by Karen Booth
She had studied up on the Stone brothers. Google was a wonderful thing. Quin, Katie’s husband, had missed a gold medal for skiing by a fraction of a second. She’d seen photos of a laughing Zachary camel racing in Morocco. And as for Farrell, well, he seemed to have been everywhere and done everything. Maybe grief had made it too hard to stay in Maine, or maybe he simply liked the challenge of climbing mountains and flying over glaciers.
“Multilayered,” she muttered. “That’s not an answer.”
“Fine,” he said, sounding grumpy. “I thought it would be fun for you.”
“Wait, what?” As the words penetrated her fog, she frowned. “Since when do I need to have fun?”
“Everybody needs to have fun, Ivy. And I’ve been told that new moms sometimes struggle, because they get overwhelmed with the demands of a baby, and they begin to miss adult interactions.”
“I don’t want you handling me,” Ivy said defensively. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”
His green eyes sparked with irritation. “Of course you are. But I also thought you might be an asset this weekend, because you aren’t part of Stone River Outdoors. I was hoping you could give us a new perspective. We want to do more of these co-op weekends. You can comment on things that Zachary and Quin and Katie and I might not see, because we’re too close to the subject matter. I’d like to hear what you think when it’s all over.”
Shame was not a good feeling. “Oh,” she said stiffly. “Well, that’s different. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”
Her prim assurance made him grin. “No, you’re not. But you’re also probably a little bit curious. So you agreed.”
“I agreed because you’re my boss.”
His face went blank. “I see.” He stood abruptly and headed for the door. “Then forget about it. Katie will handle what needs to be done. I’m sorry to intrude.”
Now she had really done it. “Wait,” she cried. She ran after him and caught him at the door. When she put her hand on his forearm, all the air left her lungs. Until Farrell entered her life, she hadn’t touched a man who wasn’t her husband in over a decade. From what she remembered of the opposite sex, those long-ago college boys hadn’t felt like this.
Farrell’s arm was muscled, warm, strong enough to rescue a woman if she needed rescuing. “I’m sorry,” she said urgently, making herself step back. “You’re right. I was curious, and even though I’m scared, I’m honored that you offered me this opportunity.”
“I don’t want your gratitude,” he snapped. He ran a hand over his face and leaned back against the door. “I don’t understand you, Ivy, but I’m trying. I’m not the enemy here.”
“No,” she said. “You’re not.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” His green-eyed gaze, clear and steady, told her he had pieced together at least some of her truth. On his face, she saw compassion. Kindness. Wariness.
She wanted to… She desperately wanted to tell him everything that had happened to her. But she was so ashamed. “No,” she said. “Not today. Maybe never. But it’s kind of you to ask.”
“I’ll tell you about Sasha,” he said abruptly. “If you ever want to know. Not a quid pro quo. My tragedy is further in the past than yours. I don’t expect you to bare your soul to me.”
Tragedy wasn’t the right word, but she couldn’t explain. “Now,” she said quietly. “Tell me about Sasha now. If you have time.”
Some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed. “I don’t talk about her often. But you’re someone who would understand.”
“Then sit down,” Ivy said. “I’ll behave.”
He touched her cheek with a single fingertip, barely a brushstroke, the flutter of a butterfly wing. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
They had reached some kind of milestone, Ivy realized. She had let down her guard, and Farrell, without her noticing, had slipped into her heart and made a place for himself.
“So how did you meet?” she asked, when they resumed their seats. The fire burned merrily. The room was warm. She saw the giant inhalation and exhalation that lifted his chest and let it fall.
Perhaps to him, the tragedy didn’t seem so long ago after all.
“High school,” Farrell said simply. “Once we realized it was more than puppy love, we knew it was forever. But my father intervened. Sasha’s background wasn’t as privileged as mine. He sent me to school on the West Coast, and he manipulated Sasha’s emotions.”
“What did you do?”
“We waited for each other,” he said simply. “I graduated. We were both twenty-one by then. There was nothing more for my father to destroy. Eventually, she won him over. We had three wonderful years. I look back sometimes and ask myself if they were really as good as I remember.”
“But they were.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze focused on something far away. “They were incredible. Right up until the day she was diagnosed with a rare, aggressive form of breast cancer. She made it eleven months and died holding my hand.”
“I’m so sorry, Farrell.” The idea that he had found such a beautiful love and lost it broke her heart.
He shook his head as if to remove the threads that bound him to the past. “You understand what it’s like. I don’t know if your husband’s death was unexpected or if, like me, you had time to say goodbye. Either way, death sucks. That door slams shut, and no matter how much you try to pry it open, the person on the other side is gone.”
Ivy found herself in a quandary. She could let his assumptions ride. But he was being so wonderfully decent and open and amazingly kind, her lies by omission choked her.
“I do understand. In a way. But my experience was not like yours.”
He grimaced. “Death never is…”
“You lost the great love of your life.”
“Yes. I did.”
She stared down at her lap, unable to face him. “I didn’t,” she whispered. “I’m not grieving like you have all these years.”
* * *
Farrell tried to conceal his shock. What was she saying? Talking about Sasha had not been as painful as he’d expected. Particularly with someone who had been through a similar experience. Since Ivy was recently widowed, he’d wanted to encourage her to open up about her loss. Apparently, he was way off base. Now he was speechless.
Though as he sifted through what he knew of Ivy, hadn’t he guessed there might have been something amiss?
He cleared his throat. “I see.”
“No,” she said. “You don’t. And I can’t explain. But I’m so glad you had someone like Sasha in your life. No matter what happens down the road, no one can take that away from you.”
“I would never betray your confidence,” he said slowly. “It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up inside.”
Her smile was gently mocking. “Psychology 101?”
He thought about it for a moment. “No. Actually, personal experience. I had to see a counselor after Sasha died. I couldn’t deal with the emotions. I’d been brought up to believe that men don’t whine and they sure as hell don’t cry. But I was on the verge of a breakdown, I think. It was Zachary who finally made me go. I owe him a lot. He and Quin, both.”
Suddenly, Dolly’s plaintive cries came through on the monitor. Farrell lurched to his feet, wildly relieved to have an escape route. What in the hell had he started? “She’s awake,” he said. “I should get back to the lab. I’ll let myself out.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, he worked on his project with half of his brain. But the gray matter that was unoccupied kept poking at the Ivy situation.
She isn’t grieving? He knew a bit about denial. All the stages of grief, in fact, were familiar to him. He’d experienced every one of them in varying degrees.
Was Ivy still in shock? Was that it? She’d said in her interview that her husban
d had died a few months ago. That could mean three or six or nine. When Farrell had asked if the baby’s dad had time to know his daughter, Ivy had shut down that conversation quickly.
Fortunately, Katie and Quin were coming over for dinner tonight. If not, Farrell would have been hard-pressed to know what to say to Ivy when he saw her again.
As it was, the evening unfolded naturally. Ivy prepared an incredible meal of beef Stroganoff, spinach salad and homemade bread. Dolly played happily with metal spoons in her high chair while the adults chatted.
Quin seemed particularly taken with the baby. “She’s really sweet and smart,” he said.
Ivy laughed. “And now you’re my new best friend. Praising a woman’s child is a sure way to win points.”
“But it’s true,” Quin protested. “Has she started walking yet?”
“No. It’s not quite time. Possibly in eight or ten weeks. Or later—who knows? I’ve heard everything from eight months to fifteen months.”
Katie helped Ivy dish up the apple pie and ice cream for dessert. “Quin was always ahead of the curve physically. Or so I’ve heard.”
Farrell snorted. “Did he tell you that? I’d take my baby brother’s boasts with a grain of salt. He once broke his wrist falling out of bed. Quin wasn’t exactly a child prodigy when it came to athletics.”
While Quin and Katie squabbled good-naturedly about his childhood exploits, Farrell glanced over at Ivy and caught her watching the other two with a smile on her face.
He was stunned. Why had he ever thought she was not conventionally beautiful? Her face lit up with humor and amusement. The smile altered her serious expression, gave life and energy to her delicate features.
The unexpected transformation left him breathless. He was drawn to her…to Ivy, this complex woman with the prickly exterior. Telling her about Sasha had fulfilled a need he didn’t know he had. Other people always wanted to “make it better.” Ivy simply listened.
As Katie and Quin continued their pretend argument, Ivy joined in, her sharp wit and dry remarks egging them on. Farrell understood suddenly that he was seeing the real woman behind the careful mask.
That very first day in his Portland office, he’d met a fragile female beaten down by life. A person who had hit bottom. A new mother, lost and afraid.
Katie must have seen it, too, and Katie being Katie, she had decided Ivy needed to be Farrell’s new hire. Not for Farrell’s sake, but for Ivy’s.
Who or what had turned Ivy Danby from the glowing, confident girl he suspected she once had been into a frightened shadow of herself?
He had a suspicion or two. Both of which made him sick to his stomach. But before he jumped to any conclusions, he would have to get Ivy to trust him. She was growing more comfortable day by day. There was time.
But what was he going to do about the other? The reluctant attraction? He suspected it went both ways, but he couldn’t be sure. And even if he was sure, Ivy was too vulnerable right now.
Eventually, the others noticed that he wasn’t joining in the fun.
Quin gestured theatrically. “Jeez, even my own brother isn’t jumping in to defend me. Tell her, Farrell. Tell Ivy how good I was at everything in junior high and high school.”
“Well,” Farrell drawled. “There was that D+ you made in chemistry. And the C-in calculus. Is that what you mean?”
Ivy and Katie giggled when Quin glared. “Sports,” he said between clenched teeth. “Tell her how good I was at sports.”
“Oh.” Farrell smiled at Ivy. “My brother was good at sports.”
The smile she gave him was utterly sweet and uncomplicated. It packed a powerful punch. “So I’ve heard,” she said.
Perhaps kindly, she changed the subject. “What about Zachary?” she asked. “The two of you are the first and the last. How does Zachary fit into your family dynamics?”
There was a split second of silence while Quin looked at Farrell and vice versa. Quin rubbed his chin, grinning. “Zachary is what one might call a ladies’ man.”
Katie shook her head. “Oh, please. Don’t be ridiculous. Zachary is wonderful, Ivy,” she said. “Don’t let them lead you astray. Zachary is a perfect gentleman. It’s true that he dates a lot, but that’s not a crime.”
Quin stood up to pour more wine. “The phrase girl in every port comes to mind.”
Ivy accepted the refill with a smile. “And will he have a lady friend in tow when he arrives?”
“Not this time,” Katie said. “Next weekend is going to be an important business function. Most of my brother-in-law’s girlfriends can’t even spell business.”
Farrell chuckled. “Now who’s being catty?”
Katie looked guilty. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’ll like him, Ivy. He’s a sweetheart.”
Quin nodded. “Who knows—maybe he’ll take a shine to Ivy. It would do him good to meet a woman of substance.”
Farrell tensed. Incredibly, jealousy curled in his gut. “Ivy is recently widowed. This conversation is in poor taste.”
The room fell silent. Ivy was visibly mortified. She glared at him. “They were just having a bit of fun.” She turned to the other two. “I enjoyed dinner. If you’ll excuse me, I need to take Dolly to the cabin and get her ready for bed.”
Katie protested. “Oh, don’t go yet. Can’t you put her down in the port-a-crib? And carry her to the cabin later? I’ll help.”
Ivy hesitated.
Quin gave her a hangdog expression. “Sorry, Miss Ivy. I won’t do it again, I swear.”
Farrell had reached his limit in a lot of ways. “I’m sure Ivy is tired. It’s been a long day.” Only after the words left his mouth did he realize how he sounded. As if he was glad to be rid of her.
Ivy’s face turned red. Katie shot him a bewildered glance. She patted Ivy’s arm. “I’ll come with you to the cabin for some girl talk. You don’t mind, do you?” She scooped Dolly out of her high chair. “Besides, I can’t get enough of this sweetie pie.”
When the women walked out of the house, Quin stared at Farrell. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
Farrell rubbed his temples where a headache was beginning to pound. “I don’t know. Nothing, really. Let’s forget about it.”
“You acted like a jackass. Embarrassed Ivy on the one hand, and then practically shoved her out of the house. That kind of wacko behavior is bad for employee retention, you know.”
“Enough, Quin,” he snapped. “Just because you’re nauseatingly happy doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”
His brother’s eyes widened, then filled with sympathy. “Damn, Farrell. It’s been so long since you were interested in a woman, I didn’t see the signs. That’s it. Am I right? You’ve got the hots for sweet little Ivy Danby, and it’s making you crazy.” Quin shook his head slowly. “As someone who only recently was on the precipice of romantic disaster myself, I feel your pain.”
“I’m not interested in Ivy Danby,” Farrell protested. But the words lacked heat.
Quin sobered. “Maybe you shouldn’t go there, bro. You, of all people, know how long it takes to deal with grief. The timing is off. You’ll only hurt yourself. Or maybe her.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Farrell muttered.
“I’ve never known you to do something rash. You’re our rock-steady big brother. I can’t handle a ripple in the force.”
Farrell grinned weakly. “You are so full of it. I guess that must be what regular sex does for a guy.”
Quin leaned his chair back on two legs and laced his hands across his flat belly. “Marriage is the best institution in the world. I can’t believe I waited so long to try it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ivy was humiliated and hurt by Farrell’s behavior during the impromptu Friday night dinner party. She couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad that Katie and Quin headed
back to Portland Saturday morning.
Their presence meant that Ivy didn’t have to speak directly to Farrell. But with them gone, it was easier to simply avoid her boss.
When he had talked to her about Sasha, she felt a moment of something. A simple connection born of shared experiences? But if there had been a fleeting second of kinship, it was gone.
Perhaps he regretted being so honest with Ivy. Men didn’t usually spill their guts with ease. He had said there was no expectation of reciprocity, but deep down she suspected that wasn’t true.
Farrell was curious about Ivy. About her past.
She liked him. A lot. But not enough to dredge up the worst of her secrets. Farrell’s tale about a man and a woman who were high school sweethearts—and then one of them died—was a tender, innocent story of loss.
Ivy couldn’t begin to compete.
For the remainder of the weekend and the days that followed, she worked hard getting Farrell’s house in order. It wasn’t a huge chore. Everything had been pretty much shipshape when she arrived. But there was always the occasional dust bunny to corral and rugs to be vacuumed.
She had his breakfast waiting every morning. His lunch prepared. And a decent dinner in the evenings. What she did not do was eat with him anymore. She offered up excuses, and he accepted them at face value.
Whenever he returned to the main house, his handsome face was sculpted in planes and angles. No emerald-eyed smiles. No teasing remarks. They had somehow ended up on opposite sides of an enormous chasm.
Dolly, thank goodness, was happy almost all the time. She was such an easy baby. Ivy knew how lucky she was. This job would be much more difficult with a cranky infant to juggle.
As promised by Katie, several boxes landed on Farrell’s doorstep, all of them addressed to Ivy. During naptime for the next few days, Ivy tried on her new wardrobe.
Katie might have grown up in a modest household, but her instincts for fashion were spot-on. As much as Ivy had dreaded this Pygmalion-like makeover, it turned out to be not so bad. None of her new clothes made her feel self-conscious. In fact, they boosted her self-esteem considerably.