Tracie Peterson - [Desert Roses 01] (22 page)

“My point exactly,” Valerie said, taking hold of Luke’s hand. “You must help me.”

“I don’t understand.” “I want to hire you. I want you to be Daddy’s bodyguard.” “Why me?” Luke asked, pulling away. He didn’t want to appear rude, but her touch was making him very uncomfortable. “I’ve got a busted wrist. I’m hardly going to be able to fight off ruthless attacks.”

“You won’t be in that cast forever. You don’t even need a sling anymore, so I know it must be healing fast. You’re a good man, Luke. You have scruples. That’s not something you often see, especially in political arenas. If I hired you to watch over Daddy, I know you’d do the job without reservation. You’d give it your all.”

Luke managed to move away from her enough to raise his casted left arm. “I’ll be wearing this for weeks. I’m telling you, even if I wanted the job, I wouldn’t be of any use to you or your father.”

“Don’t say that. You’re still strong and capable,” she gushed, moving toward him again. This time she threw herself against him and wrapped him in her embrace. “Please, Luke. I need you to do this for me. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to Daddy.”

Luke pushed her back none too gently. “That’s hardly called for, Miss Winthrop.”

She started to cry again. “Don’t be cruel. I’m not trying to make a scene, I simply don’t want anything to happen to my father.” She paused and looked at him quite soberly. “I thought you were a Christian. Aren’t Christians supposed to be kind to people? Aren’t they supposed to lend a helping hand and offer comfort?”

“I suppose they are,” Luke said, feeling caught between the canyon and her wiles. “But that doesn’t mean I must
sacrifice a job I love simply because you ask me to. I’m trying to show you Christian charity just by talking with you and listening to your concerns. But you’re making this really difficult. People in my world don’t just throw themselves all over another person. You seem to make a practice of it, and I don’t like it.”

“You just don’t care,” she said, sobbing into her handkerchief. “I have no one who cares.”

“What about Mr. Harper? You two are supposed to marry, aren’t you?”

Valerie shook her head. “I don’t want to marry him. I don’t trust him. Joel is deceptive and devious. He does all sorts of underhanded things and threatens me all the time. I don’t dare talk to him about this, for he might very well be in on the plan to harm my father.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. He looked at the woman in front of him, praying to discern if she lied. “There’s a plan? Do you have proof?”

Valerie wiped her eyes once again. “No, but I know something’s going on nevertheless.”

“How?” “There have been people in and around my father—around his room—who have no purpose being there. Daddy is always drawing the coattail crowd.”

“The coattail crowd?” Luke questioned. “You know, those people who plan to make it big or get rich by riding his coattails to the top. Daddy is so giving, so generous, he never sees harm until it’s too late. I’ve heard rumors and—”

“Look, you can’t go acting on rumors,” Luke interjected. “If you don’t have proof, the authorities aren’t going to be able to help you.”

“But I’m not going to the authorities. I’ve come to you.” Luke shook his head and started back up the path. “You need to talk to the authorities. If there is a problem, they’re
the ones who can help keep your father out of trouble. They can even post a guard on him while he’s here at the canyon.”

“Please don’t leave me, Luke. Please don’t say no. Don’t leave me all alone in this.”

Luke stopped and looked at her for a moment. She seemed so delicate, so vulnerable and lost. “Miss Winthrop, if you would turn to God, you would find you’re never alone. Pray about this and ask His guidance. God will surely show you what to do.”

“I don’t need religion—I need you.” “No, you don’t. You hardly even know me,” Luke replied firmly.

“But I’d like to.” “Miss Winthrop, I can’t help you, except to pray for you.” He didn’t know if it was God’s stirring or his own personal discomfort, but Luke felt an overwhelming need to escape. “Good day,” he added rather abruptly.

Luke walked away, leaving the crying woman to her own devices. He wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer, and the pricking of his conscience seemed a foreboding of things to come.

The Winthrops were bad news for the entire area. He didn’t want to get involved with them on any business or personal level, yet they seemed to impose themselves on people. They represented everything Luke disliked: power, money, fame, and politics. They were of the world. They were the world.

The Winthrops and their kind used people. Used them no matter the cost. If a person proved useful, they were brought in as the best of friends. Once they’d served their purpose, however, and that person was no longer needed, they were disposed of as neatly as . . . Luke stopped in his thoughts.

“As neatly as Rufus Keegan was pushed over the edge,” he murmured.

The slender build of Valerie Winthrop came to mind. She’d admitted to spending part of the evening with Keegan. Maybe she knew something. After all, it was entirely possible that,
short of the confrontation that sent Keegan to his death, Valerie Winthrop was the last person to speak to him.

“But she’d probably only lie,” Luke surmised. He hated to judge her harshly, but each encounter with her seemed to bring trouble.

Luke contrasted her to Alexandria Keegan. Alex’s gentle spirit and quiet, unassuming manners made Luke feel protective and loving. Valerie Winthrop just irritated him.

The need to see Alex, to hold her and tell her how he felt, grew stronger with each passing moment. Luke knew it was poor timing given the situation, but each time he had put off telling her of his love, things only seemed to get worse.

“I’d like a few words with you, Mr. Toland.”

Luke looked up to greet the stern expression of the ranger who’d tried to talk to Alex the night before. His counterparts had already asked Luke a couple dozen questions related to Rufus Keegan’s death, but he had figured they were far from done.

“Sure,” Luke said nodding. “What do you want to know?” The man’s eyes narrowed. “Did you have any reason to want Rufus Keegan dead?”

Valerie Winthrop had never felt more alone in her life. She watched Luke walk away and hook up with another man. No doubt another friend—a part of his life at the Grand Canyon.

It seemed everyone had someone they could trust—but she had no one. Even her own father was so focused on his campaign and his desire for the presidency that he couldn’t see anything else. Oh, she knew he loved her, but she was something more ornamental than useful in his eyes. Her father trusted her to host his dinner parties, but not to pick her own husband. Her father had never denied her anything, but on the issue of Joel Harper he seemed blind and deaf.

Drying her eyes, Valerie looked out over the canyon. It would be easy enough to jump to her death. Die in the flash
of a moment—like Rufus Keegan. The thought of him dying sent chills up her spine. She remembered his suggestions the night before during their walk along the rim. She could almost recollect the feel of his hands upon her—touching her, demanding things of her she didn’t want to give. She shuddered and refused to think about it. There was nothing she could do about it now.

She had thought her lie about someone trying to kill her father would cause Luke to care about her. She’d thought that if her looks couldn’t bring him to his knees, then perhaps the idea of being her rescuer and protector would. But Luke hadn’t been interested in this role either. He puzzled her like no other man ever had. Usually all she had to do was bat her eyelashes or wave her money and men were at her beck and call.

Even as she thought this, the idea left her more lonely than ever. Would anyone ever love and care about her—for herself? She’d played so many games acting the coquette, the wild rebel, the sweet, attentive daughter. She wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. Her life in Charlotte was one of privilege and elegance. She was a daughter of the South—highly respected, belonging to that elite world of modern southern belles.

She’d been born to this, taking her mother’s place in society, serving as she had served. Valerie generally saved her wild behavior for times when she was away from her home. New Yorkers didn’t care how she conducted herself. They didn’t mind her wearing scandalous clothes and being seen entering speakeasies. They turned a blind eye to her flirtations and drinking.

Valerie only wished she could turn a blind eye to herself. She didn’t like herself very much. For all the confidence of her position, somewhere along the way Valerie had lost sight of the truth.

“I have no clue as to what the truth is anymore,” she whispered.

Luke had said she needed God, but Valerie had tried church and religion. It left her hopeless and burdened with its many rules and regulations. She could never hope to be the pure and innocent person that religion demanded. She could never be good enough—not with her problems and life-style.

There has to be something else
, she thought.
Something more than this emptiness
. The vast emptiness of the canyon seemed to mirror how she felt inside. It would take an awful lot to fill up the Grand Canyon, but surely that would be simple compared to Valerie trying to fill the hole in her heart.

God would be big enough to fill that space
, she thought, then quickly pushed the thought aside.

Ignoring the acquaintances who looked her way, Valerie went back to her suite on the third floor of El Tovar. She had no desire to mingle and make small talk. Luke’s words continued to haunt her—his talk about how a person needed to know where they stood with God. But how was a person to know something so vast as that? It wasn’t as if God would come down and speak to a person face-to-face. Was it?

She thought of the whiskey she’d hidden in her dresser. The idea of drinking herself into oblivion appealed to her greatly. Let them all dine and party without her. She wasn’t feeling well. Her father or Joel could make her excuses. The alcohol wouldn’t solve her problems, but it would make them go away for at least a few hours. Or rather, it would make her no longer care about their existence.

Entering her room, she immediately locked the door behind her. She wanted no one to disturb her.

“I saw you with Toland,” Joel stated.

Valerie turned with a start, her hand clasping the collar of her dress. “How did you get in here?”

“That’s unimportant,” he said, getting up from the bedside chair. “What is important is that I saw you with Toland just now.”

“So what?” Valerie said, trying hard to be brave. “I happened upon him while I was walking and we talked.”

“Is that what you call it when you wrap yourself around someone?”

Valerie recognized his jealousy. It was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost. But the anger in his expression drew her up short. “I’ve been greatly upset since last night’s events. Not that I would expect you to understand.”

Joel watched her with an odd sort of expression, one which Valerie found completely unnerving. He wore his dark brown suit, the one she’d helped him pick out in Charleston. The tie was also one she’d helped him choose. His entire appearance, quality through and through, should have pleased her, but instead it left her feeling cold and disinterested. Next to a man like Luke Toland, Joel seemed boring and lifeless.

“Things have gotten out of control,” Joel announced, crossing the room to look out her window. “Unscheduled events are taking place, and it’s causing me a great deal of trouble.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Valerie said, taking off her straw hat. She wished Joel would simply leave her alone but knew full well he’d come with something or someone on his mind. The sooner he got it out for her consideration, the better off they’d both be. “Maybe you should explain,” she finally added, coming hesitantly to sit on the edge of her bed. She hoped her calm approach would soothe him.

“This election means everything to me. To your father as well,” he said, turning from the window. “There is a great deal at stake, and no one will be allowed to ruin that. Not the Keegans. Not John Davis or Bradley Jastrow. Not even you.” He lowered his voice a bit before adding, “Especially not you.”

Fear washed over her, and the loneliness she’d felt earlier seemed to magnify. “Why don’t we go downstairs for a bit of lunch?” she suggested. “You can tell me all about this over one of those lovely salads.” She got to her feet, but Joel quickly crossed the room and stood between her and the door.

“You aren’t going anywhere, my dear. There is much we
need to consider—to take charge of. I’m going to need your help in order to see my plans to completion. You do want to see your father elected as president, don’t you?”

Valerie bit her lower lip and backed up a step. “It’s hardly proper for us to discuss it here.”

“Why not? I’m sure you’ve had many other men here for . . . discussions.”

“That’s not true,” Valerie countered. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“But we’re engaged, my dear. Tomorrow night we’ll make it official. Surely there can be no harm.” He smiled in that self-confident manner she’d come to hate.