Read Online Almost Home by Barbara Freethy - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Freethy
Tags: Contemporary
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pattern on the top of her leg.
"I think I've told you before that I don't know
anything about your father."
"I just wondered if you'd forgotten anything, if
maybe the chest reminded you of some lost conversation."
"I don't think so. Oh, hang on a second."
She waited as she heard him answering the cook's
questions about dinner. She wondered how he could stop and calmly discuss
broccoli versus peas when she'd just told him she was in
Kentucky
looking for her real father. But
then, she and Mitchell had rarely found the same topics of interest.
"All right. What did you say?" Mitchell
asked, returning to their conversation.
"I said I came to
Kentucky
to see if I could find my real
father." She paused. "I hope this doesn't upset you, my looking for
him."
"Why should it?"
"Well, it doesn't mean I care any less about you."
"Of course it doesn't."
Mitchell was being so reasonable, so objective, so
dispassionate, Katherine wanted to scream. She knew it didn't make sense, but
part of her wanted him to care, to be angry, to feel jealous of her search,
because that would mean he wanted her affection, her love, her loyalty.
"Have you found him yet?" Mitchell asked.
"Not yet."
"What about your job?"
"I'm taking a few days off."
"Well, you take all the time you need. One of the
benefits of knowing the boss."
Knowing the boss, not being
the boss's daughter. Somehow there'd always been a distinction. "Thanks, I—"
She waited as he once again conversed with someone,
Cecily perhaps, as they seemed to be discussing weekend plans, golfing and
tennis—or was it tennis and golfing?
"I have to go, Katherine," Mitchell said
abruptly. "Call us in a few days, won't you?"
"Sure. You know I love—" Her voice was cut
off by the dial tone. "Love you," she finished, hanging up the phone.
It had always been this way, her needing their love far more than they'd ever
needed hers. Well, no matter. Talking to Mitchell only made her more determined
to find her real father. Someone who couldn't possibly ignore her …
----
Chapter
5
« ^ »
H e was weak, Zach told
himself as he parked his truck across the street
from the Paradise Inn. He'd finished his business at the hardware store, and it
was almost one, past time to be getting back to the farm. But he figured as
long as he was here, he might as well check on Katherine, make sure she wasn't
suffering any side effects from yesterday's accident.
She'd told him she wasn't his responsibility, but
there was something about the proud, vulnerable light of battle in her blue
eyes, the upward tilt of her chin, that made him feel ridiculously protective.
Was he ever going to forget her face?
As he walked toward the hotel, he prayed she was
already gone. Then she'd be out of his sight, off of his conscience, and a
good, safe distance away.
A statuesque redhead dressed in a gray trench coat
that seemed completely out of place on a warm April afternoon came out the
front door of the hotel and paused to take her sunglasses out of her purse. She
slipped on the pair of skinny, gold-tipped glasses and sent him a saucy look.
"Well, hello there, Mr. Tyler. How nice to see you,"
she drawled in a voice dripping with
insincerity.
Leeanne Brooks Callaway had grown up in
Paradise
, one of four children born to Bernadine and
Benjamin Brooks, owners of the third largest stud farm in the area. Leeanne's
three brothers ran the stud farm now and were intensely competitive. Usually
they were their own worst enemy, fighting amongst themselves instead of
fighting the other farms for business.
Zach had met Leeanne a few times over the years. She
often stopped by the big house to see Claire and Harry. Claire treated Leeanne
like a daughter and had told Zach that the redhead's wild side was a cover for
a deep-buried insecurity. Zach didn't believe that for a second. He knew wild
when he saw it, and right now he was looking at it.
Leeanne was married to Jimmy Callaway, president of
the First American Bank. She had
"I think I've told you before that I don't know
anything about your father."
"I just wondered if you'd forgotten anything, if
maybe the chest reminded you of some lost conversation."
"I don't think so. Oh, hang on a second."
She waited as she heard him answering the cook's
questions about dinner. She wondered how he could stop and calmly discuss
broccoli versus peas when she'd just told him she was in
Kentucky
looking for her real father. But
then, she and Mitchell had rarely found the same topics of interest.
"All right. What did you say?" Mitchell
asked, returning to their conversation.
"I said I came to
Kentucky
to see if I could find my real
father." She paused. "I hope this doesn't upset you, my looking for
him."
"Why should it?"
"Well, it doesn't mean I care any less about you."
"Of course it doesn't."
Mitchell was being so reasonable, so objective, so
dispassionate, Katherine wanted to scream. She knew it didn't make sense, but
part of her wanted him to care, to be angry, to feel jealous of her search,
because that would mean he wanted her affection, her love, her loyalty.
"Have you found him yet?" Mitchell asked.
"Not yet."
"What about your job?"
"I'm taking a few days off."
"Well, you take all the time you need. One of the
benefits of knowing the boss."
Knowing the boss, not being
the boss's daughter. Somehow there'd always been a distinction. "Thanks, I—"
She waited as he once again conversed with someone,
Cecily perhaps, as they seemed to be discussing weekend plans, golfing and
tennis—or was it tennis and golfing?
"I have to go, Katherine," Mitchell said
abruptly. "Call us in a few days, won't you?"
"Sure. You know I love—" Her voice was cut
off by the dial tone. "Love you," she finished, hanging up the phone.
It had always been this way, her needing their love far more than they'd ever
needed hers. Well, no matter. Talking to Mitchell only made her more determined
to find her real father. Someone who couldn't possibly ignore her …
----
Chapter
5
« ^ »
H e was weak, Zach told
himself as he parked his truck across the street
from the Paradise Inn. He'd finished his business at the hardware store, and it
was almost one, past time to be getting back to the farm. But he figured as
long as he was here, he might as well check on Katherine, make sure she wasn't
suffering any side effects from yesterday's accident.
She'd told him she wasn't his responsibility, but
there was something about the proud, vulnerable light of battle in her blue
eyes, the upward tilt of her chin, that made him feel ridiculously protective.
Was he ever going to forget her face?
As he walked toward the hotel, he prayed she was
already gone. Then she'd be out of his sight, off of his conscience, and a
good, safe distance away.
A statuesque redhead dressed in a gray trench coat
that seemed completely out of place on a warm April afternoon came out the
front door of the hotel and paused to take her sunglasses out of her purse. She
slipped on the pair of skinny, gold-tipped glasses and sent him a saucy look.
"Well, hello there, Mr. Tyler. How nice to see you,"
she drawled in a voice dripping with
insincerity.
Leeanne Brooks Callaway had grown up in
Paradise
, one of four children born to Bernadine and
Benjamin Brooks, owners of the third largest stud farm in the area. Leeanne's
three brothers ran the stud farm now and were intensely competitive. Usually
they were their own worst enemy, fighting amongst themselves instead of
fighting the other farms for business.
Zach had met Leeanne a few times over the years. She
often stopped by the big house to see Claire and Harry. Claire treated Leeanne
like a daughter and had told Zach that the redhead's wild side was a cover for
a deep-buried insecurity. Zach didn't believe that for a second. He knew wild
when he saw it, and right now he was looking at it.
Leeanne was married to Jimmy Callaway, president of
the First American Bank. She had
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