twenty

“Jessie? Jessie.”

The repeated call pulled Jessie back to consciousness. Her head felt as if a dozen devils were hurling coals into a fiery furnace.

She slowly opened her eyes, then closed them again. Someone had turned on the lights.

She tried again, this time making out some of the figures above her. She closed them even quicker.

“Jessie.” The first voice was Sarah’s. The second was Marc’s. They seemed identically worried.

She tried to move, and groaned instead. Even the slightest twitch made her head ache. “I’m taking her to the hospital,” Marc said.

“I’ll call Ross,” Sarah said. “Neither you nor my brother can carry her.”

“What were you doing up here?” Samantha asked.

Marc didn’t wait for her to answer. “We heard a loud noise and I decided to investigate,” he said. “Apparently a box fell on you,” Marc interrupted. “You have to be careful up here.”

Then who closed the door?

Someone in this room?

“I heard someone,” she said, unwilling to let the questions go unasked.

“What do you mean?” Marc said.

“I couldn’t find a light, and then the door closed. I heard someone,” she repeated.

Samantha looked at Marc.

“It was only a few moments after I heard the crash that I reached the stairs. I … had to put some clothes on.” Marc reddened a little. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“It could have been a breeze or anything,” Samantha said. “And it does look as if a box fell on her.”

Jessie tried to move again. She touched the back of her head and felt something wet and sticky. Blood. Then she looked around. Papers had scattered over the floor, apparently from a box that lay partially open. She tried to remember everything, but the last moments in the attic were a blur.

Marc offered his hand, and she took another look at him. He was wearing a pair of slacks, and a shirt half tucked in. It was the first time she hadn’t seen him look immaculate. If he had been with Samantha, then who …?

“I’m going to go get Ross,” Sarah said.

Besides Marc and Samantha, there was only Sarah and ninety-one-year-old Halden in the house. And Ross, who was nearby. Ross who was the only one who knew about the conversation she’d overheard.

She suddenly felt very cold.

Sarah had started to go out the door.

“No,” Jessie said sharply.

Sarah stopped, waited.

“I’m all right,” Jessie said, moving again. At least her head had stopped spinning. The devils were still in there, though.

“You’re going to the hospital anyway,” Marc said. “I felt that bump. You might have a concussion.”

Samantha sighed. “I’ll drive. Marc’s arm is still stiff.”

“Ross …” Sarah started.

“No,” Jessie said. “I’ll go with Samantha.” She didn’t want to go at all. But she knew that was foolish. A concussion could be serious, and she didn’t want to stay in the house tonight. She needed to be away from it. Away from Ross. Away from all those feelings he invoked in her.

Away from the seed of suspicion.

And thoughts of tomorrow. Tomorrow she would hear the terms of her inheritance.

At the moment, it was the last thing she wanted to hear. She wanted to run again. But this time she wouldn’t. This time, by God, she was going to stay. No one was going to frighten her away again.

“Ben …”

“Don’t you worry about that dog,” Sarah said. “I’ll take care of him.”

Jessie didn’t want anyone taking care of Ben except her. He was already scared enough. Of everyone but Ross.

Don’t think about him. But she felt her cheeks grow hot, and probably red.

“Can you stand?” Marc asked.

“I … think so.”

He held out his hand and gently pulled her up. Her head pounded. She looked at the box and its spilled contents. Wouldn’t she be hurt elsewhere if a box had fallen on her? Wouldn’t she have bruises? Then a flash of intense pain blocked out any thought, and only Marc’s steadying arm kept her upright.

“Let’s go,” Marc said worriedly.

She didn’t protest any longer. She leaned on him, grateful for his strength. He was using the arm that hadn’t been wounded, and that brought back memories of that day.

Ross had been around then, too.

Dear God, don’t even think it.

She leaned on Marc as they went down first one set of stairs, then the other. She felt dizzy, unsteady. She wanted to stop at her room and reassure Ben, but she felt she would probably do the opposite.

Then they were in the car, and Samantha was screeching out of the driveway. The lights at Ross’s house were dark. She closed her eyes and tried not to think.

Jessie woke with a raging headache and a drugged feeling. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what had happened or where she was. Then it all flooded back, along with a heaviness of spirit.

She was in a hospital room. She remembered the stitches in her scalp. Thank God they didn’t have to shave any of her hair. They’d explained that now they believed it best not to do that, that wounds were more prone to infection with bits and pieces of shaved hair.

The emergency room doctor had urged her to stay overnight. Since overnight was just a few hours, she’d consented. Sometime in the early morning, she’d fallen asleep.

But it had been a ragged, uncomfortable sleep, frequently interrupted by nurses who had come to check on her. She couldn’t have any drugs because of the head wound, and her mind kept going over the events of last night. She knew there had been someone in that attic with her. The worst thing was realizing there were only five people on the ranch last night.

Either Marc and Samantha were both lying, or Halden had had a miraculous dose of the fountain of youth, or Sarah or Ross …

She could not bear the thought that either would have been involved.

A knock came at the door, and she tried to comb her hair with her fingers. She didn’t want to see anyone until she had a chance to at least look presentable. She winced when she looked down at the shapeless hospital gown.

The rapping on the door came again. She sat up, and waves of pain assaulted her head. She yearned for a simple aspirin.

“Who is it?” she said.

The door opened slightly and she saw Alex’s tawny hair.

“Give me five minutes,” she said.

“I’ll bring up coffee,” he replied cheerfully.

She didn’t like cheery at the moment. But he didn’t wait for an answer.

Jessie put her legs over the side of the bed and stood. The pain faded to an ache. She took a few steps to the bathroom, opening a closet on the way to find her clothes and handbag. At least she’d have a comb and lipstick.

She took one look at herself, closed her eyes, and then, better prepared, looked again.

Her face was pale and her hair stuck out at peculiar angles. As she touched a particularly sore spot on the back of her head, she felt the recent stitches. She combed her hair as best she could, avoiding the tender area, then applied just a touch of lipstick. Then she quickly exchanged the hospital gown for her slacks and shirt.

Another knock, but this time the visitor didn’t wait before entering. A doctor. One she hadn’t seen last night.

He smiled when he saw her. “Ready to go?”

“As soon as you can release me.”

He looked over a chart, then checked the wound in the back of her head. “We’ll want to look at it again in six days.”

“I don’t think I’ll be here then.”

“Then get it done by your doctor. How does your head feel?”

“Like it’s been stomped on.”

“It’s bound to ache near the wound, but if you feel any dizziness, loss of balance, or new pain, call your doctor or come back in.”

She nodded. “Am I discharged then?”

He nodded. “I’ll do the paperwork and send someone up for you. I’m going to write a prescription, but I’d rather you didn’t use it for another few hours.”

She nodded. She had no intention of using anything that would make her groggy. She had to keep her wits about her. “Thank you.”

“And take it easy for the next few days. Get lots of rest.”

“I will,” she promised.

“You have someone to take you home?”

She nodded.

He almost bumped into Alex as he came into the room, a loaded tray in his hands. “How is she?”

“Ready to go. Just a few formalities.” Then the doctor was gone.

Alex gave her a crooked smile. “Can’t let you out of my sight for a moment.” The smile faded. “Sarah asked me to pick you up. She knew we had an appointment this morning. Everyone wanted to come see you, but I told them I would have you back at the ranch before late afternoon. Can you tell me what happened?”

“What did Sarah tell you?”

“That a box fell on you.”

“A box did fall,” she said. “I’m not sure that’s what hit me.”

“What do you mean?”

She decided to tell him the truth. She was tired of all the evasions, the lies, the half-truths. She was not going to be a part of it.

“I heard you and Marc talk about a letter in the attic. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I decided to look for the letter.”

“Sarah would have taken you there,” Alex said.

Jessie wasn’t so sure. “I didn’t want to wait. I … just get bits and pieces about my father. No one seems willing to tell me what happened fifty years ago, or at least everything that happened.” She hesitated, then asked, “Did my father kill Lori and Heath?”

There. It was out. The damning words.

“I don’t know, Jessie. And I don’t think anyone really knows.”

“And the bonds?”

“Ah, someone told you about them.”

“I should have thought you would,” she said. “I recall you asking whether my father had left me anything.”

“I was going to tell you everything this morning,” he said, “or at least what I know. I had no right to discuss past events if you weren’t Harding’s daughter.”

“Not even when you knew there had been burglaries at my home and business?”

“Not even then. I couldn’t know for sure they were connected with your father’s estate.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For sure?” she asked. “Does that mean you suspected?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve known the Clementses all my life. I wouldn’t suspect any of them of burglary.”

“Not even Ross?” The question barely squeaked out.

“No,” he said. “Probably especially not Ross.”

“Why?”

“He would do nothing to hurt Sarah. He doesn’t show it, but he loves that woman. And Sarah cares very much about you.”

“Because I’m the key to holding on to the Sunset.” Again it was a statement. She’d been badly disillusioned in the past few weeks, and she felt the wounds deep inside her heart.

“No,” he said sharply. “Sarah loved your father. She feels that she failed in protecting him. She didn’t tell you everything because she wanted to protect you. She didn’t want you feeling exactly as you feel now. I don’t think she ever thought Harding murdered his brother. Or Lori. She wants to believe they were caught in the fire.”

“But you don’t?”

“I didn’t know him. I wouldn’t even try to guess.”

“And the bonds?”

He hesitated.

“The letter. What did it say?”

“I’ve not seen it. I just know it exists.”

“Do you know what it says?”

“Marc told me that it was from Heath, a rambling letter justifying his theft of family money.”

“What else?”

“It said that he’d repay the family once the oil firm was successful, that he had bought bearer bonds and one day they would be worth a great deal of money. No one thought they ever would, though. Everyone believed it was just another one of his schemes.”

“But that’s not what happened?”

“No, it became American Exploratory Company. Those bearer bonds could be worth millions.”

“Could?”

“If they exist at all,” Alex said. “If they didn’t burn in the fire. If they are what Heath said they were. And no one knows how many bonds were exchanged for the money.”

“Everyone keeps asking me about a book. Why?”

“I’m told that Heath said in the letter that he’d buried the bonds in a location easily accessible to the family, that he marked the location in an old primer.”

Primer. She stiffened, then tried to relax. She didn’t want Alex to know it meant anything to her. Not yet. Not until she knew more. But now she wondered if everything was beginning to make some kind of sick sense. Did someone suspect she had the primer with the location of the bonds in it? It didn’t. She’d leafed through it a hundred times.

“Why would he do that?” She tried to keep her voice even.

“Damned if I know. Except each of the children were given one of a set of old primers that dated back to the sixteen hundreds. They’d belonged to Mary Louise and I think it was her way of reminding them of their heritage. It was kind of a legacy, part of Mary Louise’s plan to keep them all attached to the family.

“Since I didn’t know Heath, I can’t even speculate on why he used the book, except that in some odd way it might be a form of apology, or even recognition of what he was doing. But it doesn’t matter. No one ever found it.”

“And my father’s book?”

“It was in his room. He left everything. Wherever he went that afternoon, whatever he saw, he never returned to the house. I suppose now it should be yours. And that,” he said, “brings me to official business. We can wait and go over everything at my office, or at the ranch.”

Her eyes went to his briefcase then. “I don’t want to discuss anything at the ranch, not with Sarah and Marc there,” she said, wary now of everyone’s motive or intentions. “Can we do it here?”

He looked. “Of course.”

He sat down in the only chair in the room. From her perch on the bed, she had to look down at him. It gave her just a small sense of power, and that was something she felt dearly in need of.

“I think you know some of it,” he said. “The Sunset and its assets were left in trust to the five surviving children and subsequently their heirs. Each of the original five had one vote in case of a sale. If the one share was divided among several heirs, such as Elizabeth and her brother, they have to agree together how they want to vote that share. Only blood relatives can inherit. As you know, that excludes Ross. It wasn’t aimed at him; he wasn’t born when the will was made. But Mary Louise and Hall had wanted the ranch to remain with the bloodline.”

“What happens if one of the children dies without blood heirs?”

“It depends. The share could be left to the family to be divided, or left to a specific member of the family who would then have full voting rights for that share. Or it can be left to a non-family member. In that event, though, the trust kicks in. The share would have to be offered to the family for its market value.”

She absorbed that. “So if Ross inherited, he couldn’t keep the share himself?”

“No.”

“That’s not fair—he’s her adopted son.”

“Fairness doesn’t have anything to do with it,” he said, pulling out some papers from the briefcase. “The family has accepted the DNA tests as proof of your relationship, and so when you sign these papers and I file everything, you become one-fifth owner of the Sunset.”

“What if I don’t want it?”

“Then you will create one hell of a mess,” he said. “You realize that there’s been an offer for the Sunset. If you agree to the sale, you will receive in excess of a million and a half dollars. Three members of the family—Halden; Katherine, who is Harry’s only heir; and Hugh’s family, Elizabeth and Andrew—have all indicated they would vote for the sale. Only Sarah has voted no.”

“So I have a choice of going against all but one of the family, or seeing Sarah’s heart break?”

The side of his mouth twitched slightly. “That about says it.”

“So everyone wants something from me. My vote.”

“To be fair, they also like you, and family really is important to all of them. Harding’s a legend in the family. He had a magic touch with horses. Everyone liked your father.”

“He looked so young in photos. And without a care,” Jessie said. “I don’t remember him like that, and it makes me unbearably sad.”

Alex didn’t reply.

“He never smiled, and he drank too often, and then he would get sullen,” she said. “He was so … dissatisfied.”

“Your mother?”

“She left us not long after I was born. But you must know that,” she added a little resentfully.

“No,” he replied. “We only knew she wasn’t with him those last years. It must have been hard for him, raising a child alone.” Alex’s voice was kind.

“It was. I don’t know how he managed when I was a baby, but later I remember any number of baby-sitters.” She shrugged. “We moved frequently, then there would be a new one. It’s strange but I can’t remember any of them now. They were never with us long enough. I just remembered how …”

She stopped, and he didn’t press. She was grateful. She didn’t understand why she was babbling on. She seldom confided in others, but her emotions were like raw nerve ends. Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. And now someone was throwing sums around, sums like more than a million dollars. She added it up. Even after taxes, she would have enough, if properly invested, to never worry about money again.

She saw Sarah in her mind’s eye, recalled her words when they rode together up to the Saddle. The Sunset was her aunt’s life. But was that more important than what the money could do for the lives of the other members of the family?

“And the bonds?” she asked. “It’s not just my vote everyone wants. They also want to know if I have the key to some … hidden treasure.” She looked into his eyes. “Everyone wants something and it’s not me.”

“That’s not true. You’ll be welcome no matter what you do. Marc and Cullen and others would like you to sell, yes. They have asked me to explain the benefits. But Sarah refuses to sell, and they still love her.”

“And how would she feel if I voted with them against her? She was born in that house.”

“She could do anything she wished,” he said. “She could buy almost anything she liked.”

“Except the Sunset.” She stared at him until he looked away. She knew what she was going to do. It was probably foolish, but she’d never expected an inheritance. She couldn’t regret losing something she’d never had, never earned. But she wasn’t ready to make that declaration yet.

“What do you think I should do?” she asked.

He grinned. “Not a fair question to ask me. My fees would be astronomical if the sale is closed.”

“That’s not the way to convince me.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think so. I suspect you don’t want to sell.”

“Why?”

“Because material things don’t seem to mean a great deal to you.”

“If you grow up without a lot of things, then you don’t miss them. I can’t even imagine what I would do with that much money.”

“Well, there are taxes, though the trust was designed to avoid some of them.”

“I suppose I also feel that I don’t have a right to do anything,” she admitted. “The easiest thing seems to be to do nothing.”

He passed her some papers. “You don’t have to make a decision immediately. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t.”

“I’ll take them and read them. Carefully,” she said.

Alex looked at her with new respect. “We have another week before the offer will be withdrawn. Once you were found … Cullen requested, and received, an extension.”

“What happens to Ross if the ranch is sold?”

“He’d get another job, I suppose. He shouldn’t have a problem. He’s a good manager. Even Marc admits that.”

A knock came at the door. A hospital staffer entered, along with a man pushing an empty wheelchair. “I think the doctor told you to have the stitches removed in about ten days,” the woman said. “Here’s a prescription if you need something for pain.”

“The bill?”

“Already been taken care of,” the woman said.

“Who?”

“I don’t know,” the woman said. “I just know there’s no balance.”

Jessie looked at Alex. He shrugged. “I imagine Marc took care of it. It happened in the family home.” Then he grinned, “And yours.”

It didn’t feel like her house when she walked inside. Except, of course, for Ben’s ecstatic barking. She realized the dog had probably been waiting at the door, and she knelt beside him, giving him a huge hug as Ben squirmed in a frenzy of happiness. She lost herself in that welcome for a moment, not really wanting to face everyone else in the house.

But she had to.

She still felt a shiver of fear. It was probably foolish. No one had actually hurt her, or threatened her. The blow on her head could have been from a falling box. The bonds probably were only a half-forgotten legend with just enough truth to be a mystery.

Sarah was hovering nearby. She looked as if she hadn’t had any sleep, either. “How are you feeling?” Sarah’s words came in a rush. “I think you should sit down. Or should you be lying down? And you must be hungry. I’ll have something fixed for you.”

All Jessie really wanted was to disappear into her room and study the documents Alex had given her. She wanted to be alone to mull over what Alex had said. And hadn’t said.

There had been no pressure, which surprised her. But then pressure would have made her stubborn. Could they know that?

They. Her family. She wanted nothing more at the moment than to be back in her shop in Atlanta, among the books that had been her friends and family. Undemanding friends and family. But, like Alice, she was in a world she didn’t understand and where danger lurked in unknown and unexpected places.

But she’d already decided she wasn’t going to run again, and she meant it.

She had glanced over at Ross’s house, but she saw no movement. His truck wasn’t there, either. She felt a stab of disappointment that he hadn’t visited her, nor apparently been concerned enough to see how she was.

Sarah’s face was drawn, her expression apprehensive. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I wanted to go to the hospital this morning, but Alex said he needed to talk to you.”

“He explained everything about the trust,” Jessie said.

“Good. If you have any more questions, just ask me.”

Jessie had a bunch of them, but she didn’t expect to get any answers. And now was not the time. The elderly Halden was sitting in a chair, watching.

“Jessie,” he said, his face crumbling with concern.

She went over to him and sat on a footstool nearby. He held out a hand and took hers, patting it. “I heard what happened last night,” he said. “I am so sorry you were hurt.”

“At least I discovered I have a hard head,” she said with a smile. He did seem genuinely concerned about her.

“It’s a very pretty one,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

She started feeling mellow again. Certainly neither he nor Sarah had asked for her vote. They were concerned. About her. Not her vote, not some bonds that probably didn’t exist.

She found herself smiling, despite the continued pounding in her head. “You must be prejudiced.” And it felt rather nice that someone was prejudiced toward her.

Jessie felt herself relaxing. Ben was crowded next to her. Her uncle kept his hand on hers. Uncle. Aunt. Both words still felt strange, and yet they remained a siren’s song to her despite everything she now knew.

Alex had followed her inside and over to where she sat. “The doctor advised her to keep quiet and get some rest.” He took a prescription bottle out of his pocket and handed it to her. He had stopped at a pharmacy on the drive home. “And now I have to get back to the office.”

“Thank you,” Jessie said. “For driving me home.”

The qualification was obvious. He grinned, acknowledging it. “Let me know when you’re ready to sign those papers,” he said. “Or if you have any other questions.”

A sudden silence descended on the room.

Then Ben barked. He’d heard something outside. Ross. Just the thought made her heart beat faster and a flush rise to her cheeks. Even as niggling strands of thoughts wouldn’t go away.

She stood, her hand sliding from Halden’s grasp, and picked up her handbag and the file of papers Alex had given her. Her fingers tightened around them. “I will,” she said, trying not to notice that Sarah and Halden were obviously listening intently. She wanted to run for her room, for haven. In seconds, Ross might be coming up the steps outside. Into the room.

So why was she going into a panic?

Remember, you said you weren’t going to run again. Not from choices. Not from the Clementses. Not from Ross. No more running. No more shadows.

Besides, she felt rooted to the floor as Ben’s barks grew more excited.

Her gaze turned toward the door as it opened, and Ross stood there. Ben went running over to him, dancing around him with nearly as much enthusiasm as he had with her.

But Ross didn’t lean down and pet Ben. Instead, his gaze went directly to her and in their depths she saw something she didn’t want to see.

Guilt.