Their Mountain Reunion (The Second Chance Club Book 1)

by Patricia Johns

“That sounds good.”

  No argument. That was something.

  “So how is your dad?” Melanie asked.

  “He’s fine. He wanted to check in with me,” Tilly said. “He says to say hi.”

  And in so many ways, this could have been a lunch out two years ago—Tilly bored but accommodating, Adam sending her a message through his daughter... She’d thought she was happy back then. Now, she knew she’d settled. She’d accepted what she could get.

  “And I told him I’m pregnant,” Tilly added. “So you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

  Melanie exchanged a glance with Logan. It seemed that Tilly was ready to let her secret out if she was talking this openly in front of Logan.

  “How did he take it?” Melanie asked.

  Tilly shrugged, but tears welled in her eyes. “He’s disappointed.”

  Melanie reached out and put a hand over Tilly’s. “He’s just surprised. He’s going to be fine.”

  “He’s furious at Simon,” Tilly said.

  “Oh, sweetie, we all are,” Melanie said, and Tilly laughed through her tears.

  “I guess so,” Tilly said.

  “It’s going to be fine, okay?” Melanie assured her. “This baby is good news, Tilly. Every baby is good news. I promise you that. This baby is going to be loved.”

  Tilly nodded, and just then, the waiter came up with the platter carrying their meals. If she and Adam had managed to stay together, this would have been their family situation to deal with as a unit.

  But it wasn’t. Adam would come pick up his daughter, and he’d finally take over. Melanie looked up and saw Logan’s eyes on her. He looked sad, too. Nothing was uncomplicated. Twenty-three years had passed, and everyone’s hearts had been entangled with other lives, other loves and the children that had made them families.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE REST OF lunch was taken up with Tilly’s plans for having her baby. She needed to talk, it seemed, and if she was opening up, Logan didn’t want to get in the way. He’d quietly listened as Tilly talked about her worries that Simon wouldn’t care about the baby, that she’d be teased in school when her classmates found out about her pregnancy, and how she worried that even her siblings would see her differently now.

  And he listened while Melanie calmly and quietly helped put all those fears to rest. She told Tilly that she couldn’t control Simon and her true friends would be supportive. Becoming a mother wasn’t something to be ashamed of. It was a beautiful rite of passage that not everyone got to experience. Melanie made this massive upheaval in a teenager’s life seem downright manageable.

  Maybe it was that Melanie knew Tilly so well, or just that Mel was good on this level—compassionate, a deep thinker. Tilly had definitely come to the right doorstep, he realized. And so had he.

  What was it about Melanie that drew him in like this? She had enough problems of her own, and he wanted to help her shoulder a few of those, if she’d let him. But he doubted she would. She was trying to start over, and if he knew her at all, she’d do that on her own two feet.

  When the meal was over and Logan had paid, they all stood up to leave. Tilly headed toward the door, leaving them alone for a couple of minutes.

  “Thank you,” Melanie said quietly. “I’m sorry we took over like that—”

  “Don’t be,” he countered. “This is life, isn’t it? Maybe we can talk tomorrow.”

  “For sure. You said you’d call, right?”

  “I did say that.” It sounded like she wanted him to.

  “See you.” She met his gaze briefly, then she followed Tilly toward the door.

  He watched as Melanie and Tilly headed out of the dining room, and he sucked in a deep breath. His time here was short, and he needed to at least try to connect with his father again. Maybe he was a bit like his father, but here was where he was determined to differ—he was going to sit down and have another talk with his dad, and this time he wasn’t going to let the man push his buttons. He’d try to get to know Harry a little. He’d only regret it if he didn’t try. And he still thought it was a good idea to include his brother in this. They were a family, after all—even if an unwilling one.

  Logan headed up to his room, found the business card his brother had given him, and dialed the cell-phone number scratched on the back. His suite was neat and tidy after the maid had visited. There was a chocolate on his pillow, and Logan ambled over and unwrapped it as the phone rang in his ear. Logan popped the chocolate in his mouth as Junior picked up.

  “Hello?” He sounded wooden, empty. Something was wrong.

  “Hi. It’s Logan. Is this Junior?” He chewed and swallowed. It was a mint chocolate—a high quality one. “Sorry... Eugene.”

  “Yeah...” There was a sigh. “I was going to call you, and then realized I didn’t have your number.”

  “Oh.” That surprised him. “You got my message, then? I was hoping we could go visit Dad together. It might make you feel better to keep an eye on things.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think we can do that,” his brother replied, his voice low. “My dad—” Junior swallowed audibly. “He, um, had another stroke this morning. It was a really big one. They took him to emergency by ambulance, but he didn’t make it.”

  Logan rolled the chocolate foil between his fingers, his pulse hammering in his head. His brother’s choice of words hadn’t escaped him, even in the shock of the moment. My dad.

  “Wait...he’s dead?” he demanded.

  “Yeah. He passed away. I was going to get in touch, but—”

  “Right.” Logan didn’t have the energy or the presence of mind to even bother with how hard his brother had tried...or not. “Just like that?”

  “He’d had a few smaller strokes before,” Junior reminded him, clearing his throat. Logan thought he could hear some sniffling in the background. “So I guess this was always a possibility, but it’s a pretty big shock around here.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet...” A shock for them. What about him?

  “I went to see him the other day,” Logan said. “He talked about you a lot, actually.”

  “Yeah?” Junior’s voice sounded choked.

  “He was really proud of you,” Logan said. “You, your family, your success—”

  “Did you upset him?” Junior asked.

  “What?” Logan shook his head. “Are you asking if I’m to blame for his stroke?”

  “No, I’m—” Junior cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m obviously really upset and I’m not thinking straight. Why don’t you and I get together and talk—tomorrow, maybe? I’m rescheduling my clients for the week, so I’ll have the time to sort things out for the funeral and everything.”

  “Sure, tomorrow,” Logan said. “How about around ten? Do you want me to come to your place, or—?”

  “I’ll come to you,” Junior said quickly. “Where are you staying?”

  “Mountain Springs Lodge. Right on the lake.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there at ten.” Junior’s voice firmed. “That will work for me. Thanks for understanding.”

  “I’m calling from my cell phone, by the way, if you need to reach me.”

  “Right.” But Junior didn’t sound like that was actually helpful. He likely had no plans to include him in the funeral in an official manner. “We’ll talk later.”

  Junior hung up without a goodbye, and Logan stood there, staring at the phone in his hand. He’d wondered what it would feel like to know that his father was gone when he’d first arrived. He hadn’t known how that would feel.

  And somehow, he still didn’t. None of this felt real. It was a strange wash of shock. Harry Wilde, the father who’d never been quite enough, was dead, and the last conversation he’d had with the man had been Harry talking about Junior’s career, his wife, his kids...

  They still hadn’t managed to ge
t past that wall. And while Junior sounded choked up, and had probably shed some tears already, Logan was dry-eyed.

  “My dad is dead.” He said it aloud, trying out the words on his tongue. It didn’t make them feel any more real.

  His chest ached, though—the old ache that he used to carry around with him after Caroline passed, and again after his mother’s death. This time, he wasn’t sure that he even had a right to it.

  Because all these years, Logan had stayed away. He could have visited ages ago. He could have dropped himself on his father’s doorstep when Graham was a little kid—introduced the boy to his grandfather. He could have brought Caroline with him. He could have come after she died...

  But Logan hadn’t. He’d been just as guilty in the breakdown of their relationship as Harry had been. They were both grown men. And just like his father, he’d damaged relationships with the people he loved most. He and Harry were the same—patting themselves on the back for being “family men” while they screwed it up.

  “My dad is dead,” he whispered again, and this time, his voice caught.

  * * *

  MELANIE WORE A midnight blue dress tonight—one that she’d only worn twice in her lifetime, both to charity events back when she’d been married. It was a silky sleeveless dress with a high neck and a slim fitting waist. The hemline was asymmetrical, cut at her knees in the front and longer in the back. It had been expensive when she’d bought it, but worth it. At least she’d thought so at the time.

  She enjoyed some laughter and general updating on each other’s lives. Belle had met a nice guy, but she wasn’t convinced he was nice enough. Angelina had some ideas about renovating the honeymoon suite at the lodge, and Renata’s kids were still upset with her for not taking their father back. Gayle had been a stoic support for the rest of them. Life wasn’t always easy, but discussing it over a fine dinner seemed to make it all seem more manageable somehow.

  When the evening wound down, Renata was the first to leave. She didn’t want to leave her kids alone too long, even though the oldest was a certified babysitter. Belle and Gayle left next, and then it was Angelina’s turn to yawn.

  “I have to work in the morning,” Angelina said, “so I’ve got to get home.”

  “It’s way past my bedtime, too,” Melanie admitted. “Thank you for including me in this.”

  “Thanks for being included.” Her friend shot her a smile.

  “Good night, Angelina.”

  As Melanie gathered up her things, she let Angelina go on ahead, and she made her way out of the dining room. There was one other table of guests who were still enjoying dessert and some drinks, but the staff were cleaning up and obviously getting things ready for breakfast the next morning.

  Melanie nodded her thanks to their server, who smiled back.

  This had been a lovely evening—almost perfect—and as she came out the dining room door, she spotted Logan on his way back into the lodge. She smiled, but when she saw his face, her own smile slipped.

  Logan’s face was pale and he looked shaken.

  “Hi,” she said crossing the foyer toward him.

  “Hey.” He reached out and touched her cheek—his finger lingering against her skin, and he didn’t seem to notice the familiar gesture.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, reaching up to take his hand in hers. “Our dinner just ended, and...”

  “I, um, went down to a little pub for the evening,” he said. “I got some news earlier—my dad died.”

  Melanie stared in shock for a moment. “He’s...gone?”

  They’d only seen him a couple of days ago.

  “My brother let me know. I called to make plans to visit Harry together, and... Anyways, it was another stroke, they think,” Logan said softly.

  “I’m so sorry, Logan,” she breathed. “You could have called me.”

  “Nah, I wanted the time to myself, actually.” His hand was still in hers, and he gave her fingers a squeeze but didn’t let go. “I wouldn’t mind the company now, though.”

  “Of course.”

  It was late, and there was a hush in the lodge. The last of the people left the dining room and one couple headed into the sitting room, and the others went up the staircase, their voices low.

  “Do you want to go out to the lake?” Logan asked.

  They headed for the front door together. The wind was cool, but not cold. Logan’s body heat emanated against her. He still had her hand in his, and it felt natural to walk like this together. She leaned against him, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against him.

  The night was quiet, a sliver of a moon shining on the smooth lake. They followed the trail that led down to the water, and Melanie could hear the soft ripple of the water lapping against the rocky shore.

  “You never know when it’s going to be too late, do you?” Logan said quietly.

  “I suppose not,” she agreed.

  “I’m going to see my brother in the morning,” Logan said, his voice low. “I guess there are funeral plans and all that. I don’t think he wants my help with the funeral, exactly, but...”

  “You’re family,” she said.

  “Biologically, maybe.”

  “You did better by Graham,” she said. “That’s something, isn’t it?”

  He nodded slowly, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. She felt his arm tighten around her, and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

  “When you look back on your life, I think you want to see that you behaved well,” he said quietly. “I’m a little too much like my father, there. I might have done better by Graham, but I didn’t do better by Caroline. Or you.”

  “I’m okay, Logan,” she said.

  “You are, but I’m still not proud of the guy I was. And when it came to my father, I’m not proud of how I handled things, either. Sometimes all a man has left is his integrity—if anything, my dad’s passing has driven that home for me.” Logan looked down at her. “I don’t mean to dump my stuff on you. You’ve got your own challenges right now, and I’m sorry if I—”

  “Your father died,” she interrupted him. “Don’t apologize for something like that.”

  Melanie leaned her back against his chest, facing the rippling lake and the dark wall of mountain as Logan put his arms around her. She felt safe here, warm and secure. She could feel the grief deep inside of him, and she had no words to fix it.

  “Do you ever wonder what might have happened if we’d stayed together?” he asked after a moment.

  “We’d be different people,” she replied.

  He was silent.

  “You wouldn’t have Graham,” she added. “And I don’t think you really want to trade in the time you had with Caroline.”

  “My dad said something when I saw him—he thought I’d only married Caroline because she had my baby. He said something about it not being worth it to stay together for the kids.”

  “He said that?”

  “He said he was talking about himself, but...” He swallowed audibly. “He might have been right. I thought I was happy, but Caroline wasn’t. Not according to her diaries. She might have married me for the baby, and I was just stupid enough to think that a faithful guy who paid the bills would be enough to make a woman happy.”

  “It’s not a bad start,” she replied.

  “It wasn’t enough,” he said. “What if I hadn’t done that—gotten married because of Graham? What if... I’d found you before you married Adam?”

  Would that have been better than her marriage to Adam? Would she trade in those years with the wrong guy for another man with different issues? It was hard to say. She was a different person, and the last fifteen years had formed her. Just because a man wasn’t the right one didn’t make the time with him worthless.

  “I was pretty angry with you,” she said.


  “Because I left.”

  “That, and because you were so impossible to talk to back then. You opened up when you wanted to, and otherwise, you were like a brick wall. You wouldn’t share. You wouldn’t say what you were feeling—”

  “Hey, I told you how I felt about you,” he countered.

  “You did. In a romantic moment. But a relationship isn’t just about romantic moments, it’s about all the ordinary time in between, and that’s when you shut down. So, yes, I’d loved you deliriously, but you also made it very hard to maintain a relationship.”

  He was silent for a few beats, and her heart sped up. His father had just died, and here she was telling him that he was a jerk to date? What was wrong with her? She was about to say something—to take it back—when his deep voice broke the stillness.

  “Caroline wrote something pretty similar in her diary,” he said.

  “Logan—”

  “Hey, I’m not feeling sorry for myself,” he said, and he straightened, pulling away from her. “I’m just seeing myself differently. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

  Some cool wind picked up, whisking down the mountain and across the glacially chilled water. Goose bumps rose up on Melanie’s arms and legs, and they headed back up the gravel path to the lodge. Once inside, Logan led the way up the wide carpeted staircase. Some of the doorknobs had Do Not Disturb signs. She should go home—it was late. But somehow, they’d just fallen into step with each other and it felt good to be with him, to have a strong arm to lean against again... Was this loneliness, or something more?

  Logan stopped at his door and fished a key out of his pocket. He opened the door and let her step inside first.

  The room was neat, but he had a few personal items out—a suitcase sitting on top of a chest of drawers, a pair of shoes by the door and a few shirts hung in the open closet. The bed was neatly made and the patio door was open, a fresh breeze ruffling the curtains.

  Logan shut the door and stood there, looking at her, his eyes so full of sadness that it made her tear up in response.

  “I’m sorry about what I said,” she whispered.