Out of Exile. Carla Cassidy

just a moment, as he looked at himself, he thought he saw his father’s visage glaring back at him. He shook his head and forced his lips into a smile, an expression his father had rarely worn. The ghost image disappeared, and with a grunt of satisfaction Matthew left the bedroom.

      The family was gathered in the living room, having successfully maneuvered the obstacle course just inside the room of Aunt Clara’s boxes and belongings.

      Luke and his wife, Abby, sat on the sofa; Johnna and her husband, Jerrod, were next to them. Mark and April sat on the love seat, and Lilly and Clara were in wing chairs.

      Lilly looked as pretty as a picture against the wine-colored high-backed chair. She’d done something different to her hair. It didn’t hang loose but rather was twisted in some sort of bun at her nape, exposing the long, graceful curve of her neck.

      She wore a pale-pink cotton dress, short enough to expose bare legs and white sandals that displayed toenails painted a feminine pink.

      She smiled at him as he entered, and the smile held the heat of a warm, summer day. Tension filled him in response. He didn’t want to find her attractive, didn’t want to feel the magnetic pull of desire for her.

      The group fell silent as Matthew walked to stand in front of the fireplace facing them all. “Where are the children?” he asked, referring to Mark and Johnna’s son, Brian, and Luke and Abby’s son, Jason, and daughter, Jessica.

      “Brian took them outside to play,” Mark said.

      “And doll babies they are, all three of them,” Clara beamed. “And another baby on the way.” She smiled at April, who grinned back and touched the palm of her hand to her stomach. “So much happiness in this family.”

      Matthew frowned. “Let’s get started here,” he said. “I called this meeting because we have business to attend to.”

      “Well, we know you didn’t call it because you just wanted to see and visit with us all,” Johnna said dryly.

      “Johnna, don’t start,” Mark said softly.

      “I’m not starting anything,” Johnna protested.

      “Is there anything anyone would like to bring up before I discuss the reason I called the meeting?” Matthew ignored his sister, who always seemed to take great pleasure in needling him.

      “I’d like to discuss something,” April said. She stood, a pretty blonde with green eyes, who had captured Mark’s heart when she’d come here seven months ago to work as a social director. “I’d like to plan a Halloween party.”

      “But we don’t have any guests for Halloween. We’re still dark that night,” Matthew said. “Guests don’t start arriving again until November 2.”

      “I don’t want the party to be for guests, but rather for the workers.” She offered him a tentative smile. “I’d like to do a real costume party, with candy for the kids and games and all kinds of fun. I think it would be really good for morale.”

      “We aren’t here to boost morale. We’re here to run a dude ranch,” he replied, sounding stiff and unyielding to his own ears.

      “Personally, I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Johnna exclaimed. “Honestly, Matthew, why don’t you loosen up a little. Things have been rough around here lately, and happy workers make productive workers.”

      Several of the others voiced their agreement and enthusiasm for such a party. “Fine,” he finally capitulated. “If you all want to have a party, then have it. You deal with it, I’ve got plenty of other things to deal with around here.”

      “So what did you want to discuss?” Mark asked.

      “I got a call the other day from Dale Maxwell, president of Maxwell Redevelopment, a company based in Phoenix. He made us an offer to buy this place once the terms of the will are met and we take official ownership.”

      Mark leaned forward. “I hope you told him to go to hell.”

      “I told him I needed to discuss the offer with all of you.”

      “I’ve heard of Maxwell Redevelopment, they’re into building time-share properties,” Luke said.

      “The offer was a generous one,” Matthew said, and named the figure the company had thrown out to him.

      “When we first learned the terms of Father’s will, I was one of the ones who yelled the loudest about having to spend time here, working once again for the family ranch,” Johnna said. “But, now, after spending the past seven months working here again, I’m not sure I’m willing to just sell out.”

      “I agree,” Luke replied.

      Matthew felt an invisible constricting band tightening up around his chest. He hadn’t realized until this moment that he’d half hoped they would all vote to sell the place. “But, if we sell, we can take the money and build new lives.” And they wouldn’t have to pretend anymore that they were a real, functioning family.

      “Could I say something?” Clara asked with a tentative smile. “I know I have no right to be part of a vote or anything,” she began. “But I would hate to see you all sell this land. My parents settled here before you all and their parents before them. This isn’t just a ranch, it’s your roots, your heritage, and your father spent his blood and tears building it into something grand.”

      She knew nothing about his father, Matthew thought irritably. It wasn’t Adam Delaney’s blood and tears that had built this place. It had been the blood and tears of his children, whom he’d used like slave labor.

      “Personally, I don’t intend to sell,” Mark said when Clara had finished. He looked at Matthew. “When the time comes, if you want out of all this, one way or another I’ll buy you out.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” Matthew replied, fighting the ever-present anger that thoughts of his father created. “That’s all I had to discuss this evening.” He walked over to the bar and poured himself a jigger of brandy, signaling the end of his participation. Within moments the others began to visit with each other.

      “Got another one of those?” Lilly asked, coming to stand next to him.

      “Certainly.” He poured her a shot of brandy and handed it to her, trying not to notice the sweetly feminine floral scent of her that reached out to surround him.

      “Could I speak to you alone after everyone has left?” she asked, her gaze lingering on his face. “I have something I need to discuss with you.”

      “All right,” he agreed, although he had no idea what she needed to talk about with him.

      She nodded, sipped her brandy, then walked back to where Clara was seated and crouched down next to the old woman to talk.

      Matthew watched her for a long moment, watching the animation of her features as she spoke to Clara. He’d intentionally made himself scarce that afternoon, feeling as if he needed some distance from her.

      He’d worked in one of the pastures, fixing fencing and expending enormous energy in an effort to still all the emotions that rolled around inside him.

      For some reason, since Lilly’s arrival, Matthew had been more on edge, more at odds than he could remember. Something about her appearance here had sparked a cataclysm of emotion that he had yet to be able to sort out.

      He turned his attention to his family. Things were changing. Things had changed. The death of their father and the terms of the will he’d left behind had somehow transformed his siblings into different people than they had been.

      Mark, who had always been the silent one, as if trying to be invisible, sat straight in his seat with a new sense of pride and self-identity.

      Luke, who’d been precariously close to becoming an alcoholic, was facing life sober and with a new sense of responsibility, thanks to his wife and children.

      And