Proof of Innocence: Yesterday's Lies / Devil's Gambit. Lisa Jackson
Читать онлайн книгу.
hours walking the perimeter of the land, studying the soil, the trails through the woods, the fence lines where it was still intact. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Tory and if Trask found anything of interest, he kept it to himself.
“I guess Neva was right,” Trask said with a grimace.
“About what?”
“A lot of things, I suppose. But she thought coming up here would turn out to be nothing more than a wild-goose chase.”
“So now you’re willing to concede that your anonymous letter was nothing more than a prank?”
Trask pushed his hat back on his head and squinted thoughtfully up at the mountains. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I can’t imagine why.”
“So you’re not going to give it up,” Tory guessed. “The diligent hard-working earnest Senator McFadden won’t give up.”
“Enough already,” Trask said, chuckling at the sarcasm in Tory’s voice. “Why don’t we forget about the past for a while, what d’ya say?”
“Hard to do, considering the surroundings.”
“Come on,” Trask said, his anger having melted at the prospect of spending time alone with Tory now that what he had set out to do was accomplished. “I’ve got a picnic hamper that Neva packed; she’ll kill me if we don’t eat it.”
“Neva put together the basket?” Tory asked, remembering Keith’s comment to the effect that Neva was in love with Trask.
“Grudgingly,” he admitted.
“I’ll bet.”
“Nicholas and I teamed up on her though.”
“And she couldn’t resist the charms of the McFadden men.”
Trask laughed deep in his throat. “Something like that.”
“This is probably a big mistake.”
“But you’ll indulge me?”
“Sure,” she said easily. “Why not?” A million reasons why not, and she ignored all of them. The sun had just set behind the mountains and dusk had begun to shadow the foothills. An evening breeze carrying the heady scent of pine rustled through the trees.
After taking the cooler and a worn plaid blanket out of the back of the Blazer, Trask walked away from the buildings to a clearing in the trees near the edge of the ridge. From there, he and Tory were able to look down on the fields of the ranch. Cattle dotted the landscape and the lake had darkened to the mysterious purple hue of the sky.
“Bird’s-eye view,” she remarked, taking a seat near the edge of the blanket and helping Trask remove items from the cooler and arrange them on the blanket.
Trask sat next to her, leaning his back against a tree and stretching his legs in front of him. “Why did your father buy this piece of land?” he asked, while handing Tory a plate.
Tory shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he intended to build a cabin for Mother...” Her voice caught when she thought of her parents and the love they had shared. As much to avoid Trask’s probing stare as anything, she began putting food onto her plate. “But that was a long time ago, when they were both young, before Mom was sick.”
“And he could never force himself to sell it?”
“No, I suppose not. He and Mom had planned to retire here, where they still could see the ranch and be involved a little when Keith took over.”
“Keith? What about you?”
She smiled sadly and pretended interest in her meal. “Oh, you know, senator. I was supposed to get married and have a dozen wonderful grandchildren for them to spoil...” Tory heard the desperation in her voice and cleared her throat before boldly meeting his gaze. “Well, things don’t always turn out the way you plan, do they?”
Trask’s jaw tightened and his eyes saddened a little. “No, I guess not. Not always.”
Trask was silent as he leaned against the tree and ate the meal that Neva had prepared. The homebaked bread, fried chicken, fresh melon salad and peach pie were a credit to any woman and Trask wondered why it was that he couldn’t leave Tory alone and take the love that Neva so willingly offered him. Maybe it was because she had been his brother’s wife, or, more honestly, maybe it was because no other woman affected him the way Tory Wilson could with one subtle glance. To distract himself from his uncomfortable thoughts, he reached into the cooler.
“Damn!”
“What?”
Trask frowned as he pulled out a thermos of iced tea. “I told Neva to pack a bottle of wine.”
Tory looked at the platters of food. “Maybe next time you should pack your own lunch. It looks like she did more than her share, especially considering how she feels about what you’re doing.” After taking the thermos from his hands, she poured them each a glass of tea.
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.