“He was innocent.” Drew didn’t know all the details, and he couldn’t blame Abby for being concerned. Jack didn’t have a visible ounce of softness and didn’t trust a living soul. And who could blame him? He’d been framed for a crime he didn’t commit, then freed when new evidence and a retrial found him completely innocent.
“Naturally. Doesn’t every ex-con say the same thing?” Abby obviously realized what she’d said and gasped, “Oh, God, I didn’t mean you, Drew. I’m sorry.”
Drew took a deep breath. “It’s okay,” he said, but it wasn’t.
Abby’s words raised all the doubts he’d tried to hide. The explosion had been an accident—but a direct result of his wrong actions—and he had to find some way to live with that knowledge. Prison had changed him. Each day had been a lesson in survival.
But Drew had discovered that some prisons were man-made and not made of stone. They were flesh and bone, with no way out, no escape from guilt and regret.
Now, for the first time in his life, he wanted to create order out of chaos. He wanted the sawmill to be a success. He wanted a home and stability. He wanted Olivia. Her investment in him put everything at risk. He couldn’t afford to lose.
She’d put her faith in him, and that terrified him.
What if he failed?
Sensing his pain, Olivia reached for his hand. Of course, she’d heard the entire exchange between brother and sister.
She felt helpless, caught in a web of old sorrows. Drew was obviously hurting. And all she could do was offer her support.
He had to heal himself.
On the way home, Drew turned onto a dirt road. “I hope you’re not in any hurry,” he said to Olivia. When she didn’t object, he stopped on an old abandoned logging road.
Olivia looked around. “I have no idea where I am.”
“We’re on Stone’s End. I need to check out a few trees. We’ll have to walk from here.”
Side by side, they walked along the rough path, a steady rise. It was very peaceful. They walked to the top of the hill where the trees had been clear-cut and new ones planted. A brisk wind whipped up the dead leaves on the ground. The woods were alive. A mixed stand of oak, hemlock and maple covered an area of several acres.
Leaning back against a tree, Olivia caught her breath at the view, a valley with a river running through it. “This is truly beautiful.”
Distracted, Drew smiled. “And it’s all yours, Olivia.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “Now let’s get to work.”
Olivia never met a tree she didn’t like. A bemused Drew watched her stop and admire each tree, while he sized them up in dollars and cents—so much for each foot—according to scale. Most of the trees topped out at sixty to a hundred feet.
He stopped at a hemlock tree, using his eye to measure the girth and height. “This one should bring a good price.”
She placed a protective hand on the rough trunk. “This one? Couldn’t you leave this one standing?”
He tried to be diplomatic. “You see a tree. I see a house, books, paper or a piece of furniture that may become an heirloom. The trees will grow back. And Stone’s End needs a steady income that isn’t always at the mercy of Mother Nature.”
“But it’s such a tall, beautiful tree. How can you think of cutting it down?” Well insulated in down-filled clothing, her cheeks rosy from exposure, she looked lovely.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Drew tried to keep his mind on business. “Which ones do you suggest I cut down? The ugly ones? The short ones?”
“Wouldn’t that be more logical?”
“Not if you want a decent return on your investment.” Aware that Olivia was facing the reality of her decision, he smiled to soften the blow. “May I remind you that we are not clear-cutting? We’re re-planting and leaving small to midsize trees with more room to grow.”
“And that cuts down the risk of forest fires. I know all that.” Silently she looked up at the tree, then winced when he spray-painted a red mark at the base, and another several feet higher.
Drew felt like the bad guy in a B movie. “Olivia, I’m sorry. It has to be this way.”
“I know,” she said in a small voice, suddenly aware that he could be single-minded and even ruthless where his business was concerned. It was a side of Drew she’d never seen before. She wasn’t sure she liked it. She’d examine that later, but right now he obviously expected a little more enthusiasm from her.
With a forced smile, she brushed her misgivings away, at least for the moment. “So how does this work? I mean, where do you fit into the operation?”
At her cooperation, his smile looked relieved. “For now, I’ll be doing a little bit of everything. Fall is a good time for logging. The leaves are down. The ground is hard.”
“What will you do when the weather turns colder?”
“Dress warm,” he said, with a flash of his quicksilver smile, “and pray for an early spring.”
Suddenly spring seemed awfully far away to Olivia. How could she possibly plan that far ahead when each day seemed like a tightrope balancing act?
Over the next few weeks, the logging operation got underway. Once work began, Olivia saw even less of Drew. Up before daybreak, he rarely got home before midnight, long after she was sound asleep.
While Fred and Ramon managed the day-to-day operation of the farm, Olivia worked to catch up with her holiday orders. When she stopped to think about her marriage—which was often—it seemed that their relationship was in a holding pattern, giving them a much-needed breather from the intense emotions that had driven their relationship from the start. It all made perfect sense.
Unfortunately Olivia wasn’t thinking with her head. With or without Drew’s presence, her heart was constantly under siege by new emotions she’d never acknowledged before, and her defenses were crumbling.
One day, the old house shook to its very foundations as a large truck carrying a load of cut timber rumbled past the front door. Suddenly, she needed to see Drew.
She stared out the window to the distant treeline where she knew he was working that day. She’d missed seeing him that morning. She missed him now.
Giving in to the impulse, she dressed in warm clothes, layering jeans and a thick wool sweater with a down vest. She laced on a pair of workboots.
An inch of fresh snow covered the ground when Olivia set out from the house. The air was crisp and cool; the scent of pine woods tickled her nose. She hiked uphill into the woods along an old logging road. The surrounding brush had recently been cleared and the track widened for use. Signs of activity were everywhere.
The deep silence of the forest was split by the shrill discordant sounds of a chainsaw mixed with the mechanical drone of a skidder hauling trees.
Approximately half a mile from the worksite, she passed the landing where the logs were cut to length. From there, they were loaded onto a truck for delivery to the sawmill. At a distance, Jack was operating the skidder, hauling logs to the landing.
Jack waved both arms when he saw her.
Olivia smiled and waved back.
She never heard him shout, never saw him jump down from the skidder and run after her.
Chapter Thirteen
The deafening buzz of a chain saw grew closer. Olivia climbed over a rotting log, then ducked under a low branch. Suddenly she lost her direction. She spun around, but every tree looked exactly like the next one. It took her a long moment to realize the chain saw had cut out. All sound had died.
An intense hush suddenly filled the air around her.
She heard a faint sigh—hers?
A soft rustle of undergrowth broke the lengthening silence. Twigs snapped, then came a crack, a huge groan. It seemed to come out of the ground. The wind sucked past her.
Olivia turned, horrified to discover it wasn’t the wind at all, but a large oak tree on a downward spiral, its bare limbs outlined against the brittle blue sky.
Everything around her trembled as limbs tore from nearby trees
. Nothing slowed the tree’s descent. An inaudible cry escaped her. She heard shouts. They filled her ears, along with an inner roar.
“Run!”
Terror struck.
She stood, frozen.
Jack’s frantic shouts alerted Drew.
Not breaking his running stride, Jack pointed to some bushes. “Drew, to your left!”
Drew spun around. He could barely see the top of a golden head. God! Olivia had appeared out of nowhere. She stood squarely in the path of the falling tree.
His heart stopped, then beat like a drum in his chest. He dropped the chain saw, then raced toward her, pouring everything he felt into one terrified shout. “Olivia!”
The hoarse sound tore from his throat.
Through the roar in her ears, Olivia couldn’t hear Drew, but she watched his face contort with anguish. He was racing toward her.
With a muted cry, she reached her arms out to him just as he reached for her. Lifting her off the ground, he ran for safety.
With limbs outstretched, the tree followed, its length easily outpacing their puny efforts to escape its furious descent.
Suddenly Olivia was falling, and Drew was covering her with his body, sheltering her from the crushing weight. If they were lucky, they might escape the main trunk.
The ground shuddered as the tree came to a resting place. With the earth cold and hard at her back, Olivia found herself trapped beneath Drew.
She freed one hand, relieved to feel a pulse in his throat. “Drew, Drew!” she said frantically, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you all right?”
At her touch, he opened his eyes. “I… God, are you okay?”
More concerned with Drew, she released a shocked breath of relief at his return to consciousness. “I think so.”
“Good. Olivia, I…” He started to say something else, then stopped. Apparently overcome by pain, he closed his eyes.
“Drew!” When he made no response, Olivia’s voice rose with alarm. “Drew, can you hear me?”
Jack came running up. “You okay?”
“I think so.” She stared at him, feeling helpless and terribly frightened. “But Drew isn’t.”
“Did the tree hit him on the head?”
“I’m not sure. It all happened so fast! It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t—”
Before she could get any further, Jack said, snapping Olivia out of her misery, “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. First things first. Right now we just have to worry about getting you both out of this mess.”
He quickly sized up the situation, then cleared away the branches and limbs trapping Olivia and Drew beneath them.
Olivia didn’t know Jack Slade very well, but forced to rely on him, she was glad he was there. “What do you want me to do?”
At her submissive tone, he actually smiled, reassuring her with the words, “I’ll get you out in a minute. Just don’t move. I’m going to check Drew first. There could be some broken bones. Or a head injury.”
After checking and finding no evidence of a serious injury, he carefully lifted Drew. “Looks like you both got lucky. The main trunk missed you both by inches.”
Lucky?
Like one of those hapless, star-crossed lovers in an old forties’ screen gem, Olivia didn’t feel very lucky. In fact, good fortune seemed to elude her. Drew was hurt. Somehow he’d become the center of her world. Losing him was unthinkable. With his weight removed, she was able to breathe more freely.
Nevertheless, her voice shook. “Please be careful,” she said. “He’s obviously hurt.”
“What about you?”
With Jack’s help, she scrambled to her feet. Brushing off his concern, she felt shaken, but insisted, “I’m fine.”
A moment later, leaning over Drew, she unzipped his jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt. She slid her hand inside, relieved to feel a strong heartbeat against the palm of her hand.
Jack shook his head. “Looks as though he got off easy with just a few cuts and bruises.”
“Then why is he still unconscious?”
“He probably just passed out.”
Olivia frowned in amazement. “He fainted?”
“From shock,” Jack defended his friend. “He probably has a dislocated shoulder. That hurts like hell.”
With Jack’s reassurance, Olivia felt only slightly better. “Well, we still need to get him to the doctor. He needs to be checked.” Jack tried to lift him.
At the movement, Drew moaned and opened his eyes. All he saw was Olivia surrounded by sky.
With a soothing hand, Olivia bent over him and brushed his hair from his brow. “It’s okay, love, I’m here.”
Love?
Drew’s head was spinning. Had he died and gone to heaven?
Jack cracked a grin. “A few inches closer, and that would have been it. You saved Olivia’s life. You’re a hero.”
That brought Drew back to earth.
The terror had receded, but he glared at Olivia. Her face was pale. “Don’t ever do that again!” he rasped, blinking in agony. Something inside was hurting. Some internal organ—more than likely his heart. Why, he wasn’t exactly sure, but it had something to do with Olivia. “Do you hear me?”
God, she was going to be the death of him! But he’d never felt so alive. He hauled her down against him and kissed her senseless. By the time he released her, the adrenaline rush had worn off. Drew became conscious of a sharp pain tearing through his shoulder. He welcomed it; it kept him from facing his feelings. He’d come so close to losing Olivia.
The next few hours were a blur.
Cradling his arm close to his chest, Drew insisted he could walk out of the woods. Jack went ahead to get the car, then came back to pick them up.
At the house, Olivia fashioned a makeshift sling, which eased the pain. “Drew, you should have an X ray. The closest hospital is in Stillwater.”
“I’ll drive,” Jack volunteered.
Thus, with Drew in the passenger seat and Olivia curiously silent in the back seat, Jack drove the distance. He assured Drew that there was nothing to worry about—business would go on as usual—which only made Drew worry more. He’d managed to hire back some millworkers and a supervisor, but there was no set routine at the sawmill. Jack had little experience at cutting and hauling wood, and Abby still hadn’t figured out how to update the old computer files, much less add the new ones.
They were all doing their best.
Olivia had called ahead to the doctor, who was also an old family friend. Dr. Peterson was waiting at the hospital in Stillwater when they arrived. After checking Drew over, he ordered some immediate tests.
A nurse wheeled Drew away.
The doctor, an elderly man with a gruff voice and a no-nonsense manner that hid a soft heart, turned to Olivia. “Now what about you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.” Her gaze followed Drew until he was out of sight.
“That’s good to hear. And don’t go worrying your head about that young man of yours. He’s going to be just fine. Looks like he wrenched his shoulder. Probably did a job on a couple of tendons while he was at it,” Dr. Peterson said. “Drew never does anything halfway.”
“He will be okay?”
“We’ll fix him up.” He looked at her chart where the admitting nurse had jotted a few items after taking Olivia’s vital signs. “Now it says here that your pulse and temperature are normal. Blood pressure looks good.” He glanced up under bushy eyebrows. “Anything hurt?”
Accustomed to his curtness, Olivia smiled. “No.”
He penned something on her chart. “I heard you got married. Surprised I didn’t get an invitation.”
Olivia apologized, “We kept it small.”
“Well, Drew was never one to stand on ceremony.” He shook his head. “Young people are impatient these days. I suppose love can’t wait.”
“Well, there were some practical considerations.”
Dr. Peterson narrowed his eyes. “You know, I
brought that boy into this world. He was born premature, five weeks early, as a matter-of-fact.” The doctor chuckled. “He’s been in a hurry and trying to catch up ever since. Sometimes that blinds him to what’s right in front of him—until he gets hit over the head with it.” He shook his head. “Practical, my eye!”
Olivia smiled. “I can’t imagine him as a little boy.”
“Well, I can tell you one thing—he nearly drove his mother nuts, what with getting into one scrape or another. He was small for his age, and kind of puny. Always trying to keep up with the bigger kids. Then he sort of grew into himself.” The doctor chuckled.
“Still accident-prone, though. Reckon he’s still growing. Takes some people longer than others.”
With a bemused smile, Olivia absorbed that, while the doctor walked off. After a moment or two, a nurse came back and told Olivia she could go home. However, Drew had to stay.
Olivia went back to the waiting room.
Jack was thumbing absently through a magazine. He stood when he looked up and saw her there. “Well, what’s the verdict?”
“His shoulder injury is serious enough to need emergency surgery. It’s nothing major, but he can’t go home until tomorrow.” She frowned, admitting her concern. “He’s going to be furious—probably at me for causing all this trouble.”
Jack stared at her for a long moment. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to comment, he said, “He’s damned lucky to have you. If he doesn’t know it yet, then he’s an idiot.”
Jack’s endorsement came as a complete surprise to Olivia. Although gratified, she couldn’t help but wonder who was the idiot. She’d fallen in love with her own husband—and didn’t know how to tell him!
When Drew learned he needed surgery, requiring at least one overnight stay, he wasn’t pleased. Fortunately the anesthesia provided a few hours of welcome oblivion.
By the following afternoon, he’d recovered enough to know he wanted to go home.
The hospital room had “institution” written all over it, reminding him of his time spent locked away in prison. The walls were green, the bed was metal, and Drew had been issued a number. It was tagged to his wrist.
The Wedding Bargain Page 15