Page 45 of Silent Deception
“And it hardly matters, does it,” Clint said flatly. He rolled his shoulders irritably. “When are you leaving?”
“Really, Clint.” Her voice held the same hint of weary contempt that had driven his fury years ago.
It drew the line between her wealthy upbringing and his as a poor rancher’s son.
Her East Coast education and his at a state university.
Her old money had been his stake in this ranch, his start in politics. Though she’d never said a word, she’d still managed to convey her utter boredom with his dreams.
“I’m long past these games,” he growled. “I’m turning in.”
“Where you’ll sleep as well as I have, no doubt.”
“What do you want?” He turned, intending to stare her down, but instead found himself taking in her ghostly pale face. The deep hollows under her cheekbones. “You look terrible.”
That earned another soft laugh. “A woman can never be too thin, Clint. Fashion iseverything.On the other hand, a man can be far too rude.”
“Some of us just don’t care.” He sighed heavily, knowing she was the one person on earth who would defy him at every turn, who would call him on every last mistake he made. And sheneveryielded the last word in an argument.
“Sad, isn’t it?” Her voice sounded wistful. “We should have been such an amazing team. Now here we are, and we still can’t manage five minutes of conversation. I wish...it had been different. For us. For our boys.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Don’t worry, dear. I haven’t come to stay. I plan to leave in a few days for a buying trip in New York, then hope to get back here again while Ryan is still around.” She played with the top button of her robe. “Once he takes off again, we may not see him for years and I think it’s long past time to be mending fences.”
“That ought to keep you mighty busy,” Clint snapped.
“So you’ve made no mistakes,” she said mildly. “You know, I used to think that failing memory was a terrible thing for the elderly. Now, I think it’s probably a blessing if it gives peace of mind they might not deserve. Good night, darling. Sleep well.”
She rose and drifted into the shadows toward the opposite wing of the house. A moment later he heard the soft slide of a glass door and the snick of a lock.
The tension in his chest eased. He crossed the courtyard for his room, where he felt the weight of exhaustion settling back over him. This time, he thought he might be able to sleep.
But long after he settled in, he lay staring at the ceiling. Charlotte was a master at subtle criticism. He’d never once won an argument with her, but she’d also been more than fair.
She could have destroyed the Four Aces and his budding political career by taking what was rightfully hers in the divorce under Texas law. Instead, she’d scoffed at her insistent lawyers and had accepted just enough to put herself through college. She’d earned an art degree—something Clint had thought useless as snowshoes on a longhorn. Yet she’d made her way in the world very well.
Past mistakes.He remembered his own all too well. There was no fix for them, not after all this time. And there was no question about ever reaching a friendly accord.
But maybe...he needed to mend a few fences, as well.
