Page 98 of The Promise
Loralee opened her eyes and smiled gently. "There's a connection between you and Michael, Cara. Anyone can see it."
"I care about Michael, but I'm not sure that's enough. I've had firsthand experience at losing people I love, and I'm not willing to risk that kind of hurt again. We're playing with time, for God's sake. Who's to say that the decision to stay or go is even mine to make?"
"I think you have make up your mind what it is you really want." Loralee closed her hand meaningfully over the silver locket hanging between her breasts. "And when you do, I suspect the decision will be yours. No matter where you come from, the future has yet to be decided."
Cara sighed. "It's all so complicated."
"I reckon everything in life is complicated."
"True enough." Cara decided turnabout was fair play. "How about you? Will you stay?"
"Now there's a mighty powerful question. There's reasons I might want to stay here."
She didn't say it, but Cara thought maybe she was talking about Patrick. She'd seen the way the two of them looked at each other. "But there are complications," Cara added dryly.
Loralee nodded. "Not the least of them being my daughter."
"But surely after everything you've been through, you deserve a happy ending."
Loralee looped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. "I honestly don't know if I believe in happy endings anymore." For the first time, Cara thought she heard a trace of bitterness in her great-grandmother's voice.
"Sometimes happiness is only a heartbeat away. You just have to look inside yourself to find it." Cara smiled. "My mother used to say that."
"Your mother was a wise woman." Loralee stood up, all traces of bitterness gone. "I suppose things will work out one way or another—for both of us."
"I hope so, Loralee. I truly hope so."
Michael swungup into the saddle, his hand automatically closing around the butt of the Winchester tucked safely into the leather holster on his saddle. It felt right.
He looked over at Cara, who was leaning forward checking her horse's bridle. She sat her mount with the ease of someone comfortable with horses. In fact, if he ignored her strange leather shoes, she almost looked like she belonged here. Truth was, he wanted her to belong here, wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything, but the fact was, she didn't. And she'd made it perfectly clear last night that she wasn't going to stay.
"Maybe he won't even be up there."
Michael pulled his attention from Cara and focused on his brother. "It's possible, but I've got a feeling he's there. If we're right about the silver, he's not likely to go far without it."
"I suppose you're right." Patrick brushed absently at a stray piece of Roscoe's mane. "I wish you'd let me come with you. I don't like the idea of you going up there alone."
"I can handle it." Michael smiled and looked over at Cara. "Besides, I've got a sharpshooter with me, remember?" Cara met his gaze and smiled in return. His heart did a little somersault and suddenly, the day seemed to grow brighter.
"I still want to go with you."
Michael recognized Patrick's mutinous look. "I know, but we've been over this. Someone's got to tell Owen. He deserves to know. It's half his silver."
"A third." Patrick's words were soft, but certain, the lines of his face hard. "A third belonged to Zach and no matter what really happened, his share should go to Loralee."
"I've got no problem with that."
Patrick relaxed. "Best you get on then. I'll follow you as soon as I find Owen."
Michael looked over at Cara. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
He turned Roscoe with a slight movement of the reins. "All right then?—"
"Wait." Loralee came running out of the house, a leather satchel in her hands. "I've packed some food." She held up the bag,. "Can't let you all go off without something."
Michael took the satchel and secured it on the back of his saddle. "We'll be glad to have this, Loralee. Thank you."
