Hawk's Way: Carter & Falcon. Joan Johnston

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СКАЧАТЬ then he was glad she was gone, because he wouldn’t have known what to say. He stared after her, remembering the look of vulnerability in her deep brown eyes when she had exposed her face.

      He was amazed even now at the strength of his reaction to the awful sight he had seen. He had felt fury at the destruction of something that had obviously once been quite beautiful. And pity for what it must be like to live with such a scar. And disgust that she had been reduced to begging for a spouse.

      If he was honest, he also had to admit that his curiosity was piqued. How had she been wounded so horribly? Why was she so anxious to find a husband? And why had she singled him out?

      Carter wondered if she remembered the one time they had met. It was a day he had never forgotten. He unconsciously rubbed his thigh. His thigh bone—the one he had broken saving her blasted cat—still ached when the weather was wet or cold. If he got tired enough, he sometimes limped. He never had liked cats much since.

      For other reasons that day was etched in his memory like brutally carved glass. The scene between his mother and father when his mom had arrived at the emergency room of the hospital had been loud and vicious. It was easy to see why his parents hadn’t stayed married. They had been in the process of a divorce when he was conceived, and he had been born before the divorce was final. His mother just hadn’t seen fit to inform his father of that fact. She had only brought him to Wyoming to meet his father because Wayne Prescott had accidentally found out about his son and demanded visitation rights.

      The incident at the Rimrock Ranch had convinced his mother that his father was not a fit custodian. That day had been the first and last he had seen of Wayne Prescott. So Carter remembered well his first meeting with Desiree Parrish. It had been a dark day in his life.

      Desiree was correct in her assumption that he wanted roots, but his wants and needs had culminated in a specific objective. He wanted the land that would have been his inheritance if his mother and father hadn’t divorced. He wanted King’s Castle.

      Unfortunately, on his father’s death the land had gone in equal shares to his father’s very young widow, Belinda Prescott, and his father’s bastard son, Faron Whitelaw. Carter had already made a generous offer to them for the land. They had promised him an answer tonight.

      He felt queasy at the thought that they might refuse him. Where would he go if he couldn’t stay at King’s Castle? Where would he find the solace he so desperately needed from the memories that relentlessly trailed him wherever he went? He had been running for so long—six years—that he had begun to wonder if there would ever be an end to it.

      As he stepped into the cab of his pickup and headed back to King’s Castle, he couldn’t help thinking about the offer Desiree Parrish had made to him. He remembered well the lush, grassy valleys to be found on the Rimrock. A river carved its way over the prairie, right through the ranch. The ranch house was a two-story, wooden-planked structure, simple but enduring. He had never seen the inside.

      To tell the truth, before he had discovered King’s Castle was on the market, he had inquired about purchasing the Rimrock. His agent had been told, in no uncertain terms, that the ranch was not for sale. So why had Desiree Parrish offered him half the place for his name on a marriage certificate? And how could she have believed that someone rich enough to buy the Rimrock, lock, stock and barrel, would bargain away his freedom for it?

      Unless she doesn’t know you’re rich.

      Carter found himself chuckling as he realized the image he must have presented to the young woman, unshaven, with his jeans frayed and his boots worn to a nub. Apparently his grandmother hadn’t told Desiree his true circumstances. He sobered abruptly. He had learned, to his sorrow, that wealth couldn’t buy happiness. In fact, it had been the source of great tragedy in his life.

      Carter felt the tension pounding behind his eyes. He never should have given in to his grandmother’s pleas for him to attend the Christmas pageant. Tonight the memories had come back to haunt him. Listening to those childish voices, seeing those angelic faces, had brought all the pain of betrayal and loss back into sharp focus. He wanted to forget the past, but he wasn’t sure it was possible. Guilt rode heavy on his shoulders. And regret. And anger.

      Carter stopped his truck in front of the ranch house at King’s Castle, a three-story stone structure with turrets and crenels, which his father had called The Castle. It didn’t fit this land anywhere near as well as the simple house on the Rimrock. He headed around back to the kitchen door, which he knew would be open. He found his way through the darkened house to the elegant parlor, where a fire still glowed in the grate. He stirred the ashes and added a log from the pile nearby. Finally, he poured himself a whiskey and settled into the chair near the fireplace, where he could empty his mind of the painful past and concentrate on the future.

      It was Desiree Parrish who filled his thoughts. He remembered how tiny, almost delicate, she had seemed next to his great size, how the snowflakes had gathered on her dark hair and eyelashes. Those memories were overshadowed by the look of fear in her huge brown eyes when she had revealed her scar to him. And by the way she had braced herself for his revulsion.

      It was true the scar was ugly, but Carter had shifted his gaze to her eyes, which had called out to him. He had seen a wounded spirit that was the equal of his own. It had taken a great deal of effort to resist reaching out to fold her protectively in his arms. Fortunately, she had run before he could do something so foolishly impulsive.

      Carter didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, when he heard Madelyn and Belinda Prescott and Faron Whitelaw returning. He felt his gut tighten, reminding him how much their answer mattered to him. He wanted this place; he needed this place, if he was ever to forget the past and go on with his life.

      Madelyn entered the room scolding. “What happened to you, young man? There were several more people I wanted you to meet, although I suppose we can have a party here and—”

      He had risen the instant she came into the room and was already there to help her out of her coat. “I’m not much interested in parties, Maddy.”

      “You should be,” she countered. “Why, a handsome young man like you ought to be settled down now, with babies and—”

      “I just want an answer from Belinda and Faron, one way or the other,” he said sharply, cutting her off again. He laid her coat across the sofa, which gave him a chance to focus his attention anywhere except on Belinda and Faron. He was afraid he might see their answer to his offer on their faces. He was afraid that answer would be no.

      At last, he forced himself to look at them. They were staring at each other, and he could feel the tension between them. His heart began to pound, sending blood rushing to his head, making him feel dizzy. He reached for his whiskey and swallowed a restoring gulp. He met his half brother’s eyes and said, “Well, what have you decided?”

      “Give us another few minutes,” Faron said. “Belinda and I have some things we need to discuss before we can give you an answer.” Faron quickly ushered Belinda out of the room and into the ranch office across the hall.

      Carter crossed to the bar so he would have his back to his grandmother. He didn’t want her to see the frustration—and fear—he felt. He poured a glass of port and turned to hand it to Madelyn. His casual calm was hard won. The hell of it was, he didn’t think he was fooling Madelyn for a minute.

      His grandmother settled herself on the sofa. Instead of launching into a thousand questions, she sipped her port and stared into the fire.

      He was too nervous to sit and too proud to let Madelyn see him pacing anxiously. He hooked СКАЧАТЬ