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“Oh dear God,” Ashley murmured, seeing the bitterness in Trevor’s features. “Trevor . . . I’m so sorry, so sorry,” she murmured, releasing the hot tears that had burned behind her eyelids and letting them trickle slowly down her face.
“It’s not your fault—”
“But I never believed—I couldn’t face it.”
Gathering strength from the warmth of her body, Trevor let out a long, trembling sigh. “I knew Dad was dead, you know. I just kept hoping that I’d been wrong, that someday he’d show up again. But deep in my heart, I knew.”
The news was too distressing for Ashley. She extricated herself from Trevor’s embrace, walked across the room and stared out the window to the clear, ever-changing waters of the Willamette River.
“I knew that my father wasn’t a warm person. And I might have even gone so far as to say that he was unthinking and therefore unkind. But I never thought of him as cruel or ruthless.” She shook her head and let the tears of pain slide down her cheeks. “There’s not much I can do except make a settlement with those poor victims in Springfield. It won’t bring back the dead, but maybe it will help their children.” Her shoulders stiffened with newfound pride. “And I’ll make sure that Stephens Timber Corporation complies with every government and environmental standard as long as I’m involved,” she promised.
When she walked back toward the bed, Trevor was staring at her, admiring her strength. He captured her wrist and pulled her down on the bed with him before offering kisses born of sorrow and grief.
“Don’t ever leave me,” he begged.
“Never . . . oh, darling.” She kissed him with all the fervor her torn emotions could provide. “It’s all behind us now.”
The telephone rang and Trevor eyed it with disgust. “Go away,” he muttered.
“It’s the private line. You’d better answer it.”
“It could be more bad news.”
She smiled through the sheen of her tears. “Then we’ll face it together.” Hastily brushing her tears aside, she curled against him, feeling more loved and protected than ever.
He frowned and answered the intrusive instrument. “You and that damned recording machine!” Everett blasted. “I hate talking to those things. I just thought I’d better warn you, the press has gotten hold of Claud’s story.”
“I expected as much.”
“Bill Orson is in a near-panic. You know he was pretty tight with Claud and the rest of the timber industry. Orson has already begun amending his stand on the environment and it looks to me that despite everything, you still have a good chance of winning the election. Orson’s been in too tight with Claud Stephens to come out clean on this one.”
“Good.”
There was a stilted silence in the conversation. “You’re still in the running, aren’t you?” Everett asked.
“I’ll let you know tomorrow . . . or maybe next week,” Trevor replied, looking meaningfully at Ashley. “Right now I’m busy, Everett.”
“What the devil?”
“How would you like to be best man at my wedding?”
“Today?”
Trevor laughed aloud. “Very soon, Everett, very soon.” With his final words, he dropped the phone and took Ashley into his arms.
“Everett’s not going to appreciate being treated like that,” she teased.
“I don’t give a damn what Everett appreciates.” Slowly he removed the pins holding her hair at the nape of her neck. “Right now there’s only one person I intend to satisfy.”
“Your constituents wouldn’t like to hear that kind of talk, Senator,” she quipped.
“Oh, I don’t know . . . I think it would improve my image if I were to become a happily married man.”
“So this is just for the sake of the voters?”
“One in particular—she’s very independent, you see.” He unclasped the top button of her blouse. “But that may change once she’s saddled with a husband and a family.”
“A child?” Ashley asked, her breathing becoming irregular.
