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Not that he was happy Caroline was dead. Of course not. He wasn’t made of stone. And she was actually a nice woman. Tough. He liked that about her. When her parents had passed, they left some debt, which came as a surprise to Mrs. Rosberg. She didn’t want to sell the inn, but the debt was too much for her to handle, and he’d given her a very fair offer. To his surprise, she’d counter-offered, agreeing to split the inn into two parts: waterfront and water view. Cross wanted it all, but he decided to take what he could, and so bought the water view property. Over the years, he’d given her several offers for the waterfront piece, but the response had always been a resounding “no.” He kept trying. She kept saying no. And much as she drove him crazy by steadfastly refusing any offer he might put forth, he had to admire her moxie. Not many people refused Arnold Cross. No. Scratch that. Not many people refused Arnold Cross’s
money
. That was a more accurate statement. Those who said money couldn’t buy happiness obviously never had any.

Cross scrolled back into his memory banks to come up with what he knew about Emerson Rosberg. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He had never lived in Lake Henry, so he wasn’t around during her heyday, but there had been enough stories for him to get the gist. The daughter of prominent international downhill Swedish ski champion Fredrik Rosberg, Emerson was being groomed to follow in daddy’s footsteps. And she was good. She had the makings to go all the way to the Olympics and more. She was a natural. And her good looks didn’t hurt. Once she was too old to ski competitively, a career in sports casting would have been easy. She was tall, blonde, stunning; she’d have been a lock. Once upon a time, Emerson Rosberg was the poster child for downhill skiing…this would have been what? Ten, twelve years ago? Lake Henry was the perfect place for somebody like her to grow up. With its variety of ski slopes and home to dozens of important races—plus its never-ending bid to host a winter Olympics—she got the best training, had the best places to practice her craft right in her own back yard.

Cross didn’t know much about what happened. All he had were the stories people had told him and articles he’d read. Apparently, Emerson had taken a final run down a slope in terrible weather conditions. There was no race, no crowd, no coaches. She was on her own, had been practicing, took a run, and wiped out. Badly. Shredded the insides of her knee so severely that after several surgeries to repair it, it had to be completely replaced. That was it. That’s all it took. One poor judgment call. Career over at barely nineteen years old.

She left town after that. Cross heard Los Angeles. Clear across the country to a city that never gets snow. Emerson Rosberg obviously wanted to get as far away from Lake Henry and downhill skiing as possible. She was back now, but Cross would lay odds that she didn’t want to stay long, and that she was itching to get back to the city where everybody was beautiful and nobody was real.

A grin spread across his face as he took a bottled water from the mini fridge and cracked the cap open with a twist. If he was right about Ms. Rosberg, and she wanted to get the hell out of Lake Henry as soon as possible, negotiations should be a piece of cake. He’d call her lawyer first thing Monday morning and set up a meeting.

Never a man to sit idly by and do nothing (that wasn’t how you made money), he popped open his laptop and began crunching numbers. With property values still rebounding and the work that would need to be done on both the inn as well as the rental, he would be in darn good shape to make a nice, tidy profit on this deal.

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“
That was easy,” Cassie
commented as Emerson plopped into the passenger’s seat. Carrie Underwood sang softly from the stereo, and the interior of the car smelled like vanilla and lavender, and Emerson tried to be subtle about breathing it in. Gordie stuck his head between the seats and proceeded to lick Emerson’s face. She patted at him absently. “Okay, bubs,” Cassie admonished him. “Lie down.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad,” Emerson said. “Do you want me to drive?”

“Nah.” Cassie waved her off as she put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “You just drove three hours.”

Emerson squinted at her. “Um…so did you.”

Cassie chuckled. “That’s true. I don’t mind driving. If I get tired, I’ll tell you.” With a glance at Emerson’s skeptical expression, she held up a hand. “Promise.”

They drove for several miles in silence before Gordie decided to venture more affection. He put his head almost on Emerson’s shoulder, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the move.

“Oh, you are smooth, aren’t you, buddy?” she asked, scratching his head.

“He’s definitely a ladies’ man,” Cassie said.

“How old is he?”

“Almost four.”

“He goes everywhere with you?”

“Just about. He loves people. He gets lonely if I leave him alone too long. He mans the store with me. He goes to my parents’ house with me.”

“I was kind of surprised not to see him running with you.”

Cassie nodded. “Yeah, we tried that for a while. He always wants to be with me, but he didn’t really seem to be enjoying it. I always cringe when I see somebody running and they’re practically dragging their dog along. I didn’t want to be that person. So he stays home when I run and seems much happier for it.”

“And where does his name come from?”

Cassie gave a mock gasp and pressed a hand to her chest in feigned insult. “You don’t know?”

Emerson arched one eyebrow, which made Cassie laugh.

“Gordie Howe? Also known as Mr. Hockey?”

“Figures.”

“Hey. He is arguably the greatest hockey player of all time.”

“Better than Wayne Gretzky?” Emerson asked, doubtful.

“Arguably,” Cassie repeated. “There is many a debate on the Internet.”

“Well.” Emerson gave Gordie her full face and got bathed in kisses in return. “I think the name kind of suits him.”

“I agree with you.” They grew quiet again and drove along, Emerson relaxing. Idle chatter and small talk were not her favorite things, and despite Cassie being pleasant company, she preferred the silence. She spared a glance at Cassie out of the corner of her eye. Whatever she wore, she always looked casually comfortable, but not sloppy. Today, she’d chosen a simple pair of black yoga pants and a royal blue long-sleeved shirt with a hood. A black down vest served as a barrier against the increasingly chilly weather. Her hair was down today, something Emerson didn’t see often, but immediately liked, the dark brown of it sleek and shiny in the afternoon light. And she had a great profile. Emerson wondered at that thought, but it was true, what with her smooth skin, softly defined chin, gently sloping nose, full lips… Inhaling quietly, Emerson could smell the unique vanilla scent that seemed to follow Cassie wherever she went.

Settling into her seat more deeply, Emerson felt peaceful and surprisingly comfortable considering she was cooped up in a car with somebody she didn’t know well. She chose not to analyze why this was.

Soon, Cassie spoke. “So, how long do you think you’ll stay?”

Emerson pressed her lips together for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“You keep saying that,” Cassie pointed out. “You must have a great boss.”

“I did,” Emerson said before she could catch herself.

“You did?” Cassie glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

Shit
. Emerson exhaled, annoyed with herself, but figured it was silly to try to sidestep it now. “I lost my job.”

“What?” Cassie’s eyes went wide. “When? What happened?”

“I mean I am unemployed.” She tried not to snap her answer, wasn’t sure about her success. “I got the official call on Wednesday.”

Cassie shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Apparently, the knee replacements my fellow salespeople and I have been selling are defective.”

Cassie’s eyebrows raised up to her hairline.

“I know,” Emerson nodded, and it just came spilling out. What was it about Cassie that made words pour from her mouth like water? “There’d been a little bit of a rumor swirling around the company about a pending lawsuit, but we all thought it was just talk. Nobody told us anything solid, they told us not to worry about it, that the rumors were just that: rumors. So we went about business as usual.” She shook her head as she thought of all the doctors she’d sold the knees to, all the patients who may have to go through surgery again. When she glanced over, Cassie was looking at Emerson’s knee with a question in her eyes. “Oh. No. I don’t have that brand.”

“Thank god,” Cassie and Emerson said at the same time, then grinned at each other.

“Listen, I haven’t told anybody, wasn’t planning on telling anybody, so I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this under wraps.” Emerson grimaced.

“Oh, of course. Of course.” Cassie crossed her heart. “Gordie and I can keep a secret. Promise.” After a beat, she glanced at Emerson and asked, “Why weren’t you going to tell anybody?”

“It’s nobody’s business, is it?” She knew her tone had been a bit harsh as soon as the pained expression shot across Cassie’s smooth features.

Cassie gave a nod, kept her eyes on the road. And stayed quiet, which bothered Emerson. Weirdly. She didn’t like that she’d obviously hurt Cassie’s feelings. She also didn’t like the fact that she didn’t like it.

“Hey,” Emerson said, hoping to lighten the mood. “I told you a secret. I think it’s only fair you share one too.”

Cassie glanced at her. “What?”

With a shrug, Emerson said, “Fair is fair.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Cassie’s mouth, and Emerson felt instant relief. “I don’t really have any secrets.”

“Oh, come on. We all have secrets.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about the hot hockey mom at the game Thursday night.”

“Oh.” The smile immediately slid away. Cassie was quiet so long, Emerson thought she might not answer at all. She reached over, laid a hand on Cassie’s shoulder.

“Hey, listen, I’m just kidding. You don’t have to—”

“No, no. It’s okay,” Cassie said, her eyes on the road. She took a deep breath, then let it out very slowly. “Vanessa. Where do I start with Vanessa?” She seemed to be sifting through her brain trying to find the right place to begin.

“How about why there was such a weird vibe between you two? Do you hate her? Is she always that bitchy?”

Cassie shook her head slowly. “No. No, she is most certainly not bitchy. And I don’t hate her. I loved her.”

“You loved her.”

Cassie nodded. “Yeah.”

Emerson watched her face, and then got it. “You, like,
loved
her?”

Cassie nodded again. “Yeah. I did. I did love her.” She glanced at Emerson, seemingly to gauge her reaction.

Emerson rolled the information around. “Interesting.”

“Interesting? What, that I play for your team?” At Emerson’s surprised look, Cassie chuckled. “I was good friends with your mom, remember?”

“Ah. Right. Well, your name when we were in school was Parker, not Prescott. I figured you must be married.”

Another slow nod and Cassie said, “I was. Vanessa and I both were when we fell in love.”

It was Emerson’s turn to crank up her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Cassie sighed. “Yes. It was all so…bizarre.” Again, she became quiet, and Emerson felt immediately uncomfortable as she wondered if she’d opened a box that Cassie would rather keep closed.

“Hey, look, Cassie. I don’t mean to pry. I was just kidding about the whole secret sharing thing. It’s clear this situation is hard for you, so you don’t have to talk about it.” Conversations this personal were not Emerson’s thing, and she tried—unsuccessfully—to subtly backtrack away from the subject.

With a grateful smile, Cassie reached over and squeezed Emerson’s forearm, then forged ahead. “It’s okay, Em. Really. It’s a sensitive subject that I should probably talk about more often. Maybe that’ll help me get past it all.” With a determined nod, she said, “Prescott is my married name. Michael and I got married right out of college.” At Emerson’s amazed expression, she chuckled. “Yeah. I know. Way too young. But…did you ever see the movie
Imagine Me and You
?”

Emerson shook her head. “I don’t really watch a lot of movies.”

Undeterred, Cassie went on. “Really? Well, that movie was me and Michael. We were best friends. We’d been best friends since we were kids. It seemed perfectly natural that we should get married. So we did. And we were happy. Things were fine for nearly four years.”

“Until Vanessa came along.”

“Until Vanessa came along. I swear to god, I fell for her instantly. She was married. I was married. But we couldn’t help it. There was something, some connection, some missing piece, something neither of us was getting from our marriage. At least, that’s how
I
felt. I knew the very first time I kissed her that I was gay. It was like everything just fell into place, which sounds so incredibly corny and cliché, but it’s true. I suddenly got it. Light bulbs went off all over the place. The clue bus finally drove by with a big sign on it.” With a self-deprecating laugh she added, “I can’t believe it took me that long.”

“Well, you live in a small town. You do what you’re supposed to do. You can’t be gay in Lake Henry without everybody knowing about it. You can’t do
anything
in Lake Henry without everybody knowing about it—” She waved her hand in the air. “Case in point. So the last thing you’re looking to do is create controversy. Plus, you had Michael. You loved him and he was good to you. So you probably didn’t go searching.”

Cassie grinned, obviously impressed. “You are exactly right. If Vanessa hadn’t come along, I’d probably still be with my husband.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Some other woman would have shown up.”

Cassie looked at her. “You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Huh.” Cassie nodded slowly as she maneuvered the car along the winding road.

“So? What happened?”

“It didn’t take me long to figure out exactly what was going on with me. I sat Michael down and we talked. For hours and hours. I told him everything.”