“I know Felicity wouldn’t approve, God rest her soul. She’d be horrified to see how you’re behaving.”
“Maybe she should have been thinking about that before she decided to run out—” He clipped off his words.
But Nan looked like he’d struck her. “I know you never really loved my daughter, Darek. But she adored you, and don’t you dare go desecrating her memory! She was a good wife to you, a wonderful mother—”
“Nan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Nan seemed just short of snapping herself. She tightened her hold on Tiger, took a step back. “I’m taking Theo home with me. I’ll get him cleaned up, feed him, and bring him back to you tomorrow.”
This time, Ivy did slip her hand onto Darek’s arm.
“No.”
“Darek, he’s upset—”
“I’m upset! Did you not see the man who killed your daughter playing with your grandson?”
His voice came out booming, and Tiger wrenched around in Nan’s arms, so much horror on his face that it made Ivy want to weep.
“Darek!” Nan snapped.
Tiger turned back to Nan, wrapped his arms tighter around her neck.
Darek winced. Gritted his teeth. Turned away.
His breaths rose and fell in his shoulders, and Ivy wanted to press her hand to his back. But suddenly, with Nan looking at her—the entire town looking at her—she had the sense that she might be a villain in this story.
Taking Felicity’s place.
The truth rushed up at her. Ivy didn’t belong here. She should leave. Now.
She couldn’t breathe.
Run. Away.
Her feet crunched on the rocks as she backed up, and the sound made Darek glance at her.
Please. He said it with his eyes, the pain in them rooting her to the spot. Don’t go.
Or maybe she just hoped he was saying that. Nevertheless, she stopped.
Darek slowly turned back to Nan, his shoulders rising and falling. He rested his hand on Tiger’s back and said quietly, “Tomorrow. By noon.”
Nan seemed speechless for a moment. Then her voice dropped. “You’re doing the right thing, Darek.”
He nodded, nothing of agreement in his face, and bent to kiss Tiger on the cheek. “Be good for your grandma.”
Darek stood there as Nan walked away with Tiger, so much heartbreak in his eyes that Ivy couldn’t help but take his hand.
He didn’t look at her. Just wove his fingers together with hers.
“C’mon,” she said quietly. “I’ve had enough art for today.”
He said nothing as she led him up the street, past vendors, past the crowds. She wasn’t exactly sure where she might be going, and when they ended up at his truck parked outside her place, she thought he might simply leave her there.
Then, inexplicably, he turned to her. “I know I haven’t been very good company today. But—” he looked at his fingers still laced in hers—“would you be willing to have dinner with me?”
Dinner?
It’s getting late. I have to work tomorrow. She should have said either of those things. Instead, she nodded.
Climbed into his truck. Rode beside him to Evergreen Resort. She knew exactly where Felicity had died now and found herself measuring the road as they drove silently around the curve.
Darek’s fists tightened on the steering wheel and he took a long breath.
Finally, when they reached the dirt road that led to the resort, he said, “I’m sorry.” He had his face glued to the road, but his words flickered in his expression.
“What happened?” Ivy said softly. “One minute you were standing there; the next, I return to find you on the ground with Jensen.”
“I don’t know.”
He pulled into the parking lot, now filled by the hotshots’ trucks and cars.
Darek sat there a moment, then looked at her. “Jensen killed my wife.”
She knew that, but hearing him say it felt so blunt, so raw, that the hurt registered on her face anyway.
“He was driving, and she was out for a run, and . . .” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
She swallowed, nodded, pretty sure this wasn’t the end of it.
Darek got out of the truck. “I have a couple steaks in the fridge, and my sister made some fresh bread yesterday. I’ll just be a moment.” He left her standing on the path while he disappeared inside his parents’ lodge home.
The woods trapped the heat, the scent from a lush blanket of pine needles, the wind filtering through the paper birch. She walked out past the lodge and saw a canoe pulled up to the beach, a pontoon boat at the dock. A crow called from a nearby perch.
“A man can forget up here,” Darek said behind her. He held a stainless steel bowl with a head of lettuce, tomato, red onion, and cucumber. From his fingers dangled a bag with a loaf of bread.
She took the bowl from him. Considered him a moment. “Or he can try.”
Darek tried a smile and then nodded, walking past her.
Ivy fell in step with him, their feet soft on the path. Roots crisscrossed the trail as it wound through the woods to his little house.
Darek set the fixings down at an outside table. “I’ll be right back.”
Ivy waited on the porch, looking out at the lake. What might it have been like to grow up here, at a place embedded with so much peace? With legacy? With his family right down the trail, his name carved into the trees? This was Darek’s land—Evergreen.
He had no idea what it felt like to be uprooted.
Darek emerged from the house with a cutting board, plates, a couple knives, two napkin rolls with silverware, and two fresh steaks on a serving platter. On a second trip he brought a couple Cokes, salt and pepper, garlic, blue cheese salad dressing, setting it all on a table on his deck.
“That’s quite the place,” she said, gesturing across the lake.
He didn’t look up.
Oh, this might be a bad idea after all.
“Jensen Atwood lives over there, in that big house.” He unwrapped the steaks and turned to light the grill, a six-burner gas affair. It roared to life, and he turned down the heat, closed the hood. He stared at it for a moment; then, “We grew up together.”
“You and Jensen?”
“And Felicity and Claire. They were two years younger than us, so they were always a little off-limits. We spent every summer right there, out on that lake.” He pointed with his tongs. “We were best friends, even after he moved away.”
She picked up a knife, began to cut the cucumber into slices. “Why did he move?”
“His parents got divorced and his mother remarried. His father was bitter, moved him down to Minneapolis.” He salted the steaks. “Jensen hated it. He loved living here, and moving to the Cities tore his life apart. He came back every summer.”
She glanced at him, surprised at the lack of rancor in his voice.
“He was here the summers I was working on the hotshot team in Montana. Well, most of them. He came to Montana the first year, but . . . it didn’t work out.”
She reached for a tomato.
“I remember the year I came home for a visit during the summer, hearing rumors that he and Felicity were an item.” He took the onion, began to slice it. It came off in thin rounds. “I wasn’t surprised. He was always competing with me for something. Hockey. Grades. Felicity.”
“You and Felicity dated in high school?”
Darek blinked as if trying to fight off the sting of the onion. “No. Not really.” He looked away, widened his eyes. “Wow, these are strong.”
Ivy reached over to steal the onion from him and finished slicing. She’d never been susceptible to the power of onions.
He set down his knife. “We went to senior prom together—double-dated with Jensen and Claire. I think Felicity got it in her head then that we should be together, and . . . well, she came on pretty strong after that, and especially when I got back that summer, despit
e the fact that she was dating Jensen.” He lifted the hood on the grill, dropped the steaks on with the tongs. Seasoned them with garlic. “Not that I wasn’t willing.” He sighed. “You should probably know that Felicity and I weren’t married when Tiger was conceived.”
Ivy hadn’t expected that. But, well—
He looked at her then, something of pain in his eyes. “The truth was, I didn’t want to get married. I was angry at her—I felt like she trapped me.” He closed the hood, turned the heat down more. “I wasn’t exactly a great husband. I was angry and resentful and gone most of the time on the hotshot crew. I worked year-round back then, training when I wasn’t working for the forest service. No wonder she turned to Jensen.”
His words made her look up. “Did she and Jensen—?”
“I don’t know. After three years of thinking about it, I don’t think so, but at the time . . .”
That seemed so . . . forgiving for a man who had just tackled said nemesis in public. Ivy added the onion to the bowl. Picked up the lettuce and began to tear it with her hands.
He took a long breath, gazing toward the house across the lake. “Deep down, I was so angry at her, at life.” A muscle pulled in his jaw. “I accused Felicity of having an affair the night she . . .” He sighed. “I can’t believe I did that. I can still hear it sometimes, my own voice in my head telling me to stop. Telling me to just shut my mouth. But I can’t take the words back. I can’t stop the rush of accusations—so many of them. I blamed her for everything. For getting pregnant, for stealing my life. And she threw it right back at me. Told me that I should be more like Jensen. That he wouldn’t run out on her. That’s when I suggested that maybe she was looking for a do-over with the boy next door.”
Ivy had stopped tearing the lettuce and now just watched him deflate, wearing his defeat on his face.
“Sadly, she was right. Jensen was the kind of guy she could depend on. He’d always been that guy, and I knew it. Despite his parents’ broken marriage, Jensen was a guy who would have settled in Deep Haven, made a life with her. He’s small town at heart, and in a way, I stole Felicity from him.”
His words left her a little hollow, unsure how to respond. “Did he love her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He had a soft spot for Claire, but Felicity was always shiny and bright. She attracted all our attention.” He let out a wry chuckle. “Jensen was the best man at my shotgun wedding.”
“Shotgun?”
“No, not really, I guess. Although I’m sure Nan and George wished they had one, maybe to run me off.” He gave her the smallest smile.
She hesitated, then smiled back.
Behind him, smoke trickled from the grill. “The steaks!” He heaved open the lid. Smoke billowed out as he grabbed the meat, turned it.
“I hope you like your meat charred,” he said. “Sorry.”
I didn’t come for the food. Not that she let herself say that, but as she watched him begin to toss the salad, she wanted to slide into his arms. Mold herself to him, taste his lips on hers.
Make him forget all his mistakes, his regret, and . . .
Stay here as if she belonged.
Maybe someday, if he could forgive Jensen, then Darek could also forgive her. In fact, maybe she should just tell him the truth—tell him that, from a distance, Jensen looked innocent. Probably was, but she’d leave that out. She’d come clean, let Darek see that she never meant him—or Deep Haven—any harm.
She was just trying to be impartial. To help justice along.
“I forgive you,” she said, reaching for the salad. “Just don’t set anything else on fire.”
He laughed, rich and delicious.
Oops. Too late for that.
Darek wasn’t sure how he’d gone from the turmoil inside to a place where he just wanted to forget the steaks roasting on the grill and wrap his arms around Ivy.
What had he been thinking, opening up his regrets, his mistakes for her full-on scrutiny?
Ivy was just so easy to talk to. She listened without judgment. With compassion. And talking to her somehow unknotted the anger in his chest.
Darek took a breath and turned back to the grill, waving his mitt through the smoke. “They’re going to think we’ve started the forest on fire.” He could feel his heart thundering through his ribs, sense her standing behind him.
It was just the adrenaline of the day, the way she’d taken his hand, helped extricate him from the embarrassment in town. Agreed to join him for dinner, giving him yet another chance.
He glanced across the lake, where a light flickered on at Jensen’s place.
A strange, unbidden longing went through him. Hey, Jens, wanna go fishing?
Darek blew out a breath, checked the steaks. Despite their crispy exteriors, they still seemed juicy. He slid them onto the serving plate. “Want to eat down by the lake?”
When he turned, he found Ivy already holding the bowl of tossed salad, plates topped with the napkin rolls in her other hand. He picked up the Cokes, tucked the dressing under his arm, and nodded toward a picnic table at the water’s edge.
She led the way, looking so pretty in that sundress, the wind playing with her hair. She’d probably be cold now that the sun was nearly gone. Maybe he’d help solve that.
Oh, see, here he was, moving too fast again.
Ivy set the bowl on the table and added the plates, side by side so they could watch the lake together. She set down the napkins and climbed onto the bench.
“When I was twelve, the foster family I lived with went camping. I lay in my tent all night, shivering, terrified of the sounds. But I loved the idea of eating outside. And by the end of the week, I couldn’t wait for the next year’s adventure.”
“And were you scared the next time?”
She dished salad onto her plate, then forked one of the steaks. “Yum. This looks delicious.”
He frowned. “Ivy?”
“I was moved three months later, right before Christmas. I never saw that family again.”
Oh. “I’m sorry.”
She lifted a shoulder. “It was okay most of the time. I got used to moving. The hardest was the time I almost got adopted.” He watched her tackle her steak, cutting it into tiny pieces before she picked up a bite.
“What happened?”
She sighed. “It was an older couple. Professionals. They didn’t have kids and wanted a son and a daughter, so they took in me and a boy about a year older. He was cute, athletic. Stayed out of trouble. Me, I was bookish.” She looked at him, a smile on her face.
Darek didn’t feel like smiling.
“One day the man left his money clip on the kitchen table, and twenty dollars went missing. I wasn’t sure if Brooks had taken it, but I certainly hadn’t. They interrogated me, and although I told them the truth, they didn’t believe me. I have a feeling Brooks pinned it on me, but . . . they sent me back about a week later.” She took another bite of her steak.
He’d lost his appetite. In fact, he felt sick. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I survived.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Ivy.”
She gave him a little frown. “Why?”
“Why aren’t you broken and angry and . . . ? You’re so put together.”
The laugh she gave sounded nothing like humor. More like chagrin, maybe. “I . . . just kept dreaming of something more, you know? I made sure I didn’t get attached. I had to believe that someday . . . well . . .” She seemed to be searching his eyes. Across the lake, a loon mourned, low and long.
“Had to believe that someday . . . what?” he said softly.
Ivy looked away, shook her head. “It’s so beautiful. I would never leave if I lived here.” She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath.
“I don’t want you to.” He didn’t know where that came from, how it even emerged from him, but it surprised her as much as it did him because her eyes flew open.
He cupped his hand on her soft cheek. “You are so beautiful,�
�� he said. Then he leaned in and kissed her.
It was just as he remembered from their date under the fireworks, just as he’d been trying to forget—not wanting to, but feeling like he’d probably had no right to kiss her in the first place.
Maybe it was a fluke, all of this. This woman, who now surrendered to him, letting him kiss her, moving her hands to palm his chest. The way, with her, he felt redeemed. As if the last five years might be healed in her embrace.
His arms went around her, and he pulled her to himself. Ivy. He tried out her name on his lips, whispered it against her neck. Then he leaned back, held her face in his hands.
She swallowed.
“You make me feel new, Ivy. Like I don’t come with all this baggage. Like I didn’t tackle the guy who used to be my best friend today. Like I didn’t scare my son. You make me feel like I can start over and maybe someday be the guy I should have been all along. With you, all the roaring anger in my head goes away, and I can forget. Even move on.”
She swallowed again, her eyes glistening. Then she closed them, turning her head away.
What? “Are you . . . upset?”
She made a face, shook her head, but untangled herself from his arms.
“Ivy, what’s the matter?” See, he was moving too fast, setting things on fire he had no business igniting.
“I didn’t . . . You should know that I didn’t plan this. I didn’t . . .” She looked at him, took a breath. “I came here because I wanted to help people. I wanted to change lives. I wanted to do some good. I never wanted to hurt anyone—” She clamped her hand over her mouth and leaped up from the bench.
Darek followed her. “You’re not going to hurt anyone.”
“I just . . . Listen, maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
He caught her arm. “What do you mean?”
But she pushed against him. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” She walked away from him. “I think I need to go.”
“Go? No, Ivy. What’s going on?”
Her face had crumpled, a strange twist to it as if she might be trying not to cry. “You don’t get it. I do that. I have a good thing going, and suddenly I wreck everything. And then it’s just over.” She was backing away. “Just . . . over.”
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