Home to Laura

chapter NINE



NICK WAS ABOUT to beard the lion in his den. He drove to the piece of land Gabe had bought with the money Nick had paid him for his share of the Jordan land.

He’d written up a contract that would allow his brothers a portion of the annual profits from the resort. His lawyers had thought he was nuts. So did he. He still refused to look closely at why he’d felt compelled to do it, especially considering how much he disliked Gabe.

Gabe and Callie hadn’t started building yet, but a few trees had been taken down and land marked off for the foundation.

Nick wondered where he was supposed to find his daughter. There was no house. He got out of the car and stood still, listening. Somewhere in the woods there were people talking. He followed that sound.

Pockets of not-yet-melted snow coated the forest floor. In a small clearing, Gabe and Emily fed dogs—at least a couple of dozen of them—fastened to a thick rope that ranged the perimeter. The dogs saw him and barked.

Emily laughed and ran to him. “Dad!”

She flew into his arms and he caught her and grinned. God, he’d missed her. On Friday, he’d made the decision to spend more time with her and had even brought her to Accord, but then Gabe had whisked her away, and Nick had missed her with an ache that had caught him off guard.

He hugged her so hard she squealed. “I can’t breathe.”

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I want you to meet the dogs first.”

“I—” he forestalled, but she was already off and running.

Nick nodded at Gabe and Gabe nodded back, the two of them like a pair of wary dogs.

Emily introduced him to every single dog, all thirty of them. At the last one, she said, “Daisy doesn’t like to be touched. Don’t pet her.”

“Okay.” Nick had wanted a dog when he was a kid. Gabe had said no. His mom had supported Gabe on that, the one and only time she hadn’t given in to Nick. Nick had hated Gabe for deciding what Nick could or couldn’t own, as though he were Nick’s father, for God’s sake. He’d hated even more that his mom had sided with Gabe.

So why did Gabe now own thirty dogs? Obviously, he hadn’t disliked them as Nick had assumed. Nick watched Gabe feed and interact with the dogs. He loved them.

Nick had known about the dogsledding business, but had thought of it as just that—a business. Now, watching Gabe, he understood that it was a labor of love.

Gabe had been watching Nick and approached.

“It was too much work to own one when we were kids.” What? Was the man a freaking mind reader? Or was Nick that transparent? “Plus, we could barely afford food for us, let alone for an animal.”

It made sense and went a small way toward mitigating Nick’s resentment. In that area.

And yet, what about that trunk of toys and cars he owned? Mom had made sure there was money for that. The inconsistencies in his childhood and his memories confounded him.

“Dad, come here,” Emily called. She led him to a large tent, maybe twenty-by-eighteen feet, dirty-white with guy wires extending into the trees.

She opened the front flap and stepped inside. “This is where I slept both nights. It’s what prospectors used to live in when they were panning for gold.”

Nick stared around the rugged interior. A rectangular iron box with a pipe that went through the roof constituted a stove. Kerosene lanterns hung from the ceiling. Rolled-up sleeping bags lined the walls along with blankets, pots and pans, plastic storage containers, winter coats, rubber boots. Rudimentary. Basic.

So why was his daughter so excited?

Nick had provided her with the best—the best—that money could buy and this was what made her happy? Cheated didn’t begin to describe how he felt.

“Let’s go,” he said.

He’d been too brusque. At his tone, her face flattened.

He softened his voice. “On the phone you said you wanted to see the Jordan land. Plus, we have reservations for dinner. We don’t want to be late.”

“Okay.” She seemed somewhat mollified and picked up her knapsack.

They said goodbye to Gabe and drove to the Jordan place.

While they walked, Emily chatted about Gabe’s dogsledding business. Nick had to admit that once you stopped looking at it purely as a business, it had its appeal.

“Uncle Gabe had amazing photographs and videos of the Iditarod.” In March, he’d entered his first dogsledding race. He hadn’t won, but had finished with he and his dogs all in one piece. Apparently, that was an accomplishment.

“Where was Callie today?”

“She’s setting up a home for adults like her mom who have Alzheimer’s and for senior citizens.”

“A long-term-care facility?”

“Yeah. Her mom and a woman named Sophie are already living there. That’s where we all showered.”

Nick hadn’t even thought about how Emily would clean herself at Gabe’s. “You could have come to the B and B.”

“I know, but I liked doing what they were doing. They’ll keep using the showers at the nursing home until their house is built. Callie does a lot of stuff to get the place ready for residents. She’s getting people and businesses to donate furniture. She’s interviewing nurses, but there aren’t a lot around here.”

She should get the town to send some of their high school graduates to school to become nurses on the condition they return to Accord to work, as he’d done with the resort.

“Callie said she really liked your idea of sending kids to college, so she’s trying to convince town council to pay for kids to study nursing.”

Nick smiled. So, Callie had been thinking the same thing. He’d always thought she was a smart businesswoman.

They arrived at the old homestead. There were no protestors or construction workers around today. It looked forlorn and abandoned.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading her around the house and into the woods. Snow coated the ground in shady areas, hanging on by its fingertips until the bitter end of winter. It wouldn’t be long now until it disappeared altogether.

“It’s so pretty here, Dad. I can’t believe you got to hang around in the country when you were a kid. What kinds of games did you and your brothers used to play?”

“We had snowball fights.” He’d remembered that much already during his snowball fight with Emily. He would amend the memory now, though. More often than not, Gabe didn’t join him and Tyler. Nick didn’t know why.

“That’s only one season. What else did you do?”

They had arrived at the only pond on the property. He caught a glimpse of a memory, struggled then managed to bring it into focus. Gabe, of all people, had taught him how to fish.

“We used to fish,” he said.

“What did you catch?” Emily sounded wistful.

“Trout. Brookies because they were easiest, but I think Gabe caught rainbow trout in this pond.” He glanced down at Emily, who stared at the water with such longing that Nick laughed. “Trout need cold water. The pond looks good, but it’s fed by runoff from Luther. It’s icy cold.”

“Luther?”

“Our mountain.”

“Can we walk to it?”

“Yep. We can walk up some of it, too. You need to climb to reach the top, though, with climbing gear. As far as I know, no one climbed it after Dad died.”

They continued their walk until they came to a large clearing. “Judging by photos Callie sent to me, I’d guess this is where Gabe ran his dogsledding business.”

“Wow, it’s pretty. Look at how tall the trees are.”

Sunlight poured through the tops of the trees ringing the clearing, sending streamers of gold to the needle-coated earth. Pinecones crunched beneath their feet.

“These are Rocky Mountain Douglas-firs. We used to have campouts in this clearing. Each of us had our own pup tent.”

“Sounds like fun.”

To Nick’s surprise, yeah, it did. He remembered some good times camping. “One night it rained and we found out how leaky the tents were. We ran to the house and Mom dried us and put us into our beds. It turns out the tents were old hand-me-downs from someone who no longer wanted them.”

“Still,” Emily said, her voice wistful again. “It was an adventure.”

“Yes, it was that.” Had he kept her childhood too safe? Had he robbed her of adventure?

They reached the base of Luther in fifteen minutes, a good hike through the woods.

Twenty minutes later, they had managed to hike a trail partway up Luther. It was cooler up here and snow covered everything.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No. This is awesome. Wow, what a view.”

“I’d forgotten about the view.”

“Dad, I think you forget a lot of things.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re looking at everything like you’ve never seen it before.”

Out of the mouths of babes.

He’d spent too much of his adult years trying to ignore his childhood, trying to squelch memories that had seemed all bad, and yet here he was with good memories trying to break through.

“Is that your land, too?”

Emily pointed to acres of flat farmland on Luther’s far side.

“No. That belongs to Ron Porter. I’m in negotiations with him to buy. He’s playing hardball. He knows his land would complement the downhill skiing. It would be great for cross-country-ski fans.”

“Maybe he just wants to keep farming, Dad. You can’t make people leave their land if they don’t want to.”

Nick blew a raspberry and Emily laughed. “Ron is past ready for retirement. He just wants to make a lot of money when he sells his land.”

“He should. Just like you want to make money from all the people who’ll come here. That’s what people do. That’s all they want. They want to make money.”

Nick would have protested Emily’s cynical tone, but he’d taught her that it was true. That’s all he did. What else had she ever seen him do? Or aspire to? Or plan and plot about?

“Except Uncle Gabe,” she amended. “He wants to do more. He wants to save the environment.”

Saint freaking Gabe. Would Emily ever talk about her own father with that much admiration?

“Come on,” he said, in a funk. “Let’s drive to town. We’re losing the light.”

Dinner was steak and baked potatoes at a steak house across the street from Sweet Temptations.

Despite his best efforts, Nick couldn’t stop staring at the bakery. Someone was working in the back because light spilled from the kitchen through the doorway to the café. Occasionally, a shadow crossed.

Laura? Baking tomorrow’s treats?

He didn’t care.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“I asked you a question three times.”

“Sorry. I was thinking about something.”

Emily’s glance flickered to the bakery and back to him, but something in his face must have warned her not to ask why he was preoccupied with it.

“What were you asking me?”

“How did your meeting with the Native Americans go?”

She was showing an interest in his business? She never had before. But then, it had never been real to her, or immediate, as it was here.

“I found a professor who’s going to work with elders to determine exactly where the migration routes were. Do you remember that young man I spoke to on Saturday? The protestor?”

“The good-looking one? Yeah, I remember.”

She was looking at men? At boys? And judging their looks? Was she old enough for that? Emily, I lost your childhood and already you’re showing signs of moving further along.

“Anyway, his name is Salem Pearce. I asked him whether he wants a job once the resort is built.”

He described his idea for honoring the dead and the local native heritage, and about building something on the land.

“Oh, wow, Dad, that’s awesome. I love that idea.” The admiration Nick had heard in her voice earlier for Gabe now rang for him and it warmed him to a ridiculous degree. “The clearing where Uncle Gabe used to keep his dogs and the tent would be an awesome spot for the building. The trees are so tall and, when it’s quiet, it’s like a cathedral.”

Nick smiled warmly at his daughter. “Good idea, Emily.” What other smart ideas did she have?

“Fancy meeting you two here.”

Tyler approached their table.

Nick nodded. Emily jumped up to hug Ty. “You’ve met Ty?” he asked.

“He came to Gabe and Callie’s for dinner on Saturday night.”

“Dinner? There’s no house.”

“We had it around the campfire.”

Ty laughed. “With heavy jackets on. We started early, but it got cool toward the end of the night.”

“Are you here for dinner?” Nick asked, actually considering inviting him to join them.

“No. I saw you in the window when I passed.”

He was in uniform. “You’re working?”

“Yeah. I don’t usually work evenings, but one of my deputies called in sick. I’ve been on the job since eight this morning. If the night stays quiet, I’ll catch some z’s on the cot in the cell.”

“In the jail cell?” Emily asked.

Ty nodded and laughed. He’d always been the easygoing one, the peacekeeper between authoritarian Gabe and rebellious Nick.

“We’ve finished dinner, but do you want to join us for dessert?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

They ordered apple pie and coffee.

Nick brought him up to speed on the Native American issue. Ty nodded his approval. “Doesn’t sound like there’ll be any trouble I’ll be called out for once you start to build.”

“Don’t think so. The talks have been civilized.” Nick finished his pie and asked, “What’s your impression of Salem Pearce?”

“He’s a real good kid. A man of his word. What’s your impression?”

“Same. I told him I want him to run the Native center once it’s up and running. In fact, I want him to get it going.”

“Good choice. I’ve never had a speck of trouble with him.” He glanced at Emily. “How long are you staying in town?”

“Probably just until the end of the week—just until I get this problem settled and construction headed in the right direction.”

“Aw, Dad. It feels like we just got here.”

“I know, but I left a lot of work behind and who knows what you’re missing at school.”

Before Emily could get a real pout going, Ty said, “I’ve been thinking. My daughter, Ruby, is coming to stay with me for six weeks in the summer, starting end of June.”

Nick had heard about Ruby. It seemed the girl’s mother had kept her existence a secret from Ty until the girl popped up on his doorstep in the middle of a blizzard in January.

“I’d like for Emily and Ruby to meet. After all, they’re first cousins and the same age. As far as I know, Emily is Ruby’s only cousin.”

Emily squealed and pumped the air with her fist. “Yes! Say yes, Dad. Pleeeease.”

Until this weekend, Nick hadn’t known how much Emily craved an extended family. Marsha had been an only child so there were no cousins on that side. Now, there was Ruby.

He hadn’t realized his girl had been starving for family, that he’d been depriving her of something valuable—another mark against him as a father.

How on earth could Nick say no? But that would leave him alone in Seattle when he had finally decided to spend more time with her.

She seemed to read his mind. “Can you take a holiday?” She turned to her uncle. “Can Dad stay with us, too?”

“Of course.”

“That’s not necessary. I can stay at the B and B.”

“Why?” Ty asked.

Good question. Nick didn’t have an answer.

“Come on, Nick. Get your head out of your a—” He glanced at Emily and flushed. “Sorry. I mean, we’re family. I have bedrooms sitting empty. It’s embarrassing to have my brother visit and not stay with me.”

He hadn’t realized Ty would feel that way.

“Okay, how about if Emily and I come for the Fourth of July? How about we arrive a couple of days before?”

Ty grinned. “Sounds like a plan. Ruby will be here by then. We’ll have a barbecue at the ranch. I’ll have Gabe and Callie over, too.”

Ty stood and left but not without another bear hug for Emily.

“The architect and Salem and I are going to look over the land on Wednesday morning,” Nick said to his daughter. “We’ll discuss ideas for the museum. Want to come?”

“Yes!”

Nick smiled, so damn glad he’d brought his daughter with him to Accord.

When they got back to their top-floor suite at the B and B, Nick had Emily call her grandfather. She was on the phone with Mort for a good half an hour. Nick listened to her describe every dog to Mort, as well as every feature of the prospector’s tent.

Nick also heard Mort’s laugh on the other end of the phone. Emily’s call had perked him up. Mort and Emily usually spoke every night. He must be missing his granddaughter.

When they returned to Seattle, Nick had to make a point of having Mort over for dinner, often.

* * *

LAURA WENT TO the house she had been raised in, two blocks behind Main, to pick up her mom for her birthday dinner.

Coming here was still hard more than twenty years after Amber’s death.

Laura’s teenage years had been difficult after that and nothing had brought her comfort until Gabe Jordan had shown her kindness. Missing her baby sister—and her mother and father’s attention—she had lapped up Gabe’s affection as though it were mother’s milk, sunshine and gold all wrapped into one.

Throughout their friendship, though, there had been that mischievous, unruly, troubling attraction to a boy three years younger than her. Nick. Her boyfriend’s brother.

She’d never forgotten Gabe’s kindness and love. To this day, she couldn’t forgive herself for betraying him, even though he had forgiven her and had moved on. She hoped he was happy.

She stepped into the house and called, “Mom, I’m here. Are you ready?”

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

Laura stepped in only as far as the living room, noting that the flowers she and Noah had ordered had arrived—hot-pink gladioli splayed in a fan from a low flat dish.

The style of the room was slightly dated, but elegant, perfect. Like her mother. Mom’s favorite pieces of artwork from the gallery, the ones she bought for herself—she did get first dibs, after all, because she saw the work before anyone else did—hung on the walls, everything from abstract to landscape.

If Laura had eclectic taste in music, her mom did in art.

When Olivia finally came downstairs, dressed in a cream-and-peach two-piece suit, exquisitely designed and perfectly tailored, her eyes and nose were red.

She had obviously tried to hide it with makeup, but Laura knew she’d been crying.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Olivia’s cool, practiced smile couldn’t hide her sorrow. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Laura put a hand on her hip. “Mom. Come on. You’ve been crying.”

Mom’s hand shot to her cheek. “It shows?”

“It shows.”

“I can’t go out.”

“Sure you can. Just give it a minute. We have time before the reservation. We have to wait for Noah, anyway.” She gestured toward the tasteful arrangement of furniture for her mother to sit. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Olivia peered into the antique federal mirror in the hall. “I can’t go out like this. We’ll have to order in.”

She turned to mount the stairs. “I’ll change out of my suit.”

Laura stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Mom, talk to me. What are you trying to avoid telling me?”

Olivia stared at her hand on the banister and seemed to hold her breath, then said, “I don’t want to grow old. I don’t want to celebrate another birthday.”

“We don’t have to go out, then,” Laura said softly. “We can eat in.”

Mom released her breath. “Good. Let’s have pizza.”

“Okay.” Laura watched her mother go upstairs and wondered where all of this worry about aging had come from. Mom had never had a problem with it before.

Too bad. Laura had arrived a few minutes early because she’d wanted to talk to Mom about Saturday night’s disaster. She needed a shoulder to cry on, but it obviously wouldn’t be Olivia’s.

* * *

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, Nick pulled into the yard at the Jordan house with his architect, Mike Canning, in the front seat and Emily in the back.

Two cars were already there—a beat-up old junker and a late-model Honda Civic. Nick imagined the junker belonged to Salem, but who owned the Civic?

Mike and Emily followed him to the veranda. He opened the unlocked door. No sense locking a house that had nothing in it.

Salem’s voice rang out from the kitchen along with throaty feminine laughter that kicked Nick in the gut. What was Laura doing here?

“Salem?” he called.

The young man stepped out of the kitchen with Laura. He smiled. She didn’t.

“I asked Laura to deliver some of her coffee and cinnamon buns. They’re here in the kitchen. My treat.”

“That was generous of you.”

Salem watched Mike with interest.

Nick introduced the two of them. If it was rude to ignore Laura, so be it. She’d done a real number on him in trying to get pregnant without his permission. Sure, he understood revenge, but thirteen years later? That was a long time to hold on to old resentments.

It was petty beyond belief to act on them so many years later, but worse, to act in a way that would alter a man’s life forever.

Mike stepped forward, held out his hand and introduced himself. Laura smiled and took it.

Emily said, “Hi.”

“Sorry, I forgot,” Nick said. “Salem, this is my daughter, Emily.”

“Dad told me all about what you want to do. I love the idea. Can’t wait to see what you and Mr. Canning come up with.”

Salem smiled down at Emily and Nick saw something he couldn’t quite put his finger on—a bonding, maybe? A communion of like minds?

Laura laughed at something Mike said, drawing his attention.

She walked over to Salem. “I have to get back to the bakery.”

“Thanks for bringing the stuff. I’ll come in later to settle the tab.”

“Whenever. Don’t worry about it.”

She kissed him and hugged him and left.

Smiling, Salem turned to Nick, but the smile died on his face. “What?”

“You always hug and kiss the caterer?”

“She’s my cousin.”

She was? “Oh.” He’d had no idea.

“You weren’t friendly with her,” Mike said.

Nick shrugged.

“Is there something I should know?”

“Why would you need to know anything?”

“I’m taking her out to dinner tonight.”

“What?”

“I assume it’s okay for me to eat while I’m here.” Mike’s tone had taken on an edge. “She’s a beautiful woman. I wouldn’t mind her company.”

“Do what you want.”

“I usually do.”

Salem jumped into the breach. “Come into the kitchen. Let’s eat then get out on the land.”

They had coffee and cinnamon buns, both of which were excellent.

Mike and Emily raved about the buns.

“Dad, we so have to get more of these tomorrow.”

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“O-kay. Why are you in a bad mood? You weren’t before we got here.”

“It’s the house.”

Mike watched him, his smile too knowing. He knew that Nick was having trouble dealing with Laura, even if he didn’t know why.

“Let’s get out of here.” An itchiness pulsed in Nick’s limbs as though he needed to run a marathon or go a round in a boxing ring. He needed to get away from Laura’s cinnamon buns and out onto the land.

“Emily had a great idea for a good spot for the museum.” He led them to the clearing where the morning sun slanted onto the forest floor.

Salem’s face lit up. “Here?” he asked in his smooth soft voice. “She was right. It’s perfect.”

“It feels like we’re in a church,” she said. “A cathedral.”

“That has nothing to do with native culture,” he replied, “but I understand perfectly.”

Mike roved the space. “This is beautiful. What do you think, Salem? Wood, brushed steel, plenty of glass so the beauty of the forest becomes a part of the interior space. Round corners. No sharp edges.”

Salem couldn’t stop smiling. “Yeah. How about making it tall, like the pines?”

“Three stories? Okay. How about a column of steel up the center to house an elevator and washrooms, but we’ll cover it with wood so it blends into the forest.”

“Reclaimed wood would be incredible.”

Mike nodded. “I love it. How about self-sufficiency? Solar energy.”

“Yeah. Make everything green. We need large empty spaces for showcasing the culture. It would be great if it was all glass. You know, have everything protected from the elements, but feel like you are outdoors. A full-size tepee in the lobby that we could light up at night would look awesome from both inside and outside.”

Nick felt like a fifth wheel, as though looking in on lovers. He’d done his job. He’d paired the two best people to bring this off.

“Do you two want to come back to Accord to talk ideas? I’ve got the library conference room booked for the week.”

“Good idea.”

“Do you want to ride back with me, Mike?” Salem asked.

“Yeah. Let’s stop at the B and B to get my drawing materials. I’m having ideas already. We can go through sketches together. Nick says you want to incorporate your culture into the design. Should be interesting.”

They’d arrived at their cars.

“See you there,” Nick called and started his rental. Emily climbed into the passenger seat.

Before they’d even turned onto the small highway into town, Emily said, “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“What’s going on between you and the woman from the bakery? You didn’t even introduce me to her.”

He debated what to tell her.

“She lost a baby a few months ago and is angry that I have you.”

“Why should I matter to her?”

“It isn’t something I can discuss with you except to say that it’s ancient history that neither of us seems to be able to get past.”

“Okay.”

She’d accepted the little he’d cared to tell her, but worried her bottom lip all the way into Accord.

* * *

NICK LOOKED FORWARD to another evening with Emily. There would only be one more and then it was back to Seattle and normal life.

He would have to make sure he shaped a new definition of normal. This week was too good, his time with Emily too precious to ever go back to the way things used to be.

Tonight, they were having supper at a family restaurant that catered to all ages, with food that ran to burgers, fries, chicken fingers and onion rings.

They had only just ordered when Nick glanced up at the opening front door.

Laura walked in with Mike. Of all the joints in town, they had to choose the same one as he and Emily? What were the chances?

A slow burn started in his gut. She’d sure fooled him. When he was young, he’d thought her ethical, moral.

When he’d seduced her—she’d been right about that; he believed she would have resisted her attraction to him if he hadn’t pushed it that night—and had Gabe find them, she’d been truly devastated.

So, had she really changed so much over the years that she would use him to get pregnant? The temperature between them had been solar. Had she forced the sex that high that quickly? Or had she been as carried away as he?

Four days later, he was still angry with her and no closer to answers.

Neither of them saw Nick and Emily.

When the waitress brought their food, Nick found Emily watching him.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t talk about it. You’re too young.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. Besides, kids grow up really fast these days.”

Too fast. How to tell a G-rated version? “Years ago, your uncle Gabe was engaged to Laura.”

“The baker.”

Nick nodded. “I was in college when I met your mom. We liked each other immediately and wanted to get married right away. She took me home with her to Seattle to meet her father.”

“Grandpa Mort,” Emily said, sucking her milk shake through a fat straw.

“Yes. Gabe found out I’d left school. To this day, I don’t know how.” He sipped his root beer. “He came to Seattle, found out I was at Grandpa’s office tower and gave me hell in front of Grandpa and your mother. He embarrassed me. Took me back to school like I was a little kid.”

“Uncle Gabe seems more cool than that. Why did he do it?”

“He had this swollen sense of responsibility for me and Tyler. After our father died, he took over the role.”

“It must have been hard. I would miss you so much if you died.”

His daughter would miss him. Her simple statement warmed a corner of his heart. “After Gabe left me at the school, I ran away again and returned to Accord.”

He chewed a mouthful of burger, buying himself time, trying to figure out how to tell Emily what an ass he’d made of himself and of how he’d betrayed a family member.

“And?”

“And...” He swallowed a mouthful of his drink.

“Don’t tell me,” she said, her tone judgmental. “You slept with Laura.”

Nick choked on root beer. He sputtered and coughed. When he could finally speak, he said, “You shouldn’t be talking about things like that.”

“I read. I watch TV. I go on the internet. Sex is everywhere, Dad. I could see where the story was going. You slept with Uncle Gabe’s fiancée to get back at him.”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“That was bad.”

“Very bad. I’m not proud of it.”

“She still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“No. I had thought for a very brief few hours that she had, but I was wrong. She was just biding her time until she stuck it to me.”

“Stuck what to you?”

“She got her revenge.”

“How?”

“That is definitely private.”

“But—”

“Nope. No more talking about it.”

Looking thoughtful, Emily chewed a fry. After swallowing, she said, “Well, I, for one, am really glad you met Mom and married her and had me.”

Nick laughed. How could he not?

He caught Laura watching him. She’d finally realized he was there.

“Let’s blow this pop stand.”

Nick paid for dinner and they left for a walk on Main. Farther down, they found an ice cream parlor and had dessert there.

Nick, for another, was glad he’d married Marsha and fathered this brilliant child.

* * *

EMILY AND NICK were ready to leave on Thursday morning. Much of the work on the resort could be done long-distance. He left Salem and the elders and the professor working with Rene, who would report to Nick regularly on progress.

In the past few days, Nick had managed to organize a dig that would begin in May, through the Colorado Archaeological Society. They would coordinate with Salem, the elders and the professor.

As soon as they figured out where the migratory route was, Rene would dig the foundation for the resort.

All in all, as well as spending quality time with his daughter, he’d got a lot done this week, had tied up a lot of loose ends.

All but one. A big one.

He stormed into Sweet Temptations and approached the counter.

“Is Laura in the back?”

Tilly looked away from the customer she was dealing with and said, “No. She’s gone for the day.”

He left without thanking her. He knew he was being a prick. Too bad. He was in a mood today, anxious to be gone already.

Just at the bottom of the fire escape stairs, a garbage can caught his eye. Colorful fabric hung out from under the lid on one side. It looked a lot like the fabric he’d seen swooping from the ceiling in Laura’s bedroom.

He lifted the lid. The can was crammed with the stuff. Why?

He dropped the lid back onto the can and took the stairs two at a time.

Why would Laura tear down something she’d obviously spent a lot of time and imagination fashioning? Wait. Did it really matter to him?

Nope. It was no concern of his.

But a small niggling part of him still wondered what was going on.

She answered on the second knock. Surprise colored her cheeks.

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone hostile.

“This.” He handed her his business card. “I’ve written my home email address on the back.”

She turned it over and raised one eyebrow. “‘Head honcho’?”

“Emily set it up for me.”

“You should have introduced her to me.”

He might have gotten angrier if she’d shouted, but her reproach was so subtle, and so true, that he deflated. “Yes. I should have. It was rude of me not to.”

“She’s very sweet. Pretty.”

“She’s like Marsha. Her mother.”

She studied the card she held between her hands. “Why are you giving me this?”

“In case you need to contact me. In case...”

“In case I’m pregnant.”

He nodded, one sharp strong jerk of his head. God help her if she was.

“I won’t be.”

“Good.” He left without saying goodbye.

* * *

BACK IN SEATTLE, Nick and Emily took Mort out for dinner on Friday night.

“What have you been doing with your time?” Nick asked.

“Working.”

Good Lord, did that mean Nick would have fires to put out when he returned to work on Monday? Possibly. Probably.

Mort must have read his thoughts because he said, “The company isn’t completely lost without you, you know.”

Nick felt his cheeks heat. He’d been running Mort’s company for so long, and doing it so well, that he’d developed an ego. Nothing like having the owner of the company put him in his place.

“Tell me about Accord.” Mort’s demand was nuanced with envy and wistfulness.

Maybe Nick should have invited Mort to come with them. He hadn’t thought of it. Opening up to Emily had been tough, though, and doing so with Mort would have been strange. They had been business partners for so long, and had spent so many of the great holiday celebrations their wives had planned over the years discussing business, that it was strange to think of him as a friend outside of business.

Emily told him everything that had happened while they had been in Accord for the week. She found an interested audience in Mort.

Maybe Nick should take him there with him the next time he went.

Naw. Rene was capable, and Nick could handle the business from here. There wouldn’t be a next time.

But you promised both Emily and Ty that you would go back for the Fourth of July.

Nick sighed. He’d forgotten. He would be going back to Accord after all, but at least this time it would be for fun.

It wouldn’t be to put out fires or solve problems.

* * *

NICK HAD MORT over to the house for dinner almost every night. He couldn’t stop himself. The man needed people. It seemed that Nick and Emily were all he had left.

The drinking issue, though, came to a head one night.

Mort had been complaining about his wives, and swearing as badly as a trucker, throughout dinner. When Mort dropped the F bomb, Nick said, “Enough,” and sent Emily to her room early.

“Mort,” he said, “you’re drunk as a skunk.”

“So what? What’s the point of staying sober?”

“How about your granddaughter?”

“Emily loves me just the way I am.” Mort sounded stubborn and looked like a little boy.

“Maybe not after tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been cursing like a stevedore all evening. Why would she enjoy that?”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’re so drunk you don’t even realize you’re doing it.”

Mort settled into a blue funk. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ll be even sorrier if you don’t quit drinking.” Nick hated to take a hard line with Mort, but he suspected it might be the only way to help the man. To his surprise, he found he wanted to help.

“I want to see the smart, savvy, sharp man you used to be, not the maudlin cl—” He’d almost said clown, but that was too mean-spirited. He couldn’t say it out loud, not to Mort’s face. “You’re an alcoholic. You need help.”

“The hell I am. I don’t need anyone’s help. I—”

“You’ll get help or you won’t see Emily again.” Nick said it quietly, but the threat thundered through the room.

Mort stared at him slack-jawed. “I love that girl,” he whispered.

“I know. Use her as motivation to get better.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Compassion filled Nick. Mort’s drunkenness was ugly, but underneath it all lay a good man.

“I’ve checked out AA meetings in Seattle,” Nick said. “We can go tomorrow night.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. I’ll go with you.”

Mort’s lips worked and his chin trembled, as though he were controlling the urge to cry. “You must think me an old fool.”

“A fool? No. Lost? Yes.” Nick led Mort to the front door. “You’ve done a lot for me, Mort. A couple of weeks ago, you stopped me from losing my daughter. I owe you a debt.”

“I don’t want your indebtedness.”

“How about my friendship?”

Again Mort’s chin trembled. It took a moment, but then he said, “What time should I be ready tomorrow?”

“Six-thirty. I’ll pick you up.”

Nick drove Mort home in his car and then took a taxi back to the house.

It remained to be seen what would happen with Mort, even with Nick’s help.

Nick ended up accompanying Mort to more AA meetings than he’d originally thought he would have to. In time, Mort came around, but between work and the time Nick carved out to spend with Emily and the stressful nights spent trying to keep Mort sober, Nick began to feel worn-out.

He considered it a labor of love, but it took its toll.

Throughout it all, despite Emily and Mort’s company, Nick developed a loneliness that eased only when he slept. It eased in those hours because they were filled with dreams of Laura.

He awoke angry and frustrated. He didn’t want to think of her, didn’t want to dream about how she looked in her naked glory.

He didn’t want to remember how she felt, or smelled, or kissed, or came to orgasm with a glorious triumphant cry.

Yet, even so, every night he fell into bed exhausted, but filled with hope—because he knew he would dream of her.