by Sandra Brown
Chase said, "We've got a crew standing by, and every man in it likes hard work." Sage was proud of him. He was showing his interest without groveling.
"Glad to hear that," Hardtack said. "I like knowing where I can find expert drillers." He slapped his thighs. "I think this visit has been well worthwhile for everybody, hasn't it?" Looking toward Sage, he said, "I'll have my project supervisor for Shadow Hills contact you. You'll be working directly with him from here on."
He was halfway out of his chair when she asked, "When can we expect the deposit?"
He dropped back down and peered up at her through his eyebrows. Chase and Lucky looked as though lightning had just struck them. They gaped at her, their expressions a mix of incredulity and anger.
"Deposit?"
"That clause is on page three of the contract, Mr. Hardtack. We require a ten thousand dollar deposit, payable immediately upon retention." Her heart was making a racket against her ribs, but she didn't flinch from Hardtack's intimidating stare.
"I'll send you a check by messenger tomorrow. Will that do, Ms. Tyler?"
"Splendidly."
Her brothers slumped with visible relief. Sage, trying to maintain a cool, professional demeanor, glanced at them. Chase gave her a subtle thumbs-up signal. Lucky winked.
"Thank you for taking such a personal interest in this, Mr. Hardtack," she said with a big smile. "Working together will be—"
"Before we shake on it," he said, interrupting her and ignoring her extended hand, "there's one thing I want to know."
Her heady, jubilant flight had been short-lived. Her ego-boosting success stalled, then went into a spiraling nosedive. She lost oxygen on the descent. She awaited the inevitable crash.
"The drawings you left with me had distinctive traits I believe I recognize," Hardtack said. "Was the draftsman Harlan Boyd?"
For a moment her ears roared. She was certain that, had she been standing up, her knees would have buckled. She might have fainted.
The realization of all her aspirations came down to one simple question. Success or failure hinged on her answer. Equivocating would mean an enormous contract with one of the most influential men in the state. It would mean the end to Tyler Drilling's years-long financial struggle and virtually guarantee future prosperity for her family and their employees.
Her ingenuity would get partial credit for bringing it about. She would have won the admiration and confidence of her brothers, proved herself to be a knowledgeable and capable businesswoman, not just their kid sister.
She was a master at avoiding the truth. She didn't lie, exactly, she merely skirted the truth when it wasn't convenient. Hardtack had asked her a pointblank question that required either a yes or no answer. This was one question she couldn't dodge. Somewhat to her surprise, she found she didn't want to.
Even if Lucky and Chase hadn't been looking at her strangely, wondering why the cat had suddenly got her tongue, surely ready to correct her if she told a fib, she confronted Grayson Hardtack, prepared to tell the truth.
Gazing up at her from beneath his shelf of heavy brows, he was an intimidating presence, but she faced him squarely and opened her mouth to speak.
"Yes, I did the drawings. You knew that before you asked her."
Heads turned in the direction of the open doorway. Harlan was standing on the threshold, rain water dripping off the brim of his hat. He was wearing a bright yellow slicker, but his boots and his jeans from the knees down were wet and muddy.
Lucky and Chase seemed baffled, as though they had missed the first two acts of a mystery play and were getting in on the denouement.
Sage recoiled from Harlan's expression. It matched the one he'd assumed when he first saw Hardtack's name on the client list she had compiled. She wanted to go to him with a sound explanation for why she had betrayed his wishes, but his belligerent face and stance kept her rooted where she was.
It was impossible to gauge what Hardtack was thinking.
The woman's reaction, however, was swift and baldly honest. She shot up from her chair. Her gloves and expensive handbag slid from her lap and fell unheeded to the floor. One pale hand, decorated by Tiffany's, found its way to her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly.
"Harlan." His name was expelled on a faint breath. Then she repeated it with more stamina. Finally she cried it joyfully. "Harlan, darling!" She rushed across the room, throwing herself against him, regardless of what his wet slicker was doing to her fine, designer clothing.
He fell back a step to regain his balance and awkwardly placed his arm around her. "Hello, Mother."
* * *
"The bottom line is, Harlan is loaded with a capital L."
The entire Tyler clan was gathered in the kitchen, as if tom-toms had notified all members of the family that there was a crisis afoot.
Sage, chopping onions for the pot of chili simmering on the stove, kept her back to them. Since Lucky was the best storyteller, he held the others in thrall.
"We're talking rich. Learjet rich. Limousine-and-driver rich. College-grants and museum-loans and getting - hospital - wings - named - after - you rich." He shook his head in disbelief. "To look at him, you never would guess, would you?"
"I'm confused," Laurie said. "Does the wealth belong to Harlan or Mr. Hardtack?"
"Both. See, Harlan's father Daniel Boyd and Hardtack were business partners. They made millions in commercial real estate and went from there. Daniel died of a heart attack like that," Lucky said, snapping his fingers. "Hardtack bought his interests from the widow, Marian. About a year later, he married her."
"How do you know all this?" Marcie wanted to know. She switched Jamie to her other shoulder. Chase, seeing that she was getting tired, took his son onto his own shoulder.
"It all came out during the shouting match," he said. "At first we weren't able to keep up. Gradually, the more they said, the more we were able to piece together."
Sage raked the chopped onions off the cutting board into the chili pot. With her sleeve, she blotted tears from her eyes and wiped her runny nose. The onions gave her a good excuse to cry.
She had felt so smart, so smug. She thought she had pulled together a big deal, a grand-daddy of a deal, a Mount Everest of a deal. Instead, all she had really done was alert Hardtack to Harlan's whereabouts.
That was the only reason he'd flown his private jet to Milton Point and rented a limo for the day. He hadn't come to negotiate a deal with insignificant Sage Tyler, but to track down his wayward stepson.
"I take it that Harlan didn't cotton to the idea of Hardtack marrying his mother," Pat said, rolling a matchstick to the other side of his mouth.
"Hardly," Lucky replied. "Apparently Harlan and his daddy were very close. When he came home from school—he was at Saint Edward's in San Antonio at the time—and they told him that their marriage was a done deal—"
"A fait accompli," Marcie said.
"A what?"
"A done deal," Devon told her husband impatiently. "Get on with the story."
"Harlan accused them of carrying on behind his daddy's back before Daniel died. He made the same accusation today. That's when Mrs. Hardtack collapsed into a chair and started bawling something terrible. She kept saying, 'You're wrong, Harlan. You're wrong. I loved your father. How could you ever think I was unfaithful to him?'"
Laurie was automatically sympathetic. "I think Harlan was being too hard on her."
"He was fifteen years old!" Sage spun around and confronted them all. "Don't you realize how protective a fifteen-year-old boy feels toward his mother, especially if she loses her husband? Harlan's reaction was perfectly normal. He felt like Hardtack was usurping his position as head of the household."
Having had her say, she turned back around and began cutting up chili peppers, wielding the butcher knife with a vengeance. What weight did her opinion carry? None. She had made a fool of herself again, bragging about the contracts she was going to get for the company. Hardtack hadn't been interested in t
he merits of her sales technique.
Lucky continued. "Harlan probably was off-base, but, as Sage said, he was looking at it through the eyes of an adolescent."
"A child grieving for his lost parent and feeling betrayed and deserted by the other," Laurie said, ever fair and ever the sympathizer. "That was a no-win situation for them all, wasn't it? How tragic."
"Harlan resented Hardtack for trying to have everything that had belonged to Daniel Boyd. He judged his mother as a Jezebel. So he split," Lucky said. "He hasn't gone back since. Which brings us to today. When Sage showed Hardtack the drawings, he recognized Harlan's technique."
"How?" Devon asked.
"Unbeknownst to Harlan, Hardtack and Marian have been keeping track of him all this time, though they never interfered in his life. They'd seen his work before."
Chase said, "Hardtack admitted to having Sage followed after she left the drawings with him."
"Oh, my goodness," Laurie said.
The blade of the butcher knife hit the chopping block with a solid thwack. Sage was outraged at the thought of being followed and photographed by a private investigator. It seemed so sleazy. She didn't care how many zillions Hardtack was worth, he had his nerve!
"Hardtack pulls a lot of strings," Lucky said. "When he says jump, legions of folks ask how high. Anyway, he verified that Harlan was our draftsman, figured it was time to confront his prodigal stepson face-to-face, and brought Marian along for the showdown."
"He tricked her into coming? She didn't know?" Marcie was aghast at the thought.
"No, she knew. She was anxious to get a glimpse of her son, since she hadn't seen him in fourteen years."
"To his credit, Harlan treated his mother kindly," Chase told the group. "He let her paw him, his face, his hair. You know how mothers do when they haven't seen their kids for a while. They kissed each other and hugged for a long time. It was Hardtack he felt the animosity for."
"So his feelings haven't ameliorated with maturity?" Marcie asked.
"Apparently not," Lucky replied. "He accused Hardtack of taking it all—his partner's business, his partner's money, his partner's wife."
"Strong words," Pat remarked.
"Well, Hardtack was doing his share of shouting, too. He told Harlan that he could think anything he wanted to about him, but he staunchly took offense at Marian being accused of adultery. I got the impression that the tough old buzzard really loves her.
"He claimed that every penny belonging to Marian and Harlan is right where Daniel Boyd left it—in trust, earning interest at an astronomical rate. He said, 'Why don't you stop acting like a snot-nosed kid and claim your inheritance. It's time you assumed some responsibility.'
"Then Harlan said, 'I don't want my inheritance. Not if it could turn me into a money-grabber like you. Screw it and screw the ball and chain that go with it.'"
"Lucky!" Laurie remonstrated. "The children."
"Mother, I'm editing as I go. Harlan didn't say 'screw.' Then Hardtack said that Harlan had no sense of responsibility whatsoever and never would amount to anything except a bum and a drifter. That's when Sage piped in and told Hardtack that Harlan was the most responsible person she had ever met."
All eyes moved to her. "Sage, I commend you for defending our friend," Laurie said, "but it really wasn't your place to interfere."
She swung around. A piece of meat was skewered to the tip of the butcher knife. "It was my place. I have every right to stand up for Harlan. He's going to be my husband."
Their exclamations ranged from total disbelief to happy surprise.
"Does Harlan know that?" Lucky asked.
"He asked me to marry him last night."
Lucky came out of his chair. "When last night? Where was I?"
"You were sound asleep."
He looked hard at his wife. "Devon, I knew you were keeping something from me. Do you know something I should know?"
"Sit down, Lucky. You're upsetting Lauren."
"She's right, Lucky, sit down," Chase barked. "If you fly off the handle, you'll only make things worse."
"And if you fight him again, I'll break your arm myself this time," Sage declared.
"I thought you broke your arm when you tripped against a trailer hitch," Laurie exclaimed.
Lucky ducked his head sheepishly.
Chase sighed and said to Laurie, "He tripped and fell against a trailer hitch during a fistfight with Harlan over Sage's virtue. We were afraid she might be pregnant."
Laurie gasped and reached for Pat's hand. The sheriff's expression was thunderous. "Can't you young'uns ever behave yourselves? We leave town for a few weeks, and everything goes to hell in a handbasket."
"Is there more?" Laurie asked, looking pained.
"Not really," Lucky said. "Except that Hardtack didn't back out of his deal with us despite his shouting match with Harlan."
A door slammed upstairs.
"Shh, here he comes," Chase whispered.
In the sudden silence of the kitchen, Sage held her breath. No one had seen Harlan since his stepfather had called him a 'sniveling little sonofabitch,' whose damned stubborn pride was breaking his mother's heart. That's when Harlan had slung open the door of Tyler Drilling's office and stalked out.
Sage had plunged after him, but he was already out of sight by the time she reached her car. She had driven home through a blinding rain, hoping to see his pickup parked out front. She had sobbed with relief when she turned into the lane and saw it there.
But then she had lost her nerve. Instead of rushing upstairs, she and everyone else had allowed him privacy to sort through the upsetting events of the morning. After years of running from it, he had been forced to confront his unhappy youth. He would need space in which to grapple with it.
Now they could hear his boots on the stairs, then in the dining room as he made his way toward the kitchen. Everyone pretended to be occupied, but Lauren was the only one actually moving. She was blowing slobbery bubbles against her mother's cheek.
He stepped through the doorway, his eyes seeking out Sage immediately. She gave him a tentative smile, which collapsed the instant she spotted the duffel bag in his hand.
"I'll be leaving now. I cleared your room out. You can have it back."
The announcement left them stunned. Chase was the first to recover his speech. "You're leaving?"
Harlan stepped forward and shook hands with Chase. "I liked you the first time we met in Houston last year. I like you even better now that I've gotten to know you. Good luck."
He moved to Lucky and clasped his left hand. "Sorry again about your arm. I didn't mean to do it. You're a hell of a guy."
To them both he said, "Everything checked out this morning. With those new computers, the pumps'll work like a charm. You'll find all my drawings in the file cabinet in the garage. Using them as guidelines, your people shouldn't have any problems with the layout and assembly."
"We hate to see you go, Harlan," Chase said quietly.
"It's time I did." He glanced quickly at Sage. "Past time."
"But what about your commission? How'll we know where to send your checks? If some of these contracts that you and Sage worked on together pan out, you'll be due a lot of money."
He gave a dismissive shrug. "I've got enough cash to last a while. If I need the money, I'll contact you."
They knew he wouldn't. Even as he said it, he was backing out the door. "Devon, Marcie, take care of those sweet babies. I'm gonna miss them. Pat, look after Laurie. She's a darlin' lady."
Laurie stood up and extended her arms toward him in a maternal gesture. "Harlan, please."
"Bye, y'all." He pulled on his hat, ducked out the door and disappeared.
Sage gaped at the empty doorway for the space of several seconds, aware that everyone was trying desperately hard not to look at her with pity.
Before she had time to think about it, she dashed after him. Dodging furniture like an expert swordsman, she charged through the rooms of the house, bolted t
hrough the front door, ran across the porch, and leaped over the steps. Heedless of the cold, pelting rain, she caught up with him as he tossed his duffel bag into the cab of his pickup.
Grabbing hold of his sleeve, she spun him around. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You can't just walk out on me like this!"
"Get back inside. You're gonna get soaked."
"I don't care if I get wet anymore than I care if you're a Texas Donald Trump or as poor as Job's turkey. I want you, whether you come garbed in riches or standing buck-naked."
On her headlong flight from the kitchen, she had forgotten to discard the butcher knife. She shook the blade at the end of his nose. "I learned something about myself today. I'm a person to be reckoned with.
"At first, I thought that Hardtack had come here strictly to find you. Then about thirty seconds ago, it occurred to me that he didn't have to sign a contract with us to locate you. Once his investigator had sighted us together, he could have circumvented us and gone straight to you.
"So that means he was sold on me just as he said. I sold him on Tyler Drilling. I didn't get that contract because of you, but in spite of you.
"Oh!" she ground out. "You've been accusing me of avoiding the truth, when you've been living a lie for years. It's time you stopped avoiding who and what you are, Harlan. It's time you reconciled your differences with Hardtack, if not for your own benefit, then certainly for your brokenhearted mother's.
"And another thing, you can't make love to me and propose marriage and then hightail it out of here, Harlan Boyd. How dare you even try? How dare you embarrass me in front of my family right after I announced that you had asked me to marry you?
"This time I'm not going to swallow my pride and hide my hurt feelings like I did with Travis. This one counts. This time I'm going to kick and scream and pull temper tantrums and lie down in front of your truck and do whatever else it takes to keep you.
"You boasted of never leaving a job unfinished. Well, last night you promised to remain faithful to me and make me happy. That's a job that's going to last for the rest of your life.