Epilogue #2
“I’m glad Harvey did it,” I admitted. “Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but I don’t care. I’m glad he shot Prentice. It doesn’t bring our mother back, but it’s some kind of justice.”
Griffen met my eyes in perfect accord. “I agree.”
“Well,” Hope said into the heavy moment, “I uninvited Harvey and Edgar from Christmas.”
“You uninvited Uncle Edgar from Christmas?” Griffen asked slowly. Hope had learned how to set boundaries with her uncle, but he was still her only family, and I knew she’d never turn her back on him.
“Griffen,” she said, “he lied. For years. To us, to Harvey. He knew. He knew where your mother was this whole time.” Her voice caught.
She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.
“I can’t. I’ll be able to live with it eventually, but I can’t right now.
I know Uncle Edgar is no innocent, but that’s just too much.
And I know you don’t want to see him across the table at Christmas dinner. ”
Griffen shook his head slowly. “I really don’t. I was willing to put up with him for you, but I need time, too.”
Griffen looked to me, and I sent Hope an apologetic look. “I know Edgar thought he was doing the right thing—he always does—but all those years he watched us living without her, thinking she’d left us, and never said a fucking word. It’s going to be a while until I want to share a table with him.”
Hope nodded. “We can talk about it later, when we’re ready.” She paused, gave herself a little shake, and then smiled at me. “So, what did you want to meet with us about?” she asked. “What’s your plan now that the question of your father is settled?”
“You’re aware that Prentice started a charitable fund a few years ago?” I asked.
Hope’s cheeks flushed again, this time in embarrassment.
“That’s been my project. We came across it not long after your father died.
We’ve been meaning to do something with it, but we were getting a handle on the business, and then there was Stella, and it’s been on the back burner, I’m sorry to say.
Prentice had a few things set up. There are some donations from when he was alive that were questionable,” she said.
“We stopped anything like that when Griffen took over, kept the regular donations to the food bank, Laurel Country Day, and a few others. Why do you mention it?”
“I want to run it,” I said. “There’s enough money in there that, if properly invested, we can make it grow while still deploying it.
And there’s a lot of need here in the community, locally, and abroad.
I’m good at making money, but so are you and Hope and Royal, and I don’t want to step on your toes. ”
“Ford, we’d make room for you at Sawyer Enterprises if you want to come back,” Griffen said, and for the first time since we’d been together as adults, I knew he meant it wholeheartedly.
If I wanted a seat at their table, they’d make one for me, and knowing that meant everything.
I shook my head. “I appreciate that. But if you don’t have an objection, I’d like to put my focus on the philanthropy fund.
Dad used it as a tax shelter, but now it’s ours, and we can use that money to do some good.
Here are some things I’ve been thinking about.
” I opened the file folder I’d brought and pulled out the presentation I’d thrown together, highlighting local charities I thought could use a boost.
With me at the helm, I could bring both funds and media attention, letting us rope in other donors. I had a lot of plans. I just needed the go-ahead. Once, it would have burned that I had to ask Griffen. Not now. We were a family. We decided together.
When they were done going through my charts and spreadsheets, Griffen held up the file folder and said, “Can I hang on to this?”
“Sure. What do you think?” I kept my tone light, but nerves twisted in my gut. If he wanted his revenge, now would be a great time to smack me down.
But that wasn’t Griffen. And that was the old me.
He grinned. “I think it sounds great. It’s a perfect fit for you.”
“I’ll put some more plans together,” I said, not trying to dim the smile that spread across my face. “We can go over them after the new year.” I stood, suddenly eager to leave the office.
“Tell Paige hi from us,” Griffen said with a smirk as I walked to the door.
It should have annoyed me that my older brother knew exactly where I was going.
I shot him the middle finger as I walked through the door, but I did it with a grin on my face, because he wasn’t wrong.
I’d been headed down the stairs to the kitchen to find Paige and tell her my new life plan was a go.
I was starting over—a little late in life. But this time I knew I was going to feel good about my work. And maybe, if I could hang around long enough, I’d leave the world a better place than I’d made it up until now.
I found Paige and all the kids, even Thatcher, sitting around the table in the kitchen. The room smelled of citrus and spice. I watched as Finn pulled a cookie sheet out of the oven, covered in—
“Are those oranges?” I asked. I could smell them, fragrant and sweet, but the skin looked darker than I would have expected. “Did you bake a bunch of oranges?”
“I dried them,” Finn said. He set the tray down and gingerly transferred the oven-hot oranges to a dish, picking one up and knocking his knuckles against the side with a low, hollow thump.
“They’ve already made their way through one batch.
” He lifted his chin to the box sitting at the end of the kitchen island.
I looked in to see it half full of oranges studded with cloves, tied with red ribbons. “You guys are making pomanders?” I asked. “I haven’t seen these in an age, except in the gift shop in town and at the Inn.”
“Miss Martha remembered having them when you guys were kids,” Paige said. “She mentioned them to Nicky, and we all thought it sounded like fun.”
“Can I help?” I asked, sliding into the chair next to Paige.
Her smile was blinding. “Of course. Here, watch what Nicky’s doing.”
I watched as the first grader carefully applied tape in lines around the orange.
“That’s where the ribbon goes,” he said. “You have to put the tape on first, or you put the cloves in the wrong place and then the ribbon won’t stay.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “I’m impressed.” I watched the kids work for a minute. “How many of these things have you guys made?”
“A lot,” Thatcher said. “I’m covering this one in cloves.”
“I don’t think you can use that many,” his younger brother August said, looking at the pile of fragrant cloves in front of Thatcher doubtfully.
“Want to bet?” Thatcher challenged.
I caught Paige’s grin. Part of why she was so good with the kids was that she genuinely loved being with them.
The more time I spent watching her work, the more I understood why.
They were good kids. And hanging out with Paige, watching her craft beside them as she gently guided them—helping cut ribbon, sort cloves—I looked at the kids and thought I wouldn’t mind having one.
Maybe more than one. I might actually be able to figure out how to be a good father.
I had examples all around me now. And if I ended up with a kid as cool as these three were, and if they had a mom like Paige…
“What are you thinking about with that smile on your face?” Paige asked me in a low murmur, leaning in close.
“You.” I dipped my head to sneak a kiss. “And the future,” I added, after I pulled my lips away.
“This is going to be a good Christmas,” she said.
“It really is,” I agreed.
Savannah found us an hour later, just as we were tying up the last of the pomanders.
“Who wants to help me decorate?” With a shriek, the kids evaporated, sneakers pounding down the hall. Savannah laughed. “I wasn’t expecting any help—not after I roped them into putting up pine boughs everywhere the other day. I’m amazed you got them to sit still for this long,” she said to Paige.
“It accomplished two goals,” Paige replied with a grin. “We got all the pomanders made, and they’ll hide from the rest of us all day in fear of more crafts. It’s a win/win.”
“Before I start setting these all around the house,” Savannah said, hefting the box on her hip, “I have something to show you, Ford. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” I said, curious. I reached for Paige’s hand, and she followed along.
“I’ve been working on something,” Savannah said as we climbed the stairs. “I should have done it a long time ago.”
As we reached the top, she turned toward the family wing. My sister Parker stood at the end of the hall, beaming at me. “I feel like we’ve been waiting forever,” she said. “This way.”
I slowed when I saw where she was heading: the door to my old suite.
But she passed it and stopped at the rooms that had been Griffen’s.
When our father had thrown Griffen out of Heartstone all those years ago, he’d had the rooms emptied and everything painted white, as if he could erase Griffen’s imprint on the Manor. No one had touched it since.
Parker stopped, her hand on the door. “I found a lot of things when I was working on the cottage and the gatehouse that I thought would be perfect for you. You seemed adamant about not using your old rooms. But we talked to Griffen and—”
Parker opened the door to the room and stepped inside. Savannah, Paige, and I followed.
I knew Parker had been redoing the most outdated areas of Heartstone Manor, but I hadn’t thought she was working in the family wing.
She’d completely redone the empty suite, painting the walls a deep forest green, the trim a warm cream.
The combination was both crisp and welcoming.
The view of the back gardens and the mountains beyond looked like a painting.
Savannah had set up half the main space as a sitting room with a long leather couch, armchairs with ottomans, and a huge flat-screen against the wall.
The other side of the main room had a desk big enough to really use, with a matching cabinet that I imagined could hold a printer and office supplies.
I crossed the room and opened the antique corner cabinet to see a snack and beverage station stocked with a mini-fridge, kettle, coffee, and baskets of cookies and the chips she knew were my favorite.
I wandered into the bedroom to find a king-size bed with an upholstered dark leather headboard, made up in crisp white sheets piped with dark green that matched the walls. Parker must have done some remodeling, because I didn’t remember Griffen ever having a walk-in closet or a bathroom this big.
I realized as I walked through the rooms that there was space here not just for one, but for two. When I was done, I turned to Parker and Savannah.
“When did you both have time to do this?” I asked.
“Here and there,” Savannah said.
“I understood why you didn’t want to go back to your old rooms,” Parker said.
“And if you’d rather stay in the guest wing—” She smiled at Paige before looking back to me.
“That’s okay, too. But we wanted you to have this.
We’re all so glad you’re home.” Parker rushed forward and threw her arms around me.
I hugged her tight. “I love you, Parks.”
“I love you, too.” She pulled away and wiped a streak of moisture from under her eye. “We’ll give you guys some privacy to look around.” Parker grabbed Savannah’s hand and tugged her out of the room.
I watched them go, closing the door behind themselves. Sometimes it was hard to believe how things had worked out and how blind I’d been.
“Are you going to move in here?” Paige asked.
“I don’t know. This is really thoughtful. I wasn’t expecting—” I looked around at the comfortable, masculine, classically styled room that was a perfect fit for my personality and my taste. “Parker is amazing,” I said. “And Savannah might as well have a furniture store up in the attics.”
“Everything in this room looks like it was well made for you,” she said. “I think you should move in. Let them welcome you home.”
“You want me to move over here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be across the hall.”
“True,” she said, walking up and sliding her arms around my waist.
“I’m assuming,” I said, pulling her close, “that it’s too soon to ask you to move in with me.”
Her mouth curved in a smile that tempted me to kiss her. I didn’t wait, running my thumbs along her chin to tilt her face to mine, her full lips a soft invitation.
“Maybe a little too soon,” she said when I broke the kiss, “but I could leave a few things over here, just so I’m not sneaking around the halls in my robe.” She leaned back out of my embrace and swept the room with her gaze.
“It’s big enough for two,” I said.
“It is,” she agreed.
“Eventually,” I said, and kissed her again.
“Eventually.”
And I could see it all—our future laid out in front of me: Paige, family, everything I never thought I’d have, never thought I deserved. It all started with the woman in my arms.
I’d been waiting my entire life for her. Now that we were together, life was just beginning.