A Fall from Yesterday: A Hearts of Harkness Romance (The Standish Clan Book 1)

by Norah Wilson

  “I want to. You want to. We’re consenting adults.”

  “Ocean…”

  “I know, I know. You’re leaving soon.” She’d gone up on tiptoe, circling his neck with her arm. “But you haven’t left yet. I can’t think of one sane reason why we should deny ourselves the bit of time we do have.”

  Apparently, neither could he.

  He’d covered her mouth in a hard, demanding kiss and she’d gone up in flames. They had made inventive use of the bed, finishing with Ocean on top so she could see the passion in his face and let her hands roam his magnificent upper body.

  Afterward, Titus lit a fire in the stove and carried water in to heat in two big pots. Soon they had reasonably warm water to pour into that homemade contraption. She’d gone first—Titus had insisted, since the water would be warmer. Not that she’d argued.

  Outside, Titus was finishing up. She watched the last of the water drain out of the bucket. He made one final, exaggerated shudder. Ocean shivered sympathetically and pulled the quilt more tightly around her.

  Still smiling, she turned away from the window. Her gaze fell on the stove, where the fire had begun to burn down.

  There was one more thing she could take care of before they left the mountain.

  Grabbing her backpack, she went to sit on the floor in front of the stove, maneuvering herself so that the quilt was both under and around her. Then she fished the elastic band-bound sheaf of papers out of her bag.

  Judging Kate. She flipped through the pages, not just Roz’s comments but the words she’d written. She was still doing so when Titus came barreling in. She looked up to see him there, so big and hardy and gorgeous, smelling of Sunlight laundry bar soap and the outdoors. His jeans were zipped but not buttoned and his flannel shirt hung open over those amazing pecs and washboard abs. But it was the smile on his face that lit her up inside.

  He kicked his boots off by the door. “Brrrr. That was the coldest shower I’ve—” He broke off when he saw what she was holding in her hands. “What are you doing?”

  She sighed. “Saying goodbye to Judging Kate. Ashes to ashes.”

  “Hey, you traded that to me, fair and square.” He came to sit on the floor beside her. “Which means it’s mine. You can’t burn it.”

  “Really?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Then where’s my map?”

  “Umm...”

  “Exactly.” She smiled in a very checkmate way. “Since you destroyed what you gave me for it, I think we effectively traded back.” A few droplets of water glistened on his bare chest. She put a fingertip to one of them and felt how cool his skin was. He was usually like a furnace, so the water had to have been pretty cold. Even if it wasn’t, the air was cold enough to chill dry skin, let alone wet skin. “I know what I’m doing, Titus. I really do.”

  He pushed a strand of damp hair from her forehead, tucking it carefully behind her ear.

  “Babe, you’ve taken some knocks, no question. Collected some battle scars. But to burn the manuscript? Remember what we talked about on the mountain. You can’t quit writing—”

  “Who’s quitting? Roz said I need more emotion in my work. Well, all right then. She wants emotion? I’ll show her emotion.”

  Titus’s smile slowly widened until it surely matched her own. With one swift motion, he cranked the stove door open.

  She poked the pile of sheets inside onto the dully glowing embers. Sparks flew around it and fire began licking over the pages. “I can do so much better than that.”

  He lifted her onto his lap and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, but exquisitely tender. Yet it was also tinged with sadness.

  He lifted his head and the regret in his eyes slayed her. He drew his thumb over her lower lip, making her shiver. His hand dropped away. “Of all the things I’m going to miss when I leave here, Ocean Siliker, I think I’m going to miss you the most.”

  For a moment, emotion clogged her throat. She swallowed hard. “You’re not rid of me yet, Titus Standish. And you won’t be until you actually go. If you’ve got a problem with that, you’d better speak now, because I expect to see you at least once a day until you leave.” She cupped his face fiercely with her hands. “Are we good?”

  His smile chased away the shadows in his eyes. “We’re very good.”

  She kissed him. Hard. Then she scrambled off his lap and stood, holding her hand out to him. “Let’s go home.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He grasped her hand and let her help him up.

  Chapter 25

  TITUS LED the way down the mountain and out toward the parking lot, being careful to match his pace to Ocean’s. But when the vehicles came into sight—his F250, Faye Siliker’s red Audi, and the shiny Escalade belonging to the hiker Ember was attending to—the first thing he noticed was that his brother was nowhere to be seen. His mind leapt immediately to the message Ember had relayed through Scott: Tell Titus not to freak out.

  “Mind if I run on ahead?” he asked.

  Ocean’s gaze went to the vehicles. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t see Scott.”

  She waved him on. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you at the truck.”

  He gave her hand a squeeze of thanks, then turned and sprinted off.

  When he reached his truck, he unlocked it. Quickly, he unsnapped the straps on his heavy rucksack, shrugged out of it. Lowering the tailgate, he shoved his pack beneath the tarp and closed the gate. Then he went around to the driver’s side, where he opened the door and scanned the truck’s interior. Definitely lived in: bottled water, half a bag of Doritos, and an unopened pack of cigarettes lay on the passenger seat.

  Where the devil was Scott?

  This morning Titus had texted his brother that all was well. Ember had actually texted Titus too – Still w/patient; do NOT worry. She’d said she was sending the same text to Scott. Titus had half expected to hear from Scott about Ember taking so long with this patient, but he hadn’t heard a peep from him. And hadn’t really thought about it. Until now.

  He dug out his satellite phone and there it was—a text message from Scott.

  We need to have us a serious talk.

  Why hadn’t he heard—or at least felt—the message buzz in? He checked the time on the text and knew why. He and Ocean had been otherwise occupied. Nakedly occupied.

  And Scott wanted to have a serious talk? That could only mean one thing.

  His brother knew.

  Titus jammed the phone back in his pocket, pulled off his toque and threw it into the truck. He slammed the door behind him and ran a frustrated hand across his face. His dad must have told Scott. Dammit, why? Titus had asked him not to say anything about the sale to either Scott or Ember until he’d had a chance to speak to them first. He’d wanted the chance to frame it himself, to explain. And to ensure there was no negative blowback on Arden.

  He grimaced. God, he could hear Scott now. Why, bro? What made you think selling out our family’s heritage was the solution to your midlife crisis?

  “What’s wrong?” Ocean pulled up beside him, breathing heavily.

  “I got a text from Scott. He’s pissed.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” She fumbled to release the fasteners and dropped her pack on the ground.

  “I’m guessing he got it out of Arden.” Titus shook his head. “About selling the farm and Dad moving—”

  He broke off when he saw Scott rounding the bend on the river and heading their way. From his direction of approach, Titus knew he’d hiked downriver to check on Ember. As his brother drew closer, his eyes flashed anger and he picked up his pace, his strides long and purposeful.

  “Should I go?” Ocean whispered.

  Titus grabbed her hand. “No.”

  Ocean held his gaze a moment, then turned to smile at Scott, who had slowed at the sight of their clasped hands.

  “Hi, Scott,” Ocean said when he drew up in front of them. “Long time.”

  “Hey, Ocean.” Scott gave her a
hug. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Thanks for reassuring my mom the other night on the phone.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He hugged her a little too close and hung on a few seconds too long for Titus’s liking, so when Scott released her, Titus put his own arm around her shoulders.

  She looked up at him, clearly surprised by the PDA, but judging by the way she slid her arm around him and leaned into him, she was happy to roll with it.

  Scott grinned and Titus realized he’d been had. That extra-close hug had been strategic, designed to bring out a possessive display, and Titus had obliged.

  “I knew it,” Scott said. “You guys hooked up.”

  “It’s not what you think.” Ocean bit her lip, looked up at Titus.

  “Until Titus leaves.” Scott turned his gaze back to Titus. “Yeah, I know. Uncle Arden told me he’s selling the farm, and you’re gonna be headed west for RCMP training.”

  Had their father told him the rest? If Scott knew the buyer was WRP Holdings, wouldn’t he be angrier? Not that he looked especially chill…

  “Yeah, we need to talk about it. That’s why I wanted you and Ember home, so we could—”

  “Not to cut you off, bro—we’re definitely going to have a sit down over this whole business—but right now, we have a more pressing problem on our hands.”

  Titus stiffened. He’d been expecting the onslaught about the sale of the farm, was prepared to take it on the chin. Take responsibility. And try to make Scott see his side.

  If Scott’s intensity wasn’t about that, it had to be—

  “I don’t know where Ember is.”

  Scott’s words were a punch in the gut. “What do you mean you don’t know where she is? She texted us this morning. Didn’t you get her message?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Scott said. “Still with patient, don’t worry, yadda yadda.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, I’m plenty worried.” Scott had the best poker face of anyone Titus knew, but it wasn’t hard to read the concern in his features right now. “She’s not at Old Man Picard’s camp. I just came back from there. And yes, I did let myself in. Ember’s been there; I saw that red scarf she was wearing. But the camp was cold. Locked up. No one’s been there in at least a day.”

  “A day?” Titus cursed. He shouldn’t have let her go alone. He should have insisted she let Scott go with her.

  “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Ocean asked.

  Silence.

  The boys locked gazes.

  “The Escalade.” That was all Titus had to say, and he, Scott, and Ocean were marching toward it.

  “Is this his car?” Ocean asked. “The guy who needed the medical attention?”

  The guy would need a whole lot more medical attention if anything happened to his sister. “It is,” Titus confirmed. “And I need to know the son of a bitch’s name.”

  He unzipped a pocket on the left sleeve of his coat and fished out a small sheet of notepaper. There it was, the keyless entry code for the Escalade.

  He punched in the digits. All four doors unlocked. And Titus jumped in behind the wheel. A second later, Scott was around the car and in the passenger seat beside him. Titus searched the console while Scott rifled through the glove compartment. Ocean jumped into the back. “Anything?” she asked, leaning forward between the luxurious bucket seats.

  Titus shook his head. “Not yet.”

  There had to be something, though.

  “Ah, Christ.”

  “What?” Titus said.

  Scott slammed the glove compartment shut. “You’re not going to like this.” Grimly, he handed Titus an envelope. “I sure as fuck don’t.”

  Titus looked at the envelope and the name scrawled on it in Titus’s own handwriting.

  “What is it?” Ocean asked. “Is Ember in trouble?”

  “Of a sort, maybe. I don’t know.” He turned in the seat to meet her anxious eyes. “She’s with Jace Picard.”

  Dammit. Dammit all to hell.

  Chapter 26

  HOME.

  Ocean sat curled up in the most comfortable chair in the off-the-kitchen den, a soft crocheted afghan tucked around her legs. In both hands she clasped a steaming mug of hot chocolate her mother had pushed on her. Her usual beverage of choice was tea, hot, black and unsweetened, but she had to admit that in this case, her mother knew best. She could almost feel the sugar hitting her bloodstream.

  Her mother was currently whipping up fried egg sandwiches for them, which in the Siliker house was comfort food second only to homemade mac-and-cheese.

  God knew she could use a little comfort.

  And that was enough of that thinking. She’d had enough with the self-pity. Six years of it, in fact. Enough to last a lifetime.

  So stop it. Think of something else.

  She glanced around the room, with its shelves of trophies and memorabilia from her and River’s school years. The awards River had won for dance. The “World’s Greatest Mom-ster” mug the two of them had made for their mom at summer camp when Ocean was nine and River eleven. And on the wall by the door hung a framed copy of a newspaper clipping from the Prince Region Weekly of a much younger Ocean Siliker wearing a poppy and holding a small trophy. The caption read: Local Girl Wins Provincial Remembrance Day Essay Contest.

  The off-the-kitchen den had been her mother’s idea. When they were growing up, the room had served as a large pantry. But with the house emptied out, her mother had declared she had no use for all that food storage space anymore and wanted to turn it into a den. The three of them—Ocean, River, and their mom—had transformed it a few years ago when the sisters had both been home for a week. And it totally worked as a cozy little place for family treasures and comfy chairs.

  Her mother had been doing more downsizing within the enormous house since, as Ocean had discovered on her return. In fact, she’d converted the sitting room into a bedroom. When she’d asked about it, her mother had said she’d done it so she could stop heating the upstairs in the winter, but Ocean suspected it was so she wouldn’t have to do the stairs anymore.

  The old cuckoo clock on the wall whirred to life. The bedraggled bird popped out, announced that it was two o’clock, then disappeared back inside its door.

  Two o’clock. It had already been a long day, considering she’d climbed White Crow Cliff, detoured to the cabin, made love with Titus, then trekked down the mountain. And the day promised to be much, much longer. Her mother was in full hover mode. Not that Ocean blamed her. And not that the TLC wasn’t welcome. When she’d gotten home around one, her mother had drawn her a hot bath, pressed some Tylenol on her, and laid out her fleeciest, warmest pajamas. And now she was making lunch.

  Except that left Ocean with nothing to do but reflect. Remember. Relive.

  She stared down into her steaming cup. The marshmallows had fully melted.

  Dammit. To finally have Titus in her arms, to have that intimacy she’d so yearned for, only to discover he’d soon be all but gone from her life. Gone from Harkness. It gave her such a hollow feeling to think about it.

  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to regret their lovemaking. She’d found something in his arms.

  Ocean heard the toaster pop and the scrape of a knife as her mother buttered the toast in the small kitchen around the corner. There would be a hunk of cheese on the plate with that sandwich. A slice of cantaloupe; probably a few strawberries. Her mom could write the cookbook on comfort food. It made her throat tighten, knowing her mother was trying to make everything right. Or at least righter.

  Righter?

  Ocean almost smiled.

  But the thing was…it didn’t feel wrong, the time she’d had with Titus. Too short, sadly, but not wrong. He’d scraped the inside of her heart; maybe woken up a part of it. A Titus-only part of it. And now he was leaving.

  Her mother rounded the corner, bearing a laden tray and a bright smile. Ocean was struck anew by how pretty Faye Siliker still was. She’
d always had a strong elegance about her. And she’d needed to be strong. She raised two daughters alone on a teacher’s salary. As if that wasn’t enough, she’d taken on a number of foster kids over the years, kids who’d needed turning around. She’d definitely had the patience, temperament, and discipline to facilitate that.

  Her mother set the tray on the coffee table and sat down across from Ocean, unfolding one of the napkins on her knees. Ocean rocked forward enough to snag a napkin herself. A glance at the tray showed the anticipated slice of melon, but it was paired with grapes instead of strawberries. She smiled and popped a grape into her mouth. What were the chances she could get through this meal without being grilled about her time on Harkness Mountain with Titus the Titan?

  “So, was it everything you hoped it would be?”

  Well that hadn’t taken long.

  She knew her mother was talking about Titus, but still she said, “Climbing White Crow, you mean?”

  “You climbed that high?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mother’s smile didn’t break, but by the look in her eyes, Ocean knew what she was thinking. Lacey Douglas.

  “Well, that’s nice, dear, but I was actually asking about your nights with Titus Standish.”

  “Our nights?” Ocean slumped down in her chair. “Mom, it’s not like we were out dancing the night away or dining in an intimate restaurant. We were roughing it.”

  “Scott said you stayed a night in the cabin up there.”

  “We did,” Ocean said. “Did you know it was up there?”

  “The moonshine cabin? Yes, I knew. I’ve been there, actually.”

  Ocean’s eyes widened. “You have? When? With Margaret Standish, I suppose. I know you two were friends—”

  Her mother sent her a reproving look. “Don’t try to distract me, young lady. I want to hear about your time with Titus.”

  “Didn’t I tell you on the phone that he was the perfect gentlemen?”

  “You did,” she said agreeably. “And now I’d love to hear all about it.”

  Ocean stared down into her hot chocolate. What was she supposed to say? That she’d spent the most incredible night of her life with Titus Standish in that cave? That they’d made love again at the cabin? That she never wanted to let him go, but had to do just that?