Sloane blinked. From foreign intrigue to food. “Pearl, where’s Samson?” She glanced around the small entryway, from the fresh, bright paint to the older but immaculate couch and chairs in the living room.
“He went to get his dog from Doc Sterling.”
“Won’t that be like announcing his presence?” Sloane wrinkled her nose.
“He’s just gonna take him. Doc doesn’t lock his doors,” the older woman said. “No one in town does.”
Sloane merely blinked at that. “But I’m sure he’ll figure out that Samson has him.”
“But he won’t know where Samson is. Unless you tell him.” Pearl leveled her best glare on Sloane, which wasn’t worth much since sweetness oozed from the older woman’s voice.
“Pearl, Chase is telling Rick as we speak. This isn’t a safe situation for anyone involved,”
Sloane said, coming to a decision. “Can I please use your phone?”
“Oh surely. Are you going to tell Chase to keep that reporter’s mouth of his quiet?” She leaned closer, obviously enjoying the intrigue.
Sloane laughed. “No, but I am going to put an end to this once and for all.” Following Pearl to the kitchen, Sloane picked up the phone and called Michael Carlisle.
He answered his private line on the first ring. “Carlisle.”
“Hi, Dad. It’s me, Sloane.”
“Sweetheart, I have been so worried.” Her father’s voice dropped an octave, the relief he felt on hearing her voice evident.
A little girl’s need to have her daddy rose up along with adult respect for the man who’d raised her and loved her. “I need you, Dad.” Her voice cracked and she didn’t care, didn’t bother holding back the tidal wave of emotion.
“You don’t have to ask twice. You never did. Madeline said you’re in Yorkshire Falls. I can be there by tonight.”
Turning away so Pearl, who was obviously eavesdropping and watching with eager eyes, couldn’t witness everything, Sloane blotted her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She hung up, realizing she didn’t have to make peace with Michael Carlisle’s decision not to tell her the truth about her parentage. She already had. She could forgive him because he loved her and had shown her that in so many ways over the years. But because she now knew the truth, she understood herself better too. And hopefully, now she’d have the time to get to know the eccentric man who’d sired her.
“I think this occasion calls for a brownie, don’t you?” Pearl asked.
Sloane turned back to face her hostess. “Sure.” She might as well eat while she was waiting for Samson.
As she shared a chocolate square and hot tea with Pearl, the man Sloane sought finally arrived.
Samson walked in through the back, his pug following close behind. “Had to run from the cops, avoid a reporter, and that damn man who kept asking directions. Then Dog here had to make a run for it when that dumb-ass mongrel Rick and Kendall call Happy came bounding round the side of the house,” Samson grumbled, not looking up or noticing Sloane. “What the hell kind of name is Happy for an animal, anyway?”
“I suppose Dog is better?” Sloane couldn’t help asking.
Samson frowned, glancing from Sloane to Pearl. “What’s she doing here?”
“I’m looking for you.” Rising from a chair in the kitchen, Sloane rubbed her damp palms against her pants.
“And I couldn’t very well leave her on the doorstep, now could I?” Pearl put a hand on Sloane’s shoulder. “It’s wintertime.”
“It’s not quite winter yet. Anyway, how’d she find me?”
“Any reason you don’t just ask me?” Sloane said.
His scowl deepened. “ ’Cuz if I ignore you, maybe you’ll go away.”
“Samson Humphrey, you apologize this instant,” Pearl said before Sloane could react. “I won’t be putting up with rudeness in my house. Just ask Eldin. We speak with respect here, or we don’t speak at all.”
“Then there must be a lot of quiet time ’round here,” Samson grumbled.
Sulking, Pearl folded her arms over her ample br**sts, then lowered herself into the chair Sloane had vacated.
This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Although Sloane knew better than to be insulted by Samson, who treated everyone with the same surly disdain, there was a part of her that wished he’d look at her differently and talk to her like the little girl he’d lost. But that was a lot like wishing Chase would treat her like the woman he loved and wanted to raise a family with. Neither wish would be coming true.
At this point, she’d settle for being allowed to stay with Samson during the little time she had left in Yorkshire Falls. And she didn’t think he needed to know Michael Carlisle was on his way here either.
“Look,” she said, coming up to Samson. She scooped up the pug for good measure and petted his head. “I need a place to stay, and since we want to get to know each other, I thought I could stay with you,” she told Samson.
It wasn’t until she’d spoken the words aloud that she realized she was afraid he’d say no.
Reject her. She curled her fingers into the fur on the dog’s back.
“The sofa in the family room pulls out,” Pearl said at the same time Samson growled at her.
“You ain’t staying here. I said I wanted to know if you was mine, but I didn’t say I wanted no kid in my life.”
Sloane shut her eyes, but his words remained out there. “It would just be for a day or two.
Until I’m ready to go home.”
“Stay with your boyfriend. There’s no room here,” he said, a defiant tilt to his chin and an uncompromising tone in his voice.
Even Pearl, whose eyes had opened wide, merely remained silent.
“Chase only wants me when I’m some damsel in distress,” she admitted aloud for the first time. And the notion hurt.
Samson’s head jerked up and he met her gaze.
Eerily familiar eyes stared back at her, reinforcing a family resemblance she hadn’t acknowledged until now. But he glanced away just as quickly, severing the connection.
Apparently, two men were about to turn her out of their lives, but she forged on, determined not to make it easy on Samson. “I can stand on my own two feet just fine.”
“Maybe you can, maybe you can’t. Depends on what kind of stuff you’re made of.”