Carolina Moon

up in defeat. “Oh, just let go. I don’t want your ugly old car anyway.”
    “Those won’t work, either. Tears come too easy to you.” But he kissed her cheek. “You can have the car tomorrow, all day and half the night if you want.” He gave her arms an affectionate squeeze, started to step back.
    And saw stars when she kicked his shin.
    “Goddamn it. Jesus Christ.” He shoved her aside, tried to pace off the pain. “You sneaky bitch.”
    “Be glad I didn’t go with my first instinct and use my knee. It was a near thing.” When he leaned over to rub at the sting, she made a leap for the keys still in his hand. She nearly had them, then he pivoted and her forward motion shot her past him and down onto the floor with a thud.
    “Kincade! Faith Ellen!” The voice was a whip snapping on satin. Margaret stood in the doorway, body rigid, face pale. Instantly all movement stopped.
    “Mama.” Cade cleared his throat.
    “I could hear the shouting and the swearing all the way downstairs. As could Judge Purcell, whom I am entertaining this evening. As could Lilah, and the day maid, and the young man who’s just come to take her home.”
    She waited a full beat, for the weight of the impropriety to lie heavy on the shoulders of her children. “Perhaps you feel this sort of behavior is acceptable, but I do not, and do not wish to have guests, servants, and strangers come to believe that I have raised two hyenas in this house.”
    “I apologize.”
    “Make him apologize to me,” Faith demanded, sulking as she rubbed her jarred elbow. “He pushed me down.”
    “I certainly did not. You tripped over your own feet.”
    “He was being cruel and unreasonable.” She had one shot left, Faith calculated, and meant to take it. “All I did was ask, and ask politely, to borrow his car for the evening, and he started calling me names and pushing me around.” She winced, gingerly touching her arm. “I have bruises.”
    “I suspect there was more than a little provocation, but there is no excuse for laying your hands on your sister.”
    “No, ma’am.” Cade acknowledged this with a stiff nod, and the regret that a foolish interlude could be pressed into such cold, implacable lines. “You’re right on both counts. I apologize.”
    “Very well.” Margaret shifted her gaze to Faith’s. “Cade’s property is his to use or lend as he pleases. Now, let that be an end to it.”
    “I just want to get out of this house for a few hours.” Temper spiked, spilling out of her mouth. “He can use the truck just as easy as anything else. All he wants to do is drive someplace dark and quiet so he can grope Tory Bodeen.”
    “That’s pretty talk, Faith,” Cade murmured. “Very attractive.”
    “Well, it’s true. Everyone in town knows the two of you are at each other.”
    Margaret took two steps forward before her control snapped back. “Are you—-do you intend to see Victoria Bodeen tonight?”
    “Yes.”
    “Could you be unaware of my feelings about her?”
    “No, Mama. I’m not unaware of them.”
    “Obviously those feelings don’t matter. The fact that she played a part in your sister’s death, the fact that she is a constant reminder of that loss, mean nothing to you.”
    “I don’t blame her for Hope’s death. I’m sorry that you do, and sorrier that my friendship with her causes you any pain or distress.”
    “Save your sorries,” Margaret said coldly. “Sorry is nothing but an excuse for poor behavior. You may choose to bring that woman into your life, but you will keep her out of mine. Is that understood?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” His voice iced in a direct reflection of hers. “It’s well understood.”
    Without another word, she turned and walked away, her footsteps measured and slow.
    Cade stared after her, wishing he hadn’t seen that one quick flash of grief in her eyes. Wishing he didn’t feel responsible for it. To cut at the guilt, he shot Faith one violent look.
    “Very nice job, as always. Be sure to enjoy your evening.”
    She squeezed her eyes shut as he strode out. There was a hole in her stomach, burned there by her own thoughtlessness. For a moment, she indulged herself, sat and rocked, then she leaped up, dashed toward the stairs. And heard the front door slam.
    “I’m sorry,” she murmured, and sat on the landing. “I didn’t think. I didn’t mean it. Don’t hate me.” She dropped her head on her knees. “I already hate myself.”
    “I hope you’ll pardon