Sanctuary Island (28 page)

“Was he right?”

At her voice, Jo dropped the bag again and pivoted, dismay written all over her face. “Ella!”

Unable to stay still, Ella paced closer, her hands clasped around her elbows, fingers digging in. “Harrison. I knew you’d been together, off and on, but … He asked you to marry him?”

Jo’s eyes closed briefly, a spasm of pain tightening her mouth. But her gaze was clear when she met Ella’s stare. “He did.”

“And you turned him down, because of us.” Ella could hardly take it in.

“There were a lot of factors,” Jo hedged, as if she wanted to keep Ella from feeling guilty.

Ella shook her head. “But he said he’d asked you other times. Before the debt?”

She waited for Jo’s reluctant nod before asking again, “So was he right? Was it just an excuse? Were we your easy way out of a marriage proposal you didn’t want?”

Shivers ran through her as she posed the question, and part of her couldn’t believe how much the answer mattered to her. Especially when she was almost certain she knew what Jo was about to say.

Jo stood silent for a long beat. Ella saw the moment her mother decided to tell her the truth.

“No.” Jo tipped up her chin. “I love him. I want to be with him. But sometimes that’s not enough. And sometimes rushing to grab what you want means you lose out on what really matters.”

Ella heard what Jo wasn’t saying. She and Merry—they were what mattered to their mother. Them, and her own self-respect. And Jo was willing to deny herself what she wanted, even though Ella could see how deeply it hurt her.

“I told Grady I believe people can change.” Ella had to force the words out of her tight, scratchy throat. “But the truth is, I didn’t want to believe that about you, because that would mean I’d have to leave room for the possibility of forgiving you.”

Jo’s eyes went wide. “Honey, no. I’m not trying to guilt you into anything.”

“I know that.” Ella shook her head, a little amazed at herself. “I really know it. Which must mean…”

“What?”

Ella could feel the surprise on her own face as she gazed at the woman she’d sworn never to believe in again. “I think it means I want to forgive you.”

Something fragile came into Jo’s eyes, incongruous and wrong in that strong-boned face. “Ella. You don’t have to. I know what I was like. Your father…” Her throat worked. “He was right to take you away. Some things are unforgivable.”

“Maybe,” Ella said slowly. “But regardless, I don’t want to be the kind of person who’s so closed off and afraid of being hurt that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.”

As if she couldn’t help herself, Jo made a motion toward Ella, her tanned arms lifting slightly. But she stopped still, and Ella knew she’d have to be the one to make the first move.

It was harder than it should’ve been, after everything that had happened in the last few weeks, but as she stepped into the circle of her mother’s arms and felt them close around her for the first time in fifteen years, Ella knew a moment like this couldn’t be rushed.

Emotion clogged her throat, wanting to push out of her mouth as a sob, or maybe a laugh—everything was jumbled up inside her. But she forced herself to stay put, to let the feelings wash over her and through her, and to return her mother’s hug until her heartbeat slowed back to something resembling normal.

She pulled away, and Jo let her go reluctantly. Sniffling, Ella gave her a watery smile and said, “About the rest of what you and Harrison were discussing.”

Jo seemed to read the plea for a return to less emotional topics in Ella’s eyes. “My debt to Mr. Leeds. You knew about that already.”

“I’ve been working on some changes to the proposal I gave you before.” Unaccountably nervous, Ella had to struggle not to fidget. “I’d like to go over it with you again. And maybe with Harrison, too, since he mentioned wanting to know the details?”

“He’s really the one to convince,” Jo agreed.

“That we have a viable enough moneymaking idea to warrant a loan,” Ella said, nodding firmly. “To cover the lien and save Windy Corner.”

Jo covered her eyes with one hand, mouth trembling.

Alarmed, Ella said, “Are you okay?”

Blowing out a breath, Jo lowered her hand to show blue eyes brimming with tears. “More than okay. You said ‘we.’ It’s a little thing. I know it doesn’t mean anything, but…”

Understanding warmed Ella all the way through to her bones. “No, it does mean something.”

It still felt strange, but somehow right, to reach out and lay a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “We’re in this together. Windy Corner is part of my history, too, and Merry’s. We’re going to help you keep it.”

The dawning joy on Jo’s face bolstered Ella’s courage. It almost made up for how nervous she was at the prospect of finally letting Grady in on her big idea. As soon as she got confirmation from the bank that her plan had merit, she’d figure out the right place and time to tell him.

But as she grabbed one of the feed bags from the back of Jo’s truck and followed her mother into the barn with it, Ella realized she had hope.

She actually hoped she might have figured out a way to have it all.

CHAPTER 27

The knock on his front door had Grady cursing and flinging soapy water all over the kitchen counter before he unearthed a dish towel to dry off with.

The old Fortress of Solitude wasn’t quite as impregnable as it used to be, pre-Ella, but it wasn’t exactly Union Station.

Frowning, Grady ducked down the hallway, wondering who it could be. Ella had told him she had a business meeting this morning, so he assumed she was still out at her mom’s house. He grinned, picturing her on her little cell phone headset, wheeling and dealing long distance.

Heck, if that worked, if she could run her business from here—maybe she’d see her way clear to staying on Sanctuary for good. Things between them had been so amazing since she extended her trip, Grady couldn’t help but want more.

He opened his door and felt his eyebrows shoot up at the sight of his young cousin bouncing on the balls of her sneaker-clad feet.

Taylor slapped a manila folder impatiently against the wooden door frame. “I know you don’t like people to stop by without calling first,” she said, pushing past him and into the living room. “But this is an emergency.”

Grady watched her pace the perimeter of the striped rag rug he’d picked up at the craft fair in the square last summer. Taylor wasn’t a calm, easy girl on the best of days—she registered at about a twelve out of ten on the overreaction scale, and she had a well-developed, if understandable, tendency toward melodrama.

Whatever had spun her up this morning must be a lulu, Grady mused, taking in the hectic flush on her cheeks and the haphazard mess of her dark blond hair. “What now?”

“Don’t do that.” She pointed at him, never stopping in her quest to wear a path around the rug. “Don’t ‘what now’ me. Not until you hear what I just found out.”

Grady kept his eyes from rolling through a heroic exertion of will. “So tell me.”

After a thrilling pause, Taylor brandished the folder she’d brought with her like a lawyer in a movie presenting a winning closing argument. “Your little girlfriend is a bitch.”

“Watch your mouth,” he growled, feeling the hackles rise at the nape of his neck. Damn it, he knew Taylor was having a hard time of it lately, but he wasn’t going to let anyone talk about Ella like that.

Righteous indignation burned in Taylor’s narrowed glare. “Oh, she has everyone fooled. You’re completely whipped and useless, and now she’s got Jo walking around like she won the lottery, just because Miss Perfect Ella deigns to speak to her. But it’s all a lie.”

Anger spiked through his confusion and sharpened his voice. “No, it’s not. You don’t know Ella—you haven’t even tried to get to know her or Merry. You don’t understand how much it’s cost Ella to be here, to give Jo a chance.”

You don’t understand what she’s given me.

Taylor’s mouth pulled down in a grimace, but it was the pity in her tone that roughed a chill down Grady’s spine. “I hate to be the one to break it to you—I honestly do. But Ella’s presence on the island is going to cost all of us, everyone who loves Sanctuary and wants to keep it the way it is.”

“Explain.”

“I don’t have to.” She held up the folder. “See for yourself.”

Feeling stupidly as if he were asking for a punch in the face, Grady held out a hand. With an air of vindication, Taylor forked over the folder and crossed her arms over her chest.

Trying to convince himself this was going to turn out to be Taylor throwing a hissy fit, Grady opened the file.

His heart stopped.

A page fluttered free of the folder, and he bent slowly to pick it up off the rug. It was a color image, a picture of Jo’s house all fixed up, looking remarkably similar to the vision he had in his head of how it would be after he finished the repairs. But out front, next to the paved circular drive, was a sign that spelled out
WINDY CORNER BED & BREAKFAST
in fancy curlicue letters.

“Jo called me last night, and we talked. I was ready to admit maybe I’d been a little sulky and unfriendly, whatever, so I went out to the barn this morning. But no one was there. And I found
that
in Jo’s office,” Taylor said, sounding more subdued. He could only imagine what the look on his face was telling her.

He didn’t even know how he felt, what to do or say other than to look through the rest of the papers in the folder. Profit-and-loss projections, sample promotional materials, speculation on Sanctuary Island’s potential as a tourist destination.

It was laid out in black and white, real and undeniable. Proof that Ella had come to the island looking to make money off her mother’s recent inheritance.

Proof that she didn’t understand anything he’d told her about what made Sanctuary so special—or that she didn’t care.

Evidently, she didn’t care about much beyond turning a profit.

Dropping the folder as if it were covered in manure, Grady moved blindly in the direction of the cabinet in the corner and found the bottle of bourbon collecting dust in the bottom cupboard.

Glass? No. The kitchen was too far away. Twisting the cap off, he took a slug, eyes watering at the burn.

“So you didn’t know.” Taylor’s voice was muffled through the ringing in Grady’s ears. “I wondered.”

He snorted, took another drink. “No.”

“I wanted to ask Jo about it—I actually went to the house to confront her,” Taylor said, crouching to gather the pages back into the folder. “But she wasn’t around.”

A prickle of foreboding pierced through the fog of betrayal and disappointment clouding Grady’s brain. “Did you see Merry when you were out at the barn or at the house?”

Taylor frowned up at him. “Nope.”

Merry, Jo, and Ella were all missing—and Ella had told him she had a business meeting. Wetting his suddenly dry mouth with another swallow of bourbon, Grady rasped, “Call your father. Right now.”

Whatever Taylor saw on his face convinced her not to argue. Whipping out her cell phone, she pressed a button and held it up to her ear for several seconds. “No answer. Which is weird—he always picks up for me, unless he’s in a bank meeting.”

“It’s Saturday.” Grady’s head was swimming. He told himself it was the bourbon, and set the bottle down on the coffee table. “Does he work on Saturdays, usually?”

Taylor shook her head. “Only for special clients.”

Thunder grumbled in the distance as Grady cursed, low and vicious.

Taylor’s eyes got big. “Oh crap,” she faltered. “You don’t think—”

“Get in the truck.” He tossed her the keys. “I need you to drive me to the bank.”

“Yes!” Taylor snatched the keys out of the air with a nimbleness Grady couldn’t hope to match right now.

He felt gutted, split wide open and scoured raw. His head spun ceaselessly, a sickening whirl of
she wouldn’t she did can’t believe but I trusted her believed in her loved
—

Cutting the thought off with a savage snarl, Grady hurled himself into the passenger seat and hung on to the one thought that burned bright and clear in his brain.

He had to stop this before it was too late.

The drive into town felt interminable, even though he knew Taylor was pushing the limits of legality on speed the whole way.

A fat drop of rain splatted against the windshield, then another.

“Slow down,” he told Taylor again, peering through the windshield at the dark gray sky. These late-spring storms came up fast, and they could turn the unpaved back roads into treacherous mud slicks in minutes.

Finally, they reached the white-painted brick building with the covered wraparound porch that housed the bank. And whatever hope Grady had held out died a swift, painful death.

Uncle Harrison’s big black SUV was parked in its usual spot, and right beside it was Jo’s battered blue pickup truck.

Taylor parked just as the sky opened up. Rain pelted down furiously and the wind picked up, whipping the
HEART OF SANCTUARY
banner that arced over Main Street.

“Stay in the truck,” he told her.

Shooting him an incredulous look, Taylor opened her door and hopped out, holding the folder over her head to shield her face from the driving rain.

Grady didn’t bother cursing again. It wasn’t making him feel any better. Shoving out of the Jeep, he was soaked in seconds as he ran up the front steps of the bank to take shelter under the overhanging porch roof.

“Guess there’s no point telling you not to come in with me,” Grady said, bracing one hand against the bank door.

“You guessed right,” Taylor told him.

Surrendering to the inevitable, Grady pushed inside the bank lobby. Violet Harvey, the lone bank teller working the counter, raised her pale brows and pushed her cat-eye glasses up her nose.

“Oh,” she said in the vague, dreamy way that had given her a local reputation for ditziness. “Is it raining?”

Grady looked down at the puddle collecting under his boots.

Apparently deciding they didn’t have the time or patience for stupid questions, Taylor ignored Violet and towed Grady toward the back of the lobby and down the hall toward her father’s office.