The Secret Twin

by Catherine Mann

  “That’s Naomi.”

  “You too, kiddo.”

  Marshall felt like a coward. So he said, “Dad, I wanna fly.”

  With shaking hands, Marshall approached the yoke. He grasped on to it with all the gusto of a World-War-II-era fighter pilot.

  Made himself look out to the horizon, the colors whooshing before him. His stomach as choppy as an uneasy sea. And that sea rose within him until he felt the burning sensation of vomit bubble in the back of his throat.

  No. No. No. Not like this. He could tamp it down. Had to.

  But then there was the expanse of land before him. The height. And try as he might, he could not stop the hiccup of vomit from exploding out of his mouth and down the caribou shirt his grandmother had given him.

  Cheeks burning, he fled to the small on-plane bathroom to wipe his mouth.

  Brea was there, waiting for him when he left the bathroom. She knelt beside him, passing him a washcloth like their mom would have done. “Marshall, you’re good on horses. I’m scared of falling off.”

  He knew she meant well, but it didn’t help him feel any better. Steeles didn’t flinch. They didn’t give up. Ever...

  With her brother’s words still echoing in her mind, Brea stared out the aircraft window, the North Dakota plains stretching out for miles and miles. Far away from Alaska, leaving even Canada behind.

  Maybe this trip was a good idea after all. Time away from both parts of her childhood, and a chance to embrace tomorrow rather than the past.

  Because thinking about any part of her childhood knocked her more and more off-balance at a time when she needed to keep her head straight. If any one of the Mikkelsons was involved in trying to harm her family, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

  This time with Chuck Mikkelson could offer a chance to ferret out clues about the day her world imploded, breaking her ties with everyone who’d once been so important to her.

  Seven

  Ward had been to forty-two states over the course of his career, but this was his first trip to North Dakota. And normally he would have been all about the job, about the new insights on the pipeline. Not today. He just wanted to finish the meeting and get Brea alone, to see if he could persuade her to reclaim the explosive chemistry they’d shared too briefly.

  He forced his attention back on work for the moment, since the faster he finished here, the sooner he could return with her to their hotel suite. At least maybe he could get more hints about what made her tick. He stomped his boots to get the circulation flowing again in his feet as they stood in the frigid weather. Snow whipped all around this section of the pipeline. He was used to cold, having lived in Alaska, but the wind sweeping across the Dakota plains had a bite that stole his breath.

  But despite the bone-cold scrape of the wind, Shana and Chuck Mikkelson seemed to love their new home state.

  Ward stayed back a step, listening as Chuck gave them all a tour of the modifications on the pipeline. He covered everything from innovations made, thanks to Royce’s work on efficiency, to the safety upgrades.

  Lord, this was a stark wasteland. They’d traveled for two hours in a luxury RV. Chuck said he’d bought the vehicle because of how often they traveled out to remote sites. If they were caught in a storm, he and Shana could park the RV and ride out the weather in their own little home away from home. There was even a storage compartment underneath for a car if they needed to park at a work site and wanted the freedom of a smaller vehicle.

  Wind whistling past his ears, Ward wondered what Brea was making of all of this. Was she glad she’d come? Or was she feeling stressed? She had stayed glued to his side, and he wasn’t sure if that was to play along with their fake relationship or because she genuinely needed him. She’d made a point of wanting to be here, but had stayed unusually quiet since they’d arrived, especially once Marshall had headed off to catch a rodeo on his own.

  It seemed to him she was avoiding Naomi. Which was hard to do in these luxurious, yet close, quarters. But he couldn’t determine why.

  Snow came down faster, the wind blowing it sideways. Hard. Pellets stung his cheeks.

  Chuck angled a look at Ward while tugging his overcoat collar up more securely over his ears. “Should we put this tour on hold due to weather?”

  Ward cocked an eyebrow. “I doubt it’s going to get much better for a couple of months. So I’d just as soon we finish today. Royce? Your thoughts?”

  “Press on,” the man of few words replied.

  Her blond hair peeking free from her hood, Shana Mikkelson waved a gloved hand toward Naomi and Brea. “Let’s get some coffee in the RV.”

  Indecision chased across Brea’s wind-reddened features. She bit her chapped lip and then said, “Sure, I could use something warm.”

  So much for getting clues about her by watching Brea with her sister. He studied Brea’s retreating figure as she left his side, her thick braid specked with ice and snow.

  Chuck adjusted his Stetson, pulling it further down his head, covering more of his golden-brown hair. “I’m glad you could both make it here. There’s a lot of work left to be done, but it’s an exciting new venture for the company.”

  Ward forced his thoughts back to the job at hand, focusing on Chuck and the work he was doing here. Networking was an underrated portion of the CEO job, but something that always paid off. “How’s your move coming with starting the new job?”

  Shrugging against the wind, Chuck angled his body toward Ward and Royce. Snow began to accumulate on his wool coat. “We’re building a place on a ten-acre piece of land that already had a converted barn on the property. It’s great to be on-site and watch every stage of the process. We figure the barn will make a great guesthouse, too.”

  Royce stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Looking forward to seeing it.”

  “You’re staying with us, of course,” Chuck said, his voice rising to combat the wind.

  Sharing an afternoon together was one thing. Staying under the same roof was another, and an arrangement Ward didn’t think Brea would want. “I made reservations downtown.”

  “We have plenty of space at the house,” Chuck offered. “Guest rooms and a loft.”

  Ward whistled. “That must be a mighty big barn. I’ll see what Brea thinks.”

  Chuck nodded. “Family is important to us. Leaving Alaska was a big transition, one we felt we needed to make for our marriage. But we want to maintain the close relationships we have, especially once we have kids. Hopefully the house will be done before the baby needs a nursery.”

  “You’re expecting?” Ward extended his hand, trying not to think of the stepdaughter he couldn’t see. “Congratulations.”

  “We’re adopting.” Chuck shook his hand, a smile of pure happiness spreading across his face. “The timing could be tomorrow, or months, or years from now. We have to wait until they match us to a child. We’re just glad to be together after a rough patch not too long ago.”

  “Good to hear it.”

  Chuck’s eyes narrowed as he squinted against the pelting snowfall. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you and Brea become an item?”

  “We met through the business. Alaska Oil Barons, Inc., sure does host more than its fair share of charity events, and Brea and I ended up in the same corners of the room a few times. She’s a beautiful woman,” Ward said simply, honestly. Best to keep it straightforward. Private.

  “I’m just surprised she’ll have anything to do with the company after all her reservations about coming back into the family fold.”

  Ward didn’t intend to tell him that she wasn’t fully embracing the family—not yet. “She was gone for a long time.”

  Kicking the snow beneath his boot, Ward noticed the way stress lines creased the corners of Chuck’s mouth. “She seems to resent us, the Mikkelsons. How she could blame my mom—or even Jack—
is beyond me. I’ve found no proof that anyone in the business had anything to do with that crash. I’ve searched my father’s records at length.”

  “And Brea knows this?” Ward couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

  “I’ve told my mother. A lot of rumors floated around at the time of the accident, especially because of the deep rivalry between the families.” Chuck shook his head. “But there’s just no proof my family had anything to do with it.”

  Royce, who had been content to observe the conversation, cleared his throat. His quiet sensibility was something Ward appreciated. The man didn’t waste words. He had a scientist’s way of synthesizing important elements.

  “It can be very difficult to accept that sometimes accidents just happen.”

  Chuck thumped a piece of equipment. “I’m obviously relieved Brea’s alive. But it’s tough watching this family feel all torn up again, between the merger and the riding accident Jack had last year...”

  “And your mother’s marriage...” Ward reminded him.

  The family had gone through a lot in a short period of time. He felt for them, but Brea was his priority.

  “Yeah,” Chuck agreed, sighing out a white cloud into the cold air, “that was a shocker.”

  It didn’t appear Chuck Mikkelson had any new insights to offer, as much as Ward would have wished otherwise, for Brea’s sake. “Let’s finish up out here before we freeze our asses off.”

  Both men agreed, and Chuck launched back into details on the gauges and valves, waving for them to follow him to a garage-sized workshop full of control panels.

  Anticipation charged through Ward. He was that much closer to ending the workday. That only left an obligatory supper out, and then he could move forward with plans to get Brea alone at the hotel.

  He only wished he had better news to share with her about her search for answers. Because, truth be told, he guessed that her personal quest was the main reason she’d taken this trip.

  And her being here didn’t really have a damned thing to do with him.

  He shouldn’t be bothered by her reaction. He wasn’t in the market for a serious relationship after being burned by his ex. Paisley had paid the biggest price, and that hurt him most.

  After such a massive mistake, he was better off focusing on what he did best, running the Alaska Oil Barons, Inc.

  * * *

  Brea looked around the RV that was as large as some of the off-the-grid houses in her former community. And definitely far more luxurious with a buttery-soft leather wrap-around sofa and a recliner. Decorated in warm browns, tans and copper, the space made for a lovely home away from home.

  Shana stood at the counter, making coffee, while Naomi sat crossed-legged on the couch. It was so surreal being in the same space with her twin after so many years apart. They’d been so close once. Would they ever be so again?

  The other two women’s conversation hummed around Brea, and she turned her attention to stare out the window at Ward, his shoulders broad, taller than the other men who wore Stetsons.

  “Don’t you agree, Brea?”

  She looked back quickly at her twin. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Naomi tapped the window pane, gesturing toward the men outside, whom Brea had been staring at. “Royce has made brilliant innovations for a cleaner transfer of oil.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s fascinating on a number of levels.” Brea couldn’t help but be intrigued personally, too. “In my community, getting those sorts of cutting-edge inventions was often difficult, due to being so separate from the rest of the world.”

  Maybe if the village had been more accessible, she would have been found? That shift in her thinking gave her pause.

  Shana’s hand moved with smooth efficiency as she pulled mugs from the cabinet. “I’m glad we had a quiet day to look over things. Chuck’s brother got caught in the middle of quite a scene with the media last summer.”

  Brea had read up on the Mikkelsons and the younger son, Trystan, who had been in scrapes with the press. “He’s the one who married his media consultant.”

  “They have a baby boy,” Shana said wistfully, then smiled as the coffee maker gurgled. “We’re planning to adopt. It’s going to happen for us, I just get impatient.”

  Brea hadn’t given much thought to having children. Since her teenage years, her life had been so consumed with figuring out the past and how to weave whatever she found into her present so she could move forward with the future. But right now, she found her thoughts captivated by the notion of holding an infant in her arms.

  What an unsettling notion, though, the idea of permanence, family, longevity—especially when she could barely wrap her brain around the notion of an affair.

  The aroma of hazelnut and coffee beans filled the luxury RV.

  Brea’s gaze slid to the window overlooking the trio of men striding across the icy lot, toward a large garage-like area. Ward was so tall and imposing, his long-legged steps confident and sure-footed. Could she really hold strong to her decision not to sleep with him again? She wanted to give in to temptation, but the strength of that draw made her all the more cautious. She needed to tread warily for just that reason. Their simple affair wasn’t turning out to be so simple after all.

  Shana set a bamboo tray of stoneware coffee mugs down on the small table in front of Brea. Steam rolled from the mugs, and both twins blew over their steaming cup of java at the same time.

  Brea looked up self-consciously. An echo of her grandmother’s words whispered through her.

  It’s the twin bond.

  Shana had already made her way back to the coffeepot and was filling a silver thermos. “I’m going to take some coffee out to the guys.” She waved them back to their seats. “Don’t get up. I can carry it all.”

  Thermos under her arm, she carried stacked cups and opened the door. A blast of frigid air filled with snow rolled inside. The door closed after her, slamming from the force of the wind.

  Naomi looked at her sister. “I know this whole situation is awkward, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me as we figure out how to be a family again.”

  “Thank you.” Brea poured creamer into her coffee. “And I’m trying to push past the awkwardness. It’s just scary to me that there are still a lot of unanswered questions about what happened. You should be worried too, for your girls.”

  She glanced up at the array of Mikkelson family photographs on the built-in bookcase. Her eyes focused on one of the older photographs of the Mikkelson clan as she remembered them from her limited exposure in the past—this was the family who had been their bitter business rivals.

  Her stomach catapulted at the image.

  Naomi shivered, her arms wrapping protectively around herself. “You can’t really believe someone is still out to get us.”

  Her twin’s eyes were concerned, but not suspicious. Not accusing. Whatever Naomi might believe, she was at least inclined to listen with an open mind, and Brea appreciated that. So often since she’d returned, she felt like she had to weigh every word.

  “I think someone could have a reason to hide what they did. You’re a lawyer. You should know that.”

  Naomi bit her bottom lip. “Okay, I can see your point. Whatever you need me to do help you investigate, I want you to know, I’m on board. I’m sure Shana would offer her professional assistance, too. She’s a top-notch investigator.”

  “I know. She found me.” Brea’s skin prickled. “If it’s okay, I’d rather refrain from involving the Mikkelsons any more than we have to.”

  “So, you really think they...” Naomi’s words hung in the air between them as the aggressive wind rocked the RV slightly.

  “I think their loyalty to each other could make them close their eyes to possibilities and make it tougher for me to find the truth. What if it were Charles Mikkelson Sr.? How far would t
hey go to protect his memory?”

  Brea looked away from her twin’s horrified expression, the pinch of guilt over inflicting pain on the family making Brea uncomfortable. She peered outside, watching Shana pass the thermos and cups to the men inside the shelter of the open garage that was big as a hangar.

  “But if it was him, he’s dead now and not a threat,” Naomi pointed out logically.

  Naomi leaned forward, putting her mug of coffee down on the side table.

  Brea considered her twin’s words, her attention wandering around the luxury RV. Little touches of photographs and Alaska memorabilia—knickknacks, such as elk and bear figurines, on the shelves—showed the blended life of Shana and Chuck. Normally, personal touches would be comforting.

  But in this situation?

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the Mikkelsons—something she was missing. Some sign of foul play in relation to the plane crash. And while she didn’t want to believe it could be these people she now had to call family...

  “Or there could have been others involved, along with him.” Her eyes went out of focus for a second, lingering back on the pictures on the bookshelf. “Once I know the truth, I hope the path forward will be simple for us all.”

  “As do I.” Naomi uncrossed her legs, leather creaking with the movement.

  Brea tried to put together the right thing to say, and found there were no perfect words for something like this. She drew in a deep inhale of coffee and leather. She squeezed her eyes shut, resolved to talk, knowing the time frame would never be right. “How will Dad feel if Jeannie’s family is involved? Will he even believe the truth? Or will he subconsciously block me from finding out a truth he can’t bear to know? I honestly don’t want to see him hurt.”

  Slowly, Naomi nodded. “I can understand that.”

  A keening bark of North Dakota wind added its lonely wail to their dark conversation.

  “Really?” Brea hadn’t expected that concession. “Thank you. It makes it easier to talk to you if there aren’t expectations in place that I can’t meet.”