Chapter Five
Sheltered by the patio umbrella, Lila sat in her favorite chair beside the pool. One hand cradled her phone as she waited for the ring and the one voice that would give her comfort.
Burying Millie that morning had left her drained.
As the dirt clods fell from the backhoe onto that lifeless body, she’d felt as if they were crushing her heart.
But she’d stayed until the backhoe had finished the grave and been driven off to the shed.
Then she’d arranged a few wildflowers in a heart shape on the fresh earth, whispered a word of farewell, and allowed her daughter to escort her back to the house.
Gemma had never been fond of horses—or any other kind of animal. She had tolerated her mother’s grief but not really understood it. However, she was competent and caring with people, qualities that would make her an excellent nurse when she graduated from the program at TCU.
Gemma had seated Lila on the patio, checked the dressing on her arm, and brought out her customary glass of iced tea. Then she’d disappeared inside the house to do her schoolwork. Lila sipped the tea. It was too sweet, not the way she liked it, but at least it was cold.
The mid-August day was already getting hot.
The late-morning sun cast glints of gold on the surface of the pool.
Hummingbirds buzzed among the honeysuckle blossoms where the vine grew over the wrought-iron fence.
After a sleepless night and emotional morning, Lila was tired, but she wanted to take Roper’s call outside, where it was peaceful and private.
Mariah, who had returned unexpectedly last night, had begun rattling pans in the kitchen.
Lila had given her time off to visit her sister, but evidently the two of them had quarreled, and now Mariah was back home.
The longtime Culhane cook was none too pleased that Gemma had moved things around in her kitchen.
The banging and clanging of pans was her way of showing displeasure.
Once Lila would have been glad for Mariah’s return. But now that she’d learned the woman was acting as a spy for Darrin and Simone, all trust was gone. No place in the house was safe from Mariah’s sharp eyes and ears.
Lila was getting drowsy when the phone jangled. Checking the caller ID, she felt her pulse quicken.
“How are you doing, Boss?” The undercurrent of tension in Roper’s voice told Lila that things weren’t going well for him.
“The burial’s done,” she said. “I know that death is part of having animals, but I loved that sweet girl. I’m sad, but I’ll be all right.”
“I know you loved her. So did I. Lila—”
“How are things with you?” She cut him off. When he called her by her name, it tended to be when he had something serious to say. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it. “How are the stallions?” she asked. “Are they settling down?”
“One in a Million’s coming around, though I haven’t tried to saddle him yet.
I’m most worried about Fire Dance. No one can get near him, not even Hayden.
He could have an injury that’s giving him pain, but the vet’s not seeing anything from outside the stall.
It sucks that I’ll probably miss the Shootout.
I might have to miss the big event as well.
But that can’t be helped. It’s the horses that matter. ”
“I’m sorry.” Lila ached for him. “Hopefully, this is the worst of it. I’ll see you tomorrow when our flight gets in. Things are bound to be looking up by then.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Lila,” he said. “You mustn’t come. It’s not a good idea anymore.”
“What?” Lila gripped the phone, which she’d nearly dropped. “Of course, I’m coming. We’ve got the plane tickets and the hotel reservations. We talked about this.”
“I know we did. But you’re barely out of the hospital. You need to rest.”
“I can rest in the hotel. I’ll have two full days and most of Saturday to take it easy before the Run for a Million. And Gemma will be with me.”
“Yes, but there’s more. That so-called accident on the freeway was probably meant for you. If someone wants to kill you, you’ll be setting yourself up as a target here. And think about this. What if I don’t have a horse I can show? You’ll have made the trip for nothing.”
“What if you do have a horse? What if you win, and I’m not there to see you? I’m willing to take that chance, Roper. You can expect me Thursday evening. I’ll call you when we’re checked in.”
Before Roper could argue, Lila ended the call. With a sigh, she laid the phone on the side table. Roper was too stubborn to call her back. And even if he did, she wouldn’t answer. She could be stubborn, too, and her mind was made up.
But Lila knew the man she loved. And she understood the real reason Roper was telling her to stay away. Sam Rafferty had followed him to Las Vegas. If Sam decided that the evidence was sufficient to make an arrest, Roper could be led away from the arena in handcuffs.
That sight was one that Roper wouldn’t want her to see. But for Lila, it was one more compelling reason for her to be there. If the worst happened, she would start the legal fight for his innocence that very day—that very hour, if she could.
For that fight, she would need her strength.
“Are you ready to go in, Mom?” Gemma had come outside. She was tall, thin, and pale, like Lila’s grandmother, her light brown hair trimmed to a manageable pixie cut. Dressed in khaki slacks and a pale green blouse, she was as plainspoken and sensible as she looked.
Lila rose without help and walked across the patio, ignoring her daughter’s proffered hand. She’d been babied long enough.
“Mariah said to tell you that lunch will be served at twelve thirty,” Gemma said. “I offered to help, but she shooed me out of the kitchen as if I had the plague. I don’t remember her being so grouchy before. When I lived here, growing up, she seemed quite nice.”
Lila gave her a wry smile. “As your great-grandma would say, there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then. There’s a war going on over this house and the ranch. And as far as Mariah’s concerned, we’re the enemy.”
Simone had tried on every outfit in her closet, from flowery summer sundresses to the elegant party frocks in fabrics like silk, chiffon, and lamé that she’d worn back home in Dallas.
She’d looked like a tiny-waisted princess back then, floating into her parents’ country-club dances and dinners.
Now the gowns would no longer fit over the growing lump of her belly.
Either the zippers wouldn’t close or the full skirts made her look like a pregnant elephant hiding under a tent.
Aunt Cora, her mother’s sister, had rhapsodized about how expectant mothers had a special glow about them. But Simone wasn’t glowing. She was getting bigger and more repulsive every day. Her husband didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t even want to touch her, except to punish her.
She was supposed to love the baby growing inside her. But when was that supposed to happen? So far, she felt nothing, except for the awareness that she was carrying the only legitimate Culhane heir.
That was her power. She would learn to use it.
Simone’s gowns, stripped from their hangers, lay scattered on the bed.
Even if they still fit her, she would have no place to wear them in a flea-bitten, one-horse town like Willow Bend.
She was smothering here, with nothing to do but read magazines, watch TV, and get fat on chocolate-fudge ice cream.
Frustrated, she scooped up the dresses and bundled them in her arms. The fragrance of perfumes she no longer wore rose from the delicate fabric as she carried them across the bedroom and stuffed them into the back of closet. Then she pulled on her blue sweats and left the bedroom.
She could hear Darrin’s Mercedes pulling into the driveway. He’d been in court that morning. His mood would depend on how his case had gone.
Through the living room window, she watched him climb out of the car.
His shoulders were slumped, his tie loosened—a sign that he must have lost. Darrin wasn’t a great lawyer or even a good one.
She couldn’t depend on him to win their lawsuit against Lila Culhane.
The attempt at a hit on the freeway had failed, and he didn’t seem inclined to try again.
If she wanted to raise her family on the Culhane ranch, in the Culhane mansion, Simone knew that she couldn’t wait around for her weak husband to do his job. Their future would have to depend on her.
Earlier that morning, Simone had received a call from Mariah at the ranch house.
It appeared that Lila and her daughter would be flying to Las Vegas for the big event.
The rattlesnake bite Lila had suffered, purely by accident, had left her weakened.
And she would be away from home—a rare chance for Simone to put things right for her future family.
Feet dragging, thoughts churning, Darrin mounted the steps.
The property-damage suit he’d lost in court should’ve been a slam dunk.
But he’d found himself so preoccupied with last night’s phone call that he’d blown it wide open.
His client, now owing the plaintiff $25,000 for the death of a prize bull that had wandered in front of his truck, was probably mad enough to kill him.
Last night’s call from an alleged unknown brother had ended without giving him a chance to ask questions.
Was it a prank? Maybe some kind of blackmail?
Was it fake—or could it be real? Frank Culhane had been a notorious womanizer.
But so far, aside from Miss Crystal Carter’s unborn baby, no illegitimate bastards had turned up. So why now?
Another question: What should he do about the phone call? Ignore it? Hire an investigator? Meet the caller in Las Vegas?
And what was he supposed to tell Simone?