Every word hit Blake like a gut-punch as he gazed through Sadie’s window at the majestic mountain. His brain wouldn’t allow him to attempt imagining the terror of falling from a mountain face like that. “That’s—that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s a risk she took. It’s also why I don’t rock-climb,” she added sardonically. “Besides, I made it to St. John’s hospital in time. I was able to hold her hand and say good-bye, and that’s more than a lot of people get.”
“I think I’d be angry. I feel the risk wasn’t justified. Was it really worth it to her?”
Sadie offered him a quick glance and a small amused smile before focusing on the winding road again as she slowed for a curve. “Hundreds of people climb the Tetons every year, Blake. Besides, I don’t hold others’ freewill against them. We live for ourselves at the end of the day, and we have to live in a way that jives with our needs. Mom needed to climb mountains. I can’t blame her for that.”
They’d dropped farther down into the valley to where the trees were, and now a barren forest gorged with snow crowded the highway on both sides. Finally, the trees opened up as they crossed the Jackson Lake Dam. Sadie rounded one final curve and flicked on her turn signal for the parking lot where they’d unload their gear.
He wasn’t ready to let it go at that. “Seems rather generous, don’t you think? Not holding people accountable for their freewill?” It explained why she thought of him as some kind of good guy. With that kind of mentality, everyone was a good guy.
Sadie flashed him a wry glance. “You misunderstand. Do I hold your freewill against you? Of course not. This is America. Do as you please. Now, ask me if I hold the consequences of how you choose to exercise that will against you.”
Blake hiked an eyebrow.
Sadie gave a decisive nod. “Damn right I do.”
Gravel crunched under the tires as Sadie maneuvered the truck into position beneath a stand of aspens.
Sadie dropped the gearshift into park, undid her seat belt, and swiveled to face Blake. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. You’re drawing some kind of correlation between you and my mom, and it’s ridiculous. I’m not mad at her because it was her right to go climb mountains. It wasn’t your right to be unfaithful to your wife. Now, quit philosophizing, and let’s go.”
* * * *
Even in the tent with the heater blowing warm air, Blake’s extremities were stiff from the bone-deep chill.
Sadie didn’t seem to notice. She’d had the physical tasks of hauling the ice sled across the lake while Blake followed, slipping and cursing, with the lunch cooler. She’d used the ice auger to drill out a core of ice to give them access to the water and then put up the tent. Plenty to get her muscles moving and her blood flowing.
Blake stood by, once again the holey pocket of uselessness.
Now, a couple of hours and not a bite later, they were huddled in canvas camping chairs. He was grateful Sadie had thought of something so practical, because it hadn’t crossed his mind that he didn’t want to park his butt on the ice until she pulled one of the chairs from its mesh bag.
“This is great. I’m having a blast.” He sat hunched forward. The words stuttered through his quivering lips.
She grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Nothing worth having is easy to achieve.”
He raised a brow. “So, a normal fish caught off the bank isn’t worth having because it would be easy to catch?”
“It’s not the destination; it’s the journey.” Her grin widened.
No doubt about it, she was amused. Well, he didn’t find freezing his tenders off all that hilarious. “So, it’s not the giant fish we’re after, it’s the freezing our butts off that counts?”
She shook her head and reached for the cooler with their lunches. From it, she retrieved two brown paper sacks and hurled one into Blake’s lap. “Here. Set your reel down and eat, grumpy.”
He hadn’t realized he was ravenous until he pulled out the squished, misshapen sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly. His mouth watered. He ignored the rest of the snacks in the bag and sank his teeth into the soggy sandwich with a moan. “Ohmgitsgo.”
Sadie studied him over the rim of her Thermos, yet another thing Blake hadn’t had the foresight to bring along. He should’ve asked for a list of necessities.
He swallowed the wad in his mouth. “It’s good.”
She smiled. “Thank you. You’ll like the cinnamon almonds, too. I made them myself, if you can believe it.”
“Not for a second,” he replied before taking another massive bite. The sandwich was half gone already.
Sadie’s face scrunched up. “Caught me. Got ’em at the grocery store.”
Blake successfully hid his amusement. It wouldn’t do for Sadie to realize how much he enjoyed her company or how funny he found her or how he was having more fun in the middle of a frozen lake freezing his nuggets off than he’d had in weeks with Amanda.
His good mood snuffed out like a candle. There he went again, comparing the two women.
Fishing rods—short, stocky handheld models designed specifically for fishing within the confines of a thermal tent—were back in hand a short time later, lunches wiped out entirely. A quiet loomed over them that Blake blamed squarely on Sadie. She had a faraway look in her eyes, like she’d become lost in her thoughts. He didn’t doubt for a second they had to do with him. Conceit had nothing to do with it; it was the way she kept stealing none-too-subtle glances at him every few minutes, a considering thoughtful gleam behind her ashen gaze.
By the time they were nearing the end of their time window, Blake was tired and disappointed. Not the faintest of tugs on his line all morning, and Sadie’s ogling had started to get under his skin.
He finally snapped. “You want to say what’s on your mind instead of staring at me like I’ve turned purple?”
“Fine. You have turned purple, by the way, but sure, let’s play.” Her succinct tone didn’t bode well. He braced himself. “You’re bored, Blake.”
Part of him backed up defensively, while another part of him breathed out heavily in relief. He ran a hand over his face and stared at the side wall of the tent because he couldn’t quite bring himself to look Sadie in the eye. “I know.”
“You know?” Her surprise convinced him to look at her.
“Why so shocked? You said it.”
She shrugged. “I guess I didn’t expect you to admit it.”
“I probably shouldn’t. But, hell, I am bored. At least, I think I am. I don’t know. I mean, I convinced myself I was bored with Quinn, too. I’m probably not bored, actually, I just have some mental disorder where I tell myself I’m bored to justify seeking out excitement.” He stared into the black water through the hole in the ice.
That made a lot of sense, actually.
Sadie broke into his rumination with a tsk laden with disdain. It was the first time he’d ever heard her sound annoyed. With him, anyway. “Man, you’re really hung up on your past. Past wives, past mistakes, past this, past that. What about right now? This minute. This week. This place, this time. Are you going to wait until you’re fifty to concern yourself with the present, or wait until it’s part of your past, too?”
She’d struck an exposed nerve Blake hadn’t realized was there. She’d gone beyond a sensitive spot and stabbed into an open wound.
His first instinct was anger. Sadie didn’t know anything about him. She couldn’t know how deeply he’d ruined his life and how determined he was not to make the same mistakes. She wanted to believe it had everything to do with women, but there were other things he’d forfeited in his pursuit of a good time.
He calmed himself with a deep breath. She couldn’t understand unless he explained. “This isn’t just about Amanda. Or Quinn. It goes back to Hunter, my baby with Kira. He came into the world like a bucket of ice water over my head. At that time, my relationship with Seth was beyond repair. It took Quinn threaten
ing my rights to open my eyes to how far away he was. We were virtual strangers. In my heart, Hunter was my redemption. My second chance to do it right. To be a good dad. When I found out he wasn’t mine, it killed me.” Worse, Kira had ripped him straight out of Blake’s life, without ever asking if he’d raise the baby, despite the truth.
He would’ve done it. He would’ve raised Hunter as his own had it ever been an option.
Blake ran a hand over his face. The pain had faded, but a new one had sprung up in its place. “Then came Maddie. In a perfect world, one where I didn’t screw up everything I touched, she’d be mine. She should’ve been mine. Instead, she’s a living, breathing reminder that I don’t deserve a redo. Have you ever desperately wanted something you knew you’d never get? I’m forty, rusty at dating, and I’ll never get another chance to be a dad. To be a good dad, to be a kid’s go-to parent. Hell, Seth gets Jack’s advice before he asks mine.”
He stopped and looked away. He’d never dreamed he’d say any of this out loud. Somehow, it was equally freeing and damning. Hearing the words aloud, he believed them. A tiny bit of the hope he clung to evaporated. He shook his head. “Or maybe I just wanted another shot at having a family of my own, where I have a deeper value than an uncle. So, there you have it. I can’t go back in time and be Father of the Year or the World’s Greatest Husband, but I can be a better man here and now.”
Sadie’s eyebrows gathered in puzzlement. “Dating Quinn’s doppelganger is some kind of redemption, then? Oh, I get it.” The concept seemed to light a fire beneath her, and her sarcasm cut into his vulnerability. “She’s Quinn, I’m Kira, and you find yourself at that same crossroads with the same two women. What can you do but the exact opposite of what you did last time, all for some skewed idea of atonement? That’s wrong on so many levels; it’s inconceivable I have to explain it. Amanda is not Quinn. I’m not Kira. You do us both an injustice when you ascribe another woman’s traits to our physicality. You’re pasting Quinn over Amanda, and it’s wrong.”
The imagery made Blake queasy. “That’s not what I’m doing—”
“It is.” Her gray eyes glinted with exasperation. “Look, Blake, I wish the best for you and Amanda. And it’s a good thing you don’t want to repeat old mistakes. But what you’re doing? It’s self-punishment. Stop trying to bandage your past before you wreck your future. Your redemption might not come dressed up in Quinn’s wrapper.”
At that moment, the rod twitched in his hand. Startled, he gripped it with both hands and gaped at Sadie. “I think I have a bite.”
A wicked grin burst onto her face, wiping away their conversation like it had never happened. “Reel! Reel!” she squealed, miming with her hands. “Jerk it back once you feel a solid weight on the other end. It’ll set the hook so it can’t squirm away.”
Blake followed Sadie’s instructions, exhilarated and suddenly warm to his bones. But, in the back of his mind, behind the excitement and hubbub of reeling in his first rainbow trout, his mind snagged on Sadie’s words.
Maybe she was right. Maybe redemption wouldn’t appear in the guise of the one he’d wronged. He surreptitiously watched Sadie grapple with the huge fish he’d yanked from the murky depths of the lake.
Maybe redemption came dressed like his mistake.
* * * *
“Do you want to go or not?” Sadie’s pout told Blake what answer she expected.
But he had plans for dinner with Amanda after work, and asking if he could be late so he could join Sadie on a shopping trip to a sporting goods store seemed like a touchy thing. “I’m not sure.”
She crossed her arms, rolled her eyes, and turned to Kennedy, who leaned against the doorjamb, filing her nails and listening to the conversation like it was a radio program. “You want to go, Ken? I need to re-up my fishing supplies. You can always look at yoga pants or something.”
Kennedy offered Sadie a flat stare and an even flatter smile. “Do I look like I do yoga?”
“You look like you could stand to,” Sadie offered, with a charming grin.
Blake bit back a laugh. How odd would it be to have a friend so close you could say things like that to one another and survive? “You two have a strange friendship.”
Both women looked at him. Their contrasts were many. Sadie was raven-haired, light-eyed, and pale. Kennedy, a golden-curled, emerald-eyed tanning fanatic.
Kennedy spoke first. “Opposites and all that.”
“She’s wrong,” Sadie objected. “Honesty is the root of all happiness.”
Kennedy’s lips pursed. “There’s such a thing as too much honesty.”
Sadie cupped her chin in a thoughtful gesture. “I have to disagree.”
“Exactly. Opposites. As I said.”
All this while they continued to look at Blake and not each other. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. It was like a bad reality television show. They fought. They made up. They hated each other. They loved each other. They fought some more.
“You two should offer marriage counseling.” He went back to the ledgers on his desk, puzzling over the latest balance sheet. A small blip, something not adding up in bookkeeping. He’d ask Amanda about it tonight at dinner. “As to your kind invitation, Sadie, I’d better take a raincheck. Maybe this weekend? Amanda’s usually down in Alpine—”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence.
Every breath, every sound, every thought was banished when Amanda tore into his office. Her arms swung madly at her sides, and her face was set like he’d never seen it—nostrils flared, her bright green eyes wide and hard, chest heaving.
All of it she aimed right at him. “I don’t date men who sleep around.”
The words hit Blake like a hammer to the face. He involuntarily leaned back and away from her as she loomed over his desk.
She had on a white pantsuit, the upper half a sort of wide-strapped tank top with fat stitches running down either side of the front, and an odd cape-like flap of fabric hanging off her shoulders. It probably looked very chic under normal circumstances, but Blake’s brain immediately went into angel of death territory—all she needed were great wings to sprout from her back and actual fire to spark from her eyes. He didn’t get a chance to ask a question or defend himself.
Amanda reeled toward Sadie.
To her credit, Sadie only looked confused. Apparently, Amanda didn’t strike her as particularly threatening. But then, if Blake had to bet on who’d come out ahead in a rumble, he’d bet every penny he had on Sadie.
Amanda seemed to cool somewhat, as if sensing Sadie wouldn’t be cowed by anger. It only made the words that finally emerged from her mouth all the more piercing. “Don’t worry yourself over the promotion, Sadie. Your name was eliminated from the pool at the last meeting. Just a friendly FYI.” She shot a final nasty glare at Blake and fled his office, little white cape flapping behind her.
He had the sensation of being ripped in two. His body jumped up from his desk, but it took him toward Sadie, not chasing after Amanda, like his brain shouted at him to. Head and heart warred against one another. Following his instinct, Blake stepped toward Sadie.
She stood there near the doorway, her face set in the perfect blankness only shock could inflict. Her eyes stared at nothing, and her mouth hung open slightly, as though she was about to speak. Somehow, Blake knew she wouldn’t, though.
Kennedy recovered first and had a hand on Sadie’s shoulder, gazing worriedly into her empty expression.
Then, common sense stepped in. Reason cleared its throat and asserted itself. If he didn’t go after Amanda, it’d be like waving a giant red flag in front of the entire office. In bold letters, it would read, I choose Sadie!
He gave Sadie’s arm a perfunctory squeeze as he walked past. Kennedy nodded her understanding.
While Kennedy might approve, Blake couldn’t say the same for his conscience.
It railed against him as he rushed toward the lobby, where Amanda had run. His gu
t told him to go back, his every instinct telling him to make sure Sadie was okay. The blow Amanda had dealt was a devastating one and, at that moment, Blake couldn’t say what he was going to do when he finally caught up to Amanda.
In theory, he’d approach her calmly and quietly. He’d ask her to explain what he’d done wrong and how he could fix it. He’d apologize and work to make it right, whatever it was. But in the back of his mind, he didn’t think it’d be undeserved if he knocked Amanda down a peg or two. People were entitled to anger but not cruelty.
And what Amanda had done was cruel.
Chapter 10
Sadie sat on the hood of Wes’s white Cadillac because she knew it would piss him off. Short of shoving her fist into his face, it was all she had. She might hit him, anyway, given the opportunity. Duncan would understand, especially if Wes gave her a really, really good reason.
Like telling Amanda that Blake and Sadie were making whoopee behind her back.
She didn’t have any proof Wes was behind it, but her gut instincts vouched for it. Amanda flying off the handle wasn’t some random act of PMS. Nor was the shocking news that Sadie wouldn’t be getting the promotion.
Her stomach roiled. She ignored it.
Wes was her concern. Later, she’d deal with her stomach lining as it burned to smoking ruins. Besides, there weren’t enough Tums in the world to fix what was wrong. Wine, though, wine might do the trick. Or make things worse, but at this point, it didn’t matter. Her future was shot full of holes.
And the dickweed walking toward her now was responsible.
Wes’s expression was as black as his name. “Get off my hood before you dent it.”
Sadie ran a hand over the smooth white metal like a game show floor model. “It’d be a shame.” In her right hand, the one hidden from view, she hefted the big, black metal stapler she’d brought along. Her instrument of torture. “Come clean, or I’m going to make your car look like cottage cheese. A whack here, a whack there.” She continued to stroke the hood lovingly with her free hand.
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