Page 42 of Bride By Committee

“Wait a minute.” Harry caught up with her and turned her around. Without her heels she appeared small and fragile and painfully defenseless. There was also a look of such bleakness in her eyes that if their conversation hadn’t been so vital, he’d have gathered her in his arms and talked about anything and everything other than their current topic. But instinct warned that he should get to the bottom of this, that it was at the core of all that stood between them. “Let me get this straight. Your father admitted he stole from your own mother?”

For the first time since he’d met her, she refused to meet his gaze, staring at a point somewhere over his right shoulder. “He was quite up front about it. Proud, even.”

“I don’t get it. Why would he have confessed to you?”

“Confessed?” Her quiet laugh floated on the warm air, the underlying anguish painful to hear. She wrapped her arms around herself. “It wasn’t a confession, Harry. He was bragging. He wanted me to admire his cleverness.”

“That son of a—” He bit off the rest of what he’d planned to say. Wilson Adams might be a bastard, but he was still her father. “What did your mother do? You told her what he’d said, didn’t you?”

He’d asked the wrong question. Tears filled Madison’s eyes, and the calm she’d fought to maintain fractured, her pain too great to contain any longer. “No, Ididn’t tell her.”

“Why, Madison?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you tell your mother?”

The first tear fell. “I couldn’t find her.”

He didn’t hesitate. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the wooden benches beside the rhododendron. He held her without speaking for a long time, letting her cry her way through what must have been the most traumatic time of her life. When she finally lifted her head, she swiped at his suit coat with shaking fingers.

“I’ve made a mess of your jacket.”

“Like I give a damn.” He slid his hand into her hair, the silky curls wrapping around his fingers in vibrant welcome. “Do you want to tell me the rest?”

“There’s not much left to explain.”

He forced himself to intrude a little further. “What happened to your mother?”

“Dad divorced her. He was awarded custody of me by the courts.” She’d managed to recover most of her control, but a wealth of emotion came through in those two simple statements. “That’s why I couldn’t find my mother. He took me as far from her as he could.”

“He won custody? How did he manage that?”

“I told you. The Adamses consist mainly of accountants and lawyers, with a few bankers thrown in for good measure. They’re very skilled at what they do. Very methodical. They make a living by corrupting all that’s good and helpful about those professions. My mother never stood a chance. Dad portrayed her and the rest of her family as kooks and nutcases, adanger to my well-being. Istill don’t know all the specifics, just that when I walked into the courtroom it was surrounded by Sunflowers. And when I was carried out by my father, it was kicking and screaming the entire way.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

“Where’s your father now?” Maybe he shouldn’t ask. He might be tempted to do something aboutit.

She shrugged. “Back east.” Her mouth twisted. “We don’t talk much anymore.”

“And your mother?”

“She took off for Europe after the divorce. She shows up occasionally.”

So Madison had lost both mother and father. No wonder she was so contained. She must have learned the behavior long ago out of sheer self-preservation. “When did you return to Seattle?”

“The day I turned eighteen. I’d always planned to, even as a little girl. From the minute my father took me east, Idreamed of finding a way back home. Iused to secretly call myself Dorothy after The Wizard of Oz. Whenever things got really bad I’d tap my shoes together and beg to be sent home.” Her smile held a wistful quality. “It never worked, but I kept trying anyway. When I finally came of age, Ididn’t have to tap my shoes. Isimply pointed them west, started walking, and didn’t stop until I found Sunny.”

“What happened then?”

“I went to college and learned everything I could about how to fix all the damage my father had caused. And since graduating I’ve spent the last four years putting right all of his wrongs.” Madison escaped Harry’s arms. Snatching her shoes from his hands, she slipped them on her feet. Armored with the extra few inches they provided, she faced him with a hint of her old defiance. “You may not believe this, but I’m very good at my job. The Sunflowers were almost bankrupt when I arrived here. In the few short years I’ve had control of their assets, I’ve restored everything my father destroyed, and then some. Ieven bought back the family home.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He stood, as well. “But the one thing nobody seems to have bothered to explain to you is that Wilson’s actions weren’t your fault. You don’t have to keep paying for them.”

“I’m not paying, I’m protecting,” she corrected. “There’s a big difference. So long as I’m in control, my family’s safe from my father and every other con artist who’s tempted to take advantage of them.”

He steered her back to the original discussion. “And you think that because your father embezzled from the Sunflowers, they’ve asked me to step in and check up on you? Make sure you aren’t your father’s daughter?”

“What other reason could there be?” Tears welled into her eyes again and she visibly fought them back. This time she succeeded, her determination to hold her emotions at bay painful to witness. “Not that I blame them. It’s a sensible precaution.”

---