No Risk Refused

That was the summer when Adair’s fascination with Cam had begun. Because she’d hated him. He’d been a relentless tease, always pulling her curls and calling her “Princess” because she lived in a “castle.” And he’d constantly nagged her to try things she’d never tried before—like climbing over the stone arch.

There were days during that summer when she’d wanted to strangle him.

But strangling hadn’t been on her mind the night of her father’s wedding to Beth Sutherland. Because in the twelve years that had passed, the Sutherlands had changed. Drastically. From annoying, know-it-all ten-year-olds to attractive young men.

What hadn’t changed had been her fascination with Cam. It had flared immediately from the instant he’d arrived at the castle that day.

They weren’t kids on a playdate any more. And while their parents had been pledging their vows beneath the stone arch, her eyes had locked on his, and she’d wanted him in a way that she’d never wanted anyone—or anything. It had thrilled her, terrified her. And it had fueled the fantasy that she’d committed to paper and put into the special metal box that she and her sisters had hidden away in the stone arch.

Lightning flashed again and the thunder roared, instantaneous and deafening, refocusing her thoughts on the present.

Vi whispered in her ear. “This isn’t good.”

Adair had to agree with her aunt. In all her years growing up at the castle, she’d never seen a storm like this one. And it had to happen the day of Rexie Maitland’s wedding rehearsal.

They were so tightly packed in the space that Adair had to crane her neck to meet Rexie’s eyes. Panic was what she saw and she felt an answering surge in herself. Pushing it down, she kept her voice calm and spaced her words to fit in between the claps of thunder. “We should go forward with the rehearsal.”

Not sure how much Rexie heard in the cacophony of sound bombarding them, Adair pursed her lips and pantomimed a kiss. Then she held her breath, willing Rexie to kiss Lawrence and seal the deal. Not for the first time, she wished she had at least a smidgen of the power Macbeth’s witches had.

Thunder cracked so loud Adair was certain the rocks beneath her feet moved. Aunt Vi grabbed her hand and held on hard. Adair kept her gaze on Rexie, her willpower on at full throttle.

Finally, Rexie turned to Lawrence and put her hands on his shoulders to get his attention. A second later, he began to lower his head.

Lightning flashed, so close this time that Adair could smell it, and the ground beneath them shook—enough to tear Rexie out of Lawrence’s arms just before their lips met and thrust her backward into the minister. Adair heard stones tumble from the front of the arch before thunder deafened her.

When the earth stilled again, Adair found herself held tightly in her aunt Vi’s arms, a cello pressed hard against her thigh. Rexie was in her mother’s arms. Not good. Lawrence and Winston had their heads close. The maid of honor had picked up the flower girl and the best man had slumped onto a ledge, his face sheet-white.

When the storm had moved off so that conversation was a possibility, everyone began to talk at once, their voices pitched almost as low as the now-fading thunder. But the main consensus was that the stone arch they were standing under had just been struck by lightning.

Vi was looking at the stones that formed the arch over their heads. “We’re lucky they held, but we should have someone check them.”

Adair figured checking the stone arch was the least of her problems. The biggest one was headed toward her, elbowing her way through the group. When Rexie reached her, she said, “I’m calling off the wedding.” Then she burst into tears.

2

AN HOUR LATER, Adair stepped out of her room and went in search of her aunt. After finally seeing the Maitlands off, she’d spent some time in the shower replaying everything that had happened in her mind, going over the should-have-saids and could-have-dones. Her ex-boyfriend Bax had always criticized her for trying to second-guess herself.

Maybe he’d been right. In the downsizing at her former company, he’d kept his job. She hadn’t.

Pushing that thought out of her mind, she went back to her replay. The shouting match that had occurred after the lightning strike and Rexie’s hysterical announcement had rivaled the storm for intensity. Mr. Maitland had claimed the lightning strike was a sign they should change the venue for the ceremony back to Long Island, which had triggered a fresh eruption of tears from the bride and a yelling match between her parents. Using the noise as a cover, she’d told the groom that he’d better soothe his bride-to-be.

The fact that she’d had to jump-start him had bothered her. If he hadn’t been late for the rehearsal, the storm and the lightning strike wouldn’t have been an issue. But he’d said something to Rexie that had calmed her while she concentrated on the parents.

Before they’d driven away, Rexie had agreed to postpone her decision to cancel the wedding. The men had departed for Long Island but Adair had booked Rexie and Bunny into the Eagle’s Nest, a bed-and-breakfast in the nearby village of Glen Loch, so they could return to the castle in the morning when their nerves had settled to give her their decision. The one thing that Rexie had remained firm on was that if the wedding was going forward, it would be held at Castle MacPherson.

Which was exactly what she wanted, too. Wasn’t it?

And why was that even a question she was thinking about? Of course she wanted the wedding to go forward. What kind of a businesswoman was she? Good ones didn’t sabotage their own business plans.

She just had to keep her focus. But it was hard to ignore that lightning strike, or the fact that it had occurred at the exact moment when Lawrence was about to kiss Rexie and seal the deal.

The moment she stepped out onto the veranda that ran along the back of the house and spotted Vi sitting at a table with an opened bottle of wine and two glasses, some of her tension eased. It didn’t surprise her that her aunt had chosen this place to wait for her. The back of the castle, with its flagstone terraces dropping in levels to the lake, had always been one of Adair’s favorite spots. She noted that the water was calm and stunningly blue, its surface a perfect reflection of the now-cloudless sky overhead. The only reminder of the violent storm was a fading rainbow.

Alba lay sprawled nearby on the flagstones, totally exhausted by the day. Adair could certainly sympathize with the feeling, but her own day had a ways to go. There was a decision to be made.

She joined her aunt and accepted the glass of wine.

Vi clinked her glass to Adair’s. “To a job well done.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

Vi sampled the wine. “You’ve weathered a lightning strike, you’ve calmed down a very upset bride and her parents. And you’ll see to it that more rational minds will prevail in the morning.”

“And what if I’m wrong?”

“Wrong in what way?”

Setting her wine down, Adair reached out and took one of her aunt’s hands. “You know how much I want this wedding to take place on Saturday.”

Vi brought her other hand to cover her niece’s in a gesture that was achingly familiar to Adair.

“Ever since you were a child, whenever you’ve set yourself a goal you’ve achieved it. Not only that, you egged your younger sisters into setting their own goals. Look where they are right now. Piper is working for a famous defense attorney in D.C., and Nell is touring the country on a grant that allows her to teach creative writing classes in disadvantaged schools and at the same time, promote her first children’s story.”

Adair shook her head. “I’m not doing that well in the goal achievement game anymore.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because the first curveball that life threw at me …” She paused and waved her free hand. “I ran away and came back here. I’m not proud of that.”

Vi studied her for a moment. “You’re not your father, Adair. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Perhaps it was, Adair thought. Her aunt had always been able to hit the nail on the head. Perhaps that fear was at the heart of the gnawing anxiety she’d felt ever since she’d left Chicago.

“When your mother, Marianne, died, he did run,” Vi said. “He hid for years, burying himself in his art and his teaching at the college.”

“I’ve never understood him. He met Beth Sutherland when I was nine, the summer that she did her research in the library and we had all those long afternoon playdates with the Sutherland boys. Nell saw Dad kiss her once beneath the stones. We thought they might get married and that we’d all become a family. But then she went back to Chicago and he went back to his painting and we didn’t see any of them again until the wedding seven years ago. And Beth and Dad are so happy now, traveling the world, each pursuing their dreams. Why did they wait?”

“Because they needed to. They had young children to think about, careers to pursue. She came here to do her research shortly after her husband had been found guilty of fraud and sent to prison. His family was wealthy and they tried to sue for custody. She felt that building her career was essential to holding on to her sons. And your father always had his art to return to. They waited for a better time. That’s where you’re different, Adair. You don’t wait for anything.”

Adair blinked. “I don’t?”

Vi laughed. “Good Lord, I can barely keep up with you. You didn’t even have your bags all unpacked when that feature writer from the Times visited us for an interview. I could almost see the lightbulb go on over your head. The very next day you were plotting out a business plan for the castle. And when the article stirred up interest in the legend and Eleanor’s missing sapphires, you had brochures printed to hand out to the tourists who started arriving on the weekends.”

Adair shrugged. “I just capitalized on the buzz the rumors of a missing and possibly priceless collection of gems created. They’ll die down again.”

“The point I’m making is that you didn’t hesitate to capitalize on that buzz to promote the legend surrounding the stones. I’ve never known you to hide, Adair. And while you were showering and changing, I’m betting you marshaled together a strategy for handling Bunny and Rexie tomorrow morning.”

Adair took a sip of her wine. “I think I’ve got that covered. Sure, lightning struck during the rehearsal, but did it do any permanent damage? No. The stone arch is still there. Indestructible. So it still has the power to unite Rexie with the love of her life on Saturday. And that marriage will be just as indestructible.”

“Very nice argument.”

“Yeah. If Lawrence Banes is the love of her life,” Adair said. “He was late to the rehearsal, and it was his schedule that had required it to take place two days before the wedding. Plus, he was texting on his cell instead of trying to support Rexie when she became hysterical after the lightning strike.”

Vi merely met her eyes, saying nothing. It was a ploy that her aunt had used very successfully when she and her sisters had been trying to explain some of the mischief they’d gotten into.

“Okay, maybe he’s just a jerk,” she conceded. “A jerk she’s in love with.”

“Or maybe he’s just as nervous as the bride. When you first explained your business plan to me you defined our role pretty clearly.”

Adair raised a hand, palm out. “Right. We’re not matchmakers or relationship counselors. Our job is to provide the perfect wedding and let the stone arch do its work.”

She rose then and walked to the low stone wall that bordered the veranda. Beyond the gardens she could see the curve of the stone arch. Vi joined her and put an arm around her shoulder. “But? I hear a but in there.”

“I can’t help thinking that’s what the lightning strike was about. I suggested to Rexie that she kiss Lawrence today during the rehearsal to seal the deal. That way she could walk down the aisle on Saturday knowing that she was marrying her true love. But the lightning prevented the kiss. Maybe the power of the stones is working against this wedding.”

Even as she said the words, an image from an old movie filled her mind—a bride running down the aisle. Quickly, she shoved it aside. That kind of thing didn’t happen in real life. Did it? “We really need to pull off this wedding, Aunt Vi.”

Vi gave her a hug. “Then you’re going to find a way to do it. Why don’t you go down to the arch now and think about it while I get started on dinner. Use the power.”

Shoving her hands in her pockets, Adair moved around the veranda’s low wall and started down one of the paths. Gardening wasn’t her thing. She couldn’t even begin to name the plants that bloomed everywhere in profusion.

Except for the roses. And she’d recognized the lilacs and violets earlier in the spring. Gardening was one of her aunt Vi’s talents. Angus One had built the original garden for Eleanor but it had been well tended by their descendants. In fact, all the MacPhersons who’d been born and raised here at the castle had benefitted from a very rich gene pool. Some of them had turned to education. It was one of her great-great-uncles who’d been a cofounder of the nearby Huntleigh College. There were three paintings in the castle that bore Eleanor’s signature. And Angus One was credited with the design of the castle. And he had to have had some serious engineering skills to have pulled off the construction of the stone arch.

Stepping out of the gardens, she crossed the grass verge until she reached the row of chairs they’d placed in front of the stones for the rehearsal. The arch itself was ten feet tall at its center, ten feet long and eight feet wide. The summer the Sutherland triplets had played here, they’d measured it off to the inch.

The boys had been ten that year, she’d been nine and her sisters eight and six. They’d been fascinated by the Sutherlands. Cam in particular had intrigued her. They’d taken turns deciding the games they would play on those long afternoons. And the ones Cam chose had been her favorites. There was always a risk involved, something that made her heart race faster.

His favorite game had been “pirate and treasure.” More than once he’d chosen her as his partner, and together they’d climbed up the cliff face to the west of the castle. Adair’s heart raced just thinking about it. Aunt Vi and her father had always forbidden them to go to the cliffs. But they could hardly admit that to the Sutherlands.

When she realized she was smiling, Adair made herself stop. She hadn’t come here to the stone arch to think about Cam Sutherland. She’d managed not to think about him for years. She hadn’t even seen him since that night after their parents’ wedding, when she and her sisters had come out here with a bottle of champagne to write out their secret fantasies about their ideal fantasy lovers.

She’d written her fantasy about Cam. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her head from the instant her eyes had met his during the ceremony. In that moment of eye contact only, no one else had existed. The intensity of the awareness she’d felt, the depth of it, had been something she’d never experienced before. When he’d asked her to dance later, she’d seen the challenge in his eyes. He’d known the effect he was having on her. But she’d refused the dance, preferring the safety she’d felt in his brother Reid’s arms.

It was only later, with a little help from the champagne, that she’d given full flight to her desire and her fantasy. Just thinking about it made her knees feel so weak that she sank onto the narrow ledge that ran along the side of the arch. Cam spelled trouble for her. And she didn’t kid herself. She’d increased the problem exponentially when she’d written her fantasy down on paper and buried it in the arch.

The whole thing had been her idea, and she’d talked her sisters into doing the same thing. Adair the great planner. In the back of her mind she’d had some idea that if she wrote a fantasy about Reid or Duncan, she could negate what she was feeling for Cam.

Hadn’t worked out. The instant her pen had struck paper, it had all been about Cam and no one but Cam.

Calm down. Adair forced herself to breathe in, breathe out.

You’ve avoided him for years. His job at the CIA has kept him overseas. There’s nothing to worry about.

Except the power of the stones.

And there might be a way to lessen that….

Dropping to her knees, Adair traced her fingers along the base of the arch, trying to find the loose stones that she and her sisters had discovered when they were children. Behind them there was a niche just big enough to hold the metal box they’d used for years. Any fantasy that she’d put into the box could be taken out. Then she just might have less to worry about.

None of the stones were loose.

That couldn’t be. Lowering herself to her stomach, Adair squinted at the stones as she ran her hands along them again. There wasn’t even a crack she could get a finger into.

Had the lightning shifted things?

The sound of Alba’s bell had her scrambling to her feet. Once the dog reached the arch, she wandered around to the side and started pawing at some stones. Adair spotted her aunt as she stepped out of the gardens.

“Find any damage?” Vi called.

“Seems pretty solid.” Adair brushed her hands off on her slacks. And she was going to put that box and the fantasies it contained out of her mind. Why on earth was she obsessing about Cam Sutherland all of a sudden? Avoidance had worked so far, and there wasn’t any reason to think that it wouldn’t continue to work.

Unless you don’t want it to….

Pushing the thought firmly away, Adair stepped out of the stone arch. “I have an idea about how to avoid the runaway bride disaster.”

Vi smiled at her. “I’m all ears.”

“You distract Bunny tomorrow and give me some time alone with Rexie. Maybe she’ll tell me what’s bothering her. I’d like to know what really happened with her first husband that’s making her so nervous about taking a second chance.”

Vi smiled. “I can handle Bunny. She’s very interested in getting the recipe for the scones I served with her herb tea.”

“You never give that recipe out.”

“I won’t this time either, but I have several older versions of it that I can bear to part with.”

Alba’s bell jingled again, and she suddenly appeared around the side of the arch with something in her mouth. The dog dropped what looked like a leather pouch on the ground at their feet.

She and Vi dropped to their knees together. Then Adair picked up the pouch. It was folded like an envelope with another pouch inside of it and another pouch in side of that. “Chinese boxes,” Adair murmured.

But when she opened the last one, all she could do was stare. Inside lay a sapphire earring set in gold. The gem was the size of her thumbnail and it dangled from a link of gold chain.

Vi caught her breath. “Oh, my.”

Oh, my, indeed. Adair recognized it right away. Eleanor Campbell MacPherson was wearing it in the portrait that hung in the main parlor. And Mary Stuart might very well have worn it on the day she was crowned.

But Eleanor’s dowry had been missing for years. The theory was that one of the Anguses had sold it long ago.

With the earring still lying in the palm of her hand, she stood and walked around to the side of the stone arch where Alba had been digging. Sure enough, there was a pile of stones that looked as if they’d shaken loose during the storm.

“Who on earth put this here and why?” Adair breathed.

Alba began to bark. When Adair glanced at her, she saw that the dog wasn’t looking at the loose stones but at the wooded hill that sloped sharply upward beyond the stone arch. Alba continued to bark as she raced to the hedge that separated the gardens from the trees. Adair ran her gaze up the hill, trying to see what was upsetting the dog, but she saw nothing.

“There’s something up there she doesn’t like,” Vi said as she moved past Adair to take the dog’s collar and pat her head.

Even as the dog quieted, Adair scanned the hill again and still saw nothing.

“We’d better get that earring inside and then we’ll have to call your father and let him know,” Vi said.

Adair stared down at the earring and as she did, it seemed to glow. She could have sworn that she felt a warmth in her hands. After all these years, a part of Eleanor’s dowry had shown up. Why now, she couldn’t help but wonder. And why had it been hidden away in the stone arch?

3

Received a call from Mom and A.D. Need our help. Conference call with all three of us at five-thirty?

CAM SUTHERLAND READ the short text from his brother Reid twice. Some things never changed. In spite of the fact that he and his brothers were triplets, there’d always been a pecking order. From the time they were little, if his mom needed something she’d always called on Reid, the oldest. Even now, she used him as her main contact person, and it was his job to relay the information and/or request.

Because his younger brother Duncan had always been studious and a bit shy, he’d always seemed to receive extra attention, too. Not that his mom had a lot to spread around. Her work teaching and her research had always absorbed her. “Absentminded professor” might have been a term coined to describe her. But after their father had been sent to prison, Beth Sutherland’s academic success and her publications had been key to keeping custody of her sons. So from the age of ten, they’d all pitched in.

And they’d fallen into roles. Reid had become the leader and organizer, Duncan had offered ideas and analysis, and it had usually fallen on Cam to carry out the missions. Not that he’d complained. He’d always preferred action over giving advice or orders.

His mother didn’t turn to them very often anymore, but he had no doubt that he would probably get the assignment. His older brother’s new duties in the Secret Service serving on the Vice President’s security detail were keeping Reid very busy, and the last time he’d talked to Duncan, who worked as a profiler in the Behavioral Sciences division of the FBI, he’d been consulting on a case in Montana.

Then with a frown Cam read the text again. His mom and A. D. MacPherson were in Scotland, and if they’d taken the time to call, his best guess was that something was going on at the castle. From what he’d last heard, Viola MacPherson lived alone there now. The image of a tiny, energetic woman popped into his mind. He hadn’t forgotten her scones or her brownies. Except for Christmas and birthday cards, he hadn’t seen Aunt Vi or visited the castle since his mother had married the successful landscape painter seven years ago. That had been his senior year in college and he’d joined the CIA right away. For five years he’d worked a variety of covert operations overseas. He’d enjoyed the travel and the challenge of the assignments, but when an opportunity had presented itself to transfer to the Domestic Operations section in D.C., he’d been ready for a change. He still worked in the field but his assignments tended to be of shorter duration, and as a side benefit he got to work for an old and dear friend.

The last he’d heard, the MacPherson sisters had been as busy as he, his brothers and their parents, and were pursuing career goals. Not that he knew what they were doing exactly. He’d avoided thinking about them for years.

Especially Adair.

He strode to the window of his office, but it wasn’t the scenery that he saw. It was Adair MacPherson’s face. The image of her standing beneath that stone arch during his mother’s wedding to A. D. MacPherson had been popping into his mind lately. It had been a late-fall wedding. He and his brothers had been tied up in classes so they’d booked flights that arrived on the morning of the ceremony and left that evening.