Sullivan and Gabe were seated on the sofa. A leather-bound binder and a stack of computer printouts were arrayed on the low table in front of them.
“Granddad, how dare you?”
Sullivan looked up swiftly, peering at her through a pair of reading glasses. She could have sworn that he turned red.
“Lillian.”
Gabe said nothing. He took one look at her and lounged back into the corner of the sofa, one arm stretched out along the top of the cushions.
She ignored him. Her entire attention was focused on Sullivan.
“What in the world are you doing?” Her voice cracked. “No, don’t bother explaining. I know exactly what you’re doing.”
Sullivan blinked owlishly behind the spectacles. “You do?”
“It’s as obvious as those papers on the table.” She walked a few steps closer. “You’re here to try to buy off Gabe. Or maybe you want to scare him off. Which is it?”
“Now, honey,” Sullivan said in placating tones.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of a large vehicle arriving in the drive. She ignored it.
“You think he wants to marry me so that he can get his hands on a chunk of Harte, don’t you? What are you offering him to get out of my life? Or are you threatening him?”
The front door crashed open. Mitchell stormed into the house.
“Who’s threatening my grandson?” he roared. He came to a halt, brows bristling, jaw clenched, and glowered at Sullivan. “What do you think you’re doing, Harte?”
“Things aren’t quite the way they look,” Sullivan said.
“I don’t believe that for one minute,” Lillian declared. “You’ve been talking to Mom and Dad, haven’t you? They told you I was seeing Gabe and you just leaped to the conclusion that he was after me because of H.I.”
“Speaking of leaping to conclusions,” Gabe said mildly.
She glared at him. “Stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you. This is between me and Granddad.”
“And me.” Mitchell jabbed a thumb at his own chest. “Don’t forget about me. I’m involved in this thing, too.”
“Sure,” Gabe said dryly. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”
Lillian whipped her attention back to Sullivan. “I realize you feel you’re acting in my best interests. I know everyone believes that Gabe is after a piece of Harte. But that is absolute nonsense.”
All three men stared at her.
“Nonsense?” Sullivan repeated carefully.
“Yes. Nonsense.” She swept out a hand. “He would never marry for business reasons. He’s a Madison. They don’t do things like that.”
Sullivan cleared his throat. “Always heard that Gabe, here, was a different kind of Madison.”
“Not that different,” she shot back. “And what’s more, you can’t buy him off or scare him off. Madisons don’t work that way.”
“She’s right,” Mitchell said. “If Gabe wants to marry her, you won’t be able to get rid of him with money or threats.”
“Which brings up a very crucial issue,” Lillian said. “As I told Mom on the phone, Gabe has never asked me to marry him. Isn’t that correct, Gabe?”
“Correct,” Gabe said.
“What’s this?” Sullivan grabbed the handle of his cane and used it to haul himself up off the sagging sofa. He turned on Gabe with a thunderous expression. “I was under the impression that you were serious about my granddaughter. If you think I’m going to stand by while you shack up indefinitely with her, you can think again.”
“Wasn’t planning to shack up indefinitely,” Gabe said.
Mitchell beetled his brows. “Just what are you doing here, Sullivan?”
“Before we were so rudely interrupted,” Sullivan said, “I was presenting a business proposition to Gabe. Of course, that was when I was still under the impression that he intended to marry Lillian.”
Mitchell eyed him with deep suspicion. “What kind of business proposition?”
Gabe looked at Lillian. “Your grandfather was outlining the financial advantages of marriage to you. You come with one-third of H.I., you know.”
“The advantages?” Lillian stared at Sullivan. “You mean you’re trying to bribe him to marry me?”
“I just wanted him to understand that we’d be happy to have him as a member of the family,” Sullivan said mildly.
“Well, shoot and damn.” Mitchell whistled softly. “Got to hand it to you, Sullivan. Didn’t think you had that much common sense.”
Lillian was aghast. “You weren’t trying to buy him off. You’re here to try to buy him for me. This is the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.”
Sullivan stiffened. “What’s mortifying about it? I thought you wanted Gabe.”
“For heaven’s sake, Granddad. It’s like you’re offering him a dowry to take me off your hands. If he marries me and gets a chunk of H.I., everyone will say he did it for the money.”
“Which is why I turned down the deal,” Gabe replied softly.
She swung around to face him. “You did?”
“Shoot and damn.” Mitchell waved a hand. “Why did you go and do something dumb like that? You coulda had the lady and one-third of H.I. That’s what we call a win-win situation.”
“What choice did I have?” Gabe gestured toward the papers on the coffee table. “If I sign those Lillian would always wonder if I married her for her inheritance.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Lillian said quickly.
Gabe looked at her. “I appreciate your faith in me but I’m afraid I can’t accept you and one-third of H.I., too. I just finished explaining that to Sullivan.”
“What if I just give up my shares in H.I.?” she asked.
Sullivan glared at her. “I’m not about to let you walk away from your inheritance, young woman. Wouldn’t be right. I worked my tail off to build that company. I did it for you and Hannah and Nick.”
Her refusing a third of H.I. would be a terrible blow to him, she realized.
“Evidently I’m fated to be doomed by my inheritance,” she muttered.
“Depends,” Gabe said.
She looked at him, hope rising. “On what?”
“There is a way around this. If you agree to marry me and if your family insists on endowing you, so to speak, you can put your share of your Harte inheritance into a trust for any children we might have. Okay with you, Sullivan?”
Sullivan looked thoughtful. “One way to handle it, I guess.”
Joy flowed through Lillian, bringing a rainbow of colors.
“No problem,” she whispered.
Gabe got to his feet. “You’ll do it? You’ll marry me?”
Neither Mitchell nor Sullivan so much as twitched. It was, Lillian thought, as if the whole world was holding its collective breath in anticipation of her answer.
“Well, sure,” she said softly. “I mean, what else can I do after you turned down the chance to get your hands on a chunk of my family’s company? It’s such a truly Madison-style gesture. But I really don’t want you to feel that you have to do this. It’s not necessary, honest. I know you’re not a fortune-hunter.”
He gave her his slow smile, showing just a hint of teeth. “Honey, if I want Harte Investments, I’ll buy the whole damn company when your dad puts it on the market in a year or two.”
Everyone stared at him in dumbfounded silence.
Lillian met Sullivan’s eyes. He grinned. She felt the laughter bubble up inside.
“Yes, of course,” she gasped between giggles. “Why didn’t I think of that. It’s no secret that H.I. will be up for sale soon. You can buy it outright when Dad retires. No fuss, no bother, no need to get married.”
“Trust me,” Gabe said. “it would be a whole lot simpler that way.”
Mitchell grunted. “Never thought of that.”
“Probably because business is not your forte, Mitch,” Sullivan growled. “It was obvious right from the start that Gabe didn’t n
eed to marry Lillian to get his hands on Harte. All he has to do is wait a few years and do a buy-out.”
Gabe wrapped his fingers around Lillian’s wrist. “Come on, let’s go someplace where we can discuss our private affairs in private.”
He opened the porch door and led her outside into the bright afternoon light. Together they went down the path toward the rocky beach.
Neither of them spoke until they reached the bottom.
“You’re serious about this?” she said at last.
“Never been more serious in my life.” He tightened his hand around hers. “Did you mean it when you said you’d marry me?”
“Yes. But you don’t have to give up a share of Harte Investments for me. I mean, I appreciate the grand gesture but it’s not necessary. Really.”
“It’s necessary.”
“Why?”
He stopped and pulled her around to face him. “Because I’m a Madison. A Madison does things like turn down the offer of a third of a multimillion-dollar company for the woman he loves. It’s in the genes.”
The woman he loves.
“Oh, Gabe.” The brilliant colors of happiness splashed through her, effervescent and glorious. She went into his arms. “I love you so much.”
He kissed her.
Except for a few details such as the fact that they were on the beach, not on the bluffs, and she wasn’t barefoot and there was no gossamer gown, the scene was just the way it had been in the romantic fantasy she had conjured up when she had set out to meet him on the path.
Perfect.
Sullivan surveyed the seating options in Mitchell’s living room and chose the recliner that provided a view of the bay. He lowered himself into it with a long sigh and looked out at the water. The light was starting to go. He never liked this time of day.
“We came mighty close to screwing that up pretty bad, didn’t we?” he said.
“What’s with this we business?” Mitchell settled into the other well-worn recliner. “You’re the one who damn near screwed things up. What the hell did you think you were doing trying to buy Gabe with a chunk of H.I.?”
“You’re the one who told me I was supposed to fix things.”
“You don’t fix things between a Madison and a Harte with a business contract.”
“Seemed like the logical thing to do. Pretty clear that Lillian wanted him and I just wanted to encourage him to see the benefits of marriage to her.” Sullivan stretched out his legs, wincing when his joints protested. “How do you stand this damp, cold weather all year long?”
“I’m used to it. You’ve gotten soft living down there in Arizona.”
“Not soft, smart. If you had any sense you’d move to the desert, too.”
“I like it just fine here in Eclipse Bay.” Mitchell rested his head against the back of the chair. “You figure to drive back to Portland tonight?”
“Had enough driving for one day. Knees stiffen up when I sit in a car for a long period of time.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Mitchell absently rubbed one of his own knees. “Occurs to me that if you’re gonna hang around town for a while, you might as well stay here with me.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“If you stay at the cottage you’ll get in the way of Gabe’s courting.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer. Don’t want to interfere with the lovebirds.” Sullivan chuckled.
Mitchell eyed him suspiciously. “What’s so funny?”
“Just thinking about what the folks in town will say when they find out that I’m your houseguest.”
“Huh.” Sullivan grinned. “Probably figure we’ll try to knock each other’s teeth out.”
“Probably.”
“Now that’s settled, maybe I should fill you in on some of the stuff that’s been happening around here.”
Fifteen minutes later Sullivan was ready to explode. “Why the hell wasn’t I told about the break-ins? I didn’t have a clue that Lillian was in danger.”
“Take it easy. Like I just said, everything is under control. Gabe took care of Flint for you.”
“I should have been informed.”
“Gabe put the fire out before anyone realized just how big it was.” Mitchell heaved himself up out of his chair. “Bryce will have dinner ready in a while. I generally have a glass or two of something beforehand. As I recall, you used to do the same.”
“I haven’t changed.” Sullivan watched the darkness close in over the bay. “A little something at this time of day helps a man relax.”
“That it does.”
Mitchell went to a cabinet, hauled a bottle out of a cupboard and splashed whiskey into two glasses. He brought the two drinks back across the room and handed one to Sullivan without comment.
They drank their whiskeys and watched the darkness thicken outside the window.
After all these years, Sullivan thought, it was good to sit here and share the twilight with the one other person in the world who understood why this was such a bad time of day.
“They say the memories fade as you get older,” Mitchell said after a while.
“They lie.”
chapter 25
Lillian parked her car in the driveway behind Claire’s red compact, got out and walked across the graveled drive toward the porch steps. All four doors and the lid of the compact’s trunk were open wide. Two suitcases and a file box occupied the trunk.
The front door of the house banged open just as she reached out to knock. Claire lurched forward, head down, onto the porch, struggling with an oversized suitcase. She was dressed in sweats and running shoes. Her hair was anchored in a ponytail.
The loud, strident voice of a radio talk-show host holding forth on politics poured out of the doorway behind her.
“Need a hand?” Lillian asked above the hammering of the radio pundit.
Claire jolted to a stop, breathing hard. She looked up quickly, startled.
“Lil.” She let go of the suitcase. “Sorry, didn’t hear you drive up. What are you doing here?”
“You told me you were leaving town today. I came by to see if I could help with the packing.”
“Thanks.” Claire looked at the compact’s trunk and then down at the suitcase that she had angled through the doorway. “I underestimated the job. Guess I hadn’t realized how much stuff I had accumulated here in Eclipse Bay. I’m taking the essentials with me in the car. The moving-van people will be here at two o’clock for the rest.”
“Point me in the right direction.”
“I finished my office. I was just getting started on the bedroom and bath. If you want to take the kitchen, I would be forever grateful.”
“No problem.” Lillian moved through the doorway.
Claire followed her. She went to the table where the radio blared and turned off the political hot talk. The sudden silence left an uncomfortable vacuum.
“You’re a good friend,” Claire declared. “Unlike some others I could mention. You will notice how none of the other members of the team bothered to show. Turns out they all had something unexpected come up at the last minute. Why am I not surprised?”
“Claire—”
“Getting fired from a political campaign staff endows you with instant invisibility. Did you know that? Like being in the wrong crowd in high school.”
Lillian cleared her throat. “Where are the packing cartons?”
“In the laundry room off the kitchen. Help yourself.”
Lillian went toward the kitchen.
“There’s coffee on the counter,” Claire called after her. “And some croissants from Incandescent Body. You know, that bakery is one of the few things I’m going to miss about this place.”
“Understandable. It’s very good.”
Lillian went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard doors. She did a quick survey of the contents of the cabinets, getting a feel for the size of the job, and then went into the laundry room to look for boxes.
T
he small space was crowded with the usual jumble of odds and ends that tend to wind up in laundry rooms. A long shelf above the aging washer and dryer held a collection of soap, bleach, and dryer-sheet packages, together with squeeze bottles of glass cleaner and stain remover. A mop and a broom were propped in a bucket in the corner. The basket on the floor next to it was filled with rags.
A selection of empty cardboard cartons was stacked on top of the washer and dryer. She chose two and went back into the kitchen. Methodically she began emptying Claire’s cupboards.
Impulse had brought her here today. She did not know what she was looking for. She only hoped that she would know it when she saw it.
Half an hour later, the two cartons filled, she went out into the living room and down the hall to the room Claire had used as a second office. The desk and file cabinet were still there but they had been cleaned out.
Claire appeared in the hall, a box filled with bathroom items in her arms.
“Finished with the kitchen already?”
“No. I need some strapping tape.”
“On the table in the living room.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t know what I’d have done without you today.” Claire went past her toward the front door. “Next time you’re in Seattle, give me a call. I’ll take you to dinner.”
“I’ll do that.”
She waited until Claire disappeared outside and then ducked into the bedroom. The closet doors and the drawers in the chest beneath the window stood open, making a quick search easy. She examined an array of shoes first. Ignoring the high heels and pumps, she looked for a familiar pair of loafers.
They were nowhere in sight. Maybe they had already been packed. She opened one of the unsealed cartons.
Claire’s footsteps sounded on the porch. Adrenaline surged through Lillian, making her hand tremble.
This was pointless. She was wasting her time. She dropped the lid of the carton and hurried out of the bedroom. She started back along the hall.
Too late. Claire was already in the living room, looking at the strapping-tape device that rested on the coffee table. She turned and saw Lillian. A frown crossed her face.
“Didn’t you find the tape?” she asked.