Free Sunshine and the Shadowmaster by Christine Rimmer Page A

to town. After Bathsheba married Oggie, Rory became a wastrel—because of thwarted love, most folks said.
    Over the years, the massive tracts of Drury land had been sold off, parcel by parcel. When Rory died, Lucas and his mother, Norma, had been the only Drurys left. The land was gone, and so was all the money.
    Norma had married Jason Conley, bringing with her to Jason’s house the few fine pieces of furniture she had managed to keep. And now Cecilia Drury’s table held the place of honor in the Conley dining room—while the Conley house and everything in it belonged to Heather, who was a Jones by birth.
    What would cruel old Rory Drury have thought had he known that one day all that was left of his family’s belongings would be owned by the granddaughter of his archenemy, Oggie Jones?
    Heather shook herself. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t sit here on the stairs all night, ruminating on the origins of her furniture. Either she had to get up and knock on that door or go back to bed.
    She put her hand on top of the newel post and pulled herself to her feet.
    And then, from the dark living room to her left, she heard the smallest sound. She held utterly still, not sure really what she had heard.
    No more sounds were forthcoming. But it didn’t matter. She was suddenly sure of where Lucas could be found.
    Her feet whispered across the bare floor as she approached the arch that led into the living room. She saw Lucas sitting in the easy chair in the corner. He’d opened the curtains and run up the shades—so he could look out at the night, she supposed.
    Though he said nothing, she knew he watched her as she went to the end of the couch nearest his chair and sat down, gathering her feet up to the side and wrapping her bare toes in the softness of her robe.
    After she was still, he seemed to watch her for a moment more, then he asked in a voice that sounded vaguely amused, “Worried about me?”
    She sat a little straighter in her corner of the couch. “Yes, I was. A little.”
    â€œOnly a little?”
    â€œAll right. More than a little.” She looked at him levelly—or at least at the shadowed shape of him. She couldn’t see his features very clearly in the dark.
    â€œI’ll survive,” he told her. “I always do. Worry about Mark. He’s the one who needs it.”
    â€œI am. I do.”
    Lucas looked away, toward the front windows. “Candace needs one more day, to get things squared away. And then she’ll be flying into Sacramento. She’ll rent a car from there.”
    â€œAll right.” Heather shifted a little, leaning on the armrest—and wondering why she didn’t say good-night and retreat to her room where she belonged. She’d checked on him and he was all right—or as all right as a man whose only child is missing can be.
    His head swiveled toward her again. “Candace is one hell of a lawyer, you know?”
    She nodded. “I’ve heard that, yes.”
    â€œIf it weren’t for her, I might still be locked up tight in an Arizona penitentiary.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat does that mean, yes? ”
    â€œIt means I’ve heard about...how she defended you.”
    â€œI’ll bet you did. This is North Magdalene, after all, right? And people will talk.”
    She saw no reason to argue with that. “Yes, people will talk.”
    But he wouldn’t let it go. “Small minds in small places.” Now his voice was bitter. “How the hell can you live here?”
    She answered gently and firmly. “I love it here. I would never live anywhere else.”
    He said nothing for a moment. Then he softly sighed,
    â€œI’m sorry. I’m being an ass.”
    She smiled. “It’s okay. You’re entitled. Up to a point.”
    He rested his head on the back of the chair. Silence filled the darkness.
    Heather looked out the window across the room, at the stars