A Woman of Fortune (13 page)

“A favor?” The heavyset man with a receding hairline planted himself in the large black leather chair behind his desk.

“Yes. You see, Tuck's attorneys have worked out a deal with the prosecutors, and a hearing is coming up where the judge will approve the terms of the consent order. Ranger—that's Tuck's attorney—well, he thinks we should line up some folks to testify about Tuck's character.” She rushed to add, “It's just a formality, really. But we'd like for you to testify that you've known Tuck for years and that he serves on the elder board here at Abundant Hills. Kind of provide some context for Tuck's . . . uh, indiscretions. Tuck would have come personally, but he's . . . well, he's staying close to home these days.”

Pastor Richards steepled his fingers. “I see.”

Claire felt a shadowy change in the man's tone. She examined his face for some sign that might assuage her intuition, something that would reveal the man sitting opposite her was squarely in her camp.

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Claire.”

“What? I—I don't understand.”

Pastor Richards took a deep breath and straightened. “No, Claire, I don't think you do,” he said, his voice laced with sadness. “Tonight the board is meeting to remove your husband from his position as an elder.”

Claire's breath caught. “Remove? Well, under the circumstances, I guess that's understandable. But . . .”

The pastor's eyes grew thoughtful. “Let me clarify the situation,” he said, seeming to choose his words carefully. He braced against the back of his tufted leather chair. “Several years back, Tuck submitted a proposal asking that the elders place excess funds, including our building and benevolence money, in his investment program. Over the months, it's been no secret Abundant Hills has enjoyed some
fairly healthy returns. But now . . .” He sighed. “Now this church is broke. If it wasn't for the generosity of a few wealthy members, we wouldn't be able to pay the electric bill next month, let alone buy communion juice—or anything else, for that matter. I don't think under the circumstances I could—”

“I understand.” Claire's fingers fumbled around her purse as she tried to hide their shaking. She schooled her lips into an impersonal smile and stood, glancing over at the cape buffalo. “And I'm—uh, I'm sorry,” she said, trying to mask her expanding shame.

Pastor Richard looked at her with pity. “We could—uh, the women's circle could deliver some meals or—”

She shook her head. “No—uh, that's fine. We're fine.”

Then she turned and silently walked from Pastor Richards's office.

14

D
ad took money from the church?”

“Garrett, calm down. Your father needs our support.” Claire looked her oldest son in the eyes. “Now more than ever.”

Lainie leaned forward from where she sat on the sofa. “I'm with Garrett on this, Mom. The less my photo is flashed in the news right now, the better. I mean, I want to help Daddy, but—”

“But nothing.” Garrett's scowl grew even darker. “I'm not going to be in that courtroom on Tuesday.”

Max stood quietly out of the way. From the corner of the room, he ventured over and shook his head. “Hey, Bro, at least hear Mom out.”

Claire moved and put a supportive arm around Max's shoulders. “Look, Max is right. Let's everybody take a deep breath. I understand none of this is easy. But the only way to move forward is together. Right?”

Max shrugged, whether from modesty or embarrassment, Claire couldn't tell.

“Oh, now
Max
is the family hero?” Garrett glared from behind wire-rimmed glasses, which he rarely wore unless his contacts bothered him. “How mucked up is all this, anyway?”

Max plopped back on the couch and locked his hands behind
his head, fingers lost in the tangled mass of brown curls. “What are you freaking about, Garrett? So we all go to the hearing and tell the judge what a great guy our dad is? C'mon, let's stick by the old man, even though he bilked a bunch of people of their savings and screwed just about everybody we know. Huh, what d'ya say?”

Claire became tearful. “Okay, all of you. You're acting like spoiled brats. Stop it.” She watched her children's faces, waiting. Not seeing the reaction she'd hoped for, she paced in front of the fireplace. “Ranger has worked hard to arrange this plea agreement.” Claire pointed to Garrett. “And your father had to accept a longer sentence to keep you out of all this.”

“I'm
not
a part of any of this.” Garrett narrowed his eyes. “Because of what my father did, I'll never be able to work anywhere without suspicion hanging over my head. Even now, people look at me as if I helped Dad take all these people's money.” He slammed his fist down. “And I was not involved in any way, shape, or form.”

Claire moved toward her son. “Garrett—”

Garrett held up his hand. “Don't, Mom.” His lip quivered and he seemed to fight for control. “The feds are going through every check, every debit transaction. I'm not going to that hearing, and that's final.”

“Anything Tuck did, right or wrong, he did for this family. For all of us.” Claire forced strength into her voice that she failed to feel inside. “I know this is hard. But we are all he has.”

She looked past the sofa, surprised that Marcy now stood in the doorway.

Marcy's chin lifted and she moved into the room, looking every bit the beauty who won the Miss Texas pageant the year before she married. “Claire, your family is not all that matters right now,” she said icily, her hand on her belly.

Claire caught the gesture and quickly searched Garrett's eyes. “Garrett?”

Garrett showed resignation, apprehension even, as he walked to his wife, placing his hand protectively at her back. “We're pregnant.”

Lainie leapt from the sofa, rushed over, and hugged her sister-in-law. “When?”

Max extended his hand to his brother. “Good move. We didn't see that coming.”

Still guarded, Garrett let a slight grin form. “The baby's due right after the first of the year. We'd planned to tell everyone, but then all this with Dad happened.”

Claire didn't know what to say. A new baby was welcome news, even if the timing pricked at her. Announcements of this sort shouldn't be shadowed by what this family now faced.

She could imagine Tuck's elated face when he learned the news. Under different circumstances, he'd claim he was too young to be a grandpa while picking up his daughter-in-law and twirling her. Then he'd whoop and pass out cigars to all the ranch hands.

The image sucked away any joy she felt and bound her reaction with rusty-wire emotion. Like so much of her life going forward, nothing would go as she'd imagined.

“Mom, say something,” Max said. “This is great news.”

Claire walked over and drew both of Marcy's hands into her own. She spoke slowly, with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course I'm thrilled. Congratulations, both of you.” She brushed Marcy's cheek with a kiss and then patted Garrett's shoulder, trying to grasp that her baby would be having a baby.

Garrett's expression sagged, his jaw less sharp and angular. He swallowed. “Look, Mom. I didn't want to do this until Dad got back from his meeting with Ranger, but maybe it's best you hear this first.” He looked to Marcy for reassurance. “Marcy's dad has hired counsel to represent us . . . uh, I mean me.”

“Represent you?” Claire stared at the son who shared her own features, her warm brown eyes and high cheekbones. “What do you mean, Garrett?”

Marcy spoke up. “My father has arranged for an attorney in Houston to advise Garrett.”

“Just what are you meaning?” Lainie challenged. “You don't think Daddy and Ranger will protect you guys?”

Claire held up her hand. This was no time for war to break out in the family. Taut emotions shouldn't supersede good judgment. “Garrett,” she said, trying to get him to look at her. “Help us understand what you're saying.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “We aren't going to stand by and wait for the other shoe to drop. Garrett's going to work for Daddy until all this is over.”

Garrett shifted as if something was being asked of him beyond what he was willing to give. He held up his hand to silence his wife. “I've been advised to not talk about any of this with anyone except Marcy and my attorney. I've already crossed that line to some extent.” He looked to the ceiling for strength. “I have to do what is best for us—for our new baby. I'm already under suspicion and my records have been subpoenaed. I can't take any chances, you know?” His expression grew even more somber. “Marcy and I are moving to Houston to stay with her folks. Just temporarily,” he rushed to add.

“Houston?” Lainie asked. “But that's hours away.”

Claire let out a quick, bitter laugh. “So you're bailing? On running Legacy Ranch, and your father?”

Garrett hesitated. He took a deep breath and shook his head. Tears pooled. “My father bailed on
me
,” he said, his voice clogged with emotion.

The raw pain in her son's eyes startled Claire. She nodded, frustration instantly tempered by an overwhelming sense of protection. This was her child, after all, and he was hurting.

For several seconds, everyone stood quiet, as if one more word might destroy the family structure already threatening to crumble at their feet.

Finally, it was Claire who spoke. “I guess I understand,” she
ventured, acutely aware she really had no choice but to support their decision. She did understand at some level.

Still, her chest cramped with sadness.

She looked directly at Garrett and then Marcy, desperately trying to hold back tears until she'd stated what clearly needed to be expressed. “There's something I want both of you to remember, no matter what. When all this settles down, your home is here. At Legacy Ranch.”

15

L
ainie counted Reece's invitation to meet at the Dallas Arboretum a good sign. Beyond providing the requisite privacy they needed, the botanical showplace was known as one of the most romantic places in the Dallas area—and it was the venue they'd booked for the wedding ceremony in December, with fireworks over the lake and everything.

Only last week, she'd thought Reece's silence signaled the wedding was off. But then the text had come, asking how she was doing. He missed her and needed to see her.

She'd obviously miscalculated Reece's intentions and allowed herself to become insecure, a state fairly foreign to Lainie. But the situation with her father had left everyone in the family unsteady. She was no exception.

Even at this early morning hour, the gardens were filled with visitors strolling walkways lined with carpets of pink and white impatiens, some posing for photos beneath pergolas dripping with soft lavender wisteria.

Lainie wore a tight-fitted blue sundress, meant to ensure Reece was really glad to see her. Before they parted today, she planned on doing everything in her female power to make sure her fiancé
never again left her wondering where they stood, no matter what the polls and advisors dictated.

She made her way past the DeGolyer House and through Magnolia Alley, heading in the direction of the concert stage. As she walked, she considered how the air carried a hint of rose, promising the knockouts would soon be in bloom.

Then she saw him.

Reece sat on a bench, looking out at a sailboat skittering along the shoreline of White Rock Lake, his back to her. Lainie paused for several seconds, surprised at how dry her mouth had become. He turned and spotted her then. His face broke into a smile and he waved her over.

“Hey, Lainie.” Reece stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. The smell of his aftershave made her ache. She'd missed him terribly and whispered in his ear telling him so.

“I missed you too.” He took her hand and guided her to the seat beside him. “And I'm sorry about . . . everything.” Reece glanced around before slipping his Ray-Bans in place. “How's your mom?”

Lainie caught him up, told him about the upcoming hearing. Her parents seemed to be doing all right. They'd been in frequent meetings with Ranger and his firm, planning the turnover of assets to the receiver.

She didn't tell him she'd gone for a glass of milk in the middle of the night and heard her mother crying. Or that she'd pretended not to hear and slipped quietly back to her own room because she didn't know what to say.

She also skipped over Garrett and Marcy's surprise baby news, and that they'd picked up and moved to Houston to avoid what she also wished to escape.

Instead, Lainie tried to remain upbeat until finally she forced herself to ask, “So, how's the campaign?” She swallowed back nerves, waiting to hear whether he was really still down six points like the media reported.

“Slowly climbing back,” he responded.

Relieved, Lainie searched his expression. “That's good. Right?”

Reece nodded. He looked out over the water. “Yeah, the numbers are up. But funding is down.”

“Look, Reece. I know this situation is bad. Believe me, I know.” Lainie touched his elbow. “But you love me. We're going to be married. By the time the election rolls around, all this will have settled down in voters' minds. Many news cycles will have come and gone, and Daddy's business dealings will be ancient history.”

“You're wrong about that, Lainie. Politics creates long memories. The fact your father bilked thousands of people will be used over and over by our opponents.” Reece stood and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “How can I debate educational reform when facing the fact my future father-in-law single-handedly robbed hundreds of people of college funds?” He turned, his voice rising. “Think of how I'm going to possibly counter accusations that a mass of Texans now have zilch in their retirement accounts because of what your dad did.”

“Yes, but—all that will resolve in time. Many candidates have weathered worse. At least you don't have a mistress and a hidden baby somewhere.” She laughed, trying to lighten the tension.

“No, I don't have a hidden love child somewhere.” Reece's tone grew sarcastic. “But you need a reality check. Your father is a crook.”

Lainie tempered her response, though she felt a flash of fury. “I'm perfectly aware of what my father did and how the consequences of his actions ripple.” Despite her desire to remain calm, she stood and pointed her finger in his direction. “I drove here in a Toyota, for goodness' sake. Because heaven forbid how it might look if I zoomed into the parking lot in my Maserati.” She huffed. “Less than two weeks ago, I ordered a wedding gown my mother now tells me we can't pay for. We've had to let our staff go, all our stable hands, the landscapers, my massage therapist—they're all gone. Margarita and Henry are the only ones left.” Lainie flung her arms wide. “I'm plenty in touch with reality.”

With shaking hands, Lainie straightened her dress, already sorry for her outburst. Reece was attracted to strength. Not an angry woman who loaded up her mouth and shot rounds of anger in the not-O.K. Corral. Besides, her fight wasn't with Reece. She loved him and knew his concerns were more than valid. “Reece, I'm sorry. I know none of this is good.”

“Look, Lainie—”

She held up her hand. “No, stop.” Lainie bit her quivering lip.

Reece's eyes saddened and he rubbed his chin. “Lainie, please don't make what I have to say any harder.”

Lainie blinked to clear hot tears forming at the backs of her lids. “I'll make it easy. You don't have to say it.” She quietly slipped the ring off and set her cherished trophy on the seat between them.

Across the lawn, a woman sitting cross-legged on a blanket dipped a tiny plastic wand into a bright blue bottle, raised the wand to her lips, and blew. Her toddler giggled and chased the blast of soap bubbles. Each time he reached for a bubble, it popped.

Lainie slowly lifted her purse from the bench, knowing her own dreams had burst. She'd never stand before this man in a white gown. There'd be no fireworks over a crowd of well-wishers. No White House in her future.

Lainie wasn't the kind of girl who would beg or cajole, or the type who might manipulate with guilt. Her approach was much more direct. She simply bulleted a steely look into her former fiancé's eyes. “You've made a huge mistake.” She stood and headed in the direction of the parking lot.

Alaina Claire Massey never once looked back.