Elle snuggled deeper into Emmett’s arms, running her hand over his back as he lay half on top of her. She kept thinking she might wake from a dream and find he wasn’t really there. The contact of her hand on his skin was a reminder that she wasn’t sleeping. And she hadn’t conjured him up in her sleep. Emmett was really here. With her.

“I still can’t believe it,” she whispered against his shoulder, where her mouth seemed to have wandered on its own.

“Can’t believe what? The things I can do to your core?”

Laughter burst from Elle.

He raised up, grinning down at her.

“My core?” She shook her head.

Emmett’s smile widened as he nodded and pressed his hips to hers. “Face it, you like my core-skills.”

“You’re insane. And where on earth did you learn a term like ‘core’?”

He rolled to his side, one hand propped under his head as he studied her, his other hand grazing over her stomach.

She still had to fight the urge to cover the spot where her breast should have been, but she kept her eyes on his and willed the urge away.

“I’ve been reading old documents and journals from the 1800s when the town was formed,” he said.

Her brows lifted in surprise as she looked at him. “And they’re discussing…um, core body parts?”

Emmett’s grin was wicked as he answered. “No. I got curious so I began reading novels from that time period. A few of them were romance novels.

She quirked a brow.

“What? It’s research.”

“Uh huh. Research into the historical terms for women’s body parts?”

He pressed his growing erection into her leg. “And manhood.”

“Manhood?” She could barely keep the laughter from bubbling over at that one.

“It gets worse,” he said. “Sometimes, they call it the may pole or rod.” His laughter was genuine and contagious.

The thought of Emmett reading books that referred a man’s may pole or rod going into a woman’s core had her close to tears as she laughed. He was laughing with her, but when they stopped, she pressed the real issue.

“Tell me about this new project,” she said. “Are you considering writing romance? Historical romance? You’ve always written mystery and murder and intrigue.”

“You read my books?” Now it was his turn to look surprised.

Elle cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not even going to dignify that question with an answer. Of course, I do.”

“Um, you just dignified my question with an answer.”

She scowled at him in reply.

He gave a lazy shrug. “I found some old writings in the library. There’s a journal from the original Elsbeth Noble in 1891. Did you know she and Emmett Sumner were in love?”

“What? No!” Elle had always known that she’d been named for one of her ancestors and Emmett for one of his, but she hadn’t known the two were in love.

Emmett nodded and she saw the excitement flash in his eyes. “Yup. Their parents broke them up. I guess history really does have a way of repeating itself.”

The look on Emmett’s face when he said the words told her he wished he could take back the statement as soon as he’d said it.

Elle sat up, tugging the blanket around her as she did. “What do you mean, history repeating itself?”

He put a hand to her shoulder and tried to draw her back down to him. “Nothing, I just meant that they were a couple, and so were we.”

“No.” Elle shook her head and pulled back. “That’s not what you meant, Em. Tell me the truth.”

He glanced away. “Nothing, Elle. It’s nothing.”

She didn’t answer, just stared at him.

“Fine,” he said, falling back on a sigh. “I really didn’t ever plan to mention it but…”

“But what?” Elle asked.

“The summer when you left…”

“Yes,” Elle lifted higher.

“I went to see your dad to find out where you’d gone.”

“You did?” She had no idea.

Emmett nodded.

“What did you say?” she asked, holding her breath.

Emmett looked up at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze. “I told him I was going to try to catch you before you got on the plane, find out why you’d run away.”

“But you never came,” she said.

Emmett turned to face her, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “I did.”

“What?” she asked.

Emmett paused, his hand falling away. “He told me not to go, that the world had more to offer you than Canyon Creek did.”

Elle sank back in surprise. Her father had stopped Emmett from chasing her? For months she’d cried, wondering why Emmett hadn’t called, hadn’t come after her.

“He said you needed to go after your dreams,” Emmett continued. “I went to the airport. I guess I was arrogant enough to think I knew better than him.”

Elle shook her head. “I never saw you at the airport.”

“I know.” His smile was sad. “I saw you, one look at your beautiful face and I knew he was right. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, letting you go, Elle.”

Elle swallowed back tears, finally understanding why she’d felt all alone in New York City for so long. She’d been missing her other half. She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. “Then don’t ever let me go again.”

Emmett snaked a hand in her hand and tugged her close. “I’ll never let you go again.”

* * *

Elle stormed into her father’s private cabin, nestled in the woods at the base of Canyon Creek Mountain. Even though the cabin was no farther from the resort than their house was, the structure had a more remote feeling. It was tucked into dense woods, nearly off the grid, with barely anything but running water and electricity. For generations, the small shack had been called nothing more than “The Cabin” by the men in her family, a place for people to go when they wanted to escape the world.

Elle had already been to the main house and hadn’t found her father there, so she’d made the trek to the cabin.

“Dad!” she shouted as she walked into the small living room, noting the fire. She bent and glanced at the pass-through window to the kitchen but didn’t see him. “Dad!” she yelled again.

“Back here,” he hollered from the rear of the cabin.

Elle bypassed the bedroom and bathroom, going straight to the workshop. She wasn’t surprised to see her father hunched over a long workbench, glasses slipping down his nose as he held a fly fish lure under a huge lamp.

He looked up from his work, examining her over his glasses. “Everything all right, sweetheart?”

“No,” she said, stomping into the space.

“Uh, oh,” he muttered under his breath, removing his glasses and tossing them onto the desk. He clicked off the work lamp and leaned back on his stool, crossing his hands over his chest. “What did I do this time?”

“Did you tell Emmett not to come to New York when I left after graduation?”

Her father scrubbed one hand down his face and grumbled something that sounded a lot like “shit” before he stood.

“Where are you going?” she asked, following behind. “I want to talk about this, Dad.”

“Oh, I know you do, but I need a drink.”

Warner Noble wasn’t a man who drank. He had a drink socially on occasion, but as a general rule, he never kept alcohol in the house.

Or did he? She was beginning to question a lot about her father.

He glanced over his shoulder, halfway down the hall. “You comin’?”

Elle followed behind him, pissed that he was delaying the inevitable. Such a man thing to do, she thought.

Her father walked into the kitchen, reaching into a cabinet above the sink and pulling out a bottle filled with a familiar amber liquid.

“What’s that?”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “Whiskey.”

“But you don’t drink.”

“I do sometimes.”

“Enough to buy an entire bottle?” She noticed the bottle was half empty.

Her father shrugged. “Sometimes Pops comes out and has a shot or two,” he explained.

Probably more like Tanner and Brody draining the bottle dry, she thought, but kept that to herself.

Her father filled a glass with a small amount. “You want one?” he asked.

She shook her head. She was too mad to drink.

She watched as he settled himself in the living room, his feet up on the ottoman as he swirled the whiskey in his glass.

Elle sat on the couch beside him, watching the way the glow of the flames danced off the amber liquid in his tumbler.

His eyes moved from hers to the tumbler and they sat in silence. “Yes,” he finally said quietly, not moving. “I told Emmett not to follow you to New York.”

“Why?”

Her father didn’t look at her. Instead, his gaze was focused on the flames of the fire. Running from an issue was so unlike her father. He was a man that met problems head-on with a determination that inspired Elle.

She sensed something was off and her anger began to fade into worry. “Dad,” Elle prompted quietly.

He turned his head, his dark eyes staring at her, a small smile tugging on his lips. “You look just like your mother.”

Elle nodded. The fact was no surprise, he told her that often. So did other people who had known Gayle Noble. Elle had always been haunted by the loss of her mother. But now wasn’t the time to discuss that.

“Why, Dad?” She wanted him to give her answers, not to walk down memory lane.

“Did you know your mother was a singer? A songwriter, actually. That was her true passion.”

“Yes, I know. She wrote beautiful songs.” On her fifteenth birthday, her father had given her a box of her mother’s original songs. Each was special and unique. Some were happy, others very sad, speaking of longing and regret. Elle had always wondered which of them had been her mother’s story.

One song had stayed with her. It was titled “There Is No Tomorrow,” and had touched Elle so deeply, she’d had it tattooed across her ribs. Her father had never known, until her surgery when he’d helped with bandages. When he’d seen the tattoo, he’d immediately paled. At the time, Elle blamed his reaction on the shock of seeing her wounds but now she wasn’t so sure.

He turned to gaze at the fire but Elle knew he was a million miles away.

“When we found out she was having a girl,” her father spoke, still turned away, “your mother was so happy, on cloud nine. We went straight from the doctor’s office and purchased every piece of girl’s clothing poor Mrs. McGuire had in her boutique. I tried to tell her, ‘Gayle, what if the sonogram is wrong?’ She just patted her stomach and said she knew.” Her father’s head turned and he reached out his hand.

Elle took it, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“Turns out she was right,” he said. “About a lot of things.”

“About what?” Elle asked, scooting to sit on the ottoman to be closer to her father.

“Your mother was in Canyon Creek at a music festival when I met her. She had such an amazing voice. She’d actually been signed to a record label in Nashville, did you know that?”

Elle nodded. She needed answers and it looked like a trip down memory lane was the only road to get there.

“Your mother said she took one look at my blue eyes and she was hooked. I can’t say my reaction was any different.” He looked at Elle and smiled. “Well, maybe a little. For me, it was Gayle’s smile. She lit up my world with that smile. By the end of the festival, I found myself falling in love. I didn’t want her to leave. She didn’t want to either, but her career was calling and I couldn’t ask her to stay.”

Elle knew some of her parents’ story. People would talk about her mom to her when she was growing up. She’d never heard it from her dad, though.

“Why didn’t you go to Nashville with her?” she asked.

“Your grandfather needed me here, at the resort. It had been ingrained in me since I was young that I would take over one day. I never even thought of doing anything else. I loved the resort. Dreaming about a career outside the family business had never even occurred to me. Running the resort was what my father expected.”

And her father would never let Pops down. Elle’s chest tightened.

“What happened?” Elle knew her parents had eventually married, of course, but she didn’t know the story of how it happened.

“Your mother left, went back to Nashville. She was gone probably about two months and then one day just showed up in the resort lobby asking for me. When I found her, she was standing by the fireplace, back to me, suitcase in one hand, guitar case in the other. She was so beautiful, I almost couldn’t believe she was real, that she’d come back. I mean, I’d wanted to ask her to stay but I had no right. Her career was just starting off. She was poised for greatness”

Elle scooted to the edge of ottoman, entranced by her father’s story. “Why did she come back?”

“She was pregnant. Ten weeks.”

Elle drew in a sharp breath, surprised by her father’s words.

“She was lost, trapped. A trap I had unknowingly set.”

“So my mother was pregnant with Brody and Wyatt when you married?”

“Yes,” he said. “But it’s more than that.”

“What is it?”

“After your mother left, I’d started dating someone.”

Sally Sumner. He didn’t even need to say the name.

“I knew your mother wasn’t cut out for the Colorado life. She had a career and dreams she needed to live, so I let her go and tried to move on.”

Just like Emmett had let her go and moved on with his life.

“So, Mom came back, and she was pregnant,” she said. “What did Sally say?”

Her father’s head jerked. “What makes you think the someone was Sally?”

“Woman’s intuition.” And the way Sally acted toward her father whenever they were in the same room. There was a tension there that could only come from a history like this one. She’d never noticed it, until now. “I guess she never forgave you for choosing Mom.”

Her father shook his head. “Worse. I thought Sally understood there were commitments to be made, that I couldn’t just walk away from your mother. But two months after I married your mother, Sally surprised everyone by marrying a Marine, in town on leave. Richard McAlister.” Her father said the name with disgust. “He was horrible, abusive, the worst sort of man, but no one could talk her out of it. I knew I had broken her heart.”

Elle had heard the story of Sally’s abusive husband and how she’d basically eloped. Everyone in town knew that. She’d had no idea it was because of a lost love, though.

“In a lot of ways, I think Sally blames me for marrying Richard. Or maybe blame isn’t the right word. Maybe she just resents me. What happened between us started her down that path with him. It was a long and hellish journey for her, one she didn’t get out of for a long time.”

“She didn’t have to marry anyone, Dad. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I did have to marry someone. And that someone wasn’t Sally.” He gave her a sad smile.

“But you and Sally had only been dating like a month or two.”

He shook his head. “Sally and I had been involved in high school. We’d been pretty serious, so when we got back together after your mom left, it was no small fling.”

Elle’s brows rose. “Oh.” That was news.

“That’s another story for another time.” His words came on a sigh that told her he had a lot of regrets where Sally Sumner was concerned.

Elle agreed. She wanted to know what her father had said to Emmett.

“After your mother told me she was pregnant, she moved here to Canyon Creek and we created an amazing life for ourselves and for you kids. I know she loved you all so much. She always said that being a mother was her highest calling and her greatest accomplishment.”

“But?” Elle could hear the regret in her father’s voice.

“But she had to let go of her passion for music before she was ready. Her label dropped her once they found out she was pregnant. They said there was no way she could tour, and they didn’t want the negative publicity a surprise pregnancy would bring. They wanted her single, with no kids—or not at all. She told them no way, she wanted to marry me, and there was no way she’d abort the baby. So, they made good on their promise and released her.”

Elle cringed at the thought of possibly not having her family. “She still played, though, right?”

“It was never the same, Elle. Your mother had drive and passion like I’d never seen. I lost that when she died. Until I saw you slip on your first pair of ballet shoes and then I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Your mother lived on, inside you. Her spirit was in you, is in you. As you grew and became more passionate about your dance, I vowed to never hold you back, to always let you soar. I would never put any pressure on you or your brothers to stay in Canyon Creek like my father had unknowingly done to me.”

“And you thought Emmett would hold me back.”

“Not intentionally, no. You two were so close, you loved each other. I knew your decision to go to New York for college was hard, and you were still grappling with it even the last part of your senior year. I wanted you to go, I needed you to go.”

“Why?”

“So that you would know. So that when you came back you would be sure.”

“Sure of what?”

“Sure that you’d come back for all the right reasons, not because you were afraid, but because you wanted to be here. I wanted you to fly, spread your wings and grow, become the person you wanted to be.”

“Emmett never held me back, Dad. He was always encouraging me.”

“I don’t think he held you back on purpose, but he loved you. I could see that, even as young children. It’s hard for a man not to hold on to the woman he loves.”

“Emmett never asked me to stay,” she said quietly.

Her father remained silent.

“What?” Elle prompted, needing to understand what he was thinking.

“Your mother stayed here with me. She would tell you she never regretted it, and in her heart, I think she believed that. But I could see the longing, the desire in her eyes. She missed singing, she missed performing. She missed living her dreams.”

Tears pricked Elle eyes.

“I didn’t want that for you. I held your mother too tight, she regretted it some days, I’m sure. I refused to let anyone hold you back. Emmett would have held you back, Elle. I know it, I’d seen that kind of love before. It makes you desperate, willing to do anything to hold on.”

“Are you talking about Mom or Sally?”

“Both,” he said quietly, pausing as he stared at the fire. He drew in a deep breath and turned to face her, taking her hands. “I want you to know, Elle, I loved your mother. With all my heart.”

They sat in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound for a moment.

“I never told Emmett not to go, specifically,” her Dad finally said.

“But you said enough to scare him off.”

“No,” her father corrected. “I told him if he loved you as much as I thought he did, he shouldn’t hold you back. That people get hurt when you try to hold on too tight. It didn’t take much convincing, he knew you were an amazing dancer. But I knew one word from him, one declaration of his love, and you’d be back here, all thoughts and dreams gone.”

Elle couldn’t argue. She and Emmett had never really spoken about the romantic love between them but it had been there for a long time. One spark and it would have exploded, burning all their dreams.

Her father squeezed her hands. “I told myself that if it was true love, if it were meant to be, life would bring you back together.”

“So, what about you and Sally?”

Her father released her hands and sat back in his chair. “What about us?”

“Was it true love for you two?” she asked, thinking of the anger in Sally’s eyes when she looked at Elle’s dad. Anger that Elle had a feeling came from a place of hurt, and regret. A feeling she knew too well.

“Fate hasn’t brought us back together,” he said quietly.

“Maybe it has and you’re both just too stubborn to see it.”

Her father laughed. “Highly doubtful. Sally Sumner hates me with a purple passion. Always has.”

“Sometimes people hide their love behind anger,” Elle said.

“Is that what Emmett did?”

“I think so, but he had a right. I did some not-so-nice things.” She didn’t really want to recount the details to her dad.

“You didn’t tell Emmett about the cancer, did you? The night you saw him in New York?”

Elle’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know about that?”

“They don’t call your brother the Mouth of the South for nothing.”

Tanner. Elle wanted to be angry with her brother, but thinking about what her dad was saying overshadowed everything. Fate had brought Elle and Emmett together in New York, and now they were both back in Canyon Creek. Perhaps it was true love after all.

“Take it from me, sweetheart,” her father spoke softly, with such a forlorn look on his face it made her heart ache. “I know all too well that one single decision can change the entire course of your life. It was wrong of me to make that decision for you. It should have been yours, and Emmett’s. And it should have been your mother’s.”

Elle heard the tremor in her father’s voice and it broke her heart. How long had he carried this guilt? “Oh, Dad,” she said, reaching out to hug him.

He drew her into his arms. “I didn’t want to let you go either back then. God, I didn’t. It was so hard to put you on that plane.” He shook his head against her shoulder. “But you needed to find yourself, you needed to live your dream. I let you go, only to almost lose you in the end,” he choked out, his voice hoarse with emotion as he hugged her tighter.

Elle clutched him to her like he might be torn away, tears streaming down her face. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m okay, I promise.”

He nodded and kissed her head. It was her father’s way. He would break down in small ways that never lasted for long. He had become a master at hiding his emotions.

Elle sat up in his lap. “Did you love Mom? Even though you felt you had to marry her?”

“Oh, God,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I adored your mother. And she loved me, too. We had a great life together. But I know she always wondered what her life would have been like if things had been different.” Her father brushed away a stray hair on her forehead. He’d had to be mother and father her entire life and he’d done it so beautifully that sometimes Elle forget he’d been in mourning, too. “I never wanted you to have that regret, Elle.”

“I know, Dad.” She softly kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me enough to let me go.”