Yesterday's Lies (11 page)

Trask didn’t seem consoled and ignored his drink.

“We don’t need the wine,” Tory pointed out. “Maybe Neva knew that it would be best if we kept our wits about us.”

“Maybe.” Trask eyed Tory speculatively, his gaze centering on the disturbing pout of her lips. “She thinks I’ve given you enough grief as it is.”

“You have.”

Trask took off his hat and studied the brim. “You’re not about to let down a bit, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that you’re going to keep the old barriers up, all the time.”

“You’re the one intent on digging up the past; I’m just trying to keep it in perspective.”

“And have you?”

Tory’s muscles went tense. She took a swallow of her tea before answering. “I’m trying, Trask. I’m trying damned hard. Everyone I know thinks I’m crazy to go along with your plans, and I’m inclined to believe them. But I thought that if you came up here, poked around, did your duty, so to speak, that you’d drop it and the fires of gossip in Sinclair would die before another scandal engulfed us. I knew that you wouldn’t just let go of the idea that another person was involved in your brother’s death, and I also realized that if I fought you, it would just drag everything out much longer and fuel the gossip fires.”

He set his food aside and wrapped his arms around his knees while studying the intriguing angles of Tory’s face. “And that’s the only reason you came up here with me?”

“No.”

He lifted his thick brows, encouraging her to continue.

After setting her now empty plate on the top of the basket, she leaned back on her arms and stared at the countryside far below the ridge. “If by the slim chance you did find something, some clue to what had happened, I thought it might prove Dad’s innocence.”

“Oh, Tory...” He leaned toward her and touched her cheek. “I know you don’t believe this, but if there were a way to show that Calvin had no part in the Quarter Horse swindle, or Jason’s death, don’t you think I’d be the first to do it?”

He sounded sincere and his deep blue eyes seemed to look through hers to search for her soul. God, but she wanted to believe him and trust in him again. He had been everything to her and the hand on her cheek was warm and encouraging. It conjured vivid images from a long-ago love. She had trouble finding her voice. The wind rustled restlessly through the branches overhead and Tory couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but the feel of Trask’s fingers against her skin. “I...I don’t know.” She finished the cold tea and set her glass on the ground.

“My intention wasn’t to crucify your father, only to tell my side of the story, in order that Jason’s murderers were found out and brought to justice. If Calvin wasn’t guilty, he should have stood up for himself—”

“But he didn’t; and your testimony sent him to prison.” She swallowed back the hot lump forming in her throat.

“Would it help you to know that I never, never meant to hurt you?” he asked, lowering his head and tenderly brushing his lips over hers.

“Trask—” The protest forming in her throat was cut off when his arms wrapped around her and he drew her close, the length of his body pressed urgently to hers.

“I’ve missed you, Tory,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotions he would rather have denied.

“And I’ve missed you.”

“But you still can’t forgive me?”

She shook her head and for a moment she thought he would release her. He hesitated and stared into her pain-filled eyes. “Oh, hell,” he muttered, once again pulling her close to him and claiming her lips with his.

His hands were warm against her back and through the fabric of her blouse she felt the heat of his fingers against her skin. Her legs were entwined with his and his hips pressed urgently to hers, pinning her to the ground as one of his hands moved slowly upward and removed the leather throng restraining her hair.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered against her ear as he twined his fingers in her hair, watching the auburn-tinged curls frame her face in wild disarray. Slumberous green eyes rimmed with dark curling lashes stared up at him longingly. “I want you, Tory,” he said, his breathing ragged, his heart thudding in his chest and the heat in his loins destroying rational thought. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

“I don’t know that wanting is enough, Trask,” she whispered, thinking about the agonizing hours she had spent in the past five years wanting a man she couldn’t have; wishing for a father who was already dead; desiring the life she had once had before fate had so cruelly ripped it from her.

“Just let me love you, Tory.”

The words had barely been said when she felt Trask stiffen. He turned to look over his shoulder just as a shot from a rifle cracked through the still mountain air.

Tory’s blood ran cold with fear and a scream died in her throat. Trask flattened himself over her body, protectively covering her as the shot ricocheted through the trees and echoed down the hillside.
Dear God, what was happening? The sound was so close!

With the speed and agility of an athlete, Trask scrambled to his feet while jerking her arm and pulling her to relative safety behind a large boulder.

Tory’s heart was hammering erratically as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and discovered that her hands were shaking. “Oh, God,” she whispered in desperate prayer.

“Are you okay?” His eyes scanned her face and body.

Her voice failed her but she managed to nod her head.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!”

“Who knows we’re here?” Trask demanded, his hushed voice harsh, his eyes darting through the trees.

“No one—I didn’t tell anyone,” she replied.

“Well someone sure as hell knows we were here!”

“But—”

“Shh!” He clamped his hand over her mouth and raised a finger to his lips as he strained to hear any noise that might indicate the whereabouts of the assailant. Far down the hillside, the sound of hurried footsteps crackled through the brush. Tory’s skin prickled with fear and her eyes widened until she realized that the footsteps were retreating, the sound of snapping branches becoming more distant.

Trask moved away from the protection of the boulder as if intent on tracking the assailant.

“Trask! No!” Tory screamed, clutching at his arm. “Leave it alone.”

He tried to shake her off and turned to face her. “Someone’s taking shots at us and I’m going to find out who.”

“No wait! He has a rifle, you...you can’t go. You don’t have any way of protecting yourself!”

“Tory!”

“Damn it, Trask, I’m scared!” she admitted, holding his gaze as well as his arm. Her lower lip trembled and she had to fight the tears forming in her eyes. “You can’t die, too,” she whispered. “I won’t let you!” He stood frozen to the spot. “I love you, Trask,” Tory admitted. “Please, please, don’t get yourself killed. It’s not worth it. Nothing is!” Tory felt near hysteria as she clutched at his arm.

Trask stood stock still, Tory’s words restraining him. “You love me?” he repeated.

“Yes!” Her voice broke. “Oh, God, yes.”

“But you’ve been denying—”

“I know, I know. It’s just that I don’t want to love you.”

“Because of the past.”

“Yes.”

“Then we have to find out the truth,” he decided.

“It’s not worth getting killed.”

Trask’s eyes followed the sound of the retreating footsteps and the skin whitened over his cheekbones as he squinted into the encroaching night. His one chance at finding the accomplice in Jason’s murder had just slipped through his fingers. When silence once again settled on the ridge, he turned his furious gaze on Tory. His grip on her shoulders, once gentle, was now fierce.

“Who did you tell that we were here?” he demanded.

“No one!”

“But your brother and that foreman, Rex Engels, they knew we would be here this afternoon.”

Tory shook her head and her green eyes blazed indignantly. She jerked away from his fingers and scooted backward on the ground. “I didn’t tell anyone, Trask. Not even Keith or Rex; they...neither one of them would have approved. As far as I know the only person who knew we were coming here today was Neva!”

The corners of Trask’s mouth tightened and he glared murderously at Tory. “Someone set us up.”

“And you think it was me?”

“Of course not. But it sure as hell wasn’t Neva!”

“Why not? She didn’t want you coming up here, did she? She doesn’t want you to look into Jason’s death, does she? Why wouldn’t she do something to sabotage you?”

He walked away a few steps and rubbed the back of his neck. “That just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well nothing else does either. The anonymous note, the dead calf and now this—” She raised her hands over her head. “Nothing is making any sense, Trask. Ever since you came back to the Lazy W, there’s been nothing but trouble!”

“That’s exactly the point, isn’t it?” he said quietly, his mouth compressing into an angry line. “Someone’s trying to scare you; warn you to stay away from me.”

“If that’s his intention, whoever he is, he’s succeeded! I’m scared right out of my mind,” she admitted while letting her head fall into her palm.

“What about the rest, Tory? That shot a few minutes ago was a warning to you to stay away from me!” He looked over his shoulder one last time.

“If that’s what it was—”

“That’s exactly what it was,” he interjected. “Let’s go, before someone decides to take another potshot at us.”

“You think that’s what they were trying to do?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“But maybe someone saw a rattlesnake, or was hunting.”

“It’s not deer season.”

“Maybe rabbits—” She saw the look of disbelief on his face. “Or maybe the guy was a poacher...or someone out for target practice.”

“It’s nearly dark, Tory. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being the bull’s-eye.”

From the look on Trask’s rugged features, Tory could tell that he didn’t believe her excuses any more than she did. He walked over to her and placed his hands upon her shoulders, drawing her close, holding her as he started walking back to the Blazer. “I’d like to believe all those pitiful reasons, too,” he admitted.

“But you can’t.”

“Nope.” He opened the door of the Blazer for her, helped her inside and climbed into the driver’s seat. “No, Tory,” he said, his voice cold. “Someone’s trying to keep us apart, by scaring us with dead cattle and rifle shots.”

“And that means there must be some truth to the letter,” she finished for him.

“Exactly.” He smiled a little remembering Tory’s confession of love, started the Blazer, circled around the parking lot and started driving down the rutted lane back to the Lazy W.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“S
O
WHERE
IS
everyone?” Trask asked as he parked the truck near the barn.

“I don’t know,” Tory admitted uneasily. She got out of the Blazer and started walking toward the back of the dark house. The only illumination came from a pale moon and the security lamps surrounding the buildings of the ranch.

Trask was on Tory’s heels, his footsteps quickening so that he could catch up with her. “What about your brother, where is he?”

If only I knew
. “He and Rex were working on the broken combine this afternoon,” she thought aloud, trying to understand why the ranch was deserted. “They probably went into town for a part, got held up and decided to stay for dinner...”

“Or he was up on the ridge with a rifle?” Trask suggested.

Tory turned quickly and couldn’t disguise the flush of anger on her cheeks. “Don’t start in about Keith, okay? He would never do anything that might jeopardize my life.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“As sure as I am about anything.” Tory turned toward the house, dashed up the steps to the porch and unlocked the back door. She had trouble keeping her fingers steady as she worked with the lock. What was it Keith had said just yesterday? His words came back to her in chilling clarity.

“I would have met McFadden with a rifle in my hands...the next time McFadden trespasses, I’ll be ready for him.”

Tory’s stomach knotted with dread and disgust. Trask had her thoughts so twisted that now she was doubting her own brother; the boy she had helped rear since their mother’s death. Ignoring the hideous doubts crowding her mind, she flipped on the light and walked into the kitchen.

“What about the foreman?”

“Rex?”

“Yeah.”

Tory almost laughed at the absurdity of Trask’s insinuation. “You’ve got to be kidding! I’ve known Rex since I was a little girl—he’d do anything for the ranch. It’s been his life. Dad hired him when Rex was down and out, when no other rancher in this state would touch him. Besides, neither Rex nor Keith knew where I was this afternoon.”

Trask leaned against the cupboards, supporting his weight with his hands while Tory made a pot of coffee. Deep furrows etched his brow. “Why wouldn’t anyone hire Rex?”

“You want to see all of the skeletons in the closet, don’t you?”

“Only if it helps me understand what’s going on.”

“Well, forget it. Rex was in trouble once, when he was younger—before I was born. Dad hired him.”

“What kind of trouble?” Trask persisted.

Tory frowned as she tried to remember. “I don’t really know. Dad never talked about it. But once, when I was about eleven and I was supposed to be studying, I overheard Dad talking to Rex. It was something to do with Rex’s past. It had to do with his ex-wife, I can’t remember her name, it was something like Marlene or...Marianne, maybe. Something like that. Anyway, there was some sort of trouble between them, talk of him drinking and becoming abusive. She left Rex and no one would hire him.”

“Except your dad.”

“Right. And Rex has been with the Lazy W ever since.”

“Without any trouble.”

“Right.”

Trask bit at his lower lip pensively. “I thought he was married.”

“He is. He married Belinda about seven years ago.”

“So he’s above suspicion.”

“Of course he is. He was the one who showed us the dead calf in the first place, remember?” She tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently. “Look, I don’t like the thoughts that are going through your head. You’re more than willing to start pointing fingers at anyone associated with the ranch, but no one here knew where we were going.”

“We could have been followed,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her movements.

She was about to pull some mugs down from the shelf, but hesitated and her slim shoulders slumped. “God, you’re as bad as Keith,” she muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that the both of you have overactive, extremely fertile imaginations when it comes to each other. If you’d just sit down and try to straighten all of this out like adults instead of going for each other’s throat, we’d all be a lot better off.”

“I agree.”

Trask grabbed a chair from the table, placed it on the floor and straddled it. He folded his arms over the back of the chair and rested his chin on his arms as he studied Tory.

“You agree?” she repeated incredulously.

“Of course. It just makes sense that if we all work together we can accomplish much more in a shorter space of time.”

“And then you could finish this business and fly back to Washington,” she thought aloud. Suddenly the future seemed incredibly bleak.

“Don’t you want me to go?” he asked.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she pushed her burnished hair from her face. “It doesn’t really matter what I want,” she whispered. “You’ve got an important job in Washington, people depend on you. There was a time when I would have begged you to stay...”

“And now?”

She winced, but decided to put her cards on the table. As the coffee finished perking and filled the room with its warm scent, she leaned one hip against the counter and stared into his deep blue eyes. “And now I think we’re all better off if you go back to the capital, senator. I fell in love with you once and I won’t let it happen again. Ever.”

“What about what you said on the ridge?” he asked softly.

“I was scared; nothing more. I didn’t want you to do anything foolish!”

“Tory—” He stood, but she cut off his next words.

“I don’t want to hear it, Trask. Here—” She quickly poured them each a cup of coffee and tried to think of a way, any way, to change the course of the conversation. “Take your coffee and we’ll drink it in the den.”

“You can’t ignore or deny what’s happening between us.”

“What’s happening is that I’m trying to help you figure out if that note you received is a phony. That’s all.” She turned away from him and walked down the hall, hoping that her hands and voice would remain steady.

Once in the den she snapped on two lamps and walked over to the window.
Where was Keith?
She needed him now. Being alone with Trask was more than foolhardy, it was downright dangerous and seductive. She stood in front of the window and sipped her coffee as she looked across the parking lot to the shadowy barns.

Trask entered the room. She heard rather than saw him and felt the weight of his stare. His eyes never left her as he crossed the room and propped one booted foot on the hearth. “What are you afraid of, Tory?”

“I already told you, I’m not afraid...just confused. Everything in my life seems upside-down right now.”

“Because of me?”

She let out a long sigh. “Yes.”

“It will be over soon,” he said. “Then your life will be back to normal—if that’s what you want.”

My life will never be the same again, Trask
. “Good. I...I just want all this...nonsense to be over.” She took a long sip of her coffee and set the empty mug on the windowsill. Her fingers had stopped shaking. “It’s late. I think maybe you should leave.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, cocking a dark brow. “But I think it’s time we settled some things between us.” He reached over and snapped off the lamp on an end table. With only the light from the small brass lamp on the desk, the corners of the room became shadowed, more intimate.

Bracing herself, she turned and faced him. “Such as?”

He leaned back against the rocks of the fireplace and all of his muscles seemed to slacken. Defeat darkened his eyes. “Such as the fact that I’ve never gotten over you—”

“I told you, I don’t want to hear this,” she said, walking away from the window and shaking her head. “The past is over and done—it can’t be changed or repeated. What happened between us is over.
You
took care of that.”

“I love you, Tory,” he said slowly, his voice low.

Tory stopped dead in her tracks. How long had she waited, ached, to hear just those words? “You don’t understand the first thing about love, Trask. You never have.”

“And you’re always quick to misjudge me.”

“You can’t expect me to trust you, Trask, not after what happened to my father. It was all because of you.”

Trask’s face hardened and a muscle in the back of his jaw tightened. “Calvin is dead; I can’t change that.” He pushed away from the fireplace and crossed the room to stand before her. “Don’t you think I wish he were alive? Don’t you realize how many times I’ve punished myself, knowing that he died in prison, primarily because of my testimony?” His troubled eyes searched her face and he reached forward to grip her shoulders. “Damn it, woman, I’d have given my right arm to hear his side of the story—only the man wouldn’t tell it. It was as if he’d taken this vow of silence as some sort of penance for his crimes!” Trask’s voice was low and threatening. “I’ve been through hell and back because of that trial!”

The grip on her arms was punishing, the conviction on Trask’s face enough to cut her to the bone. “God, Trask, I wish I could believe you,” she admitted, her voice trembling.

“But you can’t.”

“You betrayed me!”

He gave her a shake. Her hair fell over her eyes. “I told the truth on the witness stand. Nothing less. Nothing more.” His voice was rising with his anger. “And your father didn’t do a damned thing to save himself! Don’t you think I’ve lain awake at night wondering what really happened on the night Jason was killed?” His face contorted with his rage and agony.

“I...I don’t know...”

“Damn it, Tory! Believe it or not, I’m human. If you cut me, I bleed.” He released her arms and let out a disgusted breath of air. Blue eyes seared through hers. “And, lady, you’ve cut me to ribbons...”

She let her face fall into her hands. Her entire body was shaking and the tears she would rather have forced back filled her eyes to spill through her fingers. “God, I wanted to trust you, Trask. I...I spent more than my share of sleepless nights wondering why did you use me? Why did you tell me you loved me? Why was I such a fool to believe all your lies...all your goddamned lies!” She began to sob and she felt the warmth of his arms surround her. “Let go of me,” she pleaded.

“Never again.” With one hand he snapped off the light on the desk. The room was suddenly shrouded in darkness. Only the pale light from a half-moon spilled through the windows. “Oh, love, I never used you. Never—”

“No...Trask...” His lips touched her hair, and his arms held her close. The heat of his body seemed to reach through her flesh and melt the ice in her heart. “I...I just loved you too much.”

“Impossible.”

“I know it’s stupid,” she conceded, letting the barriers that had held them apart slowly fall, “but I want to trust you again. God, I’ve wanted to be able to talk to you for so long; you don’t know how many times I just wished that you were here, that I could talk to you.”

“You should have called.”

“I couldn’t! Don’t you see? You were my whole world once and you destroyed everything I’d ever loved. My father, my career, this ranch, and our love—everything.”

“All because I told the truth.”

“Your perception of the truth!”

“Tory, listen to me, you have to understand one thing: throughout it all I always loved you. I still do.”

She felt the cold hatred within her begin to thaw and her knees went weak as she leaned against him, felt the strength of his arms, the comfort of his kiss. How many times had she dreamed and fantasized about being in Trask’s arms again? “You love me Trask,” she sniffed, slowly pulling out of his embrace and drying her eyes with her fingers, “when it’s convenient for you. It was convenient for you five years ago when you were trying to help your brother with the horse swindle and it’s convenient now, when you need my help.” She stepped back and held his gaze. “I won’t be used again, you know. Not by you.”

“I wouldn’t.” His blue eyes were honest; the jut of his jaw firm with conviction. It was impossible not to believe him.

Tory cleared her throat. “Then what about Neva?”

“What about her?”

“Are you staying with her?” she asked, knowing the question was none of her business, but unable to help herself.

Trask’s skin tightened over his cheekbones and his muscles tensed, but he didn’t look away. “I did the first night. Since then, I’ve opened up the cabin on the Metolius River. It wasn’t ready when I got into Sinclair,” he began to explain and then let out an angry oath. “Hell, Tory, does it matter?” he demanded.

Her eyes turned cold. “Not really, I guess. I just like to know what or whom I’m up against. With you and that damned anonymous letter of yours, sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“I’m not having an affair with my brother’s widow, if that’s what you want to know.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“Like hell! Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?” When she didn’t respond, he curled a fist and slammed it into the wall near the desk, rattling a picture of an Indian war party. “Hell, woman, I’d be a liar to say that I’ve spent that past five years celibate, but I’m not involved with anyone right now except for you!” Once again his fingers captured her, winding comfortably behind her neck.

“We’re not involved!”

With her indignation, his anger dissipated into the intimate corners of the room. Trask’s smile was lazy and confident. “That’s where you’re wrong. We’ve been involved since the first time I laid eyes on you. Where was it? Rafting on the Deschutes River!”

“That was a long time ago,” she murmured, recalling the wild ride down the white water. Though she had gone with another man, Trask’s eyes hadn’t left her throughout the day. Even then she’d seen the spark of seduction in his incredible blue gaze. Sitting on the raft, his tanned skin tight over lean corded muscles, his wet hair shining brown-gold in the summer sun, he didn’t bother to hide his interest in her. And she fell. Lord, she fell harder than any sane person had a right to fall. She had met him later that night and within two weeks they’d become lovers. The irony of it all was that she had thought she would spend the rest of her life with him.
Only it didn’t work out that way.