Heart Of Gold (34 page)

“So
what's the problem?”

“I
don't... I can't trust you.”

Nick
swore under his breath and then, moving so fast she didn't have time to pull
away, he took her into his arms. His mouth came down hard over hers and, after
struggling for a moment, she gave in to him. The sounds of the storm faded and
all she knew was the feel of him against her, of his hands in her hair and his
tongue sliding over hers.

Abruptly,
he pulled back. “Can't you trust this?”

Slowly
she shook her head. “Only a fool relies on a forest fire for warmth.”

He let
her move away.

After
that, they didn't say much else.

Throughout
the night, storms kept barreling down the lake valley. Neither was able to
sleep. When the fierce weather finally left the area in the early morning, the
quiet that reigned in its wake was disorientating. As dawn arrived, Carter
found herself listening to water droplets falling on the ground and the roof of
the tent. There was a lovely rhythm to the soft sounds.

Nick got
up and put his jacket on. “I'll be right back.”

After he
left, she laid down, keenly aware of the throbbing in her hand. Grateful to be
stretched out, she closed her eyes and sank into a dreamless state of
exhaustion.

* * *

Outside,
Nick walked around and surveyed the damage. The camp was a wreck. All of the
other tents had collapsed, the tarp over the mess area was laying in a tangled
heap, and there was mud everywhere.

He went
over to the stream. It was twice its normal size and rushing down the mountain
in a torrent of white spray. Kneeling down, he splashed his face. With water
dripping into his eyes and off of his chin, he went out to see the sunrise over
the lake.

He
watched as light exploded into the sky and wanted to go wake Carter up. He knew
he couldn't, however. So he stood alone for a long time, staring out over the
view, missing her though she was only yards away.

When he
returned to camp, he stuck his head into the tent. In the dim light, he could
see Carter's chest rising and falling. Her dark hair was spilling over the
pillow and she had one leg kicked out to the side. He was watching her sleep
when she woke up.

“What
are you standing there for?” she asked in a groggy voice.

“We
need to get you to a doctor.”

With a
groan, she sat up. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves that he wanted to
run his hands through.

“What
time is it?”

He didn't
have to check his watch. “Early still. But we should go.”

With a
grimace, she got to her feet. Instead of arguing with him, she simply put on
her coat and walked out of the tent. That's when he knew she was in pain.

In the
fragile light of dawn, they took to the trail. It was god-awful to watch her
move stiffly and hold her arm away from her body as if she was afraid of
knocking it. He wished like hell there was something he could do to make the
trip easier on her. Between the fallen tree limbs, the residual flooding, and
Carter's quiet suffering, he thought they would never see the mansion.

As soon
as they broke out of the woods, Buddy, Ellie, and Cort came rushing across the
lawn. They were smiling with relief, but the happy group stopped short when
they saw the bandage and Carter's tense features.

“What
happened?” Buddy asked.

“Run-in
with the handsaw,” Carter muttered through pale lips. She quickly told
them what had happened.

“I'm
taking her into town,” Nick said. “Do me a favor, have Gertie call
ahead. She knows who we're going to see.”

Nick
packed Carter into his truck, threw a chainsaw in the back, and then eased them
out onto the main road. He was careful to drive with a steady hand.

All
around them, the devastation was formidable.

Streams
flooded the road, tree limbs were down, and at one point, there was a fallen
oak blocking their way. Using the chainsaw, he deftly cut the tree into hunks
that he tossed over to the shoulder. When he was back in the cab, he saw Carter
was wearing a sad smile.

At his
look of inquiry, she explained, “I was remembering the first picture I saw
of you. It must have been when I was still in college. You'd just
started to make a killing on Wall Street.” A short laugh left her lips.
“You were considered one of the most eligible bachelors in America.”

He eased
the truck back on the road.

“I
don't remember that one,” he said, hoping she'd keep talking.

“It
was on the cover of some finance magazine. You were staring out at the camera
and your expression was brutally serious. You looked much older than someone in
his late twenties, which was how old the article said you were. I remember that
a group of girls was crowded around the magazine. They thought you would make a
dream husband.”

“What
did you think?”

“I
wasn't so sure. But the reason I smiled was because I never would have imagined
that the same man would be bent over a fallen tree in the middle of the Adirondacks, wearing my pink scrubs, clearing the way for me to get to the doctor.”

He shot a
long look in her direction. “I'm glad you're letting me help you.”

Nick
waited for a response but she didn't answer him. Instead, she just put her head
back against the seats and closed her eyes.

After
being treated by the town's doctor, Carter was feeling relieved and
considerably more comfortable as Nick pulled the truck back into the garage.
She was also exhausted.

“Would
you like some breakfast?” he asked.

“Actually,
I could use some shut-eye.”

“I've
got plenty of beds.”

She
thought about the wet campsite, her muddy tent, the stiff cot, the fact that
she was so tired she could feel the fatigue in her bones.

“Thanks.
Something soft and dry sounds great.”

Once she'd
had something to eat, Nick led her back to the bedroom she'd used before. He
lingered in the doorway.

“Do
you need anything?”

She shook
her head. “Gertie's French toast can soothe a multitude of ills.”

“Good
napping, then.”

Carter
offered him a small, tight smile. “Thanks again for your help.”

“You're
welcome.”

She
tensed as Nick breached the doorway and approached her. His hand came out and
rested on her shoulder.

“What
is it going to take to get you to believe in me?”

She
shrugged sadly, having little faith in his voice.

His eyes
searched hers and then he dropped his hand. His expression hardened.

“I
can't keep apologizing to you. I'm just not going to keep doing this,” he
muttered.

As he
turned away, the warmth left his face.

“Enjoy
your solitude.” He shut the door sharply behind him.

Carter
sank down on the bed.

She
recognized the look on his face. It was the one he'd worn when they'd first
met. Impregnable, remote, fierce.

It was
over, she realized, going numb. He was going to give her what she asked for. He
was going to walk away.

So why
didn't she feel relieved? This was supposed to make her feel better. Ease the
torment. It was exactly what she wanted.

Dragging
herself to the bathroom, she shed her clothes and got under the shower. As hot
water beat down on her, she bowed her head, letting it run over her shoulders.

She had
to wonder why making the right choice hurt so much.

* * *

Wessex went in search of
Nick, having heard that Carter and he had returned from the doctor's. When he
found the man in his study, barking orders into the phone, he noticed the
change in his business partner immediately. Farrell looked positively dark.

Wessex paused in the
doorway and wondered what had happened. Nick had seemed so concerned when he'd
gone up the mountain to get Carter. Now, all that warmth had vanished, as if it
had never existed, and the man seemed colder than ever before.

When Wessex was ushered in by an impatient hand, he shut the door and took a seat. He listened
as Nick spoke in short bursts of well-chosen words.

“So
I'll leave for Japan in two days then,” the man growled. “Let them
try and turn the terms down to my face. I'll eat them alive in their boardroom
and they damn well know it.”

Nick hung
up the phone and shifted opaque eyes across his desk.

Wessex hesitated. There
were many questions on his mind, particularly about his daughter, but he had a
feeling he wasn't going to get answers to them. Nick didn't look as if he'd be
open to personal discussions of any kind.

“So,
what are we going to do about Packert?” he asked instead.

Nick
leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm looking
forward to crushing him and then breaking up CommTrans.”

“You're
going to sell it off?” Wessex was taken aback. “But that wasn't part
of the plan. I'll grant that Packert's been a fool but why—”

“Because
I feel like it. CommTrans is going to be a distant memory in one year's time.
Packert's legacy is going to be dust.”

“But
you don't need the money and it's—”

“Getting
squeamish all of a sudden?”

Wessex stared across the
desk and found himself wondering how someone that young got to be that hard.

“So
are you in or not?” Nick's words were curt.

“I'm
in,” Wessex answered slowly. “But I do think you should
reconsider—”

“Whatever
I do to the damn thing after I own it is no one's business but my own.”

Nick
picked up the phone and Wessex knew he'd been dismissed. As he stood up and
straightened his blazer, he wished there was some way to reach out to the
younger man.

“Have
a good trip back to the city,” Nick told him as he dialed. “And you
should remind Packert to enjoy the limousine. When I get done with him, he'll
be lucky if he can afford cab fare.”

Wessex was deep in
thought as he left the study, wondering what had happened between his daughter
and Nick. Going by the vengeful expression on the man's face, it seemed
unlikely things had been resolved.

As he
turned the corner into the dining room, he ran into Packert. Looking into the
Texan's'eyes, he winced a little, thinking about what was coming the man's way.

“What's
wrong with you?” Packert asked, carrying a plate laden with food from a
buffet set up on the sideboard.

Wessex wasn't about to
explain that the man's net worth was about to go to zero.

“Forgive
me,” he replied evenly. “I'm a bit distracted.”

“Well,
cheer up! We're getting out of here today.” The Texan clapped him on the
shoulder with a meaty hand. “Say, you're a little on the thin side. You
best eat up before we head off.”

Wessex became aware of a
pounding between his ears and decided that lunch with Packert wasn't going to
improve the headache. Making an excuse, he escaped out a side door into the
balmy, summer air. With no particular destination in mind, he headed down to
the lake and found some solace in the sound of the waves lapping against the rock
shore. In the aftermath of the storm, everything smelled fresh and lush, and he
took deep breaths as he walked along the shoreline. When his wandering took him
over to the boathouse, he went out onto the dock, his sleek loafers clipping
against the damp wood. Clasping his hands behind his back, he leaned forward
and looked down into the water.

As the
fish swam by, he was thinking of the past. And wondering with a sad ache
whether he would see his daughter again.

* * *

Up at the
mansion, from the porch outside the bedroom she'd been given, Carter watched
her father's promenade.

Despite
her exhaustion, she'd been unable to sleep. She'd stayed in bed until
frustration had gotten the best of her. Opening a pair of French doors wide,
she'd stepped outside, taking her discontent with her into the sunlight.

The first
thing she'd noticed was her father's slow progress down to the shore. With his
hands linked behind his back, and his head down as if he were deep in thought,
he strolled over the grass. She'd watched as he went out onto the dock.

Carter
made up her mind. Moving quickly, she went inside, got dressed, and made up the
bed. She was out of the house a moment later, treading over the same lawn her
father had just crossed.

He turned
when he heard her footsteps on the dock. Surprise and hope flickered over his
features.

“The
water is really clear, isn't it,” Carter said casually as she came up
beside him.

“Yes.
Quite remarkably so.” His smile held a tentative welcome. He glanced at
her hand. “How does it feel?”

She wiggled
her fingers. "As well as it could, I suppose”

She
wasn't sure what to say next and neither did he, apparently. They stood a few
feet apart and looked into the water.

“You're
going back to the city now?” she asked in a soft voice.

“As
soon as Packert is finished with lunch. He has the alarming alacrity of a fast
eater but the portion control of a gorilla. It could be a while.”

Carter
smiled slightly, glancing over at him.

“I
was very worried about you last night,” Wessex told her after a pause.

“I
can't say I enjoyed the experience, but it turned out alright in the end.”
Abruptly, she was struck by an idea. “Have you seen what's upstairs
here?”

“No.”

“You've
got to take a look at this,” she said with sudden urgency, leading him
inside the boathouse and up the cramped set of stairs.

When they
got to the second floor and he saw the train set, Wessex let out a delighted
whistle.

“I
had the same reaction when I first saw it.” Carter went over and flipped
the master switch.