The Renegade (The Rockwell Legacy Book 3)

by Jennifer Bernard

  Thank the goddess for sending me F. Without him, I would have no chance of finding the truth. How can I ever thank him properly?

  Friday, July 1

  Opened up to F about things with Max. He urged me to hang in there. His marriage ended and he still regrets the time he’s missed with his daughter. Of course I don’t want to miss anything with my kids. I wonder how much they see, especially Isabelle. The way she looks at me sometimes, with worry in her eyes… I promised F I’d call him if I needed another pep talk. He’s a good man, he really is. I wish Max could see him as a friend instead of a threat.

  Wednesday, July 20th

  Why didn’t anyone tell me before I had kids how endlessly hilarious they can be? Sometimes I think I could happily be a fly on the wall all day long, buzzing around listening to my children doing funny things. They’re each so different, but one thing they all have in common is a strong will to make their own way in the world. I credit Max with that. They have to be extraordinarily strong to stand up to such a powerful personality as Max.

  My husband.

  Funny how after all this time I still say “Max,” not “my husband.” Of course he is and love him beyond anything. But I’ll never be someone who thinks of myself first as a “wife.” I’ll always be Amanda before any other description. I still think of myself as that girl who didn’t put shoes on the entire summer after second grade. The girl who fished off the side of the Peace Lily until I got too hot and dove in for a cool-off. The girl who assumed I’d spend my twenties backpacking around the world, not raising children.

  I wonder what happened to that other girl, the girl that I was. Where is she? Is she flying free somewhere like Peter Pan, untethered to a physical body? Is she hiding out inside my being, waiting for her moment to burst free?

  Or is she part of me right now, guiding my hand as I build snow mermaids with the kids, whispering in my ear as I come up with games they can play when we get snowed in?

  That’s my hope. It must be Max’s hope too, because that’s the girl he fell in love with. I still see that love in his eyes, but then his gaze will drift away, up to the mountains, or off to a leak that needs fixing or a floor plank that has a spot of rot.

  This lodge needs so much work. Sometimes I wake up in a panic because I feel that it’s caving in on me. It’s going to bury me under a pile of shingles and screws and joists and beams and sheetrock and responsibility and I can’t breathe.

  I keep telling Max that he needs to make it very clear to all of our children that this place, this lodge, this beautiful, unique, wonderful place, is not their burden to bear. If they choose to live here after they grow up, so be it. But if they feel like they have to, that it’s their duty because they’re Rockwells, they’ll be filled with resentment that will poison their souls.

  He disagreed at first, because of how his father raised him. He was told from birth how blessed he was to be born here, and that his life’s work would be to expand it for the sake of the next generation.

  In other words, my own sweet babies.

  Is Kai, with his restless spirit and bright courage, going to stay here in these mountains instead of seeing the world?

  Is Griffin, with his incredible physical gifts and his sensitive soul, never going to find out how far he can challenge himself?

  Is my darling Isabelle, so filled with fire and heart, never going to see what she can do for this world? I see her as a comet blazing across the sky, but if Max has his way, she’ll stay here, where she’s safe.

  Is Jake…oh my dear Jake, I worry about him the most. Because he will always put love first over everything else. Love for his family most of all. They don’t see it, but he’s the glue that holds them all together. He’s the rock. They all rely on him because he makes everyone feel happy about themselves. It’s a gift. We’re lucky to have him in this family, and sometimes I feel greedy, as if we’re hogging him. I want him to share that gift because the world needs it.

  But if Max has his way, Jake will be greeting guests at the lodge until he’s ninety.

  And then there’s Gracie.

  I believe, based on everything that I know, that Gracie will always find her way. She sees things others don’t. I have no explanation for it, but I’ve seen that magic from the very beginning. Would anything make me worry about Gracie?

  Yes. Maybe. Depends on what F and I uncover.

  That’s why I want to know it all now, because I fear the power of secrets. Secrets are sneaky bastards. They lurk in dark corners and jump out when they can do the maximum amount of damage. That’s what I fear. But if F and I succeed, at the very least I’ll have a weapon to wield against the power of the unknown.

  Her head spinning, Isabelle closed the notebook. It was a good thing she was sitting down, because reading her mother’s words was almost like time travel. She felt as if she’d been transported into another time and place completely, and now her own childhood bedroom didn’t feel real anymore, not compared to her mother’s faraway, lost-to-the-past world.

  F.

  Who was F?

  She picked up a previous notebook and fanned through the pages looking for more mentions of “F.” He first appeared about seven months before the accident, but his full name was never written out.

  One thing was for sure. There was no romance going on with F. It clearly wasn’t an affair, although Amanda liked him and thought of him as a very good friend as well as someone she was paying to help her.

  Help her do what, though? Track down some kind of secret, but damn, Amanda was incredibly vague about it. Her investigation was something she didn’t want anyone to know about. Not even Max.

  She snatched up her phone and checked the time. After midnight. She should probably wait until morning. But she was too impatient to wait, so she texted Griffin.

  What was Serena’s father’s name?

  She thought about what Kai had revealed recently about the accident. He’d been in the car with Mom that night. She’d been upset, crying, talking about leaving Max, leaving the lodge, sending for the kids later. She’d talked about meeting someone in town.

  They’d all assumed that Amanda was having an affair with a mystery man—who turned out to be Serena’s missing father.

  But what if it wasn’t like that? If the mysterious “F” was Serena’s father, then they were secretly working together on something, not having an affair.

  Based on those journal entries, Amanda wanted a break from Max, not to leave the family for another man.

  Did it make a difference? She’d love her mother no matter what.

  Yes, Isabelle realized. It did make a difference. Because the truth always did. And because it would matter to Max.

  Her phone dinged with an incoming message.

  Her father’s name was Frank. Why? Coming your way.

  Frank. F. Oh my God. It was definitely him!

  A few seconds later, a tap sounded at her door.

  “Come in,” she called, hoping it was Lyle. She wanted to share all this with him even more than she wanted to share it with her siblings.

  Serena burst through the door, her dark red hair piled on her head, a pencil barely holding it in place. Griffin was right behind her, in sweatpants and a t-shirt worn inside out. Clearly dragged on at the last second.

  “Did you find something about my dad?” Serena plopped next to her, sitting on her heels. “What are all these?”

  “Mom’s journals.” She glanced at Griffin, wondering if he would be upset that she was breaching Mom’s privacy like this. He crouched down and leafed through one of the journals. He glanced up at Isabelle, and they shared a long look of equal parts mourning and affection.

  “And she talked about my father?” Serena peered over Isabelle’s arm at the notebook she still held.

  “I think so. Mom keeps talking about someone with the initial F. It sounds like it could be him, based on what you guys already figured out. But are you sure they were having an affair?”

  “K
ai got that impression from what she said in the car.”

  “Well, according to her journal entries, I don’t think they were. They were investigating something. Was your father some kind of detective?”

  “No, but he was a Jack of all trades. Salesman, clock repairman, fisherman, generally a handy guy. Maybe he offered to help her even though he wasn’t a professional. He was generous that way. He liked to help people, even at his own expense. That’s one of the reasons my mom divorced him. She accused him of putting other people above her.”

  “That would fit with what Mom says in here.” She handed Serena the notebook she’d been combing through.

  Serena drew in a hushed breath as she accepted the journal. “Are you sure? This is so private.”

  “You’re part of the family now. And it’s about your father, so you should see it too. There’s a mention of you, how much he regretted missing time with you.”

  Color swept through Serena’s cheeks and she threw her arms around Isabelle. “Thank you. Thank you. I know this sounds sappy, but it’s Christmas so I’m going say it anyway. The best thing about meeting Griffin is that I now have all these amazing women in my life. You, Nicole, Birdie, Gracie.”

  Griffin cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t that be the second best thing?”

  She laughed and sat back on her heels, wiping tears off her cheeks. “Whatever, love of my life. You know what I mean.” She opened the notebook and read avidly, leafing through the pages for references to F. “Your mother had talent,” she said softly as she paused to admire a sketch.

  Isabelle glanced at Griffin, who reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. Griffin was the most big-brother-ish of her brothers, the one whose shoulder she’d cried on after her first crush dumped her, the one who held them all together after Max kicked Kai out of the house.

  And yet, he’d always had an air of aloneness about him--until he’d met Serena. Now all his quiet shadows were gone. If Mom could see him now, she’d probably cry with sheer happiness.

  “So.” Serena shut the notebook with a snap. “This is absolutely fascinating. You’re right, I see no hint of any affair between them. I’m very happy to know my father wasn’t a home wrecker, especially since the home belonged to you guys. But now I’m dying to know—what the heck were they investigating?”

  “I have no idea,” Isabelle said. “I haven’t found that part yet. My guess is that she never spelled it out in her journals in case we found them.”

  “Well.” Serena adjusted her dark-framed glasses. “Someone should read the rest of these just in case.”

  “I volunteer,” said Isabelle promptly. “I found them, which wasn’t easy.”

  Griffin glanced at her curiously. “Why were you looking for them in the first place? What were you hoping to find?”

  Isabelle bit her lower lip. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe, just…to hear her voice again? To know what she was thinking and feeling?”

  Griffin nodded, then ran a hand across the cover of one of the notebooks. “Mom touched these. She held these and wrote in them and drew in them.”

  “She did.” Isabelle knew just how he felt, that the notebooks still held the magic of Amanda Rockwell.

  “So what did you find?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said you wanted to know what she was feeling. Any surprises?”

  Isabelle cocked her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Actually, yes. I discovered that she was surprisingly happy. All of us wild kids didn’t drive her out of her mind.”

  “Was that Mad Max’s job?” Serena asked wryly.

  “They definitely clashed, but she really loved Max. In a very clear-eyed way, too. And she knew that he loved her. I think it was true romance. It’s not what I expected to find, and I know it sounds crazy.”

  “No,” said Griffin softly. “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Who says true romance even exists—”

  “Me,” Griffin answered firmly, drawing Serena close to him. “And save your arguments, or I’ll play dirty and bring up the billionaire under the mistletoe.”

  Isabelle started to mutter something about Lyle not being a billionaire anymore, but decided to quit while she was ahead.

  26

  After Christmas, Isabelle’s dreams stopped, as abruptly as if they’d never started. Was it because she’d finally delved into her mother’s journals? Maybe so. But she felt almost abandoned, as if the disappearance of the dream had a message—you’re on your own now. Figure it out.

  But how was she supposed to figure it out when Lyle Guero took up so much of her thoughts?

  Now that Tigger was gone, nothing held them back from spending every night together.

  Like the night she tapped at the door of his guesthouse in nothing but a parka and snow boots.

  Somehow she ended up on the edge of the kitchen counter, still in her parka, with Lyle nudging her thighs open.

  He licked her to a screaming orgasm, then plucked her off the counter and planted her feet on the floor. He flattened her over the counter, pushed up her coat and plunged so deep she came again, gasping into the sleeve of her parka.

  She’d never look at that coat the same way again.

  Eventually, when they were both trembling and spent, grinning like giddy fools, she remembered the entire point of this particular visit.

  “Are you helping Jake out with something? He won’t tell me a thing and that never happens.”

  He didn’t answer, focusing on removing the condom from his still engorged penis.

  Why was it so sexy watching a man handle his own private parts, she wondered. There was something kind of forbidden about seeing how he touched himself, even for something as simple as taking off a condom.

  “I assume you’re not answering because you’re sworn to secrecy. Hey, do you have a t-shirt I can wear? I forgot about clothes.”

  “Yeah, a whole drawerful. And you’re right, I won’t answer.”

  “But we just had sex,” she pointed out, poking her head out of his bedroom, naked except for the t-shirt she was unfolding.

  “And I’m very happy about that. Want to go again? I’m ready.”

  He shot her a smoldering glance as she came out in his t-shirt, which hit her mid-thigh.

  “Shouldn’t you be more forthcoming with the woman you’re boning?”

  “I hate that phrase. As if we’re a couple of skeletons.”

  “We are, since you mention it. Just two skeletons with several other systems overlaid, the neuromuscular, the digestive, the—”

  He waved at her to stop. “Are you trying to gross me out until I answer?”

  “It works with my siblings.” She curled up on the couch and drew a throw over her legs.

  “I ain’t your sibling, babe.”

  “Two people who are sleeping together shouldn’t keep secrets,” she said piously. “It could cause problems in their relationship.”

  “Do we have a relationship? I thought you were going with something more fly-by-night than that.” He sat down next to her and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  “Semantics.” She tucked her toes under his thighs and wiggled them against his solid flesh. At the beginning, his sheer size and power had seemed daunting. But no more. Now that she knew him better, she loved it. It appealed to her on a primal level. She trusted him, she realized. Not just theoretically, but bodily. As if her body had a mind of its own, and it chose Lyle.

  Crazy.

  He rested his hand on her thigh and right away warmth spread through her in a slow sweet wave.

  Totally crazy.

  “I’d just like to know what’s going on with my own twin brother. It’s not like him to keep secrets from me.”

  He looked over at her with those cool gray eyes, crystal-clear in their nest of dark lashes. “He’s a grown man. I’m sure he has plenty of secrets.”

  “All men have secrets, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Everyone has something
they’d rather keep to themselves.”

  “But you’re not a twin,” she pointed out. “Twins are different.”

  “Fine.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Then talk to Jake. I won’t be your go-between.”

  “Hmmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering just how far she could push this. “I bet I can pry it out of you at Majestic Lodge. In the hot tub, maybe.”

  “You will not.” With a growl, he tugged her onto his lap. In the process, the t-shirt she’d borrowed rode up, baring her rear end. He spread his warm hand across her ass, igniting another blaze of heat inside her. “Let’s get this all sorted out right now, before we get to Majestic. Do you promise to leave this topic alone?”

  Her heart was tumbling over itself, hammering against her chest. “No way,” she gasped. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

  He gave her a light spank, just sharp enough to send sparks cascading across her skin. “I’m definitely going to tell you everything about how much I want you. How sensual and beautiful you are. I’ll tell you everything about all the things I want to do to you in that hot tub. But that’s it. Nothing about Jake. Are we on the same page here?”

  “Page?” she repeated faintly as he skimmed his hand over her tingling skin. “You mean the page where you tell me everything and I don’t drown you in the hot tub?”

  Another light swat landed on her ass. Why was she going along with this? Why did this feel so delicious, like a teasing game they were playing, a game guaranteed to end with another orgasm?

  “No, I’m talking about the page where you accept that I can’t say anything and also the page where you happen to be naked all weekend long.” He traced the crease between her thighs and her ass with one firm fingertip.

  She moaned and wriggled against his lap. How had he managed to get her from a sleepy zero to a let’s-do-this sixty with just a few touches? “What about skiing?” she gasped.

  “Don’t worry about that. I have a ski pole you can use.” He thrust his hips up against her body, even as they both dissolved into laughter.