Love Redefined

by Delancey Stewart

  Dinner was perfect. It was four adults and Batman—even Sam was well-behaved. We talked about how Mike got her start with McLaren, and told her about the history of Kings Grove and Palmer Construction. We spent a little time on the way Miranda got brought into the business on the design side, and by the time we were ready for dessert, everyone was laughing comfortably and it felt like we’d all been friends for years.

  “What’s the plan tomorrow, Chance?” Miranda asked as I put a molten lava cake with a scoop of ice cream in front of each person.

  “Hang on,” Sam interrupted. “Is this from that show you made me watch? That self-saucing pudding thing you were going on about?” I had tried to drag Sam into my British Baking Show fascination once, when I’d been charmed by the way they described a cake with a molten center, and it had been a mistake. He’d laughed hysterically when the Brits had described the single serving “puds” and gushed about the perfect sauce. It made me sorry I’d shared.

  “Just eat it,” I said. “Then you won’t want to make fun.”

  He was quiet after the first bite of chocolate hit his lips.

  “I’ve got plans to start at ten,” I told the group. “The electrical contractors and the hotel security guys will be up tomorrow. We’ll do some location scouting to look at best places for the warming hut and offsite restaurant, and at the end of the day, we can go through Miranda’s plans for interiors.”

  “Sounds good,” Mike said. Next to her, Batman was yawning and beginning to list to one side. “Better call it a night for now.”

  “I’ll take you guys back,” I said, standing. “Sam will take care of cleanup.”

  Sam’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened, but Miranda stood and began collecting dessert plates. “We got it, Chance. See you tomorrow Mike and Finn. It was so lovely to meet you.”

  Mike and Miranda exchanged a quick hug and then we were collecting coats and heading out the door into a surprisingly cold night. “No snow yet,” I commented, “but it’s cold enough for it.”

  We drove back through the quiet village, the lights glowing in the windows of the houses we passed and spilling golden shapes onto the dark ground around us.

  “That was amazing, Chance.” Mike said, her voice low and silky in the dark cab of my truck. Finn leaned against her shoulder, and I guessed he was probably asleep already. “Your house is incredible.”

  “Thanks,” I answered. I knew she was right, but I almost didn’t want to go back there, I knew Miranda and Sam would have gone home, and the big house would feel empty and tomblike once more. It wasn’t a house meant for one. I should have thought of that when I built it.

  A rush of sadness washed through me as we turned into the parking lot of the old Inn. “Here you go,” I said, going around to open Mike’s door. She unbuckled, descended, and then scooped sleeping Batman from his seat and held him in her arms. He looked so small, and the two of them standing there like that—so clearly a family, so clearly belonging to one another—made the emptiness I’d been feeling expand until I could barely breathe.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow? Ten in the lobby?”

  I swallowed hard and forced my smile. “Ten. We’ll meet you here. Be ready to explore a bit up the ridge.”

  “We will,” she said. She paused a moment, her dark eyes sliding over my face in the glow from the Inn windows. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep,” I said, ignoring the gnaw of loneliness I felt. “See you tomorrow.”

  I watched her climb the steps and go inside, the gaping hole inside me suddenly bigger than ever.

  I didn’t sleep well at the best of times. And for some reason, delivering Mike and Finn back to the Inn had pulled off the painful seal on the scar I managed to keep mostly covered up.

  It had been having them all in my home, I thought. Seeing little Finn run through the open living room, climbing on my furniture and exploring, seeing Mike at my table with her deep glowing eyes and hearing her sexy laugh rolling through the space, it made everything I didn’t have come into sharp focus. Everything I wanted so badly. Everything I was terrified to pursue.

  There were not a lot of opportunities for love in Kings Grove, though Connor and Sam might think differently. For me, I didn’t believe there was a girl just around the corner waiting for me to fall in love with her. I wasn’t the most self-actualized guy probably, but I knew I’d really only been in love once, and it had taken an extraordinary woman to make me fall. Now here was what felt like a second opportunity… but it wasn’t as simple as the first time. She wasn’t young and single. She wasn’t available in the way Rebecca had been, and there were so many more circumstances that stood in the way on both sides.

  I enjoyed Mike’s company. I wanted her in my arms again. The thought of holding her, kissing her, bringing her to my house again one day—the more it seemed like it might be possible, the more something inside me began to back away. I could feel it happening, could almost explain it to myself. Could just about give my fear and uncertainty a name.

  Rebecca.

  Was I being unfaithful somehow? She had told me to move forward, to love again… but how could I really do that and still honor what we had shared?

  The closer my heart moved toward Mike, the further it had to move from Rebecca, and that wasn’t right. I couldn’t allow myself to betray the love that changed my life, could I?

  The following morning, I pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, grabbed my jacket and headed to the diner for breakfast. I couldn’t be alone in the echoing shell of my house for another minute. I knew there was a chance I’d see Mike there, and found myself both wishing for it and hoping she’d stay at the Inn and eat there.

  Relief and disappointment washed through me in equal measure when I entered the diner and there was no sign of Mike or Finn.

  “Palmer,” Adele drawled in her usual half-confrontational sneer. I knew it wasn’t malicious, and so I gave her my best smile and turned on the Chance Palmer charm everyone expected. It was as good a cover as any for the confusion clouding my mind.

  “You’re looking lovely this morning, Adele,” I told her. “Frank is a lucky man.”

  “He puts up with me,” she said flatly, but I could see a little pink pricking high in her cheeks. She wasn’t a bad lady—she and Frank had been through a lot in their earlier days, and the diner was really all they had left. I felt for her, and this morning I felt more of a kinship with the older couple than before. I made a mental note to invite them to dinner sometime soon.

  A bear claw with a side of western omelet just about restored my optimism—about the potential for bringing in a McLaren Resort win for Palmer Construction if nothing else. I kissed Adele on the cheek and wandered over to the Inn, where Mike and Finn were waiting, Finn practically climbing a stuffed black bear that stood in the corner of the lobby.

  “Going to ride the great beast?” I asked him as he appeared to contemplate leaping onto the bear’s back. He was dressed as himself today, though the Batman cape was slung over his little shoulders and tied over the top of his Lego sweatshirt.

  “Can I?” His whole face brightened, but Mike dashed his hopes.

  “Absolutely not.” She pointed to a couple low tables in the corner of the lobby, one of which was scattered with small plastic pieces. Legos, I realized. “You have your project to work on, and we have people to meet for a couple hours. After that we’ll get lunch and go for a hike, okay?”

  Finn’s lip jutted out, but he obediently slunk over to the table and began to concentrate on assembling something out of the little bricks, intensely focused on the instruction book spread in front of him.

  “He can work on Legos for hours,” Mike said, lifting a shoulder.

  The mountain air agreed with her. A rosy cast lit her cheeks and her eyes were bright and deep. Her hair hung in thick dark waves around her shoulders, and the turtleneck sweater she wore emphasized her fit frame. Everything in me wanted to lean close and take her in my arms—everything except th
e strange vacuum in my chest that seemed to be swirling and growing there. Physically, everything was clear. Mike and I had a connection that pulled me as surely as a magnet. If only my mind didn’t force me to stick an image of Rebecca front and center constantly, if only a little voice in my head didn’t chant, “remember her, remember her,” every time I felt like I was growing closer to Mike.

  “Are you ready for this?” I asked, forcing those words into the place of so many others I wished I could say instead.

  She gave me a quizzical look, her lips pressed together in a half smile, and she nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

  We met for several hours with the different subcontractors I’d brought in at Michaela’s request. We covered details of the build and operations, and she pulled out competing quotes from subs she’d researched. When I’d shown surprise at the first set of unexpected competitive figures, she raised her eyebrows at me. “I can’t just take your word for everything, Chance. You do have a bit to gain here.” She’d leaned in close, giving me whiff of her honey citrus scent as the first set of subcontractors had driven away. “I evaluated two other construction firms too, you know.”

  I couldn’t help the frank stare I gave her. She’d thought about using someone beside Palmer? In Kings Grove?

  “Settle down,” she laughed. “They all told me I’d be a moron to use anyone but Palmer. You guys have this place wired.”

  “It’s true,” I assured her, relieved.

  The morning slid away, and I began to feel a distance from the mire of confusion in which I’d spent my sleepless night. Mike and I worked well together, and the atmosphere between us was easy, if a little sexually charged. I enjoyed her company, her quick wit, her determination, and her intelligence, which was clear in every question she asked as we talked through details of the resort she was planning. She was a force to be reckoned with, and despite my confusion over what loyalties I might be betraying where Rebecca was concerned, I couldn’t deny my desire to be close Mike—as close as she’d let me.

  “Ready to hike, Finn?” I asked the little guy after we’d all taken a break for lunch, which we’d eaten out on the sweeping deck of the Inn, despite the quickly dropping temperature.

  Mike gazed up at the dark clouds skidding over the village. “Think it’s still a good time to head out?”

  “I’ve got a four-wheeler halfway up just in case,” I said. I’d had a couple of the guys on Cam’s crew drive one halfway up the ridge the day before, doing my best to be prepared for the forecast.

  She gave me a smile that I hoped was full of admiration for my thoughtful planning, and we bundled up and headed out. Before long we were a good two miles from the Inn, standing on the low point of the ridge that separated the Park from the sweeping forest beyond. The Great Western Divide was visible in front of us, with mountain tops poking up through veils of clouds and mist in every direction we could see. The clouds had moved in and down behind us, and looking back toward Kings Grove it was clear we were in for some kind of weather.

  “This is incredible,” Mike said, breathless as she gazed around her.

  Even Finn was impressed, standing still and counting mountains from one side of the horizon to the next. “Two million,” he declared.

  I laughed, and it was the first time since Mike and Finn had come back that I felt truly light and free. The clear air had helped move the questions from my mind and heart, and I smiled up into the sky as the first snowflakes drifted down around us.

  Chapter 14

  Michaela

  “Mom …” Finn’s voice was breathless, and when he called me from where he stood on a boulder just off the trail slightly below where we stood looking at out the most incredible view I’d ever seen, it was a mix of wonder and confusion.

  “It’s snowing, Finn,” I said, my own voice full of wonder too. It didn’t snow in Fresno. Not really. We’d had a flurry or two here and there, but we did not live in a place where it was expected or regular, so snow still held an element of magic, even for me. For Finn? It was like seeing a dragon fly overhead.

  Chance stood watching us, a strange half-smile on his face as Finn and I stared up at the sky, which seemed to be disintegrating into white irregular shards and drifting down around us.

  It was just a flake here or there at first, but within seconds, it was snowing for real, heavy flakes filling the air all around us.

  “Chance,” Finn said, leaping off the rock and dancing in front of him. “You were right! It’s snowing!”

  Chance grinned at him and laughed, and then looked over at me. “I guess we’d better start down. If this keeps up, it’s gonna stick.”

  Finn and I led the way back down the trail we’d climbed to get to the ridge, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer beauty of the place. It was hard to believe this lay just a couple hours from the place I’d grown up, that I’d never come here as a child. I’d have to bring my mother here.

  “Do you think we’re going to get stuck up here?” I laughed as the words came out, half of me hoping we would get snowed in. It seemed an easy fix for all the things facing me back at home: Sorry, can’t handle that right now. I’m snowed in in Kings Grove. Oh well.

  “It’s supposed to go all night,” Chance said. “So depending on how much comes down, I guess it’s a possibility.”

  Finn was stopping every few minutes to raise his arms and open his mouth to the descending flakes, and even though my mind was telling me the smart thing would be to leave as soon as possible and avoid getting stuck, I already knew I wasn’t going to. I was going to throw caution to the wind for once. I was going to let my kiddo see snow for the first time—real snow, piled up enough to build a snowman. And I was going to let myself relax, even just for a day. We were still working, after all. We could work in snow.

  The snow floated lazily around us as we descended the steep trail, and before long Chance and I were walking side by side as Finn galloped and leapt ahead of us. The landscape, which was magical before, had transformed, and I had the sense we were wandering through a dream, or a fantasy, together. The woods had grown quiet, the cacophony of forest birds silenced by the sudden change in atmosphere. The solid and sturdy presence of the man at my side was a reassurance—a welcome part of this strange displacement to a suddenly cozy wintry scene, and when our fingers brushed accidentally as we negotiated the path, when his hand caught mine and held it, I didn’t let myself think about all the reasons why this shouldn’t be happening. I let him hold my hand, the warm certainty of Chance Palmer telegraphing comfort up my arm, across my chest and throughout my entire body.

  Finn spun around at one point, his mouth wide in excitement, and dropped his eyes to where our hands were connected. For a second I considered pulling away, not wanting to confuse my son, but Finn’s smile only widened when he saw us holding hands, and he turned back to the wonder of the snow without a word.

  “The four-wheeler’s just over here,” Chance said once we’d gotten down the steepest part of the trail. “You’re probably ready to go get warmed up.” He squeezed my fingers and met my eyes for a long second before turning off the trail and leading us to a wide flat spot set off from a dirt road I hadn’t noticed before. “This is the fire road,” he explained. “It doesn’t go quite to the top, but it lets equipment get back here when it needs to.”

  Finn’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he spotted the ATV Chance was preparing. “Can I drive?”

  “Not a chance,” he laughed, his eyes meeting mine again. Every time our eyes met, my stomach swooped and a little spark lit in my blood. I couldn’t help feeling like something was coming, like every glance, every touch, was a promise, like it was all building to something. And no matter what my practical business brain said, my body hoped it was true. “You get to wear this awesome helmet, though,” Chance said, handing each of us a helmet and then putting one on himself.

  Finn sat behind Chance on the long seat, and I scooted onto the back, sandwiching my son between u
s as I held onto the utility rack on the back. Finn’s little arms wrapped Chance’s waist, and I felt a pang of affection, looking at the tiny boy of my heart pressed up safely against the strong sure Chance. My heart surged and I felt a smile come to my lips unbidden. Chance Palmer made me happy. He made Finn happy, too.

  I didn’t have more time to think about it because a moment later, we were motoring down the wide dirt road, snow flying around us as the sound of the vehicle shattered the silence. Finn whooped and laughed excitedly, and I felt like my heart might actually explode. He was a mostly happy kid these days, but he’d been guarded and a little bit reserved since he was a toddler. Since…everything, as if he didn’t quite trust the world he inhabited not to hurt him, as if he didn’t quite trust the adults around him not to disappoint or frighten him. I couldn’t blame him. His earliest memories were undoubtedly unsettling—Jeff and I arguing, doors slamming, me crying…and Jeff pushing me against the wall that final time before he was gone for years. That’s why it was wonderful to see my little boy laughing without restraint, embracing the wonder of a heavy snowfall, a ride on a four-wheeler. He was behaving exactly as an eight-year old should, maybe for the first time ever, and I hadn’t realized what a relief it would be to see it happen.

  Chance guided us back to the Palmer Construction offices, and ushered us inside where it was warm and cozy. Finn’s cheeks were red and his eyes were shining with excitement. I took his hands as Sam and Miranda welcomed us.

  “Are you cold?” I asked.

  He grinned, looking at his red hands. “Only my hands.” His smile dropped and his face became serious. “Mom,” he said, and I wondered what had changed his attitude so fast. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had.”

  I laughed, and Miranda stepped up holding a mug. “Finn, I thought you might want some hot chocolate after your hike.” A big marshmallow bobbed at the top of the cup.

  “Yes please,” Finn said.