Once Burned (14 page)

“In that case, welcome to the Lazy H. I’m Henry, by the way—Aaron’s twin.”

Henry extended his hand, and for a moment, the kid eyed it disbelievingly. At last, he cautiously shook it.

“You’re nervous, Jerry,” Nick observed. “Why?”

“I….” Again Jerry shook his head and tried again. “I can’t believe how nice you all are. I thought you’d all hate me for what happened to Aaron’s wife.”

“It was an accident,” Nick said gently. “You won’t find any animosity here, Jerry, but you
will
find a lot of sympathy. We haven’t forgotten that you lost someone you loved that day, too, just like we did. Nor have we forgotten how Sheriff Rogers and his buddy the county attorney railroaded you.”

“Believe me, kid,” Henry said. “We’ve all had our issues with Rogers and
not
because Aaron works with him. You’ll find he’s not very popular here in Northstar.”

“Thank you.” The young man flashed a smile. “Would it be all right if everyone called me Jeremiah? The only two people who called me Jerry are my cousin and my brother, and I’ve never liked it.”

“Of course it’s all right,” Tracie said. “We’ve just always heard you called Jerry. Truth be told, I like Jeremiah better, too.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hammond.”

“None of that formality. You call us all by our first names.”

“Anyhow,” Henry interrupted. “I need to head home and get that firewood unloaded. Aaron, do you have a sec?”

Nodding, Aaron followed him into the living room. Henry turned to his twin, eyeing his twin for a moment before he spoke.

“This is quite the shocker.”

Aaron shrugged. “It’s time I move past what happened, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. I just didn’t expect this to be the way you did it. Skye’s had quite a remarkable influence on you.”

“This has nothing to do with Skye. I’m finally in a place that I can forgive the past… and forgive myself for my part in what happened. Jerry isn’t the only one who made mistakes. I did, too. I should’ve just let him go or fought harder to see that he got a fair deal because I knew in my gut that he was just a dumb kid in a bad situation with little choice but to do what his cousin told him to do. It was stupid to agree to running drugs for his cousin, but it was also hope in a life that was pretty much devoid of hope.”

Henry chuckled. “Listen to you, waxing philosophical. Tell me something, Aaron. Why are you finally at the point that you can forgive the past? I’ll tell you why. Skye. She’s come into your life now that you’ve had sufficient time to grieve and opened your eyes again to the good in the world. That’s the truth whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Now who’s waxing philosophical?”

Henry embraced his brother. “It’s good to see my twin coming back again. I’d love to stay and chat, but—”

“Yeah, I know. Lindsay’s supposed to be calling.”

“Actually, no. She’s out to dinner with Skye, so we agreed she wouldn’t call tonight.”

“Bummed?”

“Very, but I’m also hungry, and
that
is why I’m going to call it a day. We’ll talk more about our lovely ladies later, though, all right? I still owe you a beer at the Bedspread since I ditched you on my first night back.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Hen.”

Henry ducked into the kitchen just long enough to bid farewell to everyone and grab Nick so they could get the firewood unloaded. They drove to his house, and while they tossed the blocks into a pile Henry would stack in his woodshed later, they spoke little. The only mention they made of Jerry—Jeremiah—Mackey was to comment on the “interesting” development. Henry was running low on energy and didn’t have any to spare on things other than thoughts of Lindsay. There would be plenty of time later to see how or if hiring Jeremiah would work out.

After Nick left for home, Henry trudged into his house.

His first inclination was to sprawl on the couch and wonder how many sore muscles he was going to have tomorrow—muscles that would’ve gotten him through a day of cutting firewood like it was nothing before he’d left the ranch in search of adventure in the big city. Admitting that he was either getting soft or old… or both, he ignored the call of the couch and headed to the kitchen to pull something out to cook for dinner. He glanced toward the answering machine and saw it flashing with a new message. While he defrosted a small package of elk steak, he hit play, thinking perhaps Lindsay had decided to call after all before she and Noah headed to dinner with Skye.

The message wasn’t from Lindsay.

“Henry, it’s Mel.”

Immediately, he reached toward the delete message button.

“Please don’t delete this,” she continued.

He hesitated with his finger hovering and his teeth clenched as a stabbing pain lanced through his chest at the sound of her voice and the memories attached to it. There was a long pause, and he had plenty of time to wonder if she had needed to search for something she could say that would prevent him from erasing her message. He knew he should just delete the message, but a masochistic curiosity seized him, and he couldn’t seem to make his finger do the job.

“I really need to talk to you. About the salon and the money I owe you and… other things. Please call me back. I… Just call. Okay?”

Henry frowned at his answering machine long after Melanie’s message ended. There were no others. His gut warned him to leave well enough alone and ignore her plea, but she
did
still owe him money, and if he ever hoped to get it back, he’d have to call her someday.

Do I even want it back?

Lindsay’s face suddenly appeared in his head, and for the first time since he’d loaned Mel the ten grand for the salon, he considered writing off the debt… and
not
because it would be less painful than dealing with her. Lindsay’s plight had given him a new perspective, and it made him feel guilty as hell to think that paying back the debt might put Melanie and Dylan in a financial bind. He might not want anything to do with her, but he wasn’t callous, and at any rate, he didn’t need the money.

It was probably stupid, but he called her back.

“Henry,” she breathed when he announced himself. “I wasn’t sure you’d return my call.”

“I nearly didn’t. What do you want, Mel? And don’t try to draw me into conversation. Just say what you need to say.”

“Tamlyn found a new partner for the salon who wants to buy me out.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I’ll be able to pay you back… except I don’t want to be bought out. I love running the salon.”

“Again, what does this have to do with me?”

“I need your advice, even though I’m sure you’ll tell me to sell my part of the salon so you can get your money back.”

“I
am
inclined to think both you and the salon would be better off if you sell, yes, but not because I want my money back. The fact of the matter is that you’re not a businesswoman. I’m not trying to be mean, Mel, but you’ve never been great with money, and you can barely balance a checkbook, so why did you figure you could keep records for a business?”

Silence met his observations.

“On the other hand, you’re a great stylist, and as I recall, you only wanted to partner up with Tam so you didn’t have to pay such ridiculous station rent. Do you actually love running the salon… or do you love that doing so makes being a stylist a little cheaper?”

Mel didn’t respond immediately, and hearing her sigh, he braced himself for what he had no doubt was coming.

“I miss you,” she murmured. “I miss being able to ask you about things like this. And Dylan misses you, too.”

“I’m sorry, Mel. I am, but that isn’t my problem anymore. I wish you the best, but I can’t be your safety net. Have you located Dylan’s father yet?”

“Yes, I have. And he wants nothing to do with us.”

Henry wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyhow. “Who is it?”

Again, she hesitated, and he suspected it was someone he knew.

“Doug is Dylan’s father.”

Briefly, a pang of betrayal stabbed him, but it was gone in a moment. He gave himself a minute to absorb the information, and in that time, the flash of bitterness disappeared. Of all the people she could have gotten pregnant by, at least it was someone she cared for and who cared for her and Dylan. Relief surged. Doug was a good man.

“You have proof?”

“A paternity test confirmed it.” Mel let out a sob and quickly choked it back. “He wants nothing to do with us.”

That didn’t sound at all like the friend Henry knew, but he wouldn’t have thought Doug would jump into bed with Mel so soon after she and Henry had broken up. Of course, the news that he was a daddy was still probably sinking in, and Henry imagined his friend was angry that Mel hadn’t bothered to consider he might be Dylan’s father, instead choosing to assume Henry was. Unintentional perhaps, but that was a stinging insult to Doug.

“I strongly suggest you find a way to convince him otherwise,” Henry said, “and soon because being a single parent is only going to get more difficult as Dylan grows.”

“I’m finding that out.”

The thought of her adorable son needing something and not getting it gnawed at him, and before he could begin to consider the consequences, he said, “Listen, Mel. If you find yourself in a bind—and I mean a
real bind—
I’ll help. But don’t call me unless you have no other choice. I don’t want Dylan to go without something he needs, but neither do I want you to lean on me. It’s time you learn to stand on your own feet. And the first step you need to take is talking to Doug. No excuses like I know you’re tempted to make. Just do it.”

“Thank you, Henry. I promise I will pay you back… even if I decide not to sell my half of the salon to this woman Tam wants to bring in.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to go fix myself dinner. Take care, Mel.”

“You, too.”

After ending the call, Henry hunched over the counter with his forehead pillowed on his folded harms. What in the hell had he just done? He
knew
better than to leave the door open to Mel even that fraction of an inch.

Jerking upright, he took the cordless into his bedroom and sprawled on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity as his generosity warred with his self-preservation. Why did his every dealing with Mel leave him torn like this? The only time he was torn about Lindsay came when he tried to keep their temporary bargain temporary while everything in him wanted to further explore the intoxicating chemistry—physical
and
emotional—between them.

He glanced at the picture sitting beneath the lamp on his nightstand. Skye had printed it out for him, a shot she’d taken of him and Lindsay dancing at Vince and Evie’s wedding reception. Even then, barely twenty-four-hours after they’d met, the connection between them was obvious. The smiles on both their faces and the way they had eyes only for each other, oblivious to everything and everyone around them….

At least Mel hadn’t asked him to come back. He wasn’t in the least tempted, but that didn’t mean he had the energy to explain to her why he couldn’t even thought his reasons were very simple. He didn’t and hadn’t ever loved Mel, and even if he had, his hope for a relationship with Lindsay—just the
hope
of starting something with her—eclipsed it.

He pinched his eyes closed and massaged the bridge of his nose as a million thoughts and emotions danced through is head in a dizzying tango. What a day. Suddenly bone-tired in a way that had nothing to do with the day’s physical labor, he dozed off with his dinner still sitting uncooked in the microwave. Soon after, the ringing of his phone snapped him out of a pleasant dream about Lindsay, and he glanced at the cordless handset’s small screen to see her number displayed. Smiling, he answered.

“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE you said that to Skye,” Lindsay said to her son as they climbed the crumbling steps to the house they shared with Chelsea and Spencer. “At least she waited until she
was
divorced before she moved on to a new man, which is a lot more than Darren did. That was so incredibly rude, what you said, that I can’t believe it came out of my son’s mouth.”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to be rude. It just sorta popped out.”

“Funny how things like that
just sorta pop out
of your mouth after you talk to your father. I guess that means you’re over hating him.”

“Well, he
is
my dad,” Noah snapped. “And you can’t take that away from him.”

“Yep. There he is,” Lindsay muttered. With fury snapping through her, she whirled on Noah and pointed a shaking finger at him. “Let me tell you something, Noah. I don’t want to take that away from him. I never did. I have
always
wanted him to be a parent and to do what every parent should—to take care of his child instead of fighting over every dime and every visit. But enough of this. I’m not going to fight with you about it.”

The front door was unlocked, so Lindsay pushed it open and gestured for Noah to enter ahead of her. Chelsea and her boyfriend were making out on the couch but jerked apart as soon as Lindsay stepped inside and shut the door. Chelsea smiled sheepishly. After pausing to regard the couple with brows lifted and a faint sneer of disgust, Noah strode toward the room he shared with Spencer.

“Sorry,” Chelsea’s boyfriend mumbled.

Lindsay shrugged. “For what? God knows he sees enough of that on TV and… everywhere.”

“Um, Lindsay?” Chelsea said. “We have some big—”

A commotion in the boys’ bedroom drew Lindsay’s attention, and she jogged down the short hall. She popped her head in the doorway to see her son and Spencer wrestling on the floor, and it was immediately clear that they weren’t playing. Red-faced and crying, Noah struggled to overpower his enemy while Spencer thrashed violently to free himself. Lindsay barreled into the room with Chelsea right behind her, wrapped her arm around her son’s waist, and hoisted him off the ground, nearly losing her grip on him when he pushed off the side of his bed with his foot. When had her little boy grown so strong?

“Noah Ulrich! Enough!”

“He stole my crystals, Mom! The ones you and your friend Henry found and brought home for me.”

“I didn’t steal anything, you stupid brat!” Spencer spat.

He’d been face down, and when he rolled onto his back with his mother’s assistance, Lindsay saw his bloodied nose and swore under her breath. Chelsea called for her boyfriend and asked him to bring her a paper towel.

“Yes, you did!” Noah yelled. “They were in my mom’s room when we left for dinner. I made sure to put them back there because I didn’t want you to take them. Because you always take my things and wreck them!”

“Spencer?” Chelsea asked. “Is that true?”

Silence. The older boy glared at Noah, and his lack of response was all the confirmation Lindsay needed. The crystals in question were scattered across the carpet, glinting evidence of Spencer’s deed. Noah finally stopped fighting Lindsay, and she let him go so he could pick up his treasures. After a moment, she stooped to help him, using the task to help her rein in her immediate instinct to defend her son. Chelsea’s boyfriend brought the paper towels, and Chelsea took her son into the bathroom to get him cleaned up.

After they’d gathered all the crystals they could find—some were certainly lost elsewhere in the room and wouldn’t be found unless everything was moved out—Lindsay sat down on Noah’s bed and asked him to sit with her.

“I know you and Spencer don’t get along and that he’s always taking your things and breaking them, but do you really think hitting him was the right way to deal with it?”

“Well, nothing else works.”

“Noah.”

He gave her a hooded look, and the wounded pride in his eyes threatened to demolish her shaky composure. She held her ground, and after almost two full minutes of the silent staring contest, he gave in. His boyishly narrow shoulders slumped and his head drooped in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I’m sorry, too, bud.” She wrapped both arms around him and hugged him, relieved when he leaned into her. “I know it’s hard. You want to sleep in my room tonight?”

“Please.”

“And I’ll make sure I hide your crystals in the top of my closet, okay? I have to say, though, that I’m a bit surprised they’re so special to you that you’d get into a fight over them. I mean, they’re just rocks.”

He shrugged. “Every time I see them, I remember how happy you were when you told me about finding them with your friend Henry. I liked how you smiled like you couldn’t help it.”

That was
not
the response she’d expected, and the sentiment behind it made her heart ache with longing and pride. “How’d I get so lucky to have such a wonderful son?”

“I dunno.” He sighed heavily. “I really am sorry for fighting with Spencer. He just makes me so mad.”

“I know, baby.”

“Will I ever get to meet Henry?”

Lindsay rested her cheek on top of his head and hugged him tighter for a moment. “I don’t know, but I hope so.” She leaned away from him and brushed his hair back from his forehead before inspecting his face. He was going to need a haircut soon. “Back to you and fighting. Are you all right? You don’t look hurt.”

“I’m fine. I didn’t give him a chance to hit me.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, but please don’t ever do that again. Fighting never solves anything and in fact just makes things even worse. Get your PJs out and head up to my room while I go talk to Chelsea, all right?”

Noah nodded, and Lindsay stepped out of the room. Chelsea and Spencer had already left the bathroom, and she found them sitting with Chelsea’s boyfriend on the couch. Wearily, Lindsay sat in the desk chair and faced them. Now that he was cleaned up, Spencer didn’t look so bad. His pride was bruised, she noted, but as he’d just been outmatched by a boy a year younger and ten pounds lighter than him, it wasn’t too hard to figure out why. She heard Noah leave his room and close the door of hers behind him and sighed with relief. A moment later, Chelsea quietly told Spencer to return to his room.

“Anyhow…” the other woman began. “Before the boys got into a fight, I was about to tell you that Rob and I have some big news.”

Of course we’re not going to talk about the fact that our sons just got into a brawl,
Lindsay thought with an inward sneer.
Which is exactly why Spencer keeps stealing and ruining Noah’s belongings. What’s to convince him to stop?

“What kind of news?” she heard herself ask. She sounded just as tired as she felt.

Chelsea lifted her left hand and beamed. It took Lindsay a moment to notice the almost obnoxiously large diamond solitaire glittering on her roommate’s finger and even longer to recognize what it meant.

“You’re engaged?”

With a squeal, Chelsea replied, “Yes! Todd proposed at dinner tonight, and I said yes. Obviously.”

“Congratulations,” Lindsay said flatly. She probably sounded like she didn’t care—not too far from the truth right at that moment—so she sat up a little straighter and attempted a convincingly enthusiastic smile. “Really. I mean that. I’m happy for you both, but I’m tired, so forgive me if I don’t sound like it.”

“There’s something else,” Todd said, clearing his throat nervously. “I’ve asked Chelsea and Spencer to move in with me.”

Panic seized Lindsay. Move in…? That meant she and Noah would have to find a new place to rent or a roommate because there was no way she’d be able to afford this place on her own. “When?”

“This week.”

“This… week?”

“That’s right,” Chelsea answered gleefully. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yeah… wonderful.” Lindsay rose slowly to her feet. “Congrats again. Excuse me.”

Without pausing to wonder why, she grabbed the cordless phone and headed to her bedroom. She sought sanctuary—a place where she could cry without an audience—but with Noah sitting cross-legged on her bed counting his crystals to see how many were missing, she wasn’t going to find it. He glanced up at her, and she pasted her well-practiced fake smile on her face and asked him if he’d be all right by himself while she stepped out onto the back deck. He nodded and returned to his task without noticing anything unusual about her demeanor.

Still clutching the phone, Lindsay slipped out the back door. The weather gods were smiling on her tonight because the skies were clear, something that didn’t happen often in the middle of October. She sank onto one of the cheap folding chairs she’d splurged on at the start of summer and rested her head against the back of it. What were she and Noah going to do? A few days didn’t give her enough time to find a new roommate and it sure as hell didn’t give her enough time to find a new house. She might be able to pay Chelsea’s portion of the rent for next month, but she certainly wouldn’t be able to scrape together the money to pay all the utilities, too, because she hadn’t yet paid back the money to her savings account that she’d spent on her trip to Montana.

Montana….

It was with a groan half of guilt and half of longing that the name entered her mind, and she lifted her gaze to the darkening sky. In the twilight, a couple stars twinkled, but she knew there wouldn’t be nearly as many when the dim glow of dying day faded into black night as there would be in the sky over Northstar, and right now, she dearly missed those stars. She missed a lot more about Montana, and though she and Henry agreed she wouldn’t call him tonight because of her dinner with Skye, she found herself dialing his number, needing the peace the mere sound of his voice never failed to bring her.

“Thought you weren’t going to call tonight,” he mumbled sleepily.

“I woke you up again,” she said, immediately regretting her selfish need. “But it’s not
that
late.”

“It’s been a long day, and I dozed off because, apparently, I’m getting old and soft, too.”

“Say it isn’t so.”

“It is. Spent the day cutting firewood with Nick, and I am beat. Kinda sad that my older brother can outwork me these days.”

“If he weren’t just a couple years older, I might agree with you. I should let you go so you can rest up.”

“No, you shouldn’t. I’m glad you called. I’m glad because I love talking to you, but I’m also glad because I talked to Mel a little bit ago, and I wanted to hear your voice.”

At once, her worries slipped away as curiosity needled her. “You talked to Mel? Who called whom, and what about?”

“She called me. What, you don’t actually think I’d be crazy enough to call her?”

“No, I’m just checking. What did she want?”

“For one, her friend Tam has someone she wants to bring into the salon… someone who can and wants to buy Mel out of it.”

“Which means you’d get the money you loaned her back, right?”

“If she decides to sell, yes. But it doesn’t sound like she wants to. I of course told her she should. That’s not the most interesting piece of news she had, though. It turns out that my old friend and coworker Doug is Dylan’s father.”

“Wait. Didn’t she go out with him before she and you got together? They were together for a pretty long time, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, almost four years. I thought they’d get married, but then they ended up breaking up.”

“Why?”

“I don’t really know.”

“That’s good news, though, isn’t it, that Doug is Dylan’s father? I assume, since he’s a friend of yours, that you approve of him, which means you won’t have to feel so guilty for leaving him now.”

“Yes and no. It seems Doug doesn’t want anything to do with either Mel or Dylan, and I’m pretty sure I know why.”

“He’s pissed at her for assuming you were Dylan’s father.”

“That’s my guess.”

He sighed, and even seven hundred miles away, she could picture him frowning and wondered what else he’d said to Mel. Acquainted with his generous nature, she had a pretty good idea. “You didn’t offer to help Mel, did you?”

He laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

“Only to me because we constructed our friendship on a foundation of almost embarrassingly intimate honesty. You have a heart of gold, Henry, and that isn’t to be faulted, but you
do
remember why you decided to leave her in the first place, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“And you do realize that offering to help her isn’t going to achieve that, right?”

“I know that, but I got to thinking about you and how hard it is for you to support your son… and then I thought about Dylan needing something and not getting it, and the offer just slipped out. I told her not to call me unless she had no other choice.”

Lindsay wanted to tell him he was a fool and that Mel would likely be calling up for every little “need”, but she didn’t because she loved his devotion even to a son who wasn’t his. He wanted to do the right thing by a boy he still obviously loved even though Mel wouldn’t do the right thing by him.

“You know what you have to do, right?”

“Tell her to piss off?”

“No. You need to help her convince Doug to step up and help with Dylan because that’s the only way she’ll stop leaning on you. Think you can do that?”

“I don’t know because I know what he’s feeling right now, though from the opposite side.”

“Does it bother you that she slept with him?”

“Not really. Why should it? Her body, her choice what she does with it.”

“I admire your stance on that. And I have faith that you’ll find a way to convince Doug to step up and take responsibility for Dylan.”

Henry sighed. “I wish you were here right now or I was there. It’d be a really good night to hold you… or make love to you.”

“Yes, it would. I should give you a heads up, I suppose, because I let it slip to Skye that you and I slept together on my last night in Montana.”

“Why should I need a heads up?”

“Well, she might tell your brother….”

“Who cares? I’m sure he’s already figured that out. We didn’t exactly keep it a secret from my family what we intended to do.”