Shadow Mountain. Leona Karr
didn’t have to go through the sitting room with the overpowering animal heads. Danny needed time to adjust to this strange environment.
And so do I!
Their feet made a muffled sound on the bare steps as they descended the staircase to the main room. Someone had turned on a few scattered lights that played over the furniture, gloomy walls and stone fireplace. The bulbs on the ugly antler chandelier remained dark as it hung like a menacing threat overhead.
Following Stella’s instructions, Caroline turned down a dimly lit hall and, with Danny hugging her side, passed a series of doors opening into various sized rooms. She couldn’t tell what they were used for because they were all dark.
Caroline was beginning to wonder if she’d missed the right way when she heard the sound of voices and saw light spilling through double doors opening into the hall.
She tried for a composed smile when they entered the social room, as Stella had called it. Even though the decor was much the same as the main room’s—paneled walls and brown leather furniture—the warmth and lighting in the room was a sharp contrast to the rest of the lodge. The room gave off a surprising cheerfulness.
She held Danny’s tense little hand firmly as he started to pull back. She saw then he was staring at a black bear skin with an snarling, open mouth stretched out above the fireplace.
Stella immediately stood up from a chair next to a coffee table. “There you are. I was about to send someone after you. I want you to meet Wes.”
Caroline could tell she was nervous. Maybe as nervous as I am. “I’m sorry, Danny took a little nap and delayed us.”
Two men stood in front of a blazing fireplace with drinks in their hands. Which one is the Texas tycoon? Was it the overweight, round-faced fellow wearing leather trousers and a fringed jacket? The one doing all the talking and gesturing with his free hand?
The other man was taller, well-proportioned, wearing jeans and a denim shirt open at the collar and rolled up at the cuffs. A shock of brown hair with a glint of red hung low on his forehead and framed a strong, masculine face.
A slight frown creased his forehead as Stella brought Caroline across the room and introduced her. “Wes, this is Caroline Fairchild and her son, Danny. She’s the decorator,” she added as a reminder.
“Oh, yes. Pleased to meet you,” he replied politely and Caroline sensed a decided lack of enthusiasm in his manner.
“Did you kill that?” Danny demanded, thrusting a pointing finger up at the mounted bear skin.
“Nope. My grandpa killed that one.”
“Why?”
“Well, that old bear was looking around for something to eat. You can see his sharp teeth. Grandpa didn’t want him to have his dog, Shep, for dinner. My little girl says he looks mean. What do you think?”
“I don’t like him,” Danny answered flatly.
“Smart boy.” He nodded approvingly. “How old are you, Danny?”
“Six.”
“Really? What do you know? I have a little girl the same age.” He turned to Caroline. “They’re a handful, aren’t they?” She could tell he was forcing himself to be congenial so she smiled and nodded.
Obviously, he wasn’t all that pleased about having an interior decorator under foot. Something warned her that she’d better tread softly and keep her distance. If he was going to pay her the exorbitant amount Stella had promised, she couldn’t afford to antagonize him. She remembered Stella had said he had intended to be gone before she arrived. Caroline suspected that under those good looks there was probably plenty of barbed wire.
Despite Wes’s lack of enthusiasm, Stella seemed to be determined to proceed full speed ahead with the project. “We’ll be looking over the lodge and deciding where to begin—”
“Just leave my suite and the gun room alone.” His tone brooked no argument. The lines and planes in his face suggested a firm control of his thoughts and feelings. Even when he smiled his eyes held a certain glint, as if his mind were functioning on many levels. He was worth millions and his casual attire didn’t fool Caroline a bit. She suspected only a fool would judge him by outward appearances.
The robust man still standing by the fireplace chuckled as he took another drink from his glass. He must be the old friend Stella said had arrived unexpectedly. As the man’s assessing eyes traveled over her, Caroline mentally stiffened against his open appraisal. They hadn’t even met yet and she didn’t like him.
At that moment, a little girl bounded into the room, blond pigtails flapping. She was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. A red cowboy hat hung by a string down her back. When she saw Danny, she stopped short.
“Who’s that?” she demanded, scowling.
Danny’s little mouth tightened as he scowled back.
“This is Danny Fairchild, Cassie,” Stella answered quickly in a warning tone. “He’s going to be a guest at the lodge and you’ll want to make him feel welcome.”
“What if I don’t like him?”
Oh, no, thought Caroline. This could turn out to be a real nightmare.
“What’s not to like, honey?” her father asked as he motioned Cassie over to his side. “You’ve been complaining about not having anyone to go horseback-riding with you. How about it, son? Would you like to take a ride on one of Cassie’s Shetland ponies?”
As Danny’s scowl instantly faded, Caroline stiffened with sudden irritation. How dare this man make such an offer without knowing whether her son would be safe riding a horse—pony or otherwise.
Danny’s eyes were already sparkling with anticipation as he looked up at her. “Mom…?”
“We’ll see.”
“Spoken like a true mother,” quipped the man in leather trousers before Wes had a chance to say anything. As he stepped forward, he held out a pudgy hand. “Dexter Tate. Wes didn’t warn me that we were going to have feminine company or I would have shaved for the occasion.” He rubbed a growth of dark whiskers on his full cheeks and chin.
“Dexter thinks of himself as a ladies’man and we try to humor him,” Wes said with a chuckle. Dexter took a playful swipe at him and they both laughed like good friends who enjoyed ribbing each other.
Cassie had moved closer to Danny. “You want to go see my ponies?”
“Not now, Cassie,” her father said before Danny could respond. “It’s almost time for dinner.” He turned to Caroline. “I imagine it’s been a long day. Traveling is never easy.”
“Not unless you have a jet plane, helicopter and a slick foreign car,” Dexter quipped and added with pointed emphasis, “Not that Wes ever travels alone.”
“Cut it out, you two,” Stella said quickly, obviously wanting to change the conversation.
A tall, lanky youth with a tanned narrow face and longish unkempt dark hair appeared in the doorway. He was wearing cowboy boots, a Western shirt and low-slung jeans held in place by a leather belt with a huge silver and turquoise buckle.
“Come in, Shane,” Stella said with a wave of her hand.
“Cook says grub’s on. Come and get it,” he said as he ambled in with his hands in his pockets.
“Shane, that’s no way to announce dinner. I want you to meet Mrs. Fairchild. This is my seventeen-year-old son, Shane.”
“Nice to meet you,” Caroline quickly responded. “This is my son, Danny.”
Shane gave a quick bob of his head at the introductions and as if to ward off a lecture from his mother, he told Caroline, “I took your suitcases up to your rooms.”