A Woman's Touch (11 page)

„That’s it. Not much to look at.“ Alice took better care of the barn and her garden than she did of the house.

The ramshackle ranch house looked as if it would collapse in a strong wind. The weathered wood was gray with age and lack of paint. The porch roof sagged precariously.

Rebecca had the Porsche door open before Kyle had even turned off the ignition. Her fascination with Alice Cork and the old house was beginning to get to him. He’d never seen Rebecca act this way.

He got out of the car and followed her up the steps to the porch, watching as she withdrew a set of keys from her purse. He felt a strange chill of unease as she opened the door and went inside. This was forbidden territory.

Forbidden, at least, to Stockbridges and Ballards. He felt as if he were trespassing – which was a damned fool thing to feel, considering that his right to this valley was stronger than anyone else’s including Rebecca’s.

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, as if sensing his hesitation. „What’s wrong?“ she asked with a small frown.

„Nothing.“ Kyle was suddenly irritated with himself. He strode boldly into the house. „Alice Cork would have a fit if she could see me now. She never let me step foot in here. The day we brought Joker to her, she allowed Dad to carry him into the living room and put him down in front of the fire and that was it. I had to wait on the porch.“

„Look at this place,“ Rebecca said softly. „It looks like something out of a museum of late nineteenth-century Americana.“ She studied the massive stone fireplace, the braided rug, the worn, hardwood floors and the old furnishings. „No modern appliances, no central heat. The only thing that looks reasonably new is the telephone.“

„She needed a phone. People were always calling to ask for advice on how to handle the flu or a stomachache.“

Kyle felt a rush of subdued excitement as he strolled through the old house.

At last, after all these years, Harmony Valley was within reach. It was closer now than it had ever been to belonging to the owner of Flaming Luck Ranch. If his luck held, he would have it all, he told himself. There was no reason why both Rebecca and the valley should not wind up belonging to him. His confidence was returning rapidly.

„You can get that look out of your eye, Kyle.“

Rebecca spoke from the other side of the living room. She was examining the faded chintz drapes. „This place is mine.“

Her perception annoyed him. „And you belong to me,“ he reminded her curtly.

„No more than Alice belonged to your father or her mother belonged to your grandfather. It’s interesting, isn’t it, Kyle?“

„What’s interesting?“ he asked challengingly.

„How those women held out against both the Ballards and the Stockbridges. I feel as if a tradition has been passed on to me.“

„Don’t get any ideas,“ he warned, trying to squelch the flicker of panic he felt when she looked at him that way.

„Besides, you didn’t exactly hold out against a Stockbridge, if you’ll recall,“ he added bluntly.

She shrugged. „A mistake, I admit. I didn’t know about the family tradition at that point. Now I do.“

Kyle closed the drawer of a bureau with a violent shove and shot Rebecca a quelling look. „Don’t call our relationship a mistake, damn it. And don’t start talking about family traditions. You didn’t even know Alice Cork was family until yesterday.“

„I’m sorry about never having met her,“ Rebecca said with genuine regret as she prowled through a desk. „I would like to have known her. She must have been a remarkable woman. I like this old house of hers.“

Kyle decided intimidation was not going to work. He wished he knew how to deal with Rebecca today. Her aloofness was making him increasingly wary. He had been so certain he would be able to handle her when she found out the truth – so sure he could control the situation without losing either the woman or the land. But everything was in danger of unraveling.

„Baby, be reasonable. This old place is dangerous. Portions of it could collapse at any moment. The only sensible thing to do is tear it down.“

Rebecca glanced back at him. „And build a new house?“

Kyle looked at her and slowly shook his head. He glanced out the window at the beautiful mountain slopes. „You know what I’d do with this valley?“

„What?“ Rebecca didn’t move. She was watching him intently.

„I’d put in a first-class ski resort.“

„A ski resort!“ She seemed startled.

Kyle nodded. „I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Harmony Valley would make a great ski area. The resort would bring new business and new life into these mountains. It would revitalize the area economically. If it was well planned, the resort could be used year-round. We get plenty of tourists driving through here in the summer. No reason they can’t be persuaded to stop.“

„That kind of development would take an enormous amount of financial backing,“ Rebecca observed. „Flaming Luck Enterprises couldn’t do it alone. You’d need to bring in other investors.“

Kyle braced one hand against the window, thinking about his dreams. „It could be done,“ he insisted.

„If I sell you the land,“ Rebecca retorted crisply. „I’ll be perfectly honest with you, Kyle. Right now I have no idea what I’m going to do with Harmony Valley.“

„Becky, you’re a reasonable woman. Most of the time, at any rate. You know damned well there’s nothing else you can do with this place except sell it. I can’t see you living out here alone the way Alice did. You’d go crazy.“

„Maybe. Maybe not.“ Rebecca opened another drawer in the old desk.

„Don’t fight me on this, baby,“ Kyle coaxed softly. „Sell me the land and everything will go back to the way it was between us. You’ll see. You were happy with me, Becky. Admit it.“

„Ten days of living together is hardly long enough to produce an informed opinion on that subject,“ she said.

„Look, there’s an old book in here.“

„You only lived with me for ten days, but you’ve worked for me for two months. That time counts, too, Becky. We’

ve gotten to know each other. We also happen to be wild about each other in bed. We belong together. Once you get over being upset about this business with Harmony Valley, you’ll realize I’m right. Give me a chance, Becky. You owe me that much. Sell me the land and I’ll prove that nothing has changed for us. Our relationship has nothing to do with this valley.“

„It’s a journal,“ Rebecca said softly. She was paying no attention to Kyle as she turned the old, leather-bound volume over and over in her hands. „Or a diary.“ She opened it. „Seems to be a record of farm business along with a lot of personal notes.“

„Becky,“ Kyle said deliberately, sensing he had lost her attention again. „Forget that stupid journal. I’m trying to talk to you about the serious situation in which we find ourselves. It’s important for couples to talk.“

„Is it?“ she asked vaguely, frowning over the journal.

„Well, of course it is,“ he exploded. „We’re supposed to communicate. Talk out our problems. Every fog-brained shrink who decides to write a book says stuff like that.“

„I didn’t know you read that kind of stuff.“ Rebecca took one last glance around the small house. „And since when did you decide open communication between a man and a woman was such a hot idea? The only subject you’ve ever really opened up on with me was business.“

„I like talking business with you,“ he shot back. „We understand each other. No reason we can’t communicate on other subjects, too.“

„Some other time, perhaps,“ she said politely. „I think I’m finished here for today, Kyle. Please take me back to the motel. I want to think about all this.“

Kyle recognized a stone wall when he ran straight into one. He backed off and tried another approach. „You can stay at the ranch,“ he said nonchalantly as he walked toward the door. „Plenty of room. I phoned the woman who cleans for me and warned her we’d be there tonight. She promised to stock the refrigerator and change the bed.“

„I’m staying at the motel, Kyle.“

He made a grab for his patience. „There are four bedrooms at the Flaming Luck. You can take your pick,“ he said harshly. The thought of her sleeping without him was hard to swallow, but he told himself he had to handle her carefully now.

„I’m staying at the motel,“ Rebecca repeated. The journal was tucked under her arm as she went outside onto the porch.

„Becky, it’s not even three o’clock. Come on over to the Flaming Luck with me. I’d like to show you the place.“

„I can’t fit the tour into my schedule this afternoon, I’m afraid.“

„What are you going to do? Sit around that dump of a motel all afternoon and evening? You’ll be bored to tears.“

„No, I won’t. I’m going to read Alice’s journal. Catch up on a little local history.“

„Alice Cork’s version of history?“

„Why not?“

„Don’t you think it will be slightly biased?“ he asked roughly.

„History is always biased,“ she informed him mildly. „That’s because there are only two kinds – the winner’s version, and the loser’s version. The trick is to know which version you’re reading.“

„Do you think Alice was on the winning side?“

„In this particular battle there don’t appear to have been any real winners. Maybe there never will be.“ Rebecca walked away.

„There might not have been any winners, but there’s definitely a right side and a wrong side in this particular battle,“ Kyle yelled after her.

„In that case it looks like I’m on the side of the Cork women.“

„That happens to be the wrong side!“

„That’s a matter of opinion.“

Kyle almost leaped after her to demand that she have dinner with him. After that he could coax her out to the house. He was sure of it. All he needed was a little time.

But a shrewd jolt of common sense held him back. He would take her back into town and give her a night by herself in that flea trap of a motel. By tomorrow morning she would welcome the sight of him. When he invited her out for breakfast, she would probably trip over her own feet accepting.

A smart man knew when to bide his time.

Rebecca got up at dawn the next morning. She had stayed awake much of the night pouring over Alice Cork’s fascinating, insightful journal. Sleeping in should have sounded like a good idea but Rebecca was feeling too restless.

She wanted to go back out to the Cork place. She needed to get more of a feel for Alice and her mother.

It was still dark when Rebecca pulled out of the motel parking lot, but the first rays of light were creeping over the mountain peaks when she reached the old Cork house. She parked her car in the driveway, picked up the journal she had brought with her and went inside.

Wooden floorboards creaked and something small with a tail scuttled furiously out of the way as Rebecca opened the door. The house seemed to groan with the accumulated weight of years of hard work and aloneness. Alice Cork had been strangely content here in her later years, Rebecca had learned. But the early years were a different matter.

The loss of her parents and then the trauma of falling hopelessly in love with Glen Ballard’s father had taken their toll on Alice. Losing the baby had been another heavy blow. She had sensed somehow that she would never have another child. Kyle was right. Alice Cork had a way of knowing things.

Rebecca walked through the house as she had yesterday afternoon, pausing to examine a faded photo, a handmade quilt, an old harness that needed repair.

Finally she sat down at the scarred oak table and opened the journal.

Old Hank at the store told me today that Martha Stockbridge has left Cale. No one is surprised. It was only a
matter of time. Poor little Martha was no match far that black-haired devil she married. I knew the first time I saw
her that she would never be able to cope with the Stockbridge temper. She was too timid and too young to handle
Cale. He must have terrified her often during the three years they’ve been married. Everyone says the Stockbridge
luck doesn’t do much good with women. But I know it isn’t a matter of luck. The Stockbridge men, like the Ballard
men, are incapable of loving anyone or anything except their land.

Rebecca glanced up from her reading, thinking about the young, timid woman who had been Kyle’s mother. Then she went back to the next paragraph in the journal.

The boy is only two. He won’t remember his mother. That’s a pity because it means there will be no gentleness in
his life. No softness. Nothing to counter Cole’s influence. But no one can blame Martha for leaving.

What woman could stand against the Stockbridge temper and ruthlessness? Another generation of hard,
arrogant Stockbridges has been hatched. I saw little Kyle with his father in town the other day. He looks exactly
like Cale, right down to those terrifying green eyes. I see no trace of Martha in him. The Stockbridge men are a
dynasty of dragons, and they breed true.

A
dynasty of dragons. Rebecca almost smiled, remembering how Kyle’s staff often termed him a dragon. It must be the green eyes and all that nonsense about breathing fire, she decided. But Alice had been wrong on one count.

Neither dragons nor anyone else bred photocopies of themselves.

She didn’t know what Cale had been like, certainly not a lovable man from all accounts. But Kyle wasn’t an exact duplicate of his parent. She knew him well enough to know that. After all, she had fallen in love with him. By definition, that made him lovable.

Of course, that might also make her a woman of questionable intelligence, she reminded herself.

The sound of hoofbeats caught her attention. Startled, Rebecca closed the journal and went to the door. She opened it to find a vision from the past. It made her wonder if Harmony Valley existed in some sort of time warp.