River's End

by Nora Roberts

  her, closed over heart and head.

  “I think I saw a shrew.” He passed her the coffee and settled down with his own. “Don’t know if it was a wandering or a dusky, but I’m pretty sure it was a shrew.”

  “The wandering’s found more often in the lowlands,” she heard herself say. “At this altitude it was probably a dusky.”

  “Whichever, it looked mostly like a mouse and was rooting around, for breakfast, I guess.”

  “They eat constantly, rarely go over three hours without a meal. Very like some city boys I know.”

  “I haven’t even mentioned breakfast.” He fortified himself with coffee. “I thought about it, but I haven’t mentioned it. The weather’s going to get better.” She merely lifted an eyebrow and glanced up toward the roof of the tent and the steady tapping of rain. “An hour, tops. And it’ll clear,” he insisted. “If I’m right, you cook breakfast in the sunshine. If I’m wrong, I do it in the rain.”

  “Deal.”

  “So, how about a date when we get back?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A date, you know. Dinner, a movie, making out in my rental car.”

  “I thought you’d be heading back to L.A. soon.”

  “I can work anywhere. You’re here.”

  It was so simple for him, she realized. “I keep trying to take a step back from you. You keep moving forward.”

  He smoothed her tousled hair with his fingers. “Is that a problem for you?”

  “Yes, but not as much as I thought it would be. Not as much as it should be.” She took a breath, braced herself. “I care about you. It’s not easy for me. I’m no good at this.”

  He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and said, “Practice.”

  While Noah and Olivia were inside the tent in the rain-splattered forest, Sam Tanner looked out the window of the rented cabin and into the gloom.

  He’d never understood what had drawn Julie to this place, with its rains and chill, its thick forests and solitude. She’d been made for the light, he thought. Spotlights, the elegant shimmer of chandeliers, the hot white flash of exotic beaches.

  But she’d always been pulled back here by some invisible tie. He realized now that he’d done his best to break that tie. He’d made excuses not to go with her, or he’d juggled their demands to prevent her from going alone. They’d only made the trip twice after Olivia was born.

  He’d ignored Julie’s need for home because he hadn’t wanted anyone or anything to be more important to her than he was.

  Before they could slide away from him, he picked up the mini-recorder he’d bought and put those thoughts on tape. He intended to speak with Noah again, but wasn’t sure how much more time he had. The headaches were raging down on him like a freight train and with terrifying regularity now.

  He suspected the doctors had overestimated his time, and the tapes were his backup.

  Whatever happened, whenever it happened, he was going to be sure the book found its way.

  He had everything he needed. He’d stocked the kitchen with food from the resort’s grocery store. There were times he didn’t have the energy for the dining room. He had plenty of tapes and batteries to continue his story until he was able to reach Noah again.

  Where the hell is he? Sam thought with a flush of anger. Time was running out, and he needed that connection. He needed not to be alone.

  The headache began to build in the center of his skull. He shook pills out of bottles—some prescription, some he’d risked buying on the street. He had to beat the pain. He couldn’t think, couldn’t function if he let the pain take over.

  And he had so much to do yet. So much to do.

  Olivia, he thought grimly. There was a debt to pay.

  He set the bottles back on the table, beside the long gleaming knife and the Smith & Wesson .38.

  Noah might have felt smug about being right about the rain, but he felt even better when they reached the lowland forest. He could start dreaming of a hot shower now, a quiet room and several hours alone with his computer and a phone.

  “You’ve lost two bets to me now,” he reminded her. “It stopped raining, and I never whined for my laptop.”

  “Yes, you did. You just did it in your head.”

  “That doesn’t count. Pay up. No, forget I said that. I’ll take it in trade. We’ll call it even if you find me a room where I can work for a few hours.”

  “I can probably come up with something.”

  “And a place I can shower and change?” He smiled when she slanted him a look. “I’m on line for a room at the lodge if you get any cancellations, but meanwhile I’m relegated to a campsite and public showers. I’m very shy.”

  Delighted with her giggle, he grabbed her hand. “Except around you. You can shower with me. We take conservation very seriously in my family.”

  She scowled, but only for form’s sake. “We can swing by the house,” she said after checking her watch. “My grandmother should be out with one of the children’s groups for a while yet, then she generally goes marketing. You’ve got an hour, Brady, to get yourself cleaned up and out. I don’t want her upset.”

  “That’s not a problem.” He told himself he wouldn’t let it be. “But she’s going to have to meet me eventually, Liv. At the wedding, anyway.”

  “Ha ha.” She tugged her hand free.

  “We can make another bet. I say I can charm her inside of an hour.”

  “No deal.”

  “You’re just afraid because you know she’ll come over to my side and tell you what a blind fool you are for not throwing yourself at my feet.”

  “You really need to get a grip.”

  “Oh, I’ve got one.” And I’ve got you, he thought. We’re both just figuring that out.

  He saw the flickers of color first, through the trees and the green wash of light. Dabs and dapples of red and blue and yellow, then the glint that was stronger sunlight shooting off glass.

  When he stepped into the clearing, he stopped, pulling Olivia to a halt beside him.

  When he’d driven her home, it had been dark, deep and dark, and he’d only seen the shape of shadow against night, and the flickers of light in a window.

  Now, he thought the house looked like a fairy tale with its varied rooflines and sturdy old wood and stone, flowers flowing at its base and sprinkling into sweeps of pretty colors and shapes.

  There were two rockers on the porch, pots filled with more brilliant flowers and generous windows on all sides that would have opened the inside world up to the forest.

  “It’s perfect.”

  She watched his face as he said it, as surprised to see he meant just that as by the rush of pleasure it gave her.

  “It’s been the MacBrides’ home for generations,” she told him.

  “No wonder.”

  “No wonder what?”

  “No wonder it’s your place. It’s exactly right for you. This, not the house in Beverly Hills. That would never have been you.”

  “I’ll never know that.”

  He turned from the house to look into her eyes. “Yes, you do.”

  With someone else she might have shrugged it off. With anyone else, she wouldn’t have spoken of it. “Yes, I do know that. How do you?”

  “You’ve been inside me for twenty years.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to. What I know is that when I try to project twenty years from now, you’re still there.”

  Her heart did one long, slow roll. She had to look away to steady it. “God, you get to me.” She shook her head when his hands came to her shoulders, when he shifted her back to him. “No, not now.”

  “Always,” he said quietly, and settled his lips softly, dreamily on hers.

  Without a sound, without a struggle, her arms came up and around him, her body leaned in. Not surrender, not this time. This time acceptance.

  Emotions stormed through him, fast and hot and needy. And his mouth grew ro
ugh on hers. “Tell me,” he demanded. He was wild to hear the words, to hear from her lips what he could taste on them.

  She wanted to, wanted to fling herself off the edge and trust him to fall with her. The fear and the joy of it roared in her head. She teetered there, pulled in both directions, and only jerked away when she heard the sound of an engine laboring up the lane.

  “Someone’s coming.”

  He kept his hands on her shoulders, his eyes on hers. “You’re in love with me. Just say it.”

  “I—it’s the truck. It’s my grandmother.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “God, what have I done?”

  The truck was already rounding the turn. Too late to ask him to go, Olivia realized. Too late even if the glint in his eye told her he wouldn’t have quietly slipped into the trees.

  She turned away, braced herself as the truck pulled up. “I’ll handle this.”

  “No.” He took her hand in a firm grip. “We’ll handle it.”

  Val sat where she was as they walked to the truck. Her fingers were tight on the wheel. She saw the distress and apology on Olivia’s face and looked away from it.

  “Grandma.” Olivia stopped at the driver’s side, rested her free hand on the base of the open window.

  “So, you’re back.”

  “Yes, just now. I thought you’d be with the children’s group.”

  “Janine took it.” Rage had her by the throat, whipping the words out before she could stop them. “Did you think to sneak in and out before I got home?”

  Stunned, Olivia blinked, stood numbly as Noah shifted in front of her, much as he had to shield her from the cougar. “I asked Olivia if I could shower and change, since the lodge is booked. I’m Noah Brady, Mrs. MacBride.”

  “I know who you are. This is Livvy’s home,” she said shortly. “If she’s told you that you can use it to clean up, that’s her right. But I have nothing to say to you. Move aside,” she ordered. “I have groceries to put away.”

  She dragged at the wheel and, without another glance at either of them, drove around the back of the house.

  “I broke my word to her,” Olivia murmured.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  She let out a shuddering breath that caught in her throat as he started after the truck. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  “To help your grandmother carry in the groceries.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” She caught up, dragged at his arm. “Just go! Can’t you see how I hurt her?”

  “Yeah, I can see it. And I can damn well see how she’s hurt you.” The steel was back in his voice as he took her wrist, pulled her hand away. “I’m not backing off. You’re both going to have to deal with that.”

  He strode to the back of the house and, before Val could protest, plucked a bag out of her hand. Reaching into the bed of the truck, he hauled out another. “I’ll take these in.”

  He carted them onto the back porch and let himself in through the kitchen door.

  “I’m sorry.” Olivia rushed to Val. “Grandma, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have—I’ll make him go.”

  “You’ve already made your choices.” Back stiff, Val reached in for another bag.

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m sorry.” She could taste hysteria bubbling in her own throat. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make him go.”

  “No, you won’t.” Struggling to hold his temper, Noah came back out. He walked to the truck, took the last two bags. “Any more than I’ll make you do anything. If you want to take it out on someone, Mrs. MacBride, take it out on me.”

  “Noah, would you just go?”

  “And leave you here feeling guilty and unhappy?” He gave her a long, quiet look that had Val’s eyes narrowing. “You know better. I’m sorry we disagree about the book,” he continued, turning back to Val. “I’m sorry that my being here upsets you. But the fact is, I’m going to write the book, and I’m going to be a part of Olivia’s life. I hope we can come to terms about both, because she loves you. She loves you enough, and is grateful enough for everything you’ve done for her and been to her, that if it comes down to a choice between your peace of mind and her own happiness, she’ll choose you.”

  “That’s not fair,” Olivia began, and Val cut her off with a lifted hand.

  The wound inside her might have broken open again, might have been raw and viciously painful. But her eyes were still clear, they were still sharp. She wanted to dislike his face, to find it cold and hard and ruthless. She wanted to see self-interest, perhaps coated with a thin sheen of polish.

  Instead she saw the glint of anger that hadn’t faded since it had flashed into his eyes when she’d snapped at Olivia. And she saw the strength she’d once seen in his father’s face.

  “That book will not be discussed in this house.”

  Noah nodded. “Understood.”

  “There’re perishables in those bags,” Val said as she turned away. “I have to get them put away.”

  “Just give them to me,” Olivia began, then hissed in frustration when he simply walked past her and into the house behind her grandmother.

  Left with no choice, Olivia dragged off her pack, dumped it on the porch and hurried in after them.

  Already unloading bags, Val glanced toward the door as Olivia came in. She saw nerves, ripe and jittery, in her granddaughter’s eyes. It made her feel ashamed.

  “You might as well take that pack off,” she said to Noah. “I imagine you’re sick of carrying it by now.”

  “If I admitted that, Liv would smirk at me. She wants me to think she thinks I’m a shallow urbanite who can’t tell east from west.”

  “You can’t,” Olivia murmured and had Noah grinning at her.

  “I was just testing you.”

  “And are you?” Val asked. If she’d been blind, she would have seen the bond in the look that passed between them. “A shallow urbanite.”

  “No, ma’am, I’m not. The fact is I’ve fallen in love, not just with Liv—though that came as a jolt to both of us—but with Washington. At least your part of it. I’ve already picked some spots where we could build our house, but Liv says we’d run into trouble because it’s a national park.”

  “He’s just babbling,” Olivia managed when she had untangled her tongue. “There isn’t—”

  “Spending a few days at the lodge or camping isn’t like living here,” Val interrupted.

  “I don’t guess it is.” Noah leaned back comfortably against the counter. “But I’m a pretty flexible guy about some things. And this is where she’s happy. This is home for her. As soon as I saw this place, I thought she’d like to get married right here in the yard, between the flowers and the forest. That would suit her, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh, stop it!” Olivia burst out. “There isn’t—”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Noah said mildly, then offered Val an easy smile. “She’s crazy about me, but she’s having a little trouble, you know, settling into it.”

  Val nearly smiled. It broke her heart, then filled it again to see the amused exasperation on her little girl’s face. “You’re a clever young man, aren’t you?”

  “I like to think so.”

  She sighed a little as she neatly folded the last brown bag. “You might as well go get the rest of your things. You can stay in the guest room.”

  “Thanks. I’ll just leave the pack here.” He turned, caught Olivia by the chin while she was still trying to catch up and kissed her, warmly, deeply. “I won’t be long.”