surprised that Emily is still here,” Victoria said to Wendy as they sat in the glassed-in sunporch. “She’s been staying with you for weeks. How long can she stay away from work?”
“I’ve stopped asking her that question. I figure she knows what she’s doing. She’s been a huge help since we brought MaryAnne home. She was so tiny, you know, as premature as she was, but so perfect. Emily’s a natural mom. She steadied me.” Wendy looked around. “Honestly, though, I think Marcos is looking forward to the three of us becoming a family on our own.”
Victoria sat up straight. “Of course he wants that. You must, too.” Just like all she wanted was to talk to the stranger who’d saved her. “I’ll encourage Em to go home, and I’ll move to the hotel. We’re being so—”
“Stop. Please, Vicki, I didn’t mean right this second. Marcos is glad I’ve had company since he works such long hours at the restaurant. I just meant that I think we’re both ready to establish our own routine. But not this week. Not yet.”
“Well, I only plan to stay a few days. I’ll get Em to leave with me, too.”
“It’s not necessary, Vicki. Really. I think she’s hiding out here, but I’m not sure why. And then there’s Jordana—”
“Who is the biggest mystery of all,” Emily said, coming into the room. She was tall, blonde and green-eyed, yet she also had the Fortune look about her. “Hey, Vicki.” She bent to give her cousin a hug while eyeing Wendy. “I’m not hiding out here, sister mine. I’ve been helping. I’ve also been working from here. You look like crap, Vicki.”
“Thank you so much.”
Emily shrugged. “Is MaryAnne still sleeping?”
“Like a baby,” Wendy said with a grin.
The women settled into conversation, as they had all their lives. Their fathers were brothers, highly successful, self-made financial geniuses in Atlanta, each owning separate companies that weren’t in competition with each other. It was amazing, actually, that the cousins got along so well, considering that their fathers did not. At family events, the brothers ignored each other. Only the two men knew what was behind their estrangement.
“So, Vicki,” Emily said, “why did you come today instead of in time for the party last night?”
Because my sanity depended on it. “Jordana and I talked last night, and it just seemed like the right time.”
“Did she tell you what’s going on with her?”
“Going on?” Victoria asked innocently.
Wendy and Emily exchanged glances. “She doesn’t look well,” Emily said. “In fact, she looks worse than you. We’re really worried.”
“I think she’s fine,” Victoria answered. “She’s dealing with some stuff. No, don’t ask. She’s not sick. Wendy,” she said, changing the subject. She couldn’t wait a second longer. “Did Marcos ever figure out who got me out from under the debris? I would like to talk to him.”
“He’s pretty sure it must have been Garrett Stone.”
Garrett Stone. Her heart skipped a beat or two. She finally had a name to put to him, a strong name, solid. Heroic. “Where does he live?”
“He’s got a ranch—although I’m using the term loosely—outside town called Pete’s Retreat. He’s born-and-bred Red Rock, but he’s left town a couple of times, for several years at a time. There’ve been rumors about him, apparently.”
“Like what?”
“For one thing, he was involved in some kind of scandal years ago with a young woman. That forced him to leave town the first time. For another, no one knows how he makes a living. Plus he’s a loner. He’s got dogs and a few horses. Strays gravitate to him.”
Victoria remembered he was a man of few words, and also how his hands had been gentle on her.
Now that she was here, she wanted to get it over with. To see him. To thank him. To take back her life. “Could you give me directions to his place? I’d like to go there now.”
“I can call Marcos and ask,” Wendy said. “But I think it would be better if one of us went with you.”
“Why?”
“In case he’s rude or something.”
“Standing-on-the-porch-holding-a-shotgun rude or just brusque? He can’t be totally without civility. He saved my life, after all. And besides, I’m not without charm, you know,” she added, fluttering her eyelashes.
“I doubt anything in your past has prepared you for Garrett Stone,” Wendy said. “Face it, Vicki, the easy appeal you have comes from having led a charmed life. We all have. If you’re expecting him to welcome you with open arms and listen to you shower him with gratitude, you’re deluded. I gather people don’t venture out to his ranch. There must be a reason for that. I’m not sure he’ll be nice to you.”
“I’m not a princess,” Victoria said, crossing her arms. “If he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, so be it. At least I will have done what I need to.”
“Wow. You’ve really gotten snippy.”
Victoria dug for patience. “I’m sorry for my attitude. It’s just been weighing on me.”
“I see that. What I think is that you’ve got a big ol’ case of hero worship, some big fantasy you’ve worked up in your head about him without knowing the whole truth,” Emily said. “And although we may not wear crowns, we Fortune daughters have been protected and pampered since birth. You can’t deny that. But the men of Red Rock are different from the men in our social circle back home.”
“Meaning what?”
“Have you ever been rejected, Vicki?”
“Of course I have. But it’s not like this is a love connection, you know. I just have a few things to say.” Except that she’d been fantasizing about him, too, that he’d carried her far away, her hero.
Emily raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, then. At least you’ll know what to expect if you go there.”
Victoria frowned, thinking it over. She had been rejected. Maybe not by anyone who mattered, but then she’d never been in love, either. Perhaps because she’d never developed any long-term relationships, something that had irked her parents to no end. As old-fashioned as the notion was, she’d been expected to find a future husband while she was in college. Her parents were old-school, with traditional expectations, and she hadn’t lived up to them. It was different for her four older brothers, who were still single, their martial status not even an issue.
Armed with directions from Marcos, Victoria headed out twenty minutes later. She’d brought a bottle of eighteen-year-old single-malt, award-winning Scotch whiskey. She’d never tasted it herself, preferring sweet, fruity drinks, but the whiskey was praised by most men she knew.
It wasn’t a long drive, but an increasingly desolate one. Why anyone would want to live so far from civilization puzzled her. She liked her creature comforts,
