The Loner (35 page)

“We’ve had papers drawn up to merge Three Oaks and Bitter Creek,” Ren said into the silence.

Summer dropped her forehead with painful force onto the steering wheel. She would have made some exclamation of shock or dismay, except her throat had closed so tight she couldn’t speak. She lifted her head and stared at the other woman, the blood pounding in her temples, her whole body shaking.

“You might wonder why I’m telling you all this now, instead of waiting to give you this news when I’m with your father. The truth is, his heart isn’t as strong as he wants you to believe. I couldn’t take the chance that you’d upset him.”

“Upset
him
?” Summer croaked. “How could he? How could you both?”

“We love each other. We wanted the feud to end.”

“You think this is going to stop it?” Summer asked incredulously.

“There’s nothing left to fight over,” Ren said. “The land now belongs to all our children equally, the profits to be paid in even shares.”

Summer asked the question that was of primary interest to her. “Who’s going to run Bitter Creek?”

“Sam will continue running the cutting horse operation at Three Oaks. Your father will manage things at Bitter Creek, presuming he’s cleared of the murder charges against him.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“We haven’t considered that alternative.”

Summer was still dazed. Still unable to absorb Ren’s revelations.

“Maybe I should drive,” Ren suggested.

“I can manage.” Summer reached up with a shaking hand to turn the key in the ignition. She checked the sideview mirror, glanced over her shoulder as she’d been taught, then merged slowly and carefully onto the two-lane road.

“I’m sorry this has come as such a shock to you,” Ren said.

“Just not sorry enough to leave my father alone,” Summer said bitterly.

“As I said, we’ve loved each other for a long time. I know it’s difficult for you—”

“You bet it is!”

“I thought since you’ve fallen in love yourself, you might understand. You don’t choose who you love. And you can hide your feelings, but they never really go away.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” Summer said. But she understood exactly what Ren was saying. Summer hadn’t been able to love anyone but Billy Coburn. And she would love him till the day she died, whether he loved her back or not.

Understanding helped, but it wasn’t the same thing as acceptance. Acceptance was going to take a little longer. In the meantime, Summer couldn’t bring herself to be openly rude to Ren, not now that she was Blackjack’s wife.

When they arrived at the Castle, Ren followed her inside without a word. Summer turned to her and said,
“Why don’t we go upstairs to start? You can work in Trace’s bedroom. I need to call Billy.”

Summer used the phone in her own bedroom, closing the door so Ren wouldn’t hear if she broke into tears on the phone. “My father married Lauren Creed this afternoon,” she wailed as soon as Billy answered.

“I guess we should have seen it coming,” he said. “I have to admit I never thought they’d go through with it.”

“Ren said they’ve drawn up papers merging Three Oaks and Bitter Creek.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard. Where does that leave you?”

Without anything
, Summer thought. What she said was, “I don’t know. I wondered if you have time to come over and… and help with the search.”

She didn’t ask him to come and comfort her. She was afraid she might fall to pieces if all he offered her was friendly comfort, when what she wanted—needed—was his love.

“Emma and Sam broke up,” Billy said. “She’s pretty distraught, and I don’t want to leave her alone. If it’s all right, we’ll both come over. We’ll have to bring Will along. Will that be a problem?”

“No,” Summer said. “I’ve missed him.” And she had. Her life with Billy seemed all the more priceless now that she’d lost it. “Tell Emma I’m grateful for the extra help.”

While she waited for Billy to arrive, Summer searched her mother’s studio. It was the place where Eve Blackthorne had spent most of her time and seemed the most likely place where she’d bury her secret. Summer
started by checking the back of her mother’s final painting—the longhorn attacked by wolves—looking for some paper concealed in the frame. When she found nothing, she covered the disturbing canvas with a cloth.

The rest of her thorough search was equally fruitless and frustrating, so Summer welcomed the sound of Will’s laugh and Billy’s heavy bootsteps coming down the upstairs hall. She stepped beyond the door, crouched down on one knee, and opened her arms.

And Will came bounding into them. “Hi, Mer,” he said, which was the best he could do with her name.

“Hi, scamp,” she said, rising as she gave him a big hug and a raspberry on his neck.

Will giggled and wriggled in her arms, and she was struggling to keep from dropping him when Billy came to the rescue, enfolding both of them in his arms.

“I told Emma to start in the kitchen,” Billy said. “Not that I think your mother ever set foot in the place, but maybe because of that she figured we’d never look there.”

“So of course that’s where she’s hidden the note,” Summer finished for him. “How are we ever going to get through this house in two days?”

“One room at a time,” Billy said.

“I’ve been all through Momma’s studio and didn’t find a thing. All the time I was looking, I kept wondering if she’d left a message in invisible gesso that requires a secret decoder, like lemon juice, to make it appear on the canvas.”

Billy chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She was pretty devious.”

“Then I remind myself that she said I’d find what I’m looking for ‘right under my nose.’ That seems to eliminate invisible gesso.”

“And suggests it’s something you might smell. Which means something in the kitchen,” Billy said.

“Or a flower vase.”

“Or bathroom toiletries.”

“Or perfume!” Summer headed for her mother’s bedroom with Will in her arms and Billy on her heels. “Mother loved Chanel No. 5. She said it was a classic scent that would never go out of style.”

She set Will on the carpeted floor and searched her mother’s dressing table for the perfume she knew her mother used exclusively. “There’s something here!” she said excitedly, tearing away a piece of paper that was taped to the bottom of the perfume bottle.

Billy stood at her shoulder as she opened the tiny piece of paper and read,
“Too obvious. Keep Hunting. E.”

“Damn her!” Summer said, tearing the paper into tiny pieces. “She’s treating this like a game. A man’s life is at stake!”

They heard Emma yelling from the kitchen, “Billy, I’ve found something!”

Billy grabbed Will and they headed down the stairs on the run, joined by Ren, who’d heard Emma’s shout. They all arrived breathless in the kitchen to find Emma holding a note similar to the one Summer had found.

“I found it on the bottom of a pickle jar in the refrigerator.” Emma held it out to Summer. “It says, ‘
Don’t be so literal. E.
’”

“In other words,” Billy said, “what we’re looking for is something in plain sight, but not something that has a smell.”

“Unless this is all part of the game,” Summer said.

Billy cocked a questioning brow.

“These notes are easy to find and suggest we’re searching in the wrong place. What if she planned it so we give up when we find these useless notes and miss the real note, which turns out to be attached to a flower vase or… or…”

“Or in the barn, which is full of interesting smells,” Emma said.

“Oh, God. I haven’t even let myself think she might have hidden a note out there. It’s enormous. And there are just too many hiding places.”

“Let’s stick with the house for now,” Billy said.

“I’ve about finished with Trace’s room,” Ren said. “Where would you like me to look next?”

Summer rubbed a hand across her eyes. “The twins’ room, if you don’t mind. It’s next door to Trace’s.”

Ren left and headed back up the stairs.

“I still have more work to do here,” Emma said, turning away and opening the cupboard under the sink.

“Where do you want me?” Billy said.

“Bring Will, and you and I can search the library. Maybe Momma put her note in with some of Daddy’s papers.”

“Or in one of the thousand or so books in there,” Billy said.

Summer crossed the threshold of the library that also served as her father’s office, took one look at the immense wall of leather-bound tomes, and glanced
back at Billy, unable to keep the hopelessness from her eyes.

Billy set Will on the Turkish carpet, handed him a small silver globe from the desk, and said, “Have a ball, kid.” Then he turned and took Summer in his arms.

“Oh, Billy.” Her arms closed around his waist and she pressed her cheek against his chest, so she could hear his heartbeat. “I’m so afraid we’re not going to find any letter. And if we don’t—”

He tipped her chin up and kissed her gently on the mouth. “What happened to the indomitable spirit of the girl I fell in love with?”

Summer drew in a breath. She looked into Billy’s eyes, hoping he was at last returning the offer of love she’d made to him. But his dark eyes remained shuttered, and the word
love
didn’t come up again.

“It’s hard to be brave when there’s so much at risk,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “But that’s when you have to forge ahead, despite all the odds.”

Summer realized that was what Billy had done all his life. That was what had allowed him to survive under the harshest of circumstances. That was what made him a good father and a good friend and the man she loved.

“Thank you, Billy,” Summer said as she released him and stepped back.

“Ready to go to work?”

“Ready. Let’s start with the books.”

By Monday morning, when the grand jury convened, Summer and Billy and Emma and Ren had still found
nothing. Summer spent the endless days that followed desperately searching for her mother’s mysterious letter with anyone she could find to help. And the very long nights alone, wondering how long it would take the grand jury to hear the evidence against her father. And how quickly they’d move to indict him for murder.

Early on, she’d asked Billy to stay with her, but he’d said it would be too disruptive for Will to stay in a strange place, and he didn’t want to leave his son alone. And besides, his sister was often weepy and sad and he needed to be home with her. He also needed to spend time with his mother, whose health was failing, since she saw only the nurse Summer had provided—as promised—during the day.

Summer knew they were all excuses. If Billy had wanted to be with her, he could have managed it. But she didn’t argue. Maybe it was better this way.

Late Thursday, when there was still no word from the grand jury, Summer let herself hope they might not indict after all. When everyone who was helping with the search had gone, and the servants had left for the day, she sat down at the kitchen table, exhausted, and sipped at a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would help.

She tensed when the phone rang, afraid to answer it. After six rings, she leaped up and ran for it. “Hello?”

“Summer? It’s Uncle Harry. The grand jury indicted.”

“Oh, no!” she moaned. “No.”

“Your father will be going to court tomorrow morning to hear the indictment read and to make his plea.”

“I won’t be there,” Summer said. She had to stay home and search for the letter that might clear him. As she gripped the phone, she had the terrifying thought
that her mother had lied about the letter to give her hope, when there was none.

“I know he’d like to see you there,” Uncle Harry said.

Summer didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to sob into the phone. So she hung up.

She had one day left to find that goddamned note. Because tomorrow, her father would plead “Not guilty,” when his only defense was, “Of course we argued, Your Honor. All married couples do. But I didn’t murder my wife.”

She punched Billy’s number into the phone. She could hear Will crying in the background when Billy answered. “You have to come back. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

He must have heard the panic in her voice, because he said, “The grand jury indicted?”

“Yes. I have to find that letter, Billy. I need you here.”

“I’ll be right over,” he said. “Does Ren know?”

At that moment, Ren appeared at the screen door.

“She’s here now,” Summer said.

“See you soon,” Billy said and disconnected.

“Come in,” Summer called to Ren as she hung up the phone.

Ren stepped inside and let the screen door ease closed behind her. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

A week ago, this woman had been a stranger. But when Ren opened her arms offering comfort, Summer flew into them. She gripped Ren hard, sobbing against her shoulder. “What are we going to do?”

She felt Ren’s hands on her hair, comforting her in a way her mother never had. “We’re going to keep looking.”

Summer took a step back and swiped at her eyes. “Sorry about the tears.”

Ren took a step forward and gently brushed Summer’s hair back from her shoulder. “None of this is your fault, Summer.”

“Sure. Right.”

“I mean it. All of this was set in motion long before you were born.”

Summer hadn’t realized until Ren said something how guilty she’d felt. She wanted to believe her.

Ren smiled and said, “I know your father doesn’t blame you.”

“Really?”

Ren nodded.

“Billy’s coming over,” Summer said.

“We can use all the help we can get. Shall we start again upstairs?”

“I’ll search Momma’s studio again.”

“Guess I’ll head for Trace’s bedroom.”

Sometime later, Summer heard Billy hailing her and hurried downstairs to find him and Will—and Emma—in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” she asked Emma.

“Billy said you needed help. I thought maybe I could make us all some supper.”

Summer saw the kitchen table was already set. “How long have you been here?”

“I brought the chili and cornbread muffins I’d made for our dinner,” Emma said. She turned the muffins out of the warm tin into a basket and set them on the table.