Tory shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he intended to build a cabin for Mother…” Her voice caught when she thought of her parents and the love they had shared. As much to avoid Trask’s probing stare as anything, she began putting food onto her plate. “But that was a long time ago, when they were both young, before Mom was sick.”
“And he could never force himself to sell it?”
“No, I suppose not. He and Mom had planned to retire here, where they still could see the ranch and be involved a little when Keith took over.”
“Keith? What about you?”
She smiled sadly and pretended interest in her meal. “Oh, you know, senator. I was supposed to get married and have a dozen wonderful grandchildren for them to spoil…” Tory heard the desperation in her voice and cleared her throat before boldly meeting his gaze. “Well, things don’t always turn out the way you plan, do they?”
Trask’s jaw tightened and his eyes saddened a little. “No, I guess not. Not always.”
Trask was silent as he leaned against the tree and ate the meal that Neva had prepared. The homebaked bread, fried chicken, fresh melon salad and peach pie were a credit to any woman and Trask wondered why it was that he couldn’t leave Tory alone and take the love that Neva so willingly offered him. Maybe it was because she had been his brother’s wife, or, more honestly, maybe it was because no other woman affected him the way Tory Wilson could with one subtle glance. To distract himself from his uncomfortable thoughts, he reached into the cooler.
“Damn!”
“What?”
Trask frowned as he pulled out a thermos of iced tea. “I told Neva to pack a bottle of wine.”
Tory looked at the platters of food. “Maybe next time you should pack your own lunch. It looks like she did more than her share, especially considering how she feels about what you’re doing.” After taking the thermos from his hands, she poured them each a glass of tea.
Trask didn’t seem consoled and ignored his drink.
“We don’t need the wine,” Tory pointed out. “Maybe Neva knew that it would be best if we kept our wits about us.”
“Maybe.” Trask eyed Tory speculatively, his gaze centering on the disturbing pout of her lips. “She thinks I’ve given you enough grief as it is.”
“You have.”
Trask took off his hat and studied the brim. “You’re not about to let down a bit, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that you’re going to keep the old barriers up, all the time.”
“You’re the one intent on digging up the past; I’m just trying to keep it in perspective.”
“And have you?”
Tory’s muscles went tense. She took a swallow of her tea before answering. “I’m trying, Trask. I’m trying damned hard. Everyone I know thinks I’m crazy to go along with your plans, and I’m inclined to believe them. But I thought that if you came up here, poked around, did your duty, so to speak, that you’d drop it and the fires of gossip in Sinclair would die before another scandal engulfed us. I knew that you wouldn’t just let go of the idea that another person was involved in your brother’s death, and I also realized that if I fought you, it would just drag everything out much longer and fuel the gossip fires.”
He set his food aside and wrapped his arms around his knees while studying the intriguing angles of Tory’s face. “And that’s the only reason you came up here with me?”
“No.”
He lifted his thick brows, encouraging her to continue.
After setting her now empty plate on the top of the basket, she leaned back on her arms and stared at the countryside far below the ridge. “If by the slim chance you did find something, some clue to what had happened, I thought it might prove Dad’s innocence.”
“Oh,
Tory…” He leaned toward her and touched her cheek. “I know you don’t believe this, but if there were a way to show that Calvin had no part in the Quarter Horse swindle, or Jason’s death, don’t you think I’d be the first to do it?”
He sounded sincere and his deep blue eyes seemed to look through hers to search for her soul. God, but she wanted to believe him and trust in him again. He had been everything to her and the hand on her cheek was warm and encouraging. It conjured vivid images from a long-ago love. She had trouble finding her voice. The wind rustled restlessly through the branches overhead and Tory couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but the feel of Trask’s fingers against her skin. “I…I don’t know.” She finished the cold tea and set her glass on the ground.
“My intention wasn’t to crucify your father, only to tell my side of the story, in order that Jason’s murderers were found out and brought to justice. If Calvin wasn’t guilty, he should have stood up for himself—”
“But he didn’t; and your testimony sent him to prison.” She swallowed back the hot lump forming in her throat.