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Dean looked his sister squarely in the eyes and the bitterness she saw in his cold gaze made her shudder. His scowl deepened. “What I mean is that we, you and I don’t know if Brig Chambers is alive or dead!”

Becca drew in a long, steadying breath as she met Dean’s uncompromising stare. Her brother’s harsh words had brought her deepest fear out into the open and she had to press her nails into her palms in order to face what might be the cruel truth.He can’t be dead,she thought wildly, grasping at any glimmer of hope, but fear crawled steadily through her body, making her blood run cold and wrenching her heart so savagely that it seemed to skip a beat in desperation.

She wouldn’t allow the small gleam of hope within her to die. “I think that if Brig had been on the plane, the television station would have known about it.”

“How?”

“From the oil company, I guess.”

“But they’re not talking. Remember?”

“I . . . just don’t think that Brig was on the plane.” Why didn’t she sound convincing?

“But you’re not sure, are you?”

“Oh, God, Dean,” she whispered into her clasped hands. “I’m not sure of anything right now!” As quickly as her words came out, she regretted them. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to snap at you; it’s not your fault,” she confessed wearily. “It’s all so confusing.” Silent tears once again ran down the elegant slopes of her cheeks.

“What are we going to do?” Dean asked, not moving from his haphazard position against the windowsill. Anxious lines of worry creased his tanned brow.

“I don’t know,” Becca admitted as she faced a tragedy she had never before considered.Was it possible? Could Brig really be dead?Her entire body was shaking as she drew her booted feet onto the edge of the couch and tucked her knees under her chin. As her forehead lowered, she closed her eyes to comfort herself. No matter what had happened, she vowed silently to herself that she would find a way to cope with it.

Dean watched his sister until the anger that had been simmering within him began to boil. His fist crashed onto the windowsill in his frustration. “I told you that we should never have gone back to old man Chambers,” he rebuked scornfully. “It was a mistake from the beginning to get involved with that family all over again. Look what a mess we’re in!”

“Not now, Dean,” Becca said wearily. “Let’s not argue about this again.”

“We have to talk about it, Becca.”

“Why? Can’t it wait?”

“No, it can’t wait, especially now. I told you that going back to Jason Chambers was a mistake, and I was certainly right, wasn’t I?”

“I had no choice,” Becca pointed out.“Wehad no choice.”

“Anythingwould have been better than this mess you managed to get us into! What the hell are we going to do now?”

Trying futilely to rise above the argument, Becca attempted to pull the pieces of her patience and shattered poise into place. “For God’s sake, Dean, Jason Chambers is dead! For all we know, other people might have died in that plane and all you can think about is the fact that we owe Jason Chambers some money.”

“Some money?”Dean echoed with a brittle laugh. “I wouldn’t call fifty thousand dollars ‘some money.’”

Becca could feel herself trembling in suppressed fury. “The man isdead,Dean. I don’t understand what you’re worried about—”

“Well, then, I’ll enlighten you, dear sister. If Jason Chambers is dead, we’re in one helluva mess. I don’t pretend to know much about estates and wills or anything that happens when a guy as rich as Jason Chambers kicks the bucket, but any idiot can figure out that all of his assets and liabilities will become part of his estate. You and I and the rest of Starlight Breeding Farm are part of those liabilities.” Dean took off his hat and raked his fingers through the sweaty strands of his strawberry-blond hair. “There’s only one man who is going to benefit by Jason Chambers’ death: his only son, Brig. That is,ifthe bastard is still alive.”

“Dean, don’t . . .” Becca began. She was visibly trembling when she rose from the couch, but in her anger some of the color had returned to her face and a spark of life lightened her pale green eyes.

“Don’t you dare come to the aid of Brig Chambers,” Dean warned. “Any praises you might sing in his behalf would sound a little hollow, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, Dean . . . all of that—”

“That what? Scandal?” Dean suggested ruthlessly.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not? Does the truth hurt too much? Don’t you remember what happened at Sequoia Park?”

“Stop it!” Becca shouted irritably. In a more controlled voice, she continued. “That was a long time ago.”

“Give me a break, will ya, Becca? Brig Chambers nearly destroyed your reputation as a horse breeder, didn’t he? And that doesn’t begin to touch what he did to you personally. Even if your memory conveniently fails you, I’ve still got mine.” Dean wiped a dusty layer of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand before striding to the small refrigerator and withdrawing a cold can of beer. He dropped into a chair, popped the tab of the can, and let the spray of cool white foam cascade down the frosty aluminum. After taking a lengthy swallow, he settled back into the chair and cradled the beer in his hands. His cold eyes impaled his sister, but he managed to control his temper. Calmly, he inquired, “You’re still carrying a torch for that bastard, aren’t you?”