Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
STERLING
I wasn’t usually the first one at dinner. Most often, that was Parker, accompanied by Nash unless he was out of town for business. But for the past few days, the lightness I’d felt immediately after talking to Hawk had faded. Now that the possibility that I could forgive Forrest had been introduced, I’d been restless, my mind shifting from my conversation with Hawk to the cipher in the peppermint tin to Forrest. Mostly to Forrest. I didn’t want to think about Forrest. Hadn’t I spent enough time thinking about him?
I couldn’t settle. Instead, I ping-ponged around the house. My room felt too small. The family gathering room too big. The outdoors too hot and sunny. I’d helped Quinn with a canoeing trip that morning, finished up some paperwork at Sawyer Outdoor Adventures, and came home to stare at the cipher again. Not that this time was different than the other million times I’d studied it. I was missing something, and I didn’t have the slightest idea what it was. I wasn’t ready to ask for help yet. I would, if it came to that, but I was still stuck on the stare at it and hope something makes sense approach.
I ended up on the first floor, on my way to nowhere, and heard Savannah in the dining room setting the table. With nothing else to do, I stopped in to help her.
“Sterling, I’ve got it,” she protested with a smile, her strawberry curls escaping her neat braid, welcome in her gray eyes.
I grabbed the silverware anyway. “I know,” I said, “but I’m bored and annoyed with myself.”
“Haven’t cracked the code yet, huh?” she asked.
There were no secrets in Heartstone Manor, especially not from Savannah, our all-knowing, all-powerful housekeeper. She was only a few years older than me, but it felt like there was a lifetime between us. Savannah was one of the most capable people I knew. She made running Heartstone Manor look easy, but I’d grown up there. I understood how much it took to keep the place going, especially with a skeleton staff. Until we found my father’s killer, we were living under high security. Too high to risk the kind of staff Savannah really needed. But even with all those restrictions, she made it look easy, and I was continually impressed with her. There wasn’t much she couldn’t do.
As suddenly as the thought came to life, I realized as capable as she was, she probably couldn’t crack Alan Buckley’s codes. I might not be as competent and capable as Savannah, but I wasn’t useless either. I had skills. I was smart. I thought of my coding classes and Hawk calling me brave.
I watched Savannah lay the silverware on the table, her brows furrowed as she adjusted the place setting just so. She’d married my brother Finn a few months before. Technically, we were sisters now. But before that, she’d been a widow and a single mother. I’d never seen her shy away from a challenge. In my mind, Savannah was one of the bravest women I knew.
“Should I give Forrest another chance?” I asked into the quiet room.
Savannah looked up from the place setting, her eyebrows raised and her gray eyes serious. “I don’t know,” she said. “Do you want to give Forrest another chance?”
I didn’t know what I wanted. That was why I was asking Savannah. No, that wasn’t true—I did know what I wanted. I was just afraid of it. And I realized it wasn’t just that I was terrified of the pain of a broken heart. I also didn’t want to be a fool, not again, not after I’d felt so stupid when Forrest had confessed he’d lied about who he was. With that realization settling into place, I rephrased my question.
“Would you think I was stupid if I gave Forrest another chance?” I asked, my stomach unsettled a little at my need for her approval. Savannah had never taken any shit from me, even when I was at my worst. But she’d been one of the first people to reach out a hand and help me up when I decided I wanted to be better.
“No,” she answered immediately. “I wouldn’t. And that’s not me telling you what I think you should do,” she said, turning to straighten the plate she’d set down. “I can’t answer if you should give him another chance. That’s something only you know.”
“Why wouldn’t you think I was stupid if I got back together with him?” I pressed. “He lied to me. He lied to all of us.”
Savannah nodded. “I know. And while I understand him lying to the rest of us, lying to you is harder to forgive. He betrayed your trust.”
“I think I forgive him,” I admitted, “but I’m afraid to trust him. I’m afraid to trust myself. I don’t want to mess up again.”
Savannah gave me a gentle smile and closed the space between us, pulling me into her arms for a tight hug. Slowly letting me go, she said, “Sterling, you need to give yourself more credit. You have a good heart and a sharp brain. Between the two, I know you’ll figure out what you need.”
Savannah’s compliment filled my heart as that restless thing inside me finally settled. Other people might be nice to placate me, but not Savannah. She’d once handed me a spray bottle of tile cleaner and a rag after I’d gotten sick in my bathroom, telling me her staff didn’t get paid to clean up after spoiled children who didn’t know when enough was enough. Then she came back to check my work, armed with a fresh rag. With a shake of her head, she’d handed me the second rag and told me to try again. She’d pitied me, but she’d forced me to scrub every tile.
Not long after that, I’d stopped drinking. These days, I had a glass of wine with dinner occasionally, but that was it. I didn’t want to be pitied, and scrubbing my puke got old fast. But Savannah didn’t pity me now. She sounded like she admired me, and that felt pretty fucking good.
“What I need?” I echoed. “Don’t you mean what I want?”
Savannah shook her head. “Maybe. But I don’t think this is about what you want. I think you know what you want. I think you have to figure out what you need.”
“I’m not sure I know the difference,” I said slowly.
“I can’t tell you what I think you should do because I don’t know. I’m not you. But I can tell you that when I was falling in love with your brother, it turned me inside out,” she said quietly, her voice pitched low so no one wandering by could overhear. “I didn’t want to be in love with anybody, especially not Finn. He was complicated, and I felt like I’d just gotten my life together. I didn’t want to take a risk again. I was scared.”
“And?” I asked, setting out the silverware following her example, caught by the idea that Finn hadn’t instantly won over Savannah. I’d seen them bicker often enough—the whole house had—but I’d assumed it was mostly foreplay. I’d only seen their courtship from the outside—the sparks and drama, then both of them blissfully happy. It had never occurred to me that Savannah might be scared of anything, much less Finn.
“I was flat-out terrified,” she confessed, smiling at the memory.
“What changed your mind?” I asked.
“A lot of things,” she replied. “Finn, being the easiest answer—just Finn. I knew there was no one who would take better care of my heart than him, that he would never give up or walk out on me. But it wasn’t just about Finn. It was about how I felt when I was with him. I was safe enough to have an adventure. With Finn, I’m the Savannah I want to be. The best version of myself. Does that make sense? I don’t have to diminish my dreams to fit his. I don’t have to be less for him to be more. And for me, that was what I needed. I don’t know what you need, Sterling. Only you know that, and only you know if Forrest has it inside him.”
I dropped my gaze to stare at the beautifully set table, letting Savannah’s words settle. “And what if he does have what I need? Then what do I do with him?” I asked, thinking of the way Forrest had reacted to me breaking his father’s code, intended for him. He hadn’t been jealous or annoyed. He’d admired and encouraged me. Never once had Forrest made me feel less.
I jumped a little as Savannah’s arm wrapped around my waist in a quick side hug.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said on her way out of the room.
Hawk and Savannah were a lot more confident in my emotional maturity than I was. Didn’t they remember the mess I’d been when Prentice died and everyone came home? Unemployed, mooching off my father, drunk more than I was sober. That girl was me just as much as the person I was now. I’d fixed my life, mostly, and managed to maintain the improvements for over a year. I had a job, paid my bills, and was acing my classes. But hot mess Sterling was still inside me. How was I supposed to trust her with my future? With my heart? No way.
I sank into my chair at the table in the empty dining room, crossed my arms over my chest, and closed my eyes, letting my mind drift to that peppermint tin. As impossible as this new cipher was, it still made more sense than the emotional hurricane inside me. I pictured the patterns on the card inside the tin, the lines and shapes pulsing in my head, arranging and rearranging themselves. Nothing made sense. I was missing something.
I needed the key. So far, every cipher had a key or a clue to a key. Where was the key for this one? No matter how much I turned the code over in my head, I couldn’t work it out. But it still felt more productive than continuing to obsess over Forrest Powell.
My family started to trickle into the dining room. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to nap. If the key wasn’t in the peppermint tin, where was it? Had we missed some clue in the boathouse? Had the key been destroyed when the Murrells renovated? I couldn’t figure it out. Probably because my head kept drifting back to Forrest. So far, the clues had been connected to his family, his father, and his childhood. To him. Did he have the code in some buried memory and didn’t realize it? Or in something his father had given him?
Yeah, and maybe I just wanted to call Forrest and was looking for an excuse so I didn’t have to admit to myself how much I wanted to see him. And how much that want had nothing to do with the cipher. I wanted to be with him. To talk to him. To watch a movie with him, to strip him naked and— Damn it!
I could just call him. Maybe we could go out and get a drink. Or an ice cream. Why was it so hard to admit to myself that I missed him? That I wanted to be with him?
Across the room, I heard my sister Avery shout, “Quinn! Oh my God! Quinn, let me see!”
I looked up to see Quinn holding out her hand, light glinting off the diamond on her ring finger. Avery’s dark eyes were wide with excitement. Hawk stood behind both of them, arms crossed, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face as he watched Quinn. His eyes were glowing with love. Damn, I liked seeing that. They both deserved this happiness so much.
I rose and rounded the table, sending Hawk a wink before grabbing Quinn’s hand myself and admiring the ring. “Quinn, it’s gorgeous,” I whispered, pulling her into a tight hug and rocking her from side to side.
“Hawk said you’d do all the planning,” she said, raising her eyebrows in question.
“If you want me to, absolutely,” I said, and Quinn laughed, her dark hair sliding back off her shoulders, her face radiant.
“I want to be married to Hawk, and I want a beautiful wedding. But I don’t want to have to figure out the wedding part.”
“I’ve got you,” I said, giving her another hug. “I already have ideas.”
“I knew you would,” Quinn said, her eyes falling to the diamond on her hand.
Then Hope was there with baby Stella in her arms. “Let me see,” she insisted, and I slid out of the way, drifting back to my seat. Griffen called for champagne, dragging Savannah and Finn up from the kitchens to help celebrate Quinn’s engagement.
I watched all the happy couples in the room and felt the absence at my side, not of a partner but of Forrest, specifically. He could have been here, celebrating with us, if I wasn’t such a stubborn ass. I shook the thought away. Not that long ago, I hadn’t even been speaking to him. One thing at a time. I was pretty sure Forrest was what I wanted. Now, I had to figure out if he was what I needed.
I let out a sigh, and my wandering gaze snagged on the two people who didn’t look overwhelmed with joy for the newly engaged couple: Brax and Ford. They sat at the end of the table across from each other, neither of them smiling. Brax looked annoyed. Bitter, maybe? Hard to tell. I made a point of not knowing him, which meant I couldn’t read his face well enough to tell if he was irritated by the delay of dinner, didn’t like Hawk, or was pissed off about something else entirely. His eyes, so like my own and Quinn’s, were brittle and squinty as he stared at Hawk, then Quinn. His gaze slid to meet mine, his mouth twisting in a cold smile that sent a chill down my spine. I gritted my teeth against a shiver. I was not going to give Brax the satisfaction of seeing he’d gotten under my skin. Even if he had.
Ford didn’t notice Brax’s creepy smile. He didn’t seem to notice much of anything going on around him. He was right here, in the dining room with us, but he looked as if he was a thousand miles away, his expression blank, eyes shuttered. Whatever was going on in his head, he wasn’t going to share with the rest of us.
We had champagne and toasted the happy couple. Sometime after dessert—a gorgeous cake that told me Hawk had tipped off Finn—Ford disappeared from the table. My eyes caught on Brax again. His jaw was set, his gaze dark as he glowered down at his cake, then raised a glance after Ford. He stood and slipped from the room.
Was he following Ford?