Granting katelyn, p.24
Granting Katelyn, page 24
“I blame that solely on you,” Elle said from across the cab to Blake.
“Right you are,” Blake nodded. He turned back to Grant. “Safe trip, keep that little shit outta trouble, would ya?” he said, and nodded towards where Katelyn was waving goodbye.
“I’ll do my best,” Grant said. He walked to the plane with his shoulders heavy. They sagged with the weight of leaving a world that had been so warm and welcoming. He didn’t know if he felt better or worse for the trip, only more conflicted. He slid in beside Katelyn and put on his headset.
“You okay?” she said over the intercom. He nodded but didn’t say anything in return. “Well, hang on then, I’ll get you back before curfew,” she said with a smile.
Grant didn’t respond, and Katelyn studied him as they taxied out to the runway. He could tell she knew what was on his mind, but he wasn’t ready to open up about it. She’d thrown him into a fire of emotional upheaval and made him question everything he thought about how life should be. But it wasn’t her job to sway him one way or another. So, she focused on flying, and left him to his own thoughts.
Twenty-One
Grant should have expected the reckoning. He’d dropped Katelyn off at the Sutters’ on his way back to Tennyson Stables. When he pulled in, the high-end cars parked at the front of the house caused sweat to break all over his body. Ian was already home, and up to something.
The delicious calm that had lowered his shoulders and loosened his body for the past two days was now gone, and he felt every muscle in his body contract at once. His jaw clenched, and he hunched into his center. Adrenaline pulsed in his veins and he stormed from the truck, gripping his coat and bag with white knuckles. He entered the office, as he would have from any business trip, angry and exhausted, bee-lining for the bar in the corner. The gentlemen in his father’s study looked up from their conversation and followed his livid entrance.
“There’s the man of the hour!” Ian’s voice froze the air between them.
“Aye,” Grant returned in kind. He didn’t offer any explanation as to where he’d gone, nor did he ask what was happening. He knew Ian had a show planned, and he wasn’t going to jump in for a part.
“You’ve arrived just in time. I’ve gathered these fine gentlemen for the celebration,” Ian said directly.
“And what, pray tell, are we celebrating this time, Father?” Grant swallowed the whisky and his heart hammered in his chest, fear pulsing in his blood.
“Well, I suppose it’s a little bittersweet isn’t it? After your less than successful business trip.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about—”
“The potential merger you were sniffing into. Shame it fell through,” Ian said.
“Fell through?” Of course Ian knew. He knew everything.
“No matter. We both knew it was a long shot. Besides, we’re here to celebrate your upcoming nuptials.” Ian clapped him on the back. Grant choked on the sip still in his mouth and coughed. Through the tears welled in his eyes, he saw Cecilia’s father’s pinched face, raising his glass to Grant’s obvious discomfort.
“Glad you finally asked, Grant. Though I don’t know what kind of idiot would take as long as you did,” he said snidely.
“Yes, my son is an idiot.” Ian stared at Grant with cold eyes. “But I think he’s coming around to what’s best for him.”
“I did not—”
“Will not,” Ian interrupted, “make any more mistakes,” he finished under his breath. “Or I will make sure your ‘interests’ in that backwater little town of Sweet Valley will suffer. Immensely. Right down to their pathetic bakery and mangy quarter horses.” Grant stared fiery daggers into his father’s soul. The crystal glass cracked in his hand.
“You can’t—”
“Hold your bloody tongue,” Ian seethed, “or I will destroy that little harlot and everything she loves.”
The tone, the menace, the malice of words that Grant knew were not empty threats, made his heart die inside of his chest. All of the warmth and love she’d given, Ian took. And if Grant dared to defy, Katelyn would suffer the consequences. That Ian knew the details of her family, their land and livelihood, made Grant sure that his threat was only a few signatures away from being put into action.
“You will discontinue that merger, immediately, and focus on your upcoming wedding,” Ian insisted. “Or I’ll have all their land and kick them into the dirty gutter where they belong.” His voice was inaudible to the other men in the room.
Grant leaned away. The drink rose up his throat as he thought of her face, the eyes that would know him, know that he was lying when he told her. How she’d argue, how she’d fight. How she’d cause her own undoing, out of sheer stubborn insistence that she was right. And she was right.
But right didn’t matter.
Only her safety, only the preservation of the family who had so lovingly taken him in. Emilee’s blue eyes and blonde curls flashed in his mind and he stumbled backwards against the wall. Only her future mattered, and so that future could have nothing to do with him.
Grant searched the faces of the other men, who only half-understood the power play that was taking place, only half aware of the hell he’d lived in since the tender age of eight. Grant’s eyes faltered when he saw Jeffers gathering up glasses on a tray. When the old butler looked at him, honest eyes moist, and stiff lip trembling, his whole world fell apart. Jeffers shook his head minutely, a silent plea for Grant’s case in the matter that could not be defended by either of them.
Ian had won. Again.
The next day, Katelyn woke early, disappointed at the empty bunk bed and missing him something awful. She dressed and did her chores for Jasmine with a spring in her step and a smile that couldn’t be contained.
“Someone had a good couple of days break.” Jasmine looked at her knowingly. “What young stable stud did you shack up with?” Katelyn threw her arm around Jasmine’s shoulder and kissed her cheek on her way out the door.
“Oh, no one in particular.”
“Liar! Jeremy told me you and Mr. Tennyson had a private ride the other afternoon. You wouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy would you?” She smiled. Grant was far from an enemy after his generosity to the family, but Katelyn appreciated being teased. It made her feel at home.
“Maybe a little bit.”
“I don’t think there’s a ‘little’ bit about that man,” Jasmine said. Katelyn laughed her way out the door and down the lane. She wondered if she should go straight to Grant’s office. Or maybe, he’d be in the stable, more comfortable in the hay and dirt than in the lofty confines of his old job. She decided to try for Hugh’s stall.
Katelyn walked through the stable with her heart in her throat and the other workers lowered their eyes as she passed. An arctic feeling settled in the air and preceded her approach towards the tall, thin man standing outside of Hugh’s stall.
“Shit,” Katelyn breathed before straightening her spine. “Mr. Tennyson,” she began.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries that neither one of us feels, shall we?”
“Not sure what you mean, but okay.”
“I heard a very nasty rumor that one of my planes was stolen this weekend. A punishable offense to be sure.”
Katelyn squared her shoulders. If the cat was out of the bag, she wasn’t going to let him pretend that he had an upper hand in catching it.
“Really? That’s a damn shame. You should probably vet your workers better. In any case, if Grant was in the plane at the time of its supposed theft, and he’s listed as the owner, I don’t think you’d have a case. Shame, if you’re trying to get someone falsely arrested.”
“Do you presume to think you’re smarter than me, Miss Sullivan?” he growled.
“Well, I don’t like to presume anything. I tend to deal in fact.” She stood taller and feigned bravery that she did not feel. Katelyn recognized the look in his eyes, the one that Jane had surely faced herself. The one that had cowed Grant countless times. She took a deep breath, smiled at him wryly, and looked unflinching into his eyes.
“There are legal consequences for employees who engage in prohibited behavior at Tennyson Stables.”
“I’m aware, Mr. Tennyson, that you are used to holding tight rein on your son and his business. I appreciate you being straightforward with me about the rules and expectations. However, he is no longer a minor ward under your care and can make his own decisions. As I’ve never signed a contract with or received a paycheck from Tennyson Stables, my time here is completely voluntary and I cannot be reprimanded as an employee for any breach of contract,” Katelyn stated, countering his threat with fact. Ian faltered, leaned back, and disappointment furrowed his brow.
“It appears I have been deceived.” Ian paced around her. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, studying the ground in thought, his lips thin with anger. She could tell he hadn’t expected to be challenged or disempowered.
“I never claimed to be anything other than what I am,” she said.
“That’s a lie, Miss Sullivan. You assured me upon your arrival that you were here on business.”
“I was. But situations, like people, evolve,” Katelyn seethed.
“You’ve done damage, haven’t you? Gotten your grubby little nails into him? I don’t know what it is about you that’s got him turned around, but you will, from this time on, cease all relations with my son.”
“Oh, will I? Is that how things work around here? People obey when you command?”
“Yes,” he answered and looked down his nose. Katelyn scowled.
“Well, I’m not one of your people.”
“You’d rather cause Grant undue suffering for your own selfish gain than allow him his happiness?”
“My gain?” She came a step closer. “Just what do you think I’m gaining?”
Ian spread his arms wide open and gestured to the grand stables and shiny-coated horses, the green fields beyond, the austerity and name. “Tennyson Stables, of course! You simple-minded gold-digger. Thinking that you’d waltz in here, seduce my son, marry him away from his prearranged engagement and become heiress to the biggest and most respected thoroughbred program this side of the world?” It all came out in a strained breath, bit between his teeth. His sharp chin, so unlike Grant’s, jutted out, as if to point at her accusingly. Katie’s scowl deepened.
“So that’s what it is? You think I’m here to con you out of your overpriced herd of inbred horses? That I want to steal your land? I don’t give a shit about your stables, or those useless ribbons adorning your walls. If that’s all you want, if that’s all that matters to you, then keep them. Keep it all! All I want, all I ever wanted, was for Grant to be happy. For him to be the best person he can be. So, keep your damn land. Keep all your money and your precious bloodlines. Just let him be. You don’t own him!”
“He’s as much mine as the land and my ‘inbred’ herd. He is my son, and he will carry on my line as I see fit, or he won’t get a dime.”
“We don’t need—”
“That’s where you’re wrong!” Ian interjected. “You don’t need those things. You’re perfectly happy living off of canned beans and government handouts.”
“You uppity son-of-a-bitch.”
“But Grant is accustomed to the life I’ve given him, and he’s not going to give that up. Didn’t he tell you why Jane killed herself? He refused to go back to living in squalor. He wouldn’t for Jane, and he won’t for you. The sooner you realize that and go back to your simple, insignificant life, the better.”
“You can’t tell me—”
“If you truly care for my son as you say you do, then you will leave,” Ian said, but before she could answer he went on. “Don’t make his life any harder than it has to be. Not when he’s just proposed to Cecilia, and accepted the truth in his heart.”
Katelyn watched him go, and the words sunk into her brain. She paced outside of the stall, one hand over her mouth, one on her hip. She tried to hold in the tears, but they snuck out. She wiped them on her sleeve and turned to pace another round.
Grant had proposed to Cecilia, right after they’d returned. Had he known he was going to do it the whole time they were in Sweet Valley? When he’d told her father that he only had her best interests at heart? She swallowed the sob in her throat.
She’d fallen too hard and too fast, and shut out good reason. She thought back to how he’d begged to be loved. How he’d seemed to absorb the acceptance and love as though he were a dry field taking first rain. Katelyn stopped at the large front doors of the stable and scowled at his office window, where the blinds had been pulled down.
Katelyn didn’t believe it. She knew people. Grant wouldn’t have asked Cecilia to be in the same room with him, let alone share the rest of his life. She huffed in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and headed straight for the house. He was in the office, nursing what looked like a massive hangover. When she burst in, his face blanched as if he might throw up.
“Your father just came to see me.”
“Not now,” he barked and turned away.
“Yes, now Grant!” she demanded, and slammed the office door behind her. “He told me that you proposed to the viper.”
“Katelyn, damn it! Just don’t.”
“No, Grant! You listen to m—”
“You knew!” His harsh tone caused Katelyn to falter backwards. “You knew from the beginning we couldn’t do this.”
“I thought—”
“No! Don’t play dumb, Katelyn. It doesn’t suit you. We’re done here.”
“What’n the hell do you mean?”
“I’m saying your position is terminated. My father has arranged for your flight. Here’s a real paycheck for your time and efforts.” He shoved an envelope at her without meeting her eyes.
“Grant,” Katelyn’s throat was tight and her eyes burned looking at his jaw set so resolutely; his eyes so cold. “Can’t we just talk about this?”
“Your business with this facility is finished.” His tone and temper rose and his hands shook as he held out the ticket and check.
“What about us? What about everything?”
“There is no us.” He turned away.
“That’s not true,” she yelled and grabbed his arm.
“Dinna touch me!” he yelled back and tore his arm from her grasp. “Please leave the property or I will arrange to have you escorted.” He shoved the envelope into her hand. Katelyn stared, disbelieving, as he moved around his desk, stuffed his paperwork into his briefcase, and took in a ragged breath. She studied him, putting aside her own confusion and sadness to observe. He swallowed thickly, as though his emotions were strangling him. His hands, with nerves of steel that had kept his body immobile through hardships, injuries, and battles, shook and fumbled with the locks on his case.
“He got to you,” she said.
“What?”
Katelyn whispered in slight relief. “What did he threaten this time?” Grant sniffed, shut down his computer and turned away.
“I don’t believe the conversations between my father and I are any of your business.”
“It is my business when the man I love—”
“I’m not,” He sighed with a broken breath. “I’m not the man you love. Whatever you may think or feel is just an overreaction of your naïve emotional experience.”
“Love is not an overreaction. And I’m not naïve or emotional.”
“Miss Sullivan. Please leave or I will be forced to call security.”
“So, you let him make the choice for you. Was that easier?” She searched his downcast eyes. He looked up with a scowl.
“You dinna ken.” His voice shook.
“Explain it to me, then. Help me understand!”
“There’s nothing you need to understand, except that it’s over. You’re better off, Katelyn. Your family too. Please, just believe that and go,” he said.
“Well, I don’t believe that.”
“You have to!” he interrupted with such desperation that she felt his fear as if it were her own. “You have to, please,” he begged and his eyes filled.
“Please don’t, Grant. Please don’t ask me to do this. It isn’t fair!”
“You’ll discover, in time, Katelyn, that life is rarely fair,” he said. His eyes locked on hers. “Please,” he breathed. “If you know what’s best for you.”
“I do. I do know what’s best for me!” she said and threw the envelope down on the desk. It slid across to his side, heavy with what she would not accept. “The real question, Grant, is do you?”
At his silence, she stormed out and walked straight to Hugh’s stall. She undid the latch and locked herself inside. His soft grunt sounded from the back wall and she barely shut the door before she fell to a heap in the soft hay, sobbing. Grant was right; Ian always got what he wanted. He wanted a more suitable ‘business merger,’ and Grant had obeyed. Katelyn, Jane, even Grant’s own mother had been nothing more than obstacles to Ian’s endgame. Katelyn’s pain turned to anger, as she sat with her arms around her knees, wiping her tears on the soft and well-worn jeans.
But Grant had let him. He’d chosen money over love. Because he’d had so little of each as a child, and at least money was predictable. It never faded or changed its agenda. Hugh came to her and bent his head to snuffle her hair, offering reassuring grunts. Katelyn threw her arms around his withers. He lifted her.
“What do you say, you old jackass. One more ride before I go?” She spoke into his neck and he leaned into her sadness. Katelyn wiped her nose against her sleeve and bridled him. He stood still while she led him from the stables and to the farthest green field, turned bright in the light of early morning. She swung onto his back.
Her legs tightened around his ribs, and Hugh listened. The age-old understanding and mutual respect between horse and rider, the give and take of a relationship, centuries old, bonded them. She felt his canter quicken, the desperation in her heart driving her to hunker down and press her weight into him. Every movement was a conversation, and she let her body meld to his. He responded, joyous to push faster across the emerald field. She wished they could just take flight and get away from this dark and insane world they’d been thrust into.
