“Not until she’s in a fit state. I don’t want her getting agitated.”
“Thanks. If you ever need a cheap vacation, we can set you up here.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.” She shook his hand and then headed out to her car.
He called one of the farmhands over and left the hose with him. That done, he headed over to the farmhouse. Alison’s horse was tied up outside the front door.
Presumably, she was inside somewhere. It was time for them to have a proper conversation. He didn’t just want her to stay here and work, he wanted her to stay here as his Little.
It would be like Jack and Holly. Mixing business and pleasure in just the right way. If she hadn’t changed her mind.
Only one way to find out.
He headed inside. She wasn’t in the lounge or the kitchen. Making his way upstairs, he knocked on her door. No answer. Her case was still inside where she’d left it, her belongings inside. No sign of her in there.
He headed back downstairs. Jack was in the office. “You seen Alison?” he asked, sticking his head in the door.
“Nope, thought she was out riding with you.”
“She was but I had to come back to deal with one of the cows. If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”
“Will do.”
“You haven’t got her cell phone number from the booking, have you?”
“Hang on.” Jack rummaged in a filing cabinet, bringing out a typed sheet of paper. “There you go.”
Marcus picked up the office phone, punching in the number.
“Coffee?” Jack asked, getting to his feet.
Marcus shook his head. He didn’t want anything apart from Alison. A gnawing sense of dread filled him. She wouldn’t just wander off, would she? She had to be somewhere.
She’d brought her horse back and tied it up by the house. She couldn’t have gone far.
The phone connected. “Alison?” Marcus said. “Where are you?”
“Marcus Follett,” a man’s voice replied. “So she was telling the truth. You are at the damned ranch.”
“Derek. Where’s Alison?”
“She doesn’t want to speak to you and I’m not surprised. You’re old enough to be her father, you sick fuck. I thought I told you last time to stay away from her and what do you do?
“Send a ranch brochure through the mail, tempt her into coming to see you. What did you do? Get her drunk, was that it? You’re a dirty old man, Marcus and you need to stay the hell away from this family.”
Marcus gripped the phone so tightly it creaked in his hand. “I want to speak to her.”
“Tough shit. She doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“That’s bullshit. What have you done with her, Derek?”
“I haven’t done anything apart from taking her home where she belongs, ruining my weekend by the way so thanks for that. You couldn’t have kept your hands to yourself, could you? No, that would have been asking too much.”
“Derek, I’m only going to say this once. Put her on the phone right now or I’m coming to get her.”
“Don’t you dare. You’re not welcome here, Marcus.”
He hung up the phone, running out to his car. Heading into town a rush of thoughts ran through his head. Was Derek telling the truth? Was he right? Was he too old for her?
He shook the doubts away. It was bullshit. If she really didn’t want to see him anymore, she would have told him herself. She wouldn’t have agreed to stay. Nor would she have left her luggage behind. There was something dodgy about all of this.
He raced to Derek’s place, memories coming back of the last time he was here, the night he’d walked away from her. He wouldn’t walk away again.
Skidding to a halt, he was out the door before the engine had even died, racing up the path to the door, slamming his fist into it.
“Open up,” he yelled at the top of his voice. “Open up or I swear to God, I’ll break it down.”
The door swung open a moment later. Derek was standing there, looking pale. “I’ll call the police if you don’t leave, Marcus.”
“And tell them what? That you’ve kidnapped your own daughter.”
“He hasn’t kidnapped her,” a voice said behind Derek.
Marcus looked into the house. A woman was standing behind Derek. He recognized her face but where from? “Who are you?” he asked. “Where’s Alison?”
“In here,” Alison shouted from somewhere above them.
“Get out of here before the cops lock you up,” Derek said, slamming the door in his face.
Marcus stepped back, looking up at the next floor. “Up here,” Alison called down, waving from an open window.
She was wearing cute bunny pajamas. She looked adorable. “I’m sorry, Marcus. He dragged me into the car. I tried to fight him but I couldn’t.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No but he won’t let you in. He just keeps telling me it’s a crush and I’ll get over it. Says you’ve warped my mind. I love you, Marcus. I don’t know what to do.”
He looked around him, taking a run up and then grabbing onto the drainpipe, working his way up the wall until he got his fingers onto her windowsill.
He pulled himself through, landing on her thick carpet, barely on his feet before she’d jumped into his arms. “He locked me in,” she said, crying into his shoulder. “I thought I was stuck here.”
“Daddy is here now,” Marcus said. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”
He lifted her into his arms, kicking open her bedroom door. It slammed back, the lock breaking and falling to the floor.
Carrying her downstairs, he found Derek in the hallway, blocking his path. “Put her down,” Derek snapped. “This is kidnapping.”
“I love him,” Alison said. “Why can’t you accept that?”
“Bullshit. You can’t love him. He’s too old.”
“Have you looked at your girlfriend recently, Dad? She’s younger than me.”
“That’s not the point. We’re talking about you, not me.”
“I’m twenty,” the woman said behind his shoulder. “I’m not that young.”
“And I’m twenty-one,” Alison replied, “and capable of making my own decisions. You can be with who you want, why can’t I?”
“Because he’s too old for you. You’ll get your heart broken and I can’t stand knowing that will happen. He’s bad news, Alison.”
“I love her,” Marcus said. “Isn’t that enough for you?”
Alison nodded in agreement. “I love him Dad. I’ve loved him for a long time and this is not your decision, it’s mine. I want your approval but I don’t need it. Please, don’t make this any worse than it already is.”
Derek looked at them both, then his shoulders sagged and he turned away. “Get out of here then,” he said. “And don’t come back.”
“We’ll go,” Marcus said, walking toward the front door. “But I’ll be back for her things and you better not have thrown out so much as a pencil from her room.”