“The friend I mentioned before, on the plane? At the time we booked it, I think we were already breaking up though we hadn’t admitted it to each other.”
A small whoosh of air at that. Shift the talk away from Chicago, he told himself.
But she did it for him, asking, “Have you ever thought about moving from town back to your family’s ranch?”
“Briefly, when we first found out about Ken. But since then, Karen’s convinced me to stick with my job in Boulder. For now, at any rate. We’ll have to reassess the situation later, when Ken’s not so mobile.”
“You like your job.”
“Yeah, I do.” He laughed, recalling the initial reactions of friends and family after his return from Kosovo. “Though it’s a long skip and hop from what I had been doing.”
“In the Air Force?”
He turned his head toward her. “Karen told you about that?”
“A bit.”
Alec looked away. He loved his sister but wished she’d be a bit more restrained when it came to passing on information. Still, perhaps she’d saved him the task. He’d never really talked about the NATO thing and now wasn’t the time or place.
“You mentioned that they might lose the ranch?”
Conversation tonight wasn’t going to be lighthearted after all. “They had to take a mortgage out on the place when Ken fell ill. My parents had paid it off years ago, but there wasn’t a whole lot of cash lying about, if you know what I mean. Ken made some iffy business decisions, then was late with a few payments. The situation kinda snowballed before he and Karen could get a grip on it. The last two or three payments were missed completely. Unfortunately, they didn’t tell me about it until just about a month ago. After they received a letter advising them that the mortgage holder planned to sell unless they could pay the arrears—with interest—by the end of this month.” Alec downed the last of his wine. The urge to sip and enjoy now gone.
“By the end of May? But, that’s less than three weeks away.”
“I know. Short of their winning a lottery, it doesn’t look good.”
“Can’t they persuade the bank to arrange bridge financing or something? Maybe they could have an auction and sell off—”
“What? The house? Then what’s the point? Besides, they’ve tried all that, believe me. The holder will not be moved.”
“And the mortgage holder is…?”
“Jed Walker.” He didn’t have to wait long for a response.
“I can’t believe he’d be so mercenary.”
Alec clenched his teeth. Believe it, he thought. Obviously no bias there. No influence from the executor of your father’s will or your current lunch date. God. Get a grip, Malone. “What can I say?” He stood up and glanced back at the tent. Nick had gone inside, taking the lantern with him. “I see Nick’s hit the sack. Not a bad idea, perhaps. Considering we’ll likely be up early.”
But she seemed reluctant to leave, gazing mutely at the dark water of the lake. When she did stand, she stumbled on a stone and lost her balance. Alec’s arm shot out to stop her from tumbling. Once he got hold of her, he didn’t want to let go. The air around him spun with the delicate scent of her body. He felt her heat closing round him like a fleecy blanket. And he knew—from the way she’d kissed him back last night—that the attraction was decidedly two-way.
His hands slid up the soft fabric of her sweatshirt, cradling her slender neck and gently drawing her head up close. She didn’t pull back and when he found her lips—open and moist—excitement surged through him. He wanted to taste, then devour, as much of her as he could fit inside his mouth. Then he wanted to explore with his tongue the hidden crevices behind ears, at the base of her throat and the pulse points at her wrists. She pressed into him, her arms reaching up behind him. One hand forked through his hair and the other latched on to the collar of his shirt, holding him tightly against her.
It was all about sensation now. No time for thought much less second thoughts. When she began to move rhythmically into him, rubbing against his arousal, Alec ducked his head into her tousled hair and groaned. “Oh, Tess, Tess.” He feverishly began a checklist of where they could go. The bushes? Too scratchy and maybe snakes. The Bronco? Uphill, but…
He slowed down, realizing that she’d begun to pull away. Her hands fell from his neck and she whispered, “Nick.”
Then Alec heard, for the first time, the swish of the tent’s canvas flap and the wheeze of the kerosene lamp being extinguished. The kid had decided to poke his head out at the wrong time. Alec bit down on his lower lip. Damn. What rotten luck. He held on a moment longer, letting the pain of unfulfilled desire dissipate. Then dropped his arms.
“I guess…I guess we should go to bed,” she murmured. She gave a shaky laugh, just getting the irony of her suggestion. Seconds later, she vanished into the tent.
Alec sagged onto the boulder. The tremors sweeping through him were beginning to subside, but he stayed outside staring bleakly up at the night sky for a long time.
A CHILDHOOD GAME came to mind. She couldn’t recall its name. It had something to do with taking steps forward and then back. The goal was to reach the person giving instructions at the front first and win the game. Tess sneaked a look at Nick, slumped so low into a corner of the family room sofa she could hardly see him in the dim glow cast by the television.
She had a feeling she was losing the game big time. There had been some progress with Nick at the start, then rapid deceleration as the weekend progressed. By the time they’d returned to the Malone ranch that afternoon, she figured she was almost back at square one.
There was no one else to blame but herself. First, for letting her body take charge without any consultation with her common sense the instant Alec Malone let his own impulses run wild. It was embarrassing enough knowing that Nick had probably witnessed the kiss last night. The passion ignited by Alec’s touch had jolted her. How had the sight of it affected a thirteen-year-old who likely viewed any hint of sex between adults as disgusting? So, that was bad enough.
Worse still was her stress-induced tiff with Alec over coffee that morning. Her common sense was still running amok somewhere out in the desert for she’d foolishly mentioned the name most likely to arouse anger in Alec Malone. Jed Walker. Try again, she’d urged, to talk to him. Surely there was some iota of compassion in his lawyer’s heart. Not that she really believed it herself, but what else could she say?
“Walker’s got as much compassion as a rattlesnake honing in on a field mouse,” Alec had muttered.
Tess closed her eyes, still cringing at her gaffe. Talk about jumping onto a roller coaster. Words and phrases bounced back and forth, disconnected from any thought or foresight. Culminating in his most hurtful taunt, so reminiscent of Nick’s that she wondered if they’d exchanged bodies sometime in the night. What do you care anyway? So long as your comfortable life in Chicago isn’t ruffled?
And the very moment that Nick walked around the side of the tent she had blurted, “So this is what that…that kiss was all about? Some kind of weird seduction to get me to change my mind about leaving the kids here, in a foster home?”
She could still see the expression in Nick’s face. A blend of hurt and triumph. That he should have known all along how things were going to play out. Tess figured she’d taken at least six giant steps back.
Nick’s show finished and he clicked off the set, even though Tess was sitting in the chair opposite the sofa. Without a word or a backward glance, he headed for bed. Tess sat in the dark for a long time, wondering how she could possibly set things right. Or if it was simply too late.
IT TOOK A SECOND for Tess to realize the pounding was not just in her head, but at her door, too. It opened and Nick poked his head in. “Phone call. It’s that Mr. Walker.” He closed the door before Tess was fully awake.
Jed Walker. The person she blamed for yesterday’s argument with Alec. Right now, the last person she wanted to speak to. But she dragged herself from bed, eye
ing Molly’s empty but made one. Someone—Nick?—had been at work while she slept off her guilt hangover. She staggered along the hall to the kitchen, half aware of the television blaring from the family room beside it. No school today, she wondered? Or did Nick go back tomorrow? Tess picked up the receiver, thinking she’d make a lousy substitute for a parent anyway.
“Tess?” Walker barked at her hoarse hello.
She moistened her lips, gave it another try. “Yes. Good morning,” she said automatically, feeling there was really nothing good about it.
“I got the message you left Friday afternoon. About going through Richard and Gabriela’s personal things. I wondered if you could bring in the list you made up of the items you think could be sold with the estate?”
“Uh, sure.”
“You have a list, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” she lied.
“Great. I’m going to probate the will tomorrow and then I can get started on setting up the trust. I’ve a few ideas and would be willing to let you have some input, if you’re interested.”
God, she thought. Had she been in Boulder a mere week? Felt more like a month. The fuzziness in her head vanished. “Yes. Yes, I am!” she exclaimed.
“Of course,” he went on, “as sole executor I’m not legally bound to follow an instruction from you, but I understand as next of kin you ought to have some say.”
He sounded pleased with his magnanimity. Tess tried to ignore the prickle of annoyance. He’s not the one to blame for your stupid quarrel with Alec. She agreed to meet him and hung up.
Nick appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“No school today?” she asked.
“Yeah there is, but I didn’t want to leave you like that.”
“Like what?”
“You were like right out of it. I mean, even Molly’s gabbing didn’t wake you. So, I…uh thought I should stick around a bit. Make sure you were okay.”
Tess was stunned. In spite of his casual tone, she saw that he’d been genuinely concerned. “Well, thanks, Nick. Thanks a lot. I appreciate having the chance to sleep in. It’s been a while,” she said, laughing. Too late, she realized how he might interpret that. A reminder of what she’d given up to come to Boulder.
His face turned red and he started to walk away. “Nick,” she said, stopping him. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Sure,” he said and moved toward the kitchen door.
“Look, after I shower and grab a coffee, I’ll drop you off at school on my way to meet with Mr. Walker.”
He nodded and vanished through the doorway. Tess closed her eyes, thinking perhaps she’d just jinxed the whole day. But a shower and cup of hot coffee later, she felt ready to deal with anything. Until Nick mentioned on the drive into Boulder that Molly’s birthday was coming up. He seemed annoyed at her ignorance.
“I don’t know your birth dates,” Tess said. “It’s not something that comes up in normal conversation.”
“You’ve been here a whole week—”
“Exactly. How much can I learn in a week?”
Fortunately for her, he didn’t answer. Though the expression in his face suggested not much. When Tess dropped him off at school and watched him amble inside with little more than a gruff goodbye, she couldn’t help but feel that she was losing the battle to win over Nick. Yet why that mattered to her was a puzzle, considering she was most likely going to be an incidental part of his life once she returned to Chicago. She kept her eyes on his back as he slipped through the front door of his school. He looked so downtrodden and despairing. Tess blinked back tears. I don’t think I can go through with this. But what else can I do? Is Mavis right? Can I accommodate two kids into my lifestyle back home? The answer was of course she could. It just wouldn’t be the lifestyle she’d been accustomed to.
She shifted into drive, coasting out to the street. She’d been in Boulder a whole week and other than packing up personal items that belonged to her father and Gabriela, she’d done little else. There was only a week left of her vacation time and she still had to make a decision about the children. So what, she wondered, kept her in this constant state of vacillation? Drifting along from day to day with the hope that something—or someone—would compel her to make the right decision for everyone? Could that someone be Alec Malone? No, she thought, dismissing the idea at once. The man’s attractive and could even be charming, but definitely too overbearing.
Tess had to make a short detour because a work crew was repairing traffic lights on the street leading to Jed Walker’s office and, realizing she was passing the art gallery, impulsively pulled over to the curb. Kozinski had promised to get the painting to her as soon as it was ready. Why not check now, while she was here?
The gallery was empty of customers and Tess had to call out before Kozinski was aware that someone had come in. He was obviously startled to see her. Wringing his hands, he kept saying that he’d wished she’d called first.
“Jed told me I could take the painting anytime,” she said. It was a small lie, but wasn’t she going to get the painting, anyway? “Is it back?”
His eyes answered for him, darting to his left. There, propped against an empty shelving unit, was the painting on wood her father had done so many years ago. Tess walked slowly toward it, almost mesmerized by a surge of memory—a vivid picture of her father standing at his easel, brush in hand and murmuring, “This one’s for you, Tessie.”
She stared at the framed side, a re-creation of her childhood living room. The rich gold of an autumn sunset burnished the shabby interior of the room, gilding it with a warm ambience it had never really known. A small child, crouching on the sofa in front of a window, was looking out to the street. From another person’s perspective, Tess could see how the painting—a blend of light and shadow—would seem banal.
But she remembered sitting on that sofa, gazing wistfully out at a sidewalk teeming with children at play and neighbors chatting on porches. Remembered, too, the tension and strife within the house and how she often longed to be outside, away from the quarrelling.
The reverse side of the painting had been a still life that her father had impulsively painted one rainy afternoon after he’d finished the main portrait. Tess had an instant flash of playing with the items set out for the still life. Her father’s initial irritation soon gave way to amusement and before long, they were rolling fruits and vegetables along the floor in a mock bowling game. Until Hannah had interrupted, demanding to know what all the racket was about. Hannah, always on the outside when the three of them were together.
Tess turned away, overcome. She was half-aware of Tomas Kozinski wringing his hands and anxiously repeating that if she waited a day or two he could wrap it properly for her return trip to Chicago. “It’s okay,” she said, cutting him off. “I’ll take it now. I…uh…I can parcel it up properly when I go back to Chicago.”
“Will that be soon?”
She frowned, her thoughts still on the painting. “Hmm? Oh, probably.” When she picked it up, she noticed the brown paper backing over the framed pine. “There’s another painting under that paper,” she said.
“Oh, the cleaners covered it up. Best to protect it when it’s hanging, you know.” He bustled nervously around her as she headed for the door. It wasn’t until he held it open for her that she thought of the pieces Walker had taken from the studio.
“Have you had a chance to assess the canvases Jed Walker brought in?”
His brow wrinkled.
“The canvases in my father’s studio.”
“Oh, those,” he said, smiling.
“I gave them to Jed. Hasn’t he brought them in yet?”
“Perhaps he hasn’t had a chance yet. I’ll give him a call.”
As she left, he said, “Have a good trip back to Chicago,” sounding, she thought, as if she were leaving imminently.
She carefully placed the painting in the back of the Volvo and closed the hatch. When she arrived ten minutes later at Je
d Walker’s office, his secretary informed her that he’d been summoned away on urgent business. Would she please leave the list of items and he’d call her that evening. Annoyed, Tess handed her the list she’d scribbled down over coffee and left the building.
When she got home, she left the painting in the trunk of the Volvo, deciding to drive the car around to the studio where she would store it. She went inside to check for phone messages first. Molly’s school had called to inform her that Molly had been involved in a fight at recess and was very upset. She wanted to go home and could someone pick her up as soon as possible?
Tess grabbed her purse and keys and rushed back out to the car. It was almost eleven and she worried that Molly would think no one was coming for her. Fortunately, the highway into Boulder wasn’t busy and twenty minutes later, she pulled up in front of Molly’s school. Molly burst into tears the instant Tess walked into the school office, bawling that a classmate had called her an orphan and when she’d denied it, others had joined in chanting the word until Molly started swinging. Good for you, Tess had thought.
But the sight of Molly in such distress made Tess feel helpless. She thought she might burst into sobs herself, right there in the principal’s office. On the way out of the school parking lot, Tess suggested they head for McDonald’s for lunch. Molly’s pinched face broke into a great smile and Tess felt oddly pleased. I may be hopeless at providing comfort, but at least I can do lunch.
They shopped afterwards and didn’t arrive home until almost five. Molly helped unload the groceries and carry them into the kitchen. Tess didn’t notice anything amiss until Molly called from the rear of the house. Her voice sounded urgent. Tess stopped unpacking food and headed down the hall where Molly was standing, Squiggly in her hands, in front of the master bedroom. Her small mouth was shaped into a huge, silent Oh and her eyes were big with fright.
The bedroom curtains had been pulled off their track and hung in a forlorn heap on the floor. Closet doors were wide-open and their contents flung about. The plastic bags of clothing that they had packed up on Friday were untouched, but the chest of drawers had been pulled away from the wall. Tess looked with horror at Molly.
The Second Family Page 16