Yesterday's Lies (7 page)

“Oh, Neva—”

“Think about it. Think long and hard about who is going to win if Trask continues his wild-goose chase; no one. Not you, Tory. Not me. And especially not Nicholas. He’s the loser!”

Tory chose her words carefully. “Don’t you think your son deserves the truth?”

“Not if it costs him his peace of mind.” Neva lifted her chin and her brown eyes grew cold. “I know that you don’t want another scandal any more than I do. And as for Trask, well—” she lifted her palms upward and then dropped her hands “—I hope that, for both your sakes, you don’t get involved with him again. Not just because of the letter. I don’t think he could handle another love affair with you, Tory. The last time almost killed him.” With her final remarks, Neva reached for her purse and sack of groceries and left the small café.

“So much for mending fences,” Tory muttered as she paid the small tab and walked out of the restaurant. After crossing the street, she climbed into her pickup and headed back to the Lazy W. Though she had never been close to Neva, not even before Jason’s death, Tory had hoped that someday the old wounds would heal and the scars become less visible. Now, with the threat of Trask opening up another investigation into his brother’s death, that seemed impossible.

As Tory drove down the straight highway toward the ranch, her thoughts turned to the past. Maybe Neva was right. Maybe listening to Trask would only prove disastrous.

Five years before, after her father’s conviction, Tory had been forced to give up her dream of graduate school to stay at the Lazy W and hold the ranch together. Not only had the ranch suffered financially, but her brother, Keith, who was only sixteen at the time, needed her support and supervision. Her goal of becoming a veterinarian as well as her hopes of becoming Trask McFadden’s wife had been shattered as easily as crystal against stone.

When Calvin had been sent to prison, Tory had stayed at the ranch and tried to raise a strong-willed younger brother as well as bring the Lazy W out of the pool of red ink. In the following five years Keith had grown up and become responsible, but the ranch was still losing money, though a little less each year.

Keith, at twenty-one, could, perhaps, run the ranch on his own. But it was too late for Tory. She could no more go back to school and become a veterinarian than she could become Trask McFadden’s wife.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HE
BUILDINGS
OF
the Lazy W, made mostly of rough-hewn cedar and fir, stood proudly on the flat land comprising the ranch and were visible from the main highway. Tory wheeled the pickup onto the gravel lane that was lined with stately pines and aspen and led up to the house.

Purebred horses grazed in the fields surrounding the stables, whole spindly legged foals romped in the afternoon sunlight.

Tory’s heart swelled with pride for the Lazy W. Three hundred acres of high plateau held together by barbed wire and red metal posts had been Tory’s home for all of her twenty-seven years and suddenly it seemed that everyone wanted to take it away from her. Trask, with his damned investigation of the horse swindle of five years ago, was about to ruin her credibility as a Quarter Horse breeder by reminding the public of the shady dealings associated with the Lazy W.

Tall grass in the meadow ruffled in the summer breeze that blew across the mountains. White clouds clung to the jagged peaks of the Cascades, shadowing the grassland. This was the land she loved and Tory would fight tooth and nail to save it—even if it meant fighting Trask every step of the way. He couldn’t just come marching back into her life and destroy everything she had worked for in the past five years!

Tory squinted against the late-afternoon sun as she drove the pickup into the parking lot near the barn and killed the engine. The warm westerly wind had removed any trace of the rainstorm that had occurred the night before and waves of summer heat shimmered in the distance, distorting the view of the craggy snow-covered mountains.

She pushed her keys into the pocket of her jeans and walked to the paddock where Governor was still separated from the rest of the horses. Eldon, one of the ranch hands, was dutifully walking the bay stallion.

“How’s our patient?” Tory asked as she patted Governor on the withers and lifted his hoof. Governor snorted and flattened his ears against his head. “Steady, boy,” Tory murmured softly.

“Still sore, I’d guess,” the fortyish man said with a frown. His weathered face was knotted in concern.

“I’d say so,” Tory agreed. “Has he been favoring it?”

“Some.”

“What about his temperature?” Tory asked as she looked at the sensitive tissue within the hoof.

“Up a little.”

She looked up and watched Governor’s ribs, to determine if his breathing was accelerated, but it wasn’t.

“I’ll call the vet. Maybe Anna should have a look at it.”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

She released Governor’s hoof and dusted her hands on her jeans. “I’ll see if she can come by tomorrow; until then we’ll just keep doing what we have been for the past two days.”

“You got it.”

Tory, with the intention of pouring a large glass of lemonade once she was inside the house, walked across the gravel parking area and then followed a worn path to the back porch. Alex was lying in the shady comfort of a juniper bush. He wagged his tail as she approached and Tory reached down to scratch the collie behind his ears before she opened the door to the kitchen.

“Tory? Is that you?” Keith yelled from the vicinity of the den when the screen door banged shut behind her.

“Who else?” she called back just as she heard his footsteps and Keith entered the homey kitchen from the hall. His young face was troubled and dusty. Sweat dampened his hair, darkening the strands that were plastered to his forehead. “You were expecting someone?” she teased while reaching into the refrigerator for a bag of lemons.

“Of course not. I was just waiting for you to get back.”

“That sounds ominous,” she said, slicing the lemons and squeezing them on the glass juicer. “I’m making lemonade, you want some?”

Keith seemed distracted. “Yeah. Sure,” he replied before his gray eyes darkened. “What took you so long in town?”

Tory looked up sharply. Keith hadn’t acted like himself since Trask was back in Oregon. “What is this, an inquisition?”

“Hardly.” Keith ran a hand over his forehead, forcing his hair away from his face. “Rex and I were just talking...about what happened last night.”

“You mean the calf?” she asked.

“Partially.” Keith had taken the wooden salt shaker off the table and was pretending interest in it.

Tory felt her back stiffen slightly as she poured sugar and the lemon juice into a glass pitcher. “And the rest of your discussion with Rex centered on Trask, is that it?”

“Right.”

At that moment Rex walked into the room. He fidgeted, removed his hat and worked the brim in his gnarled fingers.

“How about a glass of lemonade?” Tory asked, as much to change the direction of the conversation as to be hospitable.

“Sure,” the foreman responded. A nervous smile hovered near the corners of his mouth but quickly faded as he passed a hand over his chin. “I thought you’d like to know that all of the horses and cattle are alive and accounted for.”

Relief seeped through Tory’s body. So the calf was an isolated incident—so much for Trask’s conspiracy theories about vague and disturbing warnings in the form of dead livestock. “Good. What about any other signs of trouble?”

Rex shook his head thoughtfully. “None that I could see. None of the animals escaped through that hole in the fence, and we couldn’t find any other places where the fence was cut or tampered with.”

Tory was beginning to feel better by the minute. The dark cloud of fear that had begun to settle over her the evening before was slowly beginning to dissipate. “And the fence that was damaged has been repaired?”

“Yep. Right after you brought the deputy out to look at the calf. Did it myself.”

“Thanks, Rex.”

“All part of the job,” he muttered, avoiding her grateful glance.

“Well, then, I guess the fact that the rest of the livestock is okay is good news,” Tory said, wincing a little as she remembered the unfortunate heifer. Neither man responded. “Now, I think we should take some precautions to see that this doesn’t happen again.”

Rex smiled slightly. “I’m open to suggestion.”

“Wait a minute, Tory,” Keith cut in abruptly as Tory turned back to the pitcher of lemonade and began adding ice water to the cloudy liquid. “Why are you avoiding the subject of McFadden?”

“Maybe I’m just tired of it,” Tory said wearily. She had hoped to steer clear of another confrontation about Trask but knew the argument with her brother was inevitable. She poured the pale liquid into three glasses filled with ice and offered a glass to each of the men.

“McFadden’s not going to just walk away from this, you know,” Keith said.

“I know.”

“Then for Pete’s sake, Tory, we’ve got to come up with a plan to fight him.”

“A plan?” Tory repeated incredulously. She had to laugh as she took a sip of her drink. “You’re beginning to sound paranoid, Keith. A plan! People who make up plans are either suffering from overactive imaginations or are trying to hide something. Which are you?”

“Neither. I’m just trying to avoid another scandal, that’s all,” Keith responded, his eyes darkening. “And maybe save this ranch in the process. The last scandal nearly destroyed the Lazy W as well as killed Dad, or don’t you remember?”

“I remember,” Tory said, some of the old bitterness returning.

“Look, Sis,” Keith pleaded, his voice softening a little. “I’ve studied the books and worked out some figures. The way I see it, the Lazy W has about six months to survive. Then the note with the bank is due, right?”

“Right,” Tory said on a weary sigh.

“The only way the bank will renew it is if we can prove that we can run this place at a profit. Now you’re close, Tory, damned close, but all it takes is for all the old rumors to start flying again. Once people are reminded of what Dad was supposedly involved in, we’ll lose buyers as quickly as you can turn around, and there go the profits.”

“You don’t know that—”

“I sure as hell do.”

Tory shifted and avoided Keith’s direct stare. She knew what he was going to say before the words were out.

“The only way the Lazy W can stay in business is to sell those Quarter Horses you’ve been breeding. You know it as well as I do. And no one is going to touch those horses with a ten-foot pole if they think for one minute that the horses might be part of a fraud. The reputation of this ranch is...well, shady or at least it was, all because of the Quarter Horse scam five years ago. If all the publicity is thrown into the public eye again, your potential buyers are going to dry up quicker than Devil’s Creek in a hot summer.”

“And you think that’s what will happen if Trask is allowed to investigate his anonymous letter?”

“You can count on it.”

Tory’s eyes moved from the stern set of Keith’s jaw to Rex. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What do you think?”

“I think what I always have,” Rex said, rubbing his chin. “McFadden is trouble. Plain and simple.”

“There’s no doubt about that,” Tory thought aloud, “but I don’t know what any of us can do about it.”

“Maybe you can talk him out of dredging everything up again,” Keith suggested. “However, I’d like it better if you had nothing to do with the son of a bitch.”

Tory glared at her younger brother. “Let’s leave reference to Trask’s parentage and any other ridiculous insults out of this, okay? Now, how do you know he’ll be back?”

“Oh, he’ll be back all right. He’s like a bad check; he just comes bouncing back. As sure as the sun comes up in the morning, McFadden will be back.”

Tory shook her head and frowned into her glass. She swirled the liquid and stared at the melting ice. “So if he returns to the Lazy W, you want me to try and persuade him to ignore the letter and all this nonsense about another man being involved in the Quarter Horse swindle and Jason’s death. Have I got it right?”

“Essentially,” Keith said.

“Not exactly an intricate plan.”

“But the only one we’ve got.”

Tory set her glass on the counter and her eyes narrowed. “What if the letter is true, Keith? What if another person was involved in Jason’s death, a man who could, perhaps, clear Dad’s name?”

Keith smiled sadly, suddenly old beyond his years. “What’s the chance of that happening?”

“’Bout one in a million, I’d guess,” Rex said.

“Less than that,” Keith said decisively, “considering that McFadden wouldn’t be trying to clear Dad’s name. He’s the guy who put Dad in the prison in the first place, remember? I just can’t believe that you’re falling for his line again, Sis.”

Tory paled slightly. “I’m not.”

“Give me a break. You’re softening to McFadden and you’ve only seen him once.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of everyone trying to manipulate me,” Tory said hotly. She stalked across the room and settled into one of the chairs near the table. “This whole thing is starting to reek of a conspiracy or at the very least a cover-up!”

“What do you mean?” Keith seemed thoroughly perplexed. Rex avoided Tory’s gaze and stared out the window toward the road.

“I mean that I ran into Neva McFadden at the feed store. She wanted to talk to me, for crying out loud! Good Lord, the woman hasn’t breathed a word to me since the trial and today she wanted to talk things over. Can you believe it?”

“‘Things’ being Trask?” Keith guessed.

“Right.” Tory smiled grimly at the irony of it all. Neva McFadden was the last person Tory would have expected to beg her to stay away from Trask and his wild theories.

“You know that she’s in love with him, don’t you?” Keith said and noticed the paling of Tory’s tanned skin. Whether his sister denied it or not, Tory was still holding a torch for McFadden. That thought alone made Keith’s blood boil.

“She didn’t say so.”

“I doubt if she would: at least not to you.”

“Maybe not,” Tory whispered.

“So anyway, what did she want to talk about?”

“About the same thing you’re preaching right now. That Trask’s anonymous letter was just a prank, that we should leave the past alone, that her son would suffer if the scandal was brought to the public’s attention again. She thought it would be wise if I didn’t see Trask again.”

“Too late for that,” Rex said, removing his hat and running his fingers through his sweaty silver hair as he stared through the window. His thick shoulders slumped and his amiable smile fell from his face. “He’s coming down the drive right now.”

“Great,” Keith muttered.

Tory’s heart began to pound with dread. “Maybe we should tell him everything we discussed just now.”

“That would be suicide, Tory. Our best bet is to convince him that his letter was nothing more than a phony—”

A loud rap on the door announced Trask’s arrival. Keith let out a long breath of air. “Okay, Sis, you’re on.”

Tory’s lips twisted cynically. “If you’re looking for an Oscar-winning performance, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asked warily.

“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar’?” Without further explanation, she walked down the short corridor, ignored the round of swearing she heard in the kitchen and opened the front door.

Trask was about to knock again. His fist was lifted to his shoulder and his jaw was set angrily. At the sight of Tory, her gray-green eyes sparkling with a private joke, he was forced to smile and his angular features softened irresistibly. When Senator McFadden decided to turn on the charm, the effect was devastating to Tory’s senses, even though she knew she couldn’t trust him.

“I thought maybe you were trying to give me a not-so-subtle hint,” Trask said.

Tory shook her head and laughed. “Not me, senator. I’m not afraid to speak my mind and tell you you’re not welcome.”

“I already knew that.”

“But you’re back.” She leaned against the door, not bothering to invite him inside, and studied the male contours of his face. Yes, sir, the senator was definitely a handsome man, she thought. Five years hadn’t done him any harm—if anything, the added maturity was a plus to his appearance.

“I hoped that maybe you’d reconsidered your position and thought about what I had to say.”