He studied her for a long moment. “Because I know what it’s like to doubt yourself. But I also know what it’s like to want something bad. And you want this. The mural.”
And you… “Maybe things change,” she said.
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But my money is still on you.”
Chapter 9
Hud lived in a 1950s ski lodge about a half mile up the fire road from the parking lot. The resort had abandoned it in the ’80s for a new lodge, so the Kincaids had taken it over and now called it home.
The three-story log building was drafty in the winter, leaked in the spring, and couldn’t be efficiently cooled in the summer. But to Hud and his siblings, the place was the only true family home they’d ever known.
The Kincaid siblings had divided the lodge into four living quarters. Aidan and Lily, and also Hud, were on the bottom floor in two separate suites. Kenna had taken half the second floor, the other half being full of all the crap they’d accumulated over the years. The third story was for the marrieds Gray and Penny, and the rest of them tried real hard to ignore the occasional fighting match—and then the squeaking bedsprings that always followed said fighting match.
The weekend had ended and the crowds left Cedar Ridge en masse. Including Bailey, who hadn’t painted over her markings on the wall. Hud was going to take that as a sign that she would be back. He hoped so, which surprised him. There was something about her, something that made him smile, made him think, made him… yearn.
Monday night he and his siblings ate pizza in the open living room. Annihilated might have been a better word. It’d been a Ski for Schools day, meaning that Cedar Ridge cut the price of the ticket by fifty percent and then split the proceeds with the local schools. It was their way of giving back to the schools, and it brought a ton of traffic in. People loved to ski for half off. And the resort more than made up for the lost income in rentals and food. The full house actually gave them a huge boost for the day—and gave them extra income to go toward their debt.
It seemed that just about everyone within five hundred miles had turned out to ski that day.
“Met with the bank today,” Gray said quietly when they’d eaten everything but the cardboard boxes the pizzas had come in.
Penny sighed and slipped her arm around him, setting her head on his shoulder.
“We’ve got nine months before the balloon payment is due,” Gray said. “No extension.”
Kenna opened her mouth.
Gray pointed at her. “Don’t. Don’t say it.”
“But I have buckets of money locked away,” she said. “Because you made me lock it away. It’s worthless to me, dammit. I want you to use it. Why won’t you let me give it to you for this, to save us?”
“I said no,” Gray said firmly, voice flat.
Kenna stared at him. “What-the-fuck-ever,” she finally said, and stormed out, probably to hole up in her room like the hermit she’d become.
“Gray,” Penny said softly.
“No, Pen,” Gray said tightly. “She earned that money with her own blood, sweat, and tears. She’s not using it to bail us out of the mess our asshole dad left us in.”
“But he’s her dad, too, and she wants to be one of you.”
“She is one of us,” Gray said. “She’s our baby sister and we protect her, not use her.” He looked at Aidan and Hud. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Aidan said, and reached out for Lily’s hand. She smiled at him and nodded.
“Agreed,” Hud said just as easily.
Kenna had been a professional snowboarder from the age of fifteen to last year, when she’d crashed and burned, both physically and metaphorically.
She still wasn’t on the people train and had been hiding out here at Cedar Ridge, pouting, playing Candy Crush on her tablet, refusing to answer her phone to any of her old contacts.
When she’d first come home again, Gray had talked her into locking up her winnings and sponsorship loot. He’d deposited it for her—long-term investments—so that she wouldn’t be further weighed down by her own ruthless, self-destructive streak.
It’d been nearly a year now and she was no longer walking around like she might kill the first person to look at her wrong, but she was far from back on track. None of them could stomach the idea of using her money to save their hides when the day could very well come when she might need it.
Gray got a text, something about a computer problem. Shortly after that, Aidan got a search and rescue call. And then Hud got his own call as well, someone on duty at the police station had gotten sick and Hud was needed for the graveyard shift.
And so, on went the week.
By the time Friday came around, he was done in. But that night he worked another cop shift and no sooner had he started than an alarm came in for a burglary call. An eighty-year-old man had called 9-1-1 claiming someone was in his kitchen eating his brand-new raspberry tarts. And he’d been right. There’d been someone in his kitchen eating his raspberry tarts—a three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bear roughly the size of a VW Bug, sitting at the guy’s kitchen island, calm as you please.