills and mountains that stirred fond memories. Born and raised here, he and his brothers spent many a day riding this land, galloping far and wide, entertaining girls from school with elaborate picnics supplied by their housekeeper Thelma, evading trouble when one of them shot his mouth off one too many times. Casting his glance to the distant ridge, rounded mounds of green that were the Appalachians, he recalled the first time he’d declared his love for a girl. Melanie Lynn Barker. Warm memories cooled as the house came into view. Cal tensed. This wasn’t a pleasure visit. More like a showdown.

  When he’d called ahead, his brother Beau informed him that Jack was in the house. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t say what decisions had been made. The two brothers kept it short and sweet. Neither Beau nor Cal wanted to admit their brother was a loser, but they wouldn’t defend him. Only their mother was prepared to shelter a man gone wrong.

  “That’s his car.” Cal pointed to the black truck parked in front of the house.

  Nick nodded that he’d heard, circled around the drive. Malcolm looked to him and said, “We keep this to a minimum. No raised voices, no fists. We say our piece and move on.”

  Turning to face his partner, Nick erupted into a chuckle. “Are you worried I’m going to take him out back and whoop him?”

  Cal noted the mocking tone with a measure of relief. Nick was kidding. He was in control. Last thing they needed was an ugly confrontation. Cal might not agree with his mother’s position with regard to Jack, but she was still his mother. Upsetting her was not on his agenda.

  “I want to be clear on our goal,” Malcolm said. “We’re here to inform him of our intentions with regard to Troy Parker’s defense and Delaney’s subsequent charges, should he prove resistant.”

  Nick flashed a sardonic smile. “I guarantee he’ll prove resistant.”

  Cal agreed.

  “That may be,” Malcolm returned evenly, “but we have too much riding on this for you to jeopardize it with your personal feelings.”

  Nick tossed the truck gear into park. “You know he deserves a square one across the jaw.”

  “I don’t disagree. I’m only clarifying that this is not the time or place. Are we clear?”

  Cal marveled at the way Malcolm handled Nick, as though he were speaking to a child and not the head of an international hotel chain.

  Nick laughed. “Oh, we’re clear all right. So long as you know Jack Foster is going to get what’s coming to him.”

  “I do,” Malcolm replied, a quiet glance over his shoulder.

  Cal gave a double-take. Was Malcolm concerned with his feelings because it was his brother they were discussing? “Don’t hold back on account of me,” he interjected. “Jack’s responsible for his actions and should pay the consequences, whatever those might be.”

  Nick cut the engine. “I appreciate that, Cal.”

  For a brief moment, the three men sat silent. Each understood the stakes were high, each harbored a different reason to see the meeting through to a productive end. Nick’s motivation was personal, Malcolm’s straddled the personal and professional. Cal’s was a jumbled mess of the two. Jack was family. Nick was his boss. Troy was the father of his wife’s grandbaby. Annie and Casey and Troy were family. If Troy went to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, it would ruin the life of a child before she ever entered the world. Cal knew something about ruining a child’s life. He’d done of good job of ruining his own daughter’s life. At least Emily was speaking to him these days. She didn’t attend his wedding to Annie, but at least she’d opened the door to a new relationship and for that he was grateful. His ex-wife had made it happen. Now that he was one year sober, Caroline was beginning to realize he was serious about starting over, making things right. His ex-wife had gone so far as to indicate she’d be open to Emily spending summers with Cal and his new family in Tennessee. They had the first visit scheduled. She’d be arriving in two months. Two months.

  Inhaling the sight of his home, he suppressed a swell of nerves, a myriad of memories, and grabbed the door handle. He was about to make things right in a different way. Jack lied about Troy’s involvement with Delaney, claiming Troy pulled a gun on him. Jack claimed he was the defender and not the aggressor, which Cal knew was a lie. One look at Delaney that night told the story. She didn’t take crap from anyone. To see her shaken meant she’d walked to the brink. Jack was the liar here, and Cal didn’t take kindly to liars, blood relative or not. “Let’s go,” Cal said, and pushed out of the truck before any more thoughts could slow him down. It was time for action.

  Leading the way into the house, Cal glanced about. Heavy wood beams dominated the interior, an enormous antler chandelier hung from the ceiling above. Wood floors and leather furniture were lit by the subtle glow of lamplight, lending the room a country elegance. Quiet, empty, everything was in its place, appearing picture-perfect, much like his mother’s life. Settling on several photographs adorning the mantle, Cal understood what was at stake.

  Momma was defending Jack for more reasons than protecting one of her own. She was preserving her pride.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Malcolm said.

  “Thanks,” Cal answered the nicety, distracted by the sight of movement in the kitchen. Beyond the living room, someone passed by the doorway. If instinct served him, it had been Jack. Cal headed for him. Nick and Malcolm wordlessly followed.

  Cal rounded the corner of the spacious kitchen as Jack switched on a sink faucet. Pulling an arched nozzle, he rinsed a plate, setting it aside on a kitchen towel. The faucet hose retracted with a zip, he shut the water off and turned—and froze. Alarm dashed the calm in his dark gaze but he recovered quickly. “Hello, brother.” Jack summoned a smile. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  “We’d like to have a little chat with you,” Nick replied.

  Jack’s gaze sprang to Nick. His smile grew while his eyes remained suitably wary. “Come to apologize for your wife’s tawdry behavior?” He snickered. “Inviting another man to her stables late at night isn’t conduct becoming of a lady.”

  Nick stiffened. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?”

  “Delaney seems to think so.”

  Circling the kitchen island, Nick stopped in front of a massive double-door refrigerator, stainless steel gleaming in the overhead lighting. As he faced off with Jack, Cal instantly thought the cookware hanging from a rack above them could act as makeshift weaponry. One whack from a heavy pan could knock a man cold.

  Cal stepped forward. “This isn’t a game, Jack.”

  “Who said anything about games?”

  Despite Jack’s jovial expression, neither Nick nor Malcolm appeared amused. Quite the opposite. “We’re challenging your charges against Troy,” Cal informed him. “They won’t hold up in a court of law.”

  Nick moved closer to Jack, Malcolm shadowing his movements. Cal noted Nick was within striking range, escalating the adrenaline pump through his system.

  But Jack seemed unfazed, despite the fact the imposing Nick Harris now stood feet from him. “I think they will, brother. I have the injuries to prove it. Troy and Delaney have nothing.”

  “Wrong.” Nick stepped forward. “They have me.”

  Jack’s bravado cracked a hair, clearly aware the six-foot-four Mr. Harris could inflict severe injury. “Would you like to add some assault charges of your own?” Jack smirked but Cal detected a hint of fear.<
br />
  “Yes, I would.” Nick leaned down, bringing his face to within inches of Jack’s. “Very much so,” he added under his breath. “But I won’t give you the satisfaction of witnesses.”

  “Big man afraid?” Jack taunted.

  Cal was amazed by his brother’s cool, apparently confident Nick wouldn’t lay a hand on him. It was a feeling Cal couldn’t share. Perhaps Jack had been drinking.

  “Smart. Big man is smart,” Nick replied, “and putting you on notice. Drop the charges against Troy or Delaney charges you with attempted rape, compounded by aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.”

  “I never touched her.”

  “I have two people who say otherwise.”

  “You’re going to have a hard time proving it in court. Unlike me. I have photos to document my injuries.”

  “Injuries that are going to look pleasant compared to what I have in store for you.”

  “I think I’ve heard enough.”

  Cal whirled at the sound of his mother’s voice. Four men stood motionless, staring at the petite Victoria Foster. Across the kitchen she linked arms across her chest, the shimmery cream of her blouse oddly at home in the commercial grade kitchen. Hair swept into a French twist, her neck and ears adorned with diamonds, she glared at Nick and Malcolm with a severe expression.

  “Cal brought a couple of thugs for the purpose of intimidation,” Jack piped up. Shoving a shoulder toward Nick, he crossed the kitchen and took up residence next to his mother. “Apparently they don’t understand that’s a crime here in Tennessee.”