Always (10 page)

No. He had to go forward. It was a gamble, but there was no backing down now. How could he opt out of the game just because the odds had gotten larger?

And they had, because he'd never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted Elinor. Seeing her in a blinding rage had confirmed that for him. He'd seen the worst and he still liked the whole picture.

His mouth quirked into a smile as he drove down the dark, deserted country lanes. He wanted Elinor with a passion that fueled his determination. She was everything her profligate, condescending family wasn't. True and steadfast.

When she gave her love to a man, he'd never have to worry about losing it. Cole vowed he would be that man. He just wasn't quite sure how he'd pull it off.

It would have been simplest to turn the car around, go back and pound on her door . . . and kiss her senseless when she answered. It might have been worth the slap in the face he'd get. Except he didn't think she'd believe all he wanted was to cherish her for the next fifty years.

Fortunately, he wasn't the type of man to give up or to settle for less than everything he wanted. Even if she'd been wrong about his ethics, Elinor had hit the bull's-eye in calling him determined.

Somehow he had to bring the whole mess together. The plant, Oakleigh, and Elinor.

It would be easiest to finalize the purchase of Oakleigh and hold it for six months before taking possession. Then he could simply pretend he'd bought it from her anonymous bidder.

But Cole knew he wouldn't do that. He couldn't come squeaky clean now, but he'd face the music with Elinor when he had to. He couldn't build their future on a lie.

Pulling up to a stop in front of his bed and breakfast, Cole turned off the engine. He stared out the windshield blankly, assessing his options. The most important thing here was speed. If he could tie up the sale of the house and prove he was on the level with the plant, he'd have some permanency here, and then he could set about winning Elinor over.

Cole picked up his phone, punching in the number of his broker. When you paid employees as well as he did, they didn't mind getting phone calls after midnight.

The phone rang several times before a groggy voice answered.

"Brinkman."

"Yes, sir." His employee's voice became more alert.

"I want you to accept Ms. Prescott's counteroffer on the house—"

"But, but, sir," Brinkman sputtered. "I think we can get it for a lower price. If you'll just let me work on it a little longer—"

"No," Cole said. "The counteroffer is still below market value. It's a good deal."

"Yes, sir, I know," the other man agreed with a promptness that bordered on sycophancy. "But we're dealing with the granddaughter now, not the old man's servant. It's always easier to bluff women into a lower price—"

"Brinkman."

"I could just tell her that the market is down everywhere. You know, sir, the usual stuff. Point out that not many people are interested in a huge decaying house with ungodly utility bills."

"Brinkman?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Listen to me carefully. Accept her offer." Cole's fingers drummed on the steering wheel. He'd chosen Brinkman to handle this deal specifically because he didn't have any other ties to the man. When you were high profile and wanted something done in secrecy, such precautions were necessary.

But the longer he worked with the man, the less he liked Brinkman. Good credentials couldn't take the place of intelligent experience.

"Fine, sir." The other man's voice became clipped. "I'll take care of it in the morning. But I'm sure she'll want to check it out with the old man. She told me she would if we accepted."

"That's okay," Cole said. "As long as we get this thing tied up as soon as possible."

~~~********~~~

Six

Elinor drew a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on Oakleigh's heavy wooden door. She stood in the deep gallery that blocked the early-summer sun, creating a cool respite. Blocking her memories of Cole dancing her past these massive columns, Elinor made herself focus on the meeting ahead.

After two years of disregarding her presence in Bayville, her grandfather had requested to see her. She'd almost dropped the phone when Charlie called.

As she stood there waiting for her knock to be answered, she wondered what to expect. Would her grandfather finally give her some direction regarding the sale of Oakleigh? She hoped so, because she was hesitant to solve the dilemma on her own. Despite the lack of closeness in their relationship, she felt a responsibility for the old man.

On the other side of the door, she heard a bolt being drawn. The door creaked open revealing Charlie's morose, deeply lined face. Every time Elinor saw Charlie, she wondered how much attending her grandfather for forty years had contributed to the crankiness of his attendant's habitual expression.

"Come in, Miss Elinor. He's waiting." The old servant pulled back the door.

"Thank you, Charlie. How is he today?" she asked, following him across the wide hall to what had once been a front parlor.

"He's fine," Charlie replied as he always did.

The parlor doors had been thrown open this morning and the blinds drawn back at the windows. For the first time, Elinor didn't feel like she was groping her way across to her grandfather. He sat in his usual chair, but there was an alertness to his face she'd never seen.

The difference in him surprised her, and it was several seconds before she noticed Cole sitting in a chair a few feet away.

Cole watched Elinor's reaction as she met his eyes, glancing away quickly. He hadn't seen her since their argument several nights ago at her cottage. The sight of her set off a thrumming of response in him. He wanted to smooth the wariness off her face and promise her he'd make everything better, but he made no move toward her.

"Grandfather, I understood that you wanted to see me?" She hesitated.

"I do," the old man answered testily. "Sit down." He indicated an empty chair between he and Cole.

"Is there some reason why Mr. Whittier is here also?" she ventured.

Cole bit back a smile. He'd wondered the same thing ever since receiving Charlie's message that Daniel wanted him to drop by at one that afternoon.

"I can have visitors, can't I?" Daniel Prescott snapped in a rusty voice. A sly smile crept over his sunken features. "I wanted to see the millionaire for myself."

"Of course," she murmured, clearly humoring the old man's forgetfulness.

It had been several weeks since Elinor had found Cole lurking in the garden. Maybe Daniel really didn't remember meeting him before. But Cole doubted it. There was an almost amused gleam in the old man's eyes. He looked more alert today, and yet weaker.

"I want to talk to you about some things," Daniel announced in a determined voice.

"I'm glad," she assured him.

"You're not married, are you?" Daniel stated, obviously knowing that she wasn't

"No," she answered hesitantly, searching the old man's face again.

"Well, you ought to be," Daniel declared, thumping the arm of his chair with a gnarled hand. "A woman doesn't need to be alone. There are too many scalawags running around."

Catching Elinor's furtive glance in his direction, Cole couldn't resist the humor of the situation. What was Daniel up to?

"So why haven't you married?" her grandfather continued, oblivious to the byplay. "Your good-for-nothing father put you off men?"

Cole squelched a laugh as Elinor drew in a deep breath, clearly trying to hold her temper in check. Didn't Daniel have any idea how embarrassing it was for her to be questioned this way with Cole as a spectator?

"Can we talk about this some other time, Grandfather?" she requested, her voice even.

"No, we can't," Daniel said irritably. "Might not be another time."

Elinor's protest seemed to spring out automatically. "But you're obviously feeling better. We have plenty of time."

Daniel's face turned grim. "I don't know about that, but I have business to attend to." He paused for long minutes, his eyes staring off at a memory that no one else in the room could see. "This offer to buy Oakleigh ..." His voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

He leaned back in his chair, laughing soundlessly. "Things always turn out different than you think, Granddaughter." His eyes lit briefly on Cole. "People you never think you'll see again show their faces when you least expect them."

All Cole's systems went on full alert. The old scoundrel's meaning couldn't be clearer. Had he recognized Cole from the first? More importantly, had Daniel figured out who had made the offer on the house?

Laughter shook Daniel's frail body again. "Maybe it's for the best. The strongest always rise to the top."

Elinor leaned forward in her chair, obviously trying to make sense of his words.

"I always was a stubborn bastard," Daniel commented without regret. "A hard man. But I had to be. There were people all around us—the best families—who were selling out in the twenties."

His wrinkled face sneered. "They called it the Great Depression. Said we were all done in, that no one could make the land pay anymore. But I showed them. I stuck it out." He clutched the arms of his chair with clawlike fingers, his voice rising. "I had to be tough to keep it all going. Everyone was counting on me."

"It's all right, Grandfather." Elinor reached to put a soothing hand on his. "I'm sure they understood you were only doing what you had to do."

Her tender heart was clearly touched by his words. Elinor had lived with the results of Daniel's mistakes. But she didn't seem to have any difficulty extending forgiveness to the grandfather she'd never really known.

"No, they didn't," Daniel disagreed unexpectedly. "They never understood. But I had to do what I did. Even with your daddy." His fingers worried the frayed upholstery fabric.

Cole watched the play of emotion over Elinor's face. This was probably the closest Daniel would ever come to an apology for disowning his son. From everything he'd heard, Cole didn't doubt that Elinor's father got what he deserved. But she had suffered, too, from the divided family and she'd been blameless.

"Jeffrey gave me more grief than ten sons had a right to," Daniel declared, bitterness reverberating in his voice, "with his gambling and wasting money like it was water. My money, of course. He didn't earn an honest penny in his life. And he never could hold his whiskey."

The anger smoothed out of Daniel's face as he sighed deeply. "Still, he was trying to do right by your mama when he found out you were on the way. I shouldn't have kicked them out then. And I should have been nicer to your mama. She was a sourpuss of a woman, but she had her reasons, married to Jeffrey and trying to raise you." He shook his head, his eyes staring sightlessly again. "Even she couldn't save Jeffrey."

"No," Elinor agreed softly. "And she couldn't seem to let go of him, either."

Had she known her mother was pregnant with her when her parents married? Cole wondered. She didn't seem shocked.

Daniel turned to look at her. "I heard your mother died a few years ago. I'm sorry."

Elinor nodded, blinking suddenly moist eyes. "So was I. I miss her a lot."

The old man reached out then, his unsteady hand resting a moment on hers.

The silence in the room seemed deafening as she smiled waveringly at her grandfather. Cole sat silently observing their interaction. Elinor seemed to have forgotten his presence in the moment of reunion with Daniel, but the old man kept shooting him glances. What the heck was he up to?

"Grandfather," Elinor ventured when he let go of her hand and slumped back in his chair. "What do you want me to do about selling Oakleigh? The buyer has set a deadline for your answer."

"I don't give a damn about deadlines," Daniel said irascibly, his gaze stopping on Cole. "I'm too old to scare easy."

Cole stared at him. That message was loud and clear. The old man had put the clues together. He knew Cole was the buyer and he hadn't blocked the sale. The realization stunned Cole. Was Daniel just leading him on, dangling the bait before drawing it back?

"But what do you want me to do about the offer?" Elinor leaned forward. "This is your home."

"You don't know Oakleigh, do you, Elinor?" His eyes glazed over in reminiscence. "I grew up here. Played Civil War in the orchard and hide-and-seek in the attic."

"I'd have liked to grow up here," Elinor admitted.

"You could have grown up near here if your daddy would have settled down." Daniel's bitterness was back. "That boy was born looking for a pot of gold."

"Grandfather," Elinor said, "I really need to know. What do you want me to do about the house? Have you decided?"

"I'm not going to decide," the old man said abruptly. "I'm leaving it up to you. Do what you want with it. I won't be around long enough for it to matter. And I can see that both you and Oakleigh will be in good hands."

Cole frowned. Elinor and the house would be in good hands? What the hell did he mean by that?

Daniel sank back into his chair then, seeming to shrink, his thin eyelids drifting down as Elinor watched him in confusion.

Charlie came back into the room then, as if on cue. "I'll show you both to the door now, Miss Elinor."

Elinor stood on the gallery with Cole, minutes later, feeling confused and frustrated.

A sense of constraint fell on her now that they were alone. Their last meeting had been too angry, too unresolved, for her to slip again into a comfortable conversation with Cole.

You know me better than you think
, he'd said at the end of their argument. She'd thought about that statement many times in the last two days The words rang like a confession, even if his manner hadn't. Had he been romancing her to get what he wanted?

"I have no idea why he asked you to come," she said finally as they crossed the wide gallery.

"He wanted to see the millionaire." Cole laughed as if he knew some secret joke.

"You could have left," she said waspishly. "The conversation had nothing to do with you."