Memories: A Husband to Remember\New Year's Daddy (Hqn) (40 page)

For a fraction of a second, he smiled as if he enjoyed her precocious question, then glanced at Ronni, caught her eye and snapped the earphone back in place. Anger twisted his mouth and he ignored Amy, whose smile melted from her tiny face. Lower lip trembling, she wound her way back through stacks of luggage to take her place by Ronni. “Why does he hate me?” she asked, clinging to Ronni’s leg.

“He doesn’t.”

“Yes—”

“No, honey.” Ronni dropped her carry-on piece of luggage to the sidewalk as a jet roared overhead. Picking up her daughter, she sighed and hugged Amy. “It’s not you he has a problem with.”

“He’s mean sometimes. Just like Kurt.”

“Because he’s hurting inside. You just keep being nice to him and it’ll all work out. Now, don’t you worry about Bryan for a while. We’ve got some puppies who are going to be mighty glad to see you.”

Amy’s face brightened and she wiggled to the ground just as Travis’s Jeep rounded the corner.

The ride back home was slow and tedious. Along with the usual crush of vacationers on the road, enthusiastic skiers were heading to the mountain as seven inches of new snow had fallen in the Cascades over the weekend. The roads were icy and treacherous, with snowplows and sanding crews unable to keep up with the dropping temperature and increased snowfall.

“Looks like a good night to build a fire and curl up on the couch with a glass of wine.”

“Mmm,” Ronni agreed, glancing at the backseat where both Bryan and Amy had fallen asleep. Bryan’s head was propped against the window and Amy had slumped against him, her forehead touching his sleeve. “I’d feel a lot better if I could talk to Shelly.”

“You could try using the cell.”

“No, I’ll wait. We’re almost home.”

“That we are, Mrs. Keegan,” he said with a smile. “That we are.”

They stopped at Ronni’s house and a groggy Amy collected the pups while Ronni gathered a few more clothes and Travis and Bryan fed the horses.

Again Ronni tried to reach her sister and this time her brother-in-law answered. “Oh, Ronni,” he said in a voice that was flat and lifeless. “How was the trip?”

“Fine, fine, I’m a married woman now,” she said brightly, though the serious tone in Victor’s voice was enough to scare her to death. “I tried to call a couple of times but no one answered.”

“We were at the hospital,” he admitted.

Ronni’s heart plummeted. “The hospital?”

“That’s right. Look, Shelly’s not in the best of shape right now. She’s home and physically she’s gonna be fine, the doctor assured her that she could still have more kids but...”

“Oh, my God,” Ronni whispered, clutching the receiver and bracing herself against the refrigerator.

“Yeah,” he said, and his voice cracked a little. “She lost the baby.”

* * *

“You go home,” Shelly admonished, squeezing Ronni’s hand. She was lying in bed, her face drawn, the sparkle missing from her eyes as Vic and the boys watched television in the living room. “You’re a new bride and you need to be with your husband—keep celebrating your honeymoon.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Not silly, just practical,” Shelly said with a weak smile that didn’t add any life to eyes that were puffy and red-rimmed from tears. “I’m going to be fine. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days, but I’m not bedridden and I should bounce back in no time.”

“But...I feel so bad.” Ronni sniffed to keep from crying.

“We all do, and even though I’ve got two healthy, wonderful boys, this was...well, a loss. I just have to think of it that way and get over it.” Dragging her gaze away from Ronni’s, she cleared her throat. A tear gathered in the corner of her eye, but she quickly dashed it away with a finger. “I’m going to be fine. It’ll just take a little time to get used to...” A long, heavy sigh escaped her. “Oh, damn, maybe I’ll never get over it.”

“You will.”

“I hope. The good news is that Victor wants to try again—can you believe it, after his reaction when he learned I was pregnant?” She gave a short, brittle little laugh. “He’s come around and wants another baby.”

“Of course he does.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it, but then he was out of work and now, thanks to Travis, he feels better. They’ve talked, you know, about him staying on after the work on the house is finished, and about fixing up the old caretaker’s house for us. Travis said that Vic could either be a caretaker of the grounds like Dad was or he could work for Travis’s company in some capacity—I don’t know exactly what, the vice president in Seattle sent Vic some information...it’s there, I think, on the bureau.” She waved at a small stack of papers tucked behind her jewelry box. “I guess you married a millionaire.”

“Maybe,” Ronni said, embarrassed that she didn’t have a clue as to Travis’s holdings, that she didn’t really care. She realized he had money, of course, and plenty of it, but she hadn’t worried about how much and he hadn’t bothered with a prenuptial agreement.

“No maybes about it—your husband is loaded.” Shelly sighed dramatically. “It would be nice, but then again, money isn’t everything.” Tears filled her eyes once more as she absently touched her belly, but she pressed the silent drops back into her eyes. “Have you found that stuff yet?”

Ronni picked up the brochures and typed pages introducing Victor Pederson to TRK, Incorporated. Along with employee information, there were advertising sheets and lists of products with a letter of introduction signed by Wendall Holmes.

Ronni’s heart nearly stopped.

Wendall Holmes!

She swallowed and stared at the signature. So bold. So precise. So damned familiar. “Oh, God,” she whispered. She’d heard the name Wendall and once Travis had said something about Holmes, but she hadn’t, until this very minute, put two and two together to get four.

“What?” Shelly sat straighter in the bed.

For a second, her vision blurred and she was sure that she’d made a mistake, she couldn’t be reading the same name that had signed so many letters, but no matter how often she blinked, each time she looked at the letter, the name and the signature remained the same. Wendall Holmes.

“I’ve talked to this man before,” she said, and her voice seemed disembodied, as if it belonged to another person in another time.

“Where? How?”

“Wendall Holmes was the vice president in charge of consumer relations for SkiWest,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Oh, Ronni, no.” Shelly bit her lip.

“He was the guy I was writing to about Hank’s equipment.” The brochures balling in her fist, she sank onto the corner of Shelly’s bed. “Those bindings...they were SkiWest 450’s. Travis’s company manufactured them.”

“You don’t know that,” Shelly said, reaching forward and clasping Ronni’s arm. “Holmes could have changed companies—”

Ronni shook her head. “No, I asked about him once. Travis told me they’ve worked together for years.” Pain cracked through her heart and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

“Let it go,” Shelly advised.

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“Hank died, Shelly! He died!” Ronni said, shooting to her feet and reaching for the doorknob, but Shelly’s silent, sad gaze held her in the room. “I can’t just forget it.”

“You have to put it aside.”

“But he’s dead.”

Shelly’s eyes lost all of their sparkle. “So is my baby, Ronni.”

* * *

Travis drove the last nail into the new railing of the back porch. Bryan, against his better judgment, was helping out, using a square and a level, making sure that his father’s work was precise. Ronni was visiting her sister and Amy was napping inside. “Better, don’t you think?” Travis asked as he stepped away from the porch and looked at the bare fir two by twos.

A table saw screamed in the garage where Vic had set up shop and was cutting lengths for the next section of the rail. The old, sagging wood had already been hauled to the pile behind the garage and it was Bryan’s job to take out all the old nails and stack the used lumber in the kindling pile. “It’s okay.”

“Just okay? Not terrific?”

Bryan stared sullenly at him. “Okay, it’s terrific. Feel better?”

Travis’s temper was already stretched thin. He hated walking on eggshells around his son and decided that it was now or never—time for another father-son showdown. “Are you going to tell me what’s eating you or do I have to guess?”

“Whad’ya mean?” Bryan grabbed his hammer and tried to wiggle nails out of a piece of old railing.

“You’ve been in a bad mood since we moved here and every time things improve and I think you’re settling in, we take a backspin.”

The boy’s jaw tightened. “So?”

This wasn’t going to be easy. Travis straightened and rubbed the kinks from the small of his back. Frowning, he eyed the sky, a storm had been predicted, a big one with the promise of high winds and more snow. Already the tops of the taller trees were moving with the breeze. “You aren’t very friendly to Ronni.”

No answer. Another nail squeaked as Bryan yanked it out of the rotting wood.

“You know she’s been nothing but nice to you. First she gets you down the mountain when you hurt yourself, then she offers to teach you to ski and now she’s given you one of her horses. She’s bent over backward to be friendly to you and all you’ve done in response is give her the cold shoulder.”

“Big deal.”

“That’s right. It is. A very big deal. I assume you’re not happy that I married her.”

“What does it matter what I think?”

“A lot, Bryan.”

“You didn’t even ask me,” his son mumbled, reaching for another rail. “You marry her and don’t even ask me.”

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“Don’t I count?” Bryan wanted to know.

“Of course.”

“And my opinion, too, right? That’s what Ronni said.”

“Yes, but—”

“Then what was all this talk about you and me being a family, huh? Just the two of us.” In anger, Bryan threw the rail into the woods. “Was that all a bunch of baloney?”

“No, but—”

“What did we need her and her stupid little girl for? All they’re gonna do is mess things up...” His voice trailed off and he looked away sharply. Travis heard a gasp and turned to find Amy standing in the partially open doorway. The puppy was in her arms and her face was twisted in silent agony.

“Amy,” Travis said, but she ran away, the puppy yipping wildly. Travis turned on his son. “What were you thinking?” he demanded.

“You wanted to know,” his son said. “I just told you what I thought.”

“You hurt her feelings!”

“Yeah, well, you hurt mine.” Bryan tossed another rail into the rapidly growing pile, and Travis, muttering under his breath, hurried into the house.

“Amy! Amy!” he called, walking through the lower level and up the stairs. If it weren’t for the barking on the upper floor and the sound of dog toenails digging into wood, he might not have found her huddled in some old blankets on the floor of a closet in the attic.

“He hates me!” she said when Travis located her and the two dogs.

“He’s just confused. Come here.”

“Bryan,” she said, her little jaw quivering. “He hates me.”

“He’s just not used to things the way they are right now.”

“He’s mean!”

“He’s not trying to be.” Travis gathered her into his arms and held her close. The dogs scrambled out of the closet and ran in circles through the pine-walled room. “This is hard for Bryan, too, honey. Being a new family isn’t easy.”

“I thought we were supposed to love each other.” Crystal-like tears tracked down her face. She began to sob.

“We do all love each other, but sometimes...sometimes people inadvertently hurt the ones they love. They don’t mean to, they’re just shortsighted.”

She sniffed loudly and the smallest dog bounded onto her lap to wash her face with her long tongue. Amy couldn’t resist and giggled wildly. Travis’s heart warmed at the sound and he wondered how he’d lived his life without hearing the happy ring of her childish laughter. One step at a time, he told himself, one step and one day at a time. “Come on, short stuff, let’s take the mutts outside.”

The lights flickered and Amy let out a whimper.

Travis hugged her. “Don’t worry.”

“Ghosts,” she said, shivering.

“Just the wind, honey. Let’s find some candles and kerosene lanterns in case the electricity decides to give out.”

She carried the small puppy, he carried her and Rex bounded along behind as they made their way down to the main floor. Bryan, flopped on the couch and staring at the television, glanced their way and his eyes darkened in silent fury.

“I think we’d better scrounge up some flashlights,” Travis suggested, but his son didn’t budge. “Bryan?”

“Yeah?”

“You know where the flashlights are?”

“Yeah.”

“Then find one before we lose power.”

Bryan rolled his eyes, shot Amy a look that could kill and sauntered to his bedroom. Whistling to the dogs, Travis carried Amy outside and into the garage where Vic was just putting away his tools.

“Better get home,” he said half-apologetically. “Shelly isn’t happy when we don’t have power.”

“Don’t blame her.”

“But I’m leavin’ early—”

“Doesn’t matter. The weather service seems to think we’re in for the storm of all storms, so you’d better get home before it breaks.”

“Kind of ya,” Victor said. “I’ll be in early tomorrow.” He unbuckled his tool belt and rumpled Amy’s hair.

“Don’t worry about it.” Travis slid a glance to the slate-colored sky. Dark clouds skudded over the tops of the highest trees and snow had begun to fall in tiny, hard flakes. Victor turned his collar against the wind and strode to his truck. Still holding Amy, Travis watched him leave and hoped that Ronni would return home soon.

Thank God she wasn’t on ski-patrol duty today. Against the horizon and through the thickening snowflakes, Mount Echo loomed like a specter, tall and dark and threatening. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said, bundling Amy into the kitchen and calling for the dogs. The puppy, scared of the rising wind, didn’t need any encouragement. She dashed through the drifting snow and scurried up the slick steps.

Rex, still sniffing trees in the forest, was more difficult to corral, but eventually he followed.