The Ranch She Left Behind (31 page)

“I won’t, of course.” The assessing look in Fanny’s eyes was so intelligent that Max suddenly understood how she’d been able to keep her bookstore going when all around others were failing. She was a born businesswoman. “In fact, I’ve found a biography of him, and I’m thinking maybe we could set up a book signing event.”

“Sounds great.”

“I’ll wait until the resort opens, of course.” She smiled, switching fluidly from businesswoman to flirtatious in a heartbeat. “Will you still be in town then?”

He wouldn’t—not unless, for the first time in the history of construction anywhere or any time on this planet, the resort finished ahead of schedule. They planned on eleven months. He was in Silverdell for only nine.

Nine months. And one of those was almost gone already. The calendar suddenly seemed tragically short.

“No. I’m afraid I’ll have gone back to—”

“Max.” Gray appeared suddenly, placing a palm on Max’s shoulder. His other hand held his cell up to his ear. “Max, can I steal you for a minute?”

Gray tilted his head, clearly directing his next words into the phone. “Yes, I’m going to tell him. He deserves to know. Bree, trust me. He deserves to know.”

Something deep in Max’s stomach went hideously cold, in spite of the warm sun. He gave Fanny a rote smile and allowed Gray’s slight pressure to lead him off to a more private spot.

When they were several feet clear of the others, Gray slipped his phone into his pocket and gave Max a solemn look.

“What’s wrong?” Max kept his tone low. “Don’t try to break it gently. Just tell me.”

“Okay.” Gray took a breath. “There’s been an accident. Penny went white-water rafting this morning. Apparently something went wrong.”

“
How
wrong?”

Gray’s gaze was careful, which scared the hell out of Max. The man was usually full of glib charm, but right now he looked as guarded as a doctor about to deliver your odds of surviving the night.

“Everyone is alive,” he said, getting that out of the way first. Max was grateful, since of course it was
the
pivotal piece of information.

“I’m not sure what happened. The stretch of river she ran was just a class two. But it sounds as if they hit some rapids that were uncharacteristically rough. Several people got flipped out of the raft, including Penny. Word is, her helmet was knocked off, and she hit her head on a rock.”

His heartbeat suddenly drumming in his ears, Max felt in his pocket for his car keys. Olivia would just have to handle the rest of the event. “Where is she now?”

“She was taken to the hospital in Montrose. Bree and Ro are on their way now.” Gray put his hand on Max’s shoulder again. “But you should know—in case you’re planning to race over there. You may not be able to see her.”

Max set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, feeling a more like an animal than a man.

“Why not? Does the sheriff of Silverdell get to control what happens in Montrose, too?”

“No.” Gray shook his head, and the look in his eyes turned much more sympathetic. “No, not because anyone will try to stop you. Because…Penny’s still unconscious.”

* * *

M
AX
WENT
BY
the house first. He wasn’t sure when he’d return, and he needed to let Mrs. Biggars know. He needed to be sure she could stay, if he didn’t get back by five.

He debated whether to tell Ellen. Everything might turn out fine. Why frighten her? And if everything wasn’t fine…

He refused to entertain that possibility. Everything
would
be fine. Penny had been crossing some silly thing off her Risk-it List, that was all. Dancing, juggling, rafting.
A kiss in the ice-cream parlor.

She asked so little of life. She didn’t want riches or fame. She just wanted a life without fear. Life with a little bit of independence, self-respect and room to breathe. Life couldn’t possibly respond by sending tragedy instead.

He felt a fury building inside him. It was so unfair. She hadn’t been foolhardy. He knew the company she’d chosen—they were on the approved list for guests at Silverdell Hills to use, when they opened. They were licensed, experienced, everything they should be.

White-water rafting could be dangerous, sure, but rarely to people who booked guided float trips with reputable commercial companies. Not to people who appreciated the international scale of river difficulty—and their own abilities. Not to people who brought along helmets and life vests and guides who knew what they were doing.

So everything had to come out fine. And there probably was no need to mention Penny while Ellen was still so angry.

Except that he wasn’t ever going to lie to her again, or even mislead her “for her own good.” They hadn’t found their way to detente, and maybe they never would. But two things had come through loud and clear.

One, his daughter hated being lied to. She hated knowing something was wrong, but being told everything was fine. She hated not being able to trust her parents to tell her the truth.

The other was that she was terrified of being unloved. Maybe she’d been told too many times that she looked like her mother, that she was her mother’s “little clone,” or a “mini-Lydia.” Therefore, any hint that Max hadn’t loved Lydia, didn’t still love Lydia, must seem exactly the same as his not loving Ellen.

He might have to spend a lifetime proving her wrong about that.

So when he saw her come to her bedroom doorway and stare out at him, stiff-armed and steely-eyed, he knew he had to tell her the truth.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I have to go to Montrose for a while, and I wanted to let you know what’s going on.”

“Why?” She folded her arms across her chest, obviously forgetting that she had a wet paintbrush in her hand. It left a narrow blue smear across the inside of her elbow. “I thought you had that grand opening thing at the resort all day.”

“I did. But something’s come up.” He remembered how he had dreaded that he might have to endure a long sugarcoating from Gray before he got the facts he needed. So he got to the point. “There’s been an accident. Penny was hurt while she was white-water rafting.”

Ellen didn’t even blink. He wondered whether that should be read as a “who cares?” or an “I care too much to let my feelings show.”

“She hit her head on a rock. She’s being taken to a hospital in Montrose. I’m heading over there now, to see if she’s okay.”

“
If
she’s okay?” Ellen’s voice was still monotone. She just put a little more force on that first
if.
“They don’t know for sure?”

“No.” He tried not to let his own fear show through, but he wouldn’t lie. “She’s unconscious, so they can’t tell for sure.”

He thought perhaps Ellen’s face had paled—but she still showed no open reaction, so maybe he was imagining things. However, just in case a helpless anxiety lay beneath that blank facade, the same kind of impotent terror he was trying to cloak, he brought out the best smile he could manage.

“I really believe she’ll be fine. I honestly think there’s very little reason to be super worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Ellen said. And with that she turned around and walked back into her bedroom. At the last minute, she swiveled and gave him that strangely blank look again. “Just so you know, though, I can still tell when you’re lying.”

* * *

B
Y
THE
TIME
Max got to the hospital Penny was awake. But Rowena met him at the door to Penny’s room like the dragon guarding the princess’s castle. Before he could say a word, she put her hands lightly against his chest, and backed him up to the waiting area.

He caught only a glimpse of Penny, lying in the center of a crowd of family and flowers, before someone shut the door.

Rowena made a sound under her breath that, if it had been any louder, might be called a growl. She turned to Max.

“She doesn’t need any drama,” she said without preamble. “She’s got a broken wrist, two bruised ribs, sixteen stitches in her calf and a concussion. So I repeat. She doesn’t need any drama.”

“I’ve never known anyone who did,” Max observed calmly. “Although I’ve met one or two who seem to enjoy creating it.”

Rowena’s green eyes narrowed. She had a quick mind, and she knew what he meant. “I don’t enjoy drama,” she clarified. “But I’m not afraid of it, not if it keeps Penny safe.”

“Neither,” he said with a terse smile, “am I.”

It was a standoff. The man with the magazine hadn’t turned a page since they got started, though he’d lifted it up, as if the pages would hide his eavesdropping.

Rowena opened her mouth, ready to retort, but stopped when she saw Dallas come into the room. He went straight to his wife, put his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her silky black hair.

“Hi, Thorpe,” he said pleasantly. Then he looked down at Rowena. “She wants to see him.”

Rowena frowned. “But—”

“But nothing.” Dallas gave her a one-sided smile. “Not our decision, honey. She said she wants to see him.”

That was all Max needed to hear. He turned and headed back toward the little room. Even through the door, he could see that it was filled with a ridiculous number of flower arrangements. They’d probably cleaned out the gift shop entirely.

He knocked, but the minute he heard a voice say, “Come in,” he pushed the door and entered. The room was hardly big enough to hold all the flowers, and all the people—Bree, Gray and Barton James circled the bed now, and for the life of him Max couldn’t imagine where Dallas and Rowena had found a spot big enough to roost.

But Max’s brain acted like a camera lens, zeroing in on the wan figure in the bed and letting the rest of the room fuzz out of focus. “Hi,” he said.

She gave him a smile that was almost painful to see, because her upper lip was split.

“Hi,” she said. “I told you I was clumsy.”

He came closer, and though he still saw only Penny, he sensed that someone melted away to give him room.

“Yeah. You look pretty awful.” He took her hand lightly. “What were you juggling this time? Butcher knives? Cannonballs?” He grinned. “Butcher knives
and
cannonballs?”

She started to laugh, then winced, and he felt like an idiot for cracking a joke. Bruised ribs, remember? He’d had a couple of broken ones, himself, and he knew how they hurt.

“She’s just being modest,” Gray put in. “She was a hero. A couple of idiots fell out of the raft and decided that was the perfect moment to admit they couldn’t swim. The guide had to go in after them, but he couldn’t get them both, so Penny went in to get the other one.”

She was shaking her head. “I didn’t
go
in. Stop romanticizing it. I
fell
in.” Her gaze returned to Max, and he was amazed to see that she was truly amused—her eyes were sparkling inside their purpling circles.

“True story. I really fell in.”

Gray laughed. “Well, you fell in while you were trying to extend an oar to the person who was drowning. And after you fell in, you kept on trying to save her. And you did.” He brushed his hands together smugly, wiping the imaginary dust from his palms. “Adds up to
hero
to me.”

“And me,” Bree said quietly. Max looked up, and saw that the cool blonde had hot tears in her eyes.

“Did everyone make it home in one piece?” Max looked at the cast on her arm, and the stitches over her eyebrows and beside her ear. “Or…at least in pieces that could be stitched and cast and stapled together again?”

She nodded. “I’m probably in the worst shape. I think I’m the only one who has to stay in the hospital overnight.”

He wasn’t surprised to hear that—she looked as if one night might not be enough. But he was disappointed. He knew the duplex would feel empty without her gentle presence next door.

“Because of the concussion?”

“Yes,” she said. “Apparently they’re going to wake me up every hour on the hour and ask me who I am.”

Gray laughed. “I know. At midnight, tell them you’re Cleopatra. At one o’clock, Madame Pompadour. At two o’clock—”

“Idiot.” Bree bumped her husband’s arm, but finally she was smiling, and the tears seemed to have ebbed a bit. “At two o’clock, they’ll put her in the psych wing, and then we’ll
never
get her home.”

“Bree.” Penny held out her hand to her sister. “Would you mind giving Max and me a minute alone?”

Hell, yes, she’d mind. Max could see it in Bree’s composed face, which, once you knew her better, wasn’t quite the ice-queen-calm it seemed at first. Beneath the surface, the Wright women were emotional souls, filled with fiery loyalty toward one another.

“Bree?” Penny smiled, but she clearly wasn’t asking permission. She was telling her sister to leave.

“Just a minute, then,” Bree said reluctantly. The three of them filed out, each glancing over a shoulder at the very last minute, as if to be sure Max hadn’t turned into a three-headed monster while they weren’t looking.

Finally, Max and Penny were alone with the flowers.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for what happened at the stables.” She held out her hand. He took it without hesitation.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He wanted to tighten his fingers over her hand, but he wasn’t sure she didn’t have scrapes or bruises or tender places there.

“I do, though. I should have remembered the closed circuit camera was there. I should have warned you we might be observed.”

“I’m not sure it would have stopped me.”

She looked down. Then, slowly, she nodded. “It will be hard, won’t it? But at least not right away. When I leave here, I’m going to Bell River. It’ll be a while before I’m 100 percent again, and I honestly think they’ll come move in with me if I refuse.”

He saw the sense of it. He tried to move past his own disappointment. If she wanted space, if she wanted to get away from any temptation to fall back into bed with him, he was required, by honor, to let her have it.

“I wish…I wish Ellen weren’t so insecure,” he said. “If she were stronger—”

“But she’s not. You’re doing the right thing. I want you to know I understand that. Just because we weren’t able to…to…”