her.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I just didn’t want you to fall.” Not wanting to see her revulsion, he turned back toward the stairs. So he didn’t see her face.
He only heard her murmur, “Thank you...”
But he did see something—maybe—at the bottom of the stairs. A glint in the darkness. Was that what she’d seen? What she’d thought might be human? He stepped closer and peered down, but the glint was gone.
And he couldn’t be certain what he’d seen—if anything. Hell, since losing his right eye, he didn’t quite trust his vision anymore.
“Come on, you two,” Mac urged them. “Let’s get the hell out of here and head back to the ranch.” It was no secret that he’d always hated coming up to the main house when he’d worked for Livia. And she had probably actually had more respect and affection for Mac than she’d had for the other men in her life—hell, even her own sons.
Just before he pushed shut the basement door, River glanced down those stairs again. The glint was back. It could have been eyes. Or maybe something shiny gleaming in the darkness. He couldn’t be certain.
But whatever it was unnerved him like it had Edith. He barely suppressed a shudder. There was something else inside this house, something that felt almost sinister.
* * *
Mac glanced across the truck console at where River sat quietly in the passenger’s seat. “Are you really okay?”
The wounded Marine had been quiet since he’d stepped out of the house. Not that that was unusual for River. He had always been a quiet kid. And since he’d been injured, he had become even more withdrawn.
River nodded, then snorted derisively. “Can’t believe you thought that horse threw me.”
“You haven’t been on a horse in years,” Mac reminded him. And he was still recovering from whatever had happened on that last deployment, but Mac didn’t have to remind him of that. He doubted it was ever far from River’s mind.
“Doesn’t matter,” River said. “I haven’t forgotten what you taught me.”
Mac had taught all the Colton kids to ride. River was nearly as good a rider as Thorne, who was probably second only to Jade.
“I wasn’t questioning your abilities,” Mac assured him. “It’s that damn stallion. He’s skittish and unpredictable.”
“So is your niece.”
Mac snorted now. “You don’t know Edith.” She was one of the strongest, most determined and driven women Mac had ever known. Not that he’d known her that long. Thanks to the nightmare that Livia Colton had made of his life, he’d lost track of his sister and his young niece. But that was his fault. He should have made time for Merrilee and Edith as well as Thorne and the other Colton kids. He’d always known his sister was fragile. He just hadn’t realized how fragile, however. Edith was nothing like her mother. But he wasn’t certain she knew that. While they had reconnected once she’d become an adult, she was still quite guarded with him. So guarded that he hadn’t even known the company for which she worked had bought La Bonne Vie.
“No, I don’t know Edith,” River admitted as he turned in the passenger’s seat and leaned slightly over the console. “Why don’t I know her?”
“You’ve been gone for ten years,” Mac said.
“But why don’t I know her from before then?” he asked. “I remember the pictures you had of her as a little girl, but I don’t remember her ever coming to visit. She’s from Louisiana, right?”
Mac uttered a sigh, but it didn’t ease any of the heaviness in his chest, any of the guilt. “Yeah, she grew up in New Orleans. I lost touch with my sister and her for a long time. I didn’t know...”
“Didn’t know what?” River asked.
“Didn’t know my sister had lost her husband and that she’d been struggling...”
“Financially?” River prodded when he’d trailed off.
Emotion choked Mac, and he could only shake his head. Even now he couldn’t talk about it—couldn’t think about it without the guilt overwhelming him.
Was that why River couldn’t talk about whatever had happened to him? Did he feel some form of guilt, as well—for surviving when others hadn’t?
Mac was glad the ranch was close, because he pulled into the driveway behind Edith’s car and cut the engine and the conversation.
But River wasn’t fooled. “Guess I’m not the only one who has things he’d rather not talk about.”
Mac sighed. “I can’t change the past,” he said. “So there’s no point in discussing it.”
“Exactly,” River agreed.
But Mac wasn’t as convinced that was true for River. Maybe he needed to talk about it, to work through it and get beyond it. Before he could suggest that, River opened the passenger door and slipped out. He didn’t stop, either—he headed straight for the barn. Hopefully he didn’t intend to take that damn horse out for another ride.
“Hey,” he called after him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”
River didn’t even turn back—just shook his head and continued to walk away.
“Where’s he going?” Edith asked as she stared after his broad back. “I thought he was staying with you.”
“He’s staying in the apartment in the barn,” Mac said. “I tried to get him to stay in the house...”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
Mac shrugged. “He said he might disturb me.”
“How?” she asked.
Mac glanced down at his niece’s face, her dark gaze locked yet on River. She seemed awfully fascinated with the ex-Marine. While Mac loved River like a son, he wasn’t sure the man would be good for anyone right now. He’d been through so much and probably had more than physical wounds.
“I think it’s the nightmares.” Even with River in the barn, he heard him sometimes—heard the shouting. It sounded like he was trying to warn someone.
Edith shivered.
“Let’s get inside,” he said.
She turned toward him now and shook her head. “I really can’t stay. I have that room in town—”
“It would make more sense for you to stay here,” he said. “So you’ll be close to the estate, if you really intend to go back there.”
“I have to,” she said. But she didn’t sound particularly eager to return.
Mac couldn’t blame her. He hated that house, most of all he hated the memories it held for him. But like he’d told River, he couldn’t change the past, so there was no sense in dwelling on it. He slid his arm
