Authors: Patricia; Potter
A shiver ran down her spine. Then another. A chill crept through her bones.
Secrets? Her father? Sure, she knew he'd had some. But something this deep, this big?
Parents were infallible when you were young. You loved them because they were your world. They were safety, security. Even when they were not perfect, they were a known entity and therefore believed, respected, and treasured. Maybe it was belonging. Jon Clayton had been all she had. And though he'd had faults and often retreated into a demon-infested world of his own, he'd never been physically abusive. Emotionally abusive? At times. But she had loved him so fiercely, she'd accepted it, had tried harder to be everything he'd wanted her to be. She had accepted him as he was, had thought that drink had been his only enemy.
Had it really been his past?
She pictured him in her mind again. He was wiry, almost gaunt. His hair had thinned, and his lips seldom smiled. He usually wore an old pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, and a denim jacket. A cigarette frequently dangled from his lips except when he was in a barn. He was careful around horses. Always. She'd often thought he preferred them to people. And to her.
She looked back at the laughing figure in the photo. Carefree. Happy. And so young. It was difficult to think of her father ever being that age.
There were other photos of him in the first pages of the album, one with him on horseback, another as a boy with a dog at his side. He'd never allowed her to have a dog; they'd always lived in other people's houses, and it wouldn't be fair, he'd said, to get an animal, then have to give it up.
Anger simmered inside her as she stared at the picture, and she realized it had been building ever since Alex had appeared with his news. She had been cheated of a real home and everything that went with it: friends, support, family.
Belonging
.
She'd always told herself it didn't matter. Her father could have dumped her as her mother apparently had. He'd never shown much affection, but he'd always been there. She'd always hoped deep in her heart that he loved her.
Why then had he kept her from his family?
Those questions, she knew, would haunt her until she knew every one of the answers.
She recalled every face she'd seen tonight, compared some of them to the photos in the album. She was also reminded of the tragedies that had touched the family: Hugh who had died in the Second World War, then Heath, who had died in a fire; Halden's daughter, Louise, who'd died of polio at five; and Samuel, who'd died in the Korean War. There was something very sad about looking at faces of people long dead, particularly when they died young.
Cullen, too, apparently had his near disaster, she thought as she saw a photo of a much younger Cullen in uniform. A rifle cradled in his arms, he stood with a group of other soldiers on a Korean hill.
Too many for one family? Or was it normal? She had no way of knowing, but she found herself aching for each one of them.
She tried to wipe away the cobwebs in her mind, looking for similarities between these people and the quiet, stern man who too often turned into a maudlin drinker. Grief curled up inside her and took a seat next to her anger.
A cauldron of emotions turned her mind to mush.
Jessie finally turned off the light, but she couldn't rid her thoughts of the image of the five brothers and sister. Only two were alive now, but they had all looked so young and vital in the photo. But in her mind, time corroded that picture like acid through cloth.
Alex would pick her up at ten in the morning for the blood test. If things worked out as he obviously expected, she would soon become an official part of the family she'd met tonight.
Was that what she really wanted?
Of course it was. She had reveled in Sarah's warmth, in Alex's acceptance and the congressman's obvious approval. Sedona
was
truly a wonderland, but not so ⦠nonsensical. This was reality. She kept trying to tell herself that.
And she found herself looking forward to seeing Alex again. She'd never been the type of girl who attracted the “hunks.” Which was why, she supposed, she'd succumbed so easily to Mills, only to find her knight was nothing but the worst kind of knave. She'd become immune then. And, she hoped, forever. But still, Alex was disarming.
She wasted most of the night that way, pondering imponderables until finally she fell asleep.
Alex had breakfast with Marc at a small coffee shop in Sedona. Marc had driven in from the ranch, where he and his wife always stayed when they were in Arizona. Since they spent most of their time in Washington, Marc saw little need to keep a separate residence in town. And the ranch house was certainly large enough.
Alex had understood the decision. Marc had always enjoyed riding and hunting, and he liked the image it presented. Family man. Rancher. He also liked the economics. Members of Congress did not have large salaries.
“What do you think of her?” Marc asked Alex. “You've been with her more than any of us.”
“I like her,” Alex said.
“So do I,” Marc said. “But what will she do?”
Alex shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven't told her yet.”
Marc gave him a questioning look.
“It didn't seem useful until we received the DNA test results. I didn't want to scare her off.”
“She spent a lot of time with Sarah.”
“Sarah was bound and determined to talk to her. She gave her one of those photograph albums.”
“And the girl never said anything about her father?”
“Damned little.”
Marc's eyes narrowed. “You know how important this is?” It wasn't a question as much as a statement of fact.
“Of course I do. You've told me enough times.”
“I thought she would be eating out of your hand by now.” Marc's voice had an edge to it.
“You thought wrong.”
“You must be slipping, Alex.”
“She's agreed to the blood test. She needs time, Marc. You won't win her to your side if you push right now. She's still grappling with everything I've thrown at her, and she doesn't know the half of it yet.”
“Are you sure? Are you sure her ⦠Harding said nothing to her?”
“Nothing is sure, Marc. You know that by now. But I would wager my Jeep that Harding never uttered a word about his past. She was completely stunned.”
“Then we have to keep it that way.”
“She deserves to know everything.”
Marc raised an eyebrow. “Everything? We don't know her that well. Hell, she might have the clue to those bonds without knowing it. If we tell her, she could take everything herself.”
“I don't think so,” Alex said.
“Well, I'm not willing to risk it. And you
can't
say anything. You're bound by attorney-client privilege. The family is your client, and she's not a Clements yet.”
“You're a fine one to be talking about ethics.”
Marc shrugged. “Has she gotten to you? I didn't think she's quite your type.”
“Are you through, Marc?” Alex started to rise.
“For now,” Marc replied. “When are you bringing her back to the ranch?”
“This afternoon for the barbecue.”
Marc nodded. “I don't want her to spend time with Ross.”
“Hell, Ross didn't even show up last night, though I think Sarah expected him. He has little patience with greenhorns.”
“She isn't exactly a greenhorn,” Marc said. “You said she was an exercise girl for her father. She's probably damned good. I'll ask April to take her riding.”
Alex couldn't keep the surprise from his face.
“I thought April was still in Washington.”
“She arrived last night. I think she and my new cousin might get along well together.”
“Maybe,” Alex said dubiously. Marc's two children had been a handful when young, both vying for their father's attention. Unfortunately, he'd been gone much of the time and had spoiled them rotten on the rare occasions they were together. They still hungered for his favor, and couldn't seem to make a life of their own; both planned to work in his senatorial campaign. April had majored in journalism and at twenty-eight was Marc's press secretary. She was talented and ambitious. And, Alex knew, willful. She always wanted what she couldn't have. Still, Alex had always been intrigued by her. They'd even dated for a short time before April had left for Washington, and she'd left him with an itch he'd never recovered from. But he had learned to hide it well. If not, April would use it as a weapon. So would her father.
The one striking thing about April was her unquestioned devotion to her father. And his career.
Marc looked out the window at the tourists. “Smith needs an answer soon, or the deal will fall through.”
“It'll also fall through if this whole thing is handled wrong,” Alex said. “Be patient.”
“I'm still not sure what side you're on.”
“I'm the family's attorney. I'm on the side of the majority.”
“You can sway that majority ⦔
“Can I?”
Marc's lips frowned in disapproval. “Don't play games with me, Alex.”
Alex shrugged. “You give me too much credit. I don't care for the responsibility.”
“You never have,” Marc observed. “But I can tell she likes you.”
“Perhaps, but she doesn't completely trust me. She doesn't like lawyers.”
“Smart girl,” Marc said. “But she'll be happy enough when she realizes she's inheriting a great deal of money.”
“I don't believe money means that much to her. She's never once asked whether there is any kind of inheritance.”
“That much money means a lot to everyone.”
Alex shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“I'm depending on you,” Marc said. He didn't wait for an answer but rose, tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and walked away. He stopped and talked to people on his way out, his face wreathed in a smile. The consummate politician.
And a good one, Alex knew. Marc had been careful to keep any stains from his record, and people liked him. But he needed money if he wanted to be senator. He hadn't been able to raise enough to compete effectively. At least Alex didn't think he had.
Jessica was the key to that money.
Alex picked up his mug and sipped the rest of his coffee. The next few weeks would be very interesting.
Jessie had breakfast at the hotel, then took a cup of coffee down to the creek. She sat on a boulder that overlooked the stream.
She looked up at the huge rock called the Coffee Pot, for obvious reasons. The sun dappled its side, pulling out the various shades of red. Not for the first time, she wished she were competent with a paintbrush. No wonder there were so many artists here.
The land had already grown on her. Grown on her and seeped into her very being.
Was that why she'd finally consented to the blood test?
She'd been hesitant before. It was a commitment of sorts. A negative result would destroy her feeling of being Alice in Wonderland or even Dorothy in Oz. She hadn't been sure she wanted to prick the dream. But after seeing the photos, she had few doubts that Clements blood ran through her.
The creek bubbled along, a musical accompaniment to her thoughts. There had been so many questions asked that she hadn't been able to answer. So many more questions in her own mind.
“Jessie.”
She whirled around to see Alex standing there. “I thought I might find you here after my knocks didn't work.”
“I'm sorry. Am I late?”
“No. I'm a few minutes early. I thought we would get rid of the business early, then drive out to the ranch. They're cooking a side of beef. They probably started it last night.”
“Sounds good.”
“It is.” He looked at her closely. “Having second thoughts about the blood test?”
“No. It's just still a little bewildering.”
“They're really not that bad.”
“I didn't think they were. They're just ⦠overwhelming. I liked Sarah, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No one else?”
“You're fishing.”
“I am,” he admitted shamelessly. “Are you ready?”
No. She wasn't. Not really. She nodded.
They walked silently to her room, where she picked up her handbag. She was wearing a pair of jeans and an embroidered shirt. Barbecue clothes. She hoped.
The morning went quickly. Once they arrived at the medical building, a physician ushered them into his silent office. He'd obviously opened it just for her, and he regarded her with more than a little interest. “And so you are Miss Clements?”
“Clayton,” she corrected.
His eyes twinkled. “I think that's what we're here to find out.”
Several minutes later, she and Alex were walking out of the office. “You must have influence,” she said. “I didn't expect a doctor to do it.”
Alex shrugged. “I didn't think you would want this to be public knowledge. I trust Phil.”
She wondered whether it was the family that didn't want this to become public knowledge, but she quickly shoved the thought out of her consciousness. She was going to enjoy this afternoon.
Ross changed to a pair of clean jeans and shirt. He couldn't delay this any longer. Sarah had been visibly upset this morning, refusing to accept his excuse of a sick horse. “Maybe you want to lose the Sunset,” she said. “I don't.”
“Going to a party isn't going to change that,” he said bitterly.
“It could. And you will like her.”
“The heiress? I don't think so.” He had already pictured a gold digger in his mind.
She frowned at him. “Don't always be a cynic, Ross. She's nothing like that. She doesn't even know about the terms of the will.”
He looked at her skeptically. “I can't believe that Alex hasn't started working on her.”
“You could be nicer to him.”