The Truth (19 page)

Finally settling on the only pair of slacks she’d brought and a simple sweater, she’d just turned toward the bathroom when there was a knock on the door. Throwing a robe over her towel, she opened the door, surprised to see Darla Mae on the other side.

Smiling sweetly, Darla Mae asked, “May I come in?”

Lexie held the door open and let her enter. “What can I do for you?” She asked smartly, not buying her nice girl act for a minute.

“Grayson mentioned you might not have packed the appropriate dinner attire. I thought I might be able to help.” Darla Mae laid a red dress across the bed.

Stammering, Lexie tried to speak. “That’s very nice of you, but I did pack a pair of slacks I was going to wear.”

Darla Mae looked at her sympathetically. “It’s your choice, of course, but I would recommend you take me up on my offer. Lydia Hunter likes things her way. I’d hate to see your second impression play out as badly as your first.”

With those words, Darla Mae turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving the dress on the bed and silently closing the door behind her.

Lexie looked down at the dress. It seemed innocent enough. So why did she get the feeling it wasn’t? She supposed it could be laced with itching powder, or previously worn by a dead relative causing Mrs. Hunter to break out into hysterics. She shook her head and laughed at herself.

“What’s funny, Mom?” Ryan asked, walking into the room tugging on his shirt collar.

Kneeling down, she told him it was nothing as she tucked his shirt into the back of the khaki pants she’d packed for him, and straightened his hair.

“Grayson told me to tell you dinner’s in fifteen minutes.” He said, plopping on the bed. “Why do I have to wear this just to eat dinner?” He tugged on his collar again.

“Mrs. Hunter wanted to have a fancy dinner to welcome us to her home,” Lexie explained, heading for the mirror to put on her make-up.

Ryan grunted and continued to pull on his collar.

Lexie slipped into the dress, surprised at how well it fit her. It was sleeveless and tied around the waist, falling just below her knees with a small gathering of red feathers at the hem. She pulled on the simple black pumps she’d brought, and stood studying her reflection in the mirror. She looked good, and she wasn’t itching, so far so good, she thought. Taking Ryan’s hand, they headed down the stairs to the dining room.

A tall, older man in a black suit and white gloves nodded his head in greeting to them and waved them toward the two empty seats on either side of Lydia Hunter. That she hadn’t burst into tears when she saw the dress was another good sign. Lexie allowed herself to relax, and sipped on a glass of champagne that had been placed in front of her.

Grayson was sitting beside Ryan and Darla Mae beside her. He smiled broadly when a taller, somewhat older version of him walked into the dining room. Standing at the end of the table, Grayson’s father smiled warmly at his son, his happiness to see him shone through his eyes. Grayson stood up from the table and embraced him.

With his arm around his father, the two of them walked toward Ryan. “Dad, this is my son, Ryan. Ryan, this is your grandfather, William Hunter.”

With wonder in his eyes, William Hunter bent down and took Ryan’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said, shaking his hand. “I understand you like the horses and would like to go for a ride.”

Ryan nodded his head hard enough to lose his balance on the chair. William laughed, a wonderful baritone sound, and steadied Ryan on his chair.

“I would love it if you would go riding with me tomorrow.” William looked over at Lexie with warm, yet observant eyes. “That is, if it’s okay with your mom.”

“Can I, Mom? Please?” Ryan begged.

“I think he would enjoy that,” she replied to William. Then turning to her son, she added, “But you have to promise to do exactly as William tells you. Best behavior, deal?”

Ryan’s eyes lit up, and he nodded his head again. “Oh, thank you, William, thank you. I promise to be good.”

“If you’re okay with it, I’d very much like it if you called me Grandfather.” William’s eyes were misty as he took his place at the head of the table.

Lexie glanced over at Lydia and wasn’t surprised to see the disapproval in her eyes. She wasn’t going to accept Ryan until she had hard evidence, that much was clear.

The servers placed bowls of spicy pumpkin soup in front of each of them. The aroma made her mouth water, and it wasn’t until then that she realized she hadn’t eaten anything but airplane peanuts all day. She reached for her spoon and paused. Everyone was sitting quietly with their hands in their laps. Ryan lifted his spoon and stirred it around his soup bowl, causing it to slosh from the bowl and onto the charger beneath. Noticing the disapproval on Lydia’s face, she reached over and placed her hand over his to still his spoon.

“Why is nobody eating?” Ryan whispered loudly. “Do they not like it either?”

William reached for his spoon and winked at Ryan. “It’s delicious, give it a try,” he coaxed.

She realized that everyone had been waiting for William to begin eating first. Strange ritual, she thought, but one she would be sure to remember during her stay.

Ryan took a spoonful of the soup and scrunched his face, swallowing it loudly. “Mom, this is gross, do I have to eat it?”

“Ryan, you’re being rude,” she scolded quietly into his ear. “The proper thing is to eat part of it — without complaining.”

“But it tastes like hot punkin pie,” he replied, again in a very loud whisper. “I don’t like punkin pie. It’s gross.”

“I didn’t like pumpkin pie when I was a boy either,” William said pushing his bowl from him. “I think you and I should wait for the next course. You like pork chops, I hope.”

Ryan beamed with relief. “I love ’em,” he replied.

Lexie smiled thankfully at William, and lifted her spoon. The soup was wonderful, and she finished every drop. She wanted to lift the bowl and lick it clean, and would have loved to see Lydia’s face if she had.

Feeling eyes on her, Lexie looked over at Lydia, and caught the disapproving glare. Now what, she thought, remaining silent.

“Your dress is an interesting color. Do you wear a lot of red?” Lydia asked, her nose wrinkled with disapproval.

“Pardon me?” Lexie asked, uncomfortable with the look on her face.

“Do you wear a lot of red?” Lydia repeated.

Lexie looked down at herself. Interesting color? It was red, a simple shade of red. Looking back up, she studied Lydia, and tried to understand exactly what she was getting at. “I wear it occasionally.”

“Well, I suppose it would be just a color to you,” Lydia said arrogantly. “My people tend to shy away from colors that are meant for brothels and street corners.”

Heat rose up Lexie’s face, and she glared across the table at Darla Mae. Now she understood why she’d been so helpful with her wardrobe. She whipped her head around to give Lydia a piece of her mind, but before she could get the words out, Grayson stood up and curtly asked his mother if they could speak in the kitchen.

Lydia smiled innocently at him, and quietly followed him from the dining room.

“Lexie, please accept my apologies on my wife’s behalf. I don’t know what has gotten into her. I’m sure she didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” William said, trying to calm the situation.

She smiled at him and lifted her glass. “She meant exactly what she said,” she muttered to herself.

When Grayson and Lydia returned to the dining room, he mouthed he was sorry and sat quietly waiting.

“Mother,” he prompted, “don’t you have something you would like to say?”

Looking as if she was attempting to speak with a mouth full of broken glass, she said, “Lexie, I apologize for my choice of words.”

Smiling sweetly, Lexie replied, “No, you’re right. I should have realized this was a dress best suited for a paid professional the moment I borrowed it from Darla Mae.”

Lexie hid her smile by taking another sip of her champagne, as both Darla Mae and Lydia gasped in shock.

Grayson found Lexie swaying in a tall white rocking chair on the side of the house. The sun was setting behind the trees on the other side of the pasture, shooting bright orange streaks across the sky.

“It’s beautiful here this time of night,” he said, sitting down in the empty chair beside her.

She nodded, and continued to rock, staring straight ahead. He watched her, studying her profile in the dim light. Her long eyelashes fluttered softly, and her lips pursed out in a thoughtful pout. Small wisps of her dark hair blew across her cheeks, caressing her skin. Desperate to reach out and stroke her cheeks, or to kiss the tenseness from her lips, he forced himself to sit back in the chair and look away from her.

“I can’t apologize enough for my mother’s behavior today.” He said in a genuine tone. “I don’t understand her, so I can’t even begin to explain the why’s to you.”

“She doesn’t like me. I’m okay with that. I’m not too fond of her either, if we’re going to be honest,” Lexie told him.

“I don’t think she’s ever met anyone like you,” he said chuckling. “I don’t think there’s been a time in her life where someone’s spoken back to her.”

She turned and looked at him. “She doesn’t want to believe Ryan is your son. Are you planning on taking him in for a blood test? He’s scared to death of needles, you know.”

“Not now.” Grayson kicked his feet up on the railing of the porch. “It may come down to that for legal purposes, but I know he’s my son, and that’s all that really matters.”

“What legal purposes?” She asked, her voice laden with fear.

Turning to look at her, he was surprised by the anxiety on her face. “I was referring to Ryan’s legal right to inherit all of this someday.” Grayson waited for her to meet his eyes before asking, “Do you honestly still believe that I would take Ryan from you?”

Looking away from him, she didn’t answer.

The pain in her silence was excruciating. How could she believe him capable of destroying their family? Maggie may have given birth to Ryan, but Lexie was his mother. And sadly, she didn’t have the slightest bit of faith in him.

Breaking the silence, Lexie’s voice was venomous when she asked, “Is that her problem, that he would be next in line for the Hunter throne?”

Grayson sighed loudly, struggling to calm his anger. He wanted to shake her, scream and yell, make her realize the damage she was causing by having lost faith in him, by letting her fears and insecurities cloud her judgment. This was not about his mother or her inability to accept that he had a son, this was about Lexie, and her inability to believe he only wanted what was best for Ryan; and her too, if he were to be honest. Everything he’d ever dreamt of had been right at his fingertips, and in one crushing blow, Lexie had scattered them to the winds.

“Grayson?”

He turned to look at her, realizing she’d been waiting for his answer. He stood up, sadly shaking his head. “Good night, Lexie. I’ll check on Ryan before I turn in.”

Without waiting for her to reply, he walked away, leaving her alone on the porch.

• • •

Lexie wiped the tear from her cheek, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them. She was such an idiot. Why couldn’t she just believe Grayson when he told her he had no intentions of taking Ryan away? Why did she still wonder if he’d known about Maggie’s pregnancy and chose to ignore it?

Everything she’d learned about him, told her he wasn’t capable of such cruelty, but still she questioned him. She hoped it was due to the truth that things weren’t adding up, and not because she was incapable of trusting him.

She jumped, startled by the sound of an angry voice cutting through the silence. The voice was Darla Mae’s. Curious, she tiptoed down the steps onto the grass and slowly made her way toward her.

Darla Mae had her back to Lexie and was speaking into her cell phone. “I don’t know how he found out,” she snapped. “I just know he knows.” She ran her hand through her hair in obvious frustration.

Stepping behind a tree to avoid being seen, Lexie wondered who the “he” was.

“I don’t know.” Darla Mae paused. “I know that, I’m not an idiot.” There was another pause as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone. “How is
this
my fault?”

An owl howled above her, causing her to squeak in surprise. Darla Mae whipped around but Lexie managed to flatten herself against the large tree and remain undetected.

“It’s William we need to worry about. He’s as happy as a pig in mud.”

Lexie wished she could hear the other side of the conversation. Something about this made her uneasy, a gut reaction she couldn’t identify.

“I’m trying. What do you want me to do that I haven’t already tried?”

The back door opened emitting a path of light across the lawn. “Mommy?” she heard Ryan call out. “Are you out here?”

“I’ve got to go, the brat has the door hanging wide open and I don’t need anyone to see me outside in the dark on the damn phone.”

Lexie held her breath.

Darla Mae’s voice softened, “Ryan, honey, your mom’s not out here, it’s just me. Go on back inside now.”

The door closed and Darla Mae’s voice hardened. “Yes, I know. Don’t I always?”

Lexie heard the phone snap closed and watched Darla Mae walk in through the back door. She waited a few minutes before she rounded the house by the porch and let herself inside.

The air was still crisp, but the sun was already drying the dew from the grass outside the barn. Ryan was bouncing with unconcealed excitement as Grayson saddled the horse they’d be riding.

“Can we go fast?” He asked, tugging on Grayson’s sleeve.

“We have to start slow, but we can work up to fast.” Grayson answered, sliding the bit into Abby’s mouth and securing the bridle behind her ears.

William laughed from up in his saddle. “You’re a natural horseman, Ryan. You’ll be racing over these hills in no time.”

“Ready?” Grayson asked.

Ryan nodded, standing in awe as he looked from the horse to Grayson.

“Abby’s a good girl, she won’t hurt you. Don’t worry,” Grayson said, waving to the stable hand that walked over with a step stool.