Kitabı oku: «Montana Passions», sayfa 9

Chapter Twelve

He had said she would hate him.

But she didn’t.

She felt numb, as if she were floating, as if none of this was real.

The meal still waited, his plate untouched, hers almost the same, right there beside her on the table. She probably ought to go ahead and eat.

Through the numbness, she felt a touch of nausea.

No. No food. Not now.

She rose, very slowly, her legs wobbly and uncertain. Once she was on her feet, she leaned on the table for a moment or two, getting her bearings.

When she felt more certain her legs would hold her up, she calmly cleared the table and put the food away. She rinsed the dishes and put them in the dish-washer, washed the frying pan and hung it back on the overhead rack.

Once everything was cleaned up, all evidence of the meal they should have shared out of sight, once the sink was empty and the counters wiped down, she went through the door to the foyer, the same way he had gone. There, she locked the front door.

That taken care of, she turned for the stairs. As she climbed, she felt like someone very old and stiff, doggedly dragging herself up to bed. She held on to the polished railing, taking one careful step at a time.

What had happened, the things he’d said to her—none of it made any sense.

She only knew that it was over between them. Over before it had even really gotten started.

Beneath the ugly numbness, she knew she was going to have to get over him, get over a man who’d managed to fill up her world, to change everything, in the space of six days.

She hoped the numbness lasted awhile, bleakly aware that when it faded, she would have to deal with the pain of losing him, have to somehow learn to mend her shattered heart.

At eleven-thirty the next morning, Addy showed up at her door. “I came into town to pick up a few things and I thought we might go out and grab a bite of…” She peered at Katie closer. “Darling, what’s happened? What’s the matter with you?”

Squinting against the bright morning sun, Katie put her hand up to her tangled hair. “I…” She looked down at the pajamas she was still wearing. “I…well, I slept a little late.”

Addy wasn’t buying. She stepped over the threshold and closed the door firmly behind her. Quickly, she slipped out of her coat and hung it on the rack, then turned to face Katie again. “Something bad has happened. I can see it in your eyes.” She grabbed Katie’s hand and towed her into the living room, where she sat on the sofa and pulled Katie down beside her. “Now…” She seemed unsure of how to continue. “Oh, my dear. Please. Tell me what’s happened.”

Katie hadn’t the faintest idea how to answer. She looked at the woman who’d been the mother she’d needed so much, the woman who’d come for her when she had no one else, the woman who’d been there, ever since, whenever Katie needed a listening ear or loving arms to hold her.

Katie realized she needed that now—Addy’s loving arms around her. “Oh, Addy…”

Addy reached for her with a worried cry. “Now, now. Oh, honey.”

Katie sagged into Addy’s embrace, breathing in the faint scent of Addy’s subtle perfume, feeling at least a little less numb.

Which maybe, on second thought, wasn’t such a great thing. Something loosened in her chest. Without the numbness to keep them down, she felt the sudden tears rising. “Oh, Addy…”

“It’s okay. It will be okay.”

It wouldn’t, and Katie knew it. Not for a long time. And that seemed so awful, so infinitely sad, that the tears rose high enough to burn her throat, to fill her eyes with scalding wetness. “Oh, I don’t think so…oh, Addy, it won’t. Not for a long time.”

Her shoulders started shaking as the sobs took over, deep, wrenching ones. The tears dribbled down her cheeks and kept on coming, a river of them. Addy held her, not caring the least that Katie was soaking the front of her angora sweater. She whispered comforting words as Katie sobbed for the love—for the future with Justin—that was never going to be.

Finally, Katie spoke against Addy’s warm, willing shoulder, the words fractured, broken—just like her heart. “It was…oh, Addy, I don’t know how it happened, that I ended up caring so much. It shouldn’t hurt like this, should it? It was only a few short days.”

Addy stroked her hair. “Now, now…”

With another shuddering sob, Katie pulled free so she could meet Addy’s eyes. “I—I think I love him,” she said in terrified wonder. In complete disbelief. “But that can’t be, can it? Not after so short a time, not after what happened last night—”

Addy asked the pertinent question. “Who, darling? Who do you love?”

Katie bit her lip. Suddenly she remembered: Caleb’s ski resort project. It was so important to him. And this…what had happened, well, this was strictly personal. Between her and Justin. It had nothing to do with Caleb’s business. But somehow, at that moment, she feared…

If Caleb found out how deeply Justin had wounded her, how she’d sobbed out her hurt and bewilderment in Addy’s arms, he might confront Justin. He might even decide he couldn’t allow Justin to be involved in his project.

She hadn’t any idea what would happen then—maybe nothing. Or maybe Justin would back out and everything would have to be put on hold.

She didn’t want that.

This wasn’t about that.

“Addy, you have to promise me that you won’t say a word to Caleb. I don’t want him upset over this.”

“Honey. Say a word about what?”

“You just have to promise me.”

Addy’s mouth pinched up tight. “It’s that Justin Caldwell, isn’t it?” When Katie only stared at her, she asked, outraged, “Well, who else could it be?”

Katie looked away.

Addy didn’t allow that. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, Katie did. Addy said, “It is Caldwell, isn’t it?”

Katie only shut her eyes and wilted into Addy’s arms again.

Addy held on tight. “There, there. Whatever he’s done, I can see you’re better off without him. You know that, don’t you?”

The really awful, hopeless thing was that she didn’t know it. She still didn’t know it—oh, maybe in her head, she did. But not in her shattered heart, where it mattered. Even after he’d made it perfectly clear that she’d better learn to live without him, that he wouldn’t be back, her hungry heart refused to believe it.

Somehow, though, she made herself nod against Addy’s shoulder. “Yes. I’m better off. I really am.” She pulled free of Addy’s hold again and took the tissue Addy handed her. She dried her tears and blew her nose and drew herself up straight. “He broke it off last night.”

“You grew close in the museum?”

“Oh, Addy. It was a beautiful time. I felt as if I knew him so well. It’s so hard to explain. I felt this powerful connection to him. I was so sure I’d found the right guy.”

“And then, out of nowhere last night, he told you he wouldn’t be seeing you anymore?”

“That’s right.”

“But why?”

It was the million-dollar question and Katie still had no answer to it. “He didn’t explain.”

Addy grunted in pure disgust. “Some other woman, no doubt.”

“No. I really don’t think so.”

“Then what?”

“He just said it was over.”

“But it makes no sense.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking—all I’ve been thinking. I’ve been trying to accept the fact that I’ll probably never know why he broke it off. I don’t feel very accepting, though. I really don’t.” She forced a wobbly smile. “But, Addy. You’re right. I’ll be okay. Eventually. I know I will.”

Addy gave her a game grin. “That’s the spirit.” Her grin became an angry frown. “And as for that Caldwell fellow—”

Katie interrupted. “No. Listen. What happened was strictly personal, between him and me. I shouldn’t even have told you.”

“Of course you should have,” Addy huffed. “What affects you affects the people who love you. Never forget that.” Addy sighed and took Katie’s hand again, enclosing it between the two of hers. “Sometimes, when you’re suffering terribly, it’s hard to keep from cutting yourself off from the people who matter. Promise me you won’t do that now.”

There was something in Addy’s voice, in her eyes. Something sad. And heavy with regret. Katie had to ask. “Have you done that? Cut yourself off from the ones who love you? Is that what you’re saying?”

Addy patted her hand. “Am I so obvious?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. But I know you and love you. How you feel doesn’t have to be obvious, for me to pick up on it—and it did seem to me as if you were talking about yourself just now.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Addy admitted, “Well, yes. Maybe I was. I…well, I had a tough time when Riley was born. I almost didn’t make it. And then they told me there would be no more children. I came from a big family and I always wanted, oh, ten or twelve or so of my own. I was cut to the heart by the news. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t…love my husband. Or my new baby. The doctors said it was a serious case of postpartum depression.”

“But…?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe it was the death of my most cherished dream. To have a big family, to someday be surrounded by an adorable crowd of happy grandchildren. It hurt so much to lose that dream, I lost sight of all the wonderful things I did have. It was a terrible time. I almost drove Caleb away.”

“Impossible. He loves you so much.”

“I know. But he’s a man who needs a lot of attention. You know him, full of life and energy. Always on to the next big plan. He needs a wife to help him live his dreams, a woman who’s there, right beside him, while he makes those dreams come true. After Riley was born, I was like a shadow of myself, for much too long. And a man like Caleb can’t live with a shadow for a wife. And certainly it wasn’t any good for Riley, either. He was an innocent baby, then, a baby who needed his mother’s love.”

“But you worked through it.”

“Yes. Barely. I should have reached out. But instead, I disengaged from the two people who needed me the most.” Addy smoothed a wild strand of Katie’s uncombed hair, guiding it back behind her ear. “Don’t make the same mistake yourself. Please.”

“I won’t,” Katie promised. “But I do need a little time, you know? Addy, I really cared for him. It was sudden, yes. But somehow, being sudden and shortlived doesn’t make it any less powerful.”

“I understand. I truly do. Just don’t hold it all in. Just remember that we’re here, Caleb and Riley and I, any time you need us.”

Addy stayed for lunch. As the two of them fixed sandwiches and heated up some soup, Addy asked more questions. She pressed for specifics about Justin, about what had gone wrong.

But Katie only shook her head. “It’s over, that’s all. All the little details don’t matter.” Except to me.

She couldn’t get Addy to promise not to say anything about Justin to Caleb. “Business is business,” Addy said. “But Caleb certainly has a right to know the kind of man he’s dealing with.”

Katie tried to argue that Addy didn’t really know what kind of man Justin was. “You’ve just been complaining that I haven’t told you anything. Remember that. I haven’t. I didn’t say anything against Justin, and I won’t. All you know is there was…something. And now it’s over.”

“I know that he hurt you, and that’s enough for me. Unless you’re ready to tell me a little more about what happened?”

It was too much. “Let’s just let it go for now. Please.”

Addy looked slightly put out, but she did drop the subject. They ate lunch and Addy hung around for an extra cup of hot tea and then said she had to get back to the ranch. “Come for dinner tonight. Let us cheer you up.”

“I can’t. Not tonight. I need a few days. A little time to myself, to…lick my wounds, I guess. Maybe that’s self-indulgent, but—”

“Oh, of course it’s not,” Addy cut in tartly. “You get through this however you need to. Just remember what I said before. Don’t shut us out for too long.”

“I won’t. I promise you.”

After Addy left, Katie wandered back upstairs to her bedroom. She climbed into bed and closed her eyes. Sleep wouldn’t come, so she simply lay there, wishing the numbness would return, feeling broken and much, much too sad.

Eventually, she dragged herself from bed, took a shower and forced herself to go out for a walk through Old Town. The snow lay in patches on the wet ground by then. It was hard to believe that it had been a deep, unbroken blanket of white just four days before. She waved at friends and neighbors she saw on the street and even stopped to chat with Emelda, who emerged from Super Savers Mart, the grocery store that had once been known as the Thunder Canyon Mercantile and had been owned and run by the Douglas family for generations.

“Will you look at this weather?” Emelda shifted her bag of groceries to one arm and stuck out the other in a gesture intended to include the wide, sunny sky and the melting patches of snow just beyond the covered sidewalk. “Amazing, isn’t it? Snow past my eyeballs one day, dirty patches on the bare ground in no time at all—are you all right, dear? You do look a tad under the weather, and I know you didn’t feel all that well last week.” She leaned closer to Katie and kept on talking, saving Katie the discomfort of having to answer the question about how she was feeling. “One thing I did like about that nice, deep snow pack. Kept trespassers away from that erosion hole behind my back fence.”

The hole in question was a caved-in section of tunnel from Caleb’s played out mine, the Queen of Hearts. Riley had seen to boarding it over, but some-one kept pushing the boards aside. Probably adventurous kids, Katie thought, kids wanting to holler down the hole and pitch rocks into the dark puddles of stagnant water at the bottom. Emelda worried constantly that someone was going to fall in. She’d called the Thunder Canyon police department more than once to report that she’d spotted trespassers around the hole.

“Those boards were moved again this morning,” Emelda reported with a fretful cluck of her tongue. “I hope you’ll speak to Riley about it. I worry, I do.”

What else could she say? “I’ll call Riley today.”

“Thank you, dear. It’s just that it’s so dangerous.”

Katie made a few more reassuring noises and then, at last, Emelda toddled off, headed up Pine, toward her tidy little house at the west end of State Street.

Katie walked on, trying to remember to smile and wave when folks said hi, though her mind kept tracking back to last night, to the way Justin had kissed her, so hungrily, as if he would never let her go, the way he had unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts, putting his hot mouth to them, the way his hands had stroked her, the way he’d gathered up her skirt, as if he had to touch her all over or die.

And then, not twenty minutes later, for no reason she could see, he was saying goodbye forever and walking out the door.

None of it was about you. You shouldn’t have been involved. What did that mean?

You are exactly the woman a man like me never finds…

If she was so special, then why had he left her?

I’m not who you think I am…

It made no sense. None of it.

It made no sense and it hurt.

A lot.

When she got home, she resisted the temptation to put on her pj’s again and climb back in bed. She went to the kitchen, thinking she’d try focusing on what to have for dinner.

Easily handled. She had plenty of leftovers.

But when she pulled open the refrigerator door and looked at the covered dish full of chicken, at the plastic containers with the salad and potatoes inside, the bittersweet memory of last night overwhelmed her.

She saw him at the sink, scrubbing the potatoes; at the counter, handing her the slotted spoon. She could almost hear their voices, talking of everyday things, could see his smile and the warmth and admiration in his eyes.

Swiftly, before she could feel guilty for wasting good food, she took out the covered dish and the plastic containers and emptied them into the trash.

There. Now didn’t that help a lot?

Hardly. Still, she would never eat that food and she was glad it was gone.

And there was still Riley. She’d promised Emelda she’d give him a call, though she didn’t really feel like talking to anyone right at that moment. Reluctantly, she dialed his number. His machine picked up and relief flowed through her. She left a quick message about the problem at the erosion hole and hung up. There. She’d kept her word to Emelda and she hadn’t had to listen to Riley’s dear deep voice, hadn’t been faced with the possibility he might pick up on her misery and want to know if something was bothering her.

She went upstairs early and lay in bed forever, pretending to sleep.

Sunday, Addy called after church. “We missed you at the service.”

“I just felt like staying home today.”

“Honey, now remember what we talked about. You can’t let yourself—”

“Addy. It’s only been two days.”

“I know, I know. I guess I just, well, I want to make things all better.”

Katie suppressed a sigh. “You can’t. Not right now. I’m okay. Really.” As okay as could be expected, anyway, given the circumstances.

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. I couldn’t possibly talk you into coming on out to the ranch for dinner, now could I?”

“Next Friday. How’s that?”

“And our usual lunch on Thursday.”

“Of course.”

“You call me. I mean it. If you need anything.”

“Oh, Addy. You make it sound as if I’ve got some terrible disease.”

“Sorry. Remember. I’m here.”

Katie almost chuckled. “As if I could forget.”

Addy clucked over her and urged her to take care of herself and finally said goodbye.

Katie spent a peaceful day, reading, taking a long walk, watching television in the evening. She told herself she was feeling better, and she was.

Maybe. In a way.

Monday she went to work at nine, as usual.

Lindy was waiting for her, an avid gleam in her eyes. “Katie. Wow. That Justin Caldwell…total hunk. So did you have a great time Friday night, or what?”

It hurt—that cruel knife, twisting—just to hear his name. “Yes,” she said flatly. “Great.” And it had been, until the end. “And don’t you have work to do?”

Lindy stepped back. “Well, excuse me for breathing.”

Katie knew she’d skirted the borderline of rudeness, but somehow, right then, she didn’t have it in her to smooth things over. She turned for her workstation in the center of the room.

The whole day, she did her very best to keep her mind on task. Neither Lindy nor Emelda asked if there was anything wrong with her. But she caught both of them looking at her, sideways looks of confusion and concern.

That night, at home, she tried to read, but it was no good. She didn’t have the concentration for it, not right then. So she turned on the television and stared at the changing images, hardly aware of what she was watching.

Her mind kept circling back to the central question, kept worrying at it, trying to make sense of it…

Not for another woman. She would have bet every cent she had on that. And not for her money, either.

If it had been about her money, he’d still be there, he wouldn’t have left. He’d be busy sweeping her off her feet, getting ready to propose marriage for real, paving the way at a chance for a big payoff when it came time for a divorce.

And if not for another woman, or for the money, then why?

She simply could not understand.

Why?

Chapter Thirteen

The meeting of the Thunder Canyon Ski Resort Investor Group was scheduled for ten on Tuesday morning, in the conference room at the back of the project offices on Main Street.

It was to be a strictly routine proceeding. As project manager, Caleb would sit at the head of the table and run the meeting, explaining the current status of the project to any investors who happened to show up. He would list the contractors who would supervise construction and assure everyone that the financing was in order and building would be ready to begin in May, right after the gala groundbreaking ceremonies.

Justin arrived at fifteen before the hour—which was fifteen minutes too early. When it came to dropping bombs, it was always advisable not to hang around the water cooler making casual chitchat beforehand. The wrong subject might come up. He’d have to evade or lie outright and that could lead to questions he didn’t want to answer—at least not before the crucial moment.

No. Better to be right on time, go straight to the conference room, ready to blow them all—Caleb most especially—out of their fat leather chairs.

In the lot behind the town hall, Justin parked and turned off the engine and sat behind the wheel, ready to dig into his briefcase and look busy if anyone noticed him just sitting there.

As he waited, he tried to keep his thoughts where they belonged: on the final stroke ahead. On his payback, at last.

Instead, his mind kept wandering to the one subject he had sworn to himself he would avoid.

Katie.

He stared out the windshield and saw nothing but her face: those wide amber eyes, that soft mouth, the shining brown hair.

She’d be at the library now, wouldn’t she? Standing behind that central counter, ready to help any reader who needed to know where to find a certain book. She’d be—

A tapping sound on the driver’s door window cut into his self-indulgent reverie. He turned his head.

Caleb. Damn it.

The older man swept off his big white Stetson and signaled with a jerk of his head.

No way to fake being busy now. Justin grabbed his briefcase and got out of the SUV.

“We’ve got a minute or two before the meeting,” Caleb said, without any of the back-slapping how-you-been-and-good-to-see-you routine that was his usual style. “I want a word with you.”

“What’s up?” Alarm bells jangling along every nerve, Justin tried to keep it casual, despite the cold look on Caleb’s tanned, creased face.

But even if the silver-haired wheeler-dealer had somehow found out what was up, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it now. It was, in the truest sense, a done deal. Justin had the needed proxies in his briefcase and he would make his move.

Caleb didn’t answer his question. “Let’s go inside, to my office.”

They went in the back way, Caleb ushering Justin ahead. The door to Caleb’s private office stood open and Justin led the way in.

“Have a seat.” Caleb shut the door.

Justin stayed on his feet. “Is there a problem?”

Caleb sent the white Stetson flying. It landed on a sofa in the small sitting area. He strode around Justin and pulled out the studded leather chair behind his wide inlaid desk. But he didn’t sit down. He moved in front of the chair, pressed his knuckles to the desktop and loomed toward Justin. “What’s this I hear about you breaking my little girl’s heart?”

Katie.

Damn it to hell. He should have known. “She…went to you?”

Caleb snorted. It was not a friendly sound. “Hell, no. Adele got it out of her. But it doesn’t make a damn how I know. The point is, whatever you thought you were up to with her, you’ve messed her over and I want to know why.”

Justin stared at the stranger who had fathered him. This was exactly the way it was supposed to go.

So why didn’t he feel the least bit triumphant? Why didn’t he feel righteous and eager to deal the final blow instead of fed up with this whole thing, fed up and sick at heart, an ashy taste in his mouth?

“I asked you a question.” Caleb craned farther across the big desk.

The words came to Justin, the ones he’d once imagined himself saying. He went ahead and spoke them. He had nothing else to say. “It’s interesting how concerned you are for the tender feelings of your wife’s goddaughter, when you never spared a thought for the woman who did nothing wrong but to love you—and bear your son.”

Caleb blinked. “Never spared a thought. For Addy? I don’t know what the hell you’re blathering about.”

“You’ll understand everything. I promise you. Soon enough.”

“I don’t know what you think is going on here. But I’ll tell you this. You hurt my Katie—for no damn reason that anyone can see. And I’m not going to forget it.”

Justin glanced at his Rolex. “Time for the meeting. I think we should go in.”

Prior to the formal start of the meeting, the investors milled around, exchanging greetings, while Caleb’s secretary bustled up and down the big table, carrying coffee to anyone who asked for it and bringing extra water glasses. A thick blue file imprinted with the ski resort logo of a downhill racer crouched and flying along a snowy slope waited at every seat.

Eventually, Caleb cleared his throat and suggested that everyone sit down. He settled into his seat at the head of the long table and glanced around at the investors. “Well. We have a pretty nice turnout.” There were a few empty seats, including the ones that should have been filled by Verlin Parks and Josh Levitt. Verlin and Josh had thirteen and fifteen percent of the project, respectively. With Justin’s twenty-six percent, that made a total of fifty-four. Three percent more than he needed, as a matter of fact. Caleb added, “Let’s begin.”

Up and down the table there were murmurs of agreement.

And so they began.

Caleb led them through the file. He was pleased—though he sent a hard look Justin’s way as he said it—to announce that the project was a definite go. The financing was taken care of, and the contractors lined up. Justin sat and pretended to listen. He was only waiting for the proper moment.

Waiting and wishing that he even gave a damn anymore. Longing to get up and walk out and let Caleb have his damn project.

But he didn’t get up. He would do what he’d come to do. He would make Caleb Douglas pay in the way that mattered most to him: Justin would take away control.

And wishing was an activity for fools, anyway.

He kept having to remind himself of that.

Ever since he’d met a certain amber-eyed brunette who’d made him start wishing for what he was never going to have.

Finally, it was time. Caleb asked, “Well, gentlemen. Is there any other business we need to discuss?”

And Justin said, “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. There’s the question of who’s going to manage the project.”

The room went dead silent—until Caleb boomed out, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m project manager. We’re all in agreement on that. I’m listed as manager on the limited partnership contract that everyone here has signed.”

There were murmurs and nods down the table.

Justin spoke again. “I have another man in mind. He’s got the experience. Much more so than you, Caleb.”

Beneath his deep tan, a hot flush rushed up the older man’s neck. “I have the experience. And I have everyone’s support but yours.” There were more nods and whispers of agreement. Caleb blustered on, “It’s been a given from the first that this was my baby and I would be in charge. The financing was arranged with that understanding. If anyone tries to change horses in midstream, the money could fall through.”

Justin didn’t waver. “If the current financing becomes a problem, I’ll see that we find another lender. It’s not going to be a problem. As you just spent an hour telling us, the project is in excellent shape. And as to your holding majority support…” He reached in his briefcase and pulled out the two proxies. He tossed them down on the table. “Joshua Levitt and Verlin Parks are in support of any decision I make. Here are their proxies to prove it.”

The flush had left Caleb’s face. Now he looked a little green. Justin could see in his eyes that until that moment, he hadn’t guessed that Verlin and Josh were longtime business associates of Justin’s—or that Justin had sent them in ahead to buy in for specific amounts. Caleb spoke low and furiously. “All right, Caldwell. What the hell is going on?”

Justin only shrugged. “As I said, Verlin and Josh have given me their proxies. I now speak for them. Look the proxies over. Please. You’ll see they’re in order. Between Parks, Levitt and me, we hold fifty-four percent. More than enough to choose a new project manager—according to the terms of the partnership. ”

Again, the room was pin-drop silent.

Then Darrell Smart spoke up. “Let’s have a look.” Darrell was one of Caleb’s good buddies, and legal counsel for the project. Justin shoved the proxies toward the lawyer. Smart picked them up and studied them in a silence so total, the crackling of the papers as he handled them sounded loud as gunshots.

Finally, the attorney glanced over the top of his reading glasses at Caleb. “Sorry. Looks in order to me.”

Caleb barely seemed to hear him. He was too busy glaring at Justin. Justin could read what he was thinking as if the older man had spoken aloud. Why are you doing this? What the hell does it prove?

Justin dealt the telling blow. “All right, then. I move that we put in my man as manager. Since I hold control of fifty-four percent of this partnership, what I move, goes.” He granted Caleb a frosty smile. “And since these offices are part of the project, I’ll expect you to turn them over. My man will be here next Monday, ready to get to work.”

There was some discussion—heated, but pointless. In the end, everyone conceded that Justin had the power to bring in his own manager. Caleb was finished as project head.

Finally, after sending Justin lethal looks and offering regrets to the by-then silent Caleb for the dirty trick that had been played on him, the others filed out.

Caleb remained in his chair, his gray head lowered, as the others took their leave. His left arm lay lax on the tabletop, his thick gold wedding ring gleaming in the shaft of winter sunlight that slanted in the room’s one tall, narrow window.

Finally, it was just the older man, slumped in his big chair, Justin, still seated in his, and the secretary.