Ursula returned. Mac decided not to mention Chandler’s information yet. She had enough on her mind. If and when he learned more, he’d fill her in. She handed him one of the foam cups. “It’s hot. Let it cool a little before you drink.”
Mac grinned. “Yes, ma’am. It’s not as though I’ve ever drank coffee before.”
“Sorry.” She chuckled. “I guess I’ve gotten used to looking out for Rory.”
“You’re always looking out for everyone.” He set his coffee on the table and touched her hand. “Maybe sometimes you need to let other people look out for you.”
“That’s a hard one for me,” she said, “but I admit, having you along on all this legal stuff has been a tremendous help.”
“I haven’t done anything.” A fact he found increasingly frustrating. He should have been able to help her, to make everything better for her and Rory, but all he could do was sit by and watch the drama unfold.
“You’ve been there beside me lending me your strength. And you’ve acted as my sounding board. When I talk it over with you, it gives me confidence that I’m doing the right thing for Rory. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
Mac knew exactly what she would have done. She would have fought for Rory’s well-being, no matter how hard it was. He was just glad if his presence made it any easier.
Before he could formulate a response, Ursula spoke again. “I took your advice and talked to my lawyer about not reporting Sam’s mother missing. She said it would depend on the judge. Some are real sticklers for procedure. Others, not so much.” She opened the drinking spout on her cup but set it down without drinking it. “I hate to think Rory’s fate would be based on random judge assignment.”
“I’m sure even the most regimented judges would weigh the pros and cons, not base their decisions on one incident.”
Ursula nodded, and this time she did take a sip. She wrinkled her nose. “Bitter. Did I give you the one with the cream?”
“Can’t handle the hard stuff, huh?” He chuckled and exchanged cups with her. “I’ve been known to drain multiple pots of strong coffee when I’m on a deadline.”
“I’ve always heard writers drank, but I thought they were talking about whiskey.”
“I’ve been known to take a medicinal sip now and again,” Mac admitted, “but my vice is caffeine.” To prove his point, Mac swallowed a healthy slug of the strong brew.
They’d almost finished their coffee when the social worker brought Rory back. As soon as she rounded the corner, she broke into a run and rushed to Ursula’s chair. “Can we go see Griffin now?”
“Of course.” Ursula handed Rory her jacket. “How was your visit?” Ursula made eye contact with the social worker over Rory’s shoulder, who gave a reassuring smile.
“Okay,” Rory said. “They said I could call them Grandmother and Granddaddy, but they didn’t tell funny stories like Grandma Gen used to. Mostly they just talked about people and stuff. Coaches or something. They were nice, though. They showed me some pictures of Colorado, where Mommy used to ski. I told them about school, and my friends, and Frankie.”
“That’s good.”
The social worker put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Bye, Rory. It was nice to meet you.”
“Bye, Wendy.” Rory turned to Mac. “Are you going with us to see Griffin?”
“That’s the plan. Then I hear we’re all going out to eat.” Mac collected the empty cups and crossed the room to throw them away. From his vantage point, he could see down the hall. Mr. and Mrs. Normand stepped out of a doorway and took a few steps toward him before turning down another hall. Busy with her phone, she didn’t notice Mac standing there, but Mr. Normand looked toward him. The man seemed pale, shaken. They held eye contact for a long moment, before he nodded and turned to follow his wife.
“Come on, Mac. Let’s go!” Rory called. Mac accompanied them down the stairs and held the door for Ursula and Rory.
He stepped outside in time to see the Normands crossing the street. Something about the weariness in the man’s step struck a chord with Mac. Mac dug in his pocket for the keys and turned to Ursula. “Say, I just remembered an errand I need to run downtown. Why don’t you and Rory take the car to Sam’s, and we can meet at the restaurant later. We’re still eating at Simon and Seafort’s, right?”
“Uh, all right.” Ursula eyed him suspiciously, but she took the keys.
“Don’t you want to see Griffin?” Rory demanded.
“I do, but he’s coming to dinner, isn’t he? I’ll see him then.”
“Come on, Rory,” Ursula said. “You and Griffin can sit by Mac at the restaurant. He’ll love that.” Her grin let him know she was kidding, but Mac didn’t mind if he did sit between them. He liked being around the baby, almost as much as he enjoyed spending time with Rory. And if this hunch panned out, he was going to enjoy it a lot more.
* * *
IT WAS A long shot. By the time Ursula and Rory were in the car and on their way, the Normands were out of sight. Since they were walking, Mac assumed the couple was staying nearby, so he looked around for the nearest high-rise five-star hotel. He dialed the desk and asked to be transferred to their room.
“One moment, please.” The call rang through and Mac hung up.
He gave it about twenty minutes, strolling through the square and in front of the downtown shops and restaurants. His breath turned white in the frosty air. Finally, he walked into the lobby of the hotel, past the mural of early Alaskan achievements, and took the elevator to the bar on the top floor.
It didn’t take long to locate Mr. Normand, sitting alone at a table, staring into a glass containing a smidge of dark liquid. “May I join you?”
He looked up and regarded Mac. “My lawyer wouldn’t like it.”
“No, I don’t imagine either of the lawyers would approve.”
He shrugged. “I’m not all that enamored with lawyers just now. Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” A waiter popped over to take their order. Mac nodded at the glass. “Two more of those, please.”
“Right away.” He disappeared as noiselessly as he’d appeared.
Mr. Normand studied Mac’s face for a moment. “You’re that writer, aren’t you? The one whose daughter was murdered.” His voice was matter-of-fact, conveying neither shock nor pity. Mac appreciated that.
“Yes, I am.”
“Why are you in Alaska? I thought you were in Oklahoma.”
“I was. But I had to get away, after everything.”
“So you know what it’s like.”
“To lose a child? Yes, I know what it’s like.”
Mr. Normand drained his glass and set it on the table. “How did you know where to find me?”
“It wasn’t that hard. You looked like a man in need of a drink.”
“Yeah.” The waiter arrived with their glasses. Mr. Normand took a large sip before setting his on the table. “So why are you here?”
“Because of Rory. I’ve grown quite fond of her, and I don’t want to see her get caught up in a power struggle between adults.”
Finally, a brief smile broke through on Mr. Normand’s face. “She looks just like Kendall did at that age. More talkative, though. Rory’s quite a chatterbox.”
“Yes, she is. Big animal lover, too.” Mac tasted his drink and returned it to the table. “You won’t be able to get at Rory’s money, you know. The bank isn’t going to let it go without a struggle, and before you could work your way through that, it would be too late for your project.”
“I know.” Mr. Normand curled the edge of his cocktail napkin. “I assumed that would be the case. The money was just an excuse.”
“For what?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he asked, “Were you closely involved in raising your daughter, or did her mother make most of the decisions?”<
br />
“Andi’s mother died when she was a baby. I raised her alone.”
The man scratched his chin. “Kendall’s mother pretty much raised her alone, as well. I was around, but I was busy growing my business, especially once we moved to Colorado. Once in a while, I’d take Kendall out for some daddy time, but it was all too rare. Crystal was the one who made the parenting decisions. I didn’t always agree with those decisions, but I didn’t question her. She was the hands-on parent.”
“I see.”
“One of Crystal’s biggest rules was that there should be no empty threats. If Kendall didn’t follow the rules, she suffered the consequences. I remember her sixteenth birthday. Two days before, she was goofing off with her friends and showed up for practice half an hour late. Crystal grounded her for a week. We had a big party planned, and I tried to argue for a one-time exception, but Crystal was adamant. She cancelled the party.”
She sounded like a tyrant, but Mac couldn’t fault her basic premise. “Discipline is important.”
“Discipline is everything, according to Crystal. And for the most part, she was right. Kendall excelled, both at sports and academics. She got a lot of attention, but it didn’t turn her head. She was a sweet girl.”
“Yes. I never met your daughter, but I saw her interviews and special reports when she was competing. Her personality sparkled.”
“Sparkled. That’s exactly what Kendall was like.” Mr. Normand stared at some point past Mac’s shoulder, no doubt lost in memories of his daughter. “She sparkled.”
He still hadn’t answered why he was here for Rory, but Mac had a feeling pushing him for more information wasn’t the way to go. “As I said, I know what it’s like to lose a daughter you love. I also know about regrets.”
Mr. Normand returned his gaze to Mac. “Do you? Did you allow yourself to be separated from your daughter because she had the gall to want to live her own life?” He shook his head. “I always thought we’d reconcile. I knew Crystal wouldn’t back down, but I thought Kendall would eventually reach out, smooth things over. She was good at that. But it never happened.” His voice broke and he took another drink before continuing. “I shouldn’t have waited for her to make the first move. I should have stepped in, done something. I certainly should have met my granddaughter before she was eight years old. That’s inexcusable.”
A familiar flood of grief washed over Mac. “I have different regrets. Things I should have seen. Things I should have done. It’s too late. My daughter is gone. So is yours. But you’re lucky. Rory’s still here.”
“I was useless as a father.” Moisture glistened in his eyes. “I allowed myself to be pushed to the edges of Kendall’s life. I had to make up this excuse about the money to convince Crystal we should check on our own granddaughter. She’d told Kendall if she moved away she was cut off from the family forever and she was sticking to that, even after Kendall died.”
“She seems interested in Rory now.”
“She wasn’t. Said Kendall made her choice. It wasn’t until she saw Rory cross that finish line on Sunday that she suddenly changed her mind. She’s still after that gold medal.”
“But you’d filed for custody before that.”
“It was a ploy. Get her guardian worried she might lose custody and then settle for management of the trust. At least that’s what I told Crystal. Mostly, I just wanted a chance to see her.”
“So you have no intention of taking Rory away from Ursula?”
“We didn’t. But now...” He hesitated. “Crystal’s seeing visions of gold. And how can I turn my back on my own granddaughter? Shouldn’t we take her in, raise her? Don’t we owe Kendall that much?”
Mac didn’t speak immediately. When he did, he kept his voice gentle. “It’s not about you, or Kendall, or what you might owe her. It’s about Rory, and what’s best for her. Tell me something. I understand your wife was a phenomenal ice skater. Does she still skate?”
“Crystal?” He snorted. “She hasn’t put on a pair of skates since we married. After she didn’t make the national team, she joined a traveling ice show. She hated it. To her, it symbolized failure. She was convinced if she’d only started earlier, gotten better training, she would have had the gold. Before Kendall was even born, Crystal was strategizing her career.”
“From what Ursula tells me, your daughter loved to ski, and she and her husband shared that love with Rory since she was a baby. They skied for the joy of it.”
“Yes. She did look happy on Sunday.”
“She always looks happy when she’s skiing. Don’t take that joy away.”
The man frowned into his drink and he shook his head. “You think we should just go away? Pretend we never met her?”
“No. You’re Rory’s grandfather. You should be part of her life. But don’t let your guilt drive you to do something that’s not in Rory’s best interest. Ursula was there the day she was born, and she’s been a part of Rory’s life ever since. They love each other. Let Rory stay where she’s happy.”
“Rory’s happy? After all that’s happened to her?”
“Yes.” Mac was certain of this. “She has bad days and she misses her family, but in spite of that, she’s happy. She’s a remarkable child.”
“But after all we’ve put her through, would Mrs. Anderson be willing to let us be a part of Rory’s life?”
“I think you’ll find Ursula has an amazing capacity for forgiveness. I warn you, though, if she thinks you’re doing anything to harm that child, she’ll fight you with everything she’s got. She loves Rory with her whole heart.”
Mr. Normand eyed him. “And you? You said you’re fond of Rory, but it seems to me you have strong feelings for Mrs. Anderson, as well.”
“Ursula is my neighbor and my friend. I have great admiration for her.”
Rory’s grandfather laughed. “Okay, if that’s what you want to call it. I’ll think about what you’ve said. It makes sense.”
“Will your wife go along with your decision?”
“I believe so, eventually. She’d never admit it, but she’s been miserable ever since Kendall left. It’s time for her to let go.”
Mac reached out his hand. “Good talking with you, Mr. Normand.”
“Drake.” He accepted Mac’s hand and shook it.
“Drake. And I’m Mac. I hope we meet again.”
“I’m almost certain we will. And this time, I’d like to think we’ll be on the same side of the table.”
* * *
“LEAVE IT, BLOSSOM. Come.” The dog had almost buried herself in the snow under a tree, digging for a shrew or something she’d scented. She never caught them, but she enjoyed the chase. Mac adjusted his ski pole before continuing along the trail toward Ursula’s B&B, where he’d been invited for dinner “to celebrate.”
Ursula wouldn’t say what they were celebrating, but Mac had a pretty good idea. Today was Tuesday. When he’d left Drake Friday evening, the man had been doing some serious thinking. He’d had the whole weekend to convince his wife that their best chance to stay in Rory’s life was to get in the good graces of the woman Rory’s parents had chosen, and probably talked it over with their lawyer on Monday.
Drake was more perceptive than Mac had given him credit for. After meeting Rory, he’d understood that she needed to stay where she was comfortable, that the constant pressure to perform wasn’t what she needed.
Drake was perceptive about more than Rory. He’d easily seen through Mac’s declaration of admiration for Ursula. And he was right. Mac hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but the more time he spent with Ursula, the more he wanted to spend. She and Rory were rapidly becoming the center of his life, and he wanted it to stay that way.
Could it possibly work? Mac had decided long ago he wasn’t husband material. He’d failed miserably at his one foray into marriage. A good husband would have realized
from their phone calls that Carla was depressed, would have asked the right questions. A good husband would have done something to help before it was too late.
But that was a long time ago, and he’d been overseas when it happened. He’d matured since then. He’d raised a daughter, and while he regretted some of the decisions he’d made along the way, she’d grown into a woman he was proud of. Her death didn’t cancel that out. Maybe he hadn’t done everything wrong.
Would Ursula even want him? Yes, she seemed to care for him, but then she was a kind and caring person. She’d responded to his kisses, but attraction wasn’t the same as love.
Love? Was he really thinking about love? His mind had somehow jumped from friendship to marriage without giving a name to his feelings. Ironic for a man who made his living with words.
Did he love Ursula? What did it even mean? He was happier when she was around. He cared about her, wanted what was best for her. Frankly, he admired her more than anyone he’d ever known. But did he love her?
He thought back on their time together. The laughter around the kitchen table when they’d all played cards during the snowstorm. Her warm smile that welcomed him. The way she felt in his arms when she’d finally let go and cried out her frustrations and fears. As though his empty arms were finally fulfilling their intended purpose. To hold her.
Blossom ran over and planted her feet in front of his, staring up at him. He laughed and brushed the snow off her fleece jacket. “Yes, I’m daydreaming again. Sorry. If you’ll get off my skis, we can head on over. I’m sure Ursula has a biscuit waiting for you.”
At the mention of Ursula’s name, Blossom’s tail wagged. She turned and galloped forward on the trail, looking over her shoulder to make sure Mac was following. He chuckled. He wasn’t the only one who’d fallen in love with Ursula Anderson.
Mac was panting by the time he arrived at the inn. In the distance from his cabin to the B&B, Rory would just have been warming up. Blossom sniffed around the trees surrounding the inn, no doubt looking for signs of Frankie the squirrel, while Mac caught his breath and removed his skis. He left them on the porch and whistled for the dog.
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