Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [9]
“You don’t look particularly pleased by the return of your brother, David,” Stephen Henry said with a slight smirk. “Don’t tell me you two are fighting already.”
“Oh, we’re not fighting,” Caleb said easily, and he seemed oddly amused by the tension in the room. “I just surprised him.”
“Is that true, David?”
Rachel watched as her husband swallowed some of the cold-eyed anger that was so unlike him. He managed a stiff smile. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be happy that Caleb has come back to town?”
“Maybe because he’s already putting moves on your wife? You never could hold a girlfriend, could you, David?” Stephen Henry said with his usual malice. “They all seemed to prefer your brother. And you did it on purpose, didn’t you, Caleb, you naughty boy? Always the troublemaker. That’s one thing I’ve cherished about you.”
“Have you?” Caleb said, his low, husky voice at odds with his father’s plummy tones. “I always had the impression that you preferred David.”
“Oh, I’ve never played favorites,” the old man said airily. “You both know that. It’s your own sibling rivalry that’s gotten you in trouble. How long are you staying this time? One day? Two?”
Caleb glanced at his brother. “I thought I’d stick around this time. I have a few things to work out, a few answers I need. I told the bureau that I was taking an extended leave.”
“What would the wars do without you?” David said, sarcastic.
“Rachel, my elder son is a reporter,” Stephen Henry said. “What you might call a war correspondent—he’s always been drawn to death and disaster, and he happened to find the perfect profession—one that allows him to wallow in it. It always followed him like a plague when he was younger, and I must admit life has been a great deal more peaceful with him off somewhere. But of course I welcome both my sons with a full heart.”
At least he didn’t say “fruit of my loins,” which Rachel half expected. But since she was finally being addressed directly she decided not to continue with their polite bantering.
“Why is this the first time I’ve heard of your other son’s existence? You have no photos. David’s never mentioned him.”
“Hush, child,” Stephen Henry said. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”
“I doubt it,” Caleb said.
“The truth is, Caleb never really held still long enough for photographs. And he and David never did get along.” He turned to his younger son. “I would hope you’d both make more of an effort.
I’m an old man—I deserve better than watching my two children fight each other.”
David said nothing, an odd, distant look in his pale blue eyes.
“I don’t have a problem with David,” Caleb said, sounding innocent.
“Then keep your hands off his wife,” Stephen Henry said.
Caleb shot her a quizzical glance. “I’ve barely touched her.”
“Barely?” David echoed, suddenly alert. “Listen, you son of a bitch—”
“That’s your mother you’re calling a bitch, my boy,” Stephen Henry said. “Rachel, dear, would you be kind enough to get me a Scotch and water? You know how I like it—just a splash of Perrier to make me feel virtuous. And get one for the two boys as well. Not the best Scotch—they don’t deserve it. The Glenfiddich will do.”
“I don’t want a drink,” David said.
“You’ll both drink and be civilized about it. Rachel?”
“I really need to get home to Sophie,” she said, desperate to get out of there.
“But David told me Sophie wasn’t home. In fact, she’s with the chief of police. I don’t think we need to worry about her, do you?”
Yes, she did, but she wasn’t going to argue. She rose, reluctantly. Stephen Henry always had the tendency to treat her like “the little woman,” a fact which annoyed her no end, but right then she welcomed a relief from the tension. “Certainly,” she said in a dulcet voice.
“And take your time,” Stephen Henry called after her as