“She won’t be here until later this afternoon. Sadie is going to pick her up at the airport.”
“I guess Mat is going to stop by at the Lodge before coming with us to your house tonight.”
A tremor passed through her, this time for non-erotic reasons. “Mat has been invited? Oh my God. Z, what does it mean?”
“Beats me.”
She sighed. “It’ll be good to see Mat, anyway. I was going to call him about the project. Now I’ll be able to talk to him in person.”
“What project?” Z asked, his gaze narrowing on her.
“For the residential respite,” she said smiling. He just continued to stare at her dubiously. Her heart fluttered anxiously in her chest. She’d been mentally practicing telling him the news. But now that she was face to face with him, her rehearsed explanation vanished. “The facility I’ve always talked about building and running? You know. The one for young adults? A refuge, for vulnerable young people who need a safe place to get their lives back on track? I’ve talked about it since I was a little girl.”
“Why do you need to talk to Mat about that?”
“Because I’m going to ask him to build it for me. Who better? You know what a talented architect he is.”
Z gave a soft bark of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, confused.
“You make it sound like you’re planning on building it tomorrow.”
“I do,” she told him breathlessly.
He looked taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“Mom and Stephen aren’t the only ones with news this Christmas. I mean…I’m not telling everyone yet. Just you and Mat,” she said nervously. “See…I’ve spoken with a lawyer and a realtor, plus hired a consultant from Child Welfare Services and the Administration for Children and Family. I’m ready, Z. To get started. I have the advisors I need, and I have all the money, thanks to the trust Dad left me.”
She waited, her heart stuck in her throat. She’d wanted to tell him about it for two months now, but had never felt confident enough to do it. Maybe she’d been reluctant because of where she wanted to build the group home.
Z shook his head, as if to clear it. “You plan on building this home now?”
“Well, not this very second,” she said, laughing. “It’ll probably be six months to a year before we can even break ground. But I’d like to get things rolling. That’s why I’m happy I’ll be able to talk to Mat tonight in person. Hopefully, he’s not too busy to design the facility. I have a lot of ideas about other buildings on the property, like for vocational training, a small clinic, maybe even some stables. Animals can be very therapeutic.”
Z’s hands slid off her waist. A chill went threw at the loss of his warmth.
“You couldn’t have told me about this before now?”
Her breath froze in her lungs at the coldness of his tone. “It hasn’t been the right time until now. You know I’ve been really busy planning the Holiday Thrift Store fundraiser at the hospital. And I wasn’t completely positive things were a ‘go’ for the respite facility before yesterday morning. The consultant I hired to help me with state regulations and requirements just got me a final report. Now that things have fallen into place, I don’t see any reason to delay, when it’s been something I’ve wanted to do my whole life.”
His eyebrows slanted. He looked stunned. Angry.
Oh no. She wasn’t telling the news well at all.
“What about us?”
“Us?” she asked in a high-pitched voice. “What…what do you mean?”
“I assume you plan to build the home in the Reno area?”
“I don’t—”
He stood abruptly, forcing her to take a step back. He towered over her, looking furious.
“I own a business in Columbia,” he seethed, blue eyes blazing. With a sinking feeling, she realized he wasn’t just angry. He was hurt by her news. “I can’t just pack up my business and move it, Ursa. I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you’re just springing this on me.”
“I’m sorry. I am, really. But there had to be a first time that I told you, Z! I mean, you’ve known I wanted to do this nearly my whole life. Did you think I was just fantasizing?”
“No, but you always used to say you wanted to make it all happen before you were thirty. You have seven and a half years to go, Ursa.”
“But why should I wait, when I’m ready now?”
“Did you ever stop to consider that I might not be ready? Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I would have at least wanted a little warning about the fact that you plan to open your lifelong dream—a dream that will fix you in this area for decades to come—a couple hundred miles from where I live.”
She shook her head, eager to correct him. “It’s not my first choice to open the facility in the Reno area,” she blurted out, taking a step toward him and placing her hands on his chest. “I asked the realtor to look for land near Columbia, as well.”
He looked like she’d clobbered him.
“I mean…I was thinking about it, anyway. I wanted to talk to you about it first, of course,” she hedged, her anxiety growing by the second.
His stiff expression didn’t shift. A pain pinched tight in her chest. Oh no. This can’t be happening. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. The idea of her opening the group home near him had made him even more upset and stunned than the idea of her opening it a four hour drive away from him.
Ursa acknowledged the horrible truth. She’d been right to be nervous about broaching the topic with him. She’d played her hand poorly. It couldn’t be clearer that Z felt trapped by her news. He wasn’t prepared. No. From his shocked, numb expression, Ursa would have to say that he wasn’t ready at all to hear that she was considering moving to be near him.
“For God’s sake, Z,” she said brokenly. It was all that got out of her throat before it seemingly closed up. Suddenly, it was too much. She felt like she was suffocating. She turned and started to climb up the boulders.
“Ursa.”
He caught her foot. She slipped. He cursed, using both hands to steady her from falling. As soon as she’d found her footing, she resumed her escape.
“Ursa,” he called again bitterly. But she kept moving, wild to get away from that shocked, cornered expression she’d seen on his face just now.
Chapter Thirty-One
The evening of the revelation of the Big Secret arrived, but Ursa was focused on something else. Someone else. She’d never argued with herself more severely, or identified so completely with both sides of the argument in her head.
After dinner and the meeting are over, I’ll confront Z. I’ll set the record straight. I’ll tell him that I didn’t mean I was definitely going to build the home near Columbia, only that I wanted to talk about the idea with him.
And on the other hand:
Screw Z Beckett. So what if I didn’t present the whole idea perfectly to him? It’s not my fault he’s a commitment-phobe who immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. If he was so worried about being trapped by a woman, let him stew in his glorious, solitary, man-juices. He’s the only one that can figure things out. I’m not apologizing for anything.
That night, she’d never missed her father more, watching as the entire Bear Clan arrived, her father being the glaring exception. They all ate a casual dinner in the family room, everyone chatting and catching up on what was happening in each other’s lives.
She and Z were the exception. They carefully avoided each other.
True, he’d tried to call her once, and texted twice this afternoon. But every time he’d tried to contact her, Ursa had envisioned his shocked, cornered expression when they were together at the boulder cave. Besides, whatever he’d wanted to say to her this afternoon, he’d clearly changed his mind about it by that evening. She recognized that angry tilt to his profile eve
ry time she glanced in his direction.
She’d had no idea before, how horrible it would feel to love someone so much that it hurt, and to realize that he felt trapped by that love. Every time she thought of it, she felt that pinching pain in her chest.
Even though she averted her gaze from him all evening, she was hyperaware of where he was in the Esterbrook family room, what he was doing, and whom he was doing it with.
She suspected Z was just as determined to ignore her, because he seemed especially carefree and chatty with her sister Esme before and during dinner. Something told Ursa that his determined jovial mood was about as brittle and transparent as Ursa’s calm one, however. Esme seemed just as ebullient as Z tonight, so the two of them were the most cheerful of the whole group. Z and Esme had been good friends for a long time, so Ursa wasn’t jealous of their camaraderie, necessarily.
Or maybe she was. She’d give anything to be as easy and unselfconscious with Z as Esme was.
After Ursa had finished a bowl of her mother’s delicious beef, vegetable, and barley soup, she saw Mat DaRosa returning from the kitchen. Before he could return to his seat on the couch next to Jude and Sadie, she hurried to intercept him for a private conversation. If she could get Mat interested in building the facility, at least the whole evening wouldn’t be entirely a miserable bust.
“So you’ll consider doing it, then?” Ursa asked Mat five minutes later.
She’d pulled Mat over into a corner of the living room for the discussion. She’d been surprised, and a little humbled, at how quickly he’d agreed to set up a meeting with her to come up with design ideas for the respite facility.
“Of course,” Mat said, shrugging. “You’ve wanted to open a place like this for as long as I can remember. I’d be honored to be a part of it. It’s a project I can feel good about. I’ve been working too much with greedy bastards and self-centered billionaires lately. I need a nonprofit project to stay balanced. Keep me human.” His striking eyes gleamed with humor.
“Oh, it won’t be a nonprofit project for you,” Ursa hurried to assure him. “I’ll pay you whatever your going rate is.”
“Are you denying me an opportunity to keep my soul intact?”
“No, of course not, I just—”
Mat laughed and cupped her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. Behind her, she heard Z curse and strained to ignore it. He must have misfired a pinecone. Esme and Z played a friendly, but hotly contested game of pinecone-in-the-hole, a game they’d made up as kids that was similar to cornhole, but played with pinecones.
“I’m just kidding, Ursa,” Mat was saying. “I meant it when I said I’d be honored to be a part of your project. And I’d like to contribute to it. Not just work for it. It’ll be nice, to get some gratification from the labor. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“I’m the one who’s honored,” Ursa told him sincerely. “Everyone knows how in demand you are as an architect.”
“So we’ll meet the Monday after New Years?”
“At your office in Tahoe City, right? I’ll be there.”
“Oh, and I forgot to say that Shelly and I got together a couple of bags to donate for the hospital fundraiser tomorrow. She and her friend Cecelia will drop them by in the morning,” Mat said.
“That’s great. But…where is Shelly? I thought Mom said she was coming tonight.”
She saw the shadow that crossed Mat’s handsome face, like the dropping of an opaque veil. She’d seen it before, many times. Mat clearly didn’t like talking about his marriage. What’s more, all the Esterbrooks and the Becketts were left with the distinct impression over the years that if Shelly’d had it her way, Mat would have dropped his old, close relationship with the Bear Clan long ago.
A feeling of sad helplessness went through Ursa. No matter how strong and confident Mat appeared, he wasn’t happy in his private life. And there didn’t appear to be anything any of them could do to help him.
“Shelly’s not feeling well tonight. But it’s nothing serious,” Mat said. “I’m sure she’ll make the fundraiser tomorrow with the donation.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Ursa assured. She opened her mouth to say something else about Shelly, to try and broach the uncomfortable topic. But something about Mat’s hard, closed off expression stopped her in her tracks. “Thank you again. You’re the best friend, Mat,” she said feelingly, going up on her toes and giving him a kiss on his whiskered jaw.
When she turned around, she saw that Z pinned her with his stare; she glanced away, feeling burned by it. She went and sat down on the couch next to her mom, both unsettled and gratified to note that Z’s attitude hardly seemed breezy anymore.
After Ilsa and Stephen served everyone coffee and oatmeal cookies, her mom stood in front of the fireplace. Stephen cleared his throat to get their attention. The moment of truth at last, Ursa thought. Despite her nervousness—or maybe because of it—she found herself seeking out Z in the room. He’d taken a seat in a leather chair. His long legs were bent in front of him, his elbows resting on his thighs, his manner tense, like a warrior’s before battle. He wasn’t looking at Ursa this time. Instead, he stared at her mom with an intimidating frown on his face.
For some reason, a frisson of foreboding and dread went through her when she saw Z’s expression.
“Okay,” her mom began, sounding breathless. “We’re thrilled that you all could come tonight, for so many reasons. All of which will become clear soon, I hope.” She held out her hand. Stephen stood and went to stand by her side, taking her outstretched hand in his own. Ursa blinked in rising amazement at the intimate gesture between them.
“Stephen is going to talk first. This part of the news is his story. His and Grandpa Joe’s,” her mom said.
Ursa noticed that Grandpa Joe stared up at Stephen fixedly. Are those tears in Joe’s eyes? Oh my God. What’s happening? Panic started to build in Ursa. Is it Grandpa Joe? What if he’s terminally ill or something?
Stephen squeezed the older man’s shoulder gently, as if to reassure him. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but when he spoke, Stephen sounded like the confident man Ursa had always known and loved, the man who had ushered her into this world with calm skill, despite the crazy, chaotic circumstances.
“As most of you know, I was an only child, brought up by my parents in San Jose,” Stephen began. “When I was twenty-one and in the Army, and I was about to be sent to Afghanistan as a medic, my mother told me she wanted to have an important conversation with me. What she told me that afternoon changed my life forever.”
Ursa glanced around the room at everyone else. They all appeared to be as confused as she was as to why Stephen was telling this personal story…and why he kept holding her mom’s hand so familiarly while he did it.
“My mother told me that when she was a young woman,” Stephen continued, “she’d worked as an administrative assistant to a powerful businessman in San Francisco, the president and owner of a privately held fund. He was a widow. Despite the differences in their backgrounds and cultures, and the fact that she was in his employ, my mother and this man formed a special bond. She told me that she fell deeply in love with him. And he loved her, in return.”
At this point, Grandpa Joe dropped his head in a mournful gesture. Sensing Joe’s sadness, even though she didn’t quite comprehend the source of it yet, Ursa’s throat tightened in compassion for him. Stephen squeezed his shoulder again, as if to reassure him. Unable to stop herself, she glanced at Z to see how he was reacting to this strange, unfolding moment. He’d been looking fixedly at Stephen and his grandfather, but just as her gaze landed on him, his stare shot over to her. Ursa’s anxiety intensified when she saw his palpable tension and anxiety.
“Despite this earth-moving thing that happened between this man and my mother, my mom was married,” Stephen said. “Not unhappily so. She cared very deeply for my father—for the man I al
ways believed to be my natural father. Because when I was twenty-one, and about to be shipped out for duty, that’s the truth my mother told me: that the man I’d thought was my dad for all those years wasn’t my biological father. Doug Jackson—my dad—and she hadn’t been able to conceive a child for years, despite desperately wanting one. When she became pregnant with me, my father was elated. But my mom knew it wasn’t his child. She knew she was pregnant with her lover’s baby. It became clear to her the enormity of what she’d done by having this affair and falling in love with another man. Stricken by guilt for her infidelity—she came from a very strict Catholic background—she left her lover’s employ and vowed to never see him again.
“Well, as you may have guessed by now, the man whom my mother fell in love with was Joseph Beckett. And I’m his biological son.”
For a few seconds, a stunned silence reigned in the family room, broken only by the crackle of the flames in the fireplace. Ursa stared open-mouthed, first at Stephen and Joe, and then at Z and Jude. Stephen was Z’s uncle. Stephen was a Beckett. Shivers poured down her body. What was worse, she could tell by Z’s flattened expression he hadn’t been expecting this. He might have been expecting something that was causing him anxiety, but not this.
“But how—”
“And why,” Jude interrupted Z sharply. “Why didn’t you tell us you were our uncle? Why didn’t you say anything, during all these years?”
“It was Stephen’s mother’s wish,” Grandpa Joe replied. “She didn’t want the truth to be generally known while her husband was still alive. But Doug passed away six months ago. Maria—Stephen’s mother—recently gave Stephen leave to reveal his parentage, if it was something he chose to do.”
“But you’ve known he was your son? Since the beginning?” Z demanded.
“Yes,” Grandpa Joe answered calmly, despite Z’s accusatory tone. “When Maria told Stephen the truth, she didn’t expect that Stephen would look for me after he returned from his tour of duty. But he did. He sought me out,” Joe said, glancing up at Stephen. “And I’m eternally grateful for that. By that time, I’d had my accident and lost the use of my legs. I’d been put out to pasture by your father and Beckett Enterprises, sent here to Beckett Lodge, even though my mind was as sharp as ever. I was given Beckett Lodge and told to use it to ‘recuperate’ even though your father knew perfectly well that my spinal cord had been damaged, and I would never walk again. Your dad rarely came to visit, and even more rarely allowed me to see either you or Zev,” he said directly to his grandsons. “I felt as if I’d lost everything…everyone in my life.”
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