Back Where She Belongs

chapter EIGHTEEN



“IT WAS JUST A TAP,” Tara’s mother replied breathlessly. “I wanted to pass...get them to stop, you know? Anyone would have.” Her cool dignity was gone. Her words ran together. “I brushed the bumper...had to swerve so I wouldn’t crash...I was dizzy...I had taken one of my pills. I’d had a gimlet, too. I was so upset from Faye...you have no idea....” She stopped and gave Tara a pleading look, then swallowed. “I pulled over. When they didn’t drive by, I knew something was wrong, like maybe they’d stopped for me, so I ran back and saw the barrier had been bent.”

“You caused the crash,” Tara said softly. “It was you.” She still couldn’t believe it or understand that this shaky, scared confession was coming from the the same dignified, emotionally restrained woman she’d grown up with.

“I called Bill. He told me not to go down there, that I couldn’t help, that he would take care of it, that paramedics would be on their way in seconds. I wasn’t thinking. My head was not clear. Everything was fuzzy. You have to understand.”

Tara’s body rocked back, as if her mother’s words had physically pushed her. “So you drove away? Left them there?” Her mother had abandoned her dead husband and dying daughter. Tara felt dizzy with shock and disappointment. Her mother had hit them and run away.

“Bill was the officer in charge of the scene. That’s how he explained it. What he said was the law. I might cause more injury. He told me that.”

Excuses? That’s all her mother had? She was fuzzy and obeyed Bill Fallon like a child? “How could you?” Tara took quick breaths, fought down the desire to rail at her mother, to shake her, make her see what she’d done.

Get the truth. That was what mattered now. She had to let her mother talk. There would be time for outrage later. “Why were you trying to stop them?” she said finally in a calmer voice. “Why were you so upset that you took drugs and had a drink?”

Her mother stared at her, her face white, gulping for air, as if she might vomit. Joseph stood behind her, his jaw hanging, as horrified as Tara was.

“You need to tell me,” Tara said. “Too much goes unsaid in our house.”

Her mother gulped, but didn’t speak.

“Why were you chasing Dad and Faye? Where were they going?”

“They were coming to see me, weren’t they, Rachel?” The voice from the doorway made them all turn. It was Sean Ryland. His tone had been personal, almost intimate. Dylan stood beside him, eyebrows raised in surprise, too.

Her mother stood and turned to face Sean, not saying a word.

“That’s why you wanted to meet me,” he continued. “They’d learned a secret you wanted kept. You had to beat them to the punch.”

Tara had never heard Sean Ryland speak so gently. “Tell me now, Rachel. What were you afraid I might learn?”

Her mother’s body softened, her gaze, too, looking at Sean. It was as if they were the only two people in the room. They clearly had a relationship that Tara knew nothing about.

“It’s about Faye, isn’t it?” Sean said. “She’s mine.”

Her mother dropped her head and her shoulders sagged before she spoke, her voice low and rough. “There was no use in telling you.”

Tara’s brain stalled. What? Sean was Faye’s father? Her mother had been with Sean? She saw that Dylan was stunned, too.

“How did Faye find out?” Sean asked. “Did you tell her?”

Her mother raised her head, pulled herself together, taking a shuddering breath. “She had tests. Because of Joseph’s genes. She sneaked out hair from Abbott’s brush, replaced his toothbrush with a new one. The results showed that Abbott was not her biological father. She came to me and demanded I tell her who it was.”

“And did you?” Sean asked. “Did you tell her?” Tara could tell he was holding back anger, making a supreme effort for her mother’s sake.

Her mother shook her head, her eyes downcast. “Not at first. I told her those companies are scams, they mix up the tests all the time, but she kept at me and kept at me.” She lifted her anguished gaze to Sean. “I gave in.”

“You cheated on Dad?” Tara blurted.

“We weren’t together at the time. We’d broken up.”

“But Faye was born months after you were married....” Her words trailed off, the answer obvious. Her mother had been pregnant when they married. Another jolt.

“We told everyone she was premature,” her mother said. “We had to say that. Your father’s family...their status...we had no choice.”

“So you and Dad broke up...then you dated Sean?” The words sounded strange to Tara’s ears, felt like hard marbles on her tongue.

“I thought it was over with your father. I was devastated and Sean was kind.”

“Kind?” The word held Sean’s usual bitterness. “I was in love with you, Rachel. And you loved me, too. When Abbott called, you ran to him. You chose money over love.”

“That’s not fair,” she said sharply, head up, her shame diminished for a moment. “You wanted me because he wanted me. You always envied him.”

“That’s not true.” Sean jutted his jaw.

“I chose a life I could count on. You were restless and moody. Abbott knew what he wanted for himself and in a wife. I needed that. I needed a safe place. I grew up in chaos. I wanted security.”

“You didn’t give me a chance,” he said gruffly.

“It was too late, Sean.”

Everything about this moment was surreal to Tara. Revealing this terrible secret, her mother’s voice was more natural and her demeanor more open than Tara had ever seen or heard. But she still didn’t know what had caused that night’s events.

“So Faye told Dad?” Tara guessed.

“No. I made her swear she wouldn’t. Abbott accidentally found the results. The envelope from the genetics company got stuck between two folders Faye gave him at work.”

With a jolt, Tara pictured the address on the envelope in her father’s bloody shirt pocket. CGC Gen was all she’d been able to see. She’d assumed it was some technology firm—Gen part of Generator. Instead it had been Genetics. She remembered the books on his desk on the subject, too.

“Abbott was furious,” Tara’s mother said, her eyes going distant. “On principle. Abbott and his principles. Forget people when there were rules to be followed, a high moral ground to march on. He wanted a divorce. He wanted to destroy everything we’d built, all we’d achieved. Faye tried to calm him down, reassure him that he was still her father, that knowing didn’t change anything.”

Tara remembered the text on her father’s phone.

Nothing changes. Let it go.

“What happened that night, Mom? Before the accident?” Tara asked, dreading what she would hear. Her heart thudded so hard she could hardly hear her mother over the beat.

As if he’d read her mind, Dylan moved beside her and put a warm hand to her back, grounding her. He’d been with her through every trauma in her life, she realized. Even the one he’d caused.

“Abbott wouldn’t let it go. He decided you had to know.” She looked at Sean, who stood still as stone, as if he expected a firing squad to take aim any second. “What was the point? Why cause you pain, too?”

Sean didn’t move or speak, but Tara could feel his anger, his hurt. Her mother must have, too, because her voice went high and desperate. “It was one night forty years ago, Sean. You never asked. We hardly spoke in all those years. You didn’t want to know. Abbott was Faye’s father in all the ways that mattered.”

She turned her gaze back to Tara. “Faye wanted me to go with Abbott to talk to Sean, to make sure they didn’t lose their tempers, destroy the peace they’d come to.” Her mother stopped and took harsh breaths, clearly fighting her emotions.

“I should have gone. I know that now. But I was angry at Faye, hurt that she’d turned against me, that she’d torn us apart at the seams, put my marriage at risk. I told her that she had caused this mess, she would have to live with the consequences.”

Her mother’s eyes flicked from person to person, as if seeking asylum in some face, begging someone to take her side. No one spoke.

“Faye exploded at me. I’d never seen her so angry. She called me selfish and cruel. She said I lied to myself and everyone else, and the lies had ruined my marriage, ruined our family. Such terrible things.” Her mother shook her head. “Then she said she was going with her father to talk to Sean. I told her if she did that, she was no longer my daughter. She’d hurt me so deeply. Don’t you see? She’d betrayed me. She chose her father over me, Sean over me, blamed me for everything.”

Her mother began to cry again. “But she was right. I was selfish and cruel. And I was punished. I killed my husband and almost killed her.”

Tara, Dylan and Joseph stood in shocked silence, while Tara’s mother sobbed quietly in the chair beside a sleeping Faye. Dylan rubbed Tara’s back in slow circles, reminding her that he’d promised to be whatever she needed.

He’d kept that promise from the moment they’d first talked.

He’d helped her investigate the accident and now she knew the truth—all the truth. The accident happened because of confused ideas about love and loyalty—both in her mother and in Matt Sutherland.

There was one final mystery. “Did you empty Dad’s desk of files?” Tara asked.

“I couldn’t find the genetics report. There were papers about the divorce, I knew. I didn’t know what other terrible item was there, so I shredded it all. It had to be gone. It was all a mistake.” Her mother made a wiping gesture with her hands.

Her mother’s behavior horrified Tara. All her decisions had been aimed at hiding, lying, keeping secrets she shouldn’t have, shredding the truth right and left, culminating in running away from the accident she’d caused.

“Wha... Is... Where...am...?”

Faye’s words were a whispered rasp in the silence. They all turned to stare at her. She blinked, looking startled.

“You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident,” Tara said.

Faye touched her throat.

“You’re thirsty! Right.” Tara grabbed the plastic cup of water Rita had placed there for when Faye awoke.

Faye nodded against the pillow, still blinking, still confused.

With shaking fingers, Tara put the straw between her sister’s lips. When she’d finished, Tara set down the cup. “Welcome back. We missed you. All of us.” Tara nodded toward the people now crowded around the bed—Joseph, their mother, Dylan and Sean, the father Faye had barely learned about.

Would she remember the accident? Did she know her father was dead? Would she remember them?

“Baby.” Joseph dropped to his knees beside the bed and grabbed Faye’s hands, pressing them to his mouth. “Do you know me?”

She nodded slowly, as if just awakened from anesthesia. “Jo...seph.”

“And me?” Tara had to ask. “You recognize me?”

“My...sis...ter.” Her eyes moved over all of them. “Mom...?”

Her mother sucked in a breath, then turned and left the room.

“You...here...all...” Faye said, then her eyelids dropped.

“The neurologist said she would sleep a lot at first,” Tara explained. “It’s hard work to stay awake. We should let Joseph have some time.” She motioned for Sean and Dylan to step out with her.

She didn’t know what she would say to her mother. Her feelings were in turmoil. They found her in the hall, pale as a ghost, frozen outside the room the way she’d been when she’d first arrived. “I can’t face her,” she said to Tara. “Not after what I did. I killed her father and left her to die. She’ll never forgive me. She shouldn’t.”

As angry as she was at her mother, Tara thought of Faye’s words. When you love someone, you forgive them. That’s how Faye lived her life. “Faye loves you, Mom,” she said. “She will forgive you. I know that.”

Her mother’s gaze locked on, digging at Tara, testing the truth of her words. Finally she said, “You don’t lie, do you?”

“No.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“You can face her, Rachel,” Sean said. “You have to.”

Tara’s mother’s gaze shifted to meet Sean’s. Something passed between them, something from the past, something they’d shared, and her mother seemed to gather her composure, stand taller, look certain. Turning her gaze to Tara, her mother spoke solemnly, as if the moment with Sean had given her new strength. “Will you take me to the police station, Tara? I have to turn myself in. I should be punished for what I did. It was unforgivable.”

Tara didn’t know what to say to her mother. Her thoughts were jumbled, her feelings confused, most of them harsh. Then she looked at Dylan. His eyes held compassion and tenderness for Tara.

You know how to love, he’d told her. He said he’d admired her efforts to make peace with her mother. He believed in her. It was time she believed in herself. Tara let her own compassion rise to the surface and override her hurt and anger. Her mother had done a terrible thing, but she was willing to answer for it. Tara was proud of her. And, more than that, she loved her. “Faye will forgive you, Mom. And I forgive you, too.” The words rang in Tara’s ears, truer every second that passed.

She forgave her mother for the childhood hurts, the constant criticism, the indifference and for the terrible accident that had devastated their family.

“You do?” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “You forgive me?”

“Yes. That’s what people who love each other do,” she said, glancing at Dylan, her voice about to crack. “They focus on the good. They work around flaws. They don’t walk away.”

“Tara,” Dylan said, so much feeling in his voice her heart seemed to lock in her chest.

“You’re more like your sister than I realized,” her mother said, tears actually sliding down her cheeks. She touched Tara’s hair with shaking fingers. “I’m getting used to this style.” She gave a hesitant smile.

“You’re not turning yourself in to Bill Fallon,” Tara said. “He broke the law urging you to leave the scene. That doesn’t excuse what you did, but it was a factor.” Would her mother go to prison? The thought made Tara’s stomach drop.

“You need to get your attorney on this,” Sean said gruffly. “Make sure you protect your rights. For now, we’ll take you home.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said, looking at him. “About Faye. I’m sorry, Sean. I did what I thought was best.”

“It’s not right what you did. I need time to think it through.”

“Of course,” she said humbly, then turned with Sean toward the elevator. He placed a hand on her back.

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Dylan said, staying with Tara. After the elevator closed on their parents, Dylan turned to her. “I’m so glad Faye’s awake.”

“Me, too. I don’t know if she’ll remember the accident or how it came about, or about her father. She might not know that Dad was killed.”

“What she doesn’t remember, you’ll tell her. You and your mother.”

“There’s a lot to tell. Are you as shocked by all this as I am?” Her head was still spinning.

“I am. I can’t believe your mom and my dad...”

“I know. It explains why they were so frosty to each other when we were growing up. My mom kept that secret all these years. And look what she did to protect it. It’s hard to accept.” She swallowed over a dry throat.

“What you said to her was beautiful,” Dylan said, his eyes warm on her face, almost glowing. “That you forgave her and why.”

“I remembered what you said about me—that I did know how to love. When I looked at you, I felt this rush of love for her, for you. So I said what I said and I believe it.”

“You’re a better person than you were, Tara.”

“And so are you.” Staring into his eyes, she got a start. “You have Faye’s eyes. Yours are smoky, but they’re the same gray-green.”

Dylan smiled. “It makes sense, since she’s my sister. Half sister anyway.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I’m honored. Faye’s a great person. Though it’s still a shock.”

“No kidding. Your father surprised me. He seemed calmer, less angry somehow.”

“Exactly. The way he looked at your mom... His whole demeanor changed. It was like a deep wound had suddenly started to heal.”

“He resented my father for a lot more than buying his company at a rock-bottom price,” Tara said.

“And let that fester inside him all these years.” Dylan shook his head in sad wonder.

“He got trapped in the past,” Tara said, recognizing the experience.

“It happens,” he said with a smile.

“It does,” she said.

“But it doesn’t have to limit us. We can learn from the past, from who we were then and become better. Hell, we can reinterpret the past.”

“Turn suffocating into cozy and nosy to friendly?” She smiled, feeling a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Dylan was right. They’d let themselves get trapped in how they’d been, in the old hurt.

Their eyes met for a long, silent moment. “I sure as hell don’t want to end up like my father.”

“Or me like my mother.”

“We won’t,” he said firmly. He put his hands on her cheeks. “I’ve got to go now, and you’ve got a lot to handle. In a day or two, I want us to talk.”

“I’d like that, too.” Could they possibly try again? Could they forgive each other, trust each other? Could she stay the independent woman she’d worked so hard to become while being with Dylan in Wharton?

Dylan watched her face. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in me telling you not to think this to death, is there?”

She laughed. “It’s scary how well you know me.”

“Scary good, I hope.”

“Very good.” And she hoped he’d know her even better in the future.

* * *

“MAYBE WE SHOULD WAIT,” Dylan’s father said to him, stopping short at the entrance to the hospital. “Maybe tomorrow would be better.”

“It was your idea to come. To support Rachel, remember?”

Faye had been awake for three days. She’d been asking about the accident and Rachel was going to tell her what had happened today.

His father had changed since the revelation that Faye was his daughter. He seemed kinder, more open-hearted than Dylan remembered him, even when he was young.

As a result, the talk about changing Ryland Engineering had gone more smoothly than Dylan had even hoped. It was as if his father’s old resentments, his bitterness, had melted away.

“She’s not going to tell Faye who I am yet,” Sean said. “But if it slips out, I want to be there to back her up.”

Faye hadn’t remembered anything about the accident or the events that had preceded it. Tara had told him the plan was to reveal things gradually, letting Faye adjust in between.

“You think she’ll be ashamed to have me as blood?” Sean turned to Dylan and frowned. “I’m no Wharton. I came up from nothing.”

“Faye doesn’t think like that. She wanted you and Abbott to talk, remember? She wanted her mother to tell the truth.”

“That’s right. Faye’s a good egg. Solid. The best of the bunch over there, I always said.” His father’s face just plain lit up. Dylan felt a tightness in his chest. Seeing his father’s heart expand these past days had restored so much of their old closeness. He would always be grateful to Tara for bringing this about.

His father stopped walking and turned to him. “You’re still my son. That doesn’t change. So don’t you go feeling left out.”

“I don’t, Dad,” he said, hiding his smile.

“And you know I loved your mother....”

“I know that, Dad.”

“Rachel was from a different time in my life. I know I made mistakes. With Rachel. And with your mother.”

This new humility was like a fresh breeze blowing through their relationship. Dylan couldn’t get enough of the positive changes his father was showing. He would always be obstinate, opinionated and moody, but the burden of resentment and regret was lighter every day. “Do you still have feelings for Rachel?” he asked.

His father shot him a look, his face bright pink. “Too much time has passed. We both moved on.”

“Don’t give up before you’ve even tried, Dad.”

Sean seemed to ponder that, his lips twitching with a smile he was fighting.

Dylan intended to take his own advice with Tara. They could shake off the old hurts and start fresh. He planned to tell her so today. Sweat made his hands clammy. He was as nervous as his father.

There were obstacles—geography and career demands topping the list—but that wouldn’t stop them. They were two smart, stubborn people. Why couldn’t they be smart and stubborn when it came to each other?

“You ready?” Dylan said, hitting the elevator button.

“As I’ll ever be.” Determination showed in his face.

Same here.

* * *

“MAYBE IT’S TOO soon,” Tara’s mother said, stopping just past the nurses’ station, making the foil crackle on the plate of Ruthie’s empanadas Judith had insisted her mother bring to Faye to put some meat on her bones. Judith had told Tara her praise of Ruthie’s cooking at Ruby’s had helped convince Ruthie to take the job with the food truck in Tucson, after all.

“Maybe this will set back her healing,” her mother finished.

“She’s asking. She deserves the truth.” Faye had surprised the doctors with the speed of her recovery. Even Rita was impressed.

Her mother turned to her. “I don’t think I can handle it today. She’s been so sweet so far. After this, I don’t know.”

“Trust Faye, Mom. You know the kind of person she is.”

“And now she’ll know the kind of person I am.” Her mother’s face sagged. “So will everyone in town. I’ll never survive the scandal. All my good works will come to nothing because of what I did.”

“That’s not true. Your real friends will stick. Your charity work speaks for you. Your past doesn’t have to define you.” That was her lesson, too.

Since the revelation, her mother had been more open around Tara. She would never smother her with affection or be her best friend, but they were on good terms. They were talking. You take one step, then the next.

“If she doesn’t remember about the divorce lawyer, we don’t need to tell her,” her mother said. “Your father would never have gone through with that once he calmed down.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do. We loved each other, your father and I, no matter what you think. We built a life that worked. We were content.”

“I believe you.” It made Tara sad that her mother had settled for less. Tara would not do that. She wanted to be content, but she also wanted joy and passion, even if it got scary, even if she had to lean back and trust she would be caught.

That Dylan would catch her. The thought of him made her stomach jump and her heart turn over. They were going to talk today. He’d texted her that if his father didn’t lose his nerve, they’d be coming to the hospital to be moral support for her mother.

“We should tell her, Mom. She would want to know. She’ll understand. She knew Dad well. She worked with him every day. Secrets have only hurt this family.” Faye had cried when Tara told her that their father had been killed in the accident, but she’d accepted it bravely, ready to go forward—exactly as she’d handled the difficulties of her therapy.

“I suppose you’re right,” her mother said, giving Tara a new look of respect. “I hope I can be half as brave as Faye when I hear what I’ll be charged with.”

Her mother’s lawyer expected to hear soon from the county prosecutor on what charges he intended to file against her. With the police chief’s behavior mitigating the situation, her mother was likely to get probation and community service. Everyone involved was asking for leniency.

Rachel’s conscience would punish her plenty, along with the good citizens of Wharton. She has friends, Tara reminded herself. Not all the minds in town were small. More and more, Tara was opening her eyes to the good things about Wharton, and the people who lived here. She was letting the imprint fade.

As far as the rest of those involved in the accident, Chief Fallon maintained that he’d removed Tara’s mother from the scene so the investigation could continue. Though he would likely not be charged with anything, Dylan had offered him early retirement, which he was expected to take.

Because everyone wanted leniency, Matt would likely be charged with assault or reckless endangerment, a misdemeanor for which he would likely receive probation.

Jeb had fired him, but Miriam Zeller had made sure his family would be kept on the insurance roster through the baby’s birth. Employees from both Wharton and Ryland had started collections to help the family. Their generosity had made Tara feel even better about the town.

Faye’s survival far outweighed Tara’s anger toward either her mother or Matt for what they’d done.

The meeting with Ryland the day before had gone well. Dylan and Sean had accepted Wharton’s offer of compensation for financial losses due to the false tests, and hadn’t pushed for punitive damages. The feud between the two families seemed to be over for good.

Inside Faye’s room, bouquets and houseplants covered every surface, and bunches of Mylar balloons caught the light in bright flashes. As soon as word had gotten out that Faye was awake, gifts, flowers and cards had flooded in.

Faye was crossing the room using her walker. She stopped and formed a smile, slower than usual, but a Faye smile nonetheless.

“M-Mom...Tara.” She let go of the walker to open her arms for hugs. Their mother went first, holding on tight, eyes squeezed shut.

Then Tara wrapped her arms around Faye, still rail thin. Her fragility set off a pang in Tara’s heart. “You get better every day,” she said, which was true.

Faye made a face and pulled at the hair on one side of her head. It was frizzy. “Not...my hair.”

“I’ll fix it for you. I did your hair while you were sleeping. Did Rita tell you?”

Faye lifted one hand from the walker and wiggled her fingers. The neon polish flashed in the light. “You...do...this?”

“I did.”

“Not...my color.”

“Orange sherbet? Come on. It’s all the rage.”

This time, Faye’s smile filled her face.

“Could you sit down, Faye?” her mother said. She sat in a chair, back straight, hands in her lap. “I need to tell you something.”

Faye considered her mother’s face. “It’s...bad?”

Her mother nodded. “It’s about the accident.”

Faye’s features assumed a resigned look. She’d had to hear plenty of bad news the past few days. She made her way to the recliner, which faced her mother’s chair, and lowered herself onto the seat. “Tell...me.”

“The accident was my fault,” her mother said. “You and I argued that night. You went with your father in his car. I chased after you. I tried to pass, to make you stop, but I bumped the car.”

“You hit...us.” Faye seemed to take a bit to grasp that.

“Yes. That’s right. I hit you.”

“A broken part made the car speed up after Mom bumped you,” Tara added. “That’s why you went over the barrier.”

“I’m so sorry, Faye,” her mother said. “I never meant to hurt you or your father. I was stupid and a coward and selfish like you said, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”

“I’m...alive.... It was...an ac...cident. Don’t talk like that.” She waved her hand in their mother’s direction, her voice firm.

“It’s worse,” her mother said miserably. “I didn’t help you. I didn’t stay with you. I didn’t check on you. And I didn’t tell anyone what I did.”

Faye pondered her mother’s words for a minute, her eyes moving back and forth, sorting it out, making sense of it. Finally she exhaled. “It. Was. An. Accident.” She took care to enunciate each word. “It. Is. Over.”

Tara’s heart bloomed with pride in her sister. Faye was good, kind and forgiving, with a big, big heart. Tara was so grateful she’d always felt her sister’s love.

Their mother stared at Faye. “But it’s not,” her mother said. “It was a hit-and-run. The police might arrest me. I could go to jail.”

Faye’s eyes widened. “No. I’ll...tell them no.”

“She won’t be arrested,” Tara said. “It will likely be probation. Don’t scare her, Mom. You told her what happened. That’s enough.”

“We go from here,” Faye said. “We are...a f-fam’ly.” Faye held out her arms, but her mother shook her head, clearly not feeling worthy of an embrace.

“Go to her, Mom,” Tara said.

Her mother dropped to her knees beside Faye’s chair. Faye put her thin arms around her mother’s narrow shape. Tara looked away to give them some privacy, her throat tight.

After that, Faye sampled the food Judith had sent, and they talked about Faye’s therapy, her upcoming release, and Tara told her about what her father had given them—the bottled ships, the library and the shotgun.

“He thought of us,” Faye said. “In...his...way.”

“I wish I’d talked to him,” Tara said. “Straightened things out.”

“He knew.” Faye tapped the side of her head. “He has your...in...stincts.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” her mother said with her usual archness. “You’re your father’s daughter. Smart and bullheaded.”

Tara smiled, touched by the comparison.

“So...glad...you’re...here,” Faye said to Tara, reaching to pat her hand. “For me...and for Wharton.”

“I’m glad, too,” Tara said. She would consult as long as she was needed, then visit often. Depending on what she and Dylan decided to do, maybe every weekend. “You think Dad would want me working at Wharton?” Tara asked.

Before Faye could answer, her mother said. “Certainly. He waved around your business card at his Kiwanis meeting.”

Tara felt the sting of tears, but fought them back. He was proud of her.

She wished Dylan were here to hear that.

At that moment, he walked through the door, as if conjured by her heart, his father behind him.

Tara stood. So did her mother.

Sean stepped forward and held out a wilted-looking bouquet wrapped in plastic.

“Oh. There’s no place to put them,” her mother said looking around at the clusters of baskets and bouquets.

“They’re for you, Rachel,” Sean said. “Water’s in the bag so they’ll last until you get them home.”

Tara’s mother flushed. “Why, thank you.” She took the flowers, which quivered in her hands, the paper crackling.

“I came in case you wanted me to speak up or explain or whatnot,” he said gravely, watching her closely. “Dylan said you were telling the tale today.”

“Thank you, but we...talked. That’s all for now. Later on...?”

“You tell me where and when and I’ll be there.”

“I will,” her mother said.

Sean stared at Faye, who was watching the exchange with a puzzled expression on her face. “You’re doing better, I can see,” he said. “All of us at Ryland are glad. I always said you were the best of the bunch over there.”

“Thank you,” Faye said.

“It’s good to see you, Faye,” Dylan said, squeezing the hand Faye held out in both of his. “Your sister’s been pretty anxious for you to wake up and give her hell.”

“I will...if you will.” Faye smiled up at him.

Dylan laughed. “It’s a deal.”

“Just what I need—you two ganging up on me,” Tara said, hoping they’d both give her hell until the day she died.

“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to talk to Tara for a bit,” Dylan said to Rachel. “I’ll drive her home, if you could give my dad a lift.”

“Certainly,” Tara’s mother said, startled by the idea. She glanced at Sean, who ducked his head. Tara had never seen him so subdued. Before the settlement meeting, she’d gone into his office and apologized for accusing him of putting the faulty device on her father’s car.

He’d lectured her, as she’d expected, about rudeness and temper tantrums, but when he told her that he missed her father like a brother, tears in his eyes, she was moved.

He’d also told her not to judge her mother too harshly. Not unless you walk a mile in her moccasins.

“Okay with you?” Dylan said to Tara, giving her a look that sent electricity pouring through her.

“Sounds great.” She grinned, not caring how goofy she looked.

He grinned back just as goofily.

Before long they were flying down the highway toward home, neither of them saying much. Dylan had a plan, so she would let it unfold. She felt good beside him. She felt safe, she felt content, she felt right. And when she glanced at him and their eyes met, she felt wanted. So wanted it made her breathless.

When he turned off the highway toward the river, she peered at him. “Don’t tell me your plan includes paintball?”

“Not this time, no.” He parked below the caves and they walked up to the ridge. Dylan sat on top of a picnic table near a wall draped in bougainvillea, the blossoms bright magenta. The fall sun warmed her shoulders; the breeze lifted her hair and sent the earthy smell of the river to her nose. “What’s up?” she asked him.

“I have a business proposition for you,” he said, his smile wide, though he was trying to sound serious.

“Business? Really?” She’d assumed they’d be talking about their relationship. She felt a twinge of disappointment, but she knew better than to assume the worst. She would wait and see, trust the man she loved with all her heart.

“Yes. Ryland Engineering will be restructuring soon. The plan is to break off a research and development division my father will run. That’s where his heart is. He’s happiest behind a drafting table. Victor Lansing will take over for me with full authority over manufacturing.”

“Wow. That is big.”

“I’ll serve as an adviser, but intend to focus on my work with Wharton. So, we could use some help with the transition. Are you interested?”

“It’s intriguing,” she said. “I have to admit. I’ll be working at Wharton Electronics for a while, too. I’d have to do some juggling, but...”

“So, you’ll do it? I should warn you I won’t take no for an answer.”

She loved the look on his face, like he wanted her and her alone. She felt the same about him.

“Just to seal the deal,” he continued, “I’d like to take you on a little Chamber of Commerce tour, give you a fresh look at the town.”

“Okay.”

“Here you can see the natural beauty of this area. It’s a bird sanctuary, a protected river region, popular for paintball wars, rock hopping or making love, depending on your mood.”

“And whether you’ve got vinegar chips and German chocolate cake?”

“Exactly.” He explained that he wanted to add new hiking trails, camping spots and guided tours with an ecological bent.

They returned to Dylan’s car, then drove toward town. He described where new business might be located, possible housing developments, an amphitheater for concerts, more shopping and office parks. Along the way, he pointed out places they’d spent time together—the Egyptian theater, Ruby’s, the bowling alley, the park, the high school.

When he reached the intersection where he would turn toward her house, he said, “That’s it then. I could take you home...unless there’s anything else you’d like to see?” He looked at her, eyes twinkling.

“Actually I heard there’s a golden retriever who does tricks. And a computer-guided telescope for stargazing and a kitchen full of gourmet cookware.”

“I know exactly where you mean. There might even be clean sheets on the bed.”

“Sounds perfect,” she said.

He hadn’t said a word, but she knew that Dylan wanted what she wanted—to be together, to make it work. Her whole body was alive to him, and her heart sang. New confidence filled her. This was right.

She wasn’t walking away. She would work at it and so would he.

They drove to Dylan’s place and went inside. “Golden retriever,” Dylan announced. Tara crouched for European greeting.

“The telescope’s out back, so you’ll have to stick around until the stars come out.”

“I think I can handle that. As long as the sheets are as advertised?”

“If they’re not, I’ll make them so.”

“Then I’m in,” she said, sexy and teasing, but serious, too.

“Me, too. All in.” He pulled her close. “What do you think of the new Wharton?”

“New or old, if you’re in it, it’s fine by me.”

“I love you. I can’t lose you.” He touched her cheek, the contact warming her to her toes. “You’re first in my heart. Whatever I have to do to prove it to you, I’ll do.”

“You already have. You’ve been there for me from the beginning, with a hand at my back, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. You’ve been there for me in all the ways that count.”

“I always wanted to be, Tara.”

“I was afraid if I let myself love you, I’d go back to how I was—lost and insecure and a failure. But I’m not like that anymore. I am better. And I do know how to love. You helped me to see that.”

“Good. Because it’s true.”

“I’m not an easy person. I know that.”

“Easy’s overrated. I need you to keep me on my toes, keep me thinking, challenge me.”

“Tickle your brain?”

“And other parts.” He gave her that look.

She shivered.

“You helped me see that it was time to leave Ryland Engineering. Hell, you practically saved the company.” He paused. “You saved me.” The look in his eyes and the rough emotion in his voice told her how much he loved her. “I was so lonely and I didn’t even know it.”

“Me, too. Until I saw you again and felt like I fit, like I was known...and loved.” Tara swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Let’s face it, I’m never going to love Wharton, but you’re here and my family’s here, and that’s enough for me.”

“Don’t forget the empanadas.”

“How could I? We’ll have to go to Tucson for those, though. Turns out Ruthie’s taking that food truck opportunity.”

“I’ll convince her to leave us the recipe. I’m town manager, after all.”

She laughed, then she got serious. “I’ll be away a lot, you know. Travel can hurt relationships.”

“But you’ll always come home to me. If our love can last ten years, it can last a few hundred miles...or a few thousand.”

“Sometimes the first love is the best love.”

“Who knew?” He leaned in and kissed her, and her entire being rose to meet him. Tara breathed him in. Dylan. Home.

In the background, Duster lumbered toward the bedroom. He knew where they were headed before they did.

* * * * *