Read Deep Dixie Online

Authors: Annie Jones

Deep Dixie (8 page)


Pressing those option against my wishes, though.

He laced his arms over his chest.

That is
not
your job. Not as I see it. Not as I pay you to do it.

The mention of payment brought a fleeting, flinching response. No matter what their personal relationship was—or more aptly put,
was not
—when they got right down to the marrow of it, Carol worked for Riley. Everyone who worked for Riley knew they did things Riley

s way or no way at all.


When you first brought this idea up, I told you I wouldn

t go along with it.

He dropped into the chair behind his cluttered desk.

That hasn

t changed.

She gathered her breath up in one sharp intake, as if readying to launch into another argument.

He pushed both hands back through his damp hair, not caring how much of a mess he made of his appearance. With his palms all but covering his ears, he gritted his teeth and forced out a hoarse whisper,

I don

t want to fight with you today, Carol.


I don

t want us to fight today or any day

There was a definite air of one-upmanship to her tone.

That was Carol, always taking things a little further than necessary to ensure she came out on top. He laughed without feeling amused, then pointed to the empty seat across the desk. That was as close as he intended to get to asking her to sit down and stay.

Then let

s just drop it, why don

t we?


Drop the whole case?

She remained standing.

Because if you back away from my plan now, Riley, that

s what you may be doing. You

re reluctance to pursue every avenue, to make sure we have all the advantages in this petition, could jeopardize everything.

She did not see him...not at all
. He lifted his gaze to her and simply shook his head.

Carol exhaled in that way women had of sticking home the guilt without actually having to nag or needle. That hard, purposeful sigh that made even strong men wince like they

d just sucked a lemon through a split lip.

To be fair, he realized he didn

t see Carol, either. Didn

t see her point of view in this and didn

t see how to make her understand his. Riley relaxed, as much as the situation allowed, then swiveled around to stare out the enormous, dust-and- grime-tinted picture window that framed his battered, paper- strewn desk.

Raw lumber, monstrous saws, burly men with chaws of tobacco in their jaws and words not fit for polite company overflowing their mouths—those were the things he understood. Walker and Son Sawmill had risen from a struggling operation to a top producer, from a handful of workers to nearly one hundred employees over the years. Riley had made it happen mostly with his own two hands and his own mule-headed determination. He

d done it so well that when the international companies began buying up the small operations, his could still stand and compete. And he still could if his personal circumstances didn

t dictate he change things. He

d sold his company for the same reason he had worked so hard all those years with that single-minded drive: to provide security for his family

That was all that mattered. Family. It was all that counted beyond faith and honor. Now Carol was asking him to turn his back on two of those things for the only reason he would ever even consider it.

For his child.

A dull ache gripped his chest, like his heart had clenched up into a paralyzed fist. He took a deep breath and stared out the window. As he exhaled, slowly, the pain subsided.

You know I

ve worked at this mill since I was old enough to ride my bike over after school.


Of course. Everyone in town knows that, Riley. Everyone knows how hard you and your daddy worked to keep this place going and how, after your father died, you grew it into one of the finest family-owned—


Family.

With that one, all-important word, he cut into whatever pretty speech he supposed she expected to make.

That

s what it

s all about, Carol. My family started this place and it was for them that I kept right on building it. Everything I have today, the big house, the big bank accounts, the Walker name and all it stands for...I owe to my family.


Understood.

She laid the pen and papers on the edge of his desk, where he could still see them from the corner of his eye, then reached out her hand but did not touch him.

But you have to understand, too, that family is what I

m talking about preserving.


By dredging up every humiliating mistake my sister ever made?

He turned to her. He could actually feel his pulse ticking along the tight cords of his neck as he poured his reined-in emotions into one more quiet question.

By tearing open old wounds just so you can point them
out to everyone in town and show us all how deep and ugly they truly are?

Carol took a step away


We

ve made every effort to find my sister. We

ve hired detectives and posted the proper notices in major newspapers, used every kind of social media out there. All we

ve ever gotten is just enough to know that Marcia is alive, that she holds a job from time to time, that she doesn

t stay in one place very long, and that she isn

t remotely interested in coming back to Deepwoods.


Oh, we know one more thing, Riley.


What

s that?


We know that she hasn

t come forward to renounce her parental rights to Wendy.

The kick-in-the-gut reality of that statement hung in the air between them.

Riley, she knows that

s why you

re looking for her and she isn

t cooperating with it. That won

t make things any easier in court.


But when I first talked to you about this, you said—


When you first broached the subject of legally adopting Wendy, things were very different than they are now.


Momma,

he said quietly.


You have to face the fact that when your mother fell and broke her hip last week, it changed the entire dynamic of your home life. Before she fell, your mother

s presence in your home was one of your greatest assets in showing a judge you could provide an outstanding home life for Wendy Now your mother is a liability.


Are you saying Momma

s injury could keep them from letting me adopt Wendy?


I

m saying you have to think of how it looks to a judge. You

re a workaholic man who has thus far depended on the help of his mother as primary caregiver for the child. Now his mother is incapacitated, perhaps even in need of as much or more care than the child in question.


Granted, it doesn

t sound good when you put it that way.

He dragged his calloused thumb down the length of his bristled jawline.

But I

ve also made some major changes. I sold the mill, freed up my own time to care for Wendy. I

m still looking to move out of Deepwoods to a better environment for her, still expecting to reinvest in a new company or even to start over. Won

t that help my position?


Maybe. Yes. If it were a reality. The move, the improved environment, those would help, I

m sure. But starting over? The amount of time, money, and energy that would take, not to mention the potential financial risk, would be three strikes against you, in my opinion.

She frowned.

Your priority must be to link up with an established, prospering business, like that Fulton deal provided. When you lost that, you lost out big.

He lifted his head, sharp and quick, wishing he could refute her claim—and knowing there was nothing he could say to deny the truth of it.


The way I see it, Riley, barring another drastic change in your circumstances your best hope is to show that, flawed though you may be, you are infinitely better able and willing to care for Wendy than your sister.

She put her hand to her temple, the strain of the moment etching worry lines between her plucked eyebrows.

We have to show them that they have no other real choice but to strip Marcia of her rights and grant those rights to you alone.

Riley put his head in his hands. Flawed though you may be...workaholic man...you don

t have anything lined up, lost out big time...mother incapacitated...strip Marcia of her rights. The phrases went spinning through his mind faster than he could grasp their deeper implications.


Your sister is the one who walked out on Wendy while that child was still in the hospital
bassinet.

Carol did not let him take the time to sort through his jumbled thoughts.

You and your mother have raised that little girl, provided her sole support, financially, spiritually, emotionally and...and...

She wasn

t saying a thing he didn

t already know. He narrowed his eyes and jerked his head once, quick, to the right, making his neck pop, resulting in a sound like a couple of muffled firecrackers.

She must have seen her tact failing as she suddenly cut herself off. Her whole attitude softened. She smiled and cast her eyes downward—that fine Southern belle contrivance that implied deference to a man when, in fact, manipulation was the goal.

Riley cocked his head to one side and stifled a cynical grin. No dose of Southern female charm would get to him. He

d brought up a daughter who had been born with the ability to wrap him around her finger from her very fist innocent coo. He

d watched his own sister get whatever she wanted from lovesick men with a look, a pout, and—should those fail—other things. Much as he adored the women in his family, he saw straight through their devices. That, he supposed, was one reason why he never married.

He recognized every feminine trick and felt immune to them all.

He kicked his boots up onto the corner of his desk and crossed one ankle over the other. He cared for Carol, maybe not as much as she did for him, but he did care about her feelings and opinions. It wasn

t like him to think so unkindly about anyone, least of all someone trying to help him.

All this mess...Momma

s fall, the pending adoption hearing, the harshness of Carol

s recommendation, they all colored his perception right now, he guessed. Carol

s suggestion most of all.

He glanced up to find her watching him. He sighed.

I

d have liked to have thought that you, who have been my lawyer for the last four years and my...

A glimmer of hope shone for a moment in Carol

s eyes.

It hurt Riley that he could not justify that hope with sweet romantic assurances.

You, who have been such a close friend, would have known me well enough to understand that I would never do what you

re asking. I

d liked to think you saw me as a man with more integrity, more compassion than to stoop to that level.

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