“You’re hot as hell,” Lacey added.
Forrester smiled at them cheekily. “Don’t forget that I’m hung like a horse.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “But you wait much longer, and the women, the smart ones, will start to wonder why you weren’t snapped up by anyone else.”
“They’ll think there’s something wrong with you, Forrester.”
Forrester handed the babies back to their mothers. He would have liked to spend the entire morning with them but he had things that needed to get done. He’d promised Grant and Jackson that he’d help out on the vineyard, and afterwards he had a job to plan with Grady.
“Listen,” he said, looking Faith and Lacey in the eye, “I’m not sure what I’m looking for in this world, but when I find her, I’ll know it.”
The women each kissed him on the cheek.
“He’s a romantic,” Lacey said.
“He’s a fool,” Faith added.
Forrester took another sip of his coffee and picked up the mail, checking to see if there was anything for him.
“I almost forgot,” Lacey said, “there’s a letter there for you.”
Forrester nodded as he found it. It wasn’t the usual junk mail from his cell phone provider or bank. The name and address were handwritten. He lifted it up to the light to better see the postmark.
“What is it?” Faith said.
“It’s from Montana.”
They both went silent. They didn’t need to know any more than that to know it would be something serious. In the existence that had formed itself into Forrester’s life, and in all the years that both Lacey and Faith had known him, they knew that nothing good ever came to him from the great state of Montana. For Forrester, Montana only ever meant bad news, and bad memories.
“What is it?” Faith said.
“Let me open it,” Lacey added, handing her daughter to Faith.
Forrester let out a small grunt, barely audible, but Lacey and Faith both heard it as if it was a scream from the bottom of his lungs.
“Sit down,” Lacey told him as she took the letter and ripped open the envelope with a knife.
Faith poured him some more coffee.
“Do you want me to read it?” Lacey said.
Forrester nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and even though he was only a few years younger than her, he reminded her then of the boy who’d been brought to the mansion by her father from a Montana juvenile detention center many years earlier.
She scanned the words of the letter as if searching it for hidden traps. She knew there was nothing that could hurt Forrester as deeply as the things that came to him periodically from Montana.
“It’s from your father’s lawyer,” Lacey said.
Forrester shut his eyes and waited for her to continue.
“He’s dead.”
Forrester didn’t say anything to that. The man was old and he’d no doubt prepared himself for that piece of news some time ago.
“The lawyer wants you to return to Stone Peak to settle the estate. It says the funeral is to be held tomorrow at the Good News Cemetery.”
“Good News?” was all Forrester said, and he got up from his seat and left the kitchen.
The two women looked at each other, and then hurried after him.
“Forrester,” Lacey said, and Faith had no difficulty detecting the stress in her voice. Lacey had known Forrester since he was a teenager, in fact, they both had, and they looked at him as if he was their younger brother. They would both do anything in their power to protect him from that sort of pain.
They climbed the sweeping staircase to the upper level of the mansion and found Forrester in his room, hurriedly packing a leather overnight bag with a few things, underwear, a clean shirt, a razor, soap and deodorant.
“You don’t have to go back,” Lacey said.
“You owe that man and that town nothing,” Faith added. “That’s what they gave you, and that’s what you’d be entitled to give them back in return.”
“I know,” Forrester said, gratitude and love in his eyes as he looked at them, “but it’s like you both said earlier. It’s past time I became a man. It’s time I stepped up to the plate. If I wait any longer, I won’t be a hot-headed bad boy with a troubled childhood, I’ll be a man who failed to face his past.”
“It was a little bit more than a troubled childhood,” Lacey said.
“That don’t make any difference,” Forrester said. “A man’s got to face his past. He’s got to face his demons. If he doesn’t, he’s no man at all.”
Chapter 3
Elle
ELLE WAS LOW ON GAS, low on food, and freezing her butt off when she saw the turn off that led into the mountains and the remote town of Stone Peak, Montana. She’d never heard of the place, she’d been driving all day, and hadn’t even ever been to Montana before, but something about the name of the town attracted her. It was twenty-five miles from the highway, and the road looked like it wound precariously through dense forest, high up into the icy peaks of the mountains. The route wasn’t her best bet. It was covered in snow and she lacked winter tires. The way would get progressively more frigid and treacherous as she ascended into the mountains, and there was something seriously wrong with the heater on her battered old car. Maybe she’d damaged it when she rammed the Camaro. If she had, it was worth it.
She looked at her gas gauge. Less than a quarter tank left. She’d make it. She had to.
Another town, another life, she thought to herself as she rounded the dangerous bends leading ever higher into the Rockies. She was only twenty-three and she’d already lost count of all the towns she’d lived in. The last stop, the three year stint she’d done with Gris, had been the longest of her life. She wondered apprehensively what this next town would have in store for her. Would it be the place that offered her a lasting refuge? Would it be the place she could finally settle down in for good? Would it be a home to her?
She shook her head. Now was not the time for sentimentality. She had less than a hundred dollars in her wallet, a few bank cards that had probably already been cancelled, and not a person in the world she could turn to. She was alone.
Moving is what keeps me safe, she told herself. If I know no one, no one can hurt me. If I have nothing, I can lose nothing.
That was the kind of thinking that had brought her this far. It was what had protected her through poverty, loneliness, and abuse. She let no one in, not even the people who’d thought they owned her.
She drove on into the mountains, refusing to turn back even when her wheels skidded. She’d die getting up that mountain if that’s what it took. She wrapped herself in the old blanket she always kept on the back seat. The clothes she’d worn when she left Gris’s place were no match for the mountain cold. The gas light was on, the sky darkened, and to make matters worse, it began to snow. The wind whipped up the snow into ferocious little flurries and she realized a blizzard was coming in.
She knew she should have been keeping her cool but as the panic, and impending sense of doom, mounted inside her, she put her foot down harder on the gas and sped up.
Fuck it, she told herself. No one ever got where they needed to be by being light on the gas pedal.
She almost cried in relief when she saw the yellow glow of the town in the distance, high above her, nestled into the rocky peaks.
The first building she passed was the gas station. She knew she was running on fumes, but to fill up would cost her half of the hundred dollars she had in her wallet. She needed that money for more important things, like food and shelter. Elle wasn’t the kind of girl to balk at sleeping in the back of her car, but in a blizzard high up in the Rocky Mountains in winter, that wasn’t really an option. The next building she passed was a motel. She breathed a sigh of relief at the red Vacancy sign that was lit up over the parking lot. The price posted for a night’s stay was forty-nine dollars. She made a note of the price in her head and drove on. She stopped at a set of lights and looked to her left and right. She was a
t the center of the town. There didn’t seem to be much to it. The street she was crossing was Main, and it was lined with stores that seemed to cater mostly to tourists, skiers and hunters. At the very end of Main Street was a luxurious looking lodge, built of timber, with gaslit, flame lamps at the entry. It was like a magnificent, medieval castle overlooking the town. Even from the distance, she could see the flames of a massive open fireplace through the windows. She smiled to herself as she wondered what it would cost to stay in a place like that for the night. Her hundred dollars probably wouldn’t cut it.
Across the intersection was a brightly lit diner that seemed, miraculously, to be packed with people. It’s light and warmth called to her.
Elle parked outside the diner, pulled her light jacket tightly around her, and ran through the driving snow for the door.
“Welcome to Gracie’s,” the waitress said as Elle pulled the door closed behind her. “Come in and get warm. It’s a whore out there.”
Elle laughed. The sound of her own voice surprised her. She hadn’t laughed out loud in quite a while.
“It is,” she said.
“Just grab a seat anywhere,” the waitress said. “I’ll be right with you.”
Elle sat at the counter and observed her surroundings. The waitress was run off her feet, bringing coffee and beer and classic diner cuisine to the people of Stone Peak. She watched the men mostly, who seemed rugged and capable, dressed in practical snow boots and warm plaid shirts. She counted. Of the fourteen men sitting in the diner, fully thirteen of them wore full beards. Many of them sat alone, men in their forties or fifties who no doubt lived off the land. The few women she could see were definitely wives. None were as young as Elle herself, apart from the waitress, who introduced herself as Kelly. She was about Elle’s age and wore a pretty waitress uniform. Her hair was sensibly tied back from her eyes.
“So, what brings you to Stone Peak?” Kelly said when she brought Elle her burger, fries and coffee.
“I guess you’d say I’m running away from something,” Elle said matter-of-factly.
“Let me guess,” Kelly said with a wink. “A guy? An ex-boyfriend, or husband?”
“An ex-asshole,” Elle said.
“I hear you, sister,” Kelly said.
Kelly left Elle alone to eat, but Elle kept an eye on her. Without really knowing why, Elle was very excited to see a girl her own age in the town. She secretly prayed that it would be possible for her to set up a life for herself there, not least because she didn’t have gas money to get back out of the mountains.
“So,” Kelly said as she cleared away Elle’s dinner, “are you just passing through?”
Elle looked up at her and smiled. She knew an offer of friendship when she saw it. “Actually, I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Kelly nodded. “Is that your car parked outside?”
Elle looked out the window at it. “The broken down wreck with an empty tank? Yes.”
“And you don’t have a place to stay?”
Elle laughed. “I’m staying at the five-star ski resort on the top of the hill,” she said.
“Right,” Kelly said. “That place is like a thousand bucks a night.”
“What is it?”
“Well, you might think you’re at the ends of the earth up here, but people actually come from all over the world for the pristine ski slopes. They usually come in and out by helicopter, fly up to the top of the slopes by helicopter, and rarely venture out of the grounds of the hotel. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever served a single guest of the hotel here at the diner.”
“They’re too exclusive for the likes of simple townsfolk?”
“Exactly. Too exclusive, too rich. They’re from New York and LA. They’re here for the ski slopes, not the local cuisine. Some of my friends work there. They say we’re not missing much. Rich foreigners and businessmen who don’t know how to have much fun, other than a glass of port by the fire in the evening.”
“It does look pretty cozy,” Elle said.
Kelly shrugged. “You want cozy? I’ve got cozy.”
“Really?”
“If you’re willing to work for it.”
“What?”
“You ever waitress before?”
“Girl, I was born with a tray in my hands. I started as a dishwasher when I was still a kid. I’ve worked in more diners than you can imagine.”
“Well, as you can see, we’re kind of shorthanded around here.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“I’m not kidding, Elle. If you want a job and a place to stay, we could use you here.”
“You are kidding me,” Elle said, rising to her feet.
She could already feel the tears coming to her eyes but didn’t care. She was so relieved she wanted to kiss Kelly. Instead, she threw her arms around her and squeezed her tighter than was probably appropriate for a job offer of waitress at a small town diner.
“It’s not the Hilton,” Kelly went on, “but the local mechanic, Denny, rents some rooms nearby. Nothing fancy, like I said, but we could get you a room there.”
Elle just nodded. She was doing her best not to burst into tears. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, Kelly, yes. I’ll take it.”
Chapter 4
Elle
ELLE SLEPT BETTER THAT NIGHT than she had in a very long time. She felt safe not having to worry about Gris sharing her bed. Gris had always had a temper, but it had gotten a lot worse during the final year of the relationship, and the deterioration of her life had crept up on Elle a little at a time. If she’d realized all at once what kind of a guy Gris was, she’d never have allowed herself to get mixed up with him. But because it had happened little by little, over time, she’d allowed herself to build up excuses, one at a time, to explain his abusive ways.
She felt ashamed now for even allowing it to happen, and she realized the enormous emotional stress it had placed on her.
Just being in the little attic loft above some dingy bar owned by the local mechanic felt like a palace to her. Kelly had helped her light a fire in the ashy hearth in the corner. Then she’d showed Elle how to work the shower in the bathroom. There was no kitchen, just the bedroom with it’s own rustic bathroom, but there was a charred kettle that could be swung over the fire.
The bed was enormously comfortable. There might have been a blizzard outside, but there were eight warm blankets piled on the bed, and with the heat of the fire, the attic was warm in no time. Elle slept like a baby, and when she woke in the morning, she went straight to the window to survey the town in sunlight.
It was breathtaking. The view over the mountain pass she’d driven up was astounding. She hadn’t been able to appreciate the beauty of it all the night before, but now she could see for miles and miles over the tops of the pines. The grey rock of the mountains towered up over the valley like fortress walls. The air was bright and clear, so cold that sparkles of ice floated in it and reflected the sun.
“Thank you, God,” she whispered.
She wasn’t a particularly religious person, but she knew there was someone up there, and at times like this, she felt He was looking out for her.
She threw a few logs of wood on the embers from the night before and blew on them. In a few minutes, the flames were licking the kettle, heating up the ice cold water from the bathroom tap. There was a brown paper bag of freshly ground coffee and she took a long, deep breath of its smell before heaping it into the coffee pot. There was something about the rustic simplicity of the attic that she found immensely pleasing. There was no phone, no internet, no television. She thought for a minute and then realized she didn’t even know if there was electricity. There must be, she thought. There had been light the night before. She looked around the room and saw a light switch on the wall. It was old fashioned, but there was electricity.
What she wasn’t so sure of, was whether or not there was hot water. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the water in the shower to run hot. She ended up washing as best she cou
ld in the frigid mountain water and then drying herself next to the fire while sipping the hot coffee in an attempt to warm herself up.
She wrapped herself in her blanket as she drank the coffee. Through the window, the sun shone, giving some extra warmth. The clouds over the mountain tops in the distance looked so beautiful she could hardly believe she was really looking at them.
She opened her diary. It was a little leather bound volume that she brought everywhere with her. It had been in her car when she ran out of Gris’s place. She opened it up to the last thing she’d written. It was a quote by a French author named Gide. She read it.
*
It is better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not.
*
She thought about the words for a moment, wondering about all the things they could mean. Wondering if she even agreed with them. Then she shut the diary closed.
She’d arranged to meet Kelly at the diner and she decided there wasn’t much point in dawdling any longer than necessary. If she was going to start a new job, she might as well get into it.
The door to the attic was latched from the inside and she couldn’t lock it behind her, but there was nothing much to steal anyway, she thought. Just the kettle and blankets. She didn’t even have any clothes. She climbed down the rickety stairway only to get the fright of her life when she reached the bottom.
She screamed.
An enormous man in dirty overalls stood in front of her, unshaved stubble and bushy eyebrows covering most of his face. He looked like he’d just been sleeping off a hangover in the bar beneath the attic.
“Hold your horses, hold your horses,” he said, raising his hands up as if he was actually calming a horse.
“Oh,” Elle said, “sorry, you just startled me.”
“Sorry about that.”
“And I suppose I should be the one who’s apologizing,” Elle said. “You must be Mister eh?”
“Dennis, that’s right. Pleased to meet you, Elle, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Kelly told me I’d find you here.”
“I hope that’s all right.”
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