Lacy (The Doves of Primrose) (17 page)

Lacy was sweating from making sure everyone had what they wanted, taking orders and running from the hot kitchen
where Scarlett and Mrs. Walters were slaving away and back to the tables. Noticing that a new table had been conjured from thin air and occupied, she pushed her damp hair back and took out pen and paper. She had long ago dispersed any notion she could remember all those orders like usual.

“What can I get for you today?”

“Lacy, honey, you look just
awful
.”

That voice
shrank Lacy’s heart and sucked all the air from her lungs. She recalled the feeling well, having suffered it many times over the eight years she was married to the possessor’s son. Barricading herself with a polite front, Lacy looked up.

“Candy. I didn’t see you here. How are you?” She poised her pen over the pape
r, hoping her former mother-in-law would take the hint.

The woman reached out and squeezed Lacy’s arm.
Guess not
.

“Sweetie, your hair.”
Candy gave Lacy her customary tilted-chin, over-the-rim-of-her-glasses stare. “It is simply a ball of fuzz.” She was a master at lacing concern with criticism, leaving a person baffled.  “And those eyes.” She clucked her tongue and pulled her hand away. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

Lacy quirked her head
. “Actually, the past six months have been the best sleep of my life.”

Candy sat back in her chair with a bemused smile and crossed her arms. Lacy had poked the snake with a stick. She closed her eyes
and waited for the repercussion.

“So
, have you seen much of Kyle McClintock?”

Ah
, a fishing expedition.
Lacy was too tired for this and what’s more, she was sick of the games. She had no ties, no loyalties to this woman. “Some. Can I get you something to eat, Candy?”

“What’s it like having to put up with these people? It looks like it’s taking its toll on you.”

Lacy met her steady gaze, feeling eerily like she was staring Brice down. “Well, I lived with your son for eight years. I think I can manage a few overindulged movie stars.”
God, that felt good!

Candy chuckled lightly. “I’ve missed you
, Lacy.”

Lacy knew that was a lie. This woman had never passed up an opportunity to trample Lacy’s self-esteem.
Candy heaved a tired sigh. “I mean it. You were the best thing that ever happened to that son of mine. When he married you I knew you would be the one to get him to straighten up.”

Lacy’s jaw dropped to the table. This had to be a set-up. Ca
ndy was preparing her for epic humiliation. Lacy watched her fidget in her chair.

“I know you think I hated you and I was disappointed in my son for marrying you.” Candy paused and picked at the tablecloth with her long fingernails. She let out a long breath
. “I was hard on you, I know I was.” She flashed a look at Lacy, held it for a moment and looked back down. Lacy was completely transfixed by her mother-in-law’s revelation. “But I just thought that Brice would rise to your defense and it would bring the two of you together.” A morose hint of a smile crossed her lips. “I guess I was wrong.”

Lacy didn’t know how to reply to that.
Her emotions were playing tug-of-war. The woman she had hated for so long was essentially apologizing to her for years of embarrassment and animosity. In the back of her mind Lacy knew she needed to get back to work-- people were bustling behind her, chatter was buzzing--but her life had just been rewritten and she was frozen in place, staring at this woman she didn’t know at all.

“Lacy.”

All Lacy could do was shake her head and raise her eyebrows. She felt like a goat on the losing end of a head-butt battle.

“I wanted to let you know that I talked to Brice last night and he’s really sorry things have turned out the way they have.” Candy reached out and touched Lacy’s arm again but Lacy instin
ctively jerked away, staring hard at her former mother-in-law. It didn’t deter her. “If you would just talk to him I think you two could work it out.”

That last bit sent Lacy over the edge. She set her hand down on the table hard enough to make the silverware dance, leaned
uncomfortably close to Candy and glared into her face. “What your son is sorry about is the fact that he has spent all of the money he stole from me and he figures if he plays real nice I just might cave in and give him some more. Well, Candy, you can be sure that will
never
happen. We will
never
get back together and if he ever shows back up in Primrose I’ll shoot him. Trust me, Candy, I will never see him again. He’s too busy chasing skirts and gold to think twice about me.” Lacy pulled back. “Do you know how humiliating it is to have to admit that your husband ran off to mine gold in Alaska? The complete absurdity of that?” Lacy shook her head and scoffed, “I can’t even say it with a straight face. The way people look at me, pity me, when they realize that I’m such an awful wife that he would rather be in the wild tundra, digging a hole in the earth than be with me.” She plunked her hands on her hips. “Now can I get you your regular? Or would you like to try the beef?”

Candy held Lacy’s eyes in a long stare, but Lacy didn’t look away. “My regular,” she finally answered.
“Okay. It’ll be right out.”

Lacy walked away with her head high
, feeling light-headed with relief. It had taken her too long to say the things she kept buried inside. On her way to the kitchen she glimpsed Kyle coming down the back stairs and onto the lawn. He was so handsome in the afternoon sun that her heart actually jumped at the sight of him. She watched for a second, wondering why his face was so stern and where he was heading with such purpose. She couldn’t watch for long, though, she was being summoned by more guests.

Chapter 16

Kyle had
watched his parents arrive at The Dove House. He had been standing at the window staring out over the trees and the pastures most of the night and hadn’t slept at all, his mind wouldn’t let him. He had spent the hours between the incident in the kitchen and sunrise piecing it all together. He had played back over everything he could remember, trying to fill in the blanks with what he had learned. He still wasn’t exactly certain what had happened between Lacy, Eric and Sam but from Lacy’s reaction both back then and now, and of what he remembered of his so-called friends, he had a pretty good idea.

They had slashed his tire to keep him busy while they took a
fter Lacy. His heart tore to pieces with the possibility it could be as bad as his imagination allowed; he hoped it wasn’t. Either way he wouldn’t rest until he had tracked down Eric and Sam and exacted his revenge for what they had done to Lacy and to him. Their actions had released a vortex of pain for many people. His and Lacy’s lives would have been so different had his friends not been so jealous of his relationship that they would destroy it and Lacy in the process.

He wished he had never told Eric and Sam about what he and Lacy were doing. The way he had felt about her
, though, was too hard for him to keep secret, even if he had promised Lacy he would. For that, he would forever be sorry. That mistake had cost him years of happiness and devastated the woman he loved so much that she didn’t trust him. And he couldn’t blame her, he had betrayed her. He had divulged their secret relationship and she had paid for his mistake. He never thought there was that kind of evil in the world. He had already phoned the investigator he liked to use when he needed one and it would only be a matter of time before Mike tracked them down. Kyle would be waiting. But for now, he would take care of the other matter that had been niggling him for the past decade.

Kyle rubbed his bleary eyes
, craving coffee and vengeance. Seeing his parents come into view, he meant to get both. He went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and started for the dining room. Before he even arrived at the bottom of the stairs he could see he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. Flocks of people occupied every free space in the house, spilling over into the lawn. He felt sorry for the cast and crew, they were going to be mauled by awaiting fans.

He was reminded that he was now one of the adored when all heads turned and he felt the tide change. Soon he would be flocked with old friends and acquaintances wanting an audience with the
small-town boy who had made good. But he wasn’t in any state to be gracious and friendly. The smell of blood was in his nostrils and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got it.

He nodded abstractly to as many as he could while moving swiftly forward. Had he thought about it sooner he would’ve worn his hat and sunglasses, but lack of sleep and seething rage weren’t conducive to coherent
thought. He walked out the front door and onto the porch where he was met with another throng of townspeople. Some he recognized, some he didn’t. He scanned the crowd, intent on finding two faces.

Finally he spotted them at a table near the tree where he had rescued Lacy not three days ago. It was the first time he would be face to face with them in almost eight years. He made a beeline to their table with the words already on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell them how awful they were, how their hateful, na
rrow-minded ways had killed Adam, how his father deserved to be in that wheelchair because of it. Every feeling, every thought he had kept buried over the years, the things that had kept him away all these years, were bubbling to the surface. Now that he was being fueled by anger and betrayal his actions were virtually unrestrained.

His heart was thundering in his ears when he arrived at the table and stood
looking down at them. His presence drew their attention. He braced himself, gathering his words into sentences in his mind. But seeing his mother’s glistening eyes and the wide smile that dawned slowly over her aged face cracked his wall of anger. Her chin was quivering as she pushed her chair back and rose, her brown eyes never leaving his face. She reached for him, pulling him into a loving embrace and he was twelve again. He wrapped his arms around her waist, finding it thicker than he remembered, but her scent was there when he turned his face into her neck. That same smell of baby powder, limes and confections. The memory of her in the kitchen, of sitting at their table while she served meals and desserts overtook every angry pore, filling it with warmth and regret.

He held her tighter and she stroked his hair, the same way she did when he was a boy, murmuring into his ear about missing him and loving him. All hate fell away. She placed her hands on each side of his face
and drew back to look at him. Her eyes devoured him, inspecting every feature with awe and happiness. He felt a blush consume his face.

“Oh, you’re so handsome.” Tears clogged his mother’s voice. “Yo
u need to eat more.” She sniffed, keeping her hands on his shoulders. “You’re too skinny.”

Kyle laughed.
Same old Carol McClintock. He looked at her, realizing that time had not been entirely kind to her. Her hair was almost completely grey and the wrinkles in her forehead and around her mouth were deep, signs of a stressful and hard-lived life. His chest constricted with the knowledge that he had compounded that. His absence had added stress to her life. And he was now sorry for that.

“How are you
, Mama?” He tilted his head. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh,
pshaw.” She squeezed his shoulders and blushed. “I’m an old lady. Sit down, sit down.” She released him and motioned to the open chair. He waited while she sat, then turned to where his father was. He was less surprised to see that his father hadn’t changed as much as his mother. He was a hard man, even age wouldn’t dare tamper with Dallas McClintock’s plans.

Years of discipline and lessons in respect won the war inside
Kyle. “Hello, Dad. You’re looking well.” Kyle couldn’t read the expression on his father’s face. He sat in the empty seat, placed his elbows on the table and promptly removed them, straightening in his chair.

“Hello,
son.” Kyle hadn’t heard that gravelly voice in a long time. He wasn’t sure if his father was angry or just annoyed with his presence.

“How’s the herd?” Kyle reverted to the same talk they had been having since his birth.

Dallas shifted from one arm of his wheelchair to the other. Kyle knew a man such as his father hated the inconvenience of being incapacitated but took his burden with a grain of salt. “We just sent the last of the feeders off, some of ’em had a hard time weaning. With this drought we’ve been having, the grass hasn’t been as good as we’d hoped.”

And just like that they had fallen right back into old habits, talking about the ranch, the weather and the town. What his f
ather had gotten at the last sale and so forth. They never spoke of the funds that Kyle filtered into their family ranch, paying for hired cowboys, feed for the herd and horses, housing for the hands. Thousands of dollars were spent every month and never a word had been said.

Kyle didn’t care about the money, not one tiny bit. He’d hand it all over if just once his father would say thank you or ask him how he was doing or hell
, he’d even settle for his dad asking him what his opinion was. But no, Dallas McClintock didn’t need any help, didn’t need anyone else’s ideas or thoughts. He was always right, no matter what.

Emmylou had been by the table to take their orders and e
xchange in small talk, but Kyle had barely noticed what was on the menu or even what he ordered. He didn’t care. Food wasn’t on his mind at this moment. He was wondering, however, how such a proud man could willingly take his son’s money and never let on that he was grateful. The two of them hadn’t seen each other in nearly eight years and it was business as usual. It had been this way after Adam died. There was little mention of his brother after the funeral, the focus all switched to Kyle as if his brother had simply been a speed bump in the road.

“Kyle
, did you hear me?”

His dad’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Sorry
, Dad, I missed it. What did you say?”

“I asked when you were coming home. You’ve been here for three days and we haven’t seen hide
nor hair of ya. Your mother’s jaw has just been a flappin’ in the wind about it. Like to drive me to drink.”

“That’s a pretty short drive
,” Kyle goaded. He knew the instant he let it slip from his mouth it was the wrong thing to say. It had been years since he was actually scared of his father, and turning his head to gauge the man’s level of fury brought back childhood memories of icy fear slicing through his veins, but this time a flash of protective instincts flared in his chest. Those blazing blue eyes, the true meaning of the term fire and ice, were directed at him. And then his brows dropped and his stare became darker.

“What did you say to me
, boy?”

In his youth Kyle would have cowered, apologized and took his punishment for being disrespectful and smart-mouthed. He would’ve gladly taken his punishment which was always lighter if he showed repentance right away. But today he was done with it. He was a
full-grown man who had lived out from under the iron fist of his father for enough years to obtain a backbone and understanding that their relationship shouldn’t be that of a master and slave.

Kyle raised his voice
. “I said, that’s a pretty short drive.” He met his father’s glare eye to eye.

“I see your lifestyle has done nothing to improve your taste for disrespect.”

“Just like yours has done nothing to improve your God complex. You’re still not Him after all these years.”

His father’s sizable hand crashed down on the table. Kyle jumped to his feet
, knocking the chair backwards. Towering over his father, nostrils flared, fists ready for battle, Kyle narrowed his gaze to slits.

“Who do you think you’re talking to
, son?” Dallas McClintock sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his lap.

Kyle’s brain was stumbling. Even though he was bigger, stronger and older he still couldn’t best his father. A fresh burst of rage exploded inside him.
“I think I’m talking to a bigot. A liar, a fraud. A man who was so controlling, demanding and demeaning that he killed his own son.” Kyle barely registered the collective gasp from the tables around him. “I’m talking to a man who couldn’t accept that his son wasn’t falling in line with his idea of perfection and drove him away.” Pain and anger were ripping Kyle apart, memories of his brother’s last night on earth raged in his mind. He closed his eyes against the tears.

“You killed Adam, Dad. You couldn’t accept him, and you killed him.” Kyle swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“Your brother died in a car accident. It was nobody’s fault.”

Hearing his mother’s frantic voice
pleading with him to shut his mouth, to apologize, to stop airing dirty laundry in public drew his attention. For her sake he wished he could do those things. It killed him that he was hurting her, but he had held his feelings in for too long and just gone along with the program.

“No
, Mom. I’m sorry, but that’s not true. Adam may have died in a car accident, but it was
his
fault. If he could’ve just heard Adam out, tried to understand what he was going through then Adam wouldn’t have left when he was so upset. He wouldn’t have been driving fast trying to get away from Dad and he wouldn’t have rolled his car. He would still be alive if our father wasn’t such a bastard.” Kyle slammed his hand down on the table. “Adam was gay, Mom, not rebellious!”

He had just successfully broken his mother’s heart. He watched for one more moment as she crumpled against the chair, devastated
, looking at him as though he were a complete stranger.

“That is quite enough
, Kyle.”

Kyle turned his head slowly with his father’s soft reproach, the despair
registering on him a second before a running Lacy distracted him.

“What is going on out here?” Lacy placed herself between Kyle and his father like some avenging angel. He was so glad to see her, relief weakened his anger. He knew he had an ally in Lacy. She had been his saving grace the summer they spent t
ogether when he shared all of these feelings with her. She knew what he was talking about, she would support him.

“We’re having a very public family discussion,” he answered her.

Her pretty brown eyes stared in disbelief at him and Kyle was confused.

“Yeah.
I caught that. Do you think that you might be able to contain yourself and refrain from embarrassing your parents any further?”

Her hand on his chest was acting as a bridle on a mustang. He looked down at it and back to her before stepping away. She was taking
their
side? He let out an incredulous puff of air and shook his head at her. “Sure.” Her eyes fluttered as the betrayal he felt sank into her, but she held her ground.

Kyle’s anger was spent. He shifted his gaze and saw the to
rment on his father’s face. He dragged his hand over his face and through his hair. With one more look at all of them he pivoted and walked away.