Texas fury (9 page)

But she didn't love Riley Coleman. She loved Cole and probably always would. How stupid she'd been, how unrealistic to have assumed she could demand that Cole marry her! They'd had a long-standing relationship, but according to Cole, she'd imposed on that relationship because she knew full well he wasn't ready for marriage. She'd cried at first,

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knowing Cole was always moved by her tears, but when he appeared unmoved, she'd turned into a shrew, swearing and threatening all kinds of wicked things. The disgust in Cole's eyes was still with her. She'd run to Riley to lick her wounds and he'd consoled her, telling her Cole was a fool, something she needed to hear. He'd told her how pretty she was, how elegant she looked, and he reinforced each compliment by reassuring her that Cole would come around, Cole would realize his mistake. But it hadn't worked that way. And somehow or other she'd started dating Riley—casual, friendly dates for dinner, a concert, a movie, or just hanging out at the ranch.

Riley was a great guy. She wished she could love him, and in a way she did, but not the way she loved Cole. It bothered her that he hadn't put any moves on her. Did he consider her Cole's leftovers? Of did he worry about what his family would think? Apparently he was going to go through with the engagement, and engagements led to weddings. Sooner or later. Riley was a handsome young man, all six feet three inches of him. The slight slant of his eyes and the delicate coloring made him look sensual and mysterious. He was gentle and sensitive, but she knew he could be a hard-driving force in business. Her father had attested to that.

Suddenly she realized that Riley was taking her home, not back to Sunbridge. She wanted to be angry, to say cruel things, but she held her tongue. Going back to Sunbridge would have meant she could see Cole again. Already she'd forgotten her shame and humiliation. Seeing Cole, even if it was just across the room, was all she wanted. And Riley was denying her that pleasure.

"A penny for your thoughts, Riley," she said lightly.

"Do I come so cheap?"

She could tell by his voice she'd offended him. Cole would have taken the comment in stride. "It's just that I want to share things with you, and that includes your thoughts. If something is bothering you, we should talk about it." She hoped the guilt she was feeling didn't show in her voice when she asked, "Did I do something you don't approve of?" She wouldn't mention Cole. Let him be the one to bring up his cousin's name.

Did she? Riley wondered. He'd felt anger when he saw her talking to Cole, but when she turned and gave him her brilliant smile, it was all right. After all, it was a social occasion. Why shouldn't she talk to Cole? That was over and done with,

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and both of them had to be civil. Take the easy way out, he told himself. Don't answer her question; ask one in return. Make it casual. "What did you think of my grandfather? I saw you talking to him."

Lacey let a moment go by as she searched for the right words. Words and how they were spoken were important to Riley. "I think you're very lucky to have such a dear, wise grandfather," she finally said.

There was no need to tell Riley she'd spent most of the ten minutes of their meeting trying to calculate his vast wealth and how much of that wealth would be allocated to her when they married. Her parents would want to know, right down to the penny. The old man was sick; she could tell by the yellowish tint in his eyes and his skin. Death had never touched her life in any way. She almost hoped he would die before they were married so she wouldn't have to go to Japan for the funeral. Buddhists yet. Oh well, her mother would probably know what to wear at such a funeral, or consult the stars if she didn't. If the old man died after she was married, the Coleman jet would transport the whole family. She'd be part of that family. Cole would of course attend. He loved the old man. She could picture Riley grieving, Cole and herself at his side, consoling him. She would probably be the only one not grieving, but she could learn how to act it out. She was, after all, Tess Buckalew's daughter.

Lacey inched as close to Riley as she could, but she was hampered by the Bronco's console. The heavy fur didn't help either. The car was moving, the heater was purring, and Riley simply wasn't with her. Well, if it was her relationship with Cole that was bothering him, he was going to have to get over it. She couldn't change the fact that she and Cole had been lovers. Lots of women had lovers. Most women were not meant for a nunnery. But a small worm of fear told her it wasn't just Cole; there was another reason for Riley's remoteness. For a brief moment she felt insulted. She should be all he thought about.

"You've never been to Japan, have you? I'm going to drop you off, Lacey, and get back to the house," Riley said, all in one breath. "I want to spend some time with my grandfather."

Lacey blinked, her incredible blue eyes darting swiftly to Riley. Now, what was that supposed to mean? Good God, surely he wasn't thinking about going back to Japan to live. She could never live with Orientals on a daily basis, unless, of

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course, they were servants. Drop her off! Riley never just dropped her off. As a matter of fact, she usually had to tell him to leave. She was warm now and her teeth had stopped chattering. When she spoke, her voice was as soft and warm as her body.

"No, I've never been to Japan because to go to such a wonderful country by yourself would be a disaster. Perhaps we can honeymoon in Japan and you can show me your country. I'd like that. You know, Riley, I barely had a chance to talk to any of your family this evening. Things were so hectic, and time got away from me. Let me go to Sunbridge with you—I can borrow a car from someone and drive myself home."

"Not tonight." His tone was sharper than he intended, but he didn't apologize. "Tonight is family night, and I want to spend time with my grandfather." He hated it when he had to repeat things to Lacey. He'd certainly told her often enough the way Colemans did things. He always felt at a disadvantage when Lacey put him on the defensive.

"And I'm not part of that family; is that what you're saying?"

Riley refused to be baited. "Not yet," he said lightly.

Her mother was going to have a fit. Dropped off like some high school date. She could hear Tess now. "What do you mean you didn't go to Sunbridge with the family? Riley didn't want you in Cole's company because you behaved like a damn alley cat for everyone to see. That's it, isn't it?" Then her father would start by telling her she better not screw up, and he needed this or that from Riley, and the only way he could get it was for her to be tight with him. He wouldn't mince words, either. "What's this family shit that you aren't good enough?"

She'd have to say she was sick and had wanted to come home. Her parents wouldn't buy it one hundred percent, but it would get Riley off the hook. Damn, now she was actually getting a headache. Okay, play the game.

"Okay, darling," she said softly, "I'm tired, too. I just thought you might want some moral support, but I certainly don't want to go where I'm not wanted." Dig in the knife a little, the way Tess would have done it. Guilt always worked with Riley. She waited for a comment, but when Riley didn't respond, she knew he hadn't heard a word she said.

"Riley, slow down; there's the gate."

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"I saw it," he said testily as he cut the wheel hard and careened through the arch that proclaimed this tract of land as Buckalew Big Wells. Every time he drove under the arch he had to fight with himself not to laugh at the ridiculous-sounding name, but not tonight.

Buckalew Big Wells was flooded with light, inside and out. All manner of Christmas decorations blazed in the dark night, including a gigantic sleigh and reindeer prancing across the roof. The spotlights trained on the roof could be seen for miles. He wondered what the garish display had cost.

"I'll make it up to you, Lacey. I guess I'm not with it tonight. Don't be upset."

Riley's voice was too cool and flat. Lacey reached over and touched his face. "I can't be upset with you, Riley. When you love someone you can't get upset with him. Look, don't get out of the car. I can see myself to the door. Call me tomorrow. How will you make it up to me?" she asked sweetly.

"How would you like to go to Rio with me next week? We'll be back before Christmas." The minute the offer was out of his mouth, he regretted it.

"South America! Goodness, Riley, I'll have to think about that. I do have a job, you know." She'd have to confer with her parents. Tess could have her packed and out the door in thirty minutes. Her father would carry her piggyback to the airport. "That would be one sweet way of making things right. The only thing is, Riley, you didn't do anything wrong that you have to make right. Y'all know what I'm sayin'," she drawled. Her mother would kill or at least cripple her for what she'd just said. Better get back to playing the game. "Good night, Riley. Give my regards to your family, and sleep well." She blew a kiss in Riley's general direction and was out the door before he could respond.

Riley sat for a few moments before he backed the Bronco out of the long driveway. He knew Lacey had been trying to make him feel guilty, and he was guilty. Was it the shock— the reality—of his grandfather's condition that was consuming his thoughts and allowing no one to intrude? Definitely. The old one was supposed to live forever, or at least till Riley had his life in order.

He wished he could cry, but Japanese men didn't cry. He knew it was fashionable for American men to reveal their feelings, to shed tears, show their sensitivity. What did half-

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Japanese, half-American men do? The pull was there.. . and would always be, until he decided who he really was. Not for the first time this evening, he realized he had some serious thinking to do about a lot of things, and Lacey was one of them. He didn't need any more mistakes in his life.

Ivy was about to turn out her bedside light when Lacey poked her head in the door.

"So you are home! You'll be happy to know you had everyone in a tizzy wondering where you were. You did it on purpose, didn't you? It was the only way for you to get some attention. Admit it!"

"If you say so. Kind of early for you, isn't it? Did Riley get tired of you salivating all over Cole?"

"Grow up, Ivy! I came home because I had a headache. I wasn't in the mood to go to Sunbridge. You'd give your eye-teeth to go over there, wouldn't you?"

"And my back molars," Ivy said honestly. "I like the Cole-mans."

"Yeah. I watched you sidling up to Cole and Riley's grandfather all evening. Brownie points? Cole only danced with you because he felt sorry for you," Lacey said coolly.

Ivy snuggled beneath the covers. "First of all, Mr. Hase-gawa isn't a Coleman. He's a very nice old man and I enjoyed talking to him. Cole and I had a wonderful conversation, and I know in my gut you'd kill right now to find out \vhat he said about you, and I'm not going to tell you. Don't let the door hit you on that skinny rear end of yours on the way out."

"You are a nasty, obnoxious child. I don't know why I waste my time talking to you. I told Riley he shouldn't be concer—"

Ivy's face lit up. Lacey was stunned at how pretty her sister was in the bedroom light. She suddenly lost all desire to hassle Ivy. "Good night, Ivy. Riley said to tell you he was sorry he didn't get to dance with you, like he promised. I only danced with him once myself. I'm sorry about tonight, Ivy, I really am. I wish you'd had a better time."

"Yeah, right," Ivy said bitterly.

Lacey stormed over to Ivy's bed. "Why is it every time I try to be nice to you, you lash out at me? I give up. Mama's right, you're nothing but a spoiled, belligerent snot."

Ivy sat up in bed. "Nice! Since when were you ever nice to me? The only time you're ever nice is when you want some-

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thing. I wonder what you want now. Oh, I know; you want me to tell you what Cole said. Forget it! You're the one who is like Mama, Lacey. Go to bed. I'm sick of looking at you."

"How can you talk that way? You should get soap in your mouth. Shame on you, Ivy."

"It's real easy when you walk in my shoes," Ivy said smoothly.

Lacey closed the door behind her. She knew Ivy would cry when she turned out the light. She almost turned back, but she didn't. She had enough problems of her own. Ivy would have to handle her own the best way she could. She didn't have time to go into the lifesaving business.

"What is this palaver, Thaddeus?" Shadaharu Hasegawa asked quietly. He and Thad sat side by side on a small sofa in front of the fireplace in the Sunbridge library.

Thad spoke gently to the old man. "I suppose it's something like you Japanese call Move the Shade. You know, your warrior Miyamoto Musashi's guide to strategy." The last time he'd seen Shadaharu, he'd had more hair. Now it was thin and wispy, almost frondlike. He'd been heavier, too, by a good thirty pounds. It was clear that this long evening had been too much for him. Thad's heart thumped. Time was taking all his old friends. Already he could feel the grief building in him.

"Ah, so, I understand. Tell me, Thaddeus, when will you retire from your government office?"

"Is that a gentle reminder that I'm getting old?" Thad laughed.

"Absolutely not," Billie answered for him. "But I'd kind of like to know when myself."

"At the end of this term," Thad said flatly. "Then I'm all yours." Billie's smile caressed her husband. Thad grinned. Shadaharu smiled. Riley felt sick.

Across the room Cole watched his cousin. Something was wrong. His heart leaped in his chest and then settled down to a fast thump. He'd dreaded Riley's arrival, certain he'd have Lacey in tow. But he was alone, and Cole didn't know whether to be glad or sorry. What he did know was that something was bothering Riley, and he didn't think it was Lacey. Maybe he'd search him out later and talk. They'd done that at school, one calling the other when things got tough.

A devil perched himself on Cole's shoulder. "This looks like a wake. What's happened to this family? I remember

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when we all would party till dawn and then sit down to breakfast and still be full of vigor. It's the shank of the evening, two-thirty, to be exact."