She should be happy. Considering Naomi hadn’t thought they’d even get Gracie to come to dinner, she should be glad things were going so well between Mark and her daughter. Their daughter. So why did her eyes tear up every time she looked at the two of them?
“He’s really good with her,” Jessa said quietly, coming up behind her. They were in the kitchen getting dessert set out.
“He is.” From across the room, she watched the two of them chat at the dinner table. Gracie was telling Mark about her Cinderella performance and all of the men at the table were oohing and aahing over her theatrical details.
Lucas sat across from Gracie, and Naomi couldn’t help but notice that her daughter seemed to pay him special attention, as though they had a bond. And they did. When she’d stood outside that room listening to the two of them talk, it had hit her that they had something in common she could never understand. She hadn’t even known about the owl that was now stuffed into the pocket of his shirt.
“Gracie sure seems enamored with Lucas all of a sudden,” Jessa commented with an airy nonchalance.
“Yeah.” She sighed, unable to take her eyes off the man so she could focus on cutting the pie.
“Almost as enamored as someone else,” her friend murmured, sliding the pie away and cutting it herself.
“You should’ve heard him talking to her, Jess,” she whispered. “He was perfect. So empathetic. He knew exactly what to say.”
“So remind me again why it won’t work with you two.” Her friend started to dish generous slices of pie onto delicate china plates.
She had to remind herself, too. “I can’t add more change to Gracie’s life right now.” She picked up the ice cream scoop and plopped oversized helpings right on top of the pie slices. “And I have to protect her.” That was why she’d never dated anyone seriously, why she’d never brought a man home. “What if Gracie got attached to him and things didn’t work out?”
Jessa turned to her, those expressive brown eyes calling her out. “Are you sure it’s Gracie you’re worried about?”
The question silenced her. No. She wasn’t sure. Not at all.
“Your life will likely look different in a year,” her friend reminded her. “I know it won’t happen now, but eventually Gracie might want to go visit Mark on the weekends. And she might want to spend a couple of weeks with him in the summer.”
An itch scraped at the back of Naomi’s throat, but she cleared the sadness away. Jessa was right. Gracie would want to know her father. She’d want to know her half-brother.
Jessa took the ice cream scoop out of her hand and finished filling everyone’s plates. “You’ve put your life on hold for a long time, hon,” she said gently. “But I’m not so sure you have to do that anymore. Gracie wouldn’t want to be the reason you won’t let yourself find happiness with Lucas.”
“It’s not that simple.” Jessa made it sound like all you had to do was flip over a rock and there they would be—the dreams you’d buried a long time ago. A lifetime ago. “I was a different person when he loved me.” She’d been more carefree and less stressed and skinnier and lighter and more fun. Now she was a mom, and she didn’t know how to be that girl anymore.
Jessa took both of her hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. “Darlin’, that man still loves you. Seems to me that’s all that matters.” She let her hands go and gathered up as many plates as she could carry. “Dessert’s on!” she called, sashaying across the room.
Naomi followed, somehow balancing two plates in each hand. She served Gracie, then Mark, then Lucas, who laid a hand on the small of her back and said, “Thanks.”
Such a simple touch, yet it reached all the way to her heart. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, setting the last plate at her spot. Somehow, she managed to get herself in the chair without stumbling.
“This was one amazing meal,” Mark said, sawing his fork into the pie. “Seriously, everyone. Thanks for letting me share it with you.”
“Of course,” Jessa said in her usual polite way.
Naomi thought she saw her kick Lance under the table.
He sat up straighter. “Yeah. Glad you could be here,” he said as though his fiancée had made him rehearse ahead of time.
Luis, however, remained stonily silent, just as he had all through dinner. It would take more than polite talk for Mark to earn his way back into that man’s good graces.
“How long are you staying, Dad?” Gracie asked.
Dad? The easy way she said it almost made Naomi drop her fork.
“Well…” He looked at Naomi as though summoning her approval. “I thought I’d stay through Tuesday, if that’s okay with everyone. I took a few days off.”
“Of course.” Naomi forced out the words as she cut into her pie. Not that she’d be able to eat one damn bite.
“There’s a concert in the park tomorrow night,” he went on. “I’d love it if you two would join me.”
“A concert! I love concerts in the park,” Gracie squealed.
The rest of the room quieted and Naomi felt the weight of all of their stares. Especially Lucas’s.
“Can we go, Mom?” Gracie pulled on her arm.
Easing out a breath, she dropped her hands into her lap, pinching them into fists. That was the only way she could keep them still. “Um, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” she croaked out. She couldn’t give Gracie the wrong idea. If the three of them spent time together, Gracie might read too much into it. She might think there was a chance they’d end up together…
“Lance and I were planning to go,” Jessa piped up.
Her fiancé’s jaw dropped. “Wha—?”
“Maybe we can sit together,” she offered before Lance could ask too many questions.
Naomi cast her a grateful look. Jessa would drag Lance to the concert and they’d keep an eye on Gracie for her.
“So I can go, Mom? I can go with Dad?” Gracie asked, a smear of berry pie on her chin.
“You can go,” she managed, pinching her hands harder.
“Great. That’s great.” Mark’s eyes crinkled with gratitude. “We’ll be gone two hours, tops,” he promised. “I’ll pick her up at six thirty and have her back by eight thirty.”
“That sounds fine.” As long as Jessa and Lance were there to keep an eye on her. Underneath the table, Lucas’s boot brushed her foot lightly, just a small, slight touch as though he knew she needed it.
The conversation then veered into talk of the stock operation—mainly about Reckoning II. Mark asked questions and Lance even invited him to take a look at the bull after they all finished their pie. Naomi shoved in a few bites, just to keep up appearances, then she quickly stood and stacked the empty plates. The conversation didn’t seem to lull as she rinsed them and filled the dishwasher. Needing a few seconds of quiet, cold space, she slipped out onto the back patio.
The sun had already set, leaving behind only the watery cerulean marks of the day. A cool breeze washed over her, fanning her hair and purging the anxious perspiration from her skin. Jessa was right. Her life could look so different in a year. And what would she have if Gracie started to spend more time with Mark and his family? She’d have the inn. But no one to share it with…
The creaking of the back door forced her eyes closed. She didn’t have to turn around. Lucas’s presence always managed to overpower her.
For a few moments she simply tried to breathe, but the fast pounding of her heart weakened her lungs. There was no meditative breathing when Lucas Cortez was around.
“I’m proud of you,” he finally said in that ruggedly low tenor. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It hurt like hell,” she admitted, turning to face him. She expected him to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead he simply opened his arms, making a place for her as though he knew she simply needed to be held.
She wobbled into his embrace and his arms closed around her, shutting out the rest of the world—all the hard stuff, the ugly stuff. He was warmth and strength and peace, but fire, too. All-consuming. And her body fit so perfectly against his, sinking into his powerful chest. “I need you to remind me who I am,” she uttered, knowing he wouldn’t think she sounded crazy. He’d known that brave, sure girl who didn’t shy away from risks. “I think maybe I’ve forgotten.”
“That’s okay,” Lucas said, leaning down to kiss her lips. “Because I remember.” And when his mouth moved over hers in that seductive rhythm, she knew he could help her remember, too.
* * *
Lucas believed in volunteerism. Ever since he’d gotten out of prison, he’d done his best to “contribute to society” and “focus on the greater good.” Those phrases had been a part of his early release agreement, but he liked doing so, too. For a while he’d volunteered at a homeless shelter down in Pueblo. And while he’d had a shitty couple of years, they were nothing compared to what those men and women were facing. Compared to living on the streets, prison had been like a hotel—free meals, shelter. Hell, they even got to lift in a gym. Sitting across the table from a homeless man who’d lost all of his teeth from malnutrition only proved that things could always be worse. It’d given him a different perspective, made him appreciate what he’d managed to build after walking out of his cell. A lot of his comrades had ended up back in the cycle, then eventually like the man with no teeth.
While he’d had to volunteer, it really did make him feel like he was part of something bigger, something more important.
But today, his volunteerism definitely had ulterior motives. Motive, he should say. And her name was Naomi. He hadn’t seen much of her since Mark had come for dinner. They were both busy—he got that—but it seemed she was still avoiding him. The next time he saw her, he wanted to talk through the future, tell her he was committed to being here. It’d sure help if Bill McGowen would get back to him so he could officially resign.
Lucas sliced the whirring chain saw through a small ten-foot tree that’d been riddled with pine beetles. Those damn bugs had killed a fourth of the trees in this forest, leaving behind empty, blackened shells. All it would take was one spark and those trees would become instant torches, shooting flames fifty feet into the air.
The tree fell easily, collapsing in a heap of dead wood and dust. Lucas moved down the trunk, slicing it into sections like a tenderloin, then stacking the logs neatly in a pile.
The town had been sending in other teams to collect the fallen wood and store it out on the edge of City Park, planning to offer it free to families who needed extra help heating their homes when winter came. The cutting crew had gotten up here about six o’clock that morning, and Lucas had silently joined them. Both Lance and Levi had had plans for the day, so he was on his own. So far, he’d managed to avoid any trouble, but he’d seen Marshal Dobbins farther up the mountain twenty minutes ago and he figured he wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever.
In fact, it might be time to get the confrontation over with. Something told him Dobbins was fueling the town’s anger against him. He wouldn’t be shocked if Marshal was the one who’d vandalized his truck. But they weren’t in high school anymore, and it was high time he stopped acting like it.
Lucas worked his way up the slope, sawing through the small dead trees he could take care of by himself, then stopped to glug some of the water he’d thrown in his backpack earlier.
As he leaned against a tree stump, footsteps thrashed through the brush behind him. He turned.
Marshal Dobbins was hiking down the slope, dragging his chain saw behind him.
“Hey,” Lucas said, standing upright. “Tough work up here today, huh?” He figured it didn’t hurt to try and make conversation.
Dobbins stopped, his glare darker than a black hole. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Same thing you are,” he said before casually taking another sip of water. What else would he be doing out here with a chain saw? Marshal had never been the sharpest tool in the shed.
The man stomped down the hill until he stood across from him. The years seemed to have worn down his face. His brown eyes were bloodshot and miserable. “When are you gonna figure it out, Cortez? You’re not wanted here.”
There were plenty of people who’d argue that. “I grew up here,” he reminded him. “My family’s here.” The woman he loved was here. And she seemed to like the idea of him sticking around when he’d mentioned it, albeit briefly. Which meant no one would drive him away. Especially not Marshal Dobbins. “Actually, I’m thinking about moving back.” So Marshal might as well get used to seeing him around.
“And why would you want to do that when everyone in town thinks you belong in prison?” the man asked, his face a mask of hatred.
“Already served my time.” Lucas didn’t look away. He’d even written the Dobbins family an apology, though he hadn’t committed the crime. “It’s time to put the past behind us. Don’t you think?” Moving on didn’t seem to be Marshal’s specialty. He was pretty sure the man had worn that same Metallica shirt in high school.
“No one wants you around. Understand?” Dobbins stepped up to Lucas, raising his shoulders as though trying to intimidate him.
It was all Lucas could do not to laugh.
“No one wants a felon hanging around Topaz Falls.”
“Guess it’s not your decision.” It wasn’t like Marshal was revered in town or anything. He owned the auto body shop and was the best mechanic in a fifty-mile radius, so people had to put up with him, but Lucas wouldn’t say he was well-liked. “I’ve already done my time. I’ve apologized to your family. What else do you want from me?”
The man’s face was strangely expressionless. “I want you gone.” His grip tightened on the chain saw he held in his hand. Instead of making him look intimidating, the whole thing was starting to border on pathetic.
“Like I said, not your decision.” He went to walk away. Obviously, Dobbins wasn’t going to let it go, which meant Lucas wasn’t going to waste any more time apologizing.
“You know my dad’s dead?” Marshal barked after him. “He lost everything because of what you did.”
He turned back to Marshal. The fallout from the fire hadn’t caused all of George Dobbins’s issues. He’d had a gambling problem to go along with his drinking problem ever since Lucas could remember. “I’m sorry about your dad.” He was. Genuinely. “But it’s not my fault he left. And I already paid for my crime.” For Levi’s crime. He’d given up the girl he loved, abandoned her for too many years. And he was done. He was done doing penance for something that had already been paid for. He was done worrying about how people saw him. He was done sacrificing time with Naomi. And he planned to prove it to her tonight.
“I swear to God you’re gonna regret coming back, Cortez.”
Lucas didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, he picked up his chain saw and walked away. Kept right on walking down the slope. In a clearing below, he caught sight of Dev stacking wood. Just the person he wanted to see.
“Hey there,” Dev said as Lucas approached. He wiped his forehead with a bandana. It might have only been eight o’clock in the morning, but the temperature was already rising. “It’s good to see you out here, Cortez.”
“Not everyone thinks so.” Lucas checked over his shoulder but Dobbins had disappeared into the trees. “What’s up with Marshal?”
“He’s been in a bad mood for months now.” The deputy seemed to shrug it off. “Heard he and Jen are separated. Sounds pretty bad. Besides that, the man knows how to hold a grudge. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. People in town don’t exactly listen to Marshal Dobbins.”
“That’s good to hear.” He dropped the chain saw so he could give Dev a hand with the pile of logs. “’Cause I’m thinking about sticking around a while.”
“Yeah?” Dev looked surprised. “I thought you were some big rock star down at the McGowen place.”
“Thinking about making a change. Lance needs some help getting his operation going.” He peered over to gauge Dev’s reaction. The man didn’t seem to think it was a bad idea at all.
“It’d be great to have you back,” he said. “From what I hear, your family could use the help. It’s a competitive business. You seem to have a good handle on it.”
“I like to think so.” He’d been studying it for seven years. Considering he’d had nothing else in his life, he bordered on being a workaholic. Something told him he’d find a better work and life balance in Topaz Falls. Though he’d definitely have other challenges. “So do you have any leads on who might’ve messed up my truck?” he asked, stacking another log.
“Nothing conclusive.” Dev shot him a dry smile. “Though I have some suspicions.”
Yeah. He wasn’t the only one. “Have you asked Dobbins?”
“He’s the first person I talked to.” Dev dropped another log onto the stack with a grunt. “He was shocked. Knew nothing about it.” The man had always excelled in the art of sarcasm.
“Of course not.” Didn’t appear that he had to tell Dev he was ninety-nine percent sure Marshal had slashed his tires. Other folks in town might not take too kindly to him, but in his estimation few were as vindictive as Dobbins.
“I’ve got my eye on him,” Dev said. “Don’t worry. I’m on your side in this thing.”
“That means a lot.” If he had Dev on his side, he had a better chance at winning over everyone else, too.