Out of Exile. Carla CassidyЧитать онлайн книгу.
was a good time to mention the fact that Aunt Clara’s intentions were not just for a visit, but rather for something more permanent.
But she got no opportunity as Aunt Clara joined them in the kitchen at that moment. She filled the air with cheerful prattle, making any meaningful conversation between Matthew and Lilly impossible.
Although it had been years since Lilly had been here, she knew her aunt had come to the ranch seven months ago when her brother and Matthew’s father, Adam, had passed away. She also knew her aunt had stayed in touch through sporadic letters from Matthew’s sister, Johnna.
Dinner was an awkward affair, and Lilly got the distinct impression that Matthew wasn’t exactly thrilled by their impromptu appearance here.
Although he was courteous, it seemed a courtesy offered with a touch of reluctance. The shadows in his eyes that she’d once found fascinating now seemed even more deep and forbidding. She wondered what had happened in his life in the years since she’d last visited that had so deepened those shadows?
Not my problem, she reminded herself. But what made her slightly uncomfortable was that she had seen those same kinds of shadows in another’s eyes not so long ago. And those shadows had led to a tragedy of mammoth proportions.
In that particular instance, Lilly had allowed herself to get too close, had allowed her natural defenses to drop, and the end result had been devastating.
She didn’t intend to allow anyone that close again. All she wanted from Matthew Delaney was the assurance that Aunt Clara, the woman Lilly loved more than anyone in the world, could have a home here. Then Lilly would return to her life and cherish the memories of a boy who’d been kind to her when she’d desperately needed kindness.
Lilliana. Lilly.
Matthew took a pitchfork and arranged a bed of fresh hay in one of the horse stalls. The last person he’d expected to see here was Lilliana Winstead. He hadn’t thought about her for years, but there had been a time when he’d hardly been able to think of anything else.
Although he’d never had much use for his aunt Clara, the summer of his sixteenth year she’d brought her newly adopted daughter, Lilliana, here for a visit.
Those trips they’d made annually for three summers had been both eagerly anticipated and equally dreaded by Matthew, who would always be assigned the task of entertaining Lilly.
Spending endless hours with the beautiful Lilly had been a pleasure the likes of which Matthew had never known. Not only had her prettiness attracted him, but she’d had an infectious laugh, a sparkle in her eyes and an insatiable curiosity that had absolutely bewitched him.
“You show her a good time, boy, and keep her out of trouble,” Adam Delaney would say to his son on the first day of their visit. “You make me proud or I swear I’ll make you sorry.”
Matthew shoved away the memory of his old man’s words, but there was no way to push aside the anger that stirred inside him. It was a familiar anger, one that had become like a loyal friend because it was always there just under the surface.
He spread the last of the new hay, trying not to feel guilty about how quickly he’d left the table after dinner. Aunt Clara had indicated that she would do the cleanup, and Matthew had taken the opportunity to escape to the stables.
Seeing Lilly again had stirred myriad emotions and he felt as if he needed some time alone to put it all in the proper perspective.
He’d been looking forward to this time when the ranch would be dark, when there would be no guests demanding attention. No bitching, no whining, just peace and quiet, that’s what he’d been looking for.
He needed time alone to figure out where he was headed, where the Delaney Dude Ranch was headed.
But in those summers when Lilly and Aunt Clara had visited, the one thing that had been conspicuously absent was peace and quiet.
“Hi.”
He tightened his grip on the pitchfork as her low, melodic voice interrupted his thoughts. She stood just outside the stall where he’d been working.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Matthew, but I really need to talk to you.” It was obvious she’d showered and changed clothes before coming in search of him. Gone was the wrinkled blue dress she’d been wearing, and in its place was a blue T-shirt and a pair of almost shockingly short shorts.
“Talk to me about what?” He leaned the pitchfork against the wall, then left the stall. As he stepped out, he could smell her, a fresh clean floral scent that eddied in the air. It was a scent that rang the chords of distant memories. He thought she’d worn the same fragrance years ago.
“About Aunt Clara.”
Matthew frowned. “What about her?”
Lilly leaned back against the stable wall. The brevity of her shorts now gloriously displayed the legs that had been hidden beneath the long skirt earlier. Those legs looked just as silky, just as shapely as they had looked years ago.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this,” she said, hedging.
A burst of irritation swept through Matthew at the realization that even after all the years that had passed, and all the beatings he’d endured because of her, he felt a stir of desire for her. “Just spit it out,” he exclaimed. “I don’t remember you ever having a problem verbalizing in the past.”
Her eyes, eyes the color of cornflowers, widened at the sharpness of his tone. “She’s lost everything—her house, her savings…all of her assets—through a series of bad investments.”
“And so she’s come here hoping we’ll default on the terms of my father’s will and she’ll inherit the place?” he asked tersely.
“I know all about the terms of the will, that your father set it up so you all have to work here for a year before the ranch officially becomes yours. And I know if any one of you defaults on the conditions, the ranch goes to Aunt Clara.”
She took a step toward him and placed her hand on his forearm. He suddenly remembered that about her, that she’d been a toucher. “She doesn’t want the ranch, Matthew. All she wants is a home here with the rest of her family.”
What family? Matthew wanted to ask. The Delaneys had never been a family. They had been four children trapped in a life with a brutal dictator, four siblings who’d been isolated by fear and distrust. But Matthew didn’t talk about such things. He never talked about it.
“Why doesn’t she move in with you?” he asked, then realizing how cold he sounded, he hurriedly continued, “I mean, you’re certainly much closer to her than any of my brothers and sister have been over the years.”
She nodded, the gesture giving her thick, dark hair a sensual sway. “I told her I’d get a bigger apartment, that she was more than welcome to move in with me, but she insisted she wants to be here.”
He fought the sigh of resignation that rose in his throat. “Then I guess she’s going to be here.”
Lilly offered him a wide smile that lit every feature on her face. He felt the warmth of that smile burrow deep in the pit of his stomach. “Thanks, Matthew. More than anything, I want her to be happy.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did you really think I’d send her away?”
She grabbed a strand of her midnight hair and twirled it around her finger. “To be honest I didn’t know what to expect. We haven’t exactly stayed in touch, and I wasn’t sure how you might react.”
She was right. Many years had passed since they’d spoken or had any contact. She had no idea what kind of man he’d become, just as he had little idea of the woman she’d become.
“How long are you going to be here?” he asked. “Hasn’t school started in Dallas?” The last thing he’d heard was that she was a high school counselor.
“Yes,