It Started with a Kiss (A Sequoia Lake Novel)

by Marina Adair

  Avery opened the top drawer of her desk and snagged the bright orange folder and handed it over. “The top form is a release that the K-9 team uses for volunteers at their monthly training. I changed some of the verbiage to match our event. Also, I called the insurance company, and as long as they sign the release any volunteer will be covered under the lodge’s policy. And finally, it may have been a nightmare in the past, but you didn’t have me.”

  Ty took the file and flipped through it. When he reached the end, he said, “When did you do this?”

  “Monday after you got off the phone with Lance from Cal-SAR. You said we needed first responders to play lost hikers, so I started calling around and found out that we needed to reach out months ago, but one of the fire captains said his department uses volunteers sometimes. I figured it was worth looking into.” She sat on the end of the desk. “As for the ad, I was going to talk to you first, but I guess Frank at the Gazette got print happy.”

  “The guy is the worst journalist. He couldn’t hold a secret if it were in a paper bag.” Ty scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “Think of how much more realistic it will be rescuing people who don’t know protocol and won’t listen when you tell them to stop pinching your backside.”

  “It’s a lot of work, angel,” he said, but she was getting through to him.

  “I stared down a two-hundred-foot cliff—a little hard work doesn’t scare me.” To prove it she grabbed her NO FEAR hat off the desk and pulled it on her head.

  At that he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and that got to her. She’d never intended to add more to his plate. Quite the opposite, in fact—she’d been hoping to help with the weight he was carrying.

  “I know this isn’t what you wanted to deal with after last night. You’re probably tired and frustrated, but I assure you I can handle this. The residents seem excited, and allowing them to participate in this will only make the lodge’s connections in the community that much stronger.”

  Avery set her hand on his knee. “It will also give your dad something to do that day. He would be great at organizing the volunteers. It would give him a direction, put him in a place where he felt important, and keep him out of your hair.”

  “Whoa,” Ty said. “You make it sound like I’m going to run SAREX.”

  “Do you think your dad can really handle an event that size?” Avery asked gently.

  Ty went to argue, and Avery gave him a look. With a defeated breath he rested his head back and closed his eyes. She could see the moment the reality hit. The stress on his face returned, and the heaviness of the situation nearly swallowed him whole.

  “Shit, I’m going to have to be here.” He stood and paced the floor, his hands working the knots she was sure had sprouted in his neck. “Being here with him like this seems to be making everything worse. Me and Dale working the mountain together?” He shook his head. “The longer I stick around the more stressed out he seems to become . . .”

  The amount of responsibility and blame he carried for his father’s recent behavior was so raw and so misplaced her chest pinched. She knew this wasn’t her family and, therefore, not her place, but someone had to tell Ty what was happening. And it was obvious Irene wasn’t ready to accept the truth, let alone tell her son.

  “From what I’ve seen the past few months, stress isn’t the problem, Ty,” she said cautiously, softening her voice even more. “What has your mom told you?”

  “That he’s been stressed out. Not sleeping right.”

  “Do you think it’s stress?” she asked cautiously.

  Ty’s eyes met hers, serious and challenging, but she could tell that after last night he was still hoping it was stress, but wasn’t counting on it. “You obviously don’t, which means you’re either keeping a secret for my mom or from my mom.”

  That he believed she’d been holding out on him went unsaid, but bewildered hurt was there in his expression.

  Indecision about how much to share weighed heavily on Avery, almost as suffocating as the guilt of knowing that she had been holding back with him. It was true that Irene had trusted Avery to be discreet about Dale’s condition, but she never imagined Irene keeping information so important from her son.

  She was crossing the line, but she wanted nothing more than to help Dale. Help Ty. Help this family find their way. And for that to happen there needed to be honesty.

  “I don’t know if it’s the early stages of dementia or Alzheimer’s or something else, but whatever is going on with Dale, it isn’t stress.”

  Ty stopped dead. The only part of him moving was his chest, which was laboring from the news. She could almost hear him struggle to take in air, feel the moment he recognized that he’d known the truth all along and had chosen to look past the signs.

  “Jesus.” He was quiet for a long moment, then walked to the window to stare out at the lake. Even from a distance she could feel the emotions building and turning inside him. He looked lost and ready to run, and she almost offered him the out. Told him that if he needed to regroup, get some distance, she could handle SAREX. She could hold it together until he knew how he wanted to handle things.

  But she knew from experience that running didn’t solve anything. And time only made the pain more intense, harder to cope. And if she was right about Dale’s issues, which she was sure she was, then time was one thing they didn’t have.

  “The other day you said he had bad days—I assumed you were talking about his temper,” he said, staring blindly out the window. “How bad is it?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “He does a good job of covering it, and your mom plays into it, but in the past few months it has gotten worse. At first he was forgetting meetings, misplacing schedules, little things, which is why your mom hired me. But lately he’s been moody, agitated, forgetting important things.”

  “Like the inspection?”

  She wished it were that simple. “Last month he came out of the supply closet and told me to find Garrett and have him restock the emergency supplies,” she said, joining him at the window. “Said he’d asked him to do it a week ago and wasn’t about to wait for an emergency to happen.”

  Ty’s throat worked hard, and Avery ached to reach out and comfort him, but he had a distinct hands-off vibe going on. “What did my mom say?”

  “She asked me if I would quietly restock the supplies,” Avery admitted, her stomach knotting at the admission. “I told her I would, then encouraged her to take Dale to the doctor.”

  Ty finally looked at her, the lines on his face giving away just how hard he was struggling to maintain composure. “But she didn’t.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s too scared to find out the truth, but someone needs to. If anything, for the safety of the lodge and its guests.”

  Ty looked back out the window, his eyes heavy with pain, his shoulders tight with the weight of the world. “He can’t handle SAREX.”

  Even though it was a statement, she answered, “Not on his own.”

  Ty’s eyes slid closed with pain, and a wealth of empathy rose up inside of her. “I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can,” she assured him. There was clearly a lot of love in this family, only it was tainted by what she was coming to understand was misunderstanding and a history of deep loss. And Avery liked to believe that history was only important when it guided the way to a happy future. And she didn’t think Ty or his dad had been happy in a really long time. “You’ll have me on your team.”

  He just looked at her.

  “Let me help, Ty.”

  She held her breath, expecting him to either fire her for sending out the ad without asking permission, or tell her she was office-bound for eternity. To her surprise he did neither.

  “You can help me scout new trails tomorrow,” he said.

  Unable to resist, Avery placed a hand on his arm. It was tense and coiled—like the man. “I wasn’t just talking about SAREX.”

  He slid her a look t
hat sat somewhere between grateful and sorrowful, and it made her hand squeeze tighter. “I know, angel, but right now I need to tackle something that I understand.”

  “Are you at least going to talk to your mom?”

  He cleared the emotion from his throat. “Yeah, but can we talk about something else for a bit?”

  “You bet,” she said, letting him know that he had her full support. Finding out something that had the capacity to change everything was overwhelming, and it was natural that he needed to focus on something that was actionable. “Scouting new trails it is.”

  With an appreciative brush of his hand over hers, he said, “It’d be good to see how long it will take a local to make the hikes versus an experienced hiker.”

  “Really?” She paused. “Wait, are you saying I’m out of shape?”

  He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes, but it was better than the remorse he’d worn a moment ago. “I’m saying that I’d enjoy the help. And the company.”

  Avery warmed at the thought of spending tomorrow morning out exploring nature with a sexy mountain man. Actually, she was looking forward to seeing him in his element, where he felt strong and in control. Where his smile reached his eyes—and her heart.

  “I’ll bring the hot cocoa,” she said.

  “Make sure mine has a shot or two of caffeine in it,” he said with a wink and headed toward the door. At the entryway he stopped. “Oh, and check out the paper bag. It’s way better than a sticky bun.”

  Avery watched him go, then raced over to her desk. Too impatient to wait, she picked up the bag and opened it, and her heart rolled over.

  It was a crown. Not fashioned from bar napkins and coasters like they’d agreed. But made from dried poppies and woven bark.

  It was breathtaking—and proof that Tyson Donovan was beyond impressive.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Well aren’t you a welcome surprise,” Irene said to Ty as he hung his coat by the door.

  He wasn’t so sure about how welcome he’d be after they had a much-needed talk, but he pulled her in for a hug. “Hey, Mom.”

  “You’re in time for tea.”

  “I think I might need something stronger,” he admitted.

  Irene pulled back and studied him, like she had when he’d been a boy and she had the power to love away even the biggest of problems. “Rough day, huh? Well, how about some milk and cookies then? I have chocolate chunk peanut butter.”

  And like when he’d been a boy, Ty wanted nothing more than to sit at that kitchen counter, eat some cookies, and watch the worry disappear. But he wasn’t that kid anymore, and this wasn’t the kind of problem that was going to disappear.

  Finding Dale in the boathouse last night in nothing but a bathrobe and slippers while he searched for his tackle box had knocked some of the spite out of Ty. Watching his dad struggle to remember why he’d gone out there in the first place nearly knocked him to his knees.

  Dale Donovan was as tough as they came. Mentally, physically, and spiritually he was untouchable. There wasn’t anything that could break him. The man had buried his son without shedding a tear and disowned his other without a second thought. Garrett’s death had seemed to make him harder, more rigid and remote. Dale was a tough son of a bitch who had become an island unto himself.

  That wasn’t the man Ty had seen last night in the boathouse. That man had been lost and vulnerable. Two emotions he never thought to witness in his father. Then he’d become flustered and agitated, and Ty was the closest target.

  Not that that was new. Ty had become used to being the focus of his father’s disappointment for years. But this was different, and after his talk with Avery, Ty couldn’t ignore that anymore.

  He had hiked a few of the more challenging trails, racking up six miles of brutal terrain in under two hours, hoping to clear his head. Get a better perspective on the situation. Epic fail.

  He came back sweaty, exhausted, and no closer to a solution than he had been when he’d first returned home. If anything, the situation with Dale left him feeling even more inadequate than ever. He’d come home to help his parents, something he couldn’t do until he understood the extent of the problem. Which meant pushing his mom for answers it didn’t sound like she was ready to admit yet.

  “Make it a plateful of cookies and a tall glass of milk,” Ty said as he walked into the kitchen and sat at the counter. He looked at the stool next to him and, for the thousandth time since Garrett’s death, wondered if the emptiness would ever subside. When he’d been a teen the loss had been consuming, and the only way to survive it, he felt, was to run.

  Now, experiencing it as an adult, he felt the crushing weight of the guilt, but there was something new stirring inside of him—a deep desire to make it right. And that required a painful but truthful conversation.

  Irene slid a plate of three cookies—arranged like eyes and a nose—across the table and went to the fridge for the milk. When she returned, Ty decided the best thing was to face it head-on. “What’s going on with Dad?”

  Irene froze, her smile wavering at the corners. “Did you two have another argument?”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Mom. And you know it,” he said with gentle steel.

  Irene busied herself with pouring Ty’s milk. “It’s just stress, I told you.”

  Ty rested a hand on hers, stilling her actions. “One or two of the things could be explained away by stress, but the schedule, forgetting clients, the inspection, meeting a potential employee is his slippers, Mom. His freaking slippers. That isn’t stress—that sounds more like memory problems. Maybe even some kind of dementia.”

  Irene didn’t answer right away. She looked at the counter, her hands, anything to keep her from meeting his gaze.

  Ty stretched his neck to the side until he felt it crack. “If I’m way off base, then please tell me. But I can’t help unless I know what’s going on.”

  “I told you all that I know,” she admitted. “The eye doctor said it wasn’t night blindness, and that maybe it was stress and we should have it investigated more.”

  “Then why is he refusing to go to another doctor?”

  “Why do you think?” she snapped, and it was the first time Ty had seen his mother this close to frustrated helplessness since Garrett died. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  Ty rounded the counter and pulled his mom into his arms. “That’s okay. I know this is hard. I just need you to be honest with me about what’s really going on.”

  “That’s the problem,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest. “Your father—oh, how I love him dearly—is the most pigheaded, stubborn man I know. He won’t go to the doctor. I’ve made three separate appointments, even used getting his driving privileges back as incentive, but every time the appointment arrives he’s too busy or tired to go. And between trying to keep this business running and the guests happy, I don’t have the extra energy to push right now.”

  “Let me talk to him, see what I can do,” Ty offered.

  “No.” Irene stepped back, her head shaking in a definitive way that left no room for argument. “You’ll talk to him, an argument will ensue, and I won’t see you for another six months, or maybe a year this time. No. I won’t lose you too.”

  “You haven’t lost me, Mom,” Ty said, his stomach knotting to the point of pain. Was that how she’d viewed what had gone down? That she’d lost Ty too? “You haven’t lost me. My job just requires me to be near the ocean.”

  Irene looked at him with knowing eyes. “It’s not your job that keeps you away, which is why I want you to let me handle your dad, my way and in my time.”

  “We might be running out of time, and your way is nothing more than covering for him,” Ty pointed out. “Hiding his illness from people. Including me.” Ty was shocked at the anger and betrayal he felt when he said that. “Dad’s only going to get worse, and one day your covering will get him hurt. Or, even worse, get someone else hurt. And trust me, tha
t isn’t a weight you want to carry, Mom.”

  There was a tense silence that filled the room. Irene’s face crumpled as she took in the truth behind Ty’s words and the importance of his last admission. Ty wished he could take it back, hated seeing his mom so close to tears, but someone had to say something before it was too late.

  “You all make it sound like I need a goddamn keeper,” Dale said from the threshold.

  “That’s not what we mean,” Irene said, love in her eyes, taking a step toward Dale. “We’re just worried about you.”

  Dale put a hand out, halting his wife from coming any closer, and Ty heard Irene let out a small sob. He’d never seen his dad wave off Irene’s offer of love and comfort. Ever. He might be a cold son of a bitch when it came to his son, but never to his wife.

  Dale’s eyes went glassy as he realized what he’d done, but he stood firm. “I might not be in my prime, but I’m still the best guide on this mountain.” Then his gaze went to Ty, angry and challenging. “So unless you’re ready to come home and take that title from me, then you best keep your concerns to yourself. This lodge can’t take any more criticism right now, and I might not be perfect but I get things done. And that’s better than what you’re doing.”

  It was past five, and Avery’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big. She’d smiled all the way through the morning calls, when the phones were lit nonstop with locals wanting to volunteer, during the two-hour explanation to the Senior X-Treme Team about why there would not be a polar bear plunge this weekend, even lasting through her one-year checkup with her specialists. Which included several jabs and a few needles.

  Now she was back at the office, checking her watch and counting down the minutes until she got to clock out and go for her ride. Mavis and the ladies were meeting her out front at six-thirt to send her off on her moonlit ride. Avery was in her baddest jeans, faded with strategically placed tears to give them a dash of vintage attitude, and Mavis’s old riding jacket. It was butter-soft, candy-apple red, and so tight when zipped that it brought Avery from a respectable C to an impressive D cup. She’d even borrowed a pair of kick-ass boots from Grace. Not that they’d ever kicked any ass—Grace was a pacifist by nature—but they looked tough.