Page 67 of The Promise
Patrick fought a wave of sadness. He'd loved his mother more than anyone in the world. "She'd always say that Duncan Macpherson was the finest gentleman in the whole world, andthat she was the lucky one. I really believed she loved him, Loralee."
She squeezed his hand. "I imagine that she really did."
They sat together in the moonlight, listening to the whisper of the wind in the pines, and Patrick thought, just for a moment, that maybe she really had. Maybe she'd loved them all. His heart contracted in anguish. But if she'd loved them, then how could she have ever left them—lefthim?
"Were you born in New York?" Loralee asked, breaking the silence.
"No. Michael was. But tempers started flaring between the north and south. Owen and my father decided they didn't want to fight a war they had no stomach for, so they high-tailed it to the gold fields."
"California?" She shifted slightly, her hand still warm in his.
"Um hmm. I was born in a shanty in some long forgotten boomtown. We kicked around California for awhile, until the gold got scarce and folks started talking about Colorado."
"Silver." She said the word almost with reverence.
"Except, of course, we never seemed to be able to find any."
"Until the Promise."
"Yeah, fat lot of good it did us."
She looked up at him, her wide eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dredge up old memories."
"It's all right. They seem to have a way of coming up all by themselves anyway." Which brought them full circle.
If the Promise hadn't failed, maybe his mother would still be around. And if she were still here, then his father wouldn't have become a drunk. And he and Loralee would certainly never have hooked up. And then she wouldn't be in danger.
He blew out a sigh. Yup, everything always seemed to lead back to the Promise.
18
Michael reached the clearing and began methodically searching the far bank of Shallow Creek for the blue spruce. It wasn't particularly easy. There were plenty of the trees mixed in among the aspens. And the course of the stream was different than it had been in his time.
The changes seemed to mock him, pointing out with painful clarity the precariousness of his situation. Lost in time. It sounded like the name of a dime novel, not reality.
He blew out a breath and tried to concentrate on his search. One spruce in particular, kept catching his eye. It towered above the others, its limbs fanning down to the ground. Something about the rocks jutting out beside it rang a bell. The little scraggly tree of his memory had filled out majestically.
He started to cross the creek, then stopped short, his mind filled with a picture of Cara disappearing into the gallery minutes before it exploded. He let out a string of words fit for the crustiest miner. He was a fool. Letting her go alone had been a mistake. Especially with Nick Vargas out there.
He spun around and headed back toward the cabin. Hopefully, he was just making a mountain out of a mole hill.She'd come bursting through the brush any minute. Fifteen minutes later, he wasn't as sure. Cursing himself, he increased his pace, fear lancing through him. Oh God, he prayed, let her be all right.
"What are you doing here?"Cara tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but only succeeded partially.
Nick smiled, a slow, lazy smile that never reached his eyes. "I think you already know that."
Cara felt the hairs on her arms rise. Why hadn't she seen the truth about him before? "You took my paintings." She was amazed at how calm her voice sounded. It wasn't everyday she had a gun pointed in her face.
He sounded amused. "Well, I did try to buy them. I told you that honest heart of yours would get you in trouble. Where's the boy toy?"
"He's not here."
"This gets better and better, Cara mia. How delightful to have you all to myself." There was a caress in his voice that sent shivers of dread down her spine. He frowned. "Of course I'll still have to deal with Mr. Macpherson." He spat the name out like it was a curse. "But first, I'll have the pleasure of dealing with you." The lecherous look was back. "Come here, darling." He motioned her forward with the gun.
It took everything she had to hold her ground. "I'm not coming anywhere near you."
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, darling." He was across the room before she could blink, his free hand closing around her wrist. She would never have guessed he was capable ofmoving so quickly. He pulled her close, the barrel on the gun digging into her ribs, his warm breath fanning across her face.
"Back off, Nick." She gritted her teeth and tried to wrench her wrist free.
