by Barb Han
The sexual chemistry pinging between them could almost drive her to distraction. And her stubborn heart tried to tell her that her feelings for him had grown. It was probably for the best that he wasn’t at the cabin. She’d driven her car to meet Ryder at the cabin early this morning, so she didn’t have to wait for him to get a ride. She needed to get home to check on her mother. There were other things she needed to investigate at home, too, like her father’s private study.
Chapter Seven
Faith slipped inside the back door at the ranch and took the rear staircase up to her room, thinking her life would’ve been far less complicated if she’d moved to the city after college instead of coming home to learn the family business and look after her mother—a mother who had her increasingly worried lately.
She went straight to her en suite bathroom and stripped off her clothes. Stepping into the shower, she felt the warm water sluicing over her sore body. She took her time washing off, giving herself permission not to think about her missing brother for a few minutes. Or Ryder, a little voice added.
She looked down at her growing stomach as she toweled off. Her pants no longer fit, and it wouldn’t be long before her belly would be too big to cover and she’d have no choice but to tell her parents. A clean oversize T-shirt and pajama pants hid her small bump. Not for long, little bean.
Thankfully, there hadn’t been any more spotting since earlier in the evening.
A quick mirror check, a little face powder and her scrapes and bruises were concealed fairly well. She’d left the door between her bedroom and bathroom cracked open and she cradled her stomach with one hand as she walked into her bedroom.
Her mother sat on the edge of her bed in the dark. Faith jumped and let out a little yelp.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you,” her mother said, sounding distant. That wasn’t a good sign.
Faith’s blood pressure hit triple time. Breathe.
“Everything okay, Mom?” she asked, dropping her hand to her side and praying that her mother hadn’t noticed. Faith needed to find Nicholas and put the next phase of her plan into action—a plan that was far more complicated now that Ryder knew the truth.
“You didn’t come home. I was worried,” Mom said, embracing her in a tight hug. Her hands were so cold.
“I was out with friends.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Although her heart would argue that she and Ryder had been so much more.
Mom’s shoulders deflated.
“Have you seen your father?” Her mother stared at the wall.
“Not today. Why?” Faith turned on the soft light on her nightstand and then moved closer to her mother, dropping down by her side.
Her eyes carried dark circles as she sat there wringing her hands together.
“He’s not home. Didn’t make it to supper, either,” she said, and she sounded on the verge of tears. With her mother so involved in her own situation Faith figured she was too distraught to notice any physical changes in her and was grateful.
Faith rubbed her mother’s back. “It’s okay. He’ll be home. He’s probably out with a business partner. You know, making another deal.”
“Or maybe he’s with that woman again,” her mother said, sounding a little hysterical.
Faith stopped herself from asking which one.
“I’m sure he’s just tied up with work, as usual.” Faith hated lying. “I’ll be dealing with the paperwork from his deals until the end of summer.”
Her mother just sat there, her gaze fixed on a spot on the opposite wall.
“Come on. Let’s get you ready for bed,” Faith said, urging her mother to her feet. She was probably off her medication again. Faith would get an anxiety pill and tuck her mother into bed.
Her mother mumbled a few words that Faith didn’t quite catch as she helped her into her pajamas.
“Stay right here, okay?” Faith asked, helping her to the massive four-poster bed she shared with Faith’s father. The bed looked so grand and so...empty. Sadness fell like a curtain as she thought about how lonely her mother’s life must be. And here, Faith was about to make it worse. She could only hope that her mother would be okay. Guilt assaulted her again at the thought of leaving her mother alone in a mentally abusive relationship.
The woman still looked distraught, and Faith wasn’t sure if she could trust her mother to stay put. In her heightened emotional state, the last thing she needed to do was wander the house by herself. Anything could happen. Faith had found her mother curled up in a ball in a corner of the dining room, shaking, with only a light gown on in the dead of winter once. Faith had just turned twelve. There were other times, too. Once her mother had taken too much medication and wandered into the backyard. She’d fallen into the pool and if Faith’s golden retriever, Sparks, hadn’t barked, her mother would’ve drowned. She’d been too out of it to realize she was about to die.
Her mother’s emotions had been overwrought lately, and she was a walking ball of nerves.
Shaking off the bad memories, Faith retrieved the bottle of little white pills from her mother’s medicine cabinet and a glass of water from the sink.
“Here you go. Take this and he’ll be home before you open your eyes,” Faith soothed. How many times had she gone through this routine with her mother in the past year? Things were escalating, and Faith could only pray her mother would take the step and get help someday. Guilt hit her again at the thought of leaving the woman behind.
“He’s coming home?” her mother asked, calmer after the medicine starting kicking in.
“That’s right. He’s on his way. All you have to do is close your eyes and when you open them again he’ll be right next to you,” Faith said. She sat with her mother until she fell asleep, thinking about how vibrant she’d been when Faith was young.
The thought of walking away, leaving her permanently, didn’t sit well with Faith, but she would have no choice. How much longer could she get away with no one noticing her bump? Or realizing that she hadn’t worn a pair of jeans in weeks even though it was cold outside? She’d barely managed to get through those first few months of feeling like she wanted to barf all the time without raising any red flags.
Luckily, her father worked outside most of the day and spent most of his evenings with “business partners.” He had a huge office in the barn. He’d said it was to be close to his men so he could keep an eye on his workers.
Inside the house, he maintained a private study, and that door was almost always locked.
Faith glanced down at her mother. Hollister McCabe’s love was toxic. Her eyes were closed and her breathing had changed to a steady rhythm. Faith tiptoed out of the room. She could’ve stomped and her mother wouldn’t know the difference. And that broke Faith’s heart.
Instead of going to her own room, she checked out front for her father’s Suburban. It was gone. Rather than head back upstairs, she hooked a right and walked to the back of the house, to her father’s study. She picked up the spare key that had been tucked inside the vase in the hall bath and unlocked the door.
If she’d thought, she would’ve brought her phone with her and turned on the flashlight app. As it was, she’d have to rely on the dim light from the hallway in case her father returned. The ranch was huge, and she wouldn’t be able to hear him pull in. The wood paneling made the room even darker. Doubt crept in.
This was crazy. She couldn’t see anything. She heard a noise in the hallway and her heart skipped a beat.
Her father wasn’t home, she reminded herself. Her mother was asleep. The hired workers at the McCabe ranch all slept in separate bunks in the barns. Women who worked inside shared adjoining rooms in the horse barn. There was a foreman and several hired hands who slept in the second barn. Her brothers were almost never home this early. There shouldn’t be anyone in the house but Faith and her
mother. Their interaction left Faith unsettled and that’s the reason she was jumpy.
Time was running out and she needed to make her move soon. All she needed was to find Nicholas. Then she could disappear.
She made sure to keep all the lights off in case someone came home. She had three brothers who would be quick to bust her if they found her in their dad’s private study.
Her father’s desk had a couple of stacks of paperwork on top. She fanned through the first stack, determined not to upset the documents. Most of those were bills and a few others were contracts marked with a Post-it note for his signature. There was nothing earth-shattering there. Although she had no idea what she was looking for. Even though she’d denied Ryder’s accusations that her father could somehow be behind Nicholas’s disappearance, he’d planted a seed in her mind that had taken root and she needed to know that her father wasn’t somehow involved.
The possibility that Celeste could be the female involved died quickly. Celeste had taken care of Nicholas on her own with little money for fifteen years. She wouldn’t use him to get back at Faith’s father.
A noise sounded in the hallway and Faith froze. She hadn’t heard her father’s Suburban. Was there any possibility that her mother could be walking around?
She stood for a quiet moment until she was sure the coast was clear. She touched her belly, thinking how she would never put her own child through any of this mess.
The built-in set of drawers on the right-hand side of his desk held tax documents and titles of ownership for various pieces of property and equipment. The large drawer on the left had a few boxes of keepsakes, one from her grandfather. The middle drawer was locked. Faith felt around for a key but didn’t find one. No, her father wouldn’t be careless enough to keep a key so close. Especially not if he has something inside that drawer that he doesn’t want people to find, a voice in the back of her mind said. She dismissed it as letting Ryder influence her too much.
She pulled out a hairpin and played around with the lock, listening for the snick that said she’d hit the right spot to release the mechanism. Living with three brothers had taught her to be resourceful, especially when it came to getting inside their rooms when she needed something. All three boys locked their doors, and part of her had wondered why all the secrecy. So many secrets.
The sound she was waiting for came and with it a jolt of pride for still being able to get the job done as needed. The temporary feeling was replaced with guilt. Was she stooping to her father’s level of distrust? Becoming just like him and the boys?
She shuddered at the thought.
Faith rejected the notion that she was anything like her father and the three McCabe brothers. She was like her half brother Nicholas, and she would go to any length to find him even if it meant violating her father’s sacred space.
Faith took in a breath and opened the drawer. On top was a legal document. She scanned the page to figure out what it was. A lawsuit? She used her finger to guide her way down the middle of the page looking for the complaint.
There it was in bold letters. He was being sued for paternity, but it wasn’t Celeste being named as the complainant. Faith didn’t even recognize this woman’s name, but apparently her father might have another son. The boy was three years old and the complaint was filed a year ago. Faith was certain that her father’s lawyer would get him out of this one just as sure as he’d gotten out of paying Nicholas’s mother.
A heavy feeling settled on Faith’s chest. Did her mother know about any of these children? She must.
The complainant was a waitress in a café in Louisiana, according to the paperwork. He traveled all over the South and Southwest. Did he leave a string of children and desperate mothers behind? One desperate enough to come after one of his children for revenge?
Faith didn’t want to acknowledge this side of her father, this smooth-talking jerk who used women. And yet the documents were staring her in the face, quashing those moments in her childhood when she’d looked up to him for being a smart businessman and a doting father.
She touched her stomach again as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Her child would never know this kind of pain. The hormones had her ready to cry at a TV commercial if it pulled the right heartstrings, and something about this whole scenario had her missing Ryder. There was something about his presence that made her feel wanted, safe.
Shuffling through the folders inside the drawer mostly made her sad. Sad that this family wasn’t enough for her father. Sad for the kids who would grow up without support, alone. Sad for the mothers who’d have to work extra hours. She wiped away the tears and refocused. Was there anything in here about Nicholas?
Rechecking the folders, she caught a piece of paper sticking out from in between two manila folders near the top of the small stack.
Her finger dragged across the name Nicholas Bowden. There it was in plain sight. A report about Nicholas. His whereabouts. His hangouts. There were photos, too.
Faith’s heart dropped and her pulse raced. Because there were pictures of the two of them together.
“Find what you’re looking for, Faith?” her father’s voice boomed from the doorway.
There was no point in trying to lie her way out of this one.
“How many are there, Father?” She picked up the small stack of files. He’d know full well what she was talking about. “Half a dozen? More?”
“Nothing in my private study is of concern to you,” her father said, flipping on the light.
“Everything about this family is just as much my business as it is yours.” She held the stack toward him. She tried to use sheer willpower to stop her hands from shaking, but it was no use. “Why don’t we wake up Mom and see if she shares your opinion?”
The fire in her father’s eyes nearly knocked her back a step.
“You leave your mother out of this or I’ll see to it that you never see her again,” he fired back. The anger in his voice sent an icy chill down her spine. He meant every word of that threat. Little did he know she was about to disappear on her own.
She’d known her father was dishonest and that he cheated on her mother, but she had no idea the extent of the damage. Part of her didn’t want to know, either. Had she put her head in the sand in order to avoid the humiliation?
Yes. Guilt nipped at her.
“Where’s Nicholas?” She stood her ground even though everything inside her was screaming to run, to get out of there or hide.
“Leave it alone, Faith.”
“I can’t. He’s innocent and he’s a good kid,” she kept pushing.
“He’s someone else’s bastard and he’ll never be a McCabe.” His angry words were like hot pokers searing her. The little balloon of hope that her father was a better man than this popped, leaving pieces of her heart scattered on the floor.
“Well, then maybe he’ll have a chance at a decent life if you have your goons let him go.” She threw the accusation out there again to see if it would stick. Her father hadn’t exactly denied knowing about Nicholas’s disappearance.
“I already told you to stay out of this. What happens to that boy doesn’t concern you,” he said again, which wasn’t a denial of his involvement.
“Is he hurt?” she was shouting now. She stomped across the room and got in her father’s face. “What did you do to him?”
“Me?” His brows knit in confusion. “I didn’t do anything to the boy, and I won’t tolerate being blackmailed, either.” Fiery darts shot from his glare.
“If you didn’t do it, then who?” she managed to say through her blinding anger. The word blackmail registered somewhere in the back of her mind.
“I want nothing to do with that boy,” he said bitterly. “And I don’t have the first idea who’s behind all this. I don’t care, either. But know this—I don’t give a hoot what they do to the
child.”
“There will be consequences to your actions,” she said as she stomped past him. He caught her by the arm.
“Like what? Are you threatening me, little girl?” he said as he squeezed.
“I’m not your little girl,” she said, trying to jerk free from his grasp and failing.
“You won’t be if you keep messing with that bastard,” he ground out. For a split second, she thought he was talking about Ryder. And then she remembered that her father had no problem calling his own son by the derogatory term.
“You’re hurting me.” She looked into her father’s eyes, searching for something. Compassion...love...regret. Anything from the man she used to look up to as a child, used to love. His steel eyes were cold. There was nothing soft or kind left of the man who’d bounced her on his knee.
“No bastard children will ever be recognized as a McCabe.” The words were like bullets being fired at her.
She jerked her arm free and pushed past her father. “Is that right? Well, know this. I’m going to find him and do whatever I can to help. And you better not get in my way.”
“Leave it alone,” he threatened, shouting after her. “Or you’re the one who’ll deal with consequences.”
Her father shouted curses and threats as she made her way back to her room, threw on some clothing, grabbed her purse and keys and then shot out the door.
Tears flooded her eyes as she slid behind the driver’s seat and buckled up. She had no doubt that he’d deliver on his threats if she didn’t walk away from Nicholas. And she’d never been more certain that he’d turn his back on her the second he found out about the baby she was carrying.
A few deep breaths calmed her enough to stop crying. One more gave her the boost she needed to start her car and drive away. She needed to get as far away from the ranch and her father as possible. Nicholas had been taken for ransom that her father had refused to pay. Fear gripped her. She couldn’t allow herself to think that she was too late to save her brother.