“North section of land?” Liam muttered. “That part of the resort isn’t even developed. Nothing is out there.”
“Not nothing,” Holly answered.
We both turned to stare at her.
“The title is to be transferred to William Mattison, heir of Renshaw Mattison.” The lawyer who previously hadn’t spoken at all put in.
“What title?” Liam asked.
“I hope you will understand,” Holly said. “He just wanted you to live your dream.”
“Mom,” Liam ground out. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Liam.” I admonished. “Do not cuss at your mother.”
He made a face.
Holly looked at the lawyer, who withdrew a white envelope from his pile of papers. “Mr. Mattison instructed me to give this to you in the event of his passing.”
Liam glanced between the lawyer and the envelope he extended before going to take it. “This is Dad’s handwriting,” Liam said, staring at his name scrawled on the front. He tore his eyes away and looked at Holly. “What is this?”
“I’ll let your dad be the one to tell you.” She gestured to the letter.
Liam turned to face me, holding the letter between our bodies. “He wrote me a letter,” he whispered.
“You should read it,” I whispered back.
He swallowed so hard I heard it. He didn’t look at anyone else in the room. Part of me wondered if he remembered they were even there. Still clutching the letter, he pulled me along to his chair and tugged me into his lap.
Once I was against him, he reached around me, ripped open the seal, and pulled out the piece of paper filled with Ren’s writing.
His chin rested on my shoulder, but even though the words were in plain sight, I didn’t read them. This wasn’t for me.
This was one final conversation between Liam and his father.
Liam
Liam,
If you’re reading this, then unfortunately, I’m not there to give this to you in person. I want you to know that of everything I’ve built in my life, my greatest accomplishment by far is you. I know you probably often wondered why you were an only child, and we often told you it was because we were so busy with the resort there had never been time.
That was partially true.
The real reason, my son, is because your mother and I never needed another child because you were more than we could ever ask for. You brought us more pride and love than five children ever could.
I know I’ve told you how proud of you I am, and I hope you know I truly meant it. You inspired me your entire life in ways you will never understand. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and who you are. You knew from the time you could barely walk that your feet belonged on a board. I know I pushed you at times, and at times you might have hated me for it, but it’s only because I wanted you to reach the dreams I saw in your eyes from the minute you first touched snow.
I never expected you to run BearPaw Resort. Yes, I hoped you would always return home and that someday I might have you here at my side. This past year has been a dream come true in that sense, even though it came at a heavy cost for you.
I never wanted my dream to be realized at the cost of yours.
I can’t be sorry that I had this time with you here, though. I love you, my son. So very much. Your strength and pride amaze me. I know you’ve committed to running this resort, something I know in my heart you will excel at, but I want you to have it all.
You don’t have to choose.
Going back to boarding is not a betrayal to me. If anything, you not going back is. I might have built this resort. I might own all these buildings… but, son. Son, you own the very mountain this place sits on. And not because you bought it. Not because you developed it.
Because this place is in your veins.
Take what’s yours. Put aside your anger, your guilt, and even your fears. Go out of snowboarding in the same fashion you entered it. With passion. With heart and with determination.
Your mother and Alex can hold down the fort at the resort. It will be there after you’ve made your triumphant return.
I’ve built something to make it easier. To hopefully prove just how much I believe in you. It’s my gift to you, my way of being there cheering you on, because it seems I won’t be able to be there in person.
I hope you aren’t angry with the liberty I’ve taken. Perhaps someday when you have a son of your own you will understand.
Whether or not you utilize the property that is now solely yours is up to you. Please understand, regardless, I am so incredibly proud to call you my son and wherever I am right now, I am watching over you and your mother with love.
Dad
I heard his voice as I was reading as if he were speaking right beside me. These final words meant more to me than any amount of money or property ever could.
For a moment suspended in time, it was as if he were still here. As if he wasn’t gone. My heart knew peace, and the gaping, painful hole I’d been living with was blissfully gone.
I glanced up from the paper when the last word was read, the pain of his death assaulting me all over again.
Warm hands brushed over my cheeks, and I focused on Bellamy, who was wiping away my tears.
“Did you read it?” I whispered, voice raspy and low.
“No, those words are for you.”
I nodded, drawing in a shuddering breath. “He built something,” I said, trying to wrap my head around it.
“What?”
I shook my head and looked at Mom. “What is it?”
“Would you like to go and see?”
I stood, taking Bells and the letter with me. “Right now.”
Mom glanced at the lawyers. “Could you call down and arrange a ride?” When she looked back at me, she said, “You’re going to need a coat.”
“I need some signatures on these documents to finalize everything.” Lawyer number one cut in.
I swung around, Bellamy still in my arms. “Later.”
“We’re here now.”
“I said later,” I bit out.
He relented. “Of course.”
“You’ll need to go to the roof,” lawyer number two said, hanging up the phone.
“The roof?” Bellamy echoed.
“Coats.” Mom reminded me.
“We’ll meet you at the elevators,” I said and left the boardroom.
I was well aware of people staring as I walked along the executive floor. It was their first glance of me since the service and the first sight of me back in the office.
No one stopped to offer condolences, which was probably good news for them. I wasn’t in the mood for that shit. This day wasn’t about them. It was about my dad, his words… and how he’d somehow managed to make me feel a little less pain.
My assistant bolted up from behind her desk when I strode toward my father’s office. “Mr. Mattison—”
“Liam.” I reminded her.
“I wasn’t expecting you today.”
My feet stuttered. “Then why are you here?”
She glanced at Bellamy, who I was still carrying, and then at me. “It’s my job to be here.”
“Take the day off. Go home. Spend time with your family.”
“Liam?”
I smiled because her confusion was kinda funny. “If someone told me to take the day off, I wouldn’t still be standing there.”
“Right,” she said, still standing there.
I chuckled. “I’ll be in tomorrow. But not too early. I gotta make sure my baby isn’t torturing my girl.”
Her eyes went wide. “Baby?”
“Liam,” Bellamy whispered.
I put her down on her feet, keeping one arm anchored around her body.
“Baby.” I agreed, rubbing her stomach.
“Oh! Congratulations.” Her shock was pretty priceless.
“Thanks. Now go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She grabbed her things and made a move
for the elevator.
At the door to the office, I hesitated. A rush of emotion befell me as I stood there, hand on the handle.
Technically, yes, this was my office. But it would never really be. Not in my heart. In my heart, it would always be Dad’s, and I would always picture him sitting behind his massive desk with the impressive view of his kingdom at his back.
You own the very mountain this place sits on. Dad’s words echoed through me, and I admit it was the first time ever I felt like maybe I wasn’t a king by default.
Shoving open the door, I swept my eyes over the place. It was filled with ghosts. The last conversation we had here. The ones we never had.
“You okay?” Bellamy asked at my side.
I glanced down at her, noting the patience and love in her eyes.
“I’m good,” I murmured, kissing her hairline.
Before stepping over the threshold, I took her hand. Inside, I went right to the closet and pulled out a heavy coat and hat. Then I reached in for more and tugged a white BearPaw beanie over Bells’s head.
“That coat is going to be huge on me,” she said, peeking up from beneath the hat.
She looked cute as hell with all her hair falling around her shoulders. The blue logo on the hat made her eyes even bluer. “You’re wearing it,” I said, no nonsense in my voice. “You and my son are not going to freeze.”
“We’re going to the north section of the resort?” she asked, curious, as I pulled the coat around her.
It definitely was huge, but it would do.
“Seems so.”
“What do you think it is?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, pulling on my own coat and hat.
“That letter meant a lot to you,” she said, stepping so close our shoes bumped together.
“Yeah.” I agreed. After making sure the coat was zipped up around her and the hat covered her ears, I reached for her hand. “You ready for a helicopter ride?”
“A helicopter!” she squeaked.
I smiled. “The helipad is on the roof, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks paled. Concern had me wrapping my arms around her. “Is it the baby?” I worried.
“No, it’s the helicopter!” she said. “The one morning I’m not plagued with morning sickness and you drag me on a tin can with a propeller!”
Relieved, I laughed. “I can assure you our helicopter is not a tin can.”
She didn’t seem convinced.
“You want to stay here?” I offered.
“No!” She gasped. “I want to see the surprise.”
“Helicopter it is,” I declared, and we made our way up to the roof where the BearPaw chopper was already waiting.
Mom was strapped into the back, and I lifted Bellamy in, making sure all her straps and buckles were firmly in place. Then I put a headset over her head and kissed her on the mouth.
She gave me a wobbly smile as I climbed in the front seat beside the pilot.
The aerial view of the mountain and resort was impressive and honestly awe inspiring. It was a whole ‘nother perspective of everything my father had built.
The sky was a cloudless blue, and the impossibly tall mountains rose into it like uncut diamonds glistening beneath the rays of the sun. Despite the pure blue of the sky, the predominant color even from up here was white. Snow blanketed the terrain impeccably, not a single blemish on the untouched landscape.
The pilot flew us away from the resort, away from the buildings, people, and ski runs. We went past the lift, and I couldn’t help but glance down at the place where the men had forced Bellamy and tried to kill her, which had left us outrunning an avalanche.
You wouldn’t know it by looking down now. It looked peaceful and pure from up here.
I glanced behind me, and our eyes locked. I knew she recognized where we were, and her memories mirrored my own.
“Approaching the north,” the pilot said into our ears through the headsets.
Another mountain peak, seemingly bigger than the last, rose into the sky, and the pilot pulled back, flying us higher. In my ear, Bellamy gasped, and I grinned, glancing back at her again. She gave me an evil look that promised retribution when we were back on the ground.
I liked it up here. There was something about being in the sky that left me feeling weightless. Maybe I just felt closer to my father up this high, or maybe it was because of his letter and the fact we were going to see something he’d left behind.
When we crested the peak and flew through a white, puffy cloud, the landscape before us changed, flattening out to acres of untouched land, all covered in glistening white.
“Just up ahead,” the pilot said and pointed.
I leaned forward, staring out the windshield as something large came into view. I glanced at him as if I thought maybe I was seeing things.
He grinned, his chuckle floating through all our ears.
I looked back, blinking.
We drew closer, and the pilot lowered the chopper a little, giving me the perfect aerial shot.
“Holy shit,” I swore.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” He agreed.
My eyes were glued below us. I could hardly believe what I was looking at. My hand splayed across the freezing-cold glass as I pressed closer.
The pilot chuckled and circled around, making a large ring around the massive structure.
It was pristine. Perfection. A fucking living dream.
Suddenly, I spun, pinning my mom with a stare. “You knew about this?” I yelled over the engine, though we all had connected headsets.
She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I knew, but this is the first I’m seeing it. He was very secretive… This was a labor of love for him.”
I glanced at Bells. She was crying.
My eyes flew back to the window, and I stared in wonder.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My father built me a superpipe.
Bellamy
I might not have known what it would take for Liam to allow himself to embrace his dream.
But it didn’t matter.
Because his father did.
Liam
I stood there staring, blinking, then staring again.
My own private superpipe.
And my God, it was a sight to behold.
I knew just by looking at it the pipe was approximately eighteen feet tall, and an experienced boarder could get up to a fifteen-foot jump on it. The walls were so perfect, the snow packed to such perfection, I would wager half my bank account that I would be able to get up to twenty-eight MPH on this thing.
It was so fucking impressive I was speechless. My limbs literally quivered with the urge to grab a board and break it in.
I could practically taste the satisfaction, the adrenaline, and even the spray of the snow as I cut through it.
I mean, I literally had a hard-on right now. My dick was fucking rock hard.
“Jesus,” I prayed, staring up at it. It was lined with massive floodlights so I could totally practice at night. There were American flags waving along its perimeter, and the silence that reverberated around this acreage would echo with the sound of a board cutting into snow.
There was even a small cabin off to the side, probably for storing gear and getting out of the elements. You know, if anyone wanted out of the snow.
I didn’t understand those types of people.
The sound of a snowmobile coming up behind me made me turn. A few moments later, one of the men who ran the slopes for the resort climbed off and grinned at me. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ beauty?”
“You in on this, Glasko?” I asked, still freaking in shock.
Jon Glasko worked with my father my entire life. He was pretty much an expert at keeping our slopes running and packed with snow.
“You’re damn right.”
I held out my hand, and we shook. “This is a damn fine sight,” I said, looking back at the pipe.
“Ren didn’t skimp on this at all. It’s top of the line.
Some serious time and money went into this thing. It’s fit for an Olympian.” He paused. “Well, it’s fit for you.”
“How?” I asked, still staring.
“Time and money, my friend. Time and money.”
I glanced around at Mom, who was standing close by, taking in the sight. “When did he have time to do all this?”
“Right after your accident. You were still in the hospital.”
“I thought he was undergoing cancer treatments.”
“He was. He was doing this, too. I’ve never seen a man more determined to get something done—and done right, I might add. He insisted this had to be ready when you were.”
“Or maybe he wanted to get it done before the cancer got him,” I murmured, glancing back to the structure.
“That, too.” Mom agreed, sober.
All those months Mom and Dad had not been around so much when I was in the hospital. All those months I spent being angry about it.
This was what they were doing. Dad was battling cancer, but he still made time for this.
For me.
For something that would live on after him.
I threw out a hand, waving my fingers in the air. Bellamy stepped out, slipping her gloved fingers against mine. “Can you believe this?” I asked her.
“Sure makes the sweater I was going to get you for Christmas look lame,” she quipped.
I laughed.
“This baby takes nine million gallons of H2O to pack it with snow,” Glasko said, proud.
I was proud, too. What a goddamn masterpiece.
“He trucked in a Zaugg machine to make sure it was done with absolute precision.”
I whistled.
“What’s a Zaugg machine?” Bellamy asked.
“It uses lasers to sculpt the pipe into the perfect shape,” I replied.
“This is how sure he was,” Mom said, coming to stand beside me and Bells. “He was so sure that you would return to boarding that he had this entire thing constructed, here at home, for you to use privately and to your heart’s content.”
“I could train here,” I murmured. “I could practice and still check in on the resort. Still be here with my family.” I glanced down at Bellamy.
Frostbite (BearPaw Resort Book 3) Page 15