Hidden Talents

practice.
    “What about Franklin's role in things all those years ago?” Serenity asked quietly. “Are you going to tell Roland about that, too?”
    Caleb hesitated. “Probably not. What would be the point? Franklin's got a wife and a son. Grandchildren. They'd all be hurt if the past got thrown in their faces at this stage. And they don't need to know how loyal he still is to his romanticized version of his affair with Patricia.”
    “I wonder why your father never told Roland the name of the man who was having an affair with Patricia.”
    Caleb was quiet for a moment. “He probably figured he was already doing enough damage to the family. There was no need to do more by naming Franklin as Patricia's lover. It wouldn't make any difference, anyway.”
    “And being a Ventress, he was probably too proud to bother trying to justify his affair with Crystal,” Serenity said.
    “Probably.”
    “So he protected Franklin, and that no doubt made Franklin even more resentful,” Serenity said.
    “Why?”
    “It would have made Franklin feel weak. What a mess. He had always resented Gordon, but after Patricia left Ventress Valley because of the scandal, and Franklin saw his own happiness forever doomed, at least to his way of thinking, his bitterness grew worse.”
    “He blamed the fact that she left on my father.”
    “The bottom line,” Serenity said, “is that she probably didn't love him at all. She was unhappy with your father, feeling trapped three thousand miles from the life she knew, so she turned to Franklin for comfort and consolation. But she didn't really love him.”
    “No.”
    “And deep down Franklin must have known that.”
    “Just one more reason why he could never forgive my father.”
    “Or you,” Serenity said.
    “Or me,” Caleb agreed. “But then, that's no big deal. No one else in the family ever forgave me, either.”
    Serenity slanted him a quick glance. His face was still expressionless. “I suppose Franklin reacted so strongly to news of my pictures because he desperately wanted to believe you were Gordon all over again. He wanted to think you were doing what your father had done, that you'd gotten yourself involved with someone who would shame the family. It justified all his bitterness. Verified his belief that you and Gordon were both unworthy of being Ventress heirs.”
    “I suppose so.”
    Serenity sought for a way to change the subject. “Lucky for us you were a championship player on your high school baseball team.” She recalled the rows of trophies in the glass cabinet in his grandfather's house. “You saved our lives with your pitching skills. You must have had a heck of a coach.”
    “My grandfather was my first coach,” Caleb said without inflection.
    Serenity stopped chopping vegetables. “Really? Roland taught you to pitch a baseball?”
    Caleb picked up his wineglass and looked at her. “You know how you keep saying that we all have bits and pieces of other people stuck to us?”
    Serenity touched the griffin that hung on the chain around her throat. “What about it?”
    “I think I'm beginning to see what you mean.”
    “Caleb—”
    “He's not coming tonight, Serenity. I told you that he wouldn't be here. I wish you hadn't gotten your hopes raised.”
    “If he doesn't come tonight, he'll come this weekend. I know he will.”
    Caleb shook his head once, with grave certainty. “No.”
    “I can't believe he would be so rigid and unbending and so stupidly stubborn.”
    “He's a Ventress,” Caleb said.
    “Okay, I'll admit it appears that a talent for that kind of thing does run in your family. I still can't believe he won't have the sense to do what he can to change the past.”
    “Some people don't want the past changed. Take Franklin, for example.”
    The sound of an engine in the driveway shocked Serenity into silence. Her eyes locked with Caleb's.
    “Someone else,” Caleb said gently. “Montrose or Ariadne.”
    “No, I don't think so.” Serenity flung down the towel and raced for the door.
    A blast of cold air hit her like a wave as she stepped out onto the front porch. The glare of headlights blinded her. She put up a hand to shield her eyes so that she could see who was getting out of the car.
    Caleb emerged from the cottage and casually put one hand on her shoulder.
    The car door on the passenger side slammed shut with an air of decisive finality. A tall, broad-shouldered figure stalked forward to stand silhouetted in the lights. It