She looked around at the carved molding in the dining room and the inlaid flooring. Was this the place Jonny Blaze had been talking about?
* * *
ZANE WANDERED RESTLESSLY through the house. He hated being here nearly as much as he hated being indebted to Reilly. No doubt the old bastard was gloating. Once again he’d gotten the better of him.
He crossed to a window and stared out at the storm. The afternoon was gray and cold. He knew he didn’t have to worry about Chase. The kid would be fine. Cookie’s wagon was more than enough protection for the two of them. And in this kind of rain, the cattle weren’t likely to do much more than hunker down and endure. But he couldn’t help worrying. And thinking. The past was always close, and in this house, it threatened to overwhelm him.
Determined not to give in, he went searching for Phoebe. He found her in a back office by the kitchen. She was working on a computer.
“Hey,” he said as he entered.
She glanced up and practically beamed. “Oh, Zane, isn’t this place amazing? And you know what? Reilly has Wi-Fi. I’ve already sent off pictures of the inside. I didn’t want to get any of the exterior, what with it raining and all, but Reilly had some and I scanned those in. I even caught Jonny Blaze at home. He’s thrilled by what he’s seen so far. In fact he’s talking about making an offer, sight unseen. Is that just the best? Of course I’d have to get the deal through before I get my license revoked, but still. Reilly will get what he wants, Jonny Blaze will have his private retreat and I’ll get a commission that is...”
She sucked in a breath. “Well, I can’t do the math in my head, but it’s going to be a lot, which is so cool.”
He stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying. “Jonny Blaze?”
“You remember.”
“I sure as hell do. You can’t sell this place to some movie star.”
The words came out as a roar. Phoebe’s eyes darkened with confusion, and she slowly rose.
“What’s wrong? Zane? Are you worried he’s going to throw parties and put up a theme park or something? It won’t be like that. Jonny really respects the environment. He wants the acreage for privacy. In fact he’d probably be delighted to sell you his cattle and let them run on this land. Do cattle run? Is graze a better word?” Her expression softened. “Don’t worry, Zane. I’ve already told Jonny that there’s a strip of land he can’t have. If this deal goes through, you’ll get it back.”
“Like charity?”
“No. Of course not. It’s yours. It’s always been yours. I thought...”
“The hell you did.” He glared at her. “You can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
A voice came from behind them. “You gonna tell her, boy? Or am I?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ZANE SPUN AROUND and saw Reilly standing in the doorway. Figured the old man would show up now.
“She already knows.”
Reilly shrugged. “So what’s the big deal? We all get what we want.”
Zane couldn’t explain. What words would tell either of them that he had to earn back the land? That only through pain and suffering could he make it right. Even then—who knew if the ghosts would be happy at last?
He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. Not after all this time. The thing was, he couldn’t make himself believe it.
Reilly was going to sell the land to some movie star, and Zane would never get the chance to make things right. Sure, Phoebe would make sure he got his acreage back, but that wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t have proved anything.
“Crazy,” he muttered to himself as he stared out the window at the rain. “You’re more than crazy.”
Zane knew it to be true. His father had been dead for years. What was there to prove and make right? Were there any ghosts outside of those he’d created himself? So what did the land really mean after all this time? He’d done fine without it. Better than fine. He’d done the one thing his father had never been able to do—run the ranch at a profit.
Zane had inherited acres of land and enough debt to sink it, but he’d managed to pull off the impossible. He’d paid off every penny and now had enough in the bank to secure the future of several generations. So why wasn’t that enough? Why did he feel the coldness of his father’s disappointment breathing down his neck?
Phoebe moved close and wrapped her arms around him. He accepted the embrace for a second, then stepped back. Her dark eyes widened.
“I need to think this through,” he said. “Alone.”
He saw the pain in her expression and wished he could make it better. But how? He’d learned over and over that there was no way to fix what had been done and that forgiveness was a gift always withheld.
She swallowed. “If you change your mind, if you want to talk, you know how to find me.”
Her acceptance both awed and annoyed him. “Don’t you ever stop giving?”
She considered the question. “I don’t think I can. It’s a part of who I am.”
Of course, he thought, seeing the truth for the first time. Phoebe was light. She was bright and good and loving. Whatever the circumstances of her life, she could be proud of who she was and what she brought to this world.
And what was he? What kind of man had he become?
* * *
PHOEBE THOUGHT SHE would sleep, what with having been awake most of the previous night. But instead of drifting off like Maya had done within fifteen seconds of them turning out the lights, she’d lain on her back and stared up at the dark ceiling.