Chapter 4
Chapter Four
FORREST
“ Y ou’re here inquiring after box number 42001?” she asked.
Sterling stood. “We are,” she confirmed.
I shifted my gaze from Sterling to the woman in front of me and held out my hand. “Forrest Powell,” I said, and to my surprise, her eyes lit up, her fingers closing around mine in a tight squeeze.
“I should have known,” she said. “You have the look of your father, except for that hair. That you got from your mother. I’m Madelyn Grady.”
I smiled back at her, searching my memory for her face. “I’m sorry, I don’t?—”
“Oh, no, the last time you saw me, you were in short pants. But I knew your parents well. It’s wonderful to see you all grown up. Alan said one day you’d come for the box.” Her smile faded as her gaze shifted to Sterling. “Unfortunately,” she continued, “we can’t go any farther. Alan stipulated that only family is permitted, I’m afraid.”
But it was my day for surprises. Sterling turned to me, her left hand raising to rest on my shoulder. I took in the diamond flashing on her ring finger and had only a second to wonder what the hell she was up to before she gave Madelyn Grady a blinding smile and said, “I’m his fiancée, Sterling Sawyer.”
Sterling leaned back to hold out her right hand, startling Mrs. Grady into a friendly handshake. Then she turned back to me, rose up on her toes, and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of my jaw. My brain froze. It was as if every dream I had came true in an explosion of congratulations and happy smiles and the fresh memory of Sterling’s kiss.
Reality slammed back into me a second later, the dream slipping away as Sterling slid from my arms. I realized at once I could play a part as well as she could. Turning my head, I brushed my lips over hers, my arm winding around her waist, holding her against me, drawing in her surprised gasp.
She melted against me, her lips so soft under mine. For a moment, I forgot entirely where we were and what was at stake. For those few seconds, she was my girl again, and I had everything I wanted.
Then Sterling stepped back and turned a perfectly composed smile to Mrs. Grady. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Sometimes we get a little carried away.”
Mrs. Grady’s eyes were misty, an affectionate smile on her face. “Oh, how wonderful. I think a fiancée counts as family.”
Sterling flashed the same smug smile she’d had earlier my way before we turned to follow Mrs. Grady to a door at the far end of the bank lobby. My brain was stuck on that kiss and the ring on her finger. Had she known we’d need to pretend to be engaged? Was that why she wore a diamond on her ring finger? She didn’t usually wear diamond rings at all, much less on that specific finger.
We followed Mrs. Grady up a wide, carpeted staircase with a polished oak banister. “I’m afraid I can’t personally give you access to the box,” she said. “But Mr. Webber, the bank president, can help you.”
Behind Mrs. Grady’s back, I raised an eyebrow at Sterling. That smug curl of her lips didn’t change. If she hadn’t been expecting a meeting with the bank president, it wasn’t a surprise either. I hadn’t been positive she’d get us this far. But as much as I wasn’t sure I wanted to face what was in that box, my curiosity was almost rabid.
Mrs. Grady led us down a hall to a set of solid oak double doors. Knocking twice, she waited until a voice said, “Enter,” before she swung the door open and waved us inside.
“Mr. Webber, I have Forrest Powell and his fiancée, Sterling Sawyer, to see you.” She withdrew and closed the door, leaving us with a man who looked like he was the age my father would be if he were still alive.
He stood, coming around the side of the desk, his hand extended to me. Mr. Webber, first name unknown, had a stocky build, broad-shouldered, seeming taller than he was. His iron-dark hair was threaded liberally with silver. His sharp eyes narrowed as he scanned me for a beat before his face broke out into a smile.
I wasn’t surprised to hear him say as he crossed the room, “I knew your father well. He was a good man. It’s a shame what happened.” He took my hand and gave it a vigorous shake. “I’ve been looking forward to this day. Alan always thought he’d be here with you, but instead…” He released my hand. His expression chilled as he looked at Sterling. “Sterling Sawyer?” he asked, with the raise of an eyebrow.
She held out her hand as she nodded. “Yes, I’m Sterling Sawyer. It’s good to meet you, Mr. Webber.”
“Prentice Sawyer’s daughter?” he asked, releasing her hand.
“Unfortunately,” she answered, lifting her chin, her eyes level on his. “You knew my father?”
“I did. I’m also aware of how Alan Buckley knew your father.”
With that, I understood everything. This man knew what had happened, how Prentice Sawyer had stolen my father’s business and the statue, driving my father to take his own life. To anyone who knew the truth, the idea of Alan Buckley’s son marrying a Sawyer was incomprehensible.
Before I could jump in to defend Sterling, she shook her head, her eyebrows drawn together. She could play a part, but the regret in her eyes wasn’t an act. “I only recently learned the extent of Prentice’s relationship with Forrest’s father. I’m sorry to say I wasn’t surprised to learn the full truth.” She sighed. “My father was not a good man.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Mr. Webber agreed. “So, how did this happen?” He looked between the two of us, his gaze landing on me.
I’d messed up my life enough with lies. Except for Sterling’s fake engagement story, I wasn’t going to lie to Mr. Webber. “I went to Sawyers Bend looking for revenge,” I said. “Instead, I found Sterling, and I learned that Prentice’s children are nothing like their father.”
Mr. Webber gave a gruff nod. “Can’t say I know many people who miss Prentice Sawyer, but the things I’ve heard about his son, Griffen… He seems to be the apple that fell very far from the tree.”
As well as I had come to know Tenn and Royal, I was glad to hear that the Sawyers’ reputations were changing. Sometimes, death wasn’t enough to clean the slate, but in the short year and a half since Prentice had died, Griffen had begun to show the world a different kind of Sawyer.
Stepping back, Mr. Webber gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. We followed his cue and sat, Sterling setting her navy purse on her knees, the ring on her finger bright against the dark fabric. Where had she gotten it? Did she borrow it from one of her sisters? I didn’t think so. It wasn’t a small stone, but it was plain. Boring. Not a ring I would have bought her.
It didn’t matter. We weren’t engaged. This was all an act, and I was getting distracted. I leaned back, resting my ankle on my knee, and continued where we’d left off. “I’ve been the CFO for the Inn at Sawyers Bend for the last year. I work with Royal and Tenn Sawyer every day, and I can tell you they’re nothing like Prentice. And if he were still alive, I know my father would love Sterling as much as I do.”
“You and your mother went back to her maiden name after she left town?” Mr. Webber probed.
I nodded. Clearing my throat, I said, “She wanted a fresh start. I thought about changing it back after I turned eighteen, but—” I searched for the words that might explain why I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it. “My mother has been through a lot. She’s happy now. Finally remarried to a nice guy. I don’t want to bring back painful memories.”
Mr. Webber seemed to understand, giving a slow nod as he sat back, ruminating. Sterling reached out to take my hand in hers. It was part of the act, though I wanted to think it wasn’t. I wanted to think she hadn’t even realized she’d reached out to me.
Mr. Webber didn’t miss the gesture. Maybe it was that, or maybe he’d come to his own conclusion. “Alan said you’d come for the box, and when you did, I should ask you for the key.”
His language threw me. Not Do you have your key? But I should ask you for the key.
I didn’t understand.
Sterling did.
Her fingers closed tight around mine in a quick squeeze. Leaning forward, she said, “The key is Buck.”
The sound of my childhood nickname sliced through me. My father, far more traditional than my slightly hippie mother, had hated the name Forrest. Sometimes, I thought they must have been a bad match from the start, though I remembered lots of laughter along with the arguments. My father had refused to call me Forrest and instead called me Buck, a shortened version of his last name my grandfather had also used.
Mr. Webber gave Sterling a wide smile. “Well done,” he said with a nod. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.” He rose from his chair and pushed open a door hidden in the paneling beside his desk.
“How did you—” I started to ask, and then I remembered the deciphered code she’d shown me the night before. KCUB. Buck spelled backward.
Sterling shrugged a shoulder. “I wouldn’t have gotten it so easily, except I had to reverse the key to break the code. It made sense that he might have reversed something in the answer itself.”
“How did you know about Buck?”
Her eyes went ice-cold, the vibrant blue shade suddenly glacial. “You told us last year when we found out who you really are.”
I wished I hadn’t asked. I hated thinking about that day. Seeing the pain on her face as I’d explained my lies had been agonizing. Until then, I’d held out hope that I could talk my way out of it. That day at Heartstone, I’d realized I hadn’t just made a mistake. I’d royally fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to me.
“Clever,” I said, glad to see the cold melt from her gaze at the praise.
“I wasn’t sure,” she admitted in a low voice, “But I thought it was worth a try.”
“I’d say,” I agreed.
The panel door swung open, and Sterling straightened, electricity running through her body, her eyes glued to the rectangular metal box Mr. Webber held in his hands.
My heart sank.
This was it. She’d cracked the code, and now we had the box. Our time together was going to end.
The box was too small to hold much cash, but my father wouldn’t have kept the money in cash anyway. Would it be an account number with passwords? Stock certificates? I was finally going to recover my father’s mythical lost fortune, and I was going to lose Sterling all over again. She’d get her twenty-five percent, and she’d walk.
At that moment, I knew I’d been telling the truth when I said I didn’t care about the money. Sitting there, watching Sterling track the progress of that metal box across the room, knowing she hoped it was the answer to her empty bank account… All I felt was loss.
I’d had her back, talking to me, smiling at me, touching me, for less than twenty-four hours. I couldn’t let her go. Not a second time.
I didn’t want the money. If I thought it would keep her with me, I’d give her every penny.
But I couldn’t buy love. Especially not Sterling’s.
With every step Mr. Webber took, the box drew closer. Sterling’s anticipation rose right along with my dread. I wasn’t ready to let her walk away, and I couldn’t stop her. I needed more time. Time for her to remember what we’d had, to see that everything we were together was still there. If she could just forgive me…
But it had been a year, and she still hadn’t forgiven me. She probably never would.
Letting out a breath, I watched as Mr. Webber set the box down on the edge of his desk and opened the lid. Steeling my heart, I looked inside. There was nothing but a single index card, like the kind I’d used to make flashcards in grade school.
The lined side of the card was facing up. In my father’s precise, printed writing, I saw the phrase, A mockingbird on my shoulder, singing with my strings in the Poplars.
Beneath was another long alphanumeric code.
“What?” Sterling breathed, reaching out to pick up the card. She flipped it back and forth, then leaned forward to check the box for anything else. There was nothing. Squinting down at the card, she said, “It’s another code.”
Mr. Webber’s hand came down on my shoulder. He squeezed, then gave a fatherly pat and said, “Good luck, Forrest. If that’s what I think it is, you’re going to need all the luck you can get.”