Page 35 of The Promise
It was true. Michael had spent practically his whole life creating a home for them all. A place they could call their own. In fact, now that he thought on it, Michael had never really shown any interest in things outside the family. Except for the winter he went a little crazy trying to find some girl named Cara.
Loralee leaned forward, her eyes full of concern. "Your father was proud of you, too, Patrick. He always said you were the heart of the family."
For something so simple, Patrick felt absurdly happy. He forced himself to concentrate on the topic at hand. "Did he say anything about where he found this silver?"
Loralee shook her head. "No. I've tried to remember, but it was really just rambling. I do know he wanted to tell y'all."
Patrick smiled at the trace of sweet southern drawl in her voice. It was almost as lyrical as his mother's Irish lilt had been. "Was he on his way home to do that, then?"
Her face clouded. "No. At least I don't think so."
Patrick leaned forward, his heart beating a staccato rhythm in his chest. "What do you mean?"
"Well, maybe it's nothing. But your father loves Jack as much as he loves…" She dipped her head in embarrassment.
"As much as he loves us." He finished the sentence for her. "It's all right. I think it might be true. Jack and my father were inseparable."
"Well that's it exactly. If your father had truly been heading back to Clune, then he wouldn't have left Jack in front of my cr…house," she amended, color washing across her cheeks again.
"He left Jack with you?" Patrick frowned, trying to find reason where there probably was none.
"Not with me exactly. I think he was planning to come back. He knew Jack would be safe there."
"Well, that certainly supports what I've said all along. Where is he now?"
"I brought him here." She shot a pleading look at Ginny who immediately intervened.
"Now don't go thinking Loralee was trying to make off with that horse. She brought him here because she figured he' be safe from prying eyes."
Patrick ran a hand through his already frazzled hair. "I don't think anyone in their right mind would steal Jack, but you did the right thing. In fact, I think he should probably stay here, for now. At least until I can get hold of Amos Striker."
Loralee and Ginny exchanged a look. "What's he got to do with this?"
Patrick considered Ginny's question. "Well to start with, he's the sheriff."
The woman shrugged slightly as if to say, so what? "I wouldn't go runnin' my mouth off to the sheriff just yet."
"Well, I can't say that I disagree with your opinion of our erstwhile lawman, but I'd like to point out to him that it's highly unlikely that my father left town alive. Jack's presence proves that."
"Ah, but does it really prove anything? Where your father was killed is far less important than why the man died. And until you know the answer to that question, I'd be careful who I trust."
"I don't trust Striker farther than I can throw him. But he's the law around here. That has to mean something."
"Or nothing." The older woman's face closed, as if she had turned her spirit inward.
Patrick looked in askance at Loralee. "Does she know something I don't?"
Ginny opened her eyes, her attention once more focused on Patrick. "Amos Striker is a killer, a cold blooded killer."
Patrick shrugged. "Most lawmen are."
"But this one murdered my daughter."
10
Michael let the steamy, hot spray beat down on his back. He hadn't experienced much of this new century, but if showers were any indication, he thought he just might like it. Not that he could stay. No one was going to accuse him of being like his mother, he thought bitterly. He wasn't about to desert his family. They depended on him.
He turned, closing his eyes and letting the water slide down his face. A vision of creamy skin and alabaster breasts filled his mind, its alluring presence sending distinct messages to a much lower portion of his anatomy.Cara. He groaned. She was everything she'd been nine years ago and more. She was entrancing, and he wanted her. Wanted all of her, body and soul.
