He didn’t speak for a long minute, his eyes held on the dense distant woods where the deer had gone, as if he was in a trance.
“Chance?” I said, my voice still low.
His eyes lightened and flashed to my face, his expression clearing as he shook his head slightly. He spoke low too, and I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one struck somewhat dumb by the sanctuary around us. “Some of them are more than thirty feet in diameter,” he said. “As big around as a house—depending on the house, of course.”
Finn was standing at the foot of one of the trees, both hands on its soft bark. He stood still, looking at something in front of him, or thinking about something. It almost looked like he was communing with the tree, speaking a language no one else could hear. After a moment, he stepped nearer to it, his feet finding purchase on the knobby roots, as he pressed his chest to the trunk and stretched his arms wide. He looked so tiny there, his arms reaching as if he was trying to hug a wall, not a huge tree trunk.
“He signs,” Chance said quietly, almost to himself.
“We both do,” I told him. “Even though we don’t really need to now. There was a time when Finn didn’t talk.”
Chance looked at me for a long moment, and something passed behind the eyes, some shifting storm I couldn’t understand.
I broke his gaze and wandered in silence, staring around me at the silent giants, and then Finn came to my side. “Too big to hug,” he said, and I laughed.
Chance laughed too, telling Finn the trees still appreciated the occasional hug. “This is part of the Kings Grove that the village was named for,” he said, standing in the middle of the clearing between the trees where the deer had been. “The rest of the grove is on the other side of this hill.” He pointed to the distant ridge to our right. “That’s where most of the tourists go to see the trees. They’ve got trails and fences set up to keep people from getting too near. But I like to see them up close, to stand next to them.”
We followed him a little farther down the trail, and he stepped off to the side, leaping up onto the biggest stump I’d ever seen. “A lot of the trees were logged in the late nineteenth century,” he said. “But they figured out pretty fast that the lumber wasn’t great for building, which probably saved the rest of these trees.” Finn and I both climbed up onto the stump and sat down. Chance continued. “There’s a stump in the other part of the grove that has a sign on it—the tree was cut down to ship back to the World’s Fair. It was so big they sent it in pieces, and the people who saw it called it a hoax—they didn’t believe one tree could be so big.”
I smiled at the thought of people being mystified back then by something as simple as a huge tree, my mind rolling over the complicated technology that comprised our culture today. But then, I realized, here we sat, my usually rambunctious eight-year old completely mesmerized by these enormous trunks around us. The trees did have a super power, I realized. “Thank you for bringing us here. This is incredible.”
Finn was grinning at Chance, and he seemed to be thinking for a minute before he spoke, and then he let out a rush of words—more than I’d heard him string together in a long time. “These are the biggest trees I’ve ever seen. I want to plant one at home so I can build the best treehouse anyone has ever had. Let’s find a seed.” He jumped off the stump and began scouring the pine needle-littered ground around us, searching for seeds. After a minute he hopped back onto the stump where Chance and I still sat. “The seeds must be big,” he said. “Help me find one.”
Chance laughed. “You’re not gonna believe it, but the seeds are tiny. Bring me a pinecone and I’ll show you.”
Finn did as he was told, coming back to Chance with a huge pinecone dripping with sap. Chance took the stem of it between his thumb and forefinger and grinned. “Seems right, huh? Big trees, big pinecones.” He handed the cone back to Finn. “But this one is from a Sugar Pine, not a Giant Sequoia. Now find me the tiniest pinecone you can.”
Finn’s little nose and brow wrinkled as he thought about what Chance had said, and he dropped the big cone and began wandering, leaning forward as he searched. After a few minutes, he returned with a cone no bigger than the palm of his small hand. It looked like the kind of decorative cone you’d buy at a craft store to fasten to a winter wreath.
“That’s the one,” Chance said. He pulled it open with his big hands—no small feat, as the thing looked sturdy and hard, like a little rock. He took out a tiny little fleck and set it on the end of his finger. It didn’t look like a seed—it looked like an afterthought, a scrap. “This is the seed that makes one of those trees.”
Finn shook his head, disbelieving.
Chance shrugged. “I’m telling you the truth, Finn. These trees are like magic. They grow huge from almost nothing at all, and they’re nearly impossible to kill.”
I liked both of those things—the idea that the tiniest bit of life could become the most resilient. It reminded me so much of my son, and I felt my heart squeeze as I watched him take the tiny seed and tuck it into his pocket with a grin. We’d never find that sucker again, but it made him happy for now.
“Head back?” Chance asked, standing up.
Finn and I both nodded, and I realized we’d been out for a couple hours. I was hungry, and we still had actual business to discuss.
On the hike back, Finn stayed close to Chance, and worry sprouted in my chest. I could see Finn being charmed by the man—I was pretty sure everyone who met Chance probably felt that way. But he was not a part of our lives, and I didn’t want my son to get attached. One day of friendship was fine, and I knew Finn was searching for the male role model his father certainly didn’t represent. I was worried he might be willing to adopt any stray man who got too close for too long. My little guy didn’t need his heart broken any more than I did, and Chance Palmer—with his perfect smile and life-is-easy good looks—held the potential for heartbreak. It was hard enough for me to keep a rational distance and not be too drawn in by those gray-blue eyes—how was Finn supposed to manage?
Chance talked us into having lunch before we went to discuss the resort, and I couldn’t argue, since Finn was undoubtedly hungry.
Once we were settled in a booth by the window, Chance leaned into Finn as he perused the menu. “We’d better get milkshakes, just to be on the safe side.”
“The safe side of what?” I asked.
Chance grinned at me and my heart flipped over. “Just to be safe, Michaela,” he said, as though he was asserting a fact.
“From the possibility of never having another milkshake?”
He lifted a shoulder as Finn nodded enthusiastically, and added, “To be safe, Mom.”
“I highly doubt this will be our last chance for a milkshake,” I said, still laughing at his grave face. “But if you’re worried we might be hit by a bus or something…”
“Don’t say that.” Chance wasn’t laughing now. His expression had turned to stone, and he stared at me in a way that sent chills racing down my arms.
“I was kidding.”
He let out a breath and his face reanimated. “Sorry. Right, just… Don’t kid about stuff like that. You never know.”
A curly-haired waitress appeared at the side of our table right then, interrupting the strange silence that had developed between us, and smiled broadly. “Hi there,” she said. “Welcome to Kings Grove.”
“Hey Maddie,” Chance said, his smile open and easy. “Been killed off in any books lately?”
She laughed, and I envied her happy relaxed expression. “Not yet. Seems like Connor’s keeping me around for now. In real life and on the page.”
“Maddie’s fiancé writes thrillers,” Chance explained to me and Finn. “There’s always a Maddie character, but so far she always survives.”
The sheer romance of the idea charmed me, and I felt a goofy grin spread over my face, which I quickly tuned down to a normal smile. “Any books I might’ve read?”
“Ever read Connor Charles?” she asked.
Wow. “I have read a couple. I quit reading the really twisted books after—” I stopped myself. “I don’t like to read the scary stuff now,” I said, nodding at Finn. They didn’t need to know all the details. Having a kid was enough to make most people want to see the good side of human nature. “I definitely know who Connor Charles is, though. I had no idea he lived up here.”
Maddie beamed, and I could see her pride in her fiancé.
“Wedding planning going well?” Chance asked her.
“Not especially. If Connor had his way, we’d just stand on top of a rock and exchange rings where no one can see us. At this rate we might never get married.”
“Sounds about right,” Chance laughed.
“There’ll be a party at least,” she said. Then she turned to me. “Can I get you something to drink?”
We placed our orders—Finn and Chance both got milkshakes—and soon Finn was doodling on the paper menu as Chance and I talked.
“Did you like seeing the trees?” he asked. Those soft eyes were fixed on my face, and I made the mistake of meeting them, which caused me to swallow hard to find my voice.
“They were amazing,” I assured him. “They’re very compelling.” There was a warm buzz beneath my skin and I found myself uncertain whether I spoke strictly about the huge trees we’d visited.
“I’m glad you think so,” Chance said. “Do you think you could convince McLaren of the same?”
I sighed and put down the fry I’d been about to put into my mouth. I wished it were as simple as that. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. How could I explain the situation I was in? “If the numbers are right, I can convince them to build, sure. But if the place doesn’t do well, or if the remote location or the weather interrupts the timeline and the place doesn’t open on time…”
“Aren’t those the same risks you face no matter where you build? Destination islands can’t be easy places to source materials. And in Kings Grove you have the benefit of an experienced construction company that’s been working up here for more than a generation. The location and weather are things we handle on almost every job—we wouldn’t offer a schedule we couldn’t meet.” Chance’s face was sincere, but his unwavering confidence did little to reassure me. It was his job to tell me mine would be safe. And even if everything happened on schedule, the place could still fail. Building was only one part of the equation.
“Yes, they are. But the situation at work is a little more complex.”
His eyebrows rose and I imagined he was now thinking that maybe McLaren was in trouble.
“It’s not a financial thing. Not for the company anyway,” I explained, my mind racing as I tried to decide how much Chance really needed to know. “It’s more of a human resources thing.”
Chance’s face broke into a smile, but he shook his head lightly. “I guess I don’t see what that has to do with making this decision,” he said.
“My dad,” Finn volunteered suddenly, and I wished he’d go back to being absorbed in his drawing.
The merry light left Chance’s eyes for a second—or did I just imagine it did?
I sighed. “My ex-father in law is Harvey McLaren,” I said. “And he’d like to give my job to his son. My ex. Finn’s father.” There. It was out. Kind of.
Chance leaned back in the booth, seeming to consider this for a long minute. “I’m sure there’s quite a bit more to it,” he said finally, and then he tilted his head to the side as he continued. “But I understand now that this is personal to you, Michaela. You don’t just need a win. You need to hit it out of the park, right?”
“Something like that. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll even get a chance. Harvey’s basically made this into a competition. McLaren is building a new resort. The question is only where.” I ate a French fry as I formed more words inside my mind, tried to decide how I wanted to frame the next part. Chance was still a potential business partner, and if I told him too much about the ridiculously unprofessional competition my boss had set up since Jeff had gotten out, it might change his mind about doing business with McLaren at all. It would certainly change my mind if I were in his place. “Harvey would like to see Jeff come up with a better proposal than mine. He’d like to give him the win.”
“And then give him your job.”
I nodded, my heart sinking as I thought the other words I couldn’t voice out loud. And then he might take my son.
Chapter 7
Chance
I turned the conversation to other topics after Mike and Finn told me about Finn’s dad, about the way she was being treated at work. I didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to arguing against nepotism—hell, Sam and I were both in the positions we were today because of my dad’s insistence that we take on important roles at Palmer. But in my mind, there was a difference between pitching in at the family grind and being placed in a position you probably didn’t deserve over someone who was already doing that job. I didn’t know Mike well, but based on the focus and determination she’d already shown me, I’d guess she did her job well.
Finn finished his shake and leaned back into the booth, looking sleepy and full.
“Someone might need a nap,” I said. Finn’s cheeks were rosy and his face was so clear, so trusting—I felt a little twinge in my heart that made me want to ruffle his hair or pull him onto my lap. It was foreign to me. If anyone had asked me, I’d have told them I wasn’t a big fan of kids. But Finn was easy to be around, and his eagerness and untarnished view of the world was infectious.
“Yeah,” Mike said, and she sounded uncertain. “But I really do need to get through the nitty gritty of this proposal.” Her hand found Finn’s forehead and pushed back the sandy brown hair that lay there.
“Let’s head over to the office,” I suggested. “We can really go through the plans and I’ll show you the initial figures I’ve worked up.”
She nodded and gently prodded Finn until his eyes flew open again. They were unfocused and glassy with sleep. “Hey buddy, we need to get up.”
Finn roused himself just as Maddie stopped back by. I paid her and rose to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” I said, standing back for Finn and Mike to head out of the diner.
“Hope to see you again soon,” Maddie called after them. Then, in a lower voice, she said, “I like her, Chance. Go get her.”
I felt color rush to my face, and couldn’t help turning to widen my eyes at Maddie. “It’s just business, Mads.”
Her curls bounced around her shoulders as she grinned at me. “Right. That’s what I meant.”
But it wasn’t just business, and obviously everyone else knew it too. Mike was beautiful and strong, and I’d have to have been blind not to see it. She was loving and sweet with Finn, determined and definitive about work, and sexy as hell in the soft loose sweater she wore draped over her jean-clad long legs. All that dark brown hair was swept into a messy bun that was begging someone to pull it down, and I’d had a hard time keeping my mind focused all morning. Now as she and Finn stood in the center of the visitor plaza, sunlight weaving through her hair and kissing her face as she stretched her arms overhead, I felt my body come alive in a way I hadn’t since Rebecca had been part of my life.
“We can walk,” I told them, striding across the plaza to where they stood. Finn was standing on the seat of a bench, mimicking his mom’s stretch with his thin arms aimed at the blue sky. When he turned to look at me, he smiled a wide smile and then wrapped his arms around his chest and shivered. “You cold, buddy?”
The temperature had dropped a bit now that the sun was beginning to slide lower in the sky, and after a long hot summer, it finally felt like fall.
Finn shivered again in response, and Mike wrapped her arms around him, holding him from behind. “We didn’t really plan for cold,” she said. “Though even if I’d told you to bring a jacket you wouldn’t have, huh Finn?” She said this playfully, but I saw the smile of acknowledgement on Finn’s face and I laughed.
“Sam and I were the same way. We’d come home blue rather than wear the coats my mom told us to take to school.”
“So this is a male thing,” Mike said, sounding thoughtful.
“I guess so.” I gave Finn’s head a little rub, unable to help myself, and then took a step back. “Come with me, I have an idea.”
We crossed the plaza to a set of double glass doors that led into the gift shop next to the ranger’s station. Inside, Finn spun in a slow circle and widened his eyes. “Cool,” he breathed.
The next forty-five minutes were spent investigating everything from polished rocks to Kings Grove potholders, and if you’d listened to Finn, it sounded like he and Mike needed it all.
“Look at this!” He called from the back corner of the shop. Mike and I had been standing together near the doors, letting Finn look around. Mike had been interested at first, but after the first fifteen minutes, when Finn’s energy hadn’t flagged, she’d just smiled lightly and come to stand with me. “Mom! It’s a Giant Sequoia!”
Finn came to show us a tiny tree in a plastic tube, and he was right—it was a Giant Sequoia.
“We can plant it in the yard,” he said, grinning eagerly at his mom.
“It won’t grow in the valley, buddy,” I said. “You could plant it up here, though, if you want. I just built a new house and you could put it out in front. I could use a humongous tree or two.”
Finn nodded. “Can we, Mom?”
Mike looked uncertain, and I realized it was because I’d basically just invited her to my house without even thinking about it. Crap. “Probably not today, buddy—you guys are here for business, and we need to head over to the office. But I’m sure you’ll be back if this deal happens, and you can definitely come see my house and plant me a tree then, okay?”
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