Revenge (18 page)

Skye couldn't stomach the lies. “I remember him for the manipulating bastard he was, Mom, while you remember him as some kind of god on earth. He was a man, Mom, and he made mistakes. A lot of mistakes. Bad ones.”

Irene opened her mouth, shut it again, then carried the empty water pitcher back to the kitchen. Setting it on the counter, she paused, her back still turned to Skye. “I guess you should know how I felt about him.”

“I think I already do.”

“Oh, no. You think I just loved him from afar, that I never told him how I felt, but you're wrong.” Staring out the window over the sink, her shoulders stiff, Irene blinked rapidly. “I guess I was a fool, too, because I did tell him how I felt.”

“Oh, Mom, no.” Skye's heart was hammering and she wanted to close her ears to her mother's confession. She didn't want to hear any of the sordid details and believed that her mother's private love life was none of her business. “You don't have to do this.”

“It's time,” Irene said, her voice trembling slightly. Skye leaned against the archway for support. “It was a mistake, I know. We were both working late, all alone in the office, and there was a rainstorm like none I've ever seen before or since. In minutes, the streets were running with water and the wind was lashing at the windows.” Irene's voice had grown soft and her shoulders sagged a little as she reminisced. “Jonah helped me to my car, carrying an umbrella for me. It got caught in the wind and turned inside out, and there we were, alone in the night, rain washing down our faces. We just stared at each other and it was like... like we were the only two people in the world.”

Skye felt a chill as cold as an arctic sea settle in her heart.

“In a second I knew he would kiss me.”

“Mom, please—”

“He did, you know. Kiss me like I've never been kissed.” Her throat clogged and she touched her lips as if she could still feel the heat of his mouth.

“Oh, God, Mom, don't—”

“I told myself that it was wrong, that he was married, but damn it, Skye, I loved him. So when he quit kissing me, I blurted it out. ‘Jonah,' I said, ‘I love you. I've loved you for years...I just can't help myself.”'

Skye wanted to drop through the floor. She could feel her mother's pain and embarrassment—hot and pulsing. It seemed to throb through the small kitchen.

“I suppose that sounds silly, but we were much younger then... you girls were still in grade school.” She swallowed hard and pressed fingertips to the corners of her eyes. “Well, Jonah told me he was flattered and kissed me again, then he helped me into my car and slammed the door. Through the open window, he told me that he'd always take care of me, that he'd provide for me, but that he respected me too much to sleep with me. I—I guess he needed me more in the office than...oh, well... Besides, he had lots of other women. Anyway, he never mentioned it again, but I got a raise and he kept good on his word, never letting me want for anything. You and I, we owe him a huge debt.” Her throat caught on the pain of being a woman rejected.

“He tried to ruin my life,” Skye said woodenly. More than ever, she viewed Jonah McKee as a fiend, allowing her mother to worship him and love him when he would never return any of that ardor.

“I know,” Irene said, turning to face her daughter and sniffing back her tears. “But you were strong, and Max, well, he seemed to survive. It didn't take him long to marry someone that his father approved of.” Irene looked up at the ceiling. “You know, when you started dating Max, I thought my prayers had been answered. I'd always liked him and I wanted the best for you. I really thought it was a match made in heaven.”

“Too bad Jonah didn't agree.”

“You were the one who wasn't going to marry Max,” Irene observed sharply. “You'd already decided. It really didn't matter what happened with Jonah. And now he's dead.” Her throat worked and again tears shimmered in her eyes. “Maybe even murdered! Some private investigator Virginia hired, a man named Stone, was here today asking questions about the business. I wonder if Jonah will ever rest in peace.”

There was a quick rap on the back door. Before Skye could answer it, the screen opened, and Dani, dressed in jeans, a work shirt, cowboy boots and matching tooled leather belt, let herself in. “So the rumor's true,” she said, slanting a grin at her older sister, then hugging her fiercely. “You did come back. I wondered when you were going to land here in Rimrock. Jeff and I had a bet. Looks like I won. I'm sorry I didn't show up sooner. We've been busy this year.” Dani smelled of horses and smoke, just as she had years before. She'd managed to build a reputable business training horses and leased a ranch near Dawson City with her husband, Jeff Stewart. They owned several prize quarter horses as well as some rodeo stock. “Oh, jeez,” she added, apparently noticing Skye's pallor and her mother's glistening eyes. “What's going on here?”

“It's nothing...old business,” Irene said and turned back to the counter to dry the pitcher. Dani's eyes met Skye's beseeching her silently for the truth, but Skye shook her head. There was no reason to prolong this conversation any longer. It would only add to the pain and there seemed to be enough of that around to last a lifetime... probably several lifetimes.

“Why did you think I'd be back?” Skye asked Dani, as their mother cleared her throat. “Didn't you know I had offers from some of the most famous medical centers all over the world?”

“Sure you did.” Dani opened the refrigerator, spied a can of cola and yanked it out. She held up the can as an offering. “Anyone else?”

“Not for me,” Skye said and Irene shook her head.

“God, I'm thirsty.” Dani popped the top, then took a long swallow. Her brow was furrowed, and Skye knew that once they were alone, Dani would demand answers, but for now she dropped the subject. “I always figured it was inevitable that you'd come back here or somewhere close by,” Dani said. “You don't strike me as a big-city girl.”

“I lived in a city for seven years—all through school and residency. I liked it.”

“But you wouldn't want to settle down there, raise a family...” Dani's voice trailed off when she realized what she'd said. “I just meant—”

“I know.” Skye refused to give in to the old pain. At one time, she'd been jealous of Dani who'd been fertile and borne a child she couldn't care for—a baby she'd had to give up. But that had been years ago, before Skye had realized her own dreams of practicing medicine.

Dani, coloring, reached into her purse, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and catching the warning glare from her mother, frowned and shoved the pack back into her fringed bag. “So what's it like being a doctor? Big bucks, a country club membership and dozens of handsome, rich, eligible bachelors all wanting to take you out, right?”

“Exactly,” Skye agreed. “But you forgot about school debt, the mortgage, long hours and sick patients.”

“Give me horses any day of the week. They're easier to deal with.”

“Amen,” Skye agreed and together she and her sister jollied Irene out of her bad mood. Skye tried to ignore her anger with her mother over the old letters. Too much time had passed to give in to the fury and hot injustice that had taken hold inside her. Despite everything, Skye believed that her mother had always done what she thought best for her daughters. And now, years later, Irene Donahue wasn't in the best of health. It would do no one any good to hang on to her anger. Forcing herself, she let it go.

By unspoken agreement, the name of Jonah McKee was left out of the rest of the conversation, though Dani did bring up a related topic. “Guess who I'm giving riding lessons to?” she asked with a cynical smile.

“I couldn't.” .

“No?” Dani rolled her eyes. “Hillary McKee. Can you believe it?”

Skye felt a tiny jab of pain in her stomach. “Hillary?”

“Mmm. Imagine that. Me working for a McKee again. It's the first time since I tried to break that stubborn colt for Casey years ago.”

“I, uh, I thought you and Casey were friends.”

Dani shrugged. “She's okay. But I'm still not crazy about her brothers.”

“They're good people,” Irene said. “Every one of them.”

“Well, you know me, I never could pass up a chance at getting some of the McKee money. Besides, now that the old man's gone, it's easier to work over there.”

“Dani!” Irene exclaimed.

“It's true.”

“So...how's it going with Hillary?” Skye asked, eager for any bit of information on Max and his imp of a daughter.

Dani snorted. “That kid's a pistol. She wants to start with a flat-out gallop, and then maybe she'll consider letting the horse walk or trot.” She hesitated a minute, then added, “You know I've never been a fan of Max McKee, but I'll say this about him—he loves that kid. Would spoil her rotten if he could.” She looked away suddenly and her throat worked. “It's refreshing to see a man who cares for his children.”

Skye knew Dani was thinking of her own child, the one she'd given up years before. To this day, Dani had never told a soul the name of the baby's father. She hadn't had a boyfriend at the time she'd gotten pregnant, and any time she was asked about the man, she clammed up, refusing to talk for hours. The subject was better left alone. “What does Colleen think about the lessons?” Skye asked, her heart wrenching a little to think that another woman had become Max's wife.

“She's busy with those twins of hers. Talk about brats! Jeez, they're a handful. And she's not crazy about Hillary taking up the reins. Even though she grew up on a ranch, Colleen's avoided horses, and anything to do with them, like the plague. Her brother nearly broke his neck in a bad fall when he was about twelve and she's always worried that something will happen to Hillary.” Dani finger combed her reddish curls. “It's Max who just can't say no to his daughter, and right now that kid's determined to become a trick rider.”

“Trick rider?”

“That's what she says. She knows I did some of that kind of stuff a long time ago and she's heard that Jenner was in the rodeo, so she's decided to be either a rodeo queen or a bride when she grows up.”

Skye inwardly groaned. She'd heard about Hillary's ambitions before. Somehow she turned the conversation away from Max and his daughter.

Hours later, when Skye left her mother's cottage, she was completely wrung out. Thoughts of Max, Hillary, Colleen and Jonah jumbled in her mind and her emotions ranged from rage to worry. Could she blame her mother for trusting Jonah, the man she loved? Whether Skye wanted to believe it or not, Irene was right; Skye couldn't have married Max seven years ago. And if she had, there would be no Hillary. So why did she feel so betrayed?

She nosed her Mustang into the street and passed by her apartment house. It looked cold and gloomy and Max's truck was nowhere in sight. She turned the wheel and headed into the driveway, when she started having second thoughts. What better time to deal with Max than right now? After last night, they were involved in a relationship whether or not either of them wanted to be. It was time to set some ground rules.

 

Max slammed the receiver back onto the phone and swore roundly. Where the hell was she? He'd stopped by the clinic earlier, but it was already closed. Impatiently he'd waited at Skye's house for half an hour and felt like an intruder while that damned cat of hers had skulked in the bushes, glaring at him with unblinking green eyes. When Skye hadn't appeared, Max had driven to the Rocking M, checked in with Chester who was still arguing the merits of a new tractor and had finally wound up here, in his own house. Alone.

So what was she doing? Jealousy took a stranglehold on his heart and he laughed at himself. God, he was a fool.

The canceled check burned a hole in his pocket. Twenty-five thousand dollars. Payoff money. He ground his teeth in frustration and wanted to kick at something—anything. Judas that she was, she'd taken the money and turned her back on him.

When he thought of how much he'd loved her, how he'd planned to live the rest of his life with her, how he'd hoped to marry her and father her children, he burned deep inside with a rage that demanded to be unleashed.

So what are you going to do now?
his nagging mind taunted. All day long, memories of making love to her had crept through his brain, weaving through his thoughts and bringing a smile to his lips. She'd been so vibrant and willing and warm. Then he'd found the check, and by all rights she should disgust him. The thought of making love to her should be repulsive. He should never want to see her again.

But his foolish heart wouldn't listen. Even now he could picture her lying beneath him, her hazel eyes dark with desire, her chest rising and falling in rapid tempo, her skin covered with a sheen of perspiration.

“Damn it all to hell,” he growled, dialing her number again and waiting, only to hear her machine answer. “Damn it all to goddamned hell!”

Atlas, lying on the braided rug under the kitchen table, thumped his tail against the floor just as the sound of a car's engine roared through the open window. Tires crunched on the gravel of his private lane. Atlas bounced to his feet and began sending up an alarm as headlights flashed in the night.

Max's teeth ground as he saw the Mustang roll up the driveway. Atlas was barking out of his mind.

“Quiet!” Max ordered as he opened the door. The dog streaked through. “Well, speak of the devil,” he said, walking onto the porch and watching Skye stretch out of her old car.