Беседы о музыке с Сэйдзи Одзавой. Харуки Мураками

sarcasm in his tone only made the sense of insult deeper. She met his gaze squarely. On this, she could be completely honest. And she would keep being honest until people believed her. “I would have tried.”

      “Is that right?”

      “Yes, it is,” she snapped, and had the satisfaction of seeing surprise flicker in his eyes. “Whatever you might think of me, I’m very good at my job. And I don’t ordinarily receive gifts from my patients.”

      “Really?” He snorted. “You consider three million dollars a gift?”

      “What it represents was the gift,” she countered, then stopped herself. She didn’t owe him an explanation and if she tried, he probably wouldn’t accept it.

      His features looked as if they’d been carved from marble. There was no emotion there, nothing to soften the harsh gaze that seemed to bore right through her as if he were trying to read everything she was.

      Colleen fought past the temper still bubbling into a froth in the pit of her stomach and tried to remember that people grieved in different ways. He’d lost a father he’d been estranged from. There had to be conflicting emotions roiling inside him and maybe it was easier for Sage to lash out at a stranger than to deal with what he must be feeling at the moment. Though she knew from her many long talks with J.D. that he and his oldest son weren’t close, Sage was clearly still dealing with a loss he hadn’t been prepared for. That was bound to hit him hard and it was scarcely surprising that he wasn’t acting rationally at the moment.

      With that thought in mind, the tension inside her drained away. “You don’t know me, so I can understand how you might feel that way. But what J.D. did was as big a shock to me as it was to you.”

      A long second or two ticked past as he watched her through those deep blue eyes of his. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking, but his features gave her no clue at all. Seconds ticked past as the wind blew, the sky grew darker and the silence between them stretched taut. Finally, he straightened up and away from the car, shoved both hands into his pockets and allowed, “Maybe I was a little harsh.”

      She gave him a tentative smile that wasn’t returned. Despite his words, he wasn’t really bending. Sighing, she said, “A little. But it’s understandable, considering what you’re going through. I mean...I understand.”

      “Do you?” Still watching her, though the ice in his eyes had melted a bit.

      “When my father died,” she said, sliding back into her own memories, “it was horrible, despite the fact that we knew for months that it was coming. Even when death is expected, it’s somehow a surprise when it actually happens. It’s as if the universe has played a dirty trick on you. I was so angry, so sorry to lose him—I needed someone to blame.” She paused and met his gaze. “We all do.”

      He snorted. “A nurse and a psychologist?”

      She flushed. “No, I just meant...”

      “I know what you meant,” he said shortly, effectively shutting her down before she could offer more sympathy he clearly didn’t want.

      And just like that, the ice was back in his eyes. Then he glanced over his shoulder, noted that his family was walking out of the office building behind them and turned back to her. “I have to go.”

      She looked to where Marlene and Angelica were holding onto each other while Chance, Dylan and Evan squared off, obviously arguing. “Of course.”

      “But I’d like to talk to you again,” he said, catching her by surprise.

      “Sure, I—”

      “About J.D.,” he added.

      A tiny flicker of something lovely disappeared in a wash of sympathy. Of course he wanted to talk to her about his father. He wanted to hear from the woman who had spent the most time with him in his last several months. Ridiculous to have ever thought that he might be interested in her. Sage Lassiter dated women who were socialites or celebrities. Why on earth would he ever be attracted to a private nurse who didn’t even own a bottle of nail polish?

      “Sure,” she said, giving him another smile that went unreturned. “Anytime.”

      He nodded, then turned and strode across the parking lot toward his family.

      Alone in the quickening wind, Colleen threw one look up at the sky and realized that a storm was coming.

      * * *

      “What was he thinking?” Dylan took a sip of his beer and set the bottle back onto the table. “Cutting Angie out like that? Dad had been grooming her for years to take over Lassiter Media.”

      They were at a small bar on the edge of the city. Marlene had taken Angelica off for a spa day, hoping to relax her. Evan had gone back to the office and Chance was at the ranch. Left to their own devices, Sage and Dylan had opted for drinks, and the chance to talk things over, just the two of them.

      The customers here were locals, mostly cowboys, ranch hands and a few cops and firemen. It was a comfortable place that didn’t bother trying to be trendy. The owner didn’t care about attracting tourists. He just wanted to keep his regulars happy.

      So the music was loud and country, blasting from a jukebox that was older than Sage. The floorboards were scarred from wooden chairs scraping across them for the past fifty years. The bar top gleamed and the rows of bottles behind the bar were reflected in a mirror that also displayed the image of the TV playing on the opposite wall. People came here to have a quiet drink. They weren’t looking to pose for pictures or listen to tourists talking excitedly about “the Old West.” This was modern-day Cheyenne, yet Sage had the feeling quite a few people rode into town half expecting stagecoaches and more than just the staged gunfights in the streets.

      “I don’t know,” Sage muttered, unnecessarily answering his brother’s rhetorical question.

      Dylan kept talking, but Sage wasn’t really listening. Instead he was remembering the look in Colleen’s eyes when he’d confronted her in the parking lot. He’d wanted to talk to her. To see what she knew. To find out if she’d had any idea what J.D. had been up to.

      Instead, he’d put her on the defensive right from the jump. He hadn’t meant to just launch into an attack. But with the memory of his sister’s tears still fresh in his mind, he’d snapped at Colleen.

      Scrubbing one hand across his face, he realized that he was going to have to use a completely different tactic the next time he talked to her. And there would be a next time. Not only did she intrigue him on a personal level but there were too many questions left unanswered. Had she swayed J.D. into leaving her the money? Did she know why Angelica had lost everything? Did she maybe know something that might help him invalidate the will? His brain was racing.

      “Angie was looking at Evan like he was the enemy instead of the man she loves.”

      “Hard not to,” Sage said, mentally dragging himself back to the conversation at hand. “In one swipe, Evan took everything Angie thought was hers.”

      “Well, it’s not like he stole it or anything,” Dylan told him. “J.D. left it to him.”

      “Yeah,” he grumbled. “J.D. was just full of surprises, wasn’t he? Still, doesn’t matter how it happened. Bottom line’s the same. Angie’s out and Evan’s in. Not surprising that she’s angry at him.”

      “True.” Dylan picked up his beer for another sip, then held the bottle, rubbing his thumb over the label.

      “It was always tricky, the two of them engaged and working for the same company. But now that Angie’s not even the boss anymore?” Sage shook his head grimly. “I just hope this will doesn’t cause a breakup.”

      “Worst part is, I don’t know what we can do about it. From the little Walter said, I don’t think we’ll be able to contest the will without everyone losing.”

      “That’s Walter’s opinion. We need