he had spoken out, told his side of the story, let the court hear the truth, even Trask’s damning testimony would have been refuted and maybe Calvin Wilson would be alive now. And Trask wouldn’t be back in Sinclair, digging up the past, searching for some elusive, maybe even phantom, conspirator in Jason’s death.
And now Trask had returned, actually believing that someone else was involved in his brother’s death.
So it all came back to Trask and the fact that Tory hadn’t stopped loving him. She knew her feelings for him were crazy, considering everything they had been through. She loved him one minute, hated him the next and knew that she should never have seen him again. He could take his wild half-baked theories, anonymous letters and seductive smile straight back to Washington where they all belonged. Surely he had better things to do than bother her.
“Just leave me alone, Trask,” Tory said with a sigh. “Go back to Washington and leave me alone...I don’t want to love you any more...I can’t...”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, after a restless night, Tory was making breakfast when Keith, more than slightly hung over, entered the kitchen. Without a word he walked to the refrigerator, poured himself a healthy glass of orange juice and drank it in one swallow. He then slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and glared up at Tory with red-rimmed eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’re dehydrated,” Tory said, with a teasing lilt in her voice.
“Okay, I won’t. Then you won’t have to lecture me.”
“Fair enough.” From the looks of it Keith’s hangover was punishment enough for his binge, Tory thought, and she had been the one who had insisted that he go into town last night. If he were suffering, which he obviously was, it was partially because of her insistence that he leave the ranch. She flipped the pancakes over and decided not to mention that Keith hadn’t gotten home until after three. He was over twenty-one now, and she didn’t have to mother him, though it was a hard habit to break considering that the past five years she had been father, mother and sister all rolled into one.
“How about some breakfast?” she suggested, stacking the pancakes on a plate near a pile of crisp bacon and placing the filled platter on the table.
“After a few answers.”
“Okay.” Tory slid into the chair facing him and poured syrup over her stack of hotcakes. “Shoot.”
“What have to decided to do about McFadden?” Keith asked, forking a generous helping of bacon onto his plate.
“I don’t know,” Tory admitted. She took a bite from a strip of bacon. “Maybe there’s nothing I can do.”
“Like hell. You could leave.”
“Not a chance, we went over this yesterday.” She reached for the coffeepot and poured each of them a cup of coffee.
“McFadden will come here.”
“He already has.”
“What!” Keith’s face lost all of its color. “When?”
“Last night. While you were in town.”
Keith rubbed his palm over the reddish stubble on his chin. “Damn, I knew something like this would happen.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal. We just talked.”
Keith looked at his older sister as if she had lost her mind. “You did what?” he shouted, rising from the breakfast table.
“I said I talked with him. How else was I supposed to find out what he wanted?”
Keith’s worried eyes studied her face. “So what happened to the woman who, just yesterday afternoon, was going to bodily throw Trask McFadden off her land if he set foot on it. You know, the lady with the ready rifle and deadly aim?”
“Now, wait a minute—” Tory’s face lost all of its color and her eyes narrowed.
“Weren’t you the one who suggested that we point a rifle at his head and tell him to get lost?”
“I was only joking...”
“Like hell!” Keith sputtered before truly seeing his sister for the first time that morning. A sinking realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Tory, you’re still in love with him, aren’t you? I can’t believe it! After what he did to you?” Keith stared at his sister incredulously before stalking over to the refrigerator and pouring himself a large glass of milk. “This isn’t happening,” he said, as if to console himself. “This is all just a bad dream...”
“I’m not in love with him, Keith,” Tory said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and turning her face upward in order to meet Keith’s disbelieving gaze.
“But you were once.”
“Before he testified against Dad.”
“Goddamn,” Keith muttered as he sucked in his breath and got hold of himself. His large fist curled in frustration. “I knew he’d show up the minute I left the ranch. What did he want?”
“My help.”
“Your what? I can’t believe it. After what he put you through? The nerve of that bastard!” He took a long swig from his glass with one hand, then motioned to his sister. “Well, go on, go on, this is getting better by the minute.”
“He thinks that there may have been someone else involved in Jason’s murder and the horse swindle.”
“Are you kiddin’?” Keith placed his empty glass on the counter and shook his head in disbelief. “After all this time? No way!”
“That’s what I told him.”
“But he didn’t buy it?”
“I’d say not.”
“Great! The dumb bastard will probably drag all of it up again. It’ll be in the papers and everything.” Keith paced between the table and the back door. He squinted against the bright morning sunshine streaming through the dusty windowpanes and looked toward the barn. “Dad’s name is sure to come up.”
“Sit down and eat your breakfast,” Tory said, eyeing Keith’s neglected plate.
Keith ignored her. “This is the last thing we need right now, you know. What with all the problems we’re having with the bank...” He swore violently, balled one fist and smashed it into his other palm. “I should never have left you last night, I knew it, damn it, I knew it!” His temper threatened to explode completely for a minute before he finally managed to contain his fury. Slowly uncurling his fist, he regained his composure and added with false optimism, “Oh, well, maybe McFadden got whatever it was he wanted off his chest and now it’s over.”
Tory hated to burst Keith’s bubble, but she had always been straight with her brother, telling him about the problems with the ranch when they occurred. There was no reason to change now. “I don’t know that it’s over.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I
