Smoketree - By Jennifer Roberson Page 0,19

what I’d said to put that cold, hard glint in his warm blue eyes.

Harper, once Sunny was put away, escorted me up to the Lodge. I saw Cass on the porch, watching us. Her face was excessively blank, too blank; her eyes were speculative and wary. Then I realized what her problem was.

Harper. And me. On one horse.

I nearly smiled. But I didn’t, knowing it would only make matters worse, and climbed up the steps to join her.

“Nice ride?” she asked.

“A little cramped,” I told her, and saw the flush in her cheeks. “But then it wasn’t my idea.”

Her eyes went at once to Harper, who remained noncommittal. He reached past us to open the door, a proper gentleman, and I saw the beginnings of a comment from Cass. Then she said nothing at all, and I went on in.

Harper’s boots thudded behind me as I entered the dining room. I wanted to wash my hands; I started to turn to ask Harper where to go but hesitated. The Olivers were deep in discussion with a man whose back was to me, a man whose back seemed oddly familiar. And yet it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

“Go on through the kitchen,” Harper was saying, “Maria can point you in the right direction.”

But I hardly heard him. The new guest turned toward me, neglecting the Olivers, and I stopped dead. So dead Harper nearly knocked me flat.

“You okay?” Harper asked, but I was in no shape to answer. “Kelly?” Harper again, and still I didn’t answer.

The newcomer smiled at me. He was so like Tucker it hurt. He had the same widely-spaced gray eyes with sun-crinkles at the corners, taut brown skin, unruly blond hair and lithe build. He crossed the room to me and smiled again.

“It is you, isn’t it?” he asked in a warm baritone. “Kelly?” My breath went out quickly, replaced by feeble laughter. “Brandon! Oh my God—”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?” He grinned. “What a blow to my ego. ”

“I’m sorry,” I told Brandon. “I didn’t expect to see you here, and for a moment—well, you’re so much like Tucker.” The warmth in his eyes faded to comprehension. “Oh Kelly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. ” He sighed and shook his head. “I’d almost forgotten the resemblance. Lately no one’s remarked on it. But if I’d known you were going to be here, I’d have forewarned you.” His eyes were very kind and compassionate. “I’m really sorry—it must have been a shock. We haven’t seen each other since… well—it’s been a while.”

We hadn’t seen each other for six months. Since the night Tucker had died. And now the memory of that evening rose up like a spectre between us.

Harper moved away. Distracted, I watched him head toward the private quarters of the Lodge. And then I turned back to Brandon. I sucked in a deep breath and let it out again, forcing a smile.

He wasn’t fooled. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.” He led me toward a table.

“Wait.” I hesitated, displaying my hands. “Let me clean up a little. I’ll only be a minute.”

Brandon let me go. I went on into the kitchen, found the washroom after Maria’s directions and shut the door with a decided click. Then I leaned against it, eyes closed, and tried to overcome the grief that surged up so uncontrollably.

When the first pain had passed I washed my face and hands, using cold water only. Then I stared at myself in the mirror over the sink and saw again the pale face with the hollow—too hollow—cheeks and the huge, dilated brown eyes. The scar on my brow was a purple snake writhing beneath my bangs. I put shaking fingertips to it and traced out its path, feeling the ridged line and puckered flesh.

Brandon was waiting for me as I rejoined the people in the dining room. He put a drink in my hand—bourbon and water—and steered me toward the nearest table. A gentle pressure on my shoulder told me to sit down on the bench.

“Relax,” he said gently as I lifted the glass to my mouth. “What else can you expect when you see me for the first time?” His smile was comforting, as was the kindness in his eyes.

I sipped at the drink and then nodded, releasing a breath. “I feel stupid.”

“No. I’m damn near his twin, when you aren’t expecting it. Like I said, I would have warned you had I known you’d be here.”

I