In His Brother's Place (12 page)

“Hoping that a nice vacation would bring the boys back together.” Raquel finished the thought.

“Jordan had some business and couldn’t get away until late January. My birthday was coming up on the twenty-third. Justin promised he’d be back to celebrate with me. The forecast was for clear weather all week, so they decided to save time and take Justin’s plane to the local airport in Heber City. If only...”

Angie gulped back tears. She’d been over those
ifs
so many times. If only they’d flown commercial to Salt Lake City. If only they’d gone earlier, or later. If only she hadn’t been so set on having Justin back in town for her birthday. If only...

“Don’t,
querida.
” Raquel laid a hand on her arm. “You can’t go back and change things. Just tell me the rest of the story.”

“There’s not much left to tell. On the night of the twenty-second, Justin took a cab to the airport alone, took off in his plane around midnight and crashed a few minutes later. That’s all I know.”

“So you don’t know what caused the crash?”

“The weather was clear, with a full moon. The plane was new, and Justin was certified for instrument flying at night. There shouldn’t have been a problem.”

“Why did he decide to go back alone, late at night? Have you ever asked Jordan?”

“It’s not something either of us wants to talk about. Most likely they weren’t getting along. Or maybe Jordan just wanted to stay longer. Maybe he’d met someone.” The cup trembled in Angie’s hand. “I’ve never brought it up—never wanted to.”

“What about the accident report? Did you ever ask to see it?”

“Why would I? Justin was dead. Knowing how it happened wouldn’t bring him back. And his family didn’t want any part of me.”

Rising, Angie carried her cup to the window. From there she could see her son on the patio, gleefully flinging snowballs with Ramon.

In a few years Lucas would be old enough to ask questions about his father’s death. Raquel was right. She needed more information.

“I don’t know where to start,” she said. “The accident report would’ve been filed in Utah, not here in New Mexico. Even if I found the right person to ask, why should they give me access to it?”

“They might not,” Raquel said. “But I’m betting Victor could get it for you.”

“Oh...that’s right!” Angie had forgotten that Raquel’s younger brother, Victor, was a police officer here in Santa Fe. He might have the authority to request information.

“I’ll call him for you.” Raquel had flipped open her cell phone and was already punching in the number. Angie heard the faint ring. Raquel made a thumbs-up sign as the call was answered.

“Victor? Listen, Cousin Angie is with me. She needs a little favor, and I’m hoping you can help her out. Here, I’ll put her on.”

* * *

The phone call ended with Victor’s promise to call Angie back when he had more information. An hour later Angie was on the road, with Lucas asleep in his car seat. She drove with her eyes fixed on the road, but her mind was whirling like a carousel.

Had she done the right thing, prying into the circumstances of Justin’s plane crash? Part of her wanted to believe Raquel—that it needed to be done. But she’d spent four years building a wall against the pain of Justin’s loss. How could she tear down that wall and expose herself to more hurt?

Did she really want to know why Justin had taken off in the dead of night and flown straight into a mountain? Did she want to know why Jordan had stayed behind?

Was she strong enough to face the truth?

Of course, the accident report wouldn’t give her the whole picture. Sooner or later, she knew, she would have to confront Jordan to get his account. But that was a conversation they’d need to have in person, which meant waiting until he came back.

By the time she arrived at the ranch Angie was worn out. But she’d promised to get some design suggestions to a client by the end of the day. Switching on her computer, she went to work.

Forty-five minutes later her cell phone rang. Her pulse rocketed. Would it be Jordan? Would he give her a chance to explain what he’d seen in the restaurant today?

But the caller wasn’t Jordan. It was Trevor, with a follow-up to their disastrous lunch. “I’d be happy to give you a rain check,” he said. “How about dinner one of these nights—without your son?”

Angie sighed. “As I told you, Trevor, Lucas is the man in my life right now. If you want to take me out alone, you’re welcome to ask again in about fifteen years.”

Trevor took the rejection decently. Afterward, the phone lay quiet on Angie’s desk. Its silence seemed to mock her. Jordan’s note had said he’d be in touch. But that was before the fiasco at the restaurant.

Blast the man, why didn’t he call? She needed to hear his voice. She needed a chance to clear up what had happened today. But as the hours passed, the leaden certainty grew that she wasn’t going to hear from him. True, she had his cell phone number. But calling him was out of the question. If Jordan wasn’t alone, she didn’t want to know.

“Do you love him?”
Raquel’s question taunted her. For a plethora of reasons, Jordan Cooper was the last man she should love. But right now the thought of being separated from him by a silly misunderstanding had her almost frantic.

Did she love him?

She was in no condition to answer that question.

She went through the motions of dinner and getting Lucas ready for bed. Once he was down, she curled in front of the big-screen TV in the den, watching mindless programs until she was too drowsy to keep her eyes open. Only then did she drag herself up the stairs, fall into bed and sink into merciful sleep.

The ringing phone woke her. Sunlight was streaming into the room. What time was it?

Her groping fingers found the phone on the nightstand and pressed the answer button. Would it be Jordan?

“Hullo?” she muttered.

“Angie, this is Victor.”

Her heart dropped. She sat up. “Did you find something?”

“I have the faxed report from Utah right here.” His voice sounded crisply professional. “The plane was pretty smashed up, as you can imagine.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Angie felt vaguely ill.

“Just one thing appeared to have caused the crash. According to the coroner’s report, when they checked the pilot’s blood the alcohol level was more than twice the legal limit.”

Angie stifled a groan. “You mean to say Justin had been drinking?”

“That’s right. The man was too drunk to walk a straight line, let alone fly a plane.”

Twelve

A
ngie huddled on the edge of the bed. Her crossed arms gripped her shoulders as if she were trying to keep herself from flying apart.

For almost four years she’d blamed herself for Justin’s death. She’d let others blame her, too. Why hadn’t anyone told her the truth?

Justin’s plane had crashed because he’d taken off in the middle of the night staggering, stupid drunk.

Who else would have known? Jordan, certainly. He’d been in Utah when the accident happened. But it did make some sense that he’d keep the truth to himself, wanting to spare his parents the pain of knowing how their son died.

Had he also wanted to spare her from thinking badly of Justin? Maybe so. And yet she still wished he’d told her the truth. At least then some of the awful burden of guilt would have lifted from her shoulders.

Rising, she opened the door into her son’s adjoining bedroom. Lucas was up and gone. The aromas from downstairs told her she’d find him in the kitchen, feasting on Marta’s pancakes.

Justin’s photograph smiled at her from the nightstand. As she studied the much-loved face with its confident grin, a cold bitterness welled up inside her.

In the years since his death, she’d started to forget Justin’s flaws. When she spoke of him to Lucas, she only told the good stories—the ones that painted Justin in the best light. But now she was reminded of the other side of his character. Yes, he had been handsome, charming, generous and sweet. But he’d also been impulsive, irresponsible and frustratingly reckless.

How could you?
The silent whisper rose from the depths of her loss.
How could you have done this to me...to Lucas...to all the people who loved you?

Turning away, she closed the door. Someday she would have to tell Lucas the truth about the father he idolized. But not for years. Not until he was old enough to understand. Jordan, however, was another matter.

How Justin had died was just one piece of the puzzle. What she needed to know was why he’d taken off drunk and why he’d been drinking in the first place. Only Jordan would have the answers to her questions.

Should she confront him on sight, demanding to know everything? That might not be the wisest approach. Jordan could close up or give her an evasive answer. Watching and waiting might teach her more about his motives and what he’d kept hidden. But being around him would already be difficult enough after the way she’d fallen into his arms and then run away. She wondered if he felt the same way—awkward and uncertain—and if that was why he hadn’t called.

Did she love him?

The question haunted her. She couldn’t deny she had feelings for Jordan. But how could she love the man who’d kept such a terrible secret from her? Jordan had let his family blame her for Justin’s death. He’d let her blame herself—when all the time he’d known the truth.

Even if she did love him, how could she forgive him?

* * *

Jordan showed up Monday afternoon after a three-day absence. Angie and Lucas were in the den watching TV when he walked in looking red-eyed and weary, as if he’d barely slept.

Had someone been keeping him awake at night? But what did it matter? Jordan was a free man. She had no claim on him.

“Uncle Jordan!” With a squeal of joy, Lucas bounded across the room to fling himself against Jordan’s legs. Jordan ruffled the boy’s hair, but his questioning gaze remained on Angie.

She willed her expression to freeze, revealing nothing as she switched off the TV.

“Mama and I taught Rudy to beg,” Lucas said. “Do you want to see? I can get Rudy. He’s outside.”

“In just a second.” Jordan sounded distracted, Angie thought. And he looked troubled.

“I brought Rudy a present to thank him for saving you.” Jordan reached into his jacket and brought out a small bag bearing the logo of an exclusive pet store. “You can open it for him,” he told Lucas.

“Wow!” Lucas drew out an elegant red leather collar with a silver tag attached to a metal ring. “It’s got writing on it. I can read the numbers—I learned how in my school. What else does it say?”

Jordan crouched, bringing him to eye level with Lucas. “This is Rudy’s name. And this is the phone number of the ranch. Now if he gets lost or runs away, the person who finds him can call us.”

“Rudy won’t run away. He loves me.”

“Yes, he does. And this tag will help people know he’s your dog. Oh, wait, there’s something else. Can you reach in this pocket and find it?”

Lucas thrust his hand into Jordan’s jacket. His eyes lit as he pulled out a braided leather leash, red to match the collar.

“Now you can walk Rudy in style,” Jordan said, rising.

“Can we put the collar on him now?”

“Sure. Get your coat.”

“It’s right here.” Lucas pulled on the jacket he’d flung over the chair earlier. Jordan’s eyes met Angie’s as the two of them went out.
We need to talk,
his expression said.

Fueled by nervous energy, Angie rose and began tidying the den, fluffing the pillows, straightening the rugs, picking up stray cups and carrying them to the kitchen. She’d just witnessed how the bond was growing between Lucas and Jordan. Was it a good thing, or was her precious son headed for heartbreak?

And what about her own heart? Maybe it would have been better if they’d never agreed to come here.

Jordan returned a few minutes later, alone. “Carlos is watching Lucas,” he said. “It’s sunny out. What do you say we go for a walk?”

Angie had hung her coat in the entry closet. She put it on, and they set out along the same trail they’d taken with the horses. An early winter thaw had moved in, melting the snow on the path. A flock of blackbirds swooped in elegant tracery against the azure sky.

They walked in silence for a few moments, Jordan’s hands thrust into his pockets, Angie’s eyes on the ground. Although the accident report had filled her thoughts for the past few days, seeing Jordan had reminded her of one more issue that stood between them—one that needed to be laid to rest. At last Angie spoke.

“Whatever you think you saw between me and Trevor, it was nothing. We ran into him in the Plaza, and he offered to treat us to lunch. After Lucas’s meltdown we went our separate ways. End of story—except for a phone call that went nowhere.”

Jordan exhaled. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Angie. You’re free to see anyone you like. But just so you’ll know, I ran into Trevor the next day. He told me what happened. As you said, end of story.”

Angie released a nervous laugh. “What a fiasco—especially when I spotted you with your mother.”

“Unfortunately, my mother didn’t think it was funny.”

“Oh?” Angie felt a shiver of premonition. “Is that why you’re looking so serious?”

He walked on for a few steps. The sun had vanished behind a cloud. The light breeze had taken on a chill.

“You know about my plan to get Lucas named as Justin’s heir to the trust,” he said.

“Of course.”

“This weekend, while I was in town, I had our family lawyer draw up the paperwork to make the change. Since my mother had met Lucas and seemed to accept him, I was hoping I could get her signature. She appeared to be leaning that way—until she saw you with Trevor in the restaurant.”

“Oh, no!” Angie halted in her tracks. “I can just imagine—”

“Can you? My mother has a suspicious nature, and she’s very protective of her family. Her new theory is that you and your so-called boyfriend are using Lucas to get your hands on Justin’s inheritance.”

“But that’s so wrong! If you feel that Lucas should be named Justin’s heir then that’s up to you, but for myself, I wouldn’t take a penny of Justin’s money! As for poor, innocent Trevor—”

“Hush, Angie.” He caught her hands, imprisoning them in his powerful fingers. “You don’t have to convince me. You’re one of the most trustworthy souls I’ve ever known. I’ve said as much to my mother. But she’s a stubborn woman, and once she sets her mind...”

He shook his head, releasing Angie’s hands. “There’s something else. Something I shouldn’t even tell you, but you need to know.”

“What’s that?” Was he finally going to come clean about Justin’s death?

“This morning my mother gave me an ultimatum. She told me that she’d sign the trust document on one condition—that you accept a generous check, give up all parental rights and let her adopt Lucas.”

Angie felt the blood draining from her face. The ground under her feet had turned to quicksand. “No!” The word exploded like a gunshot. “So help me God, I’d never give him up! Not for all the money in the world!”

“That’s pretty much what I told her—before I walked out.”

“Why does it all have to be about money?” She was trembling, barely able to stand. “Tell me that if you’re so smart, Jordan Cooper!”

“It isn’t about money. It’s about family. And whether my mother likes it or not, you and Lucas have become part of mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you both.” He yanked her close and kissed her hard.

Caught by surprise, Angie resisted for the space of a heartbeat. Then her mouth responded to his demanding lips. Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as their bodies blended.

Did she love him? This impossible man?

Lord help her, what was she going to do now?

He released her, his gaze concerned. Was there worse news to come?

“I’ve been racking my brain for a way to protect Lucas and ensure his place,” he said. “There’s one thing we could do—a sort of end run, if you will.”

“Tell me.”

He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You and I could get married, and I could adopt Lucas. He wouldn’t be Justin’s heir, but he’d be mine. In the end it would work out pretty much the same.”

Angie stared at him, thunderstruck. Was this Jordan’s idea of a proposal? What made him think she’d go along with such a calculating arrangement?

“I’d like to hope Lucas would be pleased,” Jordan said.

Still reeling, Angie found her voice. “But you don’t love me. I know you don’t.”

“I care for you, Angie. I want the best for you and Lucas. Isn’t that enough?”

At least he hadn’t lied. But was it enough? How could it be?

“And what about your mother?” she asked.

“She’d be upset at first. But she’d get used to the idea in time. As for you, you’d have the finest life money could buy—clothes, cars, travel, security...”

“Like your first wife?”

Shock flashed, then his eyes went cold. “That’s a low blow, Angie.”

“Is it?” She flung the words at him. “And you don’t think it’s a low blow to offer me a list of
things,
as if that was ever what I wanted? At least Justin loved me!”

His expression had gone rigid. Unable to face him any longer, Angie wheeled and raced back up the path toward the house.

* * *

Jordan watched her go, the wind fluttering her black hair as she fled. Fled from him.

Damn it, he’d meant well, asking Angie to marry him. He was desperate to do right by her and by his brother’s son. But the words had come out all wrong. If she thought he was the world’s biggest jackass he could hardly blame her.

He knew what she’d wanted to hear. She’d wanted him to say that he loved her—three words that had always stuck in his throat. If love was wanting to be with her, wanting to cherish and protect her, wanting to make a family with her and Lucas, then yes, he did love Angie.

But as long as past secrets lay between them, the words would have the ring of hypocrisy. Better not to say them at all than to have her fling them back in his face one day.

The full story of Justin’s death was known only to him. As long as he kept it locked inside, Justin’s shining memory would be safe. Let it out, and the truth would seep like venom through his family. No one would be immune—not his mother, not Angie, not even Lucas.

On the drive home, he’d weighed the wisdom of sharing his secret with Angie. By the time he’d turned the car into the ranch gate, he’d concluded that he couldn’t take the risk.

Years ago he’d committed a Chinese proverb to memory—
A man is a slave to what he says and a master of what he keeps to himself.
He’d recalled that proverb today. Tell the story just once and the consequences would spread like wildfire, beyond his control.

There was no other way. He would have to bury the truth forever. It would cease to exist, except in the black depths of his heart where he hid his own guilt from those who needed him.

He hadn’t given up on Angie. If he could convince her to marry him, he would do his best to be a loving husband, and a caring father.

But even then, the secret would never set him free.

* * *

Dinner had been an ordeal. Lucas had kept up an animated chat with Jordan while Angie picked at her grilled chicken. She’d been relieved when the meal ended and she could flee upstairs to get her son ready for bed.

While the tub filled with bubbles and warm water, she laid out clean pajamas and tomorrow’s school clothes. Lucas played in the bath until she was ready to wash his hair.

“Did Rudy like his new collar and leash?” she asked, lathering the baby shampoo.

“He wagged his tail a lot.” Lucas tilted his head back so she could rinse his hair. “Can we live here forever, Mama?” he asked.

Pain jerked around Angie’s heart. Since her clash with Jordan she’d been weighing her options. None of them were good, but after all that had happened here how could she not plan to leave?

“Forever’s a long time, Lucas,” she said. “Sometimes things have to change.”

“Why?” He looked ready to burst into tears. “I want this to be our home. I want Uncle Jordan to be my new daddy.”

Angie’s throat tightened. “We’ll talk about that later,” she said, boosting her son onto the mat. He was quiet while she toweled him dry. But she knew she wasn’t in the clear when, dressed in his pajamas, Lucas knelt on the rug to say his prayers.

“Bless my mama,” he said. “Bless Rudy. Bless Uncle Jordan that he’ll want to be my daddy. Bless us that we can live here forever. Amen.” He looked up with a little smile that suggested everything was well in hand. “Good night, Mama.”