"You know?" she asked.
"That you're the Stantons' long-lost granddaughter? I just found out. Congratulations."
She looked confused. "I- What do you mean?"
"You certainly landed on your feet, didn't you? Was this why you really came to Paradise? Was the rest of it just a lie so you could worm your way into the town and see the lay of the land?"
"I came to find my father," she said, her eyes now lighting up for battle.
"And did you find him?"
"Not yet."
"Well, I'm sure you will. I'll be going. I don't want to stand in the way of this family reunion." Katherine put a hand on his arm as he moved to go past her. He shook it off.
"I'm sorry. I should have told you last night, but I couldn't find the words."
"That would have ruined all the fun, wouldn't it?" He dropped his voice down to a hush meant only for her ears. "Did it give you pleasure to sleep with a man, knowing you were about to take everything he ever wanted?"
Katherine's eyes widened. "What are you talking about? I'm not taking anything from you." She looked from Zach to Harry and then to Claire, who had entered the room with her. "Why does he think I'm taking something from him?"
Claire looked at her husband. "You didn't."
"It's hers, Claire. She's our heir. You told me so yourself. When we're both gone, she'll inherit the farm."
"I don't want the farm," Katherine said quickly.
Zach released a bitter, tortured laugh. "Sure you do. It's what you always wanted. I'll clear my things out today."
"Zach, no," Claire said imploringly. "Harry, say something."
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry said. "You're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere, at least not yet. This is all down the road, Zach. I'm only telling you now because I want you to know the truth."
"Thanks. I appreciate that. I appreciate everything you did for me. But it's time to move on. I always knew I wasn't a Stanton, even though you let me feel like one. This isn't the place for me. It's Katherine's now. She's your blood. And that's really what it's all about, isn't it?"
"Zach, wait," Katherine cried.
Zach slammed the door on her words, on the Stantons, and on the only woman he'd ever let himself love. As his father would say, It's time to move on, son, this game has been played out.
"I have to go after him," Katherine said to Claire. "He doesn't understand. He thinks I lied to him. I just didn't know how to tell him. It was all so muddled in my mind."
"Zach needs to cool down," Claire said, but her eyes reflected her worry. "I'm sure he didn't mean what he said about leaving today. Harry, tell Katherine Zach will be all right."
Harry didn't look so certain. "I don't know, Claire. I don't know anything anymore."
For the first time Katherine took a good look at her grandfather, the man who'd sent her mother fleeing halfway across the country. For some reason she'd expected him to be as strong as an oak tree. But this aging, thin man with weathered skin and sad brown eyes did not look terrifying. He did not look nearly as scary as Mitch.e.l.l, for that matter. How odd that her mother had run away from one powerful man only to tie herself up with another. Maybe she'd been seeking what she'd left behind all those years ago.
Harry regarded her with the same thoughtful perusal she was giving him. "Katherine? May I call you that?"
"Yes."
She felt awkward, not sure if she should call him Mr. Stanton or Harry or Grandfather-whether she should shake his hand or look down her nose at him or hope he'd like her.
"Why don't we all sit down?" Claire suggested. Katherine took a seat on the couch while Claire and Harry sat in the chairs by the fireplace. For a while the only sound in the room came from the ticking clock on the desk.
"I didn't realize you and Zach..." Claire didn't finish her sentence. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
Katherine felt numb. All she really wanted was a chance to talk to Zach, to try and explain why she hadn't told him about her connection with the Stantons. She hadn't deliberately lied to him, and she certainly hadn't known anything about the horse farm or the Stantons' plans to leave it to her. But even if she could catch up to Zach, she doubted he would listen. He was too angry. The cold fury in his eyes had scared the heck out of her.
"You should leave the farm to Zach, or do whatever it is you intended to do," Katherine said abruptly. "I didn't come here to mix everything up. And I don't know the first thing about horses."
"You'll learn," Harry said. "Sam can teach you. If Zach wants to go, he can go."
Harry sounded so heartless, like he didn't care that he'd just destroyed Zach's dream. For a moment Katherine caught a glimpse of the man Harry must have been when her mother had come to him with the biggest problem of her life.
"Did you say the same thing to my mother?" Katherine asked. "When she refused to give me up?"
Harry didn't even blink. "Your mother did what she wanted to do."
"Did she have a choice?"
"Did she have a choice to have a baby out of wedlock? Yes, I think she did," Harry replied.
"Perhaps it was a mistake, an accident. You didn't have to kick her out of the house."
"Katherine," Claire interrupted. "There's a lot more to the story than you know."
"I'm sure there is. I'm not sure I want to hear it."
"Your mother never wanted to hear anything either," Harry said. "She was incredibly stubborn."
"And we both know where she got that from." Claire frowned at Harry. "Don't you think we could tell Katherine some of the good things about Margaret?"
"I have work to do." Harry stood up and nodded to Katherine. "Let Sam know when you want to look around the place. He can show you the ropes. You can start out slow, learn as you go."
"I don't want to learn. I'm not sure I even like horses."
"You sound just like Margaret." Claire put a hand to her mouth and blinked back a tear. "I think she might have said those very words the day she left." She stood up and reached out a hand to her husband.
He stared at it for a moment, then took her hand within his, joining them together, a pair against one, against her. "Horses are our family business, and you're part of the family," he said.
"My mother didn't like the horses?" Katherine asked.
"Harry gave Margaret her first horse when she was five years old. She loved riding then, but Princess got sick and died a few years later, and something went out of Margaret when that happened."
"Princess?" Katherine echoed. Her mother had had a horse named Princess?
"Yes. After that, Margaret avoided the stables and spent most of her time in the garden." Claire paused. "Did she have a garden where you lived?"
"We had plants in our apartment when I was small. All over the place as I recall." Katherine felt the words choke her throat. She hadn't thought about that apartment in years. "When she married Mitch.e.l.l, he had incredible gardens behind the house and a full-time gardener to take care of them. I remember my mother walking out there every night at sunset."
"Was she happy?" Claire asked, a desperate note in her voice.
Katherine heard the yearning in Claire's voice and was helplessly touched. Whatever her reasons for letting Margaret go, Claire, at least, had loved her daughter.
"I think so," Katherine replied. "She did love California. We went to the beach all the time, and she always said the ocean made her feel peaceful, satisfied."
"That's something, I guess."
Katherine stood up. "I must go to Zach. I need to explain."
"Talk to Zach, then come back," Claire said. "I want to show you Margaret's room. I want to tell you about her."
And Katherine wanted to know, G.o.d help her. She wanted as many details as Claire did. "All right. I'll come back-for a while anyway." She looked over at Harry, who hadn't said anything, just watched her with his sharp cold eyes. "I don't know why you would want to leave your farm, your business, to me, when Zach has poured his heart, his soul, into this place."
"This farm has been in the Stanton family for four generations. You're the last of that family."
"I'm not sure I want your farm."
"And I'm not sure I want to give it to you," he said shortly. "But we both have a duty to family."
"I don't have a duty to you. I don't even know you. You kicked my mother out. I owe you nothing."
"Maybe you owe your mother something."
"If she'd wanted me to know about you, she would have told me."
"Maybe she would have-if she'd lived," Claire interjected. "Margaret had a good life here, Katherine."
"Then why didn't she ever come back?" Claire couldn't give her an answer. Neither could Harry.
"Maybe my father could answer that question," Katherine said. "Are you sure neither of you knows who he is?"
"We don't," Claire said. "If we did-"
"I would have killed him," Harry finished.
Katherine saw the cold anger in his eyes and began to understand why her mother had kept that one secret to herself.
Chapter 21.
Zach entered his house, feeling stunned. He felt like a fool for ever having thought the Stantons would leave their prize possession to him. He wasn't of their blood. Hadn't he learned by now that blood was everything? You couldn't escape the people you were tied to, no matter how hard you tried. Well, there was only one thing to do. Leave.
Zach walked into the bedroom and pulled a canvas duffel bag out of his closet and began to toss his clothes inside. He wasn't going to abandon ship totally, not until the Stantons had someone to take his place. He was too professional to leave them in the lurch after everything they'd done for him. But he didn't have to live on their land, in their house, as if he were family.
No, he'd go into Louisville and find a motel room for himself. Maybe even stay at Veronica's. What the h.e.l.l. There was no point in distancing himself from his father anymore. No point at all.
The pounding on his front door brought his head around, but he made no move to answer it. He knew who it was, and he didn't care. Katherine had lied to him. She'd slept with him knowing who she was, knowing that she was a Stanton and he was a n.o.body, knowing that she could take everything he'd ever wanted with a simple yes.
"Open up, Zach," she yelled. "I know you're in there."
Zach ignored her, intent on stuffing everything he could into his bag. He grabbed a shirt up off the bed where he'd tossed it, and the lavender scent hit him in the face, in the heart. His shirt smelled like Katherine. His bed smelled like Katherine. He couldn't get away from her. She was everywhere he breathed. d.a.m.n her.
The pounding stopped, and he sighed with relief. Good, she was gone. The next thing he heard was his lamp falling over on the floor. He rushed into the living room to see Katherine climbing through the window. Her blond hair fell about her face as she got herself stuck in the narrow frame, half in, half out.
She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Help me out here, Zach."
"Why should I?"
Katherine squirmed relentlessly against the window frame, determination etched in her eyes.
"You should have made up a list before climbing through my window," he said, refusing to weaken. "Or maybe you made a list last night. Let's see. How would it go? Pros for sleeping with Zach. Number one, great s.e.x. Number two, you can play boss and I can play farmhand."
"Stop it. That's not the way it was, and you know it," she snapped as one last wiggle got her jeans-clad b.u.t.t through the window.
He stuck his hands into his pocket, refusing to catch her. In fact, he quite enjoyed seeing her fall flat on her face.
Katherine got to her feet, her hair tangled about her face, fire in her beautiful blue eyes, and he almost weakened. Almost. Then he remembered everything he was about to lose.
"You have to listen to me," Katherine said.
"Oh, now you feel like talking," he scoffed. "How convenient. I guess there just wasn't time last night or this morning."
"I didn't know how to tell you," she said softly, putting out a hand in entreaty. "I just found out yesterday. Remember when I came to your door and you said I looked shocked? I was shocked. Claire Stanton came to me yesterday afternoon. In fact, I think your father sent her there."
Zach felt his body tighten. He should have known Jackson had had a hand in this. The old man had been angry with his interference, so he'd played the game another way, paying off Zach at the same time he'd set up Katherine and Claire.
"Claire saw my hope chest, my quilt," Katherine continued. "She said it was Margaret's. I didn't believe her, but then she showed me a photograph of Margaret, and it was my mother, Zach. Do you know how I felt? Realizing that my mother had a life she'd never told me about?"
Zach didn't want to think about how Katherine had felt. He didn't want to feel anything for her. "You always knew she had another life. Too bad it wasn't what you expected."
"I can't help being a Stanton any more than you can help being a Tyler."
"I've got packing to do." He returned to the bedroom, hoping she'd just go. Of course, she didn't. Instead she leaned against the doorjamb and watched him throw clothes into his bag. "Where are you going?"
"To the track."
"And after that?"
"Don't know."
"You can't leave. This is your home. Your life."