A Father's Stake by Mary Anne Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

it wasn’t there. “Just like that, it’s a done deal.”
    She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed with a slight lift of her slender shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
    He didn’t want her sympathy. “Is your father a professional gambler?”
    “Professional? I don’t know, but it’s a huge part of who he is.”
    “He never wanted the land, did he?”
    Her color deepened again. “He never wanted anything that held him down.”
    “You wanted it, though?”
    “I never knew about it until the attorney contacted me and told me he’d signed it over to me.” Her voice was not quite steady. “So, he gave it to me.” Her eyes lifted to meet his and he was taken aback by the intensity in them. “Actually, he owed it to me,” she said. “We have quite a pair of fathers, don’t we?”
    He just stood there. This had gone off in a direction he’d never seen coming, and he knew that he’d hit the end right then. Until he could figure out what to do next. “I guess we do,” he admitted.
    Grace motioned to the house. “I have to get my things inside.”
    “Do you need help?” he offered.
    “No, I don’t,” she said, then headed for the car.
    “If you need to know anything about this place, just call me. I’m in the book.”
    She had the trunk of the car open but stuck her head around it to look back at him. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
    Jack waited a moment while she grabbed a small bag out of the trunk, then closed it. Without a glance at him, she headed for the steps and up onto the porch.
    By the time he was back in the Jeep, ready to head down the driveway, he turned and saw Grace in the doorway watching him. She raised a hand in a vague wave, then disappeared inside.
    In that moment, a memory flooded over him. His grandfather at that door watching three boys on their horses leaving at the end of a long summer’s day. The lift of one hand in a wave, the call out to them, “Straight home!” before he went inside and shut the door behind him.
    Jack’s breath caught in his chest, and he turned from the sight of the empty doorway. His grandfather was gone, but he wouldn’t let his land be gone too. He’d find a way to get it back. He wished he hadn’t spoken to her about the poker game. That look of sadness in her eyes lingered in his mind, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. He couldn’t let that stop him from doing what he had to do. And if things worked out, soon Grace could go back to L.A. with enough money to move to a better area of the city, and he’d get a huge chunk of his life back.

CHAPTER FOUR
    G RACE STOOD ALONE in the great room of the house, and felt close to tears. She was tired. She hadn’t slept well since Mr. Vaughn’s visit, and now she was here. She’d just never expected someone like Jack Carson to show up. He was upset about the loss of his family’s land. She understood that. Even worse that his father had been drunk and lost it in a poker game.
    When she’d first arrived and seen the house, she’d felt like jumping up and down and yelling, “It’s mine, all mine!” Now all she wanted to do was cry. She hugged herself, trying to shake off this sudden depression, and quietly examined the room in front of her, taking in every detail. Heavy beams zigzagging overhead, tile floors well worn with age, rough plaster walls, and a fireplace surrounded by comfortable leather furniture. Everything fit perfectly together. Five minutes later, she’d discovered three decent size bedrooms, one empty, one used as storage for furniture and boxes, and the last containing an old iron double bed along with a sturdy dresser. White sheets and a deep turquoise blanket were folded on the bare mattress, and two pillows were stacked by the linens. The main bathroom had a pedestal sink and a claw-foot tub with a shower over it. The second bathroom was tiny, with just a small shower, sink and toilet.
    Heading back to the great room, she crossed instead to the low archway