Those big eyes widened. “Oh, no, it wasn’t like that.”
“He was a two-timing, cheating liar.” Ray stood and paced to the fireplace as an image of his father in bed with Scarlet flashed behind his eyes. “How long was it going on?” And what did she want?
“Listen to me,” Scarlet said, her voice rising in pitch. “Your father and I were not involved in that way. He was nothing but honorable and kind to me.”
Yeah, I bet he was. He turned to her, not bothering to hide his disdain. “So what do you want?”
She set her coffee down and folded her arms. “He told me you were stubborn and resented him, but he didn’t say you were a jerk.”
Ray angled his head toward her. “You’re calling me names. Lady, you don’t even know me.”
“And you don’t know me.” Scarlet lifted her chin in defiance. “But if you’d be quiet and listen, I’d like to explain.”
Ray’s gaze locked with hers, rage and grief and other emotions he couldn’t define rolling through him.
The same emotions were mirrored in her own eyes.
Needing something stronger than coffee, he set the mug down, then strode to the bar and poured himself a finger full of scotch.
“I’ll have one of those, too,” she said.
He bit back a retort and poured her a shot, then carried the glasses back to the fireplace. He handed her the tumbler, then sank into the wing chair and tossed his back in one gulp. “All right. You want me to listen. Say what you have to say, then get the hell out.”
* * *
SCARLET SHUDDERED AT Ray’s harsh tone. She’d seen pictures of him and his brothers, and knew Ray was the formidable one.
He was also the most handsome. Sure Brett was the charmer and Maddox was tough, but something about that dark, mysterious, haunted look in Ray’s eyes had drawn her.
Maybe because she understood how anger changed a person. She’d dealt with her own share over the years in the children’s home.
But Ray had been lucky enough to have a father who’d wanted him. Even if Joe McCullen hadn’t been perfect.
“So, spill it,” Ray said. “Why are you here?”
“This was a mistake.” She stood, fingers closing over the edge of her bag. “I’ll leave.”
She started past him, but Ray shot up and grabbed her arm. “No way you’re leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
Her gaze met his, tension vibrating between them. She gave a pointed look at her arm where his fingers held her.
“Take your hands off me.”
For a brief second, something akin to regret glimmered in his expression. But he released her and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually manhandle women.”
She wanted to believe him, but she’d met too many men who did. So she refused to let him off the hook.
His loud exhale punctuated the air. “Please sit down. I’ll behave.”
He looked so contrite that a tingle of something like respect danced through her. But she refrained from commenting as another image taunted her. One of Ray’s hands on her, tenderly stroking her, making her feel safe. No, not safe. Alive.
Fool.
Ray McCullen was anything but safe.
And judging from his brusque attitude, he was going to hate her when he learned the reason for her visit.
Ray struggled to wrangle his temper as Scarlet took a seat again.
When he looked at her, he couldn’t help but think about those damn dolls his mother had loved so much.
Just like them, she was almost too beautiful to be real.
Like them, she looked fragile, like a piece of china that could break if you held it too hard.
Yet she’d stood up to him and had a stubborn set to her chin that made him suspect there was more to her than surface beauty.
He could easily see why his father might have been attracted to her. But God...she was so young...
“I realize what I’m going to tell you may come as a shock,” she said softly, “but it’s what Joe wanted.”
“How do you know what my father wanted?”
Her eyes flickered with uneasiness at his tone. “I told you that I knew him pretty well.”
“So you said. But how did you know him? Was he your sugar daddy?”
Scarlet sucked in a harsh breath. “No. It wasn’t like that, Ray. I met him at The Family Farm outside Laramie.”
“The Family Farm?”
Scarlet nodded. “It’s a home for children without parents, an orphanage. Your father volunteered there. I was ten at the time we met, but he took me under his wing.”
For a moment, Ray couldn’t respond. “I find it hard to imagine my father volunteering with children,” he finally said. “He was a rancher. He worked the land.”
Scarlet shrugged. “He told me once that he had to find a way to atone for his sins. That he hadn’t always been the father he wanted to be, and he hoped giving back to some children without families would help make up for it.”
Ray’s dark gaze met hers, probing, skeptical. “He told you about Horseshoe Creek? About us?”
“Yes,” Scarlet said softly. “He loved you and Maddox and Brett. He was proud of all of you.”
Ray chuckled, but the sound was filled with sarcasm. “He was proud of Maddox. And maybe Brett because of the bull riding. But he didn’t give a damn about me.”
“That’s not true,” Scarlet said. “He loved you and hated what he did to you. That you knew his flaws.”
“That I did.” Ray made no attempt to hide his animosity. “He cheated on my mother with some woman named Barbara. But my mother loved him anyway.”
Scarlet looked away for a second, which made him even more uneasy.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of that worn-out shoulder bag. “I’m sorry, Ray, I didn’t come here to dredge up bad memories.”
“My father just died, Scarlet. Coming home already did that.” He exhaled. “So why did you come here? To tell me Dad did volunteer work?”
“Not just that, but to tell you what he did for me. I was alone and no one wanted to adopt me. But he gave me a home and a family.”
A bead of perspiration trickled down Ray’s neck. “What are you talking about?”
“He took me home to live with Barbara and Bobby. Their last name is Lowman.”
“You lived with my father’s mistress?”
She nodded. “For a while. With her and her son.” She hesitated. “Their son.”
Her words echoed in Ray’s mind as if he’d fallen into a wind tunnel. “Their son?”
Scarlet nodded. “I’m sorry. I...thought he was going to tell you about Bobby before he passed.”
A deep sense of betrayal cut through Ray, and he balled his hands into fists. He wanted to punch something.
He had