Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(72)

"He's wrong," Grace insisted. "I misled him—no, it's more than that, I deceived him." She refused to minimize her role in their separation. If not for her Internet relationship with Will, she suspected she'd be engaged or even married to Cliff by this time.

"How?"

Grace realized there was no help for it. Lisa had a right to know the truth. "I was seeing Cliff and at the same time involved with another man." There it was—the plain and horrible truth.

Lisa gasped. "But that's what my mother did. Now I understand..."

"I know, I know," Grace whispered. Her betrayal had been unforgivable in Cliff's eyes, a repeat of the betrayals he'd endured during his twenty-year marriage. Grace understood that she'd committed the one unpardonable sin and she accepted responsibility for it.

"Are you still involved with this other man?"

Grace shook her head. "It was quite a while ago."

"Then why aren't you seeing Dad?" Lisa finished the first half of her sandwich. Grace hadn't started hers; she put it in her bag to eat later.

She clasped her hands together. "Cliff won't have anything to do with me. I can deal with that now but it's taken me a long time to reach this point. You have a wonderful father, Lisa. Although we aren't part of each other's lives any more, I'll always love him."

Lisa wrapped up the remaining half of her lunch, then crossed her arms and leaned back on the park bench. "I find that interesting, because Dad said almost those identical words to me. That he isn't part of your life anymore but he loves you."

"He loves me? He said that?"

"He was crazy about you when he brought you out to meet me last year—and he still is."

"But..."

"You have to understand my father. He's a complex man. He doesn't give his heart easily, nor does he stop loving someone just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "Look at all the chances he gave my mother."

Grace rejoiced at Lisa's words, but that joy was virtually shattered by Cliff's adamant response. He loved her, despite what she'd done, and yet he refused to forgive her.

"I've tried to reach him," Grace said in a low voice. "I was such a fool and when I discovered the other man intended to stay in his marriage..."

"He was married?"

Grace felt her face heat with humiliation. How easy it had been to rationalize her behavior at the time. Now, it mortified her even more. She had no excuse, no justification to offer, other than her own schoolgirl fantasies.

Lisa took her hand and squeezed it gently. "That explains why Dad's acting this way."

Grace hung her head. "You don't know how much I regret everything."

"I'm sure you do," Lisa said gently. "Still, you bid on my dad in the Dog and Bachelor Auction."

"How did you hear about that?" she asked, surprised that Lisa knew about the charity event.

"From Cal. How much did Dad cost you?"

"Your father was my birthday gift from my friends and my daughters, and they paid a whopping eight hundred dollars."

Lisa let out a low whistle.

"No one paid more for any bachelor."

Lisa grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. "Have you gone on your date already?"

Grace nodded and decided she didn't want to discuss their evening out. There really wasn't much to say, which was depressing in itself. "He sent me flowers afterward," she added sadly

"That sounds like my dad. You're probably the only woman other than my mom and me he ever sent flowers to."

If Lisa was hoping to encourage her, she'd failed miserably.

"How long are you in town?" Grace asked, changing the subject.

"Only until tomorrow—that's why I had to speak to you this afternoon. It was now or never."

"I'm so glad you did."

Lisa sighed. "Dad has your picture in his bedroom. Did you know that?"

Grace shook her head.

"It's on his bedside table. He doesn't know I saw it, but I did. It's one of you and Midnight."

"He probably just forgot to take it down." Grace didn't want to get her hopes up, not after the disappointment of their dinner together, and the fact that she hadn't heard from him after receiving the flowers. "Or," she said dejectedly, "he's just very fond of that horse."

"Well, he is, but that's not why he kept the photo in his room."

Grace remembered the day Cliff had taken the picture. It'd been October and her first trip to his ranch. This was before he'd torn down the old barn and replaced it with the bigger, more modern stable. Cliff had given her the "grand tour," and as they walked around his property, he'd shared his vision of the ranch. He spoke of the improvements he hoped to make, the breeding programs he'd planned to institute. She hadn't understood a lot of it, but she'd felt his passion and his love for horses. That same day, he'd shown her his stallion and then stepped back to take her picture as she stood by the corral fence. At that very moment, Midnight had trotted toward her and poked his head over the top rung, curious about this stranger. Grace had turned to admire him and to stroke his sleek black neck. It was that image Cliff had captured on film. He'd shown her the snapshot, but he must have enlarged and framed it.