Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Felicity was busy packing up an order when Jackson walked in.
She couldn’t help the smile that broke out over her face when she saw him standing there, looking like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.
He was far too handsome for his own good.
“Hey,” she said. “I’ll be ready in just a few minutes. ”
“Take your time,” he said as he turned to stare out the window.
Something was off. Jackson seemed tense, like he was on high alert, and she needed to know why. After she handed the package to her customer, she walked over to Jackson and said, “What are you doing?”
“Watching that jackass Trace Rhodes try to find a ride,” he said, nodding at the man who was on his phone again and pacing around the parking lot.
“He’s not staying for the filming?” she asked, curious about the drama.
“No, Larry fired him.” Jackson turned to her. “But that’s not even the craziest thing I heard this morning. I was on the porch and overheard Trace talking to someone named Vincent.”
“As in Vincent Sinclair?” she asked, certain that couldn’t be true.
“The one and only.” Jackson gave her a brief rundown of how Trace was making plans for the orchard as if the man already owned it.
“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but it sounds like Trace and Vincent are planning on making sure the foreclosure goes through and then fleecing the property from Ernie. ”
“That’s… crazy,” she said, shaking her head. “You must have heard him wrong.”
Jackson stared down at her and sadly shook his head. “I didn’t. That man is planning something, and the fairies are not having it.”
“Well, neither am I.” Felicity didn’t want to believe that someone was trying to steal her family land out from beneath her, but she trusted Jackson, and if he said he heard Trace making plans, then that was all she needed to know.
With her hands balled into fists, she strode out of the store and walked right up to Trace. “You need to leave my property right now.”
He blinked at her and then gave her a look of extreme irritation. “I’ll leave when I’m ready.”
“No, Trace Rhodes. You’ll leave right now.” She pointed at the road. “You aren’t welcome here. Get off my property, or I’ll be forced to call the police and have you escorted off.”
“What crawled up your butt?” he asked. “I’m not doing anything but waiting for a ride.”
“You did, and I don’t care what you’re doing. Do it down at the road.”
“The film company has a contract,” he said. “You can’t throw me off the property. You’re being paid handsomely for our right to just stand around if we want to.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been fired, which means that you no longer work for the film company that has a contractual right to be here.
” She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and once again pointed to the road.
“Go now, and just so we’re clear, I never want to see your face around here again. Got it?”
Trace’s face turned dark as anger flashed in his beady eyes. “Come January 1st, you won’t have a choice. I’ll be here with bells on, so enjoy your property while you can, Ms. Hill, but this time next year, you’ll be the one who is not welcome here.”
As he strode off, kicking up wet snow as he went, she called after him, “Over my dead body!”
He shrugged and called back, “That’s a little dramatic, but it’s your choice, I suppose. Good luck, Ms. Hill.”
Felicity was so angry she was afraid she’d run after the man and throttle him.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
She suddenly became aware that she was so angry she was shaking, and she took several deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. Trace Rhodes would never have her property. Not even if she had to sell it to someone else to keep him from getting his grubby hands on it.
“Jackson, can you take me to Tahoe now?” She pulled the golden key that the fairies had left her the night before from her pocket and held it up. “It’s time to find out what’s in that treasure box.”
“I’m ready when you are,” he said.
“Let’s go.”
“I haven’t been here in years,” Felicity said as she stood in front of the large home that sat back in the woods, hidden from the road.
A Toyota 4Runner was in the driveway, the snow had been plowed, and there were boots sitting on the front porch.
Add in the fact that soft light glowed from the front window, and there was every indication that someone was home.
“Did your parents share custody?” Jackson asked.
“No,” she said, swallowing the bitterness that she always felt when she thought of how her father had just up and left for a new life. “My mom brought me to visit a few times, but every time we came, it was awkward and weird, and all I wanted to do was go home.”
Jackson wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m right here. Any time you want to leave, just give me the word.”
She smiled up at him gratefully. “Thank you.” Then she took a deep breath, wondering if her father would even recognize her. Straightening her spine, she walked up to the door and knocked.
A dog started barking, announcing their presence, and then she heard it. Her father’s voice.
“Quiet, Bruno. That’s enough.” The door swung open, and her father, who was holding a small white and gold dog, said, “Hi, can I help you?”
She stared at him. He looked pretty much the same. His hair was turning silver, he’d gained about twenty pounds, and there were lines around his eyes, but he was the same man she remembered. She cleared her throat. “Hello, Dad.”
Surprise flashed over Gary Dillon’s face before he lit up, his smile reaching his eyes. “Felicity? My goodness, you look wonderful.”
His reaction took her off guard, and she gaped at him for a moment.
“Come in. It’s cold outside.” He opened the door wider and waved for her to enter his home.
“Um, yeah, okay.” She led the way and heard Jackson introduce himself as he passed her father.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jackson. Are you Felicity’s partner?” Gary asked.
“No,” she and Jackson said at the same time. Then Felicity said, “He’s a friend. A good friend… though maybe more.”
Jackson’s lips twitched with amusement.
Gary chuckled and said, “I see.” He led them deeper into the house until they were in his cozy living room and said, “Take a seat. Do you want something to drink? I have water, tea, cocoa, soda. I’d offer a beer or wine, but there’s no alcohol in the house.”
“No,” Felicity said, shaking her head as she and Jackson sat on the couch.
“We’re fine.” It occurred to her that Jackson could have answered for himself, but her nerves had taken over, and she was having trouble processing everything.
She hadn’t expected her father to be pleased to see her.
It went against everything she’d believed for the past twenty years.
Her father put the dog down on the floor, and the fluffy thing ran over to her, putting his paws on her leg as he begged for attention.
“Hey there, cutie pie. You’re really sweet, aren’t you?” she said to the dog, knowing that she was procrastinating.
Gary sat back in his chair, watching her. Waiting.
Finally, Felicity looked up at him, intending to ask about the treasure chest, but instead she blurted, “Why did you leave?” She clamped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“But it’s what you needed to say,” Gary said as he leaned forward and clasped his hands together.
“There is no magic answer, Felicity. Nothing that can excuse my absence or explain why. I’m afraid the only answer is that your mother and I were toxic when we were together.
She didn’t want me around, and eventually, I just couldn’t stay. It wasn’t healthy for anyone.”
Felicity studied him, hating that his answer seemed rehearsed, as if he’d spent a long time thinking about what he’d say when she finally came looking for him. “What’s the real answer, Gary?”
His carefully cheerful expression vanished, replaced by a mix of pain and embarrassment. “You’re a lot like her, you know.”
“I’m more like my grandmother,” she said with a sniff.
Gary cracked a hint of a smile. “That’s true. You are.” Then he stared down at his feet before he finally looked up and said, “The truth is that I was drinking too much, and your mother thought I was an alcoholic.”
“Were you?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes. I’m in recovery now.”
“That’s good. How long?” What she really wanted to know was why he hadn’t contacted her once he’d gotten sober.
“Ten years.” He picked up the dog that had run back to him and gave the creature his full attention, no doubt needing something else to focus on other than his only daughter.
“Why didn’t you contact me?” she asked.
His head jerked up, and he locked eyes with her when he said, “I did. Many times.”
“No, you didn’t.” She spat the words out, hating that he was lying.
“Felicity,” he said softly, “I promise that I did. I wrote letters, hoping that someday you’d want to see me again.” He got up from the chair, walked over to the mantel, and grabbed a wooden box. He set it on the coffee table, and Felicity let out a small gasp.
“It’s the treasure chest,” she whispered. “You still have it.”
He frowned. “Of course I do. It belonged to your grandmother. I’m not sure how it ended up in my things when I left, but I always intended to send it back to her, and then…” He trailed off and shook his head as if he was trying to forget he’d said anything.
“And then what?” she demanded, needing to know what this box meant to him.
Sadness flashed in his green eyes as he said, “I suppose it felt like a lifeline to you. As long as I had that box, I thought that maybe it meant that we’d find a way back to each other. I know that’s ridiculous, but—”
Felicity held up a hand, stopping him. “It’s not ridiculous.” Then she let out a bark of laughter as she pulled the key out of her pocket. “That box is why we’re here.”