Chapter Fourteen
Autumn didn’t recognize the car parked near the house. Well, at least it wasn’t Dottie’s. She grabbed her small bag of groceries and headed inside.
“I’m home,” she called out, kicking off her boots, and hoped whoever was over might stick their head around the kitchen doorway.
The main living room was empty. She always loved that room with its high ceiling and stone fireplace that someone in her ancestry had built. When they had an influx of skiers on the mountain, that fireplace roared eighteen hours a day and the room was filled with people, laughing and getting warm with hot cocoa or hot toddies.
When she was a little girl, she would watch sometimes from upstairs when her parents thought she had gone to bed. Men and women dressed in cable-knit sweaters and ski boots had sat in the oversized chairs. For some reason, they all had looked like movie stars to her. She’d had plans for this place back then. She hadn’t planned on her father’s inability to stick around or her husband’s interest in gambling money that wasn’t his.
“Finally.” Vera peered around the wall. The color had returned to her cheeks, and her smile was bright. She had fussed with her hair, and gloss painted her lips.
Autumn didn’t want to go into the kitchen. She wanted to put her boots back on and go anywhere else. Vera only fussed for one person. And Autumn didn’t want to see him.
“Mom, look who’s here.” Quinn came around the corner, dragging Ives Thatcher with her. Quinn’s smile could light up the biggest Christmas tree.
Autumn hadn’t seen her father in almost a year. He had the sense to at least appear sheepish when Quinn introduced him. He had been her hero once. The tall man who could put her on his thin shoulders so she could see the floats in the town parade. He was always lanky, but he was strong and handsome. He also possessed charm in spades, charm he had spread around to as many women who would lap it up.
Ives was a con artist a lot like Markus Everett. Talk about almost marrying her father. Hell, she had married her father. Trent had tried to con the casinos. No one conquered that foe.
“Hi, honey,” Ives said.
“What are you doing here?” She hung her coat up by the door. She kissed Quinn on the side of her head, dodged her father’s outstretched hands, and began unloading the groceries.
The kitchen was warm, as if the oven had been on. A pile of fresh brownies were stacked on her mother’s best cake plate. Two mugs sat abandoned at the table.
She would not ask how long Ives had been sitting in her house. Instead, she would get dinner started. The sooner she found out what her father wanted now, the better. Because he had to want something. He only came around when he did. When life for Ives was going well, no one heard from him. After he said his piece, then she could quickly tell him no way and send him along.
If she knew her mother, though, Vera had probably asked him to stay for dinner and promised some huge, involved meal too. Vera always held out hope that her ex-husband would return to her. She never seemed to understand that Ives wasn’t someone who stuck around.
“Your mother invited me.” Ives tugged on the end of his sweater.
Her hand paused in midair. Her mother? She glanced at Vera, who busied herself with washing out the mugs.
“Mom, I’m going to run and do some homework. Will you call me when dinner is ready? You’re staying for dinner. Right, Grandpa?”
“If your mom says it’s okay.”
He didn’t miss a chance to make her the bad guy. “As long as we have enough.” Dinner would have to be pasta and jarred sauce. A pound of spaghetti could feed four. Or she could say she wasn’t hungry and make do with an egg. If she had one. She had never grabbed another carton after bumping into Jett and breaking the eggs in her basket.
“Perfect.” Vera clapped her hands.
Quinn skipped out of the room.
With her daughter out of earshot, she could investigate the reason for this unexpected—and for her, unwanted—visit. “Why are you really here, Ives? What did my mother promise you?” She stole another glance at Vera, who only stared back stone-faced. She couldn’t imagine what had possessed Vera to call Ives. Most of the time her mother verbalized her dislike for her ex-husband, but Autumn knew deep down that Vera held a torch for the man.
“Can’t a guy come and visit his family?” Ives did a shuffle in place. His body always seemed to move of its own volition. She chalked it up to nerves.
“You’re such a cynic, Autumn,” Vera said, pulling down dinner dishes from the cabinet. “Your dad said he missed us when I called. I had to extend a simple invite for one dinner, didn’t I?”
“But why did you call?” She could feel in her bones that Vera was up to something.
“Mom said you’re selling the mountain.”
Selling wasn’t exactly a secret, but why did her mother feel a call to Ives was necessary? It wasn’t as if he had the bankroll to give her the money. And he would never simply hand over a sum of that size. A very large, thick string would come attached.
“I’m selling the land that butts up to the mountain where we ski. No one owns the mountain.” The mountain wasn’t good for a whole lot except skiing and hiking in the warmer months. That’s what made her property exceptional for a ski area and why one of her ancestors had purchased it long ago. Nothing could last forever. She only wished she hadn’t been the one to lose it all.
“Why are you selling?” Ives took the last plate from Vera and placed it on the table.
Vera’s cheeks bloomed red.
Autumn tried not to roll her eyes. “Because my father and my late husband didn’t have a way with money. I’m out of options.” She busied herself with putting up the water and gathering spices to add to the jarred sauce.
No point in sugarcoating her problems. When her parents were married, Ives had created large credit-card bills and stuck Vera with them. He claimed he had his reasons but eventually came back around and begged for forgiveness. Vera had obliged without much hesitation. He’d racked up debt two more times after. Vera had forgiven each one. Only after Ives had the affair with Karen Ryker had Vera sent him to the curb.
“Your money problems aren’t because of me.” Shock contorted his face. “I’ve been living on my own a long time now.”
“Seriously? You think your wife dug herself out of your debt that quickly? We’re still paying for your choices.” She had to wonder if the shock on his face was legit or not. She turned back to the water in the pot for fear she might throw something.
“Let’s not argue,” Vera said. “Tonight let’s have a family dinner like we used to. Tomorrow we can air out the dirty laundry.”
“Tomorrow Ives is going to be long gone.”
“I was thinking of staying in town a few days.” He performed his little shuffle dance like a puppet on a string.
“Really? Where? The hotel out on the highway? The Hartman Bed-and-Breakfast?”
“Right here.” Ives held her gaze. “You have the space. Unless your old mom here wants to share a bed again.” He pulled Vera into a hug, pressing her against him.
Vera cackled with laughter and pushed Ives away.
If Autumn had been hungry at the grocery store, she wasn’t now. Between Jett and her parents’ nauseating display of affection, food had lost its appeal. “No way. You are not staying here.”
“Come on, Autumn. It’s only for a couple of nights. You can’t hate your old dad that much. And Quinnie is excited I’m here. I’d like to spend some time with my granddaughter.”
“Why are you really here? What did Vera promise you?” She had to get to the bottom of this unexpected visit. When her father was around, he only disrupted things for her by either asking for money or needing a place to stay until the turmoil of his life calmed down. Once, he’d put her house as his place of residence and had to live with her until his community service was up. He wasn’t like other dads who helped and supported. He rarely cheered her on unless someone else was buying the booze.
Ives broke hearts and made promises he didn’t keep. But boy, did she understand what women saw in him. Her dad was funny and smart. Scary smart. He had deep blue eyes that looked right through her. When she was a kid, she’d sworn her father could read her mind. Confidence rolled off him like a calm wave.
She had loved her father so much once. Until he left and broke her heart. He hadn’t come back for her, didn’t send her cards, didn’t miss her, and that was too much to bear.
He knew what to say to a woman to make her soften—even if she started out skeptical—and open her arms, her bed, and often her wallet to him. She had witnessed her father, with lust-filled eyes, pull a wallflower onto the dance floor and sway with her. In the morning, that shy thing would ease out of his bedroom, emboldened.
Ives had gunned for Karen Ryker for years. Autumn had watched him make up reasons to go next door to pay a visit. When Jett was around, Ives always asked probing questions about Karen. She had paid no attention to him and his advances. At first, she’d had boys to raise. As those boys became men, she’d still had a business to run. But when that woman’s world crashed down on her like a crumbling skyscraper, she hadn’t been able to resist the polished charms of Ives Thatcher. He was a pro, and poor Karen had been broken and alone.
“Why can’t I just invite your father to dinner?” Vera fisted her hands on her hips.
“Because he wouldn’t come unless there was something in it for him. He never shows up without a motive.”
“You’re hurting your poor old dad’s heart.” Ives put his hands on his chest.
The man should have been in theater.
“I missed my daughter and granddaughter. Mom happened to call at the exact moment I was looking at old photos. Figured it was some kind of sign or some such thing. I have a few days between jobs. I decided to take a ride. But this place is so far out of the way I thought I’d stay and do some catching up. Maybe even a little skiing.”
The truth would resemble something closer to he had time in between some big poker game or his next scam. She tried to picture him looking at photos of good times in the past. As much as she hated to admit it, they had shared a few good moments. Ice around her heart splintered a little, but she forced her guard to stay up. Trusting Ives could be dangerous. And she would pay for it, dearly. She also didn’t want him disappointing Quinn. Her girl had enough of her own heartache.
“Come on. It’s only for a couple of days. I promise to be on my best behavior.” He held his palm up and cracked his most handsome smile.
She hated that he knew her so well, that she would fall victim to his charm because she would always be that little girl wanting her daddy to love her.
“One night.”
“One night it is,” Ives said.
She was going to regret this.
****
Jett knocked on Gage’s door. He didn’t know what to do about the bomb Logan had dropped, and he needed some direction. Gage had moved into the guest cottage when Izzy was an infant and had never left. Raising a child wasn’t easy, and Gage did it alone. Having his brothers and mother in shouting distance had helped him get on his feet.
Gage opened the door in his sweats and a pullover hoodie with Backwater Police on the chest. He and Gage were the same height with the same dark hair, though Gage’s was streaked with a little gray. He wasn’t sure when that had happened. He didn’t like the idea of his brother aging. He needed Gage around forever.
“Hey, man. What are you doing here?” Gage stepped aside and waved him in.
Jett pulled off his knit cap and twisted it in his pocket. “Sorry to barge in. I was hoping to talk to you about something. Is anyone home?” He took a quick glance around but didn’t see Izzy or Calista.
“Izzy is in her room, and Calista is at the B and B. She’s sleeping there tonight to help her dad out. They have a full house. You want a beer?” Gage headed to the open kitchen.
All the guest houses were laid out with the same open-floor plan, fireplace in the living area, and two bedrooms down a hall. He always loved these cottages with their walls made of logs and the rustic feel of them against the mountain’s backdrop.
“Is coffee too much trouble? It’s too damn cold for a beer. I walked over.” He slipped out of his coat and sank into the leather sofa. His shoulders sagged under the day’s weight. He could really use the beer to relax a little, but his decision to hoof it had proved to be colder than he thought.
“Walked? Why didn’t you drive?” Gage narrowed his eyes.
“Yeah, not my wisest of choices. I needed to clear my head.” He needed to get Autumn off his mind. Bumping into her at the store brought back the memory of the kiss and how his body woke up when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as if her life depended on it. He would have kissed her all night if she hadn’t pushed him away.
The accidental meeting also brought back the fact she believed he was using her. She didn’t know him at all. She’d had her share of bad experiences with men. Markus Everett hadn’t worked out. Her father was a shyster. And even her husband had let her down.
But he wasn’t like all those men. If she didn’t know that, then they could never be together. It had been a fool’s mission to think for even a second he wanted another chance with a woman who believed all men were the same.
“What’s clogging up that brain of yours?” Gage grabbed mugs and coffee pods.
“I have a kid on my ski team who came to me with a personal problem and wanted my advice. I’m not sure how to handle it.” Talking about Logan would be easier than vocalizing his confusion about Autumn. In the end, they wouldn’t be together. He needed to stop giving her so much of his time. Time he had little of.
“What kind of problem?” Gage handed him the mug of hot black coffee and went back to make another.
“Is this decaf?”
“You want caffeine at this hour?”
“I don’t plan on sleeping.” He hoped for some sleep tonight, but if he didn’t get his mind straight, he’d be up walking the floorboards until the sun came up high enough he could go to the stables.
“Give me that.” Gage took the mug back. “I won’t ask who the kid is yet, but what was his problem? It was a him, wasn’t it?”
“It’s a him. He knocked up a girl.”
“Oh boy. Are they the same age?” Gage handed him a new mug and took the seat opposite him. Gage would be the one worried about an age difference because of the statutory rape laws in Montana.
“Yeah. Consensual and old enough to know better. Just stupid. No condom.” He took a sip, and bitter coffee burned his tongue. He drank more.
“In this day and age? I thought kids today were supposed to be smarter than us.” Gage eyed him over his mug.
“They’re smarter than Lock.” Lock was a pretty smart guy, and the comment was only a joke. One he would make right in front of his brother, who might punch him in response, but that was how they communicated. He wouldn’t change a thing about how he related to his brothers. Well, maybe when he got pretty pissed off at Kace this past fall, he could have handled that time better.
“True enough.” Gage barked out a laugh. “What did you say to this athlete of yours?”
“I told him I would support whatever he did, but I couldn’t tell him what to do.”
“Well done. That’s all you can do. You handled yourself the way you should have as a coach. Did he need something else?” Gage kicked up his socked feet on the coffee table.
“I think he was hoping I would give him a straight answer. You know, tell him exactly what to do. But after we talked for a while, I think he might have come around to the idea I can’t say more than I did.”
“I don’t see the problem, then,” Gage said.
“He also asked me not to tell his father.”
Logan’s request gnawed at him. He could understand wanting to keep secrets from his father. Everyone was entitled to their secrets. But Logan was a kid, and so was this girl. They needed their parents.
“You can’t keep that secret. And if she tells her parents, his are bound to find out. Better he be the one to come clean before someone stops his father or mother on Main Street and congratulates them for becoming a grandparent.” Gage pushed off the chair and went to the mantel. He grabbed a framed picture of all five Ryker boys on a Mother’s Day about twenty-four years ago.
He had the same picture in his place. And Kace and Lock had one in theirs.
“It’s hard to believe he’s gone sometimes.” Gage held the frame in his hand and glanced over his shoulder toward him.
He joined Gage and took the picture from his brother. They had worn white T-shirts and jeans and hired a photographer—all Gage’s idea. He had hated every minute of the posing and Ajay’s goofing around the whole time, but their mom had cried and hugged them when she saw the photo. If he had known that Ajay would be gone shortly thereafter, Jett would have appreciated the moment more.
“Sometimes I’m going along doing my thing, minding my business, and the grief hits me like a truck out of nowhere. As if he just died, and it isn’t two decades ago.” Grief could rock him straight to his core. Sometimes, in ways he couldn’t explain, the loss of his and Autumn’s unborn child would sucker punch him too. He had never asked her if that happened to her. He never asked her about that time at all.
“Ajay kept secrets from us. It got him in a lot of trouble. The worst kind of trouble,” Gage said.
“His secrets were bigger than getting his girlfriend pregnant. That one Mom would’ve stepped in and handled. She would’ve helped Ajay make the best choice he could at the time, and she would’ve loved him regardless of his decision. Dying at a gang initiation and taking Ava Hartman with him was far worse.” He put the picture back on the mantel.
If his kid brother had come clean about his problems, he might still be alive. Knowing that Ajay could have chosen differently didn’t mean Jett was in a position to decide how Logan should handle his issue. What if making the wrong choice ruined his life too?
If he could go back in time with the information he had now, would he make better choices than he had? Would he beg Autumn to stay with him instead of breaking it off? He had come to terms with the fact he could never have changed Ajay. Nothing he could have done differently would have saved his brother. Did that mean if he had begged Autumn to stay, she would still think the worst of him now?
“A secret is a secret. They serve no one well. He should tell his father. The dad is the best suited to help him.” Gage returned to the sofa and grabbed his coffee.
“What if the dad isn’t exactly the best one for the project?” He sat, too tired to keep standing. Even the caffeine wasn’t doing its job.
“You know the dad?”
“Don’t we know everyone?”
“It’s a local kid, then. Not someone on the team from a surrounding town. What about the mom?”
He stared at Gage and hoped his on-the-ball brother would connect the dots himself. Gage had to know who most of the kids on the ski team were. And he did know just about every single family because he was the sheriff and he thought it was his job to help and protect those families as if they were his own.
“It’s Logan Everett,” Gage said without question.
“If I confirm it, do you promise to keep the secret?”
“Since you came here as my younger brother and not as a citizen reporting a crime, then yes, I can keep the secret.”
“Thank you. It’s Logan. I don’t know who the girl is.” But finding out wouldn’t be too hard. He could probably ask Izzy to keep her ears open. Gossip like that didn’t stay hidden. His limited experience with teens had taught him they expressed every thought they had.
“You can’t tell Markus. At least not yet,” Gage said.
“That’s what I was thinking.” He would encourage Logan to do it. Whenever Markus found out, he was pretty sure Markus would blow up. Markus had plans for his only son. A man who sought approval through the objects he collected would not approve of a detour like a baby. And if the girl’s parents were religious and required her to have the baby or keep the baby, Markus would do everything in his power to sway the decision in his favor.
Markus would be the one to go so far as to sleep with someone for the outcome he wanted. Anger washed over him again. He stood up because sitting was out of the question.
“Thanks, man. I’m gonna go. I have to get up early. I have a group scheduled for a sunrise hike.”
“Lock’s not doing it?”
“He wants to do the fire-making workshop that runs almost at the same time. He’s better at that than I am.”
Gage walked him to the door. “Sometimes I think Lock would be happier living in the mountains by himself.”
“Yeah, well, he can do that after I retire and Izzy takes over the ranch. Unless you and Calista plan on having more kids.”
Gage scratched his head. “I’ve thought about it. But I’m getting old. I don’t know if I can do it again.”
He wasn’t expecting that answer. He joked with Gage because until recently he was the only one in a serious relationship. Now Kace had joined him at that table, but Kace seemed more likely to have children than Gage, only because Izzy was closer to moving out than elementary school.
“You are the best man I know. Any kid would be lucky to have you as a father.” He gripped Gage’s shoulder.
“You’re just saying that because it’s late.” Gage choked out a laugh.
“I’m saying it ’cause it’s true. You helped raise all of us. We all come to you when we need something. Look at me. Where did I go tonight? Right to my big brother.”
“Can I ask you something?” Gage shoved his hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt and gave him a sideways glance.
“Sure. Anything.”
“You’ve got this Logan thing all figured out. You didn’t show up so late to ask me about that. There’s something else you need. What did you really come here to talk about?”
“That was it.”
“If you say so. But if you want to change your mind, I can listen.”
“Nothing to talk about.” He shoved his hat on for the walk back.
“All right then. Night.”
“See you.” Jett closed the door behind him.
He stared at the door, tempted to knock again. He had come here looking for direction, but he was more confused than before. Not about Logan. He was pretty certain he had done all he could do for the kid.
He was more confused about the woman who drove him crazy.
He lifted his fist but stopped midair. It could wait. Autumn was a story for another time.