She’d be crazy if she didn’t.
The Jeep Wrangler slid to a stop a few feet from the burned remains of what had once been a large barn. The fire had burned so hot, the building had caved in on itself, leaving behind a pile of mostly unrecognizable debris. To the left, a blackened foundation, a heap of cinders, and shards of broken glass were all that was left of Henry’s tack shed.
Nick popped the Jeep’s clutch and killed the engine. He would have bet anything that the old man hadn’t intended to torch his horses too. He’d been there the morning after the fire when the coroner pulled what had been left of Henry from the ashes. Nick hadn’t expected to feel anything. He was surprised that he did.
Except for the five years Nick had lived and worked in Boise, he’d resided in the same small town as his father, both of them ignoring each other. It wasn’t until he and Louie had moved their construction company to Truly that Henry decided he would finally acknowledge Nick. Gwen had just turned forty and Henry finally accepted the fact that he would never father children with her. Time had run out, and he turned his attention to his only son. By then, Nick was in his late twenties and had no interest in a reconciliation with the man who’d always refused to acknowledge him. As far as he was concerned, Henry’s sudden interest was a case of too little too late.
But Henry was determined. He made Nick persistent offers of money or property. He offered him thousands of dollars to change his name to Shaw. When Nick refused, Henry doubled the offer. Nick promptly told him to shove it.
He offered Nick a share of his businesses if Nick would act like the son Henry wanted. “Come over for dinner,” as if that would make up for a lifetime of indifference. Nick turned him down.
Eventually though, they did enter into a somewhat strained coexistence. Nick gave his father the courtesy of listening to his offers and enticements before he refused. Even now, Nick had to admit some of the offers had been pretty good, but he’d easily turned them down. Henry accused him of obstinacy, but it was more disinterest than anything else. Nick just didn’t care anymore, but even if he’d been seriously tempted, everything had a price. Nothing was free. There was always a tradeoff. Quid pro quo.
Until six months ago. In an effort to bridge the gap between them, Henry gave Nick a very generous gift, a peace offering with no strings attached. He outright deeded him Crescent Bay. “So my grandchildren will always have the best beach in Truly,” he’d said.
Nick took the gift, and within a week, submitted plans to the city to develop condominiums on the five acres of beachfront property. The preliminary plan was approved remarkably fast, before Henry knew and could raise an objection. The fact that the old man didn’t find out until after the fact was incredible luck.
Henry had been furious. But he got over it quickly because there was something Henry wanted more than anything else. He’d wanted the one thing that only Nick could give him. He’d wanted a grandchild. A direct blood descendant. Henry had money and property and prestige, but he hadn’t had time. He’d been diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer. He’d known he was going to die.
“Just pick a woman,” Henry had ordered several months ago after barging into Nick’s downtown offices. “You should be able to get someone pregnant. God knows you’ve practiced enough to get it right.”
“I’ve told you, I’ve never met a woman I’d consider marrying.”
“You don’t have to get married, for God’s sake.”
Nick wasn’t willing to produce a bastard for anyone, and he hated Henry for suggesting it to him, his bastard son, as if the consequences were unimportant.
“You’re doing this to spite me. I’ll leave you everything when I’m gone. Everything. I’ve talked to my attorney, and I’ll have to leave Gwen a little something so she won’t contest my will, but you’ll get everything else. And all you have to do is get a woman pregnant before I die. If you can’t choose someone, I’ll pick the girl for you. Someone from a good family.”
Nick had shown him the door.
The cell phone chirped on the seat next to him, but he ignored it. He hadn’t been all that surprised when he’d learned the cause of Henry’s death had been a gunshot wound to the head and not the fire. He’d known Henry was getting worse, and Nick would have done the same thing.
Sheriff Crow had been the one to tell Nick that Henry had killed himself, but very few people knew the truth. Gwen wanted it that way. Henry had gone out on his own terms, but not before he’d created one hell of a will.
Nick had figured Henry would pull something in his will, but he’d never expected Henry to place the condition on what Nick did or didn’t do with Delaney. Why her? A real bad feeling tweaked the base of his skull, and he feared he knew the answer. It sounded perverse, but he had a feeling Henry was trying to pick the mother of his grandchild.
For reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, Delaney had always spelled trouble for him. From the start. Like the time she’d been standing in front of the school bundled up in a fancy blue coat with a furry white collar, her blond hair a mass of shiny curls about her face. Her big brown eyes had looked into his, and a little smile had tilted her pink lips. His chest had grown tight and his throat closed. Then before he’d realized what he was doing, he’d picked up a snowball and nailed her in the forehead. He hadn’t known why he’d done it, but it had been the one and only time his mother took a belt to his behind. Not so much because he’d hit Delaney, but because he’d hit a girl. The next time he’d seen her at school, she’d looked like Zorro, with twin black eyes. He’d stared at her, feeling sick to his stomach and wishing he could race home and hide. He’d tried to apologize, but she’d always run away when she’d seen him coming. He guessed he didn’t blame her.
After all these years, she still had a way of getting to him. It was the way she looked at him sometimes. Like he was dirt, or worse, when she looked through him as if he didn’t even exist. It made him want to reach out and pinch her, just to hear her say ouch.
Today he hadn’t meant to hurt or provoke her. Well, not until she’d given him that “you’re scum” look. But listening to Henry’s will had provoked him. Just thinking about it pissed him off all over again. He thought about Henry and Delaney, and that real bad feeling tweaked the back of his neck once more.
Nick reached for the ignition key and headed back toward town. He had a few questions, and Max Harrison was the only person who knew the answers.
“What can I do for you?” the lawyer asked as soon as Nick was shown into a spacious office near the front of the building.
Nick didn’t waste time on idle conversation. “Is Henry’s will legal, and can I contest?”
“As I told you earlier when I read the will, it’s legal. You can waste your money on a contest.” Max gave Nick a wary look before he added, “But you won’t win.”
“Why did he do it? I have my suspicions.”
Max looked at the younger man standing in his office. There was something unpredictable and intense lurking just beneath that cool exterior. Max didn’t like Allegrezza. He didn’t like the way he’d behaved earlier. He didn’t like the disrespect he’d shown Gwen and Delaney-a man should never swear in the presence of ladies. But he’d liked Henry’s will even less. He sat in a leather chair behind his desk, and Nick sat across from him. “What are your suspicions?”
Nick leveled his wintry gaze on Max and said without reservation, “Henry wants me to get Delaney pregnant.”
Max debated whether to tell Nick the truth. He felt no love or loyalty toward his former client. Henry had been a very difficult man and had ignored his professional advice repeatedly. He’d cautioned Henry about drafting such a capricious and potentially injurious will, but Henry Shaw always had to have things his own way, and the money had been too good for Max to let his client find another lawyer. “I believe that was his intent, yes,” he answered truthfully, perhaps because he felt a little guilty for his part in it.