Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two

by Darcy Burke

  Thankfully Derek and Chloe arrived then. Maggie noticed that Sara took care of the introductions, while Kyle barely stopped rototilling long enough to wave a greeting. So much for observing interplay. It seemed they were going for all-out mutual avoidance.

  “Derek, Magnolia’s had the best suggestion for all of this debris. She wants to start a compost area that we can use for future gardening projects. I think it’s a great idea—very green of us, too.”

  “I love it,” Chloe said, echoing Sara’s earlier reaction. Pretty, with blonde hair that was maybe a shade or two darker than Sara’s, she drew on a pair of work gloves. “Where are you going to put the compost?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m thinking over behind the restaurant.” Sara glanced at Derek. “There’s a clearing we could use for now, until we figure out a plan.”

  He nodded. “That could work. Let’s talk to Tori about the overall design to make sure we aren’t screwing anything up. What sort of future gardening projects?”

  Sara explained the vegetable and walking garden ideas, both of which seemed to impress Derek and Chloe. Sara finished up by repeating that Maggie ought to be the groundskeeper.

  “I never even thought of hiring one,” Derek said. “But it’s not a bad idea. I really like the idea of a romantic walking garden—goes great with the venue.” Chloe slid him a little smile—the sort Maggie might give Kyle.

  “And having a vegetable garden will be great for Kyle’s restaurant,” Sara said.

  Derek lowered his eyes, and he didn’t respond. The counselor in Maggie longed to drag both men together and make them work things out, but she would never overstep—nor would she reveal who she really was.

  At least not today. If she was truly going to do something long-term at The Alex—and who was she kidding, she so wasn’t—she’d have to come clean. Would that be so bad? These people were nice. She already liked Sara more than she should, and Chloe seemed really nice, too.

  What a disaster.

  By late morning they were ready to transport the first load of debris to the other side of the property. Kyle climbed into the driver’s seat while Maggie joined him in the cab. She was looking forward to a few minutes alone with him until Sara climbed into the backseat.

  “I wanted to come along and check out the area. I’m totally jonesing for these gardens. I want to see where we can put them.”

  During an earlier break, they’d explained the idea to Kyle, who—as Sara had predicted—was especially excited about the vegetable garden. He’d rattled off a bunch of must-have veggies for next summer, and Maggie was beginning to feel a pang of want for a job she had no hope of having.

  Maggie turned around in the seat and smiled at Sara, unable to be upset at her joining them—her enthusiasm was too contagious to ignore.

  Kyle started the truck and drove along the track.

  “So, Magnolia,” Sara said, jarring Maggie with the use of her full name, “you should come to the wedding this weekend.”

  Maggie slipped a look at Kyle, but his gaze was focused straight ahead. “That’s awfully nice of you to say, but I barely know any of you.”

  “Now, but after you whip this place into shape, we’ll be really close. That’s how we Archers work—we suck you into our collective.” She laughed, and Maggie joined her as she shot Kyle another glance. No reaction, not even a quirk of his lip. Sara leaned forward in the seat and looked at her brother. “Magnolia can be your date.”

  That drew a reaction. He clenched the wheel tight, his knuckles whitening. “I don’t think I’m going.”

  “What?” Sara touched his shoulder. “You have to go. Not going isn’t an option.”

  “I doubt Derek would agree with you.”

  Maggie practically bit her tongue to keep from saying something.

  Sara made a sound of disgust. “You two are ridiculous. I can’t believe you aren’t going to resolve things before Saturday. You’re going to regret it. This is Derek’s wedding day, for crying out loud. He’s been a part of your life—all of our lives—for far too long.”

  Maggie wanted to applaud but didn’t.

  Sara turned to Maggie. “I know you both say you aren’t his girlfriend, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

  “I can try,” Maggie murmured. “I’m not exactly clear on why there’s a rift.” She knew she was playing with fire but couldn’t help herself. It seemed Sara had been right—there was no avoiding being sucked in to the Archer collective.

  At last, Kyle glanced in her direction, but the look he sent would’ve curdled milk. “It’s a long story.” He gestured out the windshield. “This good?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Sara answered.

  Kyle pulled the truck around and positioned the trailer to dump the mass of debris. The return trip was made in awkward silence.

  Back at the cottage, Sara jumped out of the truck. Before she left, however, she threw her brother a nice, long glare. Maggie stifled a smile as she thought of the countless times she’d looked at her own brother the same way. It was really hard not to like these people. Not that she didn’t want to like them, it would just be easier if she didn’t. That way when they completely shunned her, she wouldn’t feel heartbroken.

  Heartbroken? She snuck a look at Kyle and wondered if he could break her heart. She shoved the thought away without fully contemplating the answer.

  “Would you mind not ganging up on me with my sister?” He sounded a little pissed, and it reminded her of when they’d first met, when he’d treated her like anathema.

  “I didn’t mean to. But she has a point. One of the biggest days of Derek’s life is next week, and you’d miss it? Forget whatever’s keeping you apart, and remember everything before that.”

  He leaned his head back against the seat. “I do. It’s just really complicated.”

  She turned and shook her head at him. “It doesn’t have to be. Ask yourself why you’re still holding this grudge. Are you really angry? Are you hurt? Or are you being stubborn?”

  When his gaze found hers, his eyes were blazing. “Yeah, I’m angry. And I’m hurt. And you better believe I’m fucking stubborn. I usually appreciate the therapy, but not this time. Keep it to yourself.”

  He opened the door and got out, slamming it behind him.

  She tried to pretend his words didn’t sting, but they did. She hadn’t been trying to counsel him, she’d been trying to support him. But she knew better than most that you couldn’t help those who didn’t want to be helped. Or who didn’t think they needed any.

  Like her.

  Though they hadn’t been talking about her, she thought of all the times her mother had offered advice or outright told her she was making a mistake. She’d pretty much ignored every single one of her attempts. And taken umbrage. And added the resentment into the pot of disgruntlement she carried about everything to do with the way her parents had raised her.

  She understood why Kyle couldn’t make up with Derek, even while she understood that he should. It was the same reason she couldn’t make things right with her mother.

  And maybe she should.

  Maggie recoiled and she jumped out of the truck, slamming the door with the force of her distaste.

  Once more, the therapist could dole it out but couldn’t remotely take it.

  KYLE MANAGED TO make it through lunch and into the early afternoon without exchanging more than work-related words with anyone, Maggie included. That certainly lent credence to their assertion that they weren’t romantically involved. Good. He’d been worried after spending the night with her that their relationship would be obvious, that his feelings would be clear.

  Who the hell was he kidding? They were barely clear to him; how could they be to anyone else?

  He went back to taking out the patch of blackberries near the start of the lane. They wanted the entire stretch to look good, as guests would be parking in the lot and either walking to the cottage or taking a golf cart. He liked working in this location becau
se it was far away from everyone else.

  He could still see them, though. Particularly Maggie and Sara, who were clearing some shrubs just down the track. He watched Maggie work, her arms and back flexing with her movements, showing off her muscle tone. He felt bad about what he’d said earlier, but she’d hit the nail on the head. He was stubborn. Like a giant ass. And stubborn asses didn’t readily admit their mistakes.

  He turned and went back to his task, heedless of the scratches marking his forearms. The tractor could do this, but there was something cathartic about ripping out the thorny shrubs. They might take their swipe at him, but he’d emerge the victor, by God.

  It felt good, but not good enough. No, what he really wanted to do was take a piece out of Natalie. He’d lain awake most of last night, Maggie curled against him. Despite her soothing presence, he’d seethed over Natalie’s betrayal and longed to take her down. He’d thought about just going over to her house—he knew exactly where she lived. But he’d had to be here today.

  He stopped. They’d made a lot of progress. Why couldn’t he go now? He and Maggie had driven separately—arriving together wouldn’t exactly have supported their “just friends” cover.

  He turned and strode toward Maggie. She paused in her work and faced him. “What’s up?”

  “I need to go.” He tugged his work gloves off. “Do you think you’ll finish today, or should I plan on coming back tomorrow morning?”

  Her little brow pleats emerged. “We’ll probably have a little bit of work tomorrow. Then I need to draft the design,” and do a bunch of research to see how to even do that, “so Dylan can get what we need for the sprinkler system. But wait, why are you leaving?”

  He cocked his head and tried to send her a nonverbal message—Natalie.

  Maggie’s worry lines only deepened, and he couldn’t tell if she understood. “I guess if you have to.”

  Sara had been out of earshot but now came over. “What’s going on?”

  “Kyle has to go,” Maggie said softly.

  Derek took that completely craptastic moment to approach them. He adjusted his baseball hat as he neared. “Taking a break? I was just going to get some drinks from the fridge in the trailer.”

  “Actually, Kyle’s leaving,” Sara said.

  Derek’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “What the hell? We have at least a few hours’ more work here.”

  “You’ve got it well under control, and there’s something I need to do.”

  Derek set his hands on his hips. “What? Do tell us what’s more important than this.”

  No way was he telling them about Natalie. Not yet. Not until he’d determined how it was going to pan out. “Nothing.”

  “Then that means you’re staying?”

  “No. I have to go. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Derek shook his head. “Typical. Bail on everyone without explanation.”

  Kyle’s patience was hanging by a razor-thin thread. “I’m pretty sure you knew the reason last time.”

  “Yeah, I did. And I didn’t tell anyone.”

  Kyle barked a short, hostile laugh. “Only the one person I didn’t want you to. Tell me, Derek, how’s the view from your moral high ground?”

  Sara sucked in a breath. “Kyle.”

  “Just go,” Derek said quietly, his gaze shooting to the ground. He dropped his hands from his hips as he turned and walked away.

  “Kyle, say something,” Sara urged.

  “There’s nothing to say. Sorry, Sara-cat, I have to go.” He would’ve turned, but she came toward him, her eyes sparking with anger.

  “Just because I’m not pissed at you anymore for leaving four years ago doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten. You still owe me—all of us—an explanation. Except for Derek apparently. And someone else. Why do they get to know the truth, but I don’t?”

  Nothing else she said could’ve cut him as deeply. He’d never told any of them about his addiction. And even though Dad and Derek knew about it, they didn’t really know about it. He’d kept it completely hidden. Is that what one did with shame?

  He couldn’t deal with this right now, not with the Natalie crap hanging over his head. “Sara, can we talk about this later?” He hoped she wouldn’t ask when, because he had no idea.

  She shook her head. “Listen to Derek and just go.” She waved him off and turned back to continue her work.

  During the entire encounter, he’d cast surreptitious glances at Maggie. She’d watched everything with unveiled interest, and he could practically hear her mind thinking of how she’d counsel him. But now she looked at him with sadness and disappointment. Maybe even pity.

  Well, fuck that right to hell.

  He spun on his heel and stalked away as fast as he could without running. God, how he wanted to run.

  He jumped into Hayden’s SUV and drove toward Natalie’s. It was less than ten minutes away, but that was more than enough time for his anger and frustration to boil over into utter fury. When he pulled into her driveway, he was practically shaking with emotion.

  Taking deep breaths, he worked to slow his pulse. He needed to get control of himself before he talked to her. He was on a mission. He could do this. For Alex. For Dad. For all of them.

  A few minutes later, he knocked on the door of her little rental house. She answered almost right away, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Kyle! What are you doing here?”

  He had to work to keep from screaming at her. Every part of him wanted answers and retribution. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” She opened the door wide and gestured for him to come inside. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”

  He moved into her small living room, taking in the sixty-inch television and the high-end leather couch. It struck him that he’d never wondered how she afforded a new BMW right out of college—he’d assumed she had a trust fund since she’d gone to Williver, where trust funds were run-of-the-mill. Trying to keep a rein on his anger, he turned to spear her with a dark stare. “No, this isn’t really a social visit.”

  “Oh.” She nodded once. “I didn’t really think so. You were pretty clear about not being interested the other night.”

  Yes, he had been, and to her credit she’d been really professional about it at work since then. Wait, he was giving her credit for something? Hell no. He chose his next words for maximum effect. “I wouldn’t be interested in you if you were the last woman on the planet.”

  Now her eyes narrowed. “Hey, if you came here to be a jerk—”

  “I came here to find out why you sold my brother drugs.”

  The color drained from her face. “I . . . I—”

  “I have the e-mails. You aren’t a very smart drug dealer, are you?”

  “I’m not a drug dealer!” Her claim was anguished, raw, and so very, very false.

  “I have evidence to the contrary.” He found a calm he didn’t think he could possess in this moment. “This is what you’re going to do. You’re going to e-mail my father a letter of resignation. I don’t care what reason you give, but do not mention the drugs. He’ll find out soon enough, but not from you.” God, the timing was awful, with Derek’s wedding. This should be a happy time, damn it, and no one deserved it more than his family. Thanks to this bitch standing in front of him.

  “I don’t want to quit.” Her eyes filled with tears, one spilling over and tracking down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Kyle. I didn’t know what he was going to do. I just thought . . . I don’t know. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Selling narcotics to a man with lung disease isn’t a big deal? Did you ever wonder why he had to come to you in the first place? He couldn’t get those drugs from a doctor.”

  She twisted her hands together. “Well, I knew that. But I just figured it was because he didn’t need them. Doctors don’t prescribe that kind of stuff unless you need it, right?”

  “Exactly,” he said softly. “Which begs the question—why were you more qualified than a doctor?”

&
nbsp; Her tears fell in earnest now. “Please, Kyle. I feel terrible about what happened. Worse than terrible. If you could only imagine the guilt I’ve felt. But I can’t do anything about it now. If I could go back, I would. In a heartbeat. In fact, I stopped selling altogether after . . . that.”

  He didn’t believe her. “It doesn’t matter. The evidence I have will be enough.” He hoped so. It had to be. “Tell me how a girl like you winds up selling prescription drugs.”

  She crossed her arms and hugged herself. She looked pale and fragile, and he couldn’t have cared less. “In college, I used to sell ADHD drugs. I needed the money to pay for my room and board. Not all of us have trust funds.”

  And some of us shouldn’t have trust funds.

  “Then you get a job at Starbucks,” he said.

  Her answering laugh was dark and hollow. “That doesn’t begin to compare with what I pulled in for a handful of Ritalin.”

  “You’re a thoughtless bitch.”

  She swiped at her wet cheeks. “I’ll resign, but that’ll be the end of it, right?”

  “In your dreams. I’m turning the evidence over to the police. I wouldn’t leave town if I were you.”

  Her features hardened. “How do you think your family will feel once they find out you’re dating Alex’s therapist?”

  He didn’t think his animosity could grow any hotter, but it did. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I overheard the two of you talking at the Arch and Vine the other night.”

  He advanced on her, his patience nearly gone for the second time that afternoon. “Forget what you heard. It’s none of your business. Nothing to do with me or my family is any of your business ever again.”

  “You don’t want me to tell them,” she taunted.

  “No, I don’t. But I don’t want you to get away with what you’ve done either. My brother was mentally ill—depressed. You basically handed him a loaded gun.”

  The tears returned. “I didn’t know that he was depressed, and neither did any of you. If you’re going to blame me, why not blame his therapist? Why are you dating her of all people?”

  He leaned close, sneering in her face. “Do you really think what you did is comparable to what Maggie tried to do? She gave him help, support, a caring shoulder. What did you do? You flirted with him, encouraged his interest in you—all to sell him drugs that killed him. I have no idea if they can charge you with murder, but you better be sure I’m going to ask.”