Chapter 41
Beckett
Throughout the evening, Beck wanted to pull June into his arms and keep her safe from the emotions he could tell were battering
her from all sides.
He could only imagine how overwhelmed she must be about the whole thing as she talked about her mother—and about her mother’s
husband, the man she had always thought was her father.
She wasn’t quite as pale as when he had first walked into the kitchen, when he had wanted to carry her out of the ranch house
and take her home with him.
Loretta wanted to know every detail of June’s life, from her earliest childhood memories to her school experiences to her
college life and helping to start the tech company.
“This all feels like a miracle to me,” Loretta said more than once. He wasn’t sure she had taken her gaze away from June’s
features through the entire meal, as if memorizing each inch.
“I think it’s wonderful that you’re reading through Dad’s journals,” Alison said, spooning whipped cream onto her dessert
crepe. “What better way to find out all his hopes and dreams?”
“He was a fascinating man,” June said. “I wish I’d had the chance to know him.”
Beneath the table, Beck reached for her hand. She sent a startled look in his direction, but to his immense gratification,
she turned her hand over and entwined her fingers with his, clinging tightly.
“Do you know anything about your son writing another manuscript between Purgatory River and Beneath the Dusty Sky ? Something that might have been titled The Forgotten Road ?” she asked.
Loretta appeared to consider. “I don’t know. He was very private about his work. And I think he went through something of
a creative crisis after all the buzz about Purgatory River . He all but disappeared, off on his grand adventures. I can’t tell you how much I worried about him during that time.”
“I believe he may have written a manuscript that he never published,” June said. “He leaves breadcrumbs of information about
it sprinkled throughout his journals, and it doesn’t sound anything like his other work.”
“That would be remarkable, if you could find it.”
“We’ve gone through every corner of the cabin with no luck,” Beck said.
“I can’t shake the feeling that the book might give us some answers about what happened between Carson and my... my mother.”
“Did you check his bedroom here?” Loretta asked.
Alison looked confused. “I thought he kept all his writing-related materials at the cabin. He always said he needed to keep
a mental and emotional separation between his work life and his home life.”
“He did try to compartmentalize the two, especially after your mother died. But there was always spillover. It was impossible
to completely split the two parts of himself.”
“Would you mind if we looked there at some point?” June asked tentatively.
“Of course not. Search all you like. You could have a look tonight, if you wanted to.”
June exchanged a glance with Beck and he could see the spark of excitement rekindle in her eyes. He had to admit he was caught
up in the challenge of the search, too.
“Are you sure?” June asked.
“You should probably ask Alison. Everything in the house is hers now.”
They all turned to Alison, who set down her fork. “You can look through anything you want. You don’t even have to ask. That goes for both of you. But do you mind if I skip out on this one?”
“I thought you wanted to help us look,” Beck said.
“I do. If Dad has a missing manuscript somewhere, I want to find it. But to be honest, it’s still hard for me to go into Dad’s
room.”
That had been the room where Carson had his cardiac arrest, Beck realized. Ali had been in her own room down the hall when
she heard him cry out, then the crash of his fall. She had rushed in to find him on the floor.
“We’ve got this,” Beck said, giving her a compassionate look.
“I’ll stay and help Grandma clean up while you two go look.”
“We can help clean up first,” June said.
Loretta waved her arm. “Go. We’ve got this. It won’t take us longer than ten minutes.”
Beck led the way toward the room he knew was Carson’s. Considered the owner’s suite, the room was huge, with a sitting area
in front of a river-rock fireplace and a massive bathroom. Dominating the space was a large four-poster bed. It looked as
it must have the day he died, with stacks of books on his side table and a favorite sweater over the arm of one of the chairs.
June sat down on the sofa, looking lost again.
“Are you okay?”
“No. Not really. It’s all so much.”
She released a heavy breath. “I like Loretta. She’s wonderful. But I don’t understand how she can immediately accept the situation
and embrace me like I’m her long-lost granddaughter.”
“Maybe because you are?”
She rubbed her temples in a gesture that reminded him of one of Carson’s mannerisms. “What if I’m not, though? What if it’s
all a mistake and the new DNA tests prove otherwise? I don’t want her to be hurt by the whole thing.”
He suddenly realized that while she was concerned about Loretta’s feelings, she was also worried about her own. June was afraid to believe, afraid of the disappointment that might be on the other side.
She looked so lost and afraid, this bright, talented, self-assured woman, that he couldn’t help himself. He sat beside her
on the sofa, reached out and pulled her into his arms.
She was stiff for an instant, muscles taut, then she seemed to sag against him, and her arms came around his neck.
She was trembling slightly and he tightened his hold, wanting to give her his heat and his comfort and his strength.
Finally, she eased away with a tremulous smile. “Thank you for everything you’ve done the past few days. You’ve been a rock,
Beck.”
Her eyes looked huge and luminous, a sheen of tears she refused to shed. As he looked at her, Beck felt all the walls he had
built so carefully around his emotions crumble into dust.
He wanted to be more than a rock to her. He wanted to be this woman’s friend, her lover, her everything.
He knew he shouldn’t want it, that the timing was abysmal. Her life was in complete disarray.
It was too late, though.
He released her so that he didn’t compound his mistakes by kissing her again.
“Let’s find your father’s missing manuscript.”
She gave a small laugh and wiped at her face. “You make it sound so easy.”
With any luck, it would be. She deserved to have one thing be easy, didn’t she?
“I’ll go through the closet,” he said. “You can start out here.”