by Kim Law
Nick went quiet for several seconds, and when he spoke again, his tone was casual. “I’m sure we all handle loss differently. And because of that, I won’t venture to guess how well you’re really holding up—even though you say you’re fine.”
She shot him a quick look.
“But I will say that I’ll be around here for a while if you ever want to talk.” He gave her a closed-mouth smile. “I have broad shoulders.”
Why would he think she might want to talk? And why would she talk to him?
His offer set her on edge. She didn’t need to talk to anyone. Thomas was dead. She’d moved on. She was over it. She didn’t know why no one wanted to believe that.
Without responding, she refocused all her attention on her duties as pilot. Grateful silence fell over them, and before too long, she bypassed the Wilde Cherry Farm and circled out over Flathead Lake. Nick didn’t question the delay, he simply sat up straighter and leaned forward so he could have a less obstructed view. The lake was huge below them, resting with quiet beauty in the middle of the valley. It always brought a calm peace to her soul. She’d spent countless hours flying solo above the clear waters over the last few months. And she’d probably spend countless more in the months to come.
The whip of the blades continued overhead, the sound the only noise in the cockpit, as they spent twenty more minutes taking in the islands dotting the lake and the stillness of the water. There was a single sailboat in their line of sight. With it being a Sunday in late May and the forecast calling for seventy degrees for that day, there would be additional locals making their way onto the water soon. In a couple of months it would be busier, but this time of year, being out on the water was like having the lake all to yourself.
Harper circled back toward Nick’s family property, finally putting the helicopter down in one of the few places that wasn’t covered with cherry trees. She didn’t kill the engine.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said. He removed his headset after her murmured acknowledgment, and turned to go, but she put a hand to his arm before he could get out.
“That bull,” she said, when he looked back. “The one I rode.” She raised her voice to be heard over the whip of the blades, and at the same time asked herself why she’d delayed him. And why she was telling him anything about herself. When he leaned in closer, she turned her mouth to his ear. “I stayed on him for the full eight seconds.”
He stared at her, seemingly impressed—if a little unbelieving. But whether he wanted to believe her or not, she’d done it. Eight seconds. She was proud of that.
Even if that had sealed the coffin on her relationship with her in-laws.
Without another word, Nick reached over and plucked her cell phone from the pocket of her desert-fatigue overshirt, and motioned for her to unlock it. He entered a number and handed it back. “Call me,” he mouthed.
Then he jumped from the helicopter and hurried from under the blades.
Chapter Three
What the . . .”
Nick flipped back and forth between computer files once again, looking at the totals for the two columns, and trying to figure out why they didn’t match. And by not match, he meant by a lot. Which made no sense.
With a grunt of frustration, he pushed away from the oversize desk and spun the office chair so he faced the windows overlooking the front porch. And he scowled. The discrepancies bothered him. He knew he’d never had proper training in accounting, but when it came down to it, it was just numbers. And he had taken accounting before he’d dropped out of college.
Granted, the class had been basic, but still.
He spun back to the desk and stared at the computer in frustration, then reached for his phone. But he changed his mind and pulled his hand back. Just because his sister, Dani, had done the books for the orchard up until she’d moved out of the house last year, that didn’t mean she needed Nick calling and bugging her about it now. Plus, she was busy with her own work.
Not that the finances were Nick’s job either—his dad had been handling things since coming out of retirement after last year’s harvest. But Nick had thought he’d pitch in and help out while at home. But what he was seeing simply didn’t add up.
Had Dani left things in this big a mess or had his dad done this?
The worry had Nick questioning his father’s ability. Or maybe his senility. Of course, his dad had been out of the business for several years . . . but he hadn’t been that old when he’d turned the farm over to Dani and their oldest brother. Keeping the books straight should be a nonissue for him.
With a shake of his head, Nick shut down the program and stood. He had better things to do than to try to figure out this mess. Like . . .
He walked out into the hall and looked first one way and then the other, and finished his own thought. Like . . . nothing. He had nothing to do. The house was eerily silent, and the rooms seemed to echo mockingly around him. It was only day two of being there, and he was ready to climb the exposed-log walls. He’d spent all of yesterday weeding the orchard and this morning double-checking the irrigation system and taking a look at the old coolant system. The coolant system was on the blink, and though a new one was scheduled to arrive before this year’s harvest, he’d thought maybe he could fix it. He couldn’t. So instead he’d walked the full fifteen acres to check that no animals had done damage to any of the trees . . . and then he’d swept out the barn.
Yes, being there alone bored him enough to sweep out the barn. Two days in, and he felt as if he’d been dropped into solitary confinement for a decade. It made him wonder if Dani and Gabe had been this stir crazy during their tenure here. Other than during harvest and pruning season, the farm was mostly family run. But then, his siblings had each other to talk to while they’d lived here. As well as Gabe’s evil wife, Michelle. And eventually, Gabe and Michelle’s daughter.
That was the problem, Nick decided. He needed someone here, too. Which made him think of Harper.
She hadn’t called. Not that he’d really expected her to.
But he’d hoped she would.
When she’d told him about staying on that bull for eight seconds, he’d sworn he’d seen something more than pride in her eyes. Something haunting and sad. And angry. It was the same flicker of emotions he’d caught when he’d brought up her husband. Therefore, he’d convinced himself she could use a friend. That she needed someone to talk to.
And what? He thought he could be that friend? That he could help her move beyond fine?
He laughed at the absurdity. As a person who’d kept his own issues tucked tightly away over the years, he knew the implausibility of simply opening up. Wasn’t likely to happen. And especially not with a near stranger. Even if they had had a moment.
He thought about that second of time in the helicopter when he’d reached out and touched her shoulder. It had been brief, but as he’d hung suspended toward her and their gazes had connected, he’d felt as if he got her. As if he were more than a stranger.
Her younger self had flashed through his head, and he’d known that, though she’d changed over the years, though she’d suffered loss, the same person still lived inside her.
She’d been fearless and tough back then, willing to do anything or go anywhere. The word “independent” hadn’t come close to describing her. Yet as tough as she’d been, as much as she’d had no fear at facing down any perceived threat to her family or friends, she’d also had a gooey-soft center. She’d wanted to save the world.
And Nick remembered how he’d wanted that heart of gold of hers, and all the feelings it was capable of having, to be directed at him. Even though he’d have had no idea what to do with them if they had been.
His body grew tight from thinking about her now. He still wanted her attentions directed at him. He still wanted her.
Only, today he knew completely what to do with her.
His phone rang, and his pulse spiked with the thought that it could be Harper, but it was only Nate. His twin li
ved in Alaska these days, a crab fisherman in the Bering Sea in the wintertime, and a man of many other traits in the summer. He’d come home the least over the years, but he had come in for harvest the year before. At least for part of it. He’d also returned for Thanksgiving. It’d been the first time the entire family had been under one roof for a holiday since they’d all scattered to different parts of the country.
Nate hadn’t made it back for their dad’s Christmas wedding, but he’d promised to try being here for harvest again this year. It was a standing rule that if family members could be home during late July to help, then they would be home. It was the family business—whether they appreciated being saddled with it or not—and they should treat it as such.
“Well, if it isn’t the prodigal son.” Nick smiled as he answered the phone.
“And if it isn’t the sucker who got his arm twisted into going home,” Nate replied.
Nick finally moved from the hallway, heading toward the back of the house. He made his way through the connected kitchen and great room, and as he’d done when he’d first arrived home, he took in the many changes that had happened since his dad and Gloria had moved in. The house had once been the family home, housing his dad and mom, as well as all six kids. It was a huge two-story log home that his parents had built to fill with their many kids. From the outside looking in, they’d seemed like the perfect family. Which had been his mother’s plan. Show the world how great they were . . . then make everyone’s lives miserable at home.
She’d died when Nick and Nate had been ten, and though everyone had felt huge relief at no longer having to walk on eggshells around their narcissistic mother, nothing had ever really been the same.
“I don’t actually feel suckered,” Nick admitted now. He picked up a crocheted doily, which he knew to be something his new stepmother had made, and thought of how happy his dad had sounded as he and Gloria had headed out for their cruise. “I’m glad to do it,” Nick confessed. And it was the truth. He was glad to help out. He was also glad to be home.
Nate chuckled in his ear. “Sure you are. Because it’s such a happening place around there. So tell me about all the exciting things you’ve done today. Ride any bulls? Rope any ladies?”
Nick pictured Harper and her blue hair. “I don’t have to ride a bull to be satisfied.”
He continued moving through the room until he reached the wall of windows lining the back of the house. The scene outside included their orchard, as well as Flathead Lake, and Nick pulled in a deep breath as he took it in. It was a million-dollar view, and one he’d often forgotten to appreciate.
“My only issue is the silence,” he admitted. “I’m not used to being so alone.”
“It is a solitary job.”
“Kind of like yours?” Months at sea couldn’t be easy.
“I’m not the only man on the boat.”
“Not a lot of women with you, though, huh?”
They’d had this conversation before. It wasn’t as if Nate had any trouble getting a woman, but his schedule often made that difficult. Which probably suited his brother fine. Nate was in no more of a hurry to look for more than the occasional hookup than Nick. In fact, Nick wasn’t sure either of them would ever be ready for more. Their mother had done a number on all of them, and then their oldest brother had gone and married someone just like her. It was enough to scare the idea of commitment right out of a person.
Again, Nick thought about Harper. She’d been married for several years, and he found himself wondering if it had been a happy marriage. Had she discovered so-called love? He hoped so. She was a good person, and she deserved happiness. And yes, though he didn’t seek love out, he did believe in it. Sort of. But that had only begun recently, and only because he’d watched his sister fall hard herself.
Thankfully, her husband, Ben, was a good guy, and nothing like their mom. Otherwise, Nick and every one of his brothers would have run the man out of town the minute he’d looked Dani’s way.
“So what’s going on other than your miserable loneliness?” Nate asked.
“Pretty much nothing. I’m here without my truck—it broke down over the weekend. I can’t even get into town to go to the gym.”
“Use Dad’s truck. He and Gloria got a ride to the airport, didn’t they?”
“Dani and Ben took them.”
“So his truck is there. Use it.”
“But I want my truck.” Actually, he wanted to know for certain that Harper truly did plan to take him back to get it. He wanted to be up in the air with her again.
“Then sit there and be bored to death,” Nate muttered.
Nick grunted. “Why are you calling, exactly?”
“Can I not just want to talk?”
“Sure you can, but didn’t we just talk a couple of days ago? What’s up?” he asked again. “Going off the grid again, or heading out on a salmon boat?”
“Actually”—Nate paused—“I’m thinking of getting out of here for a while.”
“Getting out to where?” Nick couldn’t help but wonder if his brother’s sudden urge to mix up his norm was similar to what was going on in Nick’s head.
Last summer the entire family had finally cleared the air about their mother. She’d been manipulative, she’d tried to turn family members against one another, and she’d royally screwed with everyone’s heads. Even their dad’s. And they’d not talked about it as a family for fourteen long years. That had been another by-product of the way they’d been raised. Show the world they were perfect. Don’t talk about issues. No need to face reality.
So they’d not faced reality. And as such, they’d allowed their sister to effectively repaint their earlier years into something they’d all wanted to believe it had been.
Their head-in-the-sand mentality had done more harm than good, though, and reality had finally blown up in their faces as Dani made plans to move to New York City—with Gabe also declaring his intentions to move away. No one wanted to be here, and that had become painfully obvious. So they’d talked—argued—and everyone had finally begun to move forward. Then Dani had up and done a one-eighty. Her lifelong dream—having a big-time career in New York—turned out to not be her dream after all. After only three months away, she’d broken her lease and come home.
Her actions had affected Nick personally, causing him to take a hard look at his own life. Dani had wanted New York for as long as Nick could remember. Yet, she’d been wrong. And her ability to finally see her life clearly had been due to dealing with their family dysfunction.
Therefore, he’d had to ask himself: Was she the only one who’d gotten it wrong?
Was going national truly his next step, as everyone believed? Or could it be something else? This question had nagged at him for months, yet he was no closer to an answer now than he’d been when it had first slithered through his mind.
“Still trying to decide what I want to do,” Nate finally answered, pulling Nick back out of his own thoughts. “I’ve put in for leave but given no definite start or end dates yet.”
“Then come home,” Nick said. “Help me out here.”
“There’s not enough to do there right now. I spent too much time doing the same as a kid not to know that. Mowing and weeding mostly. Around-the-clock watering should start soon. But you don’t need me to turn the sprinklers on.”
“But if you’re here doing half the job, I’d have more time to chase those women you think I need to chase.” The reality was, he was tired of the women he chased.
“Yeah. Not gonna happen. I have about a million better options.” A couple of noises sounded through the phone. “I need to go,” Nate said. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“There’s always a bed for you here.”
Nate laughed. “You’re so lonely that you want me to come home and bunk in the same room with you like we did when we were kids?”
“Too good to sleep with me these days?”
“I can find better people to sleep with.”
Nick smiled, feeling less lonely just talking to his brother. He hoped Nate would come home. Forward steps and all that. They could all use some. But he also wouldn’t bet on it. Nate had even more issues than their mom when it came to being here. And Nick couldn’t blame him.
They signed off, and Nick made a quick decision and left through the back door. They had a small section of lake access on their property, as well as a boat dock. Their sister had spent many evenings there over the years. Searching for herself. So he decided that he could use a little searching himself.
And just maybe while he was at it, he’d see a certain red-and-white helicopter fly over.
Chapter Four
Harper switched the aircraft’s radio over to the station monitoring search and rescue missions as she flew, and blew out a soft breath at the lack of emergencies being reported. Not that she would have done anything if she’d heard a distress call. She no longer volunteered for the valley’s SAR program. But that didn’t mean she didn’t continue to listen in on a regular basis. With the mountains around them, and the entire area a prime spot for outdoor activities, too many people routinely got lost or hurt. And occasionally, someone didn’t make it out alive.
Every time that happened, it stole another piece of her heart. Not because she knew the casualties personally, but because she felt a deep-seated need to take care of the area and all the people in it. She’d always been that way. Or she had until . . .
Since Thomas’s death . . .
She gritted her teeth and pushed the 212 harder. Thomas shouldn’t have died. They’d been a team. They’d been the best thing she could ever imagine.
Hurt and anger mixed as she swept out over Flathead Lake, but she ignored all of it. She was returning from dropping off a team of corporate executives at a guest ranch not far from here—with a pickup scheduled for Sunday afternoon to take them back to Missoula International—and she had her aircraft pointed toward home. Only, there was nothing waiting for her at her house except another long evening alone, and she suddenly couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to be home. In the house that Thomas had built for them.