“Raina—”
“I’m sorry, Casper. I’m so—I’m so sorry.” Her face crumpled. “I think you need to take me home.”
Then she turned and fled from the cabin.
No—“Raina!” He chased after her because what else could he do? But she had already exited the building, already charged out to the snowmobile.
He sat on the sled, facing her, took her face in his hands. “What is it?”
Her breath whispered out in a sigh. “I got some news today. I . . .” The look she gave him then could reach down and tear him asunder. “The adoption fell through. I think I’m going to raise my daughter on my own.”
He blinked at her, her words settling inside.
And then he got it. Owen’s baby. She planned on keeping his brother’s baby.
Talk about reliving the past, every single day.
“Oh.”
“See.” She wiped her face, gave him a sad smile. “This is why you don’t really want me, Casper.”
He had no words for that. In fact, he hated himself when he turned and fired up the sled.
She didn’t lace her arms around him as they motored home.
RAINA DIDN’T KNOW WHEN—or why—the decision had taken root, burrowed into her. Maybe during the ride into the woods, as her head cleared and she realized . . .
Layla belonged with her. Sure, she could find a safe, loved life with adoptive parents—Raina had no doubt that many adopted children did. But Layla would have a family. Her. And yes, the Christiansens. She shouldn’t have kept their grandchild from them, despite her shame. And Owen.
She would tell Owen. Eventually.
More than that, her future could never include Monte. Not when Casper still embedded every heartbeat.
She had wrapped this around her brain before Casper took her into his arms, before she imagined them in a house in the woods, like Aggie and Thor. Before she’d had them inscribing their children’s names on the walls.
But she definitely saw him in her picture of happily ever after.
So what that it was primitive? Walking through Aggie’s place told her just how valuable loving the right man could be.
Aggie chose the unknown and lived large in love. For a second, Raina did too. Breaking free of the past, embracing the wild adventure that was Casper.
Then his words took her apart, back to the beginning. Back to reality. Let’s start over. I don’t care anymore. Not about any of it.
She stared out the window as they drove toward town, the sun baking the truck. “For the record, I don’t expect you to want to raise Owen’s child. That’s not why I told you about the baby. I just felt you deserved to know.”
Casper seemed as if he might be trying to hold himself together based on his clenched jaw and the way he held the steering wheel with a whitened hand. Not angry, just . . . Well, he appeared as if he might shatter, so she didn’t add to her words, just let them simmer.
She touched her lips, still feeling the way he’d kissed her—as if he ached for her, as if he’d held back desire for the past seven months, only to suddenly have it break free, rich and consuming.
I’m sorry, Casper. She wanted to say it again but for the first time didn’t really know what she was apologizing for.
She couldn’t look at him, her disappointment raw despite her compassion.
He finally pulled up to her house. She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her with a hand on her sleeve.
His eyes were red rimmed. “I . . . I need some time . . .”
Her heart turned over then, seeing the fight in his eyes, and she couldn’t bear it. She pressed her hand to his on her arm. “I didn’t tell you about the baby so you could show up and save the day. Let yourself off the hook, Casper.”
Then she got out, breathing in the fresh air, holding herself together until she reached her house.
He drove away, and she watched him, her forehead against the cold glass. After all, what did she expect? Clearly her destiny with the Christiansen men included watching them leave.
Despite his friendship, Casper was still an adventurer, his heart set on leaving her. She should have seen that in the beginning.
She went to the shower, turned it on. Let the steam fill the bathroom, then undressed and climbed in.
It seemed the safest place to cry.
Her phone was vibrating on the sink when she finally got out, her skin wrinkled and seared. “Hello?” Shoot, her voice still trembled. She shivered a little, pulling on a sweatshirt, her yoga pants.
“Raina! It’s Grace.”
She put the phone on speaker, then grabbed a towel to dry off her hair. “Grace! How are you?”
“I’m actually on my way north. Ivy’s in labor; she’s been ambulanced to Duluth.”
“Oh no . . .”
“Yeah, I know. I’m with Eden—”
“Hey, Raina!” Eden’s voice came across the line.
“I know this will sound weird, but . . . have you seen Casper?”
She stilled. “Why?”
Silence, then, “Because Amelia seemed to think he might be spending time with you.”
Amelia was home? “I thought she was in Europe.”
“Long story—I think. I haven’t gotten all of it, but . . . um, why did she think that?”
Raina sighed. “Because we’ve been . . . we’re friends again.” Or they were. Until today. “Actually, he just dropped me off. We were working on a project together.”
More silence.
“Don’t worry, Grace. The whole thing is too complicated. Trust me—this time Casper won’t be sticking around.”
She heard a sigh on the other end. “I’m not worried about Casper. How are you?”
That was all it took. Grace’s gentle prodding, the memory of her friendship, her willingness to keep her secrets. Raina picked up the phone, climbed into bed, and told her everything.
Landing the job at the antique shop.
Discovering the diary.
Meeting Monte.
Finding Casper at the historical society and letting him woo her into the mystery.
Or maybe she’d wooed him.
Monte’s strange jealousy.
Their trip to Aggie and Thor’s.
And finally, the adoption.
“You told him you were keeping the baby?” This from Eden, who had listened with the same compassion Grace showed.
“Yeah. He completely freaked out. And I don’t blame him.” Maybe she shouldn’t have told them about the kiss.
“I do,” Eden said. “Because if anyone could step in and be an awesome father to this baby, it’s Casper. No one knows how to forgive, how to fill in and save the day, like Casper. He’s loyal and sweet and frankly, the one who cares the most about keeping the rest of us out of trouble—”
“It doesn’t matter. Casper would be a great dad. But he doesn’t want the job.” Raina got up, stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair had thinned again after the baby, and she looked gaunt and pale. “But I do—”
“Raina, are you here?” The voice emerged over the sound of her front door opening.
“I gotta run,” she said to Grace. “Don’t tell anyone—”
Monte appeared at her door, wearing work pants and a sweatshirt, his face drawn in a scowl. “Don’t tell anyone what?”
She dropped the phone on the bed and found a smile for him as she walked over to hug him. “Hi.”
He narrowed his eyes, backed away from her kiss. “I know you have a secret, Raina. And I want to know what it is. Where are the bonds? I know you and Casper are hiding them from me. I’ve been through all Aggie’s things and up at her house all day. Where are they?”
She stared at him. “I don’t know where the bonds are. I’m not hiding—”
“I’ve been calling you all day! Where were you?”
He reached out and in a second had grabbed her phone off the bed. She watched him disconnect it, a sliver of horror twining through her that perhaps Grace ha
d heard everything. But she stayed still as he scrolled through her recent calls, frowning at the last one, then held up the list. Seven missed calls.
Because she’d been out of range.
“I’m sorry.” She swallowed, debating. But he deserved the truth, at least the one that mattered. “I had a court meeting today . . .” She took his hand. “I need to tell you something.”
He didn’t close his grip, just frowned, one lethal eyebrow dipping.
“I had a baby in January.”
His frown deepened.
“I gave her up for adoption. But . . . uh . . . the adoption fell through.”
She could see him trying to keep up, replaying her words in his head. Then he turned and stalked away from her, into the next room.
“Monte, I was going to tell you—”
“When?” He rounded on her. “You don’t think I deserved to know?” His face darkened. “All those times you pushed me away. I thought maybe you were just nervous or a prude. But no—you gave it up for someone else. Who—?” His mouth opened, eyes widening. “Casper Christiansen. He’s the father of your child, isn’t he?”
“No. He’s not.”
Monte closed the gap between them. “Then who was he?” He stood over her, fury radiating off him.
“It doesn’t matter—he’s not in the picture anymore.” She put her hand out to touch his chest, but he slapped it away.
“Tell me.”
She swallowed. “Owen. Owen Christiansen.”
A strange smile slid up his face. “Nice. So you sleep with one brother, then tease the second.”
“No, I didn’t . . .” But his words turned her to ash.
“So now what? Don’t tell me you’re going to keep the baby?”
At her silence, he shook his head. “Seriously?”
“I thought—well, I am her mother.”
He laughed, something sharp and brutal. “Right. You, a mother? You would make a terrible mother.”
She closed her mouth, her words vanishing.
“You have nothing, Raina. You are nothing. You barely have a job—if I decide to keep you employed after today—and can hardly take care of yourself. Do you seriously expect to be able to raise a child?”
She frowned. “I . . . Yes. I . . . I practically raised my brother—”
“Yeah, and where is he now?” He looked at her, lifted an eyebrow.
Raina bit her lip, letting the blood fill her mouth, wishing she hadn’t told him about Joey’s death.
Monte sighed. “Fine. Okay. So you wanted to raise this kid. I get that. You have a lot of foolish ideas. But listen.” He came over to her, cupped her face in his hands. “I’m willing to forget all this. Put it behind me.” He ran his thumbs over her cheeks. “You made a mistake. It’s not the end of the world.”
Then he smiled and she didn’t know what to do with her feelings, the way they tumbled around inside her. “Really?”
“Yeah. Of course. I can forget the Owen thing and the kid. I mean, I’ll try.” His mouth lifted in a half smile. “You might have to work at it a bit, though, to help me.”
And then he kissed her. Not gentle, but with possession in his touch. He pushed her up against the doorframe, his hands on her waist. His mouth moved to her neck. “And here I thought I was dating a good girl.”
She stiffened, but his hands moved to her shoulders to pin her to the wall. He lifted his head, his eyes in hers, dark. Angry. “How many other men have you slept with?”
Her mouth dried. “Monte, I’m not that girl anymore.”
“Oh yeah, you are.” He kissed her again, pulling her to himself, rough. She wrestled against him as he pushed her to the sofa. She fell over the arm, landing in the cushions, Monte standing over her.
He unzipped his sweatshirt.
She rolled off the sofa onto the floor, finding her feet. “Monte—I think you should leave.”
“You do, huh?” He advanced toward her.
She backed up, her hand out. “I know you’re mad, but—”
“Oh, honey. I’m not mad.” He leaned in, his finger at the base of her neck, tracing the well of her throat. “I’m going to make you forget all about Owen—and Casper—Christiansen.”
Yeah, well, she didn’t want to forget Casper Christiansen—or Owen, for that matter. Because he’d given her a child, and even if their union had been wrong, Layla wasn’t. And even if Casper wasn’t in her life, he’d made her believe in herself, taught her that a girl could make mistakes, but it didn’t mean she didn’t deserve a happy ending.
It doesn’t mean you won’t make an amazing mother someday. Actually, it doesn’t even mean that you weren’t already an amazing mother to Layla.
She would be a great mother. They might not be rich—they might struggle—but what if she chose to lean into the hope that God did see her? Did love her? What if she embraced Thor’s words, like Aggie had, and looked at God instead of at herself, believing His love for her because of who He said He was, not disqualifying it because of her mistakes, her sins, her shame? Not telling herself that she deserved less—but wildly reaching for love?
Her grip closed around the Bible—Aggie’s hardcover family Bible that she’d returned to the living room.
Monte closed his hand around her neck, tightening.
In one quick move, Raina raised the book and, with everything inside her, slammed it against his head.
He howled, and the act loosened his grip, knocked him into the fireplace.
Raina didn’t stick around. She dropped the Bible and opened the door to run.
And right there stood Casper.
Casper had nearly gotten home, nearly been out of reception again when his cell phone rang.
Grace. Breathless. Upset. And not about Ivy going into labor, or the fact that Darek and his entire family had left for Duluth. But about Raina.
“Something’s not right,” she said, her voice taut after she delivered the family news. “We were talking—”
He didn’t ask about the topic.
“—and suddenly someone came in. He sounded angry and accused her of hiding something—”
That was all Casper needed to disconnect and turn his truck around.
Probably he should have turned it around two—no, seven months ago when he’d left, but he couldn’t change that.
Maybe it’s time to get out of the way and let God be in charge of your heart.
He loved Raina. The depth of it could knock him over, and he’d battled that thought the entire drive home from Mineral Springs.
He loved her. And he should have stuck around to fight for the woman he loved instead of letting his pride decide for him.
Sometimes he did stand in his own way. His pride—his fear of getting hurt. Yeah, loving Raina would cost him something.
A lot.
But the reward—oh, the reward.
He could choose in this moment to follow his heart—God’s heart—for Raina and Layla. So what that she wanted to raise Owen’s child? He wouldn’t love Layla any less because she was Owen’s—and really, even if Owen decided to show up and wanted to be a father, it didn’t mean Casper had to surrender Raina.
In fact, if he stepped back and looked at the signs, maybe he could admit that God brought him back to Deep Haven not to escape Raina . . . but because of Raina. The Almighty hadn’t taken her out of his heart because . . . because she belonged there.
Which meant that Casper wasn’t going to stand back and let anyone hurt the woman he loved.
He landed on her doorstep without remembering how, exactly, he’d gotten there. Fast—he remembered taking the Third Avenue corner on two wheels. But the moment he hopped out of his truck, heard the howl as he barreled up the sidewalk . . .
He reached the porch just as the door flung open.
Raina ran full tilt out of the house, smack into his arms.
He caught her, his heart in his throat. “Raina!”
Then, behind her . . . Monte.
Th
e man bled a little from a scrape on his forehead, and oh, Casper dearly hoped she’d put it there.
Casper read the fear in her expression, and something snapped. “Are you okay?”
But Monte had barely slowed, and maybe the sight of Casper only ignited him because he launched himself at Raina.
Casper pushed Raina out of the way, catching Monte, and they flew backward off the porch into the sodden snow. Slush embedded his clothes, but it couldn’t cool the fury as he rolled and landed on Monte, his knee in the man’s gut.
His first punch exploded Monte’s nose. Monte got one punch of his own in before Casper’s second cracked his jaw, and Casper would have just been getting started if he didn’t hear sirens.
And if Raina didn’t grab his jacket. She must have run back inside, because now she held a rolling pin raised above her head.
Fierce, her eyes on fire.
Casper bounced off Monte—hot, pumped, wanting to dive back on top of him. But Raina still had ahold of his jacket. “No, Casper!”
Monte just lay there, moaning, swearing, and the words he called Raina made it a good thing that she tightened her grip on Casper’s coat.
When a Deep Haven cruiser pulled up, Deputy Kyle Hueston stormed out.
Only then did Casper begin to breathe.
Monte groaned, pushing himself to his feet. “Kyle, arrest him. Casper attacked me—”
“Seriously?” This from Raina. She turned to Kyle, yanking up her shirtsleeve to show where bruises in the shape of a hand stained her arm. “This is from him.” She pointed at Monte.
Casper wanted to take him apart again.
Would have, if Kyle hadn’t clamped his hand on Casper’s shoulder. “I got this.” He turned to Raina. “Are you saying Monte attacked you?”
“Yes. He tried to rape me.” Only then did her gaze go to Casper. He winced, feeling like he was going to be ill. “And I’d like to press charges.”
Attagirl. But he had his hands on his knees, bent over, gulping in air.
He couldn’t drive her stripped, vulnerable expression from his mind, even as Kyle cuffed Monte and his partner settled him in the cruiser.
“And by the way—I’m a great cook!” Raina said, still holding the rolling pin.
Huh?
Always on My Mind Page 28