High-Stakes Inheritance

“My father? You saw him?” Watery eyes fixed on his as she ripped out a tissue. Ryan nodded.

“I told him about the letter and that I believed he was behind the fire.” She hiccupped and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “He didn’t deny it.”

Not as bad as Ryan had imagined from her over-the-top reaction. “He didn’t admit to doing anything. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“No! Even if he didn’t do it,” she sniffed, “he clearly wants nothing to do with me.”

So this is what set her off. Not her father’s guilt, but his rejection. This wasn’t a topic they could resolve in a short conversation, and Ryan didn’t think he could offer anything new after all these years. He could sidestep the rejection and focus on the fire. Then maybe she’d be open to telling Russ about the letter and look for other suspects.

Ryan shifted on the edge of the bed. “Sounds to me like you really don’t believe your father’s behind all of this.”

She blew her nose and set the tissue on her lap. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I can’t imagine he’d hire an arsonist, but he’s the most logical candidate.”

She was right. There was no other obvious suspect, but Ryan had to plant doubt in her mind to get her moving forward. “Think about it, Mia. Would your father really commit a criminal act and risk going to jail just to get you to leave town?”

She pulled out another tissue. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but who else would’ve done it? David is the only one who would benefit if I left.”

“In my opinion he’s a less likely suspect than your father. He’s as close to a model citizen as they come. Plus he seems to be doing well financially.”

“I agree and that’s why the more I think about him the more I rule him out.” She sighed and twisted the tissue in her fingers. “It has to be my father.”

Her agonizing expression left Ryan feeling helpless. He had no idea how to figure out the identity of the arsonist but he could offer his support.

He clasped her hand. “No matter who did this, I’m here to help you through it.”

Her eyes lingered on his face. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me since I’ve gotten here.” She released a shuddering breath. “I’m thankful for everything you’ve done. Saving me at the barn and all. Really, I am. Not that you could tell. All I’ve done is repay you with harsh words.”

“I hurt you. I deserve your anger.”

She worked her lower lip and went silent for so long he thought she might have changed her mind about engaging in this conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Now?”

She nodded. “I can’t leave until the nurse discharges me. We might as well make good use of the time.”

This was what he wanted, but now that it was time to talk, he didn’t have a clue how to start. He’d always hoped she’d forgive him, but she might not. What if she didn’t? What happened then?

“Ryan?” she said softly, and offered a nod of encouragement.

“Right, high school.” He shifted on the bed. “So if we hadn’t broken up that night what do you think would’ve happened between us?”

Her eyes widened.

He’d caught her by surprise. “This isn’t a test or anything to see how you felt. Just a question.”

“Well, you’d already started college. My grades weren’t good enough to get into Reed, so I would have gone to a community college or gotten a job so we could live close to each other.”

He’d thought along the same lines. “And then…when I graduated, we’d get married and live happily ever after here in Logan Lake, right?”

“Something like that.”

“And that’s why I arranged for you to find me kissing Sheila and made you think I had something going on with her.” He clamped his hand on the back of his neck and looked down to hide his embarrassment over the dumb decision he was about to explain. “You were so unhappy under your father’s control. It was getting worse by the day. You wanted out of here more than anything except being with me.” He looked up to gauge her reaction.

She met his gaze with clear green eyes that encouraged him to continue.

“I couldn’t let you stay here and live under your father’s thumb. You had to go out in the world and find out who you were without your father harping at you for everything. If you knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, you would have settled here.” He sighed heavily. “But if I made you think I didn’t want to be with you anymore you’d run to Wally in Atlanta, which is exactly what you did.”

He prayed for understanding. “And look at you. My gosh, just look at you. You’re not working in some dead-end job with three kids and a loathing for your husband because he kept you here. You came back here strong and independent. Able to stand up to your father. A professional counselor respected by your peers.”

She sat unmoving, her eyes fixed on his face. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. He didn’t know how to respond. Were these tears of forgiveness or tears of loss? He reached out a thumb and swiped them away.

When she didn’t pull away, a nervous laugh escaped his throat. “And now this is the part where you forgive me for hurting you because you realize I did what I did because I loved you.”

She sniffed and ever so slightly nodded. “You had a good reason, and for that I can forgive you. But that doesn’t erase the hurt. It’ll take time for me to forget how it felt.”

He reached out to take her in his arms but let his hands fall. He wanted to hold her until her tears stopped again, but he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t risk reconnecting as they had in high school. Couldn’t risk caring for her again. She’d nearly died and this nightmare wasn’t over. She was still in danger. If the man who set fire to the barn wanted to hurt her, Ryan wasn’t sure he could stop him. Loss of Cara had proven his limitations.

SIX

Wishing she’d known about the condition of Ryan’s truck before she accepted a ride, Mia sat back as they rumbled down the winding country road to the rattling of soda cans on the floor. Flies had succumbed to the quicksand of dust and grime on the dashboard, and cracks populated the seat with tufts of stuffing eager to escape. Redressed in her fire-ravaged clothes, Mia matched the interior, but not Ryan.

Today he wore an emerald shirt highlighting his dark coloring, and coordinating perfectly with heavy brown corduroys and rough hiking boots. He had a day’s or more worth of stubble on his lean face, and as he climbed into the truck, a hesitant, little-boy-lost look had crossed his face and made it hard to keep her eyes off him.

Or was it the fact that he’d had a sound explanation for hurting her, and she’d finally forgiven him? But would she ever let go of the pain of his betrayal and learn to trust a man again? Was Ryan what he seemed or did he really have his own agenda—wanting to take over her life and control her?

Last night as she tried to fall asleep in the noisy hospital, her thoughts kept drifting back to the ambulance ride and his loving expression as he answered Jessie’s questions and calmed her fears, much as he’d comforted her after her father’s many rampages. Then she had to go and dream about Ryan.

Not just him, but them as a couple again, married and with a family. The whole American dream wrapped up in a neat little package. Two children, living in the big lodge at Pinetree, and of course a dog frolicking around the place. Foolish, but she liked it.

She glanced at his strong profile. How could she spend day after day working alongside him and not wonder what their life would have been like if they’d never broken up?

He slowed the truck at Pinetree’s driveway and glanced her way. “You thinking about the fire again?”

She wasn’t about to admit the truth so she lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

He seemed to buy her vague response as an affirmation and clicked on the blinker. “I don’t have to tell you people who survive an experience like a fire often start to ponder the meaning of life and why they were spared. I’m not sure how you stand on God these days, but He can help you through this if you turn to Him.”

She swiveled toward Ryan so fast her hair slapped her face. “You’ve embraced religion?”

His lips tipped in the briefest of smiles. “I turned my life over to God a few years ago if that’s what you mean.”

She peered past him and out the window. Here she was fantasizing over getting back together with him, and he clearly wasn’t the same person she’d known in high school. Back then, he’d have scoffed at anything religious. Now he was spouting the stuff.

“Mia.” He laid a calloused hand on her arm. “Would you mind if I tell you how my faith helped me get through some tough times?”

She shook her head. “That’s the last thing I need right now. God keeps taking away the people I love most, and I haven’t the stomach to think about Him.”

“That’s not how it is, Mi—”

“I said no to this sermon, all right?” She sent a stony gaze his way.

He responded with a flush of hurt, but she kept quiet.

Religion or God or whatever Ryan wanted to call things did not help her. She’d tried that. Until her mom died and her father ignored her. Then God ceased to exist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan blow out a deep breath. His knuckles tightened on the wheel, turning white then slowly returning to healthy pink.

Something inside her begged to comfort him, to take back her comment, to reach out and touch his arm to end the silence. To return the carefree guy from before this conversation, but she held herself in check and gazed out the side window. No good would come from revisiting her stance on God.

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