{ 411 }.

But no one was out there.

Blindly heading for the staff stairs, her mind was racing, her thoughts slamming into one another, splintering, falling to pieces.

At the core, though, she came to one, inescapable conclusion.

She had made a terrible mistake.

The kind for which forgiveness was going to be next to impossible.

Down on the first floor, she stopped dead in her tracks. And realized that, of all the places to stall out, she had picked Rosalindas office.

William Baldwine was dead, too.

How? she wondered. What had happened to him?

In a series of flashes, she saw Lane standing in the greenhouse, his face shut down, his voice flat as asphalt. Then she heard his friend telling her that, contrary to happily banging Chantal on the side, Lane had seen no one, done nothing.

And then the bomb burst in that mirror upstairs. And the lingerie.

Her last image was of Chantal out by the pool that morning when the woman had insisted on a refresher on her lemonade.

At the time, the fact that she had been wearing a silk wrap hadnt seemed especially significant. But now . . .

Shed been pregnant and just starting to show. Which was why she had asked for a virgin" no alcohol.

Chantal had been sleeping with William Baldwine. Cheating on the son with the father. And she had become pregnant.

She must have told William, Lizzie thought. After the Derby.

And the man had lost it. And hit her up in that dressing room.

Then he had kicked her out of the house. Or something like that.

Shaking her head, Lizzie put her hands to her hot face and tried to breathe.

Her one and only thought was that she had to make it right with Lane. She had condemned him based on her own fear of being hurt again . . .

. . . when in reality there was a very, very strong possibility that, in fact, hed had nothing to do with any of it.

{ 412 }.

Dropping her arms, she knew words were not going to be enough.

Not for this one.

When the solution came to her, she checked her watch. If she hurried . . .

Breaking out into a run, she flashed through the kitchen, and Miss Aurora looked up from the stove.

Where you going? the woman asked. Whats on fire?

Lizzie skidded into the door out to the garages. Ive got to go to Indiana. If you see Lane, tell him Im coming back. Im coming back!

{ 413 }.

FIF T Y.

I t was actually pretty nice out here, Lane thought as he took a seat in the garden.

Looking around at the ivy- covered walls and the orderly flower beds, across the sparkling blue pool and the French doors of the business center, he imagined all the work that it took to maintain this natural beauty.

It was impossible not to picture Lizzie out here, but he shut that down quick.

No reason to bother with those kinds of things.

Bowing his head, he rubbed his eyes. Samuel T. had called about the situation with Chantal, and he knew he had to call the guy back. Mitch had also left a message, likely about the preliminary results of the au- topsy. And meanwhile, up on the second floor, Jeff was going through all the financial stuff.

There were funeral arrangements to be made.

He had no energy to deal with any of it.

Damn it, Miss Aurora, he thought. Let me go. Just let me get out of this.

He loved that woman so much. He owed her even more. And yet { 414 }.

even with his momma kicking him in the can, he just wasnt in this fight anymore.

Raising his eyes to Easterlys incredible white expanse, he stared at the mansion as a real estate appraiser would. Sutton Smythes mortgage notwithstanding, they could probably clear most of the debt with Pros- pect Trust by a sale of the place.

Hell, with his father dead, maybe he could just go to Sutton and ask her not to send the money and rip up that mortgage?

Edward, he thought. He would send Edward to do that one.

Or maybe not. Maybe he would simply let it all go.

Maybe instead of trying to fly this broken aircraft they were all in, he would let the goddamn thing crash into a mountainside.

He might die a coward who had let his momma down, but at least it would be over with faster than trying to yank at the controls and at- tempt to land on some airstrip far, far below"

Lane?

He closed his eyes. Great. He was starting to hallucinate.

Like Lizzie would actually come find"

Lane?

Jerking around on the stone bench, he saw that . . . well, hypotheti- cally, he saw that she was standing a couple feet away from him.

And what do you know, in the light of the very late afternoon, she was as beautiful as she had always been. Natural, lovely, with her bright blue eyes and her sun- streaked hair, and that Easterly uniform that really shouldnt have been sexy, but which was on her.

Lane, can I talk to you?

He cleared his throat. Sat up straight like a man.

Apparently, he hadnt imagined this.

Yes, of course. What do you need? If its a reference, Ill have the butler"

Im sorry. As her voice cracked, she took a shuddering breath. Im so, so sorry.

What was she".

{ 415 }.

Oh, my father. He shrugged. I guess you overheard something.

Yes, hes gone. Funeral in a week. Thanks for the kind words.

Im not talking about that. Although, well, I am sorry that you lost your father. I know that wasnt a good relationship for you, but its still hard.

Well, I happen to excel at relationships that are not good. Im quite facile with them.

Even to his own ears, his voice sounded fake, the words not ones he would normally use, either.

Edward, he thought numbly. He sounds like Edward.

Lizzie came forward, and then he was more than a little surprised to find her kneeling before him. And she was"

Why are you crying? he asked. Are you all right"

God, how can you ask that? After what I did"

What are you talking about"

In their typical fashion, they were speaking over each other, and because he didnt have the energy left to decipher anything, he shut up in hopes she would do some explaining and clarify things.

I was wrong, she choked out. Im sorry I didnt believe you. About Chantal. I just" I didnt want to get hurt again, and I jumped to conclu- sions, and oh, God, I know your father was the one. I know he was the one. He was the one who hit her, he was the one who got her pregnant.

Im so sorry.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling like rain from her face, landing in the bluegrass at his feet.

Lane blinked. It was all he could"

Jesus, his brain wasnt able to process any of this. He literally couldnt understand what she was saying"

Reaching behind her back, she pulled out something. A sheaf of pa- pers? That was folded in half?

Sorry isnt enough, she said. Ive hurt you too badly for that.

So . . . I need to do something concrete, something to prove that Im really with you, that I love you, and Im . . . Im really with you.

She held the pages out to him. I need to show you, not tell you.

{ 416 }.

Lane shook his head. Lizzie, I dont know what"

Take it, she said.

He did as she asked only because he didnt have the brains to think of a reason not to. Opening the crease, he looked at . . .

A whole bunch of letters. Followed by some numbers.

The second sheet was a map?

Its the deed to my farm, she whispered. I know compared to every- thing you have, its not much. But its all I have in this world.

I dont understand?

With the kind of money problems youre facing, it wont help with that kind of debt. But its worth enough to pay for good lawyers, for people who can help you sort everything out. She tapped the document.

I paid it off yesterday. I dont owe anything on it. And Ive been ap- proached to sell it before. Its good land. Its valuable. And its yours.

His breath left his body.

His heart stopped.

His soul broke in half.

I love you, Lane. Im sorry I doubted you. I feel . . . God, you have no idea how badly I feel. Let me make it up to you the only way I know how. Or . . . throw the papers in my face if you want. I wont blame you.

But I had to do something that mattered. I had to . . . offer you every- thing I am and everything I have"

Lane wasnt aware of reaching for her.

But he knew the moment she was up against his chest.

Wrapping his arms around her, he lost his shit completely, the dam cracking open, everything coming out in sobs.

And Lizzie, with her strong body and her big heart, held him for as long as it took.

Its going to be okay, she told him. I promise you . . . somehow, itll be okay.

When he finally had it together enough to pull back, he had a quick urge to reach between his legs and make sure he was still a guy. But Lizzie didnt seem to care about him being weak.