Texas fury (65 page)

The good-byes were tearful and poignant. There were no dry eyes, Billie noticed.

Riley stood alone in the open doorway.

They were gone. All his family was gone. It was hard to believe that just minutes ago, days ago, the house had been filled to the rafters with laughter and love. Now it was as if they'd never been here. Even the Christmas tree had been dismantled, the ornaments carried back to the attic. Riley felt like he was alone in the Astrodome and someone had just turned off the lights.

He closed the front door and walked through the rooms, the silence roaring in his ears. He clapped his hands overhead just to hear the sound. His pace quickened as he switched on every radio and television set in the house. His reward was a jumble of sound that made him clench his fists.

This emptiness was all his now. His father's home. Now it was all his. He'd cut away his past and centered his whole being here. He couldn't go back now even if he wanted to, which he didn't.

Riley uncapped a bottle of Heineken from the portable bar and sat in a big upholstered chair, his feet on the coffee table. He had four hours to kill until Adam and Sawyer picked him up to go to the airport—all the time in the world—time to think, to plan, to dream. He tried to sit still and think, but he was restless, wired up. He heaved himself out of the chair and began to pace the room.

He parted the curtains at the window. It was cold and gray outside. The bare trees looked old, skeletal and arthritic. They had to be over a hundred years old, he decided. There was

{426}

nothing warm or comforting about the vast expanse of land that stretched before him. He could feel anxiety start to build in him. He could lose all of this—this emptiness, this vast-ness, this barn of a house. His teeth ground together. His fists clenched at his sides. The desire to put both his balled fists through the pane of glass was strong. He knew in that instant he was capable of killing to preserve what was his father's.

A long time ago Nick had told Sawyer there was nothing wrong with wanting it all. Everyone wanted It All. It was the way you went about getting it that mattered, Nick had said. He'd also said it wasn't important if you won or lost, but how you played the game. If it wasn't important, Riley wondered, then why did they keep score? Or was it himself who was keeping score?

Riley walked back to his chair. He polished off the beer and opened another one. He swigged furiously. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had beer at noon.

On an impulse he picked up the phone. He probably wasn't the Buckalews' favorite person these days, but he didn't care. He wondered why she hadn't stopped by. Ivy always stopped by, if only to pester.

"You didn't stop by," Riley blurted when Ivy picked up the phone.

"You didn't either. My rusty bucket of bolts isn't running."

"You want to use my Bronco, it's yours. It's just sitting here."

"You could have dropped me a card," Ivy said coolly.

"You want to go for a sandwich or something?"

"You gonna pick me up like a date? Get out of the car and ring the doorbell?"

"Hell no. I think your father would like it better if he never saw me again."

"Okay, I'll meet you by the gate. How long?"

"You got another date or something?"

"I might. This is the last minute, you know. A girl could get a bad reputation accepting last-minute invitations."

"Be by the damn gate in twenty minutes."

"I don't know anything about Lacey's love life. So don't plan on asking me any questions about her. You still want to pick me up?" Ivy asked fearfully.

"Just be by the damn gate."

Ivy grinned when the phone clicked.

Twenty minutes. Just enough time to fix her makeup and

{427}

put on earrings. Shoot, she should have plucked her eyebrows last night instead of watching television. The gray flannel slacks and electric-blue sweater would do just fine. Riley probably wouldn't notice. He probably wouldn't notice her fashionable haircut, either, or the fact that she now had fingernails all the same size and color. She wondered if she could work in the fact that she'd graduated magna cum laude. The only person so far to be impressed was Lacey.

There was no reason to tell Riley that she and Lacey were good friends these days. They'd even visited each other. Later, maybe she'd tell him. Providing there was a later.

She was waiting at the gate, stomping her feet on the cold driveway to keep them warm. Her heart thumped when the Bronco approached. Her knees felt weak when she climbed into the truck.

Riley looked at her for a long minute. "You look different, squirt."

"That's because I am different," Ivy said sweetly. "I got a haircut and I don't bite my nails anymore. I wear feminine clothes and earrings. And if you plan on mocking me out, say so now and I'll get the hell out of this truck."

"Whoa. I just said you look different."

"You called me a squirt. I don't think I'm a squirt, and I don't look like a squirt. I'm your equal. I managed to graduate magna cum laude. Now what do you have to say?"

"Jesus! You want to climb out and climb back in and we can start over?"

"No. I've said what I had to say. You look awful, Riley. What's wrong? Too much Christmas?"

"I don't really feel in the mood to go public. How about coming back to Sunbridge. There's tons of leftovers."

"That's fine with me. What's with the tons of food?"

"Adam's clearing out of the ranch, and he dumped the contents of his refrigerator into ours. The whole family was home for the holidays. Now it's just me. All by my lonesome, and I'm leaving later this afternoon. One more crack at the South American deal, but I don't have much hope. Then—"

"So this is hello and good-bye?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. Does that bother you?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. Was calling me an afterthought? A way to fill in a few hours?"

"I didn't want to be alone. I walked through that damn house and suddenly I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to talk

{428}

to someone. You weren't a second or third choice. I wanted to talk to you. By the way, you look great."

"I know. I've really been working at it. Have to beat the guys off with a stick. You wouldn't believe the offers I've had," Ivy lied.

"Oh yeah?" Riley said sourly. Ivy tried to hide her smile.

"Yeah. Did you think I was going to wait for you forever?"

"Hell, I didn't know you were waiting. Come off it, Ivy."

"You're a jerk, Riley. Why do you think I was always under your feet? I was happy only when you were chasing me away. When you chased me away you talked to me. You paid attention. I must have been nuts."

Riley ground the Bronco to a halt at the side of the road. "You mean you had a crush on me back then?" he asked stupidly.

"That's a quaint way of putting it. I'd have let you strip me naked in the middle of my father's driveway if that's what you wanted."

"Jesus Christ!" Riley breathed.

"Don't go getting any ideas that I'm easy. You want my body, you're going to fight for it. I should also mention that I'm a virgin. I've been saving myself for you."

"Jesus Christ!"

"You already said that. Be more original. I'm not going to bed with you this afternoon either. I told you I'm saving myself. The only way you get this bod is to marry it. I could probably handle some heavy necking...."

"That's enough of that kind of talk," Riley said.

Ivy smiled as Riley tried three times before he got the Bronco going without stripping the gears.

Riley watched as Ivy carved off thick slices of white meat from the leftover turkey and spread the sandwiches with butter and Russian dressing and a layer of lettuce. She added four cookies to the tray, and some napkins. Riley carried the beer.

They ate with gusto. They talked about everything and anything.

Ivy looked at her watch. "I have to get back, Riley. If that offer of your Bronco still holds, I'd like to take you up on it."

"Sure. Don't run it into the ground, okay? Remember to have the oil checked and put air in the tires once in a while."

"Okay. You can kiss me here," she said, pointing to her cheek. "If you miscalculate, I'll be dragging you upstairs, and

{429}

I'm not ready for that. It isn't in my game plan." Riley did as instructed.

Riley watched the Bronco till it was out of sight. He wished he knew what it was Ivy had to do and why she had to leave. He had to shove these feelings he was experiencing as far back as he could. He had other things on his mind.

Inside the house again, he felt as if he were back in the Astrodome. The emptiness shrieked at him. Ivy's presence had filled the room. He'd felt good for a while. Now Sun-bridge was just a house again. An empty house.

It was almost dark. Time to turn on every light in the house.

In the kitchen he put away the food and washed off the counter.

There was something he had to do, and if he was going to do it, now was the time. In all the years he'd been at Sun-bridge, he'd never climbed the hill behind the house. He'd seen it from the range when he'd been out riding, but he'd never felt the need or the desire to visit the dead. He'd never stood at his mother's grave in Japan, either. That site, too, was a hill. A mountain if you weren't ready to climb it.

Riley clamped his baseball cap on his head. The shearling jacket was old and worn, but warm as toast. He was ready.

Cole and Sumi stood on the balcony of the Coleman apartment at Assante Towers, their arms around each other. There was only an hour left before they'd have to leave for the airport, but Cole knew there was something he had to do in this hour. Even if it meant losing these last few precious minutes with Sumi.

"Sumi, do you mind if I leave you here for a little while?" he asked. He kissed the top of her head. "I have to do something."

"Is it Riley?"

"Yes. I have this feeling that he needs me. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe I want him to need me. I can't explain it. I only know I have to go back."

"I'll be here," she said. "Help him, Cole."

Cole swung his car into the Sunbridge courtyard, noticing at the same time that the Bronco was missing. The whole damn house was lit up like a Christmas tree. He called Riley's name as he walked through the rooms, switching off radios and televisions. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Riley's bag

{430}

was packed, his briefcase next to it. Cole ran back down to the kitchen. Something wasn't right. His eyes swept the room. The coat rack was empty. Riley's shearling jacket always hung there. And his baseball cap was gone, too.

Cole yanked open the drawer where the flashlight was kept. It was gone. He ran to the courtyard, straining his eyes in the darkness. Riley had gone up the hill. From here he could see the tiny beam of light, moving farther away.

Grimly, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, Cole started the climb after his cousin. Riley had gone straight up over the layered snow, ignoring the path. Cole stopped to take a deep breath before approaching the clearing. The small circle of light showed that Riley was moving about. Cole squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the order of the graves. Grandpa Seth, his three horses, all named Nessie; Grandmam Jessie, Grandpa Moss, and then Riley's father's simple cross. That's where he was. The circle of light stopped and then went out. Cole moved closer. He crouched down, ready to spring if Riley had it in his mind to do something stupid. He had no intention of listening to what Riley was saying, but if he were to move now, Riley would hear him and think he was spying. The wind picked up his cousin's words and tossed them into Cole's ears. He listened as Riley bared his soul. Cole bit down so hard on his bottom lip, he drew blood.

He was numb with cold by the time Riley finally moved. The flashlight made a wide, swinging arc, coming to rest on his face. "You were in the area and thought you'd stop by," Riley said quietly.

"How did you know I was here? I didn't make a sound."

"I heard you the minute you stepped on the path."

"I wasn't spying. I thought you might be hurting. I came back because the feeling was so strong."

"I belong here," Riley said, waving his arms wide. "I want to be here."

"I know that, Riley, but you have to tell him."

"I will. I'll write a letter."

"It's easier going down," Cole said quietly, "and I'm not talking about the terrain."

"I'll take your word for it. You've never steered me wrong."

"My ass is frozen; let's go home," Cole grumbled.

"Home?"

"Your home. I'm a visitor. Come on, Riley, we'll all be up

{431}

here soon enough; let's not freeze and give them an edge."

Riley went first, his flashlight low to the ground, pointing the way.

A sound behind Cole made him turn. The ground trembled beneath his feet. The disturbance seemed to be coming from the direction of old Seth's grave. Or was it the obscene burial plots of his horses? The ground continued to shake. Cole's lips drew back in a snarl.

"He belongs here, you old bastard. This is all his now; I've seen to that, and don't you ever forget it!" He didn't feel stupid at all when he shook his balled-up fist in the direction of his great-grandfather's grave.

At the bottom of the hill Cole grabbed Riley's arm. "Did you feel that tremor on the hill?"

"What tremor?"

"It felt like the earth was rumbling, you know. Moving, right under my feet."

"Your feet are cold. That's probably what it was. You coming in?"

"I'll take a rain check. I left Sumi back at the condo. I'd like a little time with her before I have to take her to the airport. Good luck, Riley. You need me, call." His hand shot out, but Riley ignored it. Instead, he reached for his cousin. They clapped each other on the back. "See you around."

"Sooner than you think. You didn't tell me who was going to be your best man."

"I'm looking at him."

"Cole?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"Any time."

Riley sat down at the kitchen table with paper and pen. He'd write the letter to his grandfather now. Now, before he lost his nerve. Writing this letter was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, worse even than the climb up the hill. He prayed a moment for guidance.