RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer\Woodrose Mountain\Sweet Laurel Falls (97 page)

“So you're still enjoying working there?”

“Absolutely. Jack is…fantastic. He's a genius, Mom. I'm
learning more from watching him work than I could from years and years of
classes.”

“That's great.” Her answer was even mostly sincere. For Sage's
sake, she was pleased to see them developing a relationship.

“If you want the truth, I still can't believe that Jackson
Lange is actually my father, even after all these weeks of working with him. I
studied his work in some of my early-level architecture classes and never once
had any inkling he might be related to me. It still all feels so weird, you
know?”

Maura couldn't argue with that. Definitely weird. “Did you see
I left you another message from that Gunnison adoption attorney?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I've got a stack of attorneys I need to call
back when I have more time. I'm planning to set aside a day next week. Hey, I
forgot to get a drink. Can I grab you something from Claire's stash in the
fridge?”

She didn't miss how quickly Sage changed the subject. She
suspected Sage didn't want to talk about the adoption because she was having
second thoughts. Maura had to pray that wasn't the case.

“I'll get us both something to drink. I wasn't thinking. You
stay off your feet. What did you want?”

“Well, I'd really love a Mountain Dew right now, but I'd better
just stick with a bottled water.”

“Still staying off the caffeine?”

“Yes. Everything else has been easy. I don't smoke or drink,
but the caffeine thing is going to kill me.”

“You're doing great, honey. It will go by so fast, you won't
even remember being without Mountain Dew for a few months.”

“If you say so.”

“I'll be right back.”

She headed to the front of the store. Claire was just finishing
ringing someone up, and Maura waited until the customer finished and headed out
the door, not willing to interrupt a sale.

“Hey, can I bum a couple of bottled waters from you? We forgot
to pack them in our lunch. I'll add it to your tab over at the store.”

Her friend grinned. “You can have whatever you want from me as
long as I can still grab my morning coffee at your shop.”

“Of course. I keep the Sumatra–French roast blend just for
you,” she answered.

“I'm so glad the two of you scheduled the worktable today. It's
great to see you together. How's Sage feeling?” she asked.

“She seems to be doing fine.”

“Second trimester is such a blessing, as I remember it. I'm
praying she'll have a gentle, uneventful pregnancy for the remaining months.
It…might make what comes after a little easier to bear.”

She was grateful for her friend's compassion—but as much as she
loved Claire, she really didn't want to talk about Sage's adoption plans,
especially when she hadn't come to terms with another loss herself.

“Thanks, Claire.”

“Go ahead and grab a water bottle. Have you figured out what
you're going to make today?”

“Maybe just some new earrings. Neither of us has a lot of
time.”

“I just got in some new wooden beads. Have you seen those
yet?”

She shook her head. “Where are they?”

“Go grab whatever you want to drink, and I'll bring back some
samples while you two finish your lunch.”

“Thanks.”

As at home in String Fever as she was in her own store, she
headed into Claire's neatly organized office, where the minifridge was tucked
under a counter. She grabbed a couple of water bottles and heard the phone ring
and Claire answer it, just as the bells chimed out front, heralding new
customers.

With water bottles in hand, she headed for the door of the
office, then cringed for Claire's sake when she spied the newcomers out in the
store.

“Hello!” sang out Genevieve Beaumont, her arm tucked into the
crooked elbow of her fiancé, Sawyer Danforth.

The two of them together looked like Barbie and Ken, tall,
gorgeous and perfect for each other. Gen, with her gleaming smile and
classically beautiful features, always seemed to make Maura feel short and
grubby, the crazy-haired naked troll in the toy box.

Claire gave Gen a practiced smile that hid any sign of the
exasperation Maura knew she must be feeling. She held her hand over the phone.
“Hi, Gen. I'll be with you in a minute,” she said.

For more than a year now, the rest of Hope's Crossing had been
forced to accommodate Gen's various wedding whims. She was Bridezilla on
steroids, demanding and unreasonable and sometimes petulant as her wedding was
scheduled and rescheduled. It was now less than a month away, much to the relief
of all the local merchants under pressure to make sure everything turned out
perfectly for Gen's marriage to Sawyer Danforth, son and heir apparent to a
politically powerful Denver family.

Claire had been unlucky enough to be dragged into the wedding
preparations when she had agreed to complete custom beadwork on Genevieve's
gorgeous wedding dress. She had finished it beautifully—twice, actually, since
the first dress had been violently destroyed by Layla and Taryn Thorne and the
other teenagers involved in the car accident during their incomprehensible
vandalism and robbery spree.

Maura really didn't want to talk to Gen, Charlie Beaumont's
older sister. Relations between the two families had been strained, to say the
least, since Charlie had pleaded guilty and been sentenced.

She slipped through the store as unobtrusively as she could
manage. At least the worktable was tucked into the back corner of String Fever,
the view obscured from the front by display racks. Maybe Gen wouldn't even
notice them here.

Much to her dismay, she found Sage looking pale, her hands flat
on the worktable as if she needed it for support.

“Here's your water. Sorry I took a little longer than I'd
planned.”

Her words seemed to jerk Sage out of her trance. She blinked
and curled her hands into fists, then stood up so abruptly her chair nearly
tipped backward. “I need to get out of here.”

Maura stared. “What's wrong? Are you feeling sick.”

Sage shot a look toward the front of the store, where Maura
could see the happy couple looking at Claire's extensive chain collection. She
shoved her arms in her coat and wrapped it around her tightly. “I just…really
need some fresh air. And I should be heading back to the office. I forgot Jack
wanted me to fax some papers to the San Francisco office.”

“What about the earrings we were going to make?”

“I can't. Not right now. I'll… Maybe we can do it another day.
Sorry. I just… I need to go.”

She whirled around to the front of the store with another look
that bordered on panic before she scooped up her backpack and rushed to the back
door, which led her out in completely the opposite direction from the shortest
route back to Jack's office.

At the sound of the slamming door, Claire looked up from her
conversation with Genevieve and Sawyer, her brow furrowed. For just a moment,
Maura wasn't sure how to respond. A dark suspicion took root, but she wasn't
ready to look at it yet. She quickly gathered up the remains of their lunch and
returned the beading magazines to the rack on the wall. They had only pulled
down a few findings, and it was easy for her to return them to the displays.
When she finished, she pulled on her coat and walked reluctantly toward the
trio, still talking by the front desk.

She still didn't want to talk to Gen or Sawyer but also
couldn't be deliberately rude to Claire by leaving without a word.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know
we apparently only came for the use of your table and the free water bottles.
Thanks for that.”

“You're not making anything?” Claire asked, clearly
disappointed.

“Not today, I guess. Sage wasn't feeling well. She said she
needed some fresh air.”

Sawyer stiffened almost imperceptibly. She wouldn't have
noticed if he hadn't been standing next to her, in all his perfectly handsome
glory—at least she would find him handsome if she were the kind of woman who
went for someone ten years younger and fairly plastic. Which she wasn't.

“Sage? Was that…Sage McKnight?”

“Yes. She's my daughter.”

“Is she okay?”

“I'm sure she'll be fine. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you knew
her.”

“Oh, I don't. Not really. Well, just a little. We met at a
party last summer when I was in town for a few weeks working on your dad's
reelection campaign—remember that, Gen? We went to that party at the reservoir?
A friend of a friend, I think, but it turned out to be mostly college
students.”

“Of course. Rachel Zeller's birthday party.”

“Right. We were trying to get a donation out of her father so
we went, but the crowd was a little young for us. Sage and I went out on the
wakeboards while you were working on your tan, remember that?”

“Look at you, with your memory for names and faces. That will
come in so handy when you're back in Washington, won't it?” Genevieve's smile
was rather tight, Maura thought.

“Tell Sage we said hello.” Sawyer gave that charming smile of
his that seemed to make every female heart flutter helplessly like a moth with a
singed wing, and that dark suspicion dug its claws in more sharply.

“I'll be sure to do that.”

“Let me know if everything's okay,” Claire said, her pretty
features furrowed.

“I'm sure she's fine. Thanks, Claire. Sorry to ditch on
you.”

“Not a problem. That only means I'll get to look forward to
having you both in again.”

Claire had an uncanny way of turning any obstacle into a
positive. It was pretty darn annoying sometimes.

“Right. See you later.”

She walked out into the cool March afternoon and headed down
the street toward Jack's office. Worry for her daughter was the reason for these
butterflies jumping around in her stomach, she told herself. She was absolutely
not
nervous to see Jack again.

When she arrived at Lange & Associates, she could see
through the window she had guessed correctly. Sage was sitting behind her desk
staring down at her hands. She didn't even register awareness when Maura pushed
open the door.

“All right, spill. What's going on?”

Sage finally looked up, her features pale and set. She blinked
when she saw Maura. “Mom. You didn't have to follow me.”

“You ran out of String Fever like you were about to throw up on
the sidewalk. Forgive a mother for being worried for her child. Now, what's
wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm just… I'm being stupid.”

“Why don't you let me be the judge of that?”

“No, I am. I've been stupid for months. Everything is so messed
up.”

She started to cry, sloppy tears that leaked out of her eyes
and dripped down her cheeks, and Maura reached for her, her heart aching for her
daughter. “It's Sawyer, isn't it?”

Sage drew away a little to stare at her. She didn't answer,
just let out a little sob that confirmed everything.

“Oh, honey.” Maura held her closer and Sage wrapped her arms
around her mother and held on as if she were five years old, afraid of the
monsters under her bed.

“I know. You don't have to tell me. I'm such an idiot.”

Sawyer Danforth was the father of Sage's baby. How on earth had
this all become so complicated? He had been engaged to Gen for longer than a
year. They were supposed to have been married last fall, but the wedding had
been postponed after the accident. His family was wealthy, powerful and
connected—and would not be at all thrilled at their scion for fathering an
out-of-wedlock child with someone they would consider a nobody.

She could see nothing but a vast sea of heartache for her child
and didn't know the first thing she could say or do to help Sage wade through
it.

“Can you tell me what happened between you? Were
you…dating?”

Sage sniffed. “It's not like I was in love with him or
anything. Well, I thought I was, a little. But even at the time I knew how
stupid that was. I mean, how can I possibly compete with Gen Beaumont? She looks
like a supermodel and I'm like a Keebler Elf.”

Despite her own broken heart, she had to smile a little at the
imagery, so similar to her own troll comparison. “You could kick Genevieve
Beaumont's skinny little butt in any kind of head-to-head competition,
especially if it called for brains and personality.”

For a moment, Maura thought Sage might smile at that. Though
her mouth twitched a little, her eyes still looked bleak. “We all went to a
birthday party this summer. Rachel Zeller, Josie's big sister. I guess she was a
sorority sister of Genevieve's or something. She and Gen—and Josie, for that
matter—spent most of the day lying out, working on their tans. Gen wouldn't even
get in the water. I'd never been wakeboarding, so Sawyer was showing me what to
do. We had a lot of fun together, but it was…nothing.”

She clenched her hands together. “So we were on the boat and we
were talking about music and stuff, and he couldn't believe it when I told him
Chris was my stepdad. I guess he's a big fan of Pendragon. I told him they were
coming to Boulder in August, right when school started, and I could probably get
him and Gen backstage.”

Maura usually attended all the Pendragon concerts when they
played anywhere in Colorado, but she had made an excuse for that particular one.
Her relationship with Chris had been more than amicable since the divorce, but
his current girlfriend struggled with their friendship, and Maura had decided
she couldn't cope with the drama this year.