Out of Exile (2 page)

A burst of irritation swept through Matthew at the realization that even after all the years that had passed, and all the beatings he'd endured because of her, he felt a stir of desire for her. “Just spit it out,” he exclaimed. “I don't remember you ever having a problem verbalizing in the past.”

Her eyes, eyes the color of cornflowers, widened at the sharpness of his tone. “She's lost everything—her house, her savings…all of her assets—through a series of bad investments.”

“And so she's come here hoping we'll default on the terms of my father's will and she'll inherit the place?” he asked tersely.

“I know all about the terms of the will, that your father set it up so you all have to work here for a year before the ranch officially becomes yours. And I know if any one of you defaults on the conditions, the ranch goes to Aunt Clara.”

She took a step toward him and placed her hand on his forearm. He suddenly remembered that about
her, that she'd been a toucher. “She doesn't want the ranch, Matthew. All she wants is a home here with the rest of her family.”

What family? Matthew wanted to ask. The Delaneys had never been a family. They had been four children trapped in a life with a brutal dictator, four siblings who'd been isolated by fear and distrust. But Matthew didn't talk about such things. He never talked about it.

“Why doesn't she move in with you?” he asked, then realizing how cold he sounded, he hurriedly continued, “I mean, you're certainly much closer to her than any of my brothers and sister have been over the years.”

She nodded, the gesture giving her thick, dark hair a sensual sway. “I told her I'd get a bigger apartment, that she was more than welcome to move in with me, but she insisted she wants to be here.”

He fought the sigh of resignation that rose in his throat. “Then I guess she's going to be here.”

Lilly offered him a wide smile that lit every feature on her face. He felt the warmth of that smile burrow deep in the pit of his stomach. “Thanks, Matthew. More than anything, I want her to be happy.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did you really think I'd send her away?”

She grabbed a strand of her midnight hair and twirled it around her finger. “To be honest I didn't know what to expect. We haven't exactly stayed in touch, and I wasn't sure how you might react.”

She was right. Many years had passed since
they'd spoken or had any contact. She had no idea what kind of man he'd become, just as he had little idea of the woman she'd become.

“How long are you going to be here?” he asked. “Hasn't school started in Dallas?” The last thing he'd heard was that she was a high school counselor.

“Yes, but I decided to take a year off.” Her gaze slid away from his.

“Really? Why?”

She shrugged. “I just decided I needed a little break.”

She walked over to one of the other stalls and reached out to pet the mare confined there.

Matthew watched her. He had a feeling there was more to the story, but told himself it was none of his business. She was none of his business.

Still, he had to admit to himself that she was as pretty as she'd been at sixteen…even prettier. She was still slender, but with curves in the right places. Her hair wasn't as long as it had been years ago, but it still framed her face with glossy darkness, a perfect foil for her startling blue eyes.

“You never married.” It was a statement, not a question.

She turned to look at him once again. “Neither have you,” she countered.

“That's right. And I never intend to marry.” Matthew knew well the reasons why he would never bind himself to a woman. “I like living my life alone. What about you?”

She gave the horse a final pat. “For the most part I'm comfortable alone. I've never felt the need for
marriage. I think there are just some people who aren't cut out for the institution.” She grinned. “And no, I'm not gay.”

He blinked in surprise. “That didn't even cross my mind.”

“You'd be surprised how many men discover I'm thirty-five and never been married and just assume it must be because I'm gay, or at the very least highly dysfunctional in some way or another. There are times it gets quite irritating.”

He felt a grudging grin curve his mouth. Even as a young woman she'd been in touch with her emotions and had no problems verbalizing them. He'd always admired that about her.

“So how long are you planning on staying?” he repeated as they headed for the stable door.

“A week, maybe two if that's all right with you. I'd like to see Aunt Clara settled in.” She grinned, the infectious smile he remembered from their youth. “But don't worry, Matthew. I'm a big girl now. I don't expect you to squire me around on this visit. I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself.”

They both halted as the door to the stables opened and Jacob Tilley walked in. “Jacob!” Matthew said in surprise.

He hadn't seen Jacob since six months ago when Jacob's father, Walter Tilley had been sent away to prison.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, Matthew,” Jacob said. “One of your men told me you were out here and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

Matthew turned to Lilly. “Jacob, this is Lilliana Winstead.”

“Yes, I remember you,” Jacob said and held his hand out to her. “You used to visit in the summers.”

“That's right,” Lilly replied. “And you used to come with your father when he'd have a meeting with Adam.” She shook his hand, then stepped back from them. “I'll just get out of here and give you two some privacy.” Without a backward glance she left the stables.

“Pretty, isn't she?” Jacob observed when she had gone.

“She's all right. What can I do for you, Jacob?” Matthew asked, curious as to why this man would show his face around here.

“I hear the ranch is doing well,” he said as he swept his hat from his head and fingered the brim. “Heard you're booked up solid through Christmas.”

“We're doing all right,” Matthew replied. He eyed the man patiently, knowing eventually he would get around to the reason for this visit.

Jacob shifted from one foot to the other, his gaze not meeting Matthew's. “This can be a tough town, an unforgiving town.”

“Are you here on behalf of your father?” Matthew asked. Seven months before, Walter Tilley had been the executor of Adam Delaney's will and the family lawyer. Then it was discovered he was running illegal aliens through the ranch and was responsible for the death of a young woman who'd been working the ranch as a social director.

“No, I'm here on behalf of me…and my family.” For the first time Jacob looked him square in the eyes. “I hear you're doing some hiring.”

“I always do this time of year,” Matthew replied. “I've got interviews set up for tomorrow.”

“I was afraid if I tried to set anything up with you, you'd turn me down,” Jacob replied. He frowned. “And of course, I wouldn't blame you if you did. What my father did to you, to this ranch, was inexcusable.”

“I've never blamed you for the choices your father made.” God help him if anyone judged him by his father's sins, Matthew thought.

“Then give me a job, Matthew.” There was a touch of undisguised desperation in Jacob's voice. “I can't get anyone else in this town to even talk to me about a job. Everyone knows what my father did. Hell, my wife…my kids…we're all starving because I can't find work.”

Matthew knew the Tilleys had always been proud, and he knew the emotional toll it must have cost Jacob to come here this evening.

“Be here at dawn in the morning and plan on working harder than you ever have in your life.” Matthew hoped he hadn't just made a mistake.

Jacob held a hand out to him. “Thanks. I promise you won't regret it.”

After Jacob left the stables, Matthew remained for a few minutes longer. He sank down on a bale of hay, his thoughts going back to the conversation with Lilly.

Funny, he'd always been surprised that she hadn't
married. He wasn't sure he'd ever met a woman who had no interest in getting married. Certainly most of the single women of Inferno had marriage on the mind, and there was nothing they'd like more than to snag the last available Delaney.

But Matthew's desire to remain single went deeper than a mere whim. He would never marry, because he was afraid he was his father's son. And as his father's son, he was desperately afraid that if he ever fell in love he would only manage to hurt the person most dear to his heart.

Better not to love than to repeat the sins of the father.

L
illy left the stables and checked on Aunt Clara, who had retired to her room for the evening. Lilly fixed herself a glass of iced tea, then went back outside and sat on the wicker chair on the front porch.

The sun had disappeared and the purple haze of twilight was fading as stars began to appear as if by magic in the darkening skies.

She saw Jacob Tilley leave the stables and get into his pickup. She waved at him as he drove off, then looked expectantly toward the stable, assuming Matthew would soon follow.

When minutes passed and he didn't come out, she returned her gaze to the night sky. From her apartment in downtown Dallas she never saw the stars. But here they looked big enough, low enough, to reach out and grab.

She drew a deep breath, feeling more relaxed than
she had in months. The frantic tempo of the Dallas city life and the daily stresses of her job seemed very far away at the moment.

A week or two here and perhaps she'd be ready to go back and face her life…and her failure. She drew another breath, fighting against a wave of sadness so deep it sent a piercing ache through her.

She consciously forced her thoughts away from her job and instead found thoughts of Matthew intruding into her mind. As a boy he had fascinated her and she was surprised to discover some of that fascination remained.

As the years had passed and she'd remembered the crush she'd had on him, she'd always believed that she'd been acutely drawn to him due to the raging hormones of a teenager. But she was well past the age of teenage hormones and still she found herself physically drawn to him.

The moment they had pulled in and she had seen him, she'd experienced a slight quickening of her pulse, an acceleration of her heartbeats.

Nostalgia. Surely that's what she was experiencing. The nostalgia of that first crush, time spent with a handsome young man, the awakening of sexual awareness between two teenagers.

Hearing footsteps, she looked toward the stables to see the object of her thoughts approaching, his boots crunching on the gravel drive.

“Everything all right?” she asked as she saw the frown that deepened the lines on his face.

“I hope so.” He lowered himself into the chair
next to hers. “I just hired Jacob Tilley and I'm hoping it's not a mistake.”

“Why would it be a mistake?”

“Jacob Tilley's father, Walter, was our family lawyer at the time my father passed away. He's now in prison for running illegal aliens through our ranch and murdering a young woman who worked here as a social director. He also nearly killed my brother, Mark and his wife, April, when they stumbled on his operation.”

Lilly gasped and listened as he told her the details of Jacob's father's crimes. “But surely you heard about all this,” he said as he finished the story.

Lilly shook her head. “No, I didn't hear anything about it. But you have to understand, most of the information I get about the ranch and what's happening with your family is from Aunt Clara and the letters she gets from Johnna. Johnna doesn't write her very often, and I think Aunt Clara often forgets what she's been told in those letters.”

“That's how I managed to keep up with your life over the years,” he replied. “Johnna would mention a letter she'd received from Clara and Clara's letters were usually filled with tidbits about your life.”

Lilly grinned. “They must have been pretty boring letters.” She took a sip of her tea, then placed the glass on the porch next to her chair. “Whenever I visited out here, I thought you led the most exciting life I could ever imagine.”

“Really?” She heard his disbelief in his low voice.

“If you'd been here longer than a week or two at
a time, you'd probably have realized just how unexciting ranch life can be. It's a hard life. It can be brutal.” A hard edge had appeared in his tone.

He cleared his throat and stood. He moved to the porch railing and stared out at the encroaching darkness. For a long moment he was silent…a silence that invited no entry.

Lilly stared at the width of his rigid back and wondered if he dated, if he had a special somebody in his life. She remembered him as somebody who had difficulty opening himself to anyone, sharing pieces of himself.

In those summers when she had visited here, she had worked very hard to get through the barriers she sensed he'd erected to guard him from everyone. And when she'd felt she'd succeeded, it had been a sweet success.

But he wasn't sixteen or seventeen anymore, and she had no right to intrude on his thoughts, his emotions or his life.

“You mentioned that Clara wants to make her home here permanently,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “I need to warn you that there isn't any guarantee this place will be permanent.”

She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?” She rose from her chair and joined him at the railing.

He didn't look at her but continued to stare out at some indefinable point in the distance. “I've received an offer from a development company that wants to buy this place in five months when it officially becomes ours.”

“But surely you aren't considering selling,” Lilly protested. She placed a hand on his forearm, and when he turned to look at her, his eyes were as dark as the night that surrounded them.

“To be honest, I don't know what I'm considering.”

“But what does the rest of your family say about selling?” Lilly asked. She dropped her hand from his arm, conscious that she was too aware of the firm muscles, the smooth skin beneath her fingertips.

He took several steps away from her and raked a hand through his hair. “I haven't told them about the offer yet. I've called a family meeting for tomorrow night and we'll all discuss it then. I just figured I should let you know that, at the moment, nothing here is permanent.”

Lilly didn't know how to reply. She was stunned that there was even a possibility that the Delaney heirs would want to sell this place that was their roots, their heritage.

How she wished she had roots like this…a place that was home, had been home for years. But Lilly also knew she had no right to fight for a home that wasn't hers.

Again they stood in silence. Lilly tried to ignore the fact that she could smell his masculine scent, a pleasant combination of the outdoors, of leather and hay and spicy cologne.

She could feel his body heat, as if the sun had fevered him all day long and his skin still retained the warmth. Suddenly she remembered how much she'd wanted him to kiss her years ago.

There had been a time when she'd thought she might die if he kissed her, that a single kiss from him would have the power to make her expand and blow away with sheer happiness.

On those summer visits they had explored every inch of the Delaney ranch, he'd taken her into town for ice cream and to the movies. They'd even spent time dancing together at a Fourth of July celebration the town had put on.

They had indulged in the flirtatious games of teenagers just learning the power and strength of their own sexuality, but they had never kissed. Certainly she had wanted him to kiss her, and there were times she thought he'd come precariously close, but it had never happened.

She returned to her chair, finding it ludicrous that she was thirty-five years old and wondering how Matthew Delaney kissed.

“Did I mention that a moving van will be arriving first thing in the morning with the rest of Aunt Clara's things?” she asked in an attempt to school her errant thoughts.

“No.” He released a sigh as if the very thought made him tired, and Lilly wished it weren't dark so she could see his face, see the expression that might be there.

“There isn't a whole lot. Mostly boxes of clothing and knickknacks, her favorite rocking chair and a few other small pieces of furniture. She sold most of her things in an estate sale last week.”

He turned to face her, his features still shadowed by the night. “I'm going to be interviewing and hir
ing some new hands in the morning. Just have the movers unload the things in the living room, and I'll deal with it tomorrow afternoon. And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to call it a night.” He didn't wait for her reply, but opened the door and disappeared into the house.

“Good night, Matthew,” she said softly, oddly disappointed by his abrupt departure.

He intrigued her. When they'd both been teenagers she'd sensed there was an unusual depth to him, a sensitivity that he tried to keep hidden from everyone, and she sensed those same things now.

She shook her head ruefully. Maybe she should call it a night, too. She'd done all the driving on the long trip from Dallas, and she was tired.

And apparently that overtiredness was filling her head with silly notions about a boy she'd once spent time with…a boy who'd grown into a man she didn't know at all.

Rising from the chair, she stretched her hands overhead to work out kinks that had tightened during the long hours in the car.

She froze with her hands over her head, a sudden, creepy feeling that she was being watched raising the hairs on the nape of her neck. Slowly she lowered her hands, the creepy feeling persisting.

Gazing around the area, she didn't see anyone around, although the darkness of night, especially around the barn and stables was profound.

Definitely overtired, she decided, and with one last look around she went inside and headed upstairs to bed.

 

The moving van arrived just after ten the next morning. Matthew was in the midst of showing around a couple of new ranch hands he'd just hired. They were standing near the corral when the van pulled in.

“It takes a lot to keep an operation like this running smoothly,” Matthew said, trying to focus on the men before him instead of on Lilly, who had just appeared on the front step to meet the movers.

It would have been far easier to stay focused on the task at hand if Lilly hadn't been wearing another pair of those damnable short shorts.

“I expect each of my workers to give 100 percent at all times,” he continued. In the bright yellow T-shirt, she looked like a ray of sunshine as she told the two men in the van where to put the items they'd begun unloading.

He focused back on the two men before him. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, is she your wife?” It was the younger of the two cowpokes that asked the question with a thumb pointed in Lilly's direction.

“No, she isn't my wife, but she's a guest at the ranch, and one of the cardinal rules of working here is that there is no fraternization between the guests and the help. I expect you to be friendly and helpful to the guests, but nothing more.” Matthew looked at the two men. “Any other questions?”

“None from me,” Ned Sayville, the older of the two said.

Eddie Creighton, the younger of the two shrugged his shoulders. “Just tell us what to do from here.”

“There are a couple of stalls in the stables that need to be cleaned out and fresh hay laid down. Why don't you start there, and when that's done hunt me up and we'll get you going on something else.”

He watched as the two headed for the stables. For the next couple of days they would be jacks of all trades until he could assess their strengths and see where they would best fit at the ranch.

Now the next problem he had to deal with was Lilly and Aunt Clara, and he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with either.

He'd had a miserable night, his sleep interrupted by intense nightmares the likes of which he hadn't suffered for years. He knew Lilly's presence was partially responsible for the recurrence of the old, familiar nightmares.

She had no way of knowing the enormous price he'd paid for those special, seemingly carefree days he'd spent with her so long ago. And if he had his way, she would never know.

But the night of reliving the worst of his past had left him with a cauldron of emotions deep inside and he knew that what he needed more than anything was a little distance and some time to get under control.

With this thought in mind, instead of heading for the moving van and Lilly, Matthew headed for the stables. Within minutes he'd saddled up his horse,
Thunder, and took off, racing across the open pasture as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

But it wasn't the hounds of hell…it was memories of his father. Damn Adam Delaney! Damn him to hell for having no soul, for scarring his children with mental and physical abuse.

Matthew dug his heels into Thunder's flanks. Thunder responded to his urgings and raced like the wind until Matthew reined her in, the fire in his belly dissipating to a more manageable level.

Seeing a fence post teetering precariously, he made a mental note to talk to his youngest brother, Luke about it. Luke took care of the fencing around the property, along with any carpentry work that needed to be done.

If they did sell the ranch, Luke would be all right. He was a skilled craftsman in woodworking and would never go hungry. Johnna, Matthew's sister, would be okay, too. Married to the local Methodist minister, Johnna also had a thriving law practice. They would survive fine without the yoke of the family ranch around their necks.

It was his brother Mark that worried Matthew. Not only was Mark's house built on the property, but his wife was expecting a new baby. Mark's life had been working with the horses on the ranch. That's all he'd ever done…all he'd ever wanted to do. If they sold the ranch, Mark would not only lose his livelihood but his house, as well.

Matthew didn't know what he wanted to do. There were days when he thought that if he had to stay here one more day he'd go mad. And other days
when he absolutely positively couldn't imagine doing anything but what he was doing…managing the family dude ranch.

He rode for nearly an hour, the physical activity effectively banishing the anger provoked by the nightmares and haunting memories.