Free Carolina Moon by Nora Roberts Page B

and had gathered and discarded more lovers than most cared to count. Particularly Faith. Yet she managed to project the image of the delicate southern flower with camellia-white skin and the Lavelle blue eyes. Moody blue eyes that could well up with tears on command, and were skilled at making promises she might or might not intend to keep.
    Her first husband had been a wild and handsome boy of eighteen with whom she’d eloped two months before she graduated from high school. She’d loved him with all the passion and capriciousness of youth and had been devastated when he’d left her flat, and broke, less than a year later.
    Not that she let anyone know that. As far as the world was concerned, she’d dumped Bobby Lee Matthews and had come back to Beaux Reves because she’d grown bored playing house.
    Three years later, she’d married an aspiring country-western singer she’d met in a bar. That she had done out of boredom, but she’d stuck it out for two years before she realized Clive had also aspired to live the cheating, beating lyrics of the songs he scribbled in a haze of Budweiser and Marlboros.
    So once again, she was back at Beaux Reves, edgy, dissatisfied, and secretly disgusted with herself.
    She sent Cade a sweet and melting smile when he brought her a glass of wine. “Honey, you look worn out. Why don’t you sit down and put your feet up for a while?” She grabbed his hand, gave it a little tug. “You work too hard.”
    “Anytime you want to pitch in …”
    Her smile sharpened, a blade turned to the keen edge. “Beaux Reves is yours. Papa made that clear all our lives.”
    “Papa’s not here anymore.”
    Faith merely moved one careless shoulder. “Doesn’t change the facts.” She lifted her wine, sipped. She was a lovely woman who took great pains to exploit her beauty. Even now, for an evening at home, she’d added soft color to her cheeks, painted her sensuously wide mouth a poppy pink and had draped herself in a silk blouse and slacks in soft rose.
    “You can change anything you want to change.”
    “I’ve been raised to be decorative, and useless.” She tossed her head, then stretched like a cat. “And I’m so good at it.”
    “You irritate me, Faith.”
    “I’m good at that, too.” Amused, she nudged his leg with her bare foot. “Don’t be cross, Cade. Arguing’s going to spoil my taste for this wine. I’ve already had words with Mama today.”
    “A day doesn’t go by you don’t have words with Mama.”
    “I wouldn’t if she wasn’t so critical of every damn thing. She’s been in a mood most of the day.” Faith’s eyes glittered. “Since Lissy called from town, anyhow.”
    “No point in it. She knew Tory was coming back.”
    “Coming’s different from being. I don’t think she likes the idea of renting the Marsh House to her.”
    “If she doesn’t live there, she’ll just live somewhere else.” Since he was tired, he lay his head back and tried to will the tension of the day out of his neck and shoulders. “She’s back, and it appears she means to stay.”
    “So you did go see her.” Faith drummed her fingers against her thigh. “I thought you would. Duty first for our Cade. Well … What’s she like?”
    “Polite, reserved. Nervous, I think, about being back.” He took a sip of beer. “Attractive.”
    “Attractive? I remember tree-bark hair and knobby knees. Skinny and spooky.”
    He let it pass. Faith tended to pout if a man, even her brother, commented on another woman’s good looks. He wasn’t in the mood for her sulks. “You could make the effort to be nice to her, Faith. Tory wasn’t responsible for what happened to Hope. What’s the point of making her feel as though she were?”
    “Did I say I wasn’t going to be nice to her?” Faith ran her fingers around the rim of her glass, she couldn’t seem to keep them still.
    “I imagine she could use a friend.”
    Faith dropped her hand, and her silky voice went flat. “She was Hope’s