Erin's Way (5 page)

“That was different, Erin. Tabby almost died. She was recovering from a serious accident.”

Erin leaned the fork against the wall and turned to look at her brother. She tilted her cap back and simply stared at him. He looked imposing, successful. He looked like a younger version of their father. She wondered if his tongue was as sharp and suspected it could wound exactly like Stoner’s.

Erin wasn’t ready to face that.

“I’m not ready to go. I’m not done yet. Sam rode out to check the herd in the back pasture. I said I would finish this and I will.”

But Sam rode back in at that point, his cheeks flushed from the cold. As Evan turned, Erin quietly returned to work. She heard Sam dismount and lead his mare into the barn. His dark gaze narrowed as it shifted from her to Evan.

“You’ve done enough today, Erin,” Sam commented. “Grab your things and I’ll run you and Evan over to the Homestead.”

Erin wanted to tell him no. She wasn’t ready for this, but she wouldn’t beg.

Sam’s gaze gentled as he continued quietly and evenly. “You have to see them, Erin, sooner or later.”

Her chin rose. “You’re not my therapist.”

Sam ignored her. “I have to go to town anyway before the farm store closes, so I can get posts and boards to start making permanent repairs to my fence now that the tow truck’s pulled your rental out.” Sam stepped up and took the pitchfork from her. “I took the rest of your joint out of the ashtray. Get your stuff, Erin. Go home. I said you could work here…not live here.”

She hated the way he saw right to her vulnerabilities. He’d always been able to do that.

“Who’d want to live with you anyway?” she snapped at Sam, “a middle-aged bachelor with the beginnings of a paunch.” She pushed at him. “Get the hell out of my way, you goon.”

She stomped past him and Evan and stopped just outside the barn to lean against the wall. Man, she didn’t want to leave Sam’s place. Just the thought of facing the rest of her family made her nearly sick.

From inside the barn, she could hear Evan and Sam. No doubt they thought she was long gone. Erin knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but as she’d learned the hard way, sometimes a person could learn valuable information that way. Yeah, like Andre wanting to kill her.

“You know, Evan,” Sam said from inside the barn, “I’ve never cared for your father much, but right now I almost feel sorry for him.” Erin blinked at the stab of pain his words caused. After a pause, Sam asked, “Am I getting a paunch?”

“Hardly,” Evan said, with a snicker, then continued, “Erin’s always had great aim with her verbal arrows. Hitting at the heart of others’ insecurities is a great diversionary tactic. I always assumed she did it to keep people from looking too closely at all of her less than desirable activities, but now I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It just seems like there’s more to her coming home.”

There sure as hell was, but Erin didn’t want to share that. She should leave. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, but she just couldn’t seem to break away and go to the house.

“I am a bit concerned about her going back, Ev. The old Stoner would rip her to shreds. What’s the new and improved one likely to do?”

“Hell if I know. She’s been a thorn in everyone’s side for years. You’ve seen that. I remember my parents missed my first varsity basketball game because Erin needed to go to the emergency room after she jumped from the hayloft onto the trampoline she’d pulled underneath the loft door and bounced off onto her head. Then at the party Stoner threw after I graduated law school, she turned up high as a kite. You wonder what the new Stoner will do? I have no clue, bro.”

Erin crept toward the house. She shouldn’t have stayed to listen. As she changed clothes and gathered her things, Evan’s words kept echoing in her brain. If that was the way everyone thought about her, then she had made a mistake in coming home, a very bad mistake.

Sam and Evan were waiting for her. Without acknowledging either one of them, Erin climbed into Sam’s truck. She sat silently in the back seat with her purse and her duffel bag clutched close to her side and glanced longingly out the window at Sam’s receding barnyard. She’d had a decent time this morning feeding and brushing horses. Even mucking out stalls. It had reminded her of spending time around the barn at home when she was little. It was the one place she’d felt at home. Animals didn’t judge.

As much as it shamed her to admit it, she was scared to go back to Richardson Homestead. She was even more frightened to face her family. They had always intimidated her. Her brilliant, successful father and her mother, the perfect hostess, Evan with his brains and his athletic ability, and now there was Tabitha too. A new sister she’d barely even met who was a freaking artistic genius. Then there was her. Not much on her resume to brag about. Oh, wait, she did have a sadistic drug runner wanting to kill her.

“I’ll need you at my place at six-thirty tomorrow morning.” Sam caught her gaze in the rearview mirror as he spoke, and Erin quickly masked the insecurity and uncertainty she was sure must be showing on her face. “We’ll be riding, so I can show you what you’ll need to do during the week.” He paused until she reluctantly met his gaze again. “Don’t be late, Erin,” he added quietly.

Her chin jerked up. “I’ll be there.” She wanted to beg him to let her stay, but his expression was closed, and his eyes focused on the road once more.

They turned up the drive to the big brick house on the hill, and Erin swallowed nervously. As soon as the truck stopped, she jumped out with her oversize purse and her duffel bag clattering behind her. With a nod to Evan, Sam turned the truck around and was off. She stared after him until Evan moved over to her.

“Here, let me take your bag into the guesthouse for you.” He reached for it, but she jerked away.

“I’ve got it,” she snapped, then bit her lip. “Just—just show me where to put it,” she added more quietly.

Evan led the way into the guesthouse. Erin looked around with curiosity. It had been redecorated from what she remembered, but it was still essentially the same, a great room and kitchenette downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. She set her duffel bag on the couch and took off her jacket.

“Do I bow before the king now or later?” she asked sarcastically.

Evan tilted his head. “There’s no need to bow, but it might be nice if you came in to say hello to Mother and Dad. Jenny’s here too with our son, Peter.”

Erin took a shaky breath and looked around. It had seemed so simple when she was in the Virgin Islands. Come home. There would be shelter even if there was no comfort. But now she had to face her family. Maybe it would have been just as easy to take her chances in the islands. “Is there any booze in here? I could use a drink.”

“It’s eleven in the morning, Erin,” Evan said softly. “How badly do you need a drink?”

Her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a freaking alcoholic, Evan, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Alcohol, pot, drugs? It doesn’t appear to matter much to you which one, does it?”

Erin’s head jerked back at the distaste bleeding through his tone. Just because he was her brother, it didn’t give him the right to look down on her. She glared at him. “You have no idea. You were always so perfect. Nothing I did could ever be as perfect as you.” She brushed past him. “Let’s get this over with. Maybe then I can figure out how long it will be before I get kicked out again.”

Evan grabbed her arm. “They’ve never kicked you out.”

She spun on him, effectively breaking his hold and putting herself out of his reach. Now Evan’s eyes narrowed as he studied her defensive stance. Erin worked to control her breathing. That had been a mistake, a huge overreaction. She needed to be careful if she was going to keep her business to herself.

When he relaxed, so did she. She eyed him from his cashmere sweater to his neat khakis. “No, you’re right, Evan. They never kicked me out. They froze me out. It got so freaking cold I had to go clear to the Caribbean to thaw out.”

“Then why the hell did you come back?” he snapped.

“That’s my business!”

She turned and left, digging her hands into the tight pockets of her hip hugger jeans and hunching her shoulders in an attempt to make her breasts appear smaller. All she wanted was to feel safe, to feel like someone cared. Sam’s frowning face came to mind, but she forced it away. He’d made it plain years ago and again last night that he didn’t want her.

* * * *

Stoner had ushered everyone to his study to wait for Erin and Evan to appear. Catherine and Jenny sat on the couch, keeping an eye on Peter, who played on a blanket on the floor, giggling as he rolled around. Stoner watched them with half a glance while keeping an eye on the doorway at the same time.

Evan appeared first. For a heartbeat, pain stabbed Stoner’s heart, so sure was he that Evan would tell them Erin had bolted again. Then she stepped from behind her older brother, a petite woman who stood only chest high to him. Her hair was short and spiky, like it had been last fall, but Stoner was relieved to see it no longer had electric blue highlights on top, and now her face was almost completely devoid of makeup. In an odd way, it made her large, blue-gray eyes stand out even more against her porcelain pale skin than the dark, heavy eye makeup she’d worn when she’d shown up at Tabby’s party.

For a fraction of a second, he was reminded of a doe in that instant she senses danger, but has yet to break and run. The minute Stoner stood, though, the impression disappeared. Erin’s chin jutted belligerently, and her eyes narrowed.

“How are you this morning?” Stoner asked carefully as he crossed the room to her, uncertain of her reaction. “Did Sam take care of your head?”

“Yes.”

She stiffened when he bent to kiss her, and Stoner straightened awkwardly. Inside he sighed. Why the hell had she come here when she so obviously didn’t want to? He had never understood her, and it seemed he still didn’t. Even a couple of years ago, he would have said that aloud, but circumstances had mellowed him.

“Come in,” he invited instead. “Say hello to your mother and Jenny. You remember Jenny, don’t you?”

Erin nodded and swallowed as her eyes met her mother’s.

“Mama.”

Catherine held her arms open to her daughter, and Erin moved as gracefully as a cat to her mother’s side, briefly embraced her, then looked at Jenny warily.

Jenny smiled at her and laughed. “You have no idea how relieved I am to see someone in this family who does not tower over me.”

Erin grinned, and even though it was tinged with anxiety, it was the most relaxed she had looked since she walked into the room. Stoner took a deep breath. Maybe everything would be all right.

“It can be overpowering.” Erin’s glance slid to the baby, and now she smiled genuinely for the first time. “He’s cute. How old is he?”

“Five months,” Jenny said, “and already has teeth.”

At his mother’s voice, Peter stopped what he was doing and looked at them both with a big smile, showing off two top teeth.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Erin shook her head, as she eyed everyone else awkwardly. “Could—could I just play with him?”

Stoner watched as his daughter and daughter-in-law sat next to Peter and teased him with toys to make him laugh and wave his arms and legs in delight. He had never seen such a soft expression on Erin’s face. The baby calmed her down in some way, so that she didn’t prowl like a nervous cat, something she had done for what felt like forever.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Catherine asked since everyone else had either coffee or tea. Erin’s eyes darted to the brandy decanter and away.

“No.” Her voice was tight. Suddenly, she was on her feet again. She moved restlessly around the room. “I—I’m sorry about last night, D—daddy. I swerved to avoid hitting a deer. I told Sam I’ll work off what I owe him for the fence. He mentioned he needed help on the farm, so I’m working there.”

“You’re working as a farm hand?” Catherine asked softly. She tried to keep her tone noncommittal, but the implication slipped through that a Richardson did not do that. Stoner held his breath. Erin stopped in the middle of the room, and Stoner could almost see the tension vibrate through her. God! She was as taut as a bowstring. She smiled jerkily.

“I’ll have to be up and about early in the mornings. If—if that’s not convenient, I—I’m sure I can find a place to stay.”

“For God’s sake, Erin,” Stoner finally exploded. “You’re family, not some damn guest.”

Her gaze was cool as it rested on him. “Am I?” The bitterness in those two words was there for everyone to hear. It slammed into Stoner with all the force of a slap. Did she really feel that way?

Catherine rose and approached her daughter, but all of them could see the way Erin stiffened at the contact. “Of course you’re family, honey. And you’re welcome to stay in the guesthouse for as long as you wish.”

Silence stretched. Stoner pressed his lips together as Erin’s expression subtly altered. It was as if she withdrew from them, though she hadn’t moved at all. The shaft of pain that speared through him made him take a step back. He had never been able to reach her, and he didn’t understand why.

Erin blinked a couple of times as though she was at a loss for words. Maybe putting her in the guesthouse had been a mistake. Her expression gave away nothing as she finally took a deep breath and looked around the room.

The instant she spotted Tabby’s new portrait of him, she moved toward it. This time Stoner saw the flash of emotion in her eyes—amazement followed quickly by jealousy. He wondered at that. Certainly, the painting portrayed him in a way few people had seen him. Even Stoner had difficulty relating the image of the pleasantly relaxed man intent on the table on which he was working, his hands setting minute inlay into its surface, with the cold man he’d often felt himself to be.

“This must be the painting Tabby did.” She pasted a smile on her face. “She’s very talented.”

Stoner stood behind her but didn’t touch her. He wanted to. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but the keep-off signals his daughter was throwing out were almost tangible.