Читать книгу Out of Exile - Carla Cassidy - Страница 9

Lilly left the stables and checked on Aunt Clara, who had retired to her room for the evening. Lilly fixed herself a glass of iced tea, then went back outside and sat on the wicker chair on the front porch.

The sun had disappeared and the purple haze of twilight was fading as stars began to appear as if by magic in the darkening skies.

She saw Jacob Tilley leave the stables and get into his pickup. She waved at him as he drove off, then looked expectantly toward the stable, assuming Matthew would soon follow.

When minutes passed and he didn’t come out, she returned her gaze to the night sky. From her apartment in downtown Dallas she never saw the stars. But here they looked big enough, low enough, to reach out and grab.

She drew a deep breath, feeling more relaxed than she had in months. The frantic tempo of the Dallas city life and the daily stresses of her job seemed very far away at the moment.

A week or two here and perhaps she’d be ready to go back and face her life…and her failure. She drew another breath, fighting against a wave of sadness so deep it sent a piercing ache through her.

She consciously forced her thoughts away from her job and instead found thoughts of Matthew intruding into her mind. As a boy he had fascinated her and she was surprised to discover some of that fascination remained.

As the years had passed and she’d remembered the crush she’d had on him, she’d always believed that she’d been acutely drawn to him due to the raging hormones of a teenager. But she was well past the age of teenage hormones and still she found herself physically drawn to him.

The moment they had pulled in and she had seen him, she’d experienced a slight quickening of her pulse, an acceleration of her heartbeats.

Nostalgia. Surely that’s what she was experiencing. The nostalgia of that first crush, time spent with a handsome young man, the awakening of sexual awareness between two teenagers.

Hearing footsteps, she looked toward the stables to see the object of her thoughts approaching, his boots crunching on the gravel drive.

“Everything all right?” she asked as she saw the frown that deepened the lines on his face.

“I hope so.” He lowered himself into the chair next to hers. “I just hired Jacob Tilley and I’m hoping it’s not a mistake.”

“Why would it be a mistake?”

“Jacob Tilley’s father, Walter, was our family lawyer at the time my father passed away. He’s now in prison for running illegal aliens through our ranch and murdering a young woman who worked here as a social director. He also nearly killed my brother, Mark and his wife, April, when they stumbled on his operation.”

Lilly gasped and listened as he told her the details of Jacob’s father’s crimes. “But surely you heard about all this,” he said as he finished the story.

Lilly shook her head. “No, I didn’t hear anything about it. But you have to understand, most of the information I get about the ranch and what’s happening with your family is from Aunt Clara and the letters she gets from Johnna. Johnna doesn’t write her very often, and I think Aunt Clara often forgets what she’s been told in those letters.”

“That’s how I managed to keep up with your life over the years,” he replied. “Johnna would mention a letter she’d received from Clara and Clara’s letters were usually filled with tidbits about your life.”

Lilly grinned. “They must have been pretty boring letters.” She took a sip of her tea, then placed the glass on the porch next to her chair. “Whenever I visited out here, I thought you led the most exciting life I could ever imagine.”

“Really?” She heard his disbelief in his low voice.

“If you’d been here longer than a week or two at a time, you’d probably have realized just how unexciting ranch life can be. It’s a hard life. It can be brutal.” A hard edge had appeared in his tone.

He cleared his throat and stood. He moved to the porch railing and stared out at the encroaching darkness. For a long moment he was silent…a silence that invited no entry.

Lilly stared at the width of his rigid back and wondered if he dated, if he had a special somebody in his life. She remembered him as somebody who had difficulty opening himself to anyone, sharing pieces of himself.

In those summers when she had visited here, she had worked very hard to get through the barriers she sensed he’d erected to guard him from everyone. And when she’d felt she’d succeeded, it had been a sweet success.

But he wasn’t sixteen or seventeen anymore, and she had no right to intrude on his thoughts, his emotions or his life.

“You mentioned that Clara wants to make her home here permanently,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “I need to warn you that there isn’t any guarantee this place will be permanent.”

She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?” She rose from her chair and joined him at the railing.

He didn’t look at her but continued to stare out at some indefinable point in the distance. “I’ve received an offer from a development company that wants to buy this place in five months when it officially becomes ours.”

“But surely you aren’t considering selling,” Lilly protested. She placed a hand on his forearm, and when he turned to look at her, his eyes were as dark as the night that surrounded them.

“To be honest, I don’t know what I’m considering.”

“But what does the rest of your family say about selling?” Lilly asked. She dropped her hand from his arm, conscious that she was too aware of the firm muscles, the smooth skin beneath her fingertips.

He took several steps away from her and raked a hand through his hair. “I haven’t told them about the offer yet. I’ve called a family meeting for tomorrow night and we’ll all discuss it then. I just figured I should let you know that, at the moment, nothing here is permanent.”

Lilly didn’t know how to reply. She was stunned that there was even a possibility that the Delaney heirs would want to sell this place that was their roots, their heritage.

How she wished she had roots like this…a place that was home, had been home for years. But Lilly also knew she had no right to fight for a home that wasn’t hers.

Again they stood in silence. Lilly tried to ignore the fact that she could smell his masculine scent, a pleasant combination of the outdoors, of leather and hay and spicy cologne.

She could feel his body heat, as if the sun had fevered him all day long and his skin still retained the warmth. Suddenly she remembered how much she’d wanted him to kiss her years ago.

There had been a time when she’d thought she might die if he kissed her, that a single kiss from him would have the power to make her expand and blow away with sheer happiness.

On those summer visits they had explored every inch of the Delaney ranch, he’d taken her into town for ice cream and to the movies. They’d even spent time dancing together at a Fourth of July celebration the town had put on.

They had indulged in the flirtatious games of teenagers just learning the power and strength of their own sexuality, but they had never kissed. Certainly she had wanted him to kiss her, and there were times she thought he’d come precariously close, but it had never happened.

She returned to her chair, finding it ludicrous that she was thirty-five years old and wondering how Matthew Delaney kissed.

“Did I mention that a moving van will be arriving first thing in the morning with the rest of Aunt Clara’s things?” she asked in an attempt to school her errant thoughts.

“No.” He released a sigh as if the very thought made him tired, and Lilly wished it weren’t dark so she could see his face, see the expression that might be there.

“There isn’t a whole lot. Mostly boxes of clothing and knickknacks, her favorite rocking chair and a few other small pieces of furniture. She sold most of her things in an estate sale last week.”

He turned to face her, his features still shadowed by the night. “I’m going to be interviewing and hiring some new hands in the morning. Just have the movers unload the things in the living room, and I’ll deal with it tomorrow afternoon. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call it a night.” He didn’t wait for her reply, but opened the door and disappeared into the house.

“Good night, Matthew,” she said softly, oddly disappointed by his abrupt departure.

He intrigued her. When they’d both been teenagers she’d sensed there was an unusual depth to him, a sensitivity that he tried to keep hidden from everyone, and she sensed those same things now.

She shook her head ruefully. Maybe she should call it a night, too. She’d done all the driving on the long trip from Dallas, and she was tired.

And apparently that overtiredness was filling her head with silly notions about a boy she’d once spent time with…a boy who’d grown into a man she didn’t know at all.

Rising from the chair, she stretched her hands overhead to work out kinks that had tightened during the long hours in the car.

She froze with her hands over her head, a sudden, creepy feeling that she was being watched raising the hairs on the nape of her neck. Slowly she lowered her hands, the creepy feeling persisting.

Gazing around the area, she didn’t see anyone around, although the darkness of night, especially around the barn and stables was profound.

Definitely overtired, she decided, and with one last look around she went inside and headed upstairs to bed.

The moving van arrived just after ten the next morning. Matthew was in the midst of showing around a couple of new ranch hands he’d just hired. They were standing near the corral when the van pulled in.

“It takes a lot to keep an operation like this running smoothly,” Matthew said, trying to focus on the men before him instead of on Lilly, who had just appeared on the front step to meet the movers.

It would have been far easier to stay focused on the task at hand if Lilly hadn’t been wearing another pair of those damnable short shorts.

“I expect each of my workers to give 100 percent at all times,” he continued. In the bright yellow T-shirt, she looked like a ray of sunshine as she told the two men in the van where to put the items they’d begun unloading.

He focused back on the two men before him. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, is she your wife?” It was the younger of the two cowpokes that asked the question with a thumb pointed in Lilly’s direction.

“No, she isn’t my wife, but she’s a guest at the ranch, and one of the cardinal rules of working here is that there is no fraternization between the guests and the help. I expect you to be friendly and helpful to the guests, but nothing more.” Matthew looked at the two men. “Any other questions?”

“None from me,” Ned Sayville, the older of the two said.

Eddie Creighton, the younger of the two shrugged his shoulders. “Just tell us what to do from here.”

“There are a couple of stalls in the stables that need to be cleaned out and fresh hay laid down. Why don’t you start there, and when that’s done hunt me up and we’ll get you going on something else.”

He watched as the two headed for the stables. For the next couple of days they would be jacks of all trades until he could assess their strengths and see where they would best fit at the ranch.

Now the next problem he had to deal with was Lilly and Aunt Clara, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with either.

He’d had a miserable night, his sleep interrupted by intense nightmares the likes of which he hadn’t suffered for years. He knew Lilly’s presence was partially responsible for the recurrence of the old, familiar nightmares.

She had no way of knowing the enormous price he’d paid for those special, seemingly carefree days he’d spent with her so long ago. And if he had his way, she would never know.

But the night of reliving the worst of his past had left him with a cauldron of emotions deep inside and he knew that what he needed more than anything was a little distance and some time to get under control.

With this thought in mind, instead of heading for the moving van and Lilly, Matthew headed for the stables. Within minutes he’d saddled up his horse, Thunder, and took off, racing across the open pasture as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

But it wasn’t the hounds of hell…it was memories of his father. Damn Adam Delaney! Damn him to hell for having no soul, for scarring his children with mental and physical abuse.

Matthew dug his heels into Thunder’s flanks. Thunder responded to his urgings and raced like the wind until Matthew reined her in, the fire in his belly dissipating to a more manageable level.

Seeing a fence post teetering precariously, he made a mental note to talk to his youngest brother, Luke about it. Luke took care of the fencing around the property, along with any carpentry work that needed to be done.

If they did sell the ranch, Luke would be all right. He was a skilled craftsman in woodworking and would never go hungry. Johnna, Matthew’s sister, would be okay, too. Married to the local Methodist minister, Johnna also had a thriving law practice. They would survive fine without the yoke of the family ranch around their necks.

It was his brother Mark that worried Matthew. Not only was Mark’s house built on the property, but his wife was expecting a new baby. Mark’s life had been working with the horses on the ranch. That’s all he’d ever done…all he’d ever wanted to do. If they sold the ranch, Mark would not only lose his livelihood but his house, as well.

Matthew didn’t know what he wanted to do. There were days when he thought that if he had to stay here one more day he’d go mad. And other days when he absolutely positively couldn’t imagine doing anything but what he was doing…managing the family dude ranch.

He rode for nearly an hour, the physical activity effectively banishing the anger provoked by the nightmares and haunting memories.

When he returned to the stables it was nearly noon and the moving van was gone. He unsaddled Thunder and brushed her down, then headed for the house.

He found Lilly and Clara in the living room surrounded by boxes, crates and the rest of the worldly possessions owned by Clara.

“Did everything arrive all right?” he asked.

Clara smiled. “Oh, yes. They did a fine job. I don’t believe a single thing got broken or scuffed.” Her smile faded and she gazed at Matthew with embarrassment. “I suppose Lilly told you that I’m an old fool and have managed to lose almost everything.”

Instantly Lilly put her arm around the old woman. “You are not an old fool. You were simply vulnerable, and unsavory, slick people took advantage of you.”

“What’s done is done,” Matthew said. “Now what we need to decide is where you’ll be the happiest here.”

Clara’s hazel eyes peered at him curiously. “What do you mean? I just assumed I’d stay in the room upstairs.”

“If you’d prefer, we could put you in one of the cottages. That way you could have all your personal things around you and your own space. It would be like having your own little home.”

It was a perfect setup. She could live rent-free in one of the cottages, and Matthew wouldn’t have to share his home with her. He could remain alone, which is just how he liked it.

Clara’s face lit up. “Oh, but that would be wonderful,” she exclaimed and clapped her chubby hands together. “And of course I could pay you rent. I do get a little social security money each month.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Matthew replied. “You’re family and family doesn’t pay rent.” The words stuck in his throat despite the fact that Clara beamed him another broad smile.

“I’d like to see the cottage before we move her in there,” Lilly said as she dropped her arm from Clara’s shoulder.

“Fine. I can show it to you now,” he said.

“While you two do that, I’ll just go finish up lunch and we’ll eat when you get back,” Clara said. Before Matthew or Lilly could say anything else, Clara bustled from the room.

“Shall we go?” Matthew asked.

Lilly nodded and together they left the house.

“The guest cottages are over there.” He pointed to a row of neat little bungalows in the near distance. “But I’m going to put her in one of the worker cottages around back.”

He cast Lilly a sideways glance. “Are you afraid that I intend to put her in a shanty?”

Her smile held a touch of guilt. “Not intentionally, but sometimes men aren’t picky enough when it comes to living spaces.” Her small smile fell aside. “I just want her to be happy and comfortable. I feel guilty that I didn’t know what was going on in her life, didn’t realize she was getting into such trouble.”

“What exactly did happen?” Matthew asked as they rounded the side of the main house.

The bungalows where several workers lived came into view. Although not as charming as the guest cottages, they were neatly painted and tidy.

“She met some man who talked her into investing everything she had in some bogus stock. He was obviously a con artist and she didn’t even question his motives. He talked her into mortgaging her house and maxing out her credit cards. When I found out what had happened, we made a police report, but of course the man had taken all her cash and disappeared. He has yet to be found.”

Matthew gestured her toward the third bungalow and they stepped up on the tiny front porch. “See? No shanty.”

She laughed, the sound deep-throated and intensely pleasant. “Sorry for being skeptical, but as I said before, my main goal is to see Aunt Clara happy and comfortable. Can we go inside?”

He nodded and she turned the doorknob, and they stepped into the cottage. It was obvious she was quite devoted to Clara. Matthew had never heard her talk about her own parents.

The story he’d heard from his father years ago was that Clara had adopted some damn fool teenage kid whose parents had gotten themselves killed in a car accident. Adam had not been just skeptical about his sister’s mental judgment, but contemptuous about the whole arrangement. He had not been able to understand why anyone would consciously make the choice to take in a teenager.

“It’s small, but quite charming,” Lilly said as her gaze swept around the small living room with its utilitarian kitchenette. The furnishings were plain—a sand-colored sofa and chair and a dinette table.

She opened a door to expose a small bathroom. The door next to it opened to the bedroom. The bedroom held a chest of drawers and a double bed. She went around the bed to the window, and Matthew followed her into the room.

“Not much of a view,” she murmured more to herself than to him.

“But the price is right.”

She twirled around to face him with one of her smiles that seemed to light up the room. “Yes, the price is definitely right, and I know she’ll be happy here.” She walked back to him and took his hand in hers. “Thank you, Matthew, for thinking about this. This is the best of both worlds. She’ll have her privacy, the dignity of living alone and yet will have you close enough should she need help. It was wonderfully thoughtful of you.”

It hadn’t been thoughtful at all. A wave of guilt swept through Matthew at her words. It had been strictly a selfish gesture. He’d thought of putting Clara here simply for his own comfort, so he wouldn’t have to put up with her day in and day out.

But he couldn’t admit that to Lilly, not with the warmth of her hand around his, not with the scent of her enveloping him sweetly. He couldn’t very well admit that he didn’t particularly like the woman she so obviously loved.

He pulled his hand from hers, uncomfortable at the touch, by her very nearness and by the engaging light in her blue eyes. “We’d better get inside for lunch.”

“When can we get her moved in here?” Lilly asked as they started back to the main house. “I’d like to see her all settled in before I leave here.”

“As far as I’m concerned we can move her things in tomorrow afternoon and get her settled in then. The only thing I noticed that needs to be done is that the whole place could use a new coat of paint inside. I can get a couple of men on that immediately.”

They reached the front of the house and he spied Eddie and Ned approaching. “As a matter of fact, I’ll take care of it right now,” he said, and gestured the men toward them.

“We were just looking for you, boss,” Eddie said. “We finished in the stables and wondered what you want us to do now.”

“Lilly, this is Eddie Creighton and Ned Sayville. They’re going to be working here at the ranch. I just hired them on this morning,” Matthew explained.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both,” she said, then pointed to a gold chain and charm that hung around Ned’s thick neck. “What a lovely necklace.” The charm was a thick gold cross with twisted vines wrapped around it.

Ned reached up and touched the charm. “Thank you, ma’am. My mama bought it for me years ago.”

Eddie frowned. “All my mama ever buys me is underwear two sizes too small.”

They laughed, then Matthew told them about moving Clara into bungalow three. He told them where the paint was stored and what needed to be done.

“And could we move out the chair that’s in there so Aunt Clara can put her rocking chair in its place?” Lilly asked.

Matthew nodded. “Move the chair into bungalow two.”

The two men took off. “They seem nice,” Lilly said.

“They’re all right,” Matthew replied as they entered the house. “Neither of them has much ranch experience, but both seemed eager to learn and promised to be hard workers.”

“What about Jacob? Did he show up this morning?”

“At dawn. I sent him out to the old barn that we’re getting ready to renovate. The plans are to turn it into sort of a community building. Mark has been working on getting it cleaned up.”

Abby raised one of her dark eyebrows. “Lots of hiring and renovating going on for something you aren’t sure is permanent,” she observed.

“Ah, there you are and just in time,” Clara greeted them as they walked into the kitchen. “I’ve just put it all on the table.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Matthew protested as they took their places at the table. “You aren’t responsible for the meals around here.”

“But I wanted to,” Clara exclaimed. She leaned over and patted Matthew on the shoulder. “If I can’t do for my family, then what good am I?”

Matthew said nothing. If she’d wanted to do for her family, she should have done something years ago. She should have done something to save him and his brothers and sister from their father.

Anything she did for them now was too little, too late. And for that he could never forgive her.