Page 112 of You'll Find Out
“I had no choice. There was no other way. Dean suggested your father and I picked up on it . . .”
“Your brother?”
Becca hastened to explain. She had to make Brig understand. “Originally it was Dean’s idea, but when I really decided to go through with it and approach Jason, Dean tried to talk me out of it. He told me I was crazy to consider the idea, that he had only been joking when he mentioned your father as a possible source of money.”
“And yet he was the first to consider Jason. Interesting. I didn’t think he knew Dad.”
“He didn’t.”
“You’re sure of that?” Brig’s eyes narrowed as he witnessed Rebecca’s face drain of its natural color.
“I . . . I can’t be sure, but I think that if Dean had ever met your father, Jason’s name would have come up in conversation at some point in time . . . and I don’t remember that it did.”
“Did they ever have the opportunity to meet?”
“Who knows?” Rebecca replied, trying to concentrate on the elusive past. “I suppose it was possible when Sentimental Lady was racing . . . there were a lot of parties. You remember.”
“Then there was a chance that Dean met my father?”
“They could have . . . but so what?”
In the distant mountains a loud clap of thunder disturbed the silence. Brig chose to ignore her question. “We’d better get inside,” he suggested, letting his eyes rove restlessly over her face. He kissed her cheek, catching a drop of rain with his tongue. “If you’re lucky, I might consent to drying off your body . . .”
Rebecca managed a weak, but playful smile. “You’re insufferable,” she whispered, “and you’ve got to catch me first.” She pulled out of his embrace and took off for the house at a dead run, as if the devil himself were pursuing her. When Brig caught up with her, they were both breathless and laughing. He captured her face in his hands and kissed her with all the passion he felt rising within him.
Becca closed her eyes and melted against him, conscious only of the warmth of his lips touching hers and the cool trickle of raindrops against her neck.
She was too obliviously happy to notice the menacing shadow standing in the window of the office, staring down at her with furious blue eyes.
Chapter 11
The week passed too quickly for Brig and it seemed over before it had really begun. During the days he worked with Rebecca, Ian O’Riley, and Gypsy Wind. He saw, for himself, the potential of the bay filly, but also the danger. Someone had drugged a horse such as this once before. Wouldn’t they be likely to do it again? If only he knew who had been involved and what the motive had been. Seeds of suspicion had sprouted in his mind, but he kept silent about his theory until it could be proved one way or another.
Dean had made himself scarce for the duration of Brig’s visit. There had always been some excuse as to Dean’s whereabouts, but it only strengthened Brig’s suspicions. Rebecca’s brother was never around the farm, with the one exception of mealtime. Otherwise, Dean was on errands into town, or fixing a broken fence in some distant field, or just plain nowhere to be found. When Brig had questioned Becca about her brother, she had seemed unconcerned. Dean had always been his own boss and Rebecca rarely kept up on his whereabouts, as long as he carried his weight around the farm. The week that Brig had visited, Dean had done more than his share. He hadn’t worked this hard in several years. Becca thought the entire situation odd, but chalked it up to the fact that Dean had never been comfortable around the wealth and power represented by Brig Chambers.
For Rebecca the week had flown by with the speed of an eagle in flight. She had felt ten years younger basking in the happiness of working day to day with Gypsy Wind and Brig and making love to him long into the cold autumn nights. She found herself wishing that this precious time with Brig would never end, that he would stay with her forever. Her love and respect for him had grown with each passing day, and she no longer tried to fight the inevitable.
Rebecca had come to understand her love and she realized that it would never die, nor could it be ignored. She would have to accept the fact that she loved him, had always loved him, and probably always would continue to love him. Though their paths might take different courses in life, the depth of her feelings for him would never diminish. Not with time. Not with distance. Her love surmounted all obstacles, and if it could never be returned with the intensity of her feelings, she could accept that. She would take Brig on whatever terms he offered. She was resigned to her fate of loving him, and content in the knowledge that he cared very deeply for her.
What bothered her was the time apart from him. When Sunday evening came, and she finally faced the fact that he would be leaving within a few short hours, she wanted to scream at him to stay, plead with him to content himself for a few more days with her, beg him to love her . . . just one more night.
Instead, she donned what she hoped was a cheery expression and put together an unforgettable meal while he talked to Ian O’Riley. She could watch them from the kitchen window. A tall, dark-haired man with laughing gray eyes hunched over the fence as he listened to the stooped form of the grizzled old jockey. She really didn’t understand why, but the scene, set before the weathered receiving barn, brought tears to her eyes. Hastily, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t give way to the sadness she felt knowing that Brig would be gone within a few hours, and it was a vow she intended to keep. She didn’t want to play on his emotions, or appear as just another weepy female. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.
She heard Dean’s pickup before it came into view. He had been away from the farm for the afternoon and Becca hadn’t expected him to return until later in the evening. Since Brig had arrived at the farm, Dean had avoided him. Dean got out of the truck, nodded curtly toward the two men who had witnessed his noisy entrance, and then headed toward the house. The back door opened to close with a thud as Dean came into the kitchen. He tossed his hat onto a hook near the door and scowled.
“I thought Chambers was leaving,” he grumbled.
“He is, but he decided to take a later flight.”
“Great.” Dean’s sarcasm was too caustic to ignore.
After seasoning the salmon with lemon butter, Becca put it into the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. “Has Brig’s stay here interfered with your life, Dean?” she asked with a forced smile. “I don’t see how. You’ve made a point of steering clear of him.”
“He makes me uncomfortable.”
“Why?”
“He throws his weight around too much. This isourfarm. Why doesn’t he just leave and take care of his damned oil company? You’d think he’d have more than enough to handle without coming around here and sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
