Perfect Family Page 12

  “No, no, of course not. There’s been other burglaries in this center. I probably shouldn’t even have said anything, but …”

  She smiled to herself despite her apprehension. Sol was open and honest, and couldn’t keep any secret unless pledged to secrecy. Then he would go to his grave with it. “You’ll let me know if you find anything else missing?”

  “Of course. You have a good time. Solve those mysteries to your satisfaction.”

  “I will. Say hello to Ben.”

  “Of course. I’ll tell him you said to give him an extra dog biscuit.”

  “Are you spoiling him?”

  “Rotten,” he answered.

  “And you told me you didn’t like dogs.”

  “Ben is different. And I didn’t say I didn’t like them. I just … never had time for them.”

  “Wait until Christmas,” she threatened.

  He chuckled. “We’ll talk about that when you get back.”

  She said good-bye, and thanked him again, and hung up the phone.

  Another burglary. And someone had searched her room. What could they be looking for? Or was it still another coincidence? She swallowed hard, wondering whether Sol might be in danger. And yet none of the invasions had been violent. Even the burglar at her home had obviously just wanted to get away. Still, Sol was like a father to her. He had given her a job her sophomore year, realizing from her constant visits that she loved books as much as he did. She had worked for him for three years until she received her degree in literature and discovered that it equipped her for few jobs.

  Sol had an independent income from his family. He owned the store just because he loved books, but now he was in his sixties, and he had an itch to write a book, to add to the history he loved so well. When he’d offered her a partnership with a very low down payment, she’d seized the opportunity. She hadn’t realized then that she was hiding from life, from risks, from painful commitments. A bookstore was the perfect place to do that. She lived vicariously, but safely, through books.

  She hadn’t known it, in fact, until she mounted Carefree yesterday, until she felt the old power of a muscled body beneath her, the thrill of the rushing wind, the warm caress of a hot sun. She’d forgotten how it felt to be so alive, to experience so many sensations and emotions, and plain unadulterated joy.

  Jessie knew one thing now. When she did return to Atlanta, she would start riding again. Somewhere. Somehow.

  Ignoring all the stiffness and painful bruises, she dressed, made a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker in her room and took it outside. The morning sun was bright, intense. It bounced off Coffee Pot Rock, the massive red rock formation shaped like its name. The hues were spectacular, and the raw rugged beauty filled her with awe. And something else.

  A sense of belonging? A kind of rightness?

  Could a place really be part of one’s soul, or was everyone affected by the sheer magnificence of the area?

  And loneliness. She had discovered that last night.

  She shivered despite the heat. It was late June, and the day already hot. Not like Phoenix, but warm enough. After finishing her coffee, she thought about breakfast. A number of the family staying at the resort had planned to eat breakfast together. But she wasn’t up to that yet this morning. April was staying here, and her brother, as were assorted other first and second cousins.

  Jessie didn’t relish seeing April this morning, not before breakfast. She didn’t want either apologies or, she feared, a certain amount of smugness that Jessie had not only been thrown but had also gotten herself lost. She felt her face flush as she thought about last night.

  She hadn’t had any time to look around Sedona on her own. She would check out the local bookstores to see what they had in literature about the area, then find the library.

  It would be closed today, but she planned to be there bright and early tomorrow morning. Her conversation with Sol had spurred her determination to find out more about the family. Independently.

  She went back inside the room. It had lost some of its charm last night. She considered moving to another hotel, but the horse was already out of the barn. She doubted whether she would have another visitor.

  Sighing, she turned off the coffeemaker and located the keys to the rental car.

  Marc glared at his daughter. “What in the hell were you up to?”

  April flinched, but he didn’t relent. Dammit, she could have ruined everything.

  “I didn’t think you wanted her to get too fond of the Sunset.”

  “So you drove her into the arms of Ross. Her protector. Is that what you wanted?”

  “How would I know that he would be the one to find her. It could have been my brother. Or you. Then you two could have been heroes.”

  “It was reckless and foolish. You might well have made her suspicious.”

  April shook her head. “She blamed herself. And well she should. I didn’t plan it. I just saw the opportunity when she didn’t keep up with me.”

  “And Ross?”

  April shrugged her shoulders. “Who cares about Ross?”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

  She shrugged.

  “He doesn’t want you. That’s it, isn’t it?” Marc said with a hint of cruelty. “You’ve always wanted what you can’t have.”

  “I want what you want, Daddy.”

  “Then don’t go off on your own. Jessica needs to be handled very carefully. I want her to trust me. She won’t if my daughter abandons her in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I’m sorry. I just thought …”

  He sighed. “You thought you would outsmart your brother. You don’t have to compete with him, baby.”

  Her eyes flashed. Damn. April had always been competitive, especially with her brother. For some reason, she thought she had to outperform him to win approval. She’d always resented Hall, the son who’d been named after their great-grandfather. Marc sighed. Great things had always been expected of Hall, little from her. A good marriage for April would have suited him fine.

  But that had never suited April. She’d wanted to be his campaign manager when she wasn’t anywhere near ready for the position. She resented the fact that Marc had brought Hall immediately into a prominent position with the campaign. He partially understood. She’d been stuffing envelopes for him when Hall was out playing baseball. She’d come to consider herself indispensable. And, in many ways, she was. But she was also too assertive, too abrasive with the others on the campaign staff. She’d never learned that a politician gathered more flies with honey.

  He was convinced that her desire to best her brother had prompted her to lose Jessica. She wanted to show him up, to make Marc see that she could be as tough as any man.

  Just how far would she go?

  He didn’t know, and that frightened him.

  “Just don’t do anything else without asking me first.”

  She bit her lip, and he wasn’t sure whether she understood how important it was. It wasn’t just the sale of the ranch at stake. It was those bonds. And if anyone had a key to them, Jessica did. They couldn’t scare her off.

  “Swear?”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. Now let’s go have breakfast. Perhaps Jessica will be there.”

  “Not another apology,” April complained. “I made one last night.”

  “And you’ll make fifteen more if necessary,” he said.

  “All right,” she said reluctantly.

  “How would you like to go with me to the meeting in Phoenix next week?”

  Her eyes shone. The defiance faded from her face. She’d been wanting to sit in on some of the meetings with key supporters. He had recently taken Hall to several.

  “It’s done, then,” he said. “And always remember there are many ways to trap your quarry. The best is not always the most obvious.”

  Jessie told herself that walking was the best possible cure for sore muscles. She wasn’t sure she believed it. Not when every step
was agony.

  The car wasn’t much better. Thank God, it was her left wrist that was sprained. She rested that arm on the armrest, using her fingers sparingly. Her right hand did all the work.

  Armed with a good breakfast from a diner, she drove to the old center of town, stopping at the tourist center which, happily, was open on Sunday. After loading herself down with chamber of commerce information, she headed for the bookstore in the next block.

  She spent an hour there, prowling over every book with even a hint of history in it, then wandered the short streets that made up what was one of three separate entities that composed the city of Sedona. According to the map, this was the old town. Further out was the government complex, including the library. Then there was Tlaquepaque, the arts and crafts village.

  But these streets were lined with souvenir shops and storefronts hawking Jeep trip explorations and hot air balloon excursions. She saw a number of people getting into colorful Jeeps, and she longed to get in with them. She longed to be anonymous. But it was already getting late.

  She was due at the ranch for the final reunion supper and to say her good-byes to those family members who were leaving tomorrow.

  With her maps and books on the seat beside her, she drove out to the ranch. More food. More drink. More people. More puzzles.

  And Ross Macleod.

  Embarrassment burned deep inside her whenever she thought of him. How could she have been so foolish as to get lost?

  Would he even be there? He seemed to make elusiveness an art.

  Once again, cars were parked all over the yard, including Alex’s. She decided to head over to the barn first and see how Carefree was. She would also beg the horse’s pardon.

  She had no more than slammed the door of the car shut when Alex emerged from the house and came directly to her. “I called this morning. You didn’t answer.” His tone was a little querulous.

  “I wanted to explore. You don’t have to take care of me forever.”

  “I wish I had,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand. “If I had even imagined that …”

  “That I would make a total idiot out of myself. Not your fault, Mr. Kelley.”

  “I shouldn’t have left.”

  She tried to change the subject. “Did you get your client’s son out?”

  “He was out when I got there. I think they got impatient and contacted the judge directly.”

  “They can do that?”

  “In a small community some people can do anything they want.”

  Jessie stored that piece of information in her mind.

  “In any event, I apologize. Next time I will stay by your side.”

  Jessie wasn’t sure she wanted that. She sidestepped the offer. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed that ride. Until the end,” she added wryly.

  He grinned. “Indefatigable, huh?”

  “Well, I do have a few aches.”

  “I bet you do,” he said. “But you look good.”

  “With all my new fine colors. Purple, mauve?” She asked the question as she looked ruefully down at the quite evident bruises and the tight bandage around her wrist.

  Alex eyed it, too. “You shouldn’t be driving with that wrist.”

  “It’s my left. And I can use it slightly.”

  He shook his head. “At least we know you have the Clements stubbornness.”

  She nodded. “I want to see how Carefree is.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  At the moment, she didn’t want that. She wanted a word with Ross if he was there. She wanted to apologize once more. She might not see him again. Although she was convinced in her own mind now that her father was indeed the missing Clements brother, the blood tests could still prove differently If so, she would not be returning. Even if it did prove to be Clements blood, her home was in Atlanta. Her brief visit in Wonderland was nearly over.

  “I’ll see you in the house later,” she said.

  He hesitated as if he wanted to say something. She didn’t want him to feel guilty about last night, but he apparently did. Everyone was feeling guilty, and she hated that. It was her fault. No one else’s. Still when she looked at him, she wondered where he had gone yesterday. Had it been to her room? And why? There was no one to ask, because there was no one she knew well enough to trust.

  She knew that sad truth would color everything she did or thought or said today. The magic had left. An enigma remained. But she sought to reassure him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  He grinned. “I hear even Ross was impressed with the way you found your way back.”

  “Partially back,” she corrected. “And he didn’t seem impressed. He was angry and had every right to be.”

  Alex frowned. “He thinks more of those horses than he does of people.”

  “I find nothing wrong with that,” she replied tartly. “People should have sense enough to take care of themselves.”

  He ignored her defense of Ross. “All the same, you kept your wits when many wouldn’t have.”

  And if she hadn’t? She most certainly would have been found. This was no longer the wild west. She was never in any danger. There were roads and walking trails and markings. At worst, she would have spent a few uncomfortable hours.

  “It was an adventure,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re going riding again?”

  “Of course. Every rider knows you have to get right back on a horse.”

  “Not today. Not with that wrist.”

  For some reason, she took that as a challenge. “Perhaps.”

  Jessie gave him a brief nod, and headed toward the barn. There would be no nuances there. Ross was blunt and honest.

  She thought. She hoped.

  But during the day she’d told herself not to trust anyone. Not until she discovered who had an interest in her room. She had to remember that.

  Ross wasn’t there. But Carefree was. He nickered softly when she approached and ran a hand down the side of his head. Apparently, she was forgiven for yesterday’s mishap. He was standing easily enough, though she saw that his leg was neatly wrapped. “Ah, Carefree,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. You should be out, kicking up your heels with the other horses.”

  “Oh, I think he enjoys the pampering.” The deep soft drawl startled her, and she spun around.

  He had approached so quietly that she couldn’t believe he was only two feet behind her.

  “Here,” he said, thrusting half a carrot in her hand. He was wearing a faded denim shirt and an equally worn pair of Levi’s.

  The gesture surprised her. She looked up into his dark eyes. She wished she could fathom them, to know what emotions lay behind them. But they were as enigmatic as before. “Thank you,” she said and held out the carrot to Carefree. The horse took it carefully from her hand and chomped on the treat.

  “He’ll be fine,” he said after an awkwardly silent moment. “No lasting damage.” Ross regarded her critically, as if she were one of his charges. “What did the doctor say about your arm?”

  “A minor sprain, just as you diagnosed,” she said. “No more than I deserved.”

  “I should never have let you go without telling you more about these horses. They’re trained differently from the thoroughbreds your father handled. They can stop on a dime and when you tighten the reins, they step backward rather than stopping. Carefree is a hold back horse, not a cutting horse, but he was trained in many of the same maneuvers.”

  “What’s the difference?” she asked.

  He looked at her carefully, almost as if he were measuring the stamina or worth of a horse. Jessie had seen owners and trainers scout horses with that same speculative look in their eyes. She had to fight to keep from squirming under his perusal.

  “He’s not quite as quick or quite as agile.”

  “I think he’s agile,” she said wryly.

  The side of his mouth turned up in what could be construed as a half smile. He changed the subject. “I he
ar you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  No offer to ride again. Just an objective, neutral statement.

  “That’s the plan,” she said just as neutrally.

  He raised a dark eyebrow, and she wondered whether he’d caught the significance of her wording. He didn’t comment on it, though, and she felt a rush of disappointment. A word of regret would have been nice.

  “I imagine you’ll be back. You can try that sunset again,” he said.

  “Will you come with me?”

  “Someone sure as hell will,” he answered. “And it won’t be April.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” she protested. “If I’d stayed with her …” Her voice trailed off as she saw his expression. She could feel the heat of it. He’d not let it show before, but anger apparently had been simmering inside him. She wondered if some of it was directed toward her.

  A muscle jerked in his cheek. “Don’t be too trusting, Miss Clayton.”

  “Does that mean I shouldn’t trust you either?” she asked. A shiver ran down her spine again, just as it had this morning.

  “Hasn’t anyone warned you about me?” he said with a small enigmatic smile.

  She shook her head.

  “I’m the black sheep. The wild one. You should be particularly wary of me. Alex would tell you that.”

  “Alex hasn’t told me anything about you.” It was only a small untruth. Alex had said very little.

  He shrugged. “I imagine he will once the DNA match comes in.”

  “Why then?”

  Ross Macleod shrugged. “I have to go,” he said. “An appointment. I just came to look at Carefree, but he seems to be doing fine.” He hesitated, then said with just a trace of irony, “Have a good trip home.”

  He walked off then. She hesitated a moment, then followed him to the door and watched as he strode over to the least imposing vehicle in the horseshoe-shaped drive: a dusty, blue pickup truck. He didn’t look back as he got into the driver’s seat.

  She ducked back into the barn, not wanting him to see her staring after him.

  An appointment? On Sunday during a family function. Or was he avoiding them all again. Avoiding her.

  Don’t be too trusting. She wanted to kick him. How could he say something like that, then leave so abruptly?