“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Bring him, too. And hurry!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
She sat down in the hall chair, biting her lip. It had been a lie that she’d seen Natalie and Whit together, but they both looked as if they’d been kissing. And Whit hadn’t denied it. But if Mack was in love with Natalie, which was becoming a disturbing possibility, she might have caused a disaster. Despite Glenna’s persistence, Mack had never behaved as if he couldn’t live without her. But the way he watched Natalie, the way he’d held her on the dance floor, the way his gaze followed her...oh, God, let those men hurry!
It seemed like an eternity before the doorbell sounded. She went as quickly as she could to answer it.
“I want you to unlock this door,” she told the man beside the foreman.
“Can’t you use the key?” he asked, clearly hesitant.
“I don’t have the key. Mack does, and he’s locked himself in there.” She wrapped her arms over her thick bathrobe. “Please,” she said in an uncharacteristic request for help. Gone was the autocratic manner. “There’s been some...some trouble. He’s in there. He won’t answer me.”
Without a word, the locksmith took out his leather packet of tools and went to work. In short order, he had the door unlocked.
“Wait,” she said when they started to open it. “Wait here. I’ll call you if I need you.” She didn’t want to expose her brother to gossip if there was no need.
She went inside and closed the door. The sight that met her eyes was staggering. It made her shiver with guilt. Mack was lying facedown on the desk, a nearly empty whiskey bottle overturned at his hand. Mack never drank to excess; the memory of his father’s alcoholism stopped him.
She went to the door and opened it just a crack. “He’s just asleep. Thank you for your trouble. You can go.”
“Are you sure, Miss Killain?” the foreman asked.
“Yes,” she said confidently. “I’m sure.”
“Then, good night. We’ll come back if you need us.”
Both men left. Vivian curled up in the big chair beside the desk and sat there all night with her brother. For the first time in her life, she realized how self-absorbed she’d become.
In the morning, very early, he woke up. He sat, dizzy, and scowled when he saw his sister curled in her robe in the big chair by the desk. He swept back his hair and surveyed the remains of the whiskey.
“Viv?” he called roughly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing down here?”
She opened her eyes, still very sick. “I was worried about you,” she said. “You never drink.”
He held his head. “I never will again, I can promise you,” he said wryly.
She uncurled and got slowly to her feet. “Are you all right?”
His shoulder moved jerkily. “I’m fine. How about you?”
She managed a smile. “I’ll get by.”
His face locked up tight. “We were both bad judges of character,” he said.
“About what I said last night,” she began earnestly. “I ought to tell you—”
He held up a big hand, and his face was hard with distaste. “They deserve each other,” he said flatly. “You know I go around with Glenna,” he added. “I don’t want a long-term relationship, least of all with a penniless, fickle, two-timing orphan!”
She felt two inches high. She did blame Natalie, but she had a terrible feeling that Mack would never recover. It would take her a while to get over Whit’s betrayal, as well. But she felt guilty and ashamed for making matters worse.
“Maybe they couldn’t help it,” she said heavily.
“Maybe they didn’t want to,” he returned. He got to his feet. “And that’s all I’ll ever say on the matter. I don’t want to hear her name mentioned in this house ever again.”
“All right, Mack.”
He looked at the whiskey bottle with cold distaste before he dropped it into the trash can by the desk.
“Let’s get you back upstairs,” he told Viv with a smile. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
She slid her arm around his waist. “You’re my brother. I love you.”
He kissed her forehead and hugged her close. “Thanks.”
She shrugged. “We’re Killains. We’re survivors.”
“You bet we are. Come on.”
He put her back to bed and went to see about the animals in the barn. He didn’t think about the night before. And when Bob and Charles came home, nothing of what had happened was mentioned. But Vivian managed to get them alone long enough to warn them not to talk about Natalie at all in front of Mack.
“Why not?” Bob wanted to know, puzzled. “She’s like family.”
“Sure she is,” Charles emphasized. “We all love her.”
Vivian couldn’t meet their eyes. “It’s a long story. She’s done something to hurt me and Mack. We don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
They were reluctant, but she persuaded them. If she could only persuade her conscience that she was the wronged party. She couldn’t forget what Whit had said to her. Natalie had been her only best friend for years. Was it realistic that Natalie would make a play for her boyfriend? She had for Carl, all those years ago, Vivian thought bitterly, and then she remembered that Carl had only been dating Natalie for a bet. She’d known, and she hadn’t told Natalie because she was jealous of her relationship with Carl. In hindsight, she began to see how painfully unfair she’d been. Her whole life had been one of pampered security. Natalie hadn’t had the advantages Vivian had, but she’d never been envious or jealous of Vivian. Remembering that made Vivian feel even more guilty. But it was too late to undo the damage. If Whit was telling the truth, everyone would know it soon, because Natalie would be seen going around with him. Then, Vivian told herself, she’d be vindicated.
But it didn’t happen. In fact, Whit was seen with the daughter of a local contractor who had plenty of money and liked to gamble. They were the talk of
