A Fourth of July Proposal, page 24
“Rachel, Ryker Slade.” She walked up to him, immaculate and well-dressed, slightly reserved, yet he saw no expression of judgment on her face.
He nodded.
“Your father was the most contrary man. Anything I suggested, he would do the opposite. I didn’t learn that quickly enough. I am sorry.”
Ryker turned to watch her, rather than the house. He hadn’t known why she wanted to meet him here, but an apology hadn’t been expected. Or required.
“I never thought you were responsible for the accident.”
“I wasn’t. No one at the mill was. Your father was...”
“Drunk.”
She nodded. “As your family was more aware of than anyone. I offer an apology for not being able to help you, you and your siblings, more. I couldn’t do anything to support your father’s claims, or he would have had some basis to sue the mill for money. That money would have had to come from funds going to keep the mill going.”
Ryker frowned.
“It’s not widely known, but our family has been living on investments, not money taken from the mill since well back into the last century. I haven’t taken any salary or bonuses since my husband died. The mill was struggling for years before I finally had to close it.”
Ryker felt the surprise in Rachel’s tightened grip. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t know this. He lifted his chin toward the house. “What happened here wasn’t your problem.”
She ran her gaze over the building, so much smaller and shabbier than her own.
“I was taught, perhaps wrongly, that what happened in the town that bore my name was my responsibility. It took too long to understand how to manage your father. I hope the air force suited you better?”
Ryker tensed, and Rachel rubbed his arm. Had Abigail been behind the choice he’d been offered all those years ago?
“Yes and no.”
She examined him. “We hoped it would give you more options. Get you away from bad influences. Yes, I helped come up with that offer. I thought you had potential, and that your brothers would drag you down with them.”
Since the twins were in prison, it was probable he’d be there, too, if he hadn’t enlisted.
“That’s true.”
Her lips twisted. “It caused its own problems, didn’t it? That’s the problem with meddling. Things don’t always fall out as you hope.”
Ryker gave her a small smile.
“I still appreciate it. It wasn’t all good, but I’m here now, and it’s a better place than the twins are at.”
“Thank you, Ryker. That was generous of you.”
“I call it as I see it.”
She nodded, as if closing the door on the conversation. “So your family has no interest in this place anymore.”
“No, ma’am.”
A sharp glance.
“You’re planning to sell it.”
Ryker nodded. “We need the money to keep Dad in the home.”
“The gentleman in the car might be interested.”
Ryker shot a glance at the limousine. He couldn’t imagine anyone riding in a limousine wanting this place, for any reason. It wasn’t a nice summer home for a rich guy from the city.
“However, I should tell you he has no interest in the house, only the property. He’d pull the building down. You’ve worked hard on cleaning it up, so you should know those are his intentions.”
“He’s welcome to blow the place up. If I’d known, I’d have left it as it was.”
That might not be true. He’d cleaned up a lot of ghosts, as well as garbage, while working here.
With help from Rachel. His fiancée. He turned, checking that this wasn’t a dream, and he’d wake up back in the hospital. But no, she was there, eyes smiling at him, letting him decide this. Offering her love and support.
Yeah, he didn’t care about this place at all, not anymore.
Abigail waved at the limo, and the other back door opened. Out stepped a tall man, silver haired, looking wealthy enough to drive everywhere in a limousine. And one who’d never step foot in a house like the one before him.
“Ryker Slade, this is Gerald Van Dalton. Gerry, you’ve met Rachel.”
Ryker held out his hand, examining this stranger.
Van Dalton shook his hand and nodded at Rachel. Then he answered Ryker’s unspoken question.
“Mariah is my granddaughter. She’s spoken of you.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“I’m interested in your property. Abigail promises you won’t change your price based on my plans, but that’s not my usual practice.”
Ryker examined the man. He looked like he might be willing to cut corners to put through a deal. Ryker would have a lawyer check out any offers the man made.
But he did trust Abigail. Or he trusted Rachel, who trusted Abigail.
“The money isn’t coming to me. It’s supporting my father in the home he’s in. I’m ready to walk away from this.”
Van Dalton’s face showed surprise. But when it rested on Abigail Carter, it showed something more.
Interesting. But that was not why Ryker was here.
“Mrs. Carter says you’re only interested in the land. That’s fine by me. You can bulldoze the house or bury it, I don’t care. If it’s a fair offer, I’ll take it.”
There wasn’t exactly a lineup of buyers wanting the place. Not because of his reputation, not anymore, but because this town still needed business to keep people working. People didn’t have money to buy.
“It will be a fair offer. Then the house will be torn down.”
Ryker stared at the house, for what might be the last time. If this man wanted to buy it and demolish it, Ryker wouldn’t need to come out here again.
He was okay with that.
“Good luck with what you’ve planned,” he told the man. It would be good if something came out of this place, out of its history, that would be a positive.
“I’m so not in New York,” the man muttered.
“No, you’re not, Gerry,” Abigail responded.
She turned back to Ryker and Rachel. “Gerry will send his offer to you, Rachel, and you can get one of the lawyers to check it over. It’ll make a lovely small inn and spa. Mariah will be pleased.”
Van Dalton shook his head at her. “Why don’t you just tell everyone all my plans?”
“They already know, or will soon, Gerry. It’s a small town. Now, once we get Mariah and Nelson married, I think my work here is done.”
Ryker didn’t think he was part of this conversation any longer.
“Then what are you planning to do, Abigail?” Van Dalton’s voice was amused.
“Oh, I have ideas.”
“Would you be willing to discuss them, perhaps see if they line up with ideas I have?”
Abigail shrugged. “I’m willing to listen to offers, once things here are settled.”
“Offers, you say.”
Abigail shot him a challenging glance. “Only if it’s a good one.”
Rachel tugged Ryker’s hand, pulling him toward the car. She cast an amused glance at Abigail and Gerry.
“I didn’t believe in Cupid, but I think I do now.” She kept her voice low, for his ears only.
Ryker lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss. He wasn’t going to discount Cupid, not after the miracle of this woman tying herself to him.
Cupid was performing miracles.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Man from Montana by Julianna Morris.
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The Man from Montana
by Julianna Morris
CHAPTER ONE
TESSA ALDERMAN PARKED in the Carson Outdoor Adventures lot and gazed at the rolling hills and snowy mountains beyond. It was so beautiful, she wished a vacation was the only reason she was in Montana.
She flipped down the SUV’s sun visor and felt the familiar drop in her stomach at seeing her twin sister’s picture, which she’d taped next to the mirror.
Renee.
A selfie, taken a few weeks before her death, with a defiant, almost angry look in her dark eyes. But why those particular emotions? Her divorce had been long over and she’d received a cash settlement from her ex, outside of the community-property division. She’d been published. On top of that, she’d just become an associate professor in Renaissance and Gothic art at the private college where she taught, so her career had been on track. Brilliantly on track, as a matter of fact—she’d been the youngest professor in the college’s history.
Then suddenly, Renee had taken a leave of absence and left for an extended vacation in Montana, which was strange, because she’d never liked to travel. Just as strange, the college had believed she was in Europe, doing research to finish her second book. It was the only reason they’d allowed her to take the time when she was so new to her professorship.
Tessa pushed the visor back up and squared her shoulders. She’d searched for answers at Renee’s apartment when she and her parents had cleared it out, wanting to understand what had happened and why, yet she’d just ended up with more questions.
Now, Montana was the only place left to search, and Tessa was afraid there wouldn’t be any answers here, either.
A hotel courtesy van arrived as she got out. Six passengers disembarked and took backpacks from the cargo area. Tessa retrieved her own pack and gauged the weight. According to the information on the Carson Adventures website, a few pounds of food and equipment would be distributed to each person going on the trip. But that wouldn’t be a problem; she’d gone on many hikes in the past that required much heavier packs.
“Hello,” called a man’s voice. “Welcome to the Carson Outdoor Adventures Ranch. I’m Clay. Presuming you’re here for the four-day wilderness hike, I’ll be your guide.”
Tessa gave him a long look.
So that was Clay Carson, owner of the company and the man her twin had supposedly been dating on her extended vacation. He’d also been the guide on the rafting trip when Renee had died.
He was striking, with a strong bone structure, piercing gray eyes and dark brown hair. The image of a rugged outdoorsman. It was easy to see why her twin sister would have been attracted to him, less easy to understand how a woman as shy as Renee would have caught his notice.
Tessa sighed. She missed her sister terribly. Though not identical twins, they had been close, or at least she’d believed they were close until Renee had suddenly left Arizona and started participating in high-risk sports, sending bright little group emails to the family about everything she was doing. It didn’t make sense. As a kid she wouldn’t even jump off a high dive or go horseback riding, so how had she ended up dying in a whitewater rafting accident?
The others members of the group introduced themselves to Clay, and when Tessa didn’t step immediately forward, he turned toward her with an inquiring expression.
“Are you part of my group?” he asked.
“Yes. Tessa Alderman.”
Clay gave her a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Tessa. Everyone, let’s head over to the staging barn. We’ll go over your gear, discuss the guidelines, sign the paperwork and divide up the food and common equipment. Then a company van will take us to the trailhead and you’ll have the next four days to enjoy an incredible wilderness area.”
Though Tessa had mostly backpacked with friends and youth groups, she’d taken a few guided trips and knew the first order of business was getting the liability releases properly signed. But they’d also want to be sure everyone had brought the basics listed on the website.
“Do I really need the tent?” she asked when Clay reached her. She’d laid everything from her pack on the table. The other women had kept their personal items out of sight, but Tessa refused to be coy about the scraps of underwear she’d stowed in ziplock plastic bags.
“I’m afraid so.” A hint of a frown creased his brow. “You’re from Tucson, Arizona, right?”
She tensed. Tessa wasn’t keeping her relationship to Renee a secret...exactly, but she also wasn’t advertising it. However close, they’d been as different as two sisters could be. Not only that, Renee had kept her married name after getting divorced, so it seemed unlikely that Clay Carson would make the connection based on the city where they’d both lived. Actually, not even the same city, since Renee’s apartment had been in a little community outside Tucson.
Also, the accident had happened almost eight months ago. Tessa’s parents hadn’t brought a lawsuit against the company, so unless Clay Carson had been serious about Renee, he’d probably put it in the past. But it wasn’t in the past for her family; Renee’s death was a wound that refused to heal.
“I was born and raised in Arizona,” Tessa said, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. “The main reason I use a tent in the Southwest is to keep scorpions out, and they aren’t too common here, right?”
“That’s right, but the weather can change quickly in this part of the world, so you’ll need to bring it. Is the extra weight a problem?”
“No, I just wondered.” Tessa enjoyed camping and hiking, but she was careful. If a local guide told her a tent was advisable, she’d go along.
She’d researched Carson Outdoor Adventures and their safety record was excellent. Even when she’d called the sheriff’s office to ask about Renee’s accident, she had been assured there was nothing to suggest the guides or equipment were in any way to blame. To the contrary, the guides had gone above and beyond in the effort to rescue her. Yet, however nicely he’d expressed his sympathies, the sheriff’s responses had seemed guarded, as if he was holding something back. So maybe her next step would be requesting a copy of the report.
Surely she was entitled to see it as a member of the family.
Copyright © 2021 by Julianna Morris
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ISBN-13: 9781488074653
A Fourth of July Proposal
Copyright © 2021 by Kim Findlay
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Kim Findlay, A Fourth of July Proposal
