All I Need Is You (25 page)

C
asey found her father sitting on his horse outside the small, fenced-in graveyard. This was the first time she had come to visit Fletcher’s grave herself since she’d been back home. She was surprised to find Chandos there. Nothing else was near that lonely plot of land, shaded by a single large oak tree, that could have given him a reason to be there. The Bar M graveyard was reserved for Bar M folk, and he had known no others in it—just his father.

She stopped her horse next to his but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, which he couldn’t have missed. He didn’t, just continued to frown toward the grave that marked Fletcher’s resting place. She finally dismounted with the fistful of scraggly wildflowers she’d gathered on the range, and opened the low gate, rather than stepping over it, which she could easily have done.

She glanced up at her father and said, “You know, it’s okay to come in here. I really don’t think he’s going to sit up and point any accusing fingers.”

She had said it lightly, to get a smile out of him. His reply lacked all humor. “He should.”

It was such a telling remark, coming from him. It held a wealth of festering guilt. She didn’t know how to respond to it. She knew Fletcher had held him blameless, had accepted full responsibility for their rift. But try to get her father to listen to that, when he’d always closed his mind to any mention of Fletcher…

So she said nothing and continued toward the grave and knelt there on one knee to spread out her flowers. But after a few moments, she saw her father’s shadow pass over the grave as he came to stand behind her.

“I’ve begun to realize something recently that I’m not proud of.”

Casey went very still at those words. A confession? And here, in front of Fletcher—so to speak? Maybe she ought to leave. Her father had come here for a particular reason, obviously, and had decided not to postpone it simply because he was no longer alone.

She got up, but his gentle hand touched her arm to stop her from leaving him there alone, and his voice was filled with regret when he said, “I think I was trying to control you just as much as that old man tried to control me when I was your age. I’ve done exactly what I hated him for doing. But it has opened my eyes to why he tried to mold me. It’s made me understand him better.”

Tears came to Casey’s eyes. My God, Fletcher couldn’t have asked for more than that. If only he were here to hear it himself. But then, he
was
here…at least, Casey had always felt his pres
ence at the Bar M, liked to think he was still watching over her. And his presence was strongest at his grave.

Having spent so much time with Fletcher when she was growing up, perhaps she was the only one who could reassure her father now—and point out a few things that Chandos might not know.

But as to his confession, she asked carefully, “And forgive him, maybe?”

“Yes, that, too. It’s just killing me now, that I hadn’t figured this out before he died, and let him know that I at least understand.”

“He never asked for that. He would have been glad that you understood, but it wasn’t something he needed to hear. He knew he’d made mistakes aplenty. He mentioned them often,” she said, adding with a smile, “Almost with pride. But then, that’s the way he was. He believed that a man learned and benefited from his mistakes, that they toughened him, added directly to his strengths.”

Chandos nodded. “Yes, I can imagine he would think that way.”

She was glad to note there was no bitterness in his remark, as there might have been just months ago. “But in your case, Daddy, he was too proud of you to feel the full sting of his regrets.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you had turned out bad, then he would have blamed himself. But you didn’t, you see. There wasn’t anything about you that he didn’t find pride in, and, well, guess what? He took full credit.”

Chandos burst out laughing. “Son of a bitch.”

Casey grinned. “Exactly. Since you did turn out so well, Grandpa figured that the mistakes he made with you must have had something to do with it. It purely tickled him pink, the success you made of the K.C. He crowed to anyone who would listen that you did it all on your own, that you wouldn’t accept his help. You were his son. You did good. You did better than him. You ‘showed the old man.’ He took such pride in that, Daddy—in you.”

“I didn’t know,” Chandos said softly.

“No, you didn’t, but everyone else did.”

“Thank you, little girl.”

That “little girl” was back to being the endearment it had always been, which Casey could find no objection to. “No need to thank me for speaking the truth. No need to regret, either, that you couldn’t tell him of your understanding. You just did. He’s here, he knows.”

He smiled sadly. “Perhaps, but it’s not the same. We never talked, my father and I—”

Casey’s snort cut in. “You talked plenty—you just did it in a rather loud way.”

Chandos chuckled. “Is that what you call our shouting matches?”

“At least you never denied him access to you or your family, and you settled right next door to him. You think he didn’t know how much that counted, that there was forgiveness in that, just unspoken? You let us kids visit him whenever we liked. You think he didn’t see understanding in that? He had no regrets there at the end. He left a fine legacy that he was proud of. He left a fine son he was even more proud of.
He was happier than you know, Daddy.”

“But I
didn’t
know it.”

“Mama can verify that everything I’ve said is true. She’s heard his bragging about you. She’s probably even mentioned it to you before, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, I suppose she has.”

Casey nodded, continuing. “You had a need to do better’n him, but deep down, you knew that doing so would make him proud—and you did it anyway. That kinda speaks for itself, doesn’t it? He certainly figured it did. I mean, if you had really wanted the message to be that you hadn’t forgiven him and never would, you could have been a failure instead and let him fester, blaming himself for it.”

He gathered her close for a hug. “Where’d you get so much wisdom at your age?”

She leaned away to give him a gamin grin. “From you, maybe?”

“Hardly,” he retorted.

“Okay, from Mama, then.” She chuckled.

She imagined she could feel Fetcher’s warmth, and pleasure, in what had been said and what had been put to rest. She hoped her father felt it, too.

D
amian should have gotten on the next train heading north. He really didn’t want to tangle with Casey’s father again. Not that he didn’t think he could win if they came to blows again. The man had merely gotten in one lucky punch. But he didn’t want to fight her father at all. Not to mention that the man might pull his gun next time instead—and use it. He’d certainly insinuated as much.

But considering all that, there was still no way that Damian was going to leave without at least talking to Casey first. So he made use of what little information he had about her and took his sore nose to Casey’s grandfather after a short search located which doctor he was.

Dr. Harte refused to see him, of course. Casey had warned Damian that the old man saw only his longtime patients these days. But the doctor changed that policy when it was mentioned that his son-in-law had done the damage. And as Damian had hoped, he learned a bit more about the family from Harte, after he explained how he came to know Casey.

“Casey’s staying mostly at the Bar M these days, the ranch she and her brothers inherited from Fletcher Straton,” Edward Harte told him. “That ranch was the reason she took off all those months ago. She wanted to run it, but Chandos wouldn’t let her, so she set out to prove some things. He took off after her, of course, though he didn’t bring her back as soon as we expected. My daughter, Courtney, wasn’t too happy with them both gone for so long.”

“Then he’s letting her run it now?”

“Indeed, and I hear she’s doing fine so far. But then, if they both weren’t so hot-tempered, they could have figured that out back in the springtime.”

Damian wouldn’t have met Casey if that had been the case, but he didn’t say so. He hadn’t been surprised, either, that Casey was running a ranch now and doing a good job of it. Her capabilities never ceased to amaze him. He was surprised, though, after having met Chandos and talked to him, that the man had never caught up to Casey in all those months. After all, she’d learned most of what she knew from him. But again, if Chandos had found her right off, he would have taken her home and Damian would never have met her.

After speaking a bit more with the good doctor, Damian decided to wait a few days before seeking Casey again. Actually, he hoped she’d come into town. Less likelihood of his running into Chandos that way. So he kept watch on the doctor’s house and the general store, the two places she would most likely show up at. But
she didn’t show, and he was too eager to see her again to continue to wait.

Which meant it wasn’t long before he headed out into the countryside, this time to the Bar M. Because the ranch had belonged to Casey’s grandfather, and because she was now running it single-handedly, Damian was expecting something on a much smaller scale than the K.C. Ranch. But no, incredibly, two ranches in the same family, both resembling small towns in the amount of buildings spread out around the main houses. And now he understood why Casey’s father hadn’t wanted to turn the Bar M over to her. A ranch this size would be daunting for most men, much less a young girl.

Unfortunately, Casey wasn’t there. He was informed that she was out on the north range. He was warned not to try to find her, that it was easy to get lost out there. He chose to ignore the warning—and got lost.

It was sundown before he spotted buildings again. Just his luck, they turned out to belong to the K.C. rather than to the Bar M. He almost wished that Edward Harte hadn’t mentioned that Casey divided her evenings between the two ranches. Being there already, he couldn’t leave without finding out if this was one of those evenings.

He’d been right about that porch come sundown. A few lanterns had been lit, but their light wasn’t yet necessary with the bright red hues that bathed the porch in a warm glow. He took a moment to sit in one of the rockers and just gaze westward, marveling at how incredibly beautiful this part of the country could be, the
vast openness…the kind of peace he’d never find in the city.

It was too much to hope that Casey would suddenly appear on the porch and share that profound moment with him. He could imagine taking her hand in his and rocking side by side with that panoramic view before them…well, he could if he wasn’t still so furious with her over their parting—or lack thereof.

He really had to put that anger aside if he was going to obtain her help. She would hardly be conducive to an agreement if he was glaring at her while he stated the facts…

Damian sighed and got up to knock on the door before it got much darker. He sincerely hoped someone other than one of Casey’s parents would answer. He hadn’t forgotten Chandos’s warning; he was just choosing to ignore it. Ideally, he hoped not to see the man again at all.

Apparently a house this size didn’t have the large staff of servants one might expect, or at least not the kind who answered doors, because Courtney Straton once again stood there when the door opened. And she made no bones about being displeased to see him. Her frown was immediate. He was surprised she didn’t slam the door shut on him.

“I could’ve sworn you wouldn’t be back,” she said in a somewhat amazed tone.

“I wish it weren’t necessary, ma’am, believe me, but I really
must
talk to Casey before I leave the area. Could you please not summon your husband this time, and simply tell me if she’s here or not?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but then
closed it. Her frown grew deeper, though it was more thoughtful now. Damian held his breath. She was the one who sighed.

“All right, since you’re not going to be sensible about this, you might as well come inside.” She closed the door behind him, then called out, “Casey, honey, come here a minute. You’ve got a—visitor.”

For her to merely say it without shouting meant Casey was going to appear within seconds, and she did, stepping through the open doorway of the dining room, napkin in hand. She moved no farther, though, halting immediately when she saw Damian standing in the entryway next to her mother, her expression mirroring shocked surprise.

He was surprised as well, by her elegant appearance. He was so accustomed to seeing her in jeans and a poncho, except for that one time in Culthers, that it hadn’t occurred to him that she might dress differently now that she was home. Her black hair was arranged in an artful coiffure that was dotted with jewel-tipped pins. The tight-waisted gown she wore was emerald-green velvet, the low, rounded neckline bordered with several inches of the same colored lace so soft, it draped like short, capped sleeves over her shoulders.

She was incredibly lovely, incredibly alluring as well with that low neckline framing the soft curve of her breasts. Staring at her, Damian almost forgot why he was there.

He’d interrupted their dinner, obviously, and they apparently dressed for it here, just as high society did in the city. Her father came to stand
behind her, also finely tailored in a black evening coat with a black string tie, so utterly different from the man who’d ridden into Fort Worth that day. And if an inscrutable expression could be called deadly, his would be. Chandos was even less pleased to see Damian again than his wife had been.

Casey shook off her shock long enough to ask, “What are you doing here, Damian? And what happened to your nose?”

He flinched, having forgotten how obvious the damage on his face was. The swelling had gone down considerably, but the bruise that had shown up spread beneath one eye and between his brows. There had been a small break after all, according to Dr. Harte, though it could have been worse if the blow had landed more centered on his nose, rather than at the top of it and slightly off center.

Damian spared Chandos only a single look before he replied, “It ran into your father’s fist. Seems he felt I was owed some pain for risking your life.”

Casey’s shock was back. “Daddy punched you? When?” she exclaimed.

“Several days ago.”

“You came here and no one bothered to tell me?” The question wasn’t for him, and in fact, she turned to Chandos.

“What was the point?” her father said offhandedly. “He left. He was not supposed to return.”

“Daddy, didn’t we
just
have a talk about making decisions for me that I’m capable of making on my own?”

“Ask him why he came here, little girl, before you go jumping to conclusions. It’s still my right to protect you, no matter how old you get.”

She frowned at that cryptic remark. Damian did as well. It implied he had come here to harm her in some way, which was ridiculous. He started to say so, when Casey’s eyes swung to him and narrowed.

“Why
are
you here, Damian?”

He would have preferred to speak to her privately, but it didn’t look like her parents were going to allow that, so he got right to the point. “Jack escaped in St. Louis. He’s been traced to Chicago, but his trail was lost there. It’s too easy to hole up in a city that size, too many places to hide. My detectives have run out of ideas for finding him. Their suggestion is to send out Wanted posters to every state and hope some lawman who takes notice of them comes across him someday. Which could be never…”

She nodded, slowly. “Which still doesn’t say why you’re here.”

“You found him once, Casey.”

“Out here in the West, sure, but he’s in a city now,” she pointed out. “What do I know about cities?”

“But you know Jack.”

“You’ve already got people working on it, Damian.”

“Yes, and they’re competent enough, but they’re already giving up,” he said. “And they don’t have a vested interest. You do.”

“I do?” She raised a brow at him. “And just how do you figure that?”

“Because you impressed me as someone who
will see a job done to the finish,” he told her. “Because the job, though finished for you, has basically been extended, so it’s not actually done yet.”

“It’s not
my
fault you lost him.”

He sighed. “No, it’s not. But after all the effort you put into finding Jack, do you really want to see him go about his merry way now?”

Damian was putting her on the spot and he knew it. Couldn’t she see that she was his only hope?

“You came all this way to what? Hire me again?”

“I didn’t think money would be an issue, but if that’s what it will take—”

“I needed money before, Damian, I don’t now. I just want to make sure I have this straight. This is the only reason you came here? Just to get me to find Jack for you again?”

“Just? You know how important it is to me to bring him to trial. Why else would I travel all this way when I wasn’t even sure I’d find you here?”

“Why else indeed?” she said, then glanced at her father. “I see what you mean, Daddy.”

At that, she walked away, leaving Damian incredulous. He hadn’t expected her to flat out refuse to help him. Actually, he’d pretty much taken it for granted that he would only have to let her know of Jack’s escape to get her on the train to Chicago with him.

“I believe you’ve gotten your answer, Mr. Rutledge.”

He turned to see Casey’s mother holding the
door open for him to leave. Yes, he had his answer. And it felt devastating, as if he’d been turned down for more than just the help he needed.