A Proposal Worth Waiting For. Raye Morgan
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handed down through the family grandmothers. “Old-country charm supported by modern technology,” she declared. “We have such plans.”
“No way,” the Texan said dismissively. “You’re all aiming to go broke in the first year.”
“Oh yeah?” Frank retorted. “Then what’s your idea, cowboy? A dude ranch?”
“Hell no. I have no interest in drawing other people here. The first thing I’ll do is hire a geologist and a mining engineer and start drilling holes.”
“Holes?”
That got everyone’s attention and they all stared at him raptly.
“Sure. We would tear this place apart. I’m bettin’ on gold, lady. There was a pretty good vein that tapped out in the nineteenth century not far from here. I’m bettin’ we can track it down and...”
“Are you serious?” Marc said, frowning fiercely.
“California gold. That’s what the state is known for. There’s gotta be some somewhere. I’m bettin’ on these here hills.”
“You’re crazy,” Frank said, and four or five other voices joined in, each with a different view of the possibilities of finding gold.
“How about you, Torie?” Marge asked as the argument died down. “What do you and Carl have in mind?”
Torie tried to deflect the question. She didn’t want to get caught up in this. “You’ll have to ask Carl himself for that.”
All eyes were turned her way.
“We’re asking you,” Frank pointed out.
“Me?”
“Sure. Aren’t you involved?”
“Oh. Sure.” She cleared her throat. What the heck could she say? She had no idea what Carl would want. Everyone was waiting. She felt cornered.
But then it came to her—not Carl’s dream, but her own. It was a picture of what Shangri-La had been twenty years before when she’d been a child. She realized now how much she’d loved it, how central it had been to her universe—the core of her being—the place that had molded her identity.
“If I had this place all to myself,” she began, staring off at the moon drifting off over the ocean and leaving a trail of silver behind, “I would build a trellis along the walkway at the top of the cliff and grow wild roses all through it.”
She went on, caught up in the memories, and conjured up every detail of what the place had looked like in its glory days, when she was a child. Just bringing back those pictures made her heart sing. She smiled as she talked and wondered if this was what love felt like.
Marc grimaced as Torie began, tempted to go look for Carl while he knew she was occupied. He had to stop falling for the spell she seemed to weave so easily in his head and in his body. But he hesitated, and once she’d started talking, he was really listening to her words. Frowning, he concentrated. What she was saying sliced through him like a knife. The picture she was painting was one he recognized. It fit his childhood.
She knew this place. She’d been here before.
He looked over to see if his stepmother had noticed, but her attention was wrapped up in smiling at Jimmy. That made his stomach turn and he swore softly, shaking his head. Then he looked back at Torie.
Who the hell was she anyway?
* * *
Torie came out of her reverie and looked around. Everyone was staring at her and she felt her cheeks heating up. What had she said that seemed to have enthralled them all?
Her gaze met Marc’s. He looked as though he couldn’t believe what he’d been hearing, and then he jerked his head in a way that told her he wanted to talk to her privately. Something in the look on his face made her think she might want to comply this time.
She waited until the conversation began to buzz around the fire again. And when no one seemed to be paying any attention to her, she rose and slipped out of the firelight, meeting Marc on the walkway through the palms.
“What is it?” she said as she came up to him.
He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at her. “Who are you?” he demanded.
She drew in her breath and her pulse began to sputter. “I’m...I’m just Torie...”
“Torie who? What’s your real last name?”
She started to speak and he stopped her.
“Don’t give me that Marino nonsense. Your real last name.”
She shook her head, looking away. The masquerade hadn’t lasted very long, had it? “Listen Marc....”
“No, you listen. That little tale you spun out there by the fire was a perfect description of what this place used to look like twenty years ago. How did you know that?”
She tried to smile but his eyes weren’t friendly at all. She had a sinking feeling inside. She wasn’t very good at this deception stuff. She couldn’t possibly tell him everything, but maybe she could let a few things go.
“I used to live here,” she told him frankly.
He stared at her, shaking his head.
“It’s true. I’m Torie Sands.”
“Sands? As in...?”
She drew in a deep breath and came clean. “Jarvis Sands was my father.”
He stared at her. “The butler.”
“Yes.”
“The one who stole the Don Carlos Treasure.”
“No!” she said fiercely. “He never did. He was falsely accused.”
Marc’s head went back. “As I remember it, he went to jail....”
“He was never formally indicted and the treasure was found. He was released.” She shook her head, wishing her eyes weren’t stinging with tears. How could her emotions about that time be so close to the surface when it was so long ago? “It was all a horrible mistake.”
He was frowning, his gaze ranging over her face, studying every feature as though he could randomly rearrange them and get to the truth. “You used to live in the gatehouse.”
She nodded, holding herself together with effort.
“Your name wasn’t Torie though, was it?”
“No. It was Vicki.” She shrugged. “Actually, Victoria.”
He was looking at her in wonder. “You were the chubby little girl who used to throw things at me from the apple tree.”
“I never threw anything at you,” she replied, wishing she didn’t sound as though she were pouting. “But I was that little girl.”
“Vicki Sands.” He nodded slowly. “Sure, I see it now. That was you.” He shrugged as though hardly knowing what to think. “I can’t believe it.” His gaze sharpened. “So what are you doing here, Torie? Why did you come back?”
She searched his handsome face and considered telling him the truth. She wanted to. But was that smart? After all, what she was here for was to prove his family wrong. He wasn’t going to help her do that, was he? The best thing that could come out of this was if she could convince him to leave her alone and let her get on with it. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him hanging around.
She shrugged and looked away. “Nostalgia, I guess. I thought it would be fun to see the old place again.”
“Really.” His skeptical take on her statement was obvious. “I see.” His head tilted to the side as he considered her words. “So that’s why you went straight for the caves. It had something to do with the Don