Ladd Haven (30 page)

“
Are they? I told you not to
go see him because he hadn’t changed. My daddy said he came back
from Nashville because of problems at work. Because he quit, same
as Troy.”

Working off Felicity’s energy, Blue
shook her mane as though irritated, rearing several steps. “I can’t
believe you’re linking the two together like that,” she said,
pulling her mare under control. “Troy isn’t an abuser. He’s
passionate. There’s a difference.”

“
Yes, and speaking of
passion, look where it got your parents. They thought they knew
what they were doing when they were young but they didn’t. Your
daddy let his emotions get the best of him and hit her.”

Felicity stared at him. “How do you
excuse his behavior as an adult?”

Travis almost smiled but seemed to hold
himself in check. “He never learned the lesson when he was young.
His parents let him get away with stuff and now look at him. It’s
exactly my point about Troy. That’s why I’m right about
him.”

Anger and disbelief cascaded in her
heart, swirling around rocks and boulders of resentment. That’s
what this was about—Travis being right. Felicity tugged abruptly on
the reins and squeezed her legs against Blue.

“
Hey—where are you
going?”

“
Home.” Felicity urged Blue
along the riverside terrain as quickly as she could, refusing to
look back. She didn’t want to see Travis. Didn’t want to speak to
him. If he couldn’t see the good in people, the potential, then
maybe he wasn’t the guy for her.

“
Felicity!” he called out to
her. “Don’t be like that!”

“
Like what?” she shouted
back. “Someone with a different viewpoint than yours? Someone who
believes enough in people to give them a second chance?”

Travis caught up with her and pleaded,
“C’mon, Felicity. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you
mad.”

Since when was it a bad thing to
believe in people? Since when did it make her gullible and
naïve?

Or stupid. That’s how Travis was making
her feel. Ignorant, as if she didn’t know people. Well, he was
wrong. People had good inside them. Sometimes it was hidden but it
was there. People could change. If only someone close would put a
little faith in them, let them know they cared, it would allow the
individual to reveal their sweeter side. Take her Uncle Ernie. He
was crusty on the outside as week-old bread, but on the inside he
was soft and kind. He’d never said a cross word to her, never
raised his voice in anger. For years he’d been dead set against
giving the property to her or her mother, but in the end he did. He
changed his mind. He changed his heart and everything else changed
right along with it.

Timing her body’s movements with Blue
as she trotted, Felicity ignored the pound of hooves close on her
tail. Travis didn’t get it, but he didn’t want to get it. Troy
could change. He’d changed his heart because of Casey and he could
change his behavior, too. Felicity believed in him. Casey believed
in him. Why didn’t Travis?

In a fit of anger, she pulled Blue to a
stop. Travis’ horse yanked up its head as it detoured to avoid
running into her. “Maybe I chose the wrong brother,” she snapped.
“Maybe Casey’s the smart one and I’m the loser.”

Travis stood stunned, his mouth agape.
His horse snorted. “Felicity, you don’t mean that.”

“
Don’t I?”

Hurt thrashed in his dark gaze,
underscored by the torrent of whitewater churning in the river. A
set of waterfalls rose lay ahead, falls they used to frequent as
youngsters. The animal beneath Travis side-stepped impatiently as
he said, “You’re mad, is all. You’re lashing out.”

“
What I
am
is tired of you telling me what I
think and feel all the time. For once in your life maybe you should
put a cork in it.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

As they made the drive into the Foster
homestead, lines of wood board fencing glimmered, enameled from a
late afternoon sun. This was Cal’s family home, hills and mountains
that stirred fond memories. Born and raised here, he and his
brothers spent many a day riding this land, galloping far and wide,
entertaining girls from school with elaborate picnics supplied by
their housekeeper Thelma, evading trouble when one of them shot his
mouth off one too many times. Casting his glance to the distant
ridge, rounded mounds of green that were the Appalachians, he
recalled the first time he’d declared his love for a girl. Melanie
Lynn Barker. Warm memories cooled as the house came into view. Cal
tensed. This wasn’t a pleasure visit. More like a
showdown.

When he’d called ahead, his brother
Beau informed him that Jack was in the house. He didn’t elaborate.
He didn’t say what decisions had been made. The two brothers kept
it short and sweet. Neither Beau nor Cal wanted to admit their
brother was a loser, but they wouldn’t defend him. Only their
mother was prepared to shelter a man gone wrong.

“
That’s his car.” Cal
pointed to the black truck parked in front of the house.

Nick nodded that he’d heard, circled
around the drive. Malcolm looked to him and said, “We keep this to
a minimum. No raised voices, no fists. We say our piece and move
on.”

Turning to face his partner, Nick
erupted into a chuckle. “Are you worried I’m going to take him out
back and whoop him?”

Cal noted the mocking tone with a
measure of relief. Nick was kidding. He was in control. Last thing
they needed was an ugly confrontation. Cal might not agree with his
mother’s position with regard to Jack, but she was still his
mother. Upsetting her was not on his agenda.

“
I want to be clear on our
goal,” Malcolm said. “We’re here to inform him of our intentions
with regard to Troy Parker’s defense and Delaney’s subsequent
charges, should he prove resistant.”

Nick flashed a sardonic smile. “I
guarantee he’ll prove resistant.”

Cal agreed.

“
That may be,” Malcolm
returned evenly, “but we have too much riding on this for you to
jeopardize it with your personal feelings.”

Nick tossed the truck gear into park.
“You know he deserves a square one across the jaw.”

“
I don’t disagree. I’m only
clarifying that this is not the time or place. Are we
clear?”

Cal marveled at the way Malcolm handled
Nick, as though he were speaking to a child and not the head of an
international hotel chain.

Nick laughed. “Oh, we’re clear all
right. So long as you know Jack Foster is going to get what’s
coming to him.”

“
I do,” Malcolm replied, a
quiet glance over his shoulder.

Cal gave a
double-take.
Was Malcolm concerned with his
feelings because it was his brother they were
discussing
? “Don’t hold back on account of
me,” he interjected. “Jack’s responsible for his actions and should
pay the consequences, whatever those might be.”

Nick cut the engine. “I appreciate
that, Cal.”

For a brief moment, the
three men sat silent. Each understood the stakes were high, each
harbored a different reason to see the meeting through to a
productive end. Nick’s motivation was personal, Malcolm’s straddled
the personal and professional. Cal’s was a jumbled mess of the two.
Jack was family. Nick was his boss. Troy was the father of his
wife’s grandbaby. Annie and Casey and Troy were family. If Troy
went to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, it would ruin the life
of a child before she ever entered the world. Cal knew something
about ruining a child’s life. He’d done of good job of ruining his
own daughter’s life. At least Emily was speaking to him these days.
She didn’t attend his wedding to Annie, but at least she’d opened
the door to a new relationship and for that he was grateful. His
ex-wife had made it happen. Now that he was one year sober,
Caroline was beginning to realize he was serious about starting
over, making things right. His ex-wife had gone so far as to
indicate she’d be open to Emily spending summers with Cal and his
new family in Tennessee. They had the first visit scheduled. She’d
be arriving in two months.
Two
months
.

Inhaling the sight of his home, he
suppressed a swell of nerves, a myriad of memories, and grabbed the
door handle. He was about to make things right in a different way.
Jack lied about Troy’s involvement with Delaney, claiming Troy
pulled a gun on him. Jack claimed he was the defender and not the
aggressor, which Cal knew was a lie. One look at Delaney that night
told the story. She didn’t take crap from anyone. To see her shaken
meant she’d walked to the brink. Jack was the liar here, and Cal
didn’t take kindly to liars, blood relative or not. “Let’s go,” Cal
said, and pushed out of the truck before any more thoughts could
slow him down. It was time for action.

Leading the way into the house, Cal
glanced about. Heavy wood beams dominated the interior, an enormous
antler chandelier hung from the ceiling above. Wood floors and
leather furniture were lit by the subtle glow of lamplight, lending
the room a country elegance. Quiet, empty, everything was in its
place, appearing picture-perfect, much like his mother’s life.
Settling on several photographs adorning the mantle, Cal understood
what was at stake.

Momma was defending Jack for more
reasons than protecting one of her own. She was preserving her
pride.

“
You have a beautiful home,”
Malcolm said.

“
Thanks,” Cal answered the
nicety, distracted by the sight of movement in the kitchen. Beyond
the living room, someone passed by the doorway. If instinct served
him, it had been Jack. Cal headed for him. Nick and Malcolm
wordlessly followed.

Cal rounded the corner of the spacious
kitchen as Jack switched on a sink faucet. Pulling an arched
nozzle, he rinsed a plate, setting it aside on a kitchen towel. The
faucet hose retracted with a zip, he shut the water off and
turned—and froze. Alarm dashed the calm in his dark gaze but he
recovered quickly. “Hello, brother.” Jack summoned a smile. “To
what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“
We’d like to have a little
chat with you,” Nick replied.

Jack’s gaze sprang to Nick. His smile
grew while his eyes remained suitably wary. “Come to apologize for
your wife’s tawdry behavior?” He snickered. “Inviting another man
to her stables late at night isn’t conduct becoming of a
lady.”

Nick stiffened. “You’re a piece of
work, aren’t you?”

“
Delaney seems to think
so.”

Circling the kitchen island, Nick
stopped in front of a massive double-door refrigerator, stainless
steel gleaming in the overhead lighting. As he faced off with Jack,
Cal instantly thought the cookware hanging from a rack above them
could act as makeshift weaponry. One whack from a heavy pan could
knock a man cold.

Cal stepped forward. “This isn’t a
game, Jack.”

“
Who said anything about
games?”

Despite Jack’s jovial expression,
neither Nick nor Malcolm appeared amused. Quite the opposite.
“We’re challenging your charges against Troy,” Cal informed him.
“They won’t hold up in a court of law.”

Nick moved closer to Jack, Malcolm
shadowing his movements. Cal noted Nick was within striking range,
escalating the adrenaline pump through his system.

But Jack seemed unfazed, despite the
fact the imposing Nick Harris now stood feet from him. “I think
they will, brother. I have the injuries to prove it. Troy and
Delaney have nothing.”

“
Wrong.” Nick stepped
forward. “They have me.”

Jack’s bravado cracked a hair, clearly
aware the six-foot-four Mr. Harris could inflict severe injury.
“Would you like to add some assault charges of your own?” Jack
smirked but Cal detected a hint of fear.

“
Yes, I would.” Nick leaned
down, bringing his face to within inches of Jack’s. “Very much so,”
he added under his breath. “But I won’t give you the satisfaction
of witnesses.”

“
Big man afraid?” Jack
taunted.

Cal was amazed by his brother’s cool,
apparently confident Nick wouldn’t lay a hand on him. It was a
feeling Cal couldn’t share. Perhaps Jack had been
drinking.

“
Smart. Big man is smart,”
Nick replied, “and putting you on notice. Drop the charges against
Troy or Delaney charges you with attempted rape, compounded by
aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.”

“
I never touched
her.”

“
I have two people who say
otherwise.”

“
You’re going to have a hard
time proving it in court. Unlike me. I have photos to document my
injuries.”

“
Injuries that are going to
look pleasant compared to what I have in store for you.”

“
I think I’ve heard
enough.”

Cal whirled at the sound of his
mother’s voice. Four men stood motionless, staring at the petite
Victoria Foster. Across the kitchen she linked arms across her
chest, the shimmery cream of her blouse oddly at home in the
commercial grade kitchen. Hair swept into a French twist, her neck
and ears adorned with diamonds, she glared at Nick and Malcolm with
a severe expression.