He closed her in a tight embrace and laid his cheek against her soft hair. In that moment he regained his soul.
“I was so scared I’d lost you.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt.
“Me, too. Literally petrified. All my muscles started locking up.” He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair.
“Wow.” She lifted her head and her brown eyes were shining. “Epic.”
“Yeah.” He took his time looking into her eyes, because he would never again take that privilege for granted. “I love you, Chels, and not just because you’re funny and sexy and beautiful and creative, even though you’re all those things. I love you because you had the courage to tell me the truth, even when I didn’t want to hear it.”
She swallowed. “It wasn’t easy.”
“I know, and I hope to God I never again get that close to betraying everything and everyone I care about. But if I do...”
“I’ll kick your butt.” Her smile was filled with tenderness. “But I have a feeling you don’t have to worry.”
“I have a feeling you’re right.” When he kissed her, he swore he’d never take that privilege for granted, either. He’d come so close to ruining everything. But thanks to the inspiration of a tiny spider, a blood oath in the forest and the woman in his arms, he’d gained the world.
Epilogue
FINN’S DECISION TO STAY changed everything in Chelsea’s mind. She was no longer worried about having him move in, and she was convinced that a miracle would happen and the Kickstarter campaign would be funded by the deadline. Logically his presence shouldn’t have any effect, but she had a superstitious streak.
She could tell everyone else appreciated him being there, too, although she and Rosie were the only ones who knew how close he’d come to leaving. They’d both decided that talking about it after the fact would serve no purpose.
But despite Chelsea’s firm belief that the money would appear, at one hour before the midnight deadline they were still short the amount that had dropped out yesterday, too much even for them all to cover.
Everyone had gathered in the kitchen where they had three different laptops on. Rosie plied everyone with snacks and free-flowing beer, all except for Chelsea and Rosie, who drank coffee and Bailey’s.
At eleven-thirty, Ty Slater, a former foster kid and their legal consultant who lived in Cheyenne, showed up at the front door. When he walked into the kitchen, Chelsea recognized him immediately from the calendar. Because it was a sixteen-month calendar, Ty had volunteered to be the cowboy on the page for September through December. Not even Cade had wanted to be hanging on someone’s wall for that long.
But Ty apparently was willing to do anything he could to help the cause, including donating his legal services. “I was watching on my computer at home,” he said, “and finally I couldn’t stand it. I knew you’d all be sitting around hyperventilating, so I’m here to hyperventilate with you.”
“And drink Finn’s beer.” Cade handed him a chilled bottle. “We planned to save some for when we reached the goal, but we decided to drink it now because we need to fortify ourselves.”
“I understand. Tense times always call for a good beer.” Ty pushed his brown Stetson to the back of his head and smiled at Chelsea. “Here’s to you, lady. That was another reason to drive up, so I could meet our Kickstarter guru. You’re amazing.”
“She is amazing.” Finn stepped up quietly behind her chair and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m a lucky guy.”
“I’d say so.” Chelsea noticed Ty and Finn share a look, and the subtle flirting stopped immediately. “When are you two heading back to Seattle?”
“Tomorrow,” Chelsea said. “It’ll be tough to leave, though. I’ve loved being here.”
“I’ll bet. What kind of stuff did you do?”
“Helped Cade and Damon,” Finn said, “but I had some time to show her around the place. One night we went dancing in town.”
Ty blinked. “You? Dancing?”
“You’d be flabbergasted.” Damon wandered over to join the conversation. “Old Finn, the guy with two left feet, has found his rhythm. Now he puts me to shame.”
“That I’d like to see.” Ty peered at Finn. “What’d you do, take lessons?”
Finn laughed. “You might say that. Actually, I—”
“Oh, my God!” Chelsea had been keeping an eye on the screen off and on while she tried not to panic. Then she looked and...
“We’re over!” Lexi jumped up from the table and grabbed Cade around the neck. “Somebody just donated a whole bunch, and we’re over!”
The room erupted into cheers, shouts and a few quiet tears from Rosie. Chelsea thought she might have been the only one to see that because Rosie quickly wiped them away and began hugging everyone. Chelsea almost didn’t hear her phone when it rang, even though it was right in her pocket.
“Who was the donor?” Ty asked.
“You check.” Chelsea pulled out her phone and hurried into the living room where she could hear. “Lily? Did you see that we made it?”
“Duh. I just donated. I thought you guys were solid when you left here, but then I looked just now and you were seriously under, so I gave you the rest.”
“What? But you already gave us a donation, Lily. I hate for you to go into debt. I’m grateful, but that’s a chunk of money. And now you’re stuck.”
Finn had followed her into the living room and stood listening to her end of the conversation.
“I have plenty of money,” Lily said. “Didn’t anyone tell you? I made a killing on a video game a few years ago and I’m living off the royalties. I didn’t want to be obnoxious and just throw money at you before. Then it would have been all about me.”
“You could never be obnoxious, and thank God this didn’t put you in the hole.”
“Not even close to the hole.”
“That’s great to hear. Whew.”
“Congratulations! Thunder Mountain Academy is a go!”
Chelsea took another deep breath and let the tension flow out of her body. “Yes, because of people like you.”
“Hey, it took everybody to make this happen.”
Chelsea paused to catch her breath. “And FYI, I may have Rosie talked into getting a pig. We’re going to slow-play it, but be ready if the subject comes up.”
“I will! Now go on back to the party. I’m sure there is one.”
“There is. Good night, Lily.” Chelsea disconnected the call and stared at Finn. “I think she’s a millionaire or something. Who knew?”
“I don’t think she wants the whole world to know.” He pulled her into his arms. “Congratulations, Chels. This is mostly your victory, and I want you to go back in there and claim it, but—”
“Come here, cowboy.” She pulled him by his shirtfront the way she had their first night in the Bunk and Grub.
“I love it when you do that.”
“I’m glad, because I intend to be doing it for a long, long time.”
“Then it looks like I’ll be doing this for a long, long time.” His mouth came down on hers.
Not surprisingly, his kiss was ended soon after it began. Cade and Damon broke it up and hauled them both back into the kitchen for a loud and jubilant toast.
But that was okay. Toasting the future of Thunder Mountain Academy was important. She’d have plenty of time for kissing once they returned to Seattle. And now, because Finn had seen the light, so would he.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE MIGHTY QUINNS: DEVIN by Kate Hoffmann.
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The Mighty Quinns: Devin
Kate Hoffmann
Prologue
"STAND UP STRAIGHT, don’t chew with your mouth open, and say ‘thank you’ when they give you your gift.”
Devin Cassidy glanced over at his mother as they strode down the icy sidewalk. Mary Cassidy’s gaze was fixed in front of her, her lips pressed into a hard line. She’d worked as a housekeeper for the powerful Winchester family for as long as Dev could remember and she took her position in the household very seriously.
Every morning except for Sundays, she’d leave the house before sunrise, dressed in a simple gray uniform, and return an hour before he went to bed. She was usually too exhausted to do more than acknowledge his existence before flopping down onto the sofa in the corner of the living room with a glass of whiskey and cool washcloth for her head. Dev would prepare supper for her and place it on a tray table next to the sofa, then turn on the television before retreating to his tiny bedroom.
When he was younger, he’d wondered why he didn’t have a normal family as many of his friends did—a father, a mother, a few siblings, even a pair of grandparents. But when he’d questioned his mother, his inquiries had always been met with stony silence. “I’m your mother,” she’d say. “I provide for you. You won’t need anyone else in the world.”
He didn’t ask anymore. He’d lived without a father for this long. They didn’t need some undependable guy walking into their lives and turning everything upside down. They got by fine just the two of them.
By the time they reached the Winchester mansion, his feet and fingers were numb with cold and his nose was running. His mother examined his appearance carefully, wiping his nose with her lace-edged handkerchief and smoothing his ruffled hair with her fingers. “The Winchesters believe children should be seen and not heard,” she reminded him.
“I’m not a child,” he muttered. Hell, he was nearly thirteen years old and he’d been making this same walk to the Winchesters every Christmas since he could remember. But his attitude about the party at the end of the walk had changed.
Used to be that the prospect of getting an expensive gift was all he could think about. There had never been much money for Santa, so the Winchester gift always made up for it. On top of that, there was food—all sorts of treats that he’d never tasted. And he got to gaze at the beautiful Christmas tree that soared to the ceiling in the front parlor, and indulge in cups of punch that tasted like fizzy sherbet.
The Winchesters were different...special. Everyone knew they were rich, but with all that money came respect and undeniable power. One did not speak badly of the Winchesters. In fact, everyone in town was beholden to them.
Frederick Winchester owned the town—he owned the huge textile mill that sat on the river, most of the businesses in the quaint downtown, many of the smaller homes that lined the quiet streets. If the family didn’t like someone, it became impossible for him to live in Winchester.
Without her job in the Winchester mansion, Dev’s mother had nothing. They paid rent on their little house directly to Frederick Winchester, they bought things on credit at the grocers—also owned by Winchester—and when someone was sick, they went to the Winchester Clinic.
Dev stood behind his mother as she rapped sharply on the ornately carved front door. A few moments later, one of the Winchester children opened the front door. There were no servants on duty that night. For one night a year, the family would wait on their staff.
It was a Christmas tradition, but even with the forced gaiety, it made for an uncomfortable evening. At no other time were the stark differences between the “haves” and the “have-nots” clearer.
“Good evening,” the young girl said.
“Good evening, Miss Elodie,” his mother replied. “You look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you, Mary. So do you.” She stepped aside, and Dev and his mother walked into the wide entry hall. Elodie turned to Dev and held out her hand. “Hello, Devin. It’s nice to see you again. May I take your coats?”
Dev stared at her hand for a long moment, then gave it a quick shake. “Thanks,” he muttered. He slipped out of his jacket and waited as his mother handed the girl her coat, as well. Elodie disappeared for a moment, then returned without the coats.
“Let me take you in,” she said, leading them toward the huge parlor to the right of the sweeping stairway. Dev kept his eyes fixed on Elodie. He remembered her from Christmases past, but she’d grown up over the past year. She wasn’t a little girl anymore but a confident young lady, tall and graceful and—pretty.
“Mama, Papa, look who’s here. Mary and her son, Devin.”
The entire family surrounded them, offering Mary their holiday greetings. Dev did as was expected of him. He shook their hands and made his greetings. When the family pointed to the tables loaded with food, Dev politely chose some treats, then found a quiet place to sit near the butler’s pantry. There were other children at the party, but they’d also been warned to mind their manners and they were sitting quietly, enjoying the cakes and candies near the Christmas tree.
The grand finale of the party would be the gift-giving, the part that Dev hated most of all. Frederick Winchester would present each of the children with an extravagant gift and then would wait for each of his employees to express their deepest gratitude to Winchester for giving them the job that fed their families and put a roof over their heads.
Of course, there were tears and long descriptions of the kindness that the Winchesters showed their inferiors. Dev had to wonder how his mother did it, year after year, never questioning her place in their world, never quibbling over her meager pay or her long work hours.
Dev wondered how much longer he’d be able to pretend that this was all right with him. Last year, he’d refused to open the gift he’d been given—a brand-new PlayStation, he’d discovered when he’d opened it later that night. He didn’t have the money to buy the games, but then, Frederick Winchester wouldn’t have considered that.
He’d taken the gift out to the garage the day after Christmas and smashed it to pieces with a hammer. And when his mother had asked where it was, he’d told her that he’d donated it to the toy drive at school.
Dev hated having to bow and scrape to the Winchesters just because they were rich. But this job was important to his mother, and for her, Dev would do anything. It was the only thing that stood between them and poverty. Someday, he’d have an important job that paid well and they’d be able to walk away from Winchesters and their money.
“Psst.”
Dev looked up from his plate and noticed a small opening in the door to the butler’s pantry. The door opened a bit farther and he recognized Elodie’s face.
“What?” Dev asked.
“You want to see something?” she asked.
He glanced around, but no one was paying any attention to him sitting alone in the corner of the room. “What?”
The door opened a little farther. “Come, I’ll show you,” she said.
Dev set his plate down on a nearby table, then quietly slipped from the room. When he got inside the dark butler’s pantry, her hand gripped his, and he followed after her as they ran through the kitchen to the servants’ stairway. He’d been in the house a number of times over the years with his mother, but he’d never ventured upstairs.
“Are you sure we should be up here?” he asked.
“Of course, silly. This is my house. I can go anywhere I want.”
They seemed to climb stairs forever, the last flight narrow and twisting. Finally, Elodie threw open a door and turned on the lights.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“A secret room,” she said. “In the attic.”
“What’s up here?”
“Come and see,” she said, drawing him inside.
The wide room was dominated by a huge table, but it was impossible to distinguish what was on top, as the contents were covered with a sheet. And then, suddenly, Elodie ripped off the sheet and flipped a switch. The table lit up and toy trains began to circle a series of winding tracks.
Dev stepped closer, fascinated by the sight. There had to be at least ten trains, all winding their way through a number of trestles and tunnels and passing through towns with tiny houses all lit up from the inside. Miniature cars sat at the crossings, waiting for the gates to rise when the trains passed.
“Holy shit,” Dev muttered.
“Yeah. Holy shit,” Elodie repeated.
He glanced over at her and laughed. “Is this yours?”
She shook her head. “No, it belonged to my grandfather. When he was alive, he used to let us play with it every Christmas, but now my father keeps the door locked.”
“How did you get in?”
“I know where the key is,” she said. “I sneak up here all the time. I just have to remember exactly where the trains were when I started and I put them back before I leave.”
“Why won’t your father let you play with it?”
“He hates these trains. He and my grandfather never really got along. I miss him.”
“Where is he?”
“He died when I was seven,” she said. “He was living in California with my aunt Charlotte.”
“I’m sorry,” Dev said, surprised to see tears in her eyes. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze.
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