“This part here,” Tarron said. “Only love and… mine and thee.We just have to figure out what the ‘and’ part is.”
“Piece of cake.” Alistar’s voice rippled with sarcasm. With desolation. With fear.
Fourteen
T
he house is back there.” Peyton struggled to sitting, blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Carson?”
“Oh, yes. I wanted to check something out first. Something about the curse I was curious about.”
“Yeah, sure.” She grappled for her bearings. The rain had stopped, and it wasn’t dark yet—almost though. “Oh, we must be going to the old tree.”
“You know about the tree?”
“A little. Alistar and I rode on horseback to see it. Before breakfast—” Had it only been yesterday? “I thought one of the branches was going to swing down and kill us where we stood.”
Carson turned down a dirt road that wasn’t really a road. It looked more like a bicycle lane, but it wasn’t paved. Peyton couldn’t tell what direction they were headed. Being directionally challenged wasn’t usually a problem in New York City. She just needed to know the line and whether she needed to go uptown or downtown.
They followed the trail a while until it curved. Carson steered the car into a makeshift parking spot and opened the door. Peyton followed suit on the other side, climbing out and stretching her arms over her head. They were on the backside of the big tree. The ground was wet from the rain earlier, but not saturated. Oddly, there was no breeze. The trees seemed unbelievably quiet compared to the day before.
It was… peaceful.
“Thanks for bringing me here, Carson. It’s nice.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood at the back of the car and opened the trunk.
Peyton walked to the outer edge of the path and peered up at the tree. Gnarled, thick, twisted branches crawled up a wide-based trunk. Leaves drifted down, showing winter would set in before they knew it. What had happened all those years ago, and why was the old elm so tame now? She meandered across the lane, reached out, and placed her hand on the rough bark, gazing up at the highest branch. It was likely no would ever know the complete truth.
The carpet of fall leaves crunched beneath Carson’s feet as he came up behind her, not touching her.
She crossed her arms over her middle. “Did it ever occur to you that our names—Cameron, Carson, Caitlin—all begin with the letterC?”
“I can top that,” he said at her back. “Uncle Robert has two girls too. One is married, the other is in college right now. Their names are Catherine and Carrie.”
She laughed. “Goodness. That’s a lot ofCnames, isn’t it?”
“It is. But you had to ruin it by going off and getting adopted.”
“In my defense, I had no idea.”
“True.” He took her hand.
It didn’t feel like an overture. They were first cousins, after all. She squeezed his fingers.
“Still, the estate is broke. And your parents were quite well off. They left everything to their only child.” He spoke thoughtfully, genially, remotely, and a chill started up her spine, reminding her just how isolated they were.
She let go of his hand and strolled back to the car. She tossed a bright smile over her shoulder. “We should get going. I didn’t eat much for breakfast this morning. Not with all the stunning revelations flying around. I’m starved.”
“In a minute.” He strolled to the rear of the vehicle again.
Peyton waited by the passenger door, then looked down and realized she was standing by the driver’s side. Europeans and their opposite sides. With another soft laugh at herself, her uneasiness soared. “Carson, what are you doing—”
He let out a sigh and stepped into sight. “I’m sorry, Caitlin.”
“I’m not Caitlin,” she said hoarsely, her eyes drawn to the noose that hung from his arm. “Not for years.” She backed away. No sudden moves.
He followed her step for step. “Perhaps not, but”—he shrugged—“without you, the family will survive Uncle Robert’s ridiculous gaming habits. Allow Carrie to complete her studies.”
