Given the fact that she’d fallen asleep on his lap, it could be he hadn’t actually slept at all.
While she’d apparently had one of the best sleeps in nearly two years—no memory of sleepwalking, even if she had apparently wandered.
And the way he could listen, always knowing the right words, no judgment.
It was, in fact, the first thing that made her love him.
Love him.
No. No . . .
She watched as Howard struggled to his feet, balancing on his new bride’s shoulder. Ben came around and hoisted him up on his back.
Okay, so she might still have feelings—yes, definitely feelings, all trapped inside a confusing tangle of memories and not a few might-have-beens.
And it didn’t help that she could still taste his kiss, could still feel the old hunger stirring inside her. She couldn’t deny the sense of peace that had settled over her as she sank into sleep.
But that was last night. Tomorrow, they had separate lives.
Except for Audrey.
She bound them together. Regardless of what mistakes they’d made thirteen years ago. Or last night.
Audrey was their Today.
And it was definitely time to tell her daughter about her amazing, superstar father.
She got up from the table. “Thank you, Lulu.”
Ben was already outside waiting for her, the sky blue overhead, the bouquet of summer in the breeze. He looked young, strong, and his smile could light up her entire body.
Today.
Sierra could admit that she’d secretly harbored a belief that Ian would end up on her doorstep, forgiveness and a to-do list in his grip.
A week later she convinced herself she had successfully moved on.
Clearly not needing him.
“You just started, Sierra! One day on the job and you’re already making cookies and spending every waking minute at the PEAK headquarters.” Blossom Rose, aka, her mother, sat up to the yellow Formica counter in Sierra’s house located just off Main Street.
“I like being there,” Sierra said.
“But you’re doing it again—giving your heart to something that can’t love you back.” Blossom reached over to the batch of fresh cookies cooling on wire racks. The kitchen smelled of chocolate chips and the kind of home that Sierra had always longed for.
For her part, she’d created it, with Willow, in this tiny two-story kit house. The furnishings might be from garage sales, but with the crazy quilt she’d made in high school home economics thrown over the sofa and an eclectic mix of refinished garage sale finds, the place felt homemade and cozy.
Audrey and Willow sat at the refinished pine table in the middle of the kitchen, playing a game of Dutch blitz.
“Chet and his team need me. Otherwise, Sam wouldn’t have asked for help.”
“Mom, you should see the place,” Willow said, not looking up from her game. She’d never felt the need to call Blossom by any of her crazy monikers. But Willow was like that—sang her own tune, just like their mother.
Sierra was grateful that Willow never received Sierra’s crazy, nearly unintelligible voicemail. Probably she’d simply rambled on, oblivious of the ending message beep, and all Willow got was a muffled voice, a request for her to pick up.
So, thankfully, no one knew how close she’d come to being another cautionary tale of giving your heart away.
“Sierra cleaned the entire kitchen, reorganized the office, filed all the reports by name, with a cross-reference system by date in the computer, created a schedule and a group texting system depending on the callout. Now she’s working on stocking the freezer.”
Sierra cast a glance at Willow, who looked up fast and winked at her. Her kid sister might be six years younger, but sometimes Willow seemed to be the older, protective one.
Then again, Willow grew up knowing her father, a soldier who still lived in Mercy Falls. Sierra’s best guess at her biological father was that he was one of a handful of men who lived with her mother at a spiritual colony in Missoula.
Not that ultra-feminist Blossom made any attempt at clarifying. “You don’t need a father—just another man in your life to own you, call you his.”
“I have no doubt Sierra poured herself into serving the team—that’s what she does,” Blossom said. “I still can’t believe you stayed with Ian for five years—I kept telling you that one day he’d move on, leave you with nothing.”
Sierra pulled the last batch of cookies from the oven, set the pan on a hot pad. “We weren’t dating, Blossom. He was my boss.”
Blossom rolled her eyes. “You gave him everything—your time, your energy, your youth, your heart. And he took it, then gave you your walking papers.”
And now, Sierra felt sure they weren’t talking about Ian. “Aside from the fact that Ian was my boss only”—she simply ignored the squeeze of her words—“I didn’t give him everything.”
She flicked a glance at Audrey, hoping her mother didn’t spiral into a feminist diatribe about men and “all they wanted from women.”
“All I’m saying is you need to watch what you give your heart to. Only you can make yourself happy, despite what that crazy pastor friend of yours says.”
“Chet isn’t crazy. The Bible says to do nothing out of selfishness, but to be humble. You don’t lose yourself when you serve others. It’s what Christ did.”
“And look what happened to him.”
Sierra opened her mouth, but her mother continued. “Bible, shmible. It’s just another rule book. Trust me—you give away your heart and you’ll never get it back. And Ian is the worst—he never saw how amazing and beautiful my Sierra is.” She slid off her stool, walked over, kissed her on her cheek. “Besides, it wouldn’t do us any good to have a repeat of the Rhett Thomas disaster.”
“Blossom—”
She held up a finger. “You know I’m right. In fact, you might think about taking a new name this time. Really wipe the slate clean.”
Her mother switched her name—not legally but in casual usage—whenever she felt a change of breeze in the seasons of her life. For nearly six years, during Sierra’s youth, she’d called herself Meadow. Then came the birth of Willow and a sweet stretch of time when Sierra had enjoyed what she believed might be a real family, with Willow’s dad, Jackson, moving into her mother’s cabin. With Willow’s arrival, her mother renamed herself Lilly, and during the next seven years she resembled the other mothers who made cookies, showed up occasionally at school for a parent-teacher conference, and actually cared if their kids had clean clothes, food on the table, and a father in their lives.
Until a Vacation Bible School at the Mercy Falls Community Church roped in Sierra and Willow, finally luring Jackson to the altar. Suddenly, her pseudo-father got ahold of grace and decided to do something unforgivable—propose to Lilly.
Judging by her mother’s reaction, he might as well have clamped a nose ring on her, and Sierra’s dream of home shattered. Jackson moved out, taking Willow with him every other weekend and during holidays.
Lilly moved through a handful of quick hookups, emerging into Blossom after she moved them all to a forty-acre artists’ commune north of Mercy Falls. Sierra learned to drive that year, and would pile Willow and two other kids into the community Ford truck and trek them an hour to school every morning.
Sierra simply refused to lose her grip on her taste of normal. She sneaked out to attend church, joined the youth group, and clung to the only real friend she had, Kacey Fairing. Because Kacey, for all her outward normalcy, knew exactly what it felt like to be the daughter of a woman with a questionable reputation.
Blossom swiped another cookie. “I’m late for my ride. Cooper is picking me up at the Last Chance.”
Sierra shot a look at Willow, then back to Blossom. “Cooper?”
“He’s a fellow artist. We’re heading out to the salvage yard.”
For all her mother’s eccentricities, she made a semi-decent living selling her metal scu
lptures—made from cast-aside tin cans, hubcaps, tools, rebar, and other items she picked up at the junkyard. Her line of barnyard animals—goats, chickens, sheep, and even a cow—caught on with a few celebrities over the years and now graced the front steps of a dozen or more Hollywood homes.
She watched her mother go. In her early fifties, Blossom was the beautiful one, with long tawny brown hair and a body that she kept fit with long hikes into the park.
Audrey slammed her hand down on the pile of cards. “Blitz!”
“Oh!” Willow shook her head, tossing down her cards. “You’re just way too fast for me.”
“My mom taught me. She’s really good.”
“So is Sierra,” Willow said. She gathered up the cards. “We have to run too. Youth group band practice.”
“Actually,” Audrey said, “I’m going to ride out to the PEAK ranch with Sierra. Mom’s coming in with that injured hiker, and I’m hoping to see Benjamin King again and ask him about the guitar lessons.”
Willow glanced at Sierra, the other Keeper of the Secret.
Now, Willow glanced back at Audrey. “Are you sure? Nate said you two were singing a duet this week at worship.”
“We practiced today at school.” Audrey got up, pulled her backpack over one shoulder. “Besides, Nate . . .” She sighed. “Nothing.”
Sierra looked up from where she was boxing cookies into a plastic container. “What’s nothing?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Ever since he broke his ankle, he’s been acting weird. Won’t talk to me at school and ignores me at band practice. It’s like . . .”
“He’s just embarrassed, honey. You saved him—that hurt his thirteen-year-old ego,” Willow said, gathering up her mesh bag and slipping into her Birkenstocks. “Men can be like that. They want to rescue us, not the other way around.” She scooped up her keys, glanced at Sierra. “By the way, for once I agree with Mom—you gave your heart to Ian, even if he was just your boss.”
Willow left, but her words lingered and pricked at Sierra as she packed up half the cookies, followed Audrey out to the car.
Audrey said nothing as they pulled out of the drive.
“Are you okay?”
“Who’s Rhett Thomas?”
Oh. Sierra slowed as they crept through the muddy streets, out onto Main, and toward the Shaw ranch.
She needed to stop thinking of PEAK as Ian’s. Just because it was located near Ian’s ranch didn’t mean she had to think of Ian wandering around the house in his stocking feet, his dark hair rumpled, wearing his workout pants and an old T-shirt.
“Rhett was the coach for the Mercy Falls Mavericks hockey team. You were probably too young to remember. He went on to play for the St. Paul Blue Ox. We dated while he was trying to get a shot at the majors.” She had probably frozen a significant portion of her backside following him to games during those early years. “I was pretty young—just out of high school. Your mom had left for the military, and Rhett, well, he was very cute.”
She looked over and winked at Audrey, a short and sweet way to end the conversation.
She’d just rather not elaborate on the protracted pain of watching him fall out of love with her and into the arms of a prettier, less clingy member of the Blue Ox ice crew.
Maybe she should have changed her name after that fiasco. Instead, she’d moved on to working for Ian.
And yes, maybe Blossom was right, had given the man her heart.
Not anymore. She had managed to land on her feet, her heart safely back in her chest, memories of Ian shut away into the past.
Sierra looked over at Audrey. “How are things with you and your mom?” she asked. Maybe Audrey needed a sounding board, someone who knew the situation.
Audrey stared out the window at the fields dotted with cattle, the arch of the sky stretching blue overhead. She lifted a shoulder. “She’s been really weird. Usually she’s cool, but this time she’s trying to tell me what to do. She actually went to school and met with my teachers. Like she’s a normal mom or something.”
She looked at Sierra. “I’m glad she’s home, but she’s freaking out about Nate. And I don’t know why she won’t let me hang out with Benjamin King. He’s really cool.”
“I know. But your mom just wants to make sure that you don’t get hurt.”
“Why would I get hurt?” Audrey turned in the seat, and Sierra scrambled for a reply.
“Because he’s a big star?”
“And he might not have time for me? I know that. It’s just . . . she thinks I’m a little kid and doesn’t see that I’m all grown up and can take care of myself.”
Sierra schooled her voice. “I’m sure you can, Audrey. But let your mom catch up, okay? She’s just trying to be a good mom.”
“A good mom would stop hovering and let me live my own life.”
“I had one of those hands-off moms, Audrey. Trust me, it’s not as great as you’d think.”
“But you and Blossom are okay now, right?”
Sierra turned off the highway toward the PEAK driveway. The helicopter pad sat empty, the yard drying under the morning sun.
“Only because I no longer have to depend on Blossom to take care of me.” She pulled in next to the house and caught Audrey’s arm before she got out. “Just . . . keep in mind that whatever happens, every decision she made was for you. To help you have a great life.”
Audrey frowned, then shrugged. “I know.” She got out, shut the door, headed up the porch.
Oh boy.
Sierra got out, headed into HQ.
So what if she’d spent some unpaid hours yesterday giving the kitchen an extra scrub, adding some homey touches—daisies on the table, a bulletin board with a funny meme. And she’d even stuck around for the team meeting last night, getting an update on Ben and Kacey’s overnight at Lulu’s.
Next Sunday, she planned on making a “welcome to the team” cake for Kacey at the weekly SAR meeting-slash-barbecue.
She set the container of cookies on the counter and spotted Audrey talking to Chet. He had rolled himself out of his office and was now shaking her hand.
Sierra put her hand on Chet’s shoulder, squeezed. “Have you heard from them yet today?”
Chet dropped Audrey’s hand and reached for the cookies. “They’re on their way in. The team met them on Going-to-the-Sun Road today, drove the hiker and his wife to Kalispell Regional Medical. They also found a body. Sam sent a recovery team out to meet them. Ben and Kacey hiked back up to the chopper.”
As if on cue, the hum of the Bell 429 diced the air. Audrey dropped her pack and ran to the window.
Sierra followed Chet over, then opened the door for him, and he wheeled himself outside. But she’d noticed his walker, folded and laying by the sofa. Hopefully he hadn’t been shuffling around without supervision.
She’d have to keep an eye on him.
The blue and white bird floated down from the sky, settled on the pad near the barn. In a few moments, the rotors died and Kacey emerged from the cockpit. Ben came around the front.
“Mom!” Audrey waved, and Kacey grinned as she pulled off her helmet, waving back.
Audrey came off the porch, ran over to her mom, caught her in a hug around the waist. A person would have had to be blind not to see the look of longing on Ben’s face. But then Audrey came over and high-fived him, and that garnered a grin.
Something passed between Ben and Kacey then, a look, something familiar, sweet even—
Oh no. And sure enough, Kacey came up the stairs and glanced at Sierra, guilt written in her expression as she brushed by her.
“Hey, Dad,” Ben said as he greeted his father. He clasped his hand, and they headed inside. “Have you heard from our hiker?”
“He has a mild fracture. His wife called and said to pass along her thanks.”
Sierra listened to the conversation but longed to get a moment with Kacey, to back her into a room, dissect the look that had passed between her and Ben. Instead, Kacey had grabbed Audrey fo
r a quick mother-daughter debrief.
Ben bit into a cookie. “These are fantastic,” he said to Sierra.
He walked over to the map on the wall, then traced his finger across the park to the eastern side. Tapped it at Saint Mary Lodge, then traced it down to Highway 89 all the way to the entrance at East Glacier. “Did you know there’s an Amtrak out of East Glacier?” he said to no one.
Sierra walked over to him. “Yes. The Empire Builder runs through there, from Chicago all the way to Seattle.”
He finished off his cookie, then dug into his pocket. “We stayed with Lulu Grace last night.”
“How is she?” Chet had rolled over to Ben.
“As spry as ever. Made us flapjacks with fresh eggs and bacon today. But most importantly, she told us a story about giving a lost hiker a ride to Saint Mary Lodge about three years ago. And that lost hiker left behind something.” He dug into his pocket.
A cold hand closed around her throat as Sierra stared at the gold class ring with an emerald center stone and diamond chips in the heart setting.
“That’s Esme Shaw’s.”
Ben looked at her. “Are you sure? There’s no name.”
“I remember her wearing it.” She picked up the ring. “I’m almost positive. Ian gave this to her for Christmas, her senior year.” She looked at Ben. “Lulu gave her a ride to Saint Mary?”
Ben nodded. “The description sounded like it belonged to Esme.” He looked back at the map. “I keep trying to piece it together. Why would she ask to be dropped off on the other side of the park?”
“Was she afraid?”
“Or guilty?” This from Kacey, who’d come over. “We have to ask—how did Dante’s body get in the river?”
Silence.
“I need to tell Ian,” Sierra said quietly.
She was halfway to the door when her words kicked in, turned her around. “Actually, no. I don’t need to tell him.” She held out the ring. “You should tell him, Ben. He asked you to hunt for Esme.”
Ben shook his head. “I’m going to get cleaned up and go into town, see what Sam has found out. You go to Ian’s, update him, and tell him we’ll call him first chance we get.”
Wild Montana Skies Page 20