Chapter 2
“Out Jumps Good Old Santa Claus”
Fifteen Years Later
Wren screamed as the cats bolted for cover. Her groceries scattered across the porch as she threw her hands up to shield her face. The moment Soren sprang off the snowmobile, her terror transformed into rage. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I have to talk to you.”
“Don’t listen to him, Wren!” Logan launched out of the black super-duty truck and rushed up the porch.
Soren grabbed him by the back of the shirt and tugged. They stumbled down the steps and scuffled, tripping into a snowbank and grunting like idiots as they peppered each other with pathetic slaps.
“What the hell is going on?”
Logan shot to his feet, but Soren yanked his pants down. “Damn it, Soren! Get off!”
Soren fumbled his way out of the snow and clambered up the steps, scooping up her spilled apples as he rose. “You dropped these.”
She scowled at him through wide eyes. Her eggs lay shattered. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” They weren’t even wearing coats. She looked down at Logan’s feet. “Where are your shoes?”
“There wasn’t time.” He panted.
“You’re terrifying my animals.” The cats hissed and bolted off the porch.
“Sorry. Here, kitty, kitty—umph!”
Logan checked Soren, knocking him into the railing.
“Stop!” Fanning away the exhaust fumes, Wren coughed. The truck pinged continuously with the door ajar. “Are you just going to leave those running?”
Both men looked at each other and then rushed to turn off their vehicles. The silence deafened. She still didn’t know what the hell could cause them to show up like that.
When they offered no explanation, she swung out her arms. “Well? Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”
They looked at each other again but said nothing.
“Great.” She bent to collect her spilled items, stuffing them angrily into her torn grocery bags. “Just another day of inexplicable Hawthorne behavior.”
“We didn’t mean to scare you,” Logan said, passing her the carton of dripping eggs. “Sorry. We’ll replace them.”
She pursed her lips. “If you don’t want to scare people, don’t drive like psychopaths.” She shoved the bag into Logan’s arms and searched the porch for her keys. When she finally unlocked the door of her cabin, the men lingered at the threshold, looking contrite.
Wren sighed. “Come in and dry off before you catch pneumonia. Leave your shoes at the door and lay your socks on the hearth.”
The cabin was small and toasty from the logs in the woodstove she’d left burning that morning. She moved through the open-concept layout to the small kitchen as they swept snow chips off their jeans. Even with the tall A-frame roof, they looked too big for her tiny home.
When she’d had her house built, they’d made fun of its size. She didn’t mind that it was small. She lived alone, and it met all her needs. She especially loved the east-facing window where she practiced her sun salutations each morning in the natural light.
Only her bedroom and bathroom had interior walls, but even they didn’t reach the cathedral ceilings.
Wren hated feeling boxed in and preferred to spend time outdoors in nature.
Unfortunately, Hideaway Harbor endured its long winters, so the icy seasons were tough.
By the end of the colder months, her cabin fever peaked through the roof.
If she had to be indoors, she at least wanted to be somewhere she loved, and she adored her little home.
Soren looked around as if the locally sourced custom cabinetry his brother built offended him. “It always feels like entering a dollhouse whenever I come in here.”
“Don’t start.” She unloaded her damaged groceries on the island. They still hadn’t told her why they were there. “Is your dad okay?”
“He’s the same.”
“Didn’t he have an appointment this week?” One of the many joys of small-town life meant that no one’s business stayed private, and HIPAA laws didn’t apply to neighborly gossip.
“Yeah, but nothing’s changed,” Soren said, helping her unload some of the groceries. “They’re still saying he has months. Maybe weeks.”
She stilled. Sometimes, they acted so cavalier about their father’s health that she wondered if they lived in denial. Bodhi might be an unconventional father, but she couldn’t imagine losing him. After losing her mom, he was all she had left.
Magnus Hawthorne was far from what anyone would call pleasant or easy, but like her, they’d lost their mother, and Magnus remained the only parent.
She rested her hand on Soren’s. “I hope he has more time than the doctors expect.”
Christmas was difficult without their moms. They all knew Magnus faced terminal illness, but she really hoped the boys could have at least one more holiday with him.
Soren turned his hand and laced his fingers with hers, meeting her stare. “Thanks. That means a lot, Wren.”
Logan cleared his throat, his sad expression mirroring his brother’s. “Yeah. It’s been really hard.”
She glanced at them and frowned. What were they up to? It might be normal for sons of a dying man to express concern, but the Hawthornes weren’t wired that way. They seemed to be working extra hard to fish for sympathy.
She changed the subject. “How was Thanksgiving?”
Soren continued looking at her with puppy dog eyes. “It’s been really hard…”
She withdrew her hand from his and crossed her arms over her chest. “All right, what’s going on?”
“Well, it’s funny you mention Dad.” Soren’s voice softened. “He’s actually why we’re here.”
“Uh, hold on, now.” Logan shoved his brother behind him with a silencing glare. “Let’s not go rushing into anything.”
Wren’s frown deepened. “You’re both being super weird. Either tell me what’s going on or I’m throwing your asses out into the snow.” She looked expectantly at Soren, but his lips seemed sewn shut. She stepped closer to Logan. “I know you can’t keep a secret.”
His jaw trembled.
“Logan,” Soren warned, but it was too late.
“Dad changed the will.”
“Damn it, Logan!” Soren pivoted out of the kitchen and paced. “Of all the places to start!”
“What do you mean he changed his will?” And why would Magnus’s will and testament bring them here? She fixed Logan with a penetrating stare.
“He’s no longer leaving us the company.”
“What? But you’re his sons!”
“Hold on,” Soren objected. “He’s not leaving it to Logan.”
Logan shoved his brother. “He’s not leaving it to you either. It’s going to the board and shareholders unless...”
She leaned forward, waiting for him to finish. “Unless what?”
Logan shifted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Unless one of us proves we’re responsible enough to take it over.”
She frowned. “How does he expect to measure that?”
Again, they clammed up.
“Somebody better start talking. You came here for a reason, and I want to know why.”
Her mind went to the property, and her curiosity morphed into panic. The Haven, named after her mother, sprawled across a private retreat of more than fifteen thousand acres of woodland, but it also bordered the Hawthorne estate.
“Is this about the occupancy permit for the new lodges?”
“No, it has nothing to do with your plans for the retreat.”
“Then why are you here?”
They both looked uncomfortably at each other.
“Enough with the weird looks!”
“He added a clause.”
“A clause?”
“Some minor new requirements,” Soren explained.
“Such as...?”
“He wants us to take more interest in our positions on the board and show up for more meetings.”
“Well, that seems fair. If you guys are going to run the company, you’ll need to stay informed.”
“But that’s not all he wants.”
They both stared at her, and she instinctively stepped back like cornered prey. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
And where was Greyson? Wouldn’t this affect him, too? Leave it to Greyson to remove himself entirely from any emotional situation.
“He, uh…” Logan cleared his throat. “…wants us to settle down.”
She laughed. “Yeah, right.”
No resident in Hideaway Harbor would classify any of the Hawthorne boys as settled. They were as untamed as the seas and as unruly as the wind. Even a patriarch as powerful as Magnus Hawthorne the Third couldn’t control such wildness.
“Good luck with that.”
Soren met her stare. “He wants us to find a wife.”
She stilled. “Excuse me?”
“He thinks getting married will calm us down.”
Her laughter doubled. “That poor woman, whoever she is! Getting married isn’t going to tame you boys.” Suddenly, her laughter stopped, a foreboding queasiness creeping in. “Wait…”
Soren glanced at Logan. “I think she’s getting it now. Give her a sec.”
“You’re not here because...”
They both looked at each other then at her.
She took another step back. “Absolutely not! Are you insane?”
“It’s not that crazy of an idea, Wren.”
Frantically, she stowed groceries in the cabinets and fridge, shoving items onto the wrong shelves, too distracted to achieve any organization. “Whatever crazy ideas brought you here, forget it! My God, there are three of you! What did you expect to happen?”
“Forget the fact that there are three of us and only one of you. You’re the only woman any of us would ever consider marrying.”
She spun and gaped at them. “Us? What the hell are you suggesting, Logan?”
“No, it wouldn’t be like that. You would pick.”
“Pick what?”
He shrugged. “Whichever one of us you liked most.”
Her jaw unhinged. “You’ve lost your mind.”
Wren pushed past them and carried her new shampoo into the bathroom. When she set it down and turned, they were right behind her—cornering her again and sucking all the air out of her little house. She wedged between them and went back to the kitchen.
“Come on, Wren. We’d let you choose.”
She stilled then pivoted to face them. “Oh, I get to choose? Well, how lucky for me! Whichever one will it be? Let’s see. Considering that I’ve never had a single romantic interaction with any of you, I guess my answer is none.”
“Come on, Wren—”
“No!” she snapped, stepping away from Soren’s cajoling touch. He could be quite convincing when he turned on the charm, and she wasn’t falling for that. “Did you actually think you could come here and talk me into marrying one of you? What kind of woman do you think I am?”
“The marrying kind.”
Her stare snapped to Logan’s. “Don’t be a smartass. If I ever do get married, it’s going to be to someone who loves me. Not someone who views me as a means to an end.” She didn’t know why her voice cracked. “I think you both should leave.”
“Hey.” Soren closed the distance. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”
Again, she shrugged off his touch, unsure how such a ridiculous proposition could trigger this much turmoil. “You’re supposed to be my friends.”
“We are your friends. Wren, we love you.”
She scoffed and flung away any attempt to comfort her. “If you loved me, you’d want the best for me. Did my feelings even cross your mind when you rushed over here?”
They shot each other a sidelong glance, and she had her answer.
She shoved both of them in the chest. “Jerks!”
“Are you mad because you don’t think we’d make good husbands?” Logan asked defensively.
“Husbands? We live in America, Logan. Bigamy is illegal!”
“To be clear,” Soren chimed in, “we aren’t asking for anything polyamorous. We’re just trying to keep Hawthorne Fishery in the family. We need your help, Wren. Could you imagine if the company were sold off and divided? The Hawthorne name would mean nothing after that.”
“And let’s say you chose me,” Logan chimed in. “You know I’d treat you better than Soren or any other man could. I’m a lover.”
She blinked up at him, wondering if he actually heard how idiotic he sounded.
“There’s no way you’re winning this,” Soren growled.
“This?”
“Not this. You.”
“Ah, so much less offensive when you say it that way.” Her eyes narrowed.
“How about I talk now?” She took a step forward and scowled at both of them, putting the two idiots on the defensive.
“Since I was sixteen years old, you did everything in your power to keep every guy in Hideaway Harbor away from me. For a time, I figured you might actually like me, but it turned out none of you had a single romantic interest in me. You just wanted to screw up my life and make sure I stayed single.”
“That’s not—“
“I’m not finished!” She took another step, forcing them to stagger back.
“You stand here, in my home—where I live alone thanks to years of your ridiculous, territorial crap—telling me you could treat me better than any man. Well, I’d hope so!
I deserve that. But with all this crazy talk of marriage and wills, neither of you has made a single mention of love. Why is that?”
They looked dumbfounded.
“It’s because you don’t love me!”
“Wren, how could you say that—”
“I’m still speaking. You see me as a little sister. Is that what you want in a wife?”
“We were only trying to protect you.”
“You punished me! By the time I was a senior, no one would even ask me to prom.”
“I offered—”
“That’s not the same!” Her eyes prickled with unshed tears.
“You’ve never actually thought about my feelings or what I might need.
You all just did whatever the hell you felt like doing, and today is no different.
” Her anger left on an exhalation. “Maybe your dad’s right.
You boys need to grow up. But I won’t be the woman who makes that happen for you. ”
“Give us a chance.”
“No.” She blinked rapidly as her eyes blurred. “I’ve waited years to fall in love. You think I’m going to settle now? Whatever pathetic impression of love you’re offering doesn’t interest me. I think you both should leave.”
“You’re offended—“
“Yes, I’m offended! As my friends, you should want the best for me.
This has nothing to do with me. This is about you.
It’s always been about you—your feelings, your insecurities.
Well, I’m not a kid anymore. All your games of ‘Keep the Boys Away from Wren’ made me the independent woman I am now, so you can blame yourselves for getting kicked out. ”
“You’re really kicking us out?”
“Yes.” She snatched their socks off the bricks and flung them at their chests. “This is the last I want to hear about any of this. Now, you both need to leave.” When they just stood there, she snapped, “Go!”
They quickly hopped into their socks and grumbled apologies as they rushed to the door. Not a single tear fell in their presence, but when the truck engine roared to life and the snowmobile buzzed off in the distance, she lost her composure.
Wren locked the door and pressed her back to the wood, sliding all the way to the floor. Her vision cleared as soon as she stopped fighting her tears. She searched the rafters for any sense of her mother’s presence and sighed.
“Tell Sable her sons are morons.”