He cleared his throat. “You were telling me about your friendship with the Cartwright family.”
“I’m here to bring my brother home. That’s my only agenda.”
“I believe you.” Partly because he wanted to. He plain liked her. She was smart, confident, and didn’t pull her punches. Plus she’d come all the way to Vegas in an effort to talk some sense into her brother, and he certainly related to that.
“Whatever feud the Daltons and the Cartwrights have going on has nothing to do with me.” She met his gaze. “I connected with Vaughn only because our families are acquainted, and so I e-mailed him to see if he had any idea what was going on with my brother.”
“Is Vaughn a friend of his?”
“I don’t think they’ve ever met. But I can tell you that Vaughn’s not happy that my brother’s hanging out with your sister. As I said, my family knows his family, and Bryce joining forces with a Dalton is seen as consorting with the enemy.”
“So why are you here with me? Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No. Vaughn understands that I need to do whatever it takes to get my brother back home. If Bryce had hooked up with any woman other than Cynthia, Vaughn would be helping me track them down. But he can’t come to the rescue when a Dalton’s involved.”
Luke sighed. “I’ll accept that. And speaking of Cynthia, I need to check the photo gallery and see if she’s swiped any other pictures.”
“Do you mind if I tag along?”
He’d assumed that she would go. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because these are your family photos. It’s personal.”
“That’s considerate of you.” He was impressed with her respect for his privacy.
“If you’re worried that I’m going to report everything to Vaughn when this is all over, I can tell you right now I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry the family lost Howlin’ at the Moon. It means a lot to them, but—”
“It also means a lot to me.”
“I can see that.”
He was still waiting for the sense of jubilation he’d expected to feel. Maybe once this business with Cynthia was over, he’d be ready to celebrate. “Come on. Let’s go see what my little sister has done to the family pictures.” He gestured toward the hallway that branched off from the living area. “First doorway on your right.”
He followed her into the gallery, which had been set up by a professional curator. A wooden bench ran down the center of the room, but that was the only furniture. The walls in the windowless room were covered with framed photographs of various sizes, some color and some black-and-white.
Each had a museum-style label underneath giving the date and occasion. He and Cynthia had their own walls, and the other two contained family groupings, pictures of his parents when they were kids, and pictures of them as a couple. Track lighting highlighted the photos without producing any reflection on the glass. His father had spent a fortune on this gallery.
Luke checked Cynthia’s wall and swore softly to himself. He’d never counted how many pictures there’d been of her, but he guessed there had been at least fifty in various sizes. Close to a third of them were now only empty frames. “She took all her recital pictures.”
Giselle walked over to Cynthia’s wall. “She went through a lot of trouble. Why not take the whole thing, frame and all?”
“Too awkward. Whatever she plans to do with those pictures, she wants to be able to transport them easily. The frames would make that tough.”
“Guess so.” Giselle wandered around the room studying the display. “Sort of ruins the family photo album concept, doesn’t it?”
“The albums still exist. They’re in a vault. But the minute my dad saw this windowless room, he came up with the idea of turning it into a family gallery.” He couldn’t imagine how upset Cynthia must be to have done this. In a way, taking pictures from here was better than pulling them out of the somewhat fragile family albums in the vault. He suddenly realized he’d grossly underestimated her passion for dancing.
“I love this one of you wearing your Mickey Mouse ears.”
He glanced over to where Giselle stood surveying all the pictures of him, a smile on that lush mouth. No wonder. He looked dorky in those ears. “Yeah, well, that was my Mickey phase. I wore that hat everywhere, including to church.” She’d been right about the personal nature of this room.
“Well, now that I know what she’s taken,” he said, “we can go back out and enjoy the view, if you want.”
“I’m enjoying this one.” She pointed to a picture of him in a football uniform. “What position did you play?”
“Quarterback.”
“Were you any good?”
He shrugged. “I guess. We took state my senior year.”
“Then I’ll bet you went to college on a football scholarship.”
“You’d win that bet, but I’d rather not dwell on—”
“Just trying to get a bead on you, Dalton. Bachelor’s? Master’s?”
“MBA.”
“I see. Football star and graduate student. Did your father dedicate another room for framed diplomas and trophies and such?”
Luke laughed and shook his head. The lady was certainly persistent. “Yes, but we’re not going in there. It’s plain embarrassing. Let’s head back to the living room and wait for dinner to arrive.”
“If you insist.” She paused on the way out. “Is that your mom when she was still performing?” She gestured to a studio shot of his mother dressed in bright red sequins and feathers. Her headdress was nearly as tall as she was.
“That was a publicity shot she had taken right before she met my dad. She’d considered going to Hollywood and trying her luck out there.”
“But instead she married your father.”
“She did, and never regretted it. He was the love of her life.”
“Cynthia looks a lot like her.”
“I know, and people tell her that. I think it’s part of the problem.” He sighed. “Enough family history.” He gestured toward the doorway. “After you.”
With one more glance at his mother’s picture, Giselle left the gallery and walked out to the living room. Once there, she turned to him. “What would you have done if the poker game had gone the other way and you’d lost this?” She spread her arms to encompass the elegant living space with its stunning view.
“I don’t know.” He’d played that scenario over in his head many times in the days leading up to the game. “I’d like to think I would have recovered and forgiven myself for being so reckless. But I don’t know if I would have. I’m grateful that it didn’t turn out that way.”
“But you allowed yourself to take that risk, knowing that it could turn into a defeat for you.”
He nodded. “No matter what happened, I wouldn’t have to spend my days looking at a Cartwright-owned property and thinking about the feud that probably killed my dad. His doctors told him to stop obsessing over Harrison Cartwright because it was bad for his heart. But he’d been betrayed by his best friend, and he never got over it. Every time I looked at that bar, I was reminded of that. So I set up the poker game.”
She gazed at the richly patterned carpet at her feet. Finally she looked up. “That’s all Cynthia wants, Luke. To have that kind of control over her destiny.”
He met her gaze and couldn’t help smiling. “You’re good, Giselle. I didn’t even see that one coming. Nice try, but the two situations are completely different.”
“I don’t agree.”
“Cynthia’s a semester away from graduation. Her brain is fine-tuned right now, in the groove. She’ll never be more ready to finish that degree than she is now. If she puts it off for a few years, I’m afraid she’ll struggle like crazy to get back up to speed academically.”