"Because of you—your confidence in me."
"You grew up to be the man you were always meant
to be. I didn't have much to do with it."
It wasn't true, but Zach sensed this wasn't the time
to argue.
"Since my heart attack," Harry continued, "I've
been thinking about what to do with the farm once I'm gone. That's why I hired
the investigator."
"To check me out."
"No. No," Harry said with a wave of his
hand. "To reassure myself that Margaret was really unreachable."
Zach couldn't help the nervous knots that tied up in
his stomach. "And did you reassure yourself?"
"I was going to leave it to you, Zach, all of it."
Zach heard the
was
and froze in his seat.
"I can't do that now," Harry said.
"The farm is yours to do with as you wish,"
Zach forced himself to say. "But—may I ask what you are planning to do?"
Harry looked him straight in the eye. "I'm going
to leave it to my granddaughter."
Granddaughter? Zach suddenly put it all together in
his mind. His father, Claire, Margaret, and the only woman who could possibly
be Harry's granddaughter.
"I'm sorry, Zach, but I have to leave the farm to
her," Harry said. "It was Margaret's legacy and now it's hers."
"Hers? Do you want to tell me
her
name?"
Even though he knew, he had to ask the question. He had to be sure.
"Katherine Whitfield."
Damn. Zach got to his feet, propelled by anger and
hurt and a disillusionment he didn't think he was capable of feeling. "Does
Katherine know she's your granddaughter?"
"Yes."
"When?" Zach asked through tight lips.
"Yesterday."
Yesterday! She'd come to his house and made love to
him. They'd touched each other inside and out. He'd thought he knew everything
about her, that she was as exposed, as vulnerable to him, as a woman could be,
but she'd kept one very big secret to herself.
No wonder she'd snuck out without a word. She was
about to steal his life out from under him. Not content with the land and the
farm and the horses, she'd also wanted his heart. Thank God, he hadn't told her
he loved her; he hadn't said the words she wanted to hear. At least he had
something left, some small piece of pride.
"I'm sorry, Zach. I'm sure Katherine will want
your help running the place. She doesn't know one damn thing about horses. She'll
need help, lots of it. Things will go on the same as always."
Zach could barely hear Harry. His blood was roaring
through his veins, anger and fury making him half crazed with the desire to hit
something or someone. He hadn't felt this betrayed when
Because he hadn't loved
No! That wasn't true. He didn't love Katherine. He
didn't even know her. He'd thought she was honest, not a secret in her heart,
not a lie on her lips. He'd been wrong. Dead wrong.
"Zach?"
He looked up at the sound of a woman's voice,
her
voice.
God help him, but he'd never forget the sound of it. And when she entered the
room, Zach looked at Katherine, yet saw a stranger.
"You know?" she asked.
"That you're the Stantons' long-lost
granddaughter? I just found out. Congratulations."
She looked confused. "I— What do you mean?"
"You certainly landed on your feet, didn't you? Was
this why you
really
came to
Was the rest of it just a lie so you could worm your way into the town and see
the lay of the land?"
"I came to find my father," she said, her
eyes now lighting up for battle.
"And did you find him?"
"Not yet."
"Well, I'm sure you will. I'll be going. I don't
want to stand in the way of this family reunion." Katherine put a hand on
his arm as he moved to go past her. He shook it off.
"I'm sorry. I should
have told you last night, but I couldn't find the words."
"That would have
ruined all the fun, wouldn't it?" He dropped his voice down to a hush
meant only for her ears. "Did it give you pleasure to sleep with a man,
knowing you were about to take everything he ever wanted?"
Katherine's eyes widened. "What
are you talking about? I'm not taking anything from you." She looked from
Zach to Harry and then to Claire, who had entered the room with her. "Why
does he think I'm taking something from him?"
Claire looked at her
husband. "You didn't."
"It's hers, Claire.
She's our heir. You told me so yourself. When we're both gone, she'll inherit
the farm."
"I don't want the
farm," Katherine said quickly.
Zach released a bitter,
tortured laugh. "Sure you do. It's what you always wanted. I'll clear my
things out today."
"Zach, no,"
Claire said imploringly. "Harry, say something."
"Don't be ridiculous,"
Harry said. "You're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere, at least
not yet. This is all down the road, Zach. I'm only
telling you now because I want you to know the truth."
"Thanks. I appreciate that. I appreciate
everything you did for me. But it's time to move on. I always knew I wasn't a
let me feel like one. This isn't the place for me. It's Katherine's now. She's
your blood. And that's really what it's all about, isn't it?"
"Zach, wait," Katherine cried.
Zach slammed the door on her words, on the
woman he'd ever let himself love. As his father would say,
It's time to move
on, son, this game has been played out.
"I have to go after him," Katherine said to
Claire. "He doesn't understand. He thinks I lied to him. I just didn't
know how to tell him. It was all so muddled in my mind."
"Zach needs to cool down," Claire said, but
her eyes reflected her worry. "I'm sure he didn't mean what he said about
leaving today. Harry, tell Katherine Zach will be all right."
Harry didn't look so certain. "I don't know,
Claire. I don't know anything anymore."
For the first time Katherine took a good look at her
grandfather, the man who'd sent her mother fleeing halfway across the country.
For some reason she'd expected him to be as strong as an oak tree. But this
aging, thin man with weathered skin and sad brown eyes did not look terrifying.
He did not look nearly as scary as Mitchell, for that matter. How odd that her
mother had run away from one powerful man only to tie herself up with another.
Maybe she'd been seeking what she'd left behind all those years ago.
Harry regarded her with the same thoughtful perusal
she was giving him. "Katherine? May I call you that?"
"Yes."
She felt awkward, not sure if she should call him Mr.
Stanton or Harry or Grandfather—whether she should shake his hand or look down
her nose at him or hope he'd like her.
"Why don't we all sit down?" Claire
suggested. Katherine took a seat on the couch while Claire and Harry sat in the
chairs by the fireplace. For a while the only sound in the room came from the
ticking clock on the desk.
"I didn't realize you and Zach
…"
Claire didn't finish her sentence. "I'm sorry. It's
none of my business."
Katherine felt numb. All she really wanted was a
chance to talk to Zach, to try and explain why she hadn't told him about her
connection with the
She hadn't deliberately lied to him, and she certainly hadn't known anything
about the horse farm or the
plans to leave it to her. But even if she could catch up to Zach, she doubted
he would listen. He was too angry. The cold fury in his eyes had scared the
heck out of her.
"You should leave the farm to Zach, or do
whatever it is you intended to do," Katherine said abruptly. "I didn't
come here to mix everything up. And I don't know the first thing about horses."
"You'll learn," Harry said. "Sam can
teach you. If Zach wants to go, he can go."
Harry sounded so heartless, like he didn't care that
he'd just destroyed Zach's dream. For a moment Katherine caught a glimpse of
the man Harry must have been when her mother had come to him with the biggest
problem of her life.
"Did you say the same thing to my mother?" Katherine
asked. "When she refused to give me up?"
Harry didn't even blink. "Your mother did what
she wanted to do."
"Did she have a choice?"
"Did she have a choice to have a baby out of
wedlock? Yes, I think she did," Harry replied.
"Perhaps it was a mistake, an accident. You didn't
have to kick her out of the house."
"Katherine," Claire interrupted. "There's
a lot more to the story than you know."
"I'm sure there is. I'm not sure I want to hear
it."
"Your mother never wanted to hear anything
either," Harry said. "She was incredibly stubborn."
"And we both know where she got that from."
Claire frowned at Harry. "Don't you think we could tell Katherine some of
the good things about Margaret?"
"I have work to do." Harry stood up and
nodded to Katherine. "Let Sam know when you want to look around the place.
He can show you the ropes. You can start out slow, learn as you go."
"I don't want to learn. I'm not sure I even like
horses."
"You sound just like Margaret." Claire put a
hand to her mouth and blinked back a tear. "I think she might have said
those very words the day she left." She stood up and reached out a hand to
her husband.
He stared at it for a moment, then took her hand
within his, joining them together, a pair against one, against her. "Horses
are our family business, and you're part of the family," he said.
"My mother didn't like the horses?"
Katherine asked.
"Harry gave Margaret her first horse when she was
five years old. She loved riding then, but Princess got sick and died a few
years later, and something went out of Margaret when that happened."
"Princess?" Katherine echoed. Her mother had
had a horse named Princess?
"Yes. After that, Margaret avoided the stables
and spent most of her time in the garden." Claire paused. "Did she
have a garden where you lived?"
"We had plants in our apartment when I was small.
All over the place as I recall." Katherine felt the words choke her
throat. She hadn't thought about that apartment in years. "When she
married Mitchell, he had incredible gardens behind the house and a full-time
gardener to take care of them. I remember my mother walking out there every
night at sunset."
"Was she happy?" Claire asked, a desperate
note in her voice.
Katherine heard the yearning in Claire's voice and was
helplessly touched. Whatever her reasons for letting Margaret go, Claire, at
least, had loved her daughter.
"I think so," Katherine replied. "She
did love
We went to the beach all the time, and she always said the ocean made her feel
peaceful, satisfied."
"That's something, I guess."
Katherine stood up. "I must go to Zach. I need to
explain."
"Talk to Zach, then come back," Claire said.
"I want to show you Margaret's room. I want to tell you about her."
And Katherine wanted to know, God help her. She wanted
as many details as Claire did. "All right. I'll come back—for a while
anyway." She looked over at Harry, who hadn't said anything, just watched
her with his sharp cold eyes. "I don't know why you would want to leave
your farm, your business, to me, when Zach has poured his heart, his soul, into
this place."
"This farm has been in the
the last of that family."
"I'm not sure I want your farm."
"And I'm not sure I want to give it to you,"
he said shortly. "But we both have a duty to family."
"I don't have a duty to you. I don't even know
you. You kicked my mother out. I owe you nothing."
"Maybe you owe your mother something."
"If she'd wanted me to know about you, she would
have told me."
"Maybe she would have—if she'd lived,"
Claire interjected. "Margaret had a good life here, Katherine."
"Then why didn't she ever come back?" Claire
couldn't give her an answer. Neither could Harry.
"Maybe my father could answer that question,"
Katherine said. "Are you sure neither of you knows who he is?"
"We don't," Claire said. "If we did—"
"I would have killed him," Harry finished.
Katherine saw the cold anger in his eyes and began to
understand why her mother had kept that one secret to herself.