Secret Sins (39 page)

She needed her family to be honest with her. She needed them to look her in the eye
and answer the questions she had and be willing to find common ground with her once
it was over.

“Anna?” Archer stepped into the bathroom as she completed her makeup and came to a
hard stop.

The woman who faced him was unlike any side of Anna he had seen since she had come
to live with him.

Her long hair was piled to the back of her head in a loose pile of silken warmth,
then secured with a tortoiseshell clip.

Dark ringlets fell around her face here and there and haphazardly down her neck and
back.

She looked like a college student dressed for a day of shopping or lying around the
house reading.

Or his lover arming herself for a meeting that meant so much to her.

“What do you think?” She breathed in deeply as she turned to him, laying the slim
tube of satiny lipstick to the side as she faced him.

Her makeup was so subtle, so well applied that it took a minute to realize she was
actually wearing anything other than the slight shininess of the lipstick.

“You look like a very beautiful, lovely, innocent young woman who loves her friends
and her job, but more importantly, she loves her family,” he put his thoughts and
the appearance she projected into words. “You just want answers, Anna. It’s time they
give them to you.”

She nodded slowly before brushing her hands down the material covering her hips and
breathing in once again.

“Have you heard from Crowe?” She didn’t look at him as she voiced the question. Instead,
she looked at the candy-pink shade of polish on her toenails and the effect of the
strappy sandals on her feet.

“Nothing yet,” he admitted. “Rafer called earlier to check on you though. He, Logan,
Skye, and Cami will be here tonight. Hopefully Crowe will be here as well.”

“Amelia?” Her voice lowered.

They hadn’t found Amelia in her home. No sooner than she had left the hospital, she
had disappeared.

“We’ll find her, Anna,” he promised, though he was afraid once they did, what they
found would break Anna’s heart.

Amelia was Wayne’s daughter. She could have been aware of what he was doing and currently
aiding his escape. Or she could have become a victim instead.

“We’ll find her,” she nodded, but he could see the fear in her eyes.

“Are you sure you want to see your family today, Anna?” he asked her then. “There
have been a lot of changes in your life and a lot to get a handle on.”

She nodded her head. “I’m ready to go.”

Anna gave herself one last glance in the mirror before stepping from the bedroom and
picking up the tan leather purse she’d left at the bottom of the bed.

Archer remained behind her as she left the house, then as he always did, he moved
to the passenger side of the SUV, opened her door, and helped her inside.

The drive from Sweetrock to the Corbins’ ranching operation was the longest ride she
believed she had ever made in her life.

They didn’t even attempt to make small talk, the questions and lack of answers stood
between them like a chasm. Anna prayed that once those explanations were made that
she would find some measure of peace with her family.

Archer glanced at her as they drove closer to the ranch.

Realizing what he felt for her had been the hardest battle he believed he had ever
fought. Letting go of those lifelong obstacles to giving his heart hadn’t been easy.
But, God, the thought that he’d lost her, that he’d been too late to save her, had
nearly destroyed him.

“You okay?” Reaching out, Archer covered her hand where it lay in her lap and entwined
his fingers with hers.

“I’m fine,” she promised.

He could hear the edge of nerves in her voice now. She was a little angry, and perhaps
even a little frightened.

“I talked to Rory’s uncle, Jordan, today,” he informed her as he made the turn to
the Corbin property, his gaze going over the vast pasture that stretched out before
them and the cattle dotting the landscape. “Rory woke up once early this morning before
lapsing into what the doctor called a healing sleep. Amory hit him hard.”

Anna nodded. “With a baseball bat. I tried to warn him, but it was too late. Amory
acted like he was hitting a baseball for a damned home run, the way he drew it back.”

She had been stepping outside the bedroom. She’d seen Amory first, drawing that bat
back, then Rory had come around the corner, his expression hard and cold. He’d known
someone was in the house, but he’d seen her and hadn’t expected anyone to be around
the corner. And she hadn’t been able to react in time.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart.” He tightened his hold on her hand as his thumb
caressed her knuckles gently.

“It was my fault,” she denied. “It really was, Archer, because I refused to leave,
even knowing the danger I could be drawing to myself and those trying to protect me.
I should have made other choices.”

What other choices could she have made other than leaving the County as Wayne Sorenson
had attempted to ensure she did?

“Anna, you have the right to be safe,” he retorted with that arrogant determination
that turned her on even when it shouldn’t.

“Not according to my family,” she said roughly. “They showed I only had the right
to be sent away, to be kept alone.” A bitter laugh passed her lips. “I guess I had
to be isolated for everyone else’s protection.”

And that was exactly how it felt.

“Why haven’t they found Wayne yet?” Anna asked as they drew closer to the main ranch
house, the nerves in her voice clearer now.

Archer inhaled slowly. “I don’t know. He didn’t have plans to leave town though, that
much I know.”

“How do you know?” Her fingers tightened on his as the truck rounded a curve and the
two-story ranch house came into view.

“He had scheduled several meetings today and tomorrow, one of which was with his stockbroker
who had flown in from New York and arrived at the hotel this morning. He was cashing
in some of his stocks and having them routed to an account in the Caymans to cover
an account he had routed from Aspen.”

“He was getting ready to do something then,” she mused. “Any idea what?”

“You turn twenty-five soon.” He shrugged. “He was allowing you to live for that reason
alone, according to him. Whatever his plans were, he knew he would need cash.”

At one time, the Barons, including the Callahans, had discussed merging their properties
and turning them into a vacation resort along the lines of the Callahans’ plans. It
was the Callahan Ranch that was pivotal in that plan, though.

Archer’s father had mentioned it to him when he was a teenager, how they had all discussed
the plans with Randal and made him the offer to enter the partnership so they could
show one non-landowner in the deal. That would have given them an edge at the time
with several organizations who gave favoritism to tourism businesses with partners
who owned no land, nor held large amounts of money.

Then JR Callahan had become ill, his wife’s family had threatened to disown her if
she didn’t stop working herself to the bone to save a ranch that was going broke,
and her infant had, everyone believed at the time, died.

Those plans had just drifted away. Then just when it looked as though everything would
come together again, JR and Eileen had died in that blizzard, going over the same
cliff their sons and daughters-in-laws had gone over years later.

The coincidence, as his father had stated more than once over the years, was too much
to believe. Too many deaths, especially those attributed to the Slasher, were tied
together, and it had haunted him.

Just as it had haunted Archer.

Now that the threads were finally coming together, it was beginning to make sense,
and realizing exactly how far back the bitter hatred and greed had gone shocked him.

Nine generations were far too many for such secrets to have been buried, and for one
family to torture and torment four others without being identified. Ivan had finally
tied Wayne Sorenson as a direct descendant to Clavern Mulrooney, the pirate father
known only as the Raider.

But he’d also identified another family, one far more secretive than even the Mulrooneys,
and much, much smarter at hiding.

With Clavern Mulrooney and his son Blood, the pirate’s first mate and boyhood friend,
Edward Bosworth the third, the son of a titled family and closely related to the English
throne.

He’d been a serial killer. He and Clavern had preyed upon not just the settlements
of Colorado Springs and Aspen, but also the Native American tribes in the area.

All women. All whose reputations were those of witches, prostitutes, adulteresses;
all women who, at the time, had broken some of society’s most sacred taboos.

The Bosworth name had not shown up again. The tie to the throne had never been given
a surname that had been proven, and the first mate’s family had drifted into the shadows
of time.

Archer dragged himself from the past as the main yard came into view.

Situated at the end of the small valley with the mountain rising around it on three
sides, several barns and pristine outbuildings scattered in the general area, the
ranch had the appearance, almost, of a small town.

Glancing over at her, Archer caught her expression before she turned her head to stare
over at the waterfall that fell from a steep cliff behind the house. It cascaded gently
to the fast-running stream that ran through the valley.

Corbin County was one of the wildest and most beautiful areas in the state, he often
swore. Hell, the world as far as he was concerned. And the four ranches that had once
dominated it held the majority of that beauty.

Pulling into the graveled drive in front of the ranch house, Archer gave her hand
a gentle squeeze.

“I should have known before it ever came to this.” Her voice suddenly filled with
dread as she stared at the house. “If they had wanted to explain anything, Archer,
they would have come to the house yesterday. They would have sought me out.”

“This is your call, Anna,” he stated, the gentleness in his voice tightening her chest
further as she fought against the fears rising inside her. “We can leave.”

She was a grown woman, yet she felt nine again, realizing her family really wasn’t
going to let her come home.

“He told you that night at the house that once you learned the identity of the Slasher,
then they would tell you everything,” she said, lifting her gaze to him as she fought
against the fear that they would throw her out before she had the chance to ask the
first question.

“You won’t know until you try, Anna.” Lifting his hand, he ran the backs of his fingers
over her cheek, warming her chilled flesh. “We can turn around and leave now, or we
can go to that door and demand the answers you deserve. The worst they can do is not
answer the door.”

She nodded slowly. He was right. That was the worst they could do, and Crowe had faced
so much worse over the years.

She had been the treasured, coddled princess until she refused to obey the demands
a madman had forced them to make. She deserved to know why they hadn’t trusted her
with the truth, and with the knowledge of who she was. “Thank you, Archer.” She blinked
back her tears.

“Anytime, sweet pea,” he promised, his voice stroking her senses with the tenderness
his eyes reflected. “Anytime.”

And nothing more.

Dropping his hand, he exited the vehicle before moving to the passenger side and helping
her out as Anna fought to restrain the disappointment tearing through her.

After his desperation and determination to hold her to him since Amory had taken her,
Anna was certain he would eventually tell her he loved her. That he surely would have
done it by now.

“You do know I’m capable of getting out on my own,” she reminded him.

“My momma was alive long enough to teach me
some
manners.” He snorted as he closed her door, twined his fingers with hers once again,
and led her to the house.

*   *   *

Anna could feel her heart racing as she stepped up to the porch, remembering those
years as a child when she had played on the rough, natural stone, the evenings she
had sat in the large swing with her father as he sang to her.

Straightening her shoulders, Anna stepped across the porch, lifted her hand, and pressed
the doorbell twice.

She didn’t have to wait long, but she was rather surprised when her grandfather answered
the door rather than the butler who had been with their family for years. “What’s
going on, Archer?” As her grandfather’s gaze flickered to her, she saw the soul-deep
pain that filled them and felt her throat tightening in agony

“Damn, Grandfather, you can’t even acknowledge my presence?” Aching, so hungry for
this man’s notice that she was ready to beg for it, Anna used mockery to shield it.

Acknowledging that hunger was one thing, showing it was another.

Her grandfather’s jaw clenched as a spasm of such agony crossed his face that Anna
couldn’t hold back a slight sob.

“John, we’ve identified your problem,” Archer told him quietly. “But Anna’s known
what’s going on since the night you were in my study with your friends. She heard
it all as she stood outside the door.”

Her grandfather gripped the door frame quickly, paling as his gaze shot to hers.

“Tell me, Grandfather,” she said painfully. “Would my mother understand what you’ve
done to her daughter?”

“What?” He swallowed tightly, shaking his head as he turned back to Archer and Anna
felt her heart breaking, for her as well as this man who had helped raise her for
so many years. “What happened?”

“You haven’t heard about Anna’s abduction by the Slasher last night?” Archer asked
then.

If John could have paled further, then he would have. For a second he seemed to sway
on his feet, his fists clenching spasmodically at his sides as he seemed to fight
to get control of himself.