by Cora Seton
“No—stay right there,” Noah said. “I can hold off Mom for a couple of days. Let me and Stella work on her for a while. See what the hell this is all about.”
If Noah was swearing, it was serious.
Hell, it was serious. They couldn’t afford to buy out anyone who had a share of the ranch, and if his mother thought they were selling it, she could think again.
“I won’t lose the Flying W,” Liam ground out.
“You’re right. You won’t. I swear to God, Liam—no matter what it takes.” Noah was quiet a moment, then he chuckled. “Guess we’d better win the Founder’s Prize. We could sell the Ridley property. Give her the cash.”
“Why doesn’t she earn her own cash?” Noah was right, though. If they won the Ridley property, it would fix more than one problem.
“Wish I knew,” Noah said. “Hang in there. Take that break you need. Say hi to Tory for me. I’ll see you in a few days.”
He hung up, leaving Liam to gape at the phone.
How the hell did Noah know about Tory?
“What’s up, Mom?” Tory asked when she answered her phone. If she hadn’t felt bad for listening in on Liam’s call with his brother, she would have ignored her mother again, but she supposed she couldn’t do that forever. She wished she could get back to the part where it was just her and Liam, though. A moment ago, standing in the sunshine with him, just the trace of a breeze whispering over her skin, she’d been… happy.
“Where are you?”
“Out.”
“For God’s sake, Tory, I was worried about you. You never came home last night.”
Was she serious? “Isn’t it a little late to play the doting mother?”
“Ouch,” Enid said. “Direct hit.”
“Sorry.” As soon as she said it, Tory wanted to smack herself. Why was she the one apologizing?
“So where are you?”
“With a friend.”
“I thought… I thought we were going to spend some time together,” Enid said. “I told you I’d be in town this week.”
“You said you’d be here all week. I figured we could grab lunch in a few days.”
Enid was quiet for a long moment. “I’d hoped for more than lunch.”
When was she going to learn lunch was all Tory had to give her? She’d been a mess when she’d first landed in Seattle, scrambling to find work, a place to live, a way to exist in a city that at first was too big, too expensive, too much of everything for a country girl like her. She’d met a lot of people—fast. Some were genuinely friendly. Others wanted something from her. She’d had a crash course in learning to separate the wheat from the chaff. Thank goodness an older waitress she’d worked with briefly had given her some sage advice early on.
“When you meet someone and spend a little time with them, ask yourself—do I feel better or worse afterward? If you feel better, keep them around. If you feel worse, even if you aren’t sure why, get the hell away from them.”
It had been a long time since being around Enid had made her feel better.
“Is this the way it is with you?” Enid went on when she didn’t answer. “People get one chance, and if they blow it, that’s that? Is no one allowed to make a mistake?”
“It was a pretty big mistake, Mom.”
“Yes, it was. A huge mistake. But maybe if you put yourself in my shoes—”
“I don’t want to, and what’s more—” Tory tried to moderate her rising tone. “What’s more, even if I did, I’d never, ever leave my children, no matter what.”
“Of course not. Not you,” Enid said bitterly. “Not my perfect daughter, who never, ever makes mistakes—except you do leave people behind, don’t you? You left your sister and brothers behind when you headed to Seattle. I know you hurt Olivia a lot.”
Tory’s mouth dropped open. Had her mother actually said that? Guilt clogged her voice when she tried to put words to her outrage. “I was seventeen. I had my life to live, Mom. That’s hardly the same thing! Olivia had Aunt Joan.”
“Olivia wanted you. She depended on you. She told me that. She said it broke her heart when you left her behind.”
Tory dropped the phone. Went to kick it. Restrained herself and paced in a circle before picking it up, swiping at it with her finger and ending the call. How dare her mother say those things? How dare she compare them? Enid was Olivia’s mother, for heaven’s sake. Mothers were never supposed to leave their children. Big sisters were different—
But her mother had found her weak spot, and her accusations burned her to the core. Leaving Olivia had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. She’d known it would hurt her sister, but she’d been dying in Idaho, and she was afraid if she stayed, she’d lose herself altogether.
She’d thought about it like the airplane drill where they told you to put on your own oxygen mask before saving someone else. She’d been stifled. Fighting to breathe. She had to touch down somewhere else and get air in her lungs. Only then could she come back for Olivia.
It had taken far too long, though. Olivia had grown up. Returned to Chance Creek with Lance and Steel. She’d made her own way.
And Tory could never make up for what she’d done. A gulf separated her from Olivia, because as much as she wanted to be close to her sister, and as nice as Olivia had been to her so far, she was terrified one day she would voice the same accusations Enid just had.
Tory didn’t think she could stand that. Shame would bury her alive.
Was that how Enid felt—
No.
She would not feel sorry for her mother.
It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.
No matter what her mother said.
The paddle back across the water seemed to take twice as long. Like he’d warned Tory earlier, a wind had kicked up, and the waves, while not over-large, built resistance against their forward progress.
Liam couldn’t think of a thing to say, his thoughts consumed with his mother’s play for her share of the ranch. They couldn’t owe her money, could they? Even if they did, would she really exact it from them?
Tory was quiet, too. He’d seen her drop her phone, then scramble to pick it up again. He could only assume her call had been bad news. When he questioned her, she just shook her head.
“The past coming to get me.”
He could understand how that felt.
Back on land they stowed away the canoe and paddles. He locked the boathouse door and shimmied up the birch tree to return the key.
He built a new fire in the fire ring, broke out some hot dogs from his cooler and laid them on the metal grill he’d positioned over the flames.
He didn’t even pretend it would be a balanced meal. He had rolls if Tory wanted them. Ketchup. Potato chips. Good enough, as far as he was concerned.
Tory didn’t complain.
He had a feeling she didn’t even taste the food he gave her. Her gaze rested on the land for sale across the water, as if she’d like to return there, pitch a tent and never go home.
“Why can’t it all be this easy?” she asked suddenly. “Just you and me. A fire. A little food. A stupid canoe and a lake.”
“I don’t know.” That all sounded good to him. Much better than returning to fight with his own mother over his inheritance.
“I hate my mom. Sometimes I hate myself.” A tear slid down Tory’s cheek, and she swiped at it angrily. She wasn’t one to let her emotions show, which meant she kept them all bottled up inside, the same way he did. He’d learned over the years to his detriment that wasn’t the best strategy. He hoped she knew he wouldn’t think less of her if she cried in front of him.
Liam scooted closer, took her in his arms and tugged her in until her head rested against his shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said. He kept his gaze on the lake so if she needed to let loose a few more tears, she could do so privately. When she was in his arms, everything else faded away a little. He remembered what Noah had said: they’d get through this.
They woul
dn’t lose the ranch.
He could stand just about anything else.
He thought he felt her shoulders shaking, so he kept on murmuring words into her hair until she drew in a deep breath and pulled back a little.
“Why do you hate yourself?” he asked when she had pulled herself together.
“I’m not the person I wanted to be. Not by a long shot. I’m petty. And scared. And I made a really big mistake.” Her voice cracked. Liam couldn’t guess what she meant. Had she committed some crime? That seemed to be more Steel’s thing.
“What kind of mistake?” The question came out more harshly than he’d intended.
She looked up at him. “Not that kind of mistake. I didn’t do a hit and run, if that’s what you mean.”
“I didn’t—”
“Didn’t you? Because I’m a Cooper?”
Liam sighed. “What did you do?”
“I… left. When I should have stayed. Now I’m as bad as my mom. As bad as your mom.”
“Hey, slow down.” Liam shifted into a more comfortable position, gathering Tory back into the circle of his arm. They were seated again in the sand, their backs against one of the large logs of the fire ring. “Do you have some kid I don’t know about?”
“No.”
“Then you’re not as bad as either of our mothers.”
Tory gave this a moment’s consideration and shook her head. “Maybe not. But I left Olivia when she needed me, and that’s pretty much the same thing. She looked up to me, Liam. I was a mom to her when Mom left.”
“She had your aunt.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. But it’s an excuse. Truth is, I knew I was going to hurt her badly, and I did it anyway.”
Liam listened to the waves crashing on the shore. Located a bird from its call in one of the trees overhead. “Olivia will forgive you.” That was the answer to most things, wasn’t it? Forgiveness.
Not that he was any expert in that.
He was as stubborn as his old man had been in that regard, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that if he examined the sentiment, and his own behavior to some of the people around him, he’d have some apologizing to do.
Liam hated apologizing.
“I should probably go home. Face the music,” Tory said.
“Stay.”
Hours later, Tory had to admit she loved being with Liam. She loved this strange little resort by the lake, too. She knew their time here was temporary. Sooner or later she’d have to go home, face Enid—and Olivia.
For now she was content to put that off.
She and Lance had sat together after lunch for a long time, watching the world around them. When they’d gotten too stiff, they’d stood up, cleaned up their makeshift meal and explored the rest of the resort.
Now they stood beneath one of the treehouse cabins she had so longed to see when she’d been a child. There were six of them, three on either side of the lodge. Around them, tucked into the woods, were more cabins—normal ones that sat on the ground. They were cute and rustic, but it was the treehouses that had always captured her imagination.
“Can we go up there?” She touched the railing of a rickety-looking staircase that wrapped around one of the trees that made up a corner post to the little building that was suspended between several large pines.
On closer inspection, Tory realized cunningly hidden posts held up the little building. That meant no damage had been done to the trees themselves and that if they grew at different speeds, the treehouse wouldn’t be twisted between them, she supposed.
“This is the sturdiest of them. I think it will hold,” Liam said. “It’s a damn shame the place has been let to fall apart like this.”
“I can’t believe no one’s come and squatted here.” She let her hand rest on the staircase railing, her chin tilted so she could examine the treads. They seemed like they’d carry her weight.
“Me, neither, but like I said—I’m pretty sure there’s a caretaker. Someone in town told me once he comes every Thursday for a poke around. We’ll be gone long before then.”
Was that reluctance in his voice? She knew she didn’t want to think about the real world. She’d have to, though. She needed a part-time job to pay for her expenses when she went to school this fall, and so far she hadn’t secured one.
Liam tested the stairs. “They’ve always held me before. Come on, but watch the railing—it’s loose.”
They made their way up the steps, and Tory was enchanted by how the view shifted as they climbed. When they reached the narrow deck at the top of the stairs, they could see out over the whole lake.
“How could anyone leave this place behind?” she asked.
“I know, right?” Liam opened the door to the little cottage. “Check it out.”
Inside, the place was as tidy and droll as a ship’s cabin. There were built-in window seats, a dresser and a desk. A table sat under one window, and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf lined one wall.
“There’s an outhouse not too far away on the ground. It’s boarded up now,” Liam answered her unspoken question. “Everyone ate in the main lodge. I think people were allowed to cook for themselves there, too. Or use one of the firepits outside.”
“It’s perfect.”
“I think the bed would have gone here.” He pointed to a space where nothing else sat near the wall.
“That makes sense.” She had a flash of her and Liam in a bed. Sharing a small cabin—
Her skin tingled at the thought of his touch—of being intimate with him.
Was he thinking about that, too?
“Maybe the Hunts will come back some day,” she said to cover her confusion. “Open the place again.”
“I hope so. Silver Falls could use some sprucing up all around.”
“You got that right.”
When they were done exploring the tree house, they walked under the others, Liam pointing out the damage to them and explaining why he wouldn’t attempt to climb into them.
He was right; the place needed a ton of work. They weren’t able to enter the lodge, but they peered in the front windows, comparing notes about what they knew about the building and the family who used to own it.
By that time they were hot, and when Liam suggested a swim, Tory was all for it. She wondered if he’d suggest skinny dipping, but over the course of the afternoon, he’d kept his distance. He swam in bathing trunks. She kept her bra and panties on.
Lying on the beach afterward, they both snoozed a little. Dinner was hamburgers. By the time they climbed into their sleeping bags again that night, spread out on the beach under a sky strewn with stars, Tory found her troubles with her family had slipped away again. In a few days she’d deal with Enid and make her first attempt to really reconnect with Olivia.
She’d apologize for what she’d done.
But for now she was going to enjoy herself.
Chapter Four
“There’s something else you have to see,” Liam told Tory the following morning, needing to get moving before lust consumed him completely. He’d been half-hard since Tory had stripped down to her bra and panties the previous day to go for a swim. He’d woken up to find her nestled nearly in his arms, although they each had a separate sleeping pad and bag. They’d kissed a few more times before hitting the hay last night, but he hadn’t tried to take anything further, despite his discomfort. He was afraid if he did, he’d lose what they had right now.
Liam wasn’t sure he could precisely define what that was. It was comfortable to have Tory around. More than that, of course. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this alive. It wasn’t an off-balance, breathless sensation, though, like he’d had in the past when he was falling for a pretty girl. This was different.
Deeper, somehow, even though mostly all they’d done was talk.
He’d begun to feel like he knew Tory. He’d already learned she was a night owl, liked her coffee black, ate a huge breakfast in the morning and nibbled through the rest
of the day. She was groggy and grumbly first thing when she woke up but lively and chatty the rest of the time. She appreciated their surroundings and cleaned their campsite assiduously after every meal.
She was the practical, thoughtful kind of woman he’d always hoped to meet. It was ironic she’d lived next door half his life.
“What?” she asked now, catching him watching her.
“Nothing.” He led her around the lodge to the back and took her up a set of steps to a wide balcony that overlooked the forest side of the property.
“Who would sit back here when they could sit out front and look at the lake?” Tory asked.
“I think the main idea is that it’s like a walkway around the house at this level. See there?” He pointed to where there was a funny kind of break in the railing around the deck, like a gate of some kind. It had confused him when he’d first come exploring. There were several of them, and in each case if you opened the gate, you’d simply fall off the balcony and hit the ground some ten feet down.
It had taken several trips out here before he noticed each of the gates on the lodge balcony was set opposite to a gate in the railings around one of the treehouses.
He pointed that out to Tory. “I think there must have been catwalks joining each of them to the lodge. See?”
“That must have been so cool,” Tory exclaimed. “Where did they go?”
“I bet they detach and got put away every winter. They’d deteriorate fast in the snow.”
“I wonder where they are now?”
“I don’t know, but check this out.”
The front of the lodge faced the beach and lake. In back the balcony wrapped around and faced the forest, although he knew there were fields and greenhouses not far away. But there was one more strange feature. A cable system that connected to a strong post near the back of the lodge. The post was cemented firmly into the ground below, ran right through the deck and up another ten feet or so. The cable ran from it out into the forest to connect to a colossal pine tree several hundred yards away.