Heartache Falls Part 17

TWELVE.

Loud barking woke Mac the next morning. He pried open one eye and checked the bedside clock. 8:07 a.m. He'd slept in. He'd have to hit the gym at lunchtime.

Arf arf arf arf arf.

He glanced toward Ali, saw she remained fast asleep, and rolled out of bed to tend to Gus. His hand was on the doork.n.o.b before he remembered that they had guests. Mac paused long enough to pull on shorts and a T-shirt before stumbling downstairs.

He ambled into the kitchen, then stopped abruptly. "Caitlin?"

"Hi, Daddy!" She set the coffee scoop on the counter and flew into his arms. For that short moment, all was right with the world. After hugging her tight, he held her away from him and looked down into her beautiful face. Blond with moss-green eyes, a b.u.t.ton nose, and a bee-stung mouth, she looked more like a woman than a girl. Mac took a moment to mourn before saying, "What a great surprise, kitten. I thought you had something important going on this weekend. Does your mother know you were coming home?"

"Everything's fine, my event got cancelled, and no, I didn't tell Mom, either. I wanted to surprise you both." Nodding her head toward the window, she added, "I brought my guy with me, Daddy. I thought it was time for you to meet him."

Oh, h.e.l.l. She brought the boyfriend. Mac's stomach sank even as he turned to look outside.

The young man was tall and lean and blond, dressed in khaki shorts and a long-sleeved sport shirt-a pink shirt-with Sperrys on his feet and a ball cap with sungla.s.ses propped above the bill on his head. A picture-perfect frat daddy. Mac despised him on sight.

"Oh, okay. Tell you what. Let me run upstairs and wake your mom. You know she'll want her hair fixed and her makeup on when she meets your new, um, friend."

"Sure. Tell her not to hurry. We'll be out by the pool drinking our coffee and playing with the dog."

Mac climbed the stairs two at a time, then entered his bedroom and shook Ali's bare shoulder. "Wake up, honey. I have news."

As his wife stirred, he walked over to the window and peeped through the blinds. Ali sat up and said, "I think I could sleep for a week. What time is it?"

"Trouble time," he muttered. "Your daughter is home."

That brought her awake. "She is?"

He watched the boyfriend smile and wave toward the kitchen window. "She brought the boyfriend home."

Ali's eyes widened. "Patrick?"

"Is that his name?"

"Patrick Talley."

"What do you know about him?"

She joined him at the window and peeked outside. "He's pre-law at Vandy. From upstate New York. Hasn't she told you about him?"

"Yeah, but I was busy and distracted, and she went on and on until I quit listening."

"Caitlin says he's brilliant."

"What does she know?" he muttered. "What do you know about his family?"

Ali shrugged and headed for the bathroom. "I don't think his family is close. Cait mentioned his mother was a single mom. I think he's a scholarship student."

"Oh." Like me. This just keeps getting better and better.

"Cait says he's a very hard worker, and the profs all like him."

"In other words, he's a suck-up."

She shook her head at him. "Now, Mac. Don't be such a stereotypical dad. Cait is a smart, savvy young woman. She won't fall for a loser."

Mac muttered beneath his breath, "Don't be so sure."

Ali rushed to get dressed, and a short eight minutes later, they exited the house together. After Ali called Caitlin's name, mom and daughter squealed and ran into each other's arms. Mac sipped his coffee and told himself to be nice. When Caitlin stepped away from her mother, she motioned to the boy. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Patrick Talley. Patrick, my parents."

The boy shook Ali's hand, and then Mac's. He had a firm handshake, but Mac wouldn't have expected any less. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Timberlake, Judge Timberlake."

"Welcome to our home, Patrick," Ali told him, gracious as always.

They all made small, get-to-know-you talk for a few minutes. The Talley kid was polite, friendly, and respectful, and Mac saw that Ali was impressed. He'd thought she had better sense than that. The longer the conversation continued, the more suspicious Mac grew. Patrick Talley had ambitions with a capital A.

The boy had done his homework where the Timberlake family business was concerned. He knew Mac's clerkships out of school, knew about the Denver firm. He mentioned details about the Sandberg case that only someone closely following would know.

Mac didn't like this situation at all. If the little b.a.s.t.a.r.d thought he could use Mac's little girl, he had another think coming.

He was glad when his sons and Lori joined them and the topic of conversation shifted away from the legal profession. Ali suggested a big breakfast, and Mac said he'd help. When Patrick offered his a.s.sistance, too, Mac was quick to insist that he stay outside and visit with the other young people.

In the kitchen, he rummaged in the fridge, then asked, "Bacon or sausage?"

"Bacon. French toast or pancakes?"

"Pancakes. Scrambled eggs? Not for you, of course," he hastened to add.

Ali smiled. "Absolutely."

Mac waited until she had mixed the pancake batter to ask, "So, what's the deal with this character?"

She glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't he just a little too ... nice?"

"Mac." Ali's look chastised him.

"It's true. He's smarmy."

"He's polite. He's clean-cut."

"He's wearing a pink shirt!"

Ali rolled her eyes. "He's on the honor roll."

"Yeah, well." He spread strips of bacon in the frying pan. "Those are the ones you have to watch out for."

"You are being a cliche, Mac."

He grumbled beneath his breath as he grabbed the egg carton from the fridge and began cracking eggs into a bowl. "I'm a father and a judge. I have good instincts about people."

She refrained from commenting as she poured pancake batter onto the heated electric griddle.

"I do," he insisted. "Look, have I ever reacted so strongly to one of her boyfriends before? No, I haven't."

"That's because she's never been this serious about a boy before. They didn't threaten you."

"Threaten me?" He almost crushed an egg in his fist. "What do you mean by that?"

Ali took a sip of her coffee, then faced him. "You've been the most important man in Caitlin's world since the day she was born. The idea that another man will usurp that place in her life is threatening."

"That's not ... okay, maybe that's a little of it." He added milk to the bowl and whisked the eggs. "There's just something about him that bothers me. He knows too much about us."

"That's because he's interested in Caitlin. He wants to know about her life, and that includes her family."

Mac scowled. "Just how serious do you think she is about this pretty boy? Do you think they're, um ..."

"Sleeping together?"

"No." He grimaced. "Don't say that. I don't want to think about that." Then, because this was in fact the heart of the matter, he met his wife's gaze and said, "I don't want her to lose her dreams, Ali."

Ali's eyes warmed with emotion. Was it sympathy he saw? Appreciation? Whatever it was, Mac could tell that he'd scored a point. She set down her spatula and faced him.

"Your daughter is an intelligent, responsible young woman with goals and a very strong sense of self. She and I have had that talk. We've had it a number of times, starting when she had her first period and as recently as three weeks ago. It's only natural you worry about her-about all the kids-and unplanned pregnancies, but I don't think you should invest too much effort in it. It wouldn't be the end of the world if it happened, although I'm way too young to be a grandmother."

"Wait a minute. Isn't an unplanned pregnancy at the root of our troubles?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Not the pregnancy itself. I've always said that I wouldn't trade Stephen for anything, and that still holds true. I've thought about this a lot in recent weeks, Mac. Where I made my mistake was in losing my ident.i.ty to the family."

He frowned at that. "You regret being a stay-at-home mom?"

"No, not at all. What I regret is totally ignoring the reality that someday my kids would grow up. If I'd planned ahead, I wouldn't have been rudderless the last year or two. Mac, you'd better turn the bacon."

He returned his attention to the skillet, and Ali brought the conversation back to Caitlin. "I know it's early yet, and I think there's a good possibility that Patrick might be the one. You do realize that he's the reason she didn't come home this summer. It wasn't us or any job."

"Yeah, I figured that out a few weeks ago."

"You need to prepare yourself for that possibility that he might be a permanent part of our lives, Mac."

"I don't like him."

"Learn to like him. Have some faith in her choice."

"I don't trust him."

"Why?" Ali frowned with exasperation. "This isn't like you. You usually give people a fair shot. Why rag on Patrick so much? Frankly, your daughter appears to have chosen a man a lot like her father. Weren't you a scholarship student? Didn't you work hard, study hard, and earn your grades?"

"I didn't wear pink shirts and Sperrys," he grumbled, unable to think of a point he could use to explain his suspicions. He could only imagine how Ali would react if he said Patrick Talley reminded him way too much of himself at that age. She hadn't known the truth then. She still didn't know it today. "It's an instinctive reaction. There's just something fishy about him. For Caitie's sake, keep an eye on him, would you, please?"

"Hmm." She moved cooked pancakes onto a warming plate, then added more batter to the griddle. "I'll admit you do have good instincts. Okay, I'll pay closer attention."

"Thanks. Maybe I'm wrong, but ..." Mac shrugged. He knew he wasn't wrong.

As the day moved forward, Mac decided that paying closer attention wasn't enough, and he watched for an opportunity to act. Chase, Lori, and Stephen had tickets to a Rockies game and after they left, Mac decided to take Gus for a walk. He invited the others to accompany him. Ali and Caitlin declined since they were busy tearing through closets and jewelry boxes in order to put together an outfit for some big dance Caitlin had on the docket for the fall. As Mac had expected, Patrick took him up on the invitation. Mac couldn't find the dog leash fast enough.

They talked about dogs as an icebreaker, but by the time they'd reached the park a quarter mile from the house, the conversation had turned to law schools. Patrick asked a question about Stephen's choices after graduation, which presented Mac the opportunity he'd waited for. "He'd like to come to Denver and work for his grandfather's firm, but that's not a possibility."

"Oh? Why not?" The kid's inquisitive smile reminded Mac of Eddie Haskell on Leave It to Beaver. Smarmy son of a gun.

"I'm not a believer in working family connections. That leads to too much inbreeding in a firm. I've told Stephen not to expect me or his grandfather to smooth his way securing clerkships, and that he will not be offered a spot at his grandfather's firm."

"Wow. I don't mean to sound critical, but isn't that kind of cold?"

"Not at all. I've been down that particular road. My father-in-law and I both thought he was doing me a favor when he helped me out with contacts and positions. In hindsight, I know such a.s.sistance hinders a young lawyer more than it helps. I want the best for those in my family. I want them to be the best. The way that happens is through experience. Stephen is going to have to compete with his peers from the very beginning. No special favors in this family."

"I see." The kid kept his smile in place, but it didn't seem quite as ingratiating as before.

Having planted the seed, Mac decided to let it grow. "So, are you a sports fan? How about the Vanderbilt baseball team? The Commodores were strong compet.i.tors in the SEC this year."

"Yeah, they were."

Talk remained on college sports after that, and Mac's steps were a little lighter on the way back home.

Ten days after the kids' visit to Denver, with meetings surrounding the sale of the Bristlecone popping up almost daily, work kept Ali in Eternity Springs more often than she had antic.i.p.ated or Mac liked. Her misgivings about the sale had continued to grow until she'd decided to broach the subject with Celeste. It wasn't too late to revert to the original plan. The television chef's list of changes to the Bristlecone had yet to be begun. Celeste could call off the sale, Ali could turn her attention to hiring a manager, and the Bristlecone could be open within weeks. Celeste had listened, smiled, patted her knee, and said, "Not to worry, dear. I have a feeling all will work out exactly as it's meant to work out."

Mac was acting cranky, too, which didn't help Ali's mood at all. Yes, she was busy. But how many times over the years had she been patient and understanding during a particularly busy trial? Couldn't he return the favor?

When a knock sounded on her office door, she glanced up from the computer screen. Sage Rafferty stood in the doorway. "Hey, Ali. Are you planning to go to quilt group tonight?"

"Yes."

Sage held up a canvas tote bag. "My husband has talked me into skipping out this week, so would you deliver my squares for me? Colt is craving Italian food and he wants to drive to Gunnison tonight."

"I'll be happy to take your squares ... although you know you'll catch grief from the group."

"I know, but he looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and I couldn't resist. Unless ..." With a hopeful note in her voice, she asked, "Do you have any lasagna leftovers in your fridge? That's what he really wants. Your lasagna."

Flattered, Ali shook her head. "Sorry. I haven't cooked up here in weeks."

Ali thought of the conversation later as she made her way to the workroom at Angel's Rest where the Patchwork Angels met. Their Hopes and Wishes wedding gown quilt was nearly finished, and Ali thought it the most beautiful quilt she'd ever seen. Celeste intended to use it in the Timberline suite at Angel's Rest, and Ali couldn't wait to see it on the bed. Seeing strips of her own wedding gown in the quilt top gave her a warm sense of satisfaction. Despite Mac's cranky att.i.tude of late, Ali was happier than she'd been in months, and she did have hope that her marriage would survive these trying times.

At three o'clock her phone rang, and Ali recognized the Los Angeles number on the caller ID. She groaned aloud, then drew a deep, calming breath, crossed her fingers, and answered the call. "h.e.l.lo?"