Chapter Nine
“Ryder?”
Peyton hadn’t needed to speak. Ryder had known she was approaching long before her boots crunched the pebbles lining the shore of the lake. And he’d been expecting some type of confrontation. The dinner last night had been an epic fail of two people who needed to find a way to get along for the sake of their daughter. He imagined Peyton had started planning this little rendezvous two seconds after she’d exited the cab of his truck.
She stepped up beside him and his body urged him to sidle closer. He’d be damned if he listened to it.
“I love this time of day. The way the ridge reflects on the surface.”
He grunted. Not because he didn’t have an opinion. Honestly he’d thought of the reflection of Sky Lake often, but he didn’t know where she was headed with this and the quickest away to get Peyton to reveal her plans was to let her lead.
“I’m sorry.”
Shock had his head whipping around and his gaze pinning hers. Amusement sparkled in the green depths. Yep, she was totally following her plan, complete with the unexpected ambush.
“For what?”
“For not recognizing why last night became so hard for you.”
Ryder crossed his arms and looked back at the reflective waters. “My issue. No apologies needed.”
A small hand touched his arm and her compassion flowed through him. His body tensed, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shrugging it off.
“It’s our issue, Ryder. And we need to air it. Find a way to handle these moments, before Friday.”
God, why did she have to make sense? Seemed childish but there it was. “I just need time, Peyton. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Hands gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. Fire blazed in the pale depths. “We don’t have time. You’re lucky to have the brief reprieve we do. Mel deserves two parents who love her and want the best for her. She does not deserve a sulky bear of a father who keeps beating himself up. She’ll end up blaming herself for it.”
He gripped her fingers and pulled them away. The heat of her touch lingering and flowing to join the anger pulsing through his veins. “Sulky? You think I’m sulking. Of course I’m beating myself up. I am to blame, Peyton. I lost too much. Ten years that Adam will have. Ten years that you had and my parents had. I deserve to sulk. I deserve to feel like this. It’s my punishment.”
She crossed her arms and jutted out her chin, and he waited for the denial.
“Maybe you’re right. I’m not going to discount your feelings or your pain. But you will have to let it stop ruling you. You’re here. The choices of the past have been made and this is the hand you’re playing with. If you continue to view your pain as penance you will miss out on everything in front of you. Everything you worked for all these years. I still don’t know why you left, but I believe in the man I loved, and I believe that your decision made back then was one you felt you had to make.”
He stared at the surface of the lake, Peyton’s words rolling over him searching for an entrance into his soul. If he let go of the pain, let go of the resentment and self-hatred, what then?
“Where does that leave me? Us?” Not sure he wanted her answer or the plan he was sure she had.
“It leaves us here. Right now. Not ten years ago, and not ten years in the future. I can’t take back you not knowing about Mel any more than you can take back leaving. It’s not fair. But it is what it is.”
“So that’s it. I can’t get angry at myself or upset.”
Another touch. More compassion as her hand found his and squeezed. “No, Ryder. You can get angry and upset. But you get angry and upset with me. Talk with me. Put it on me. I am strong enough to take it. We used to be good at that. Communicating. I wish you’d talked to me all those years ago. I would have listened. But I need you to talk with me now. Mel needs you to talk with me. None of this is on her. Our problems are ours.”
Ryder yanked her to him and they held on to one another. He could do this. Find a way with Peyton. The strong woman could handle his pain and anger. She would weather it just as she’d weathered raising their daughter.
“Come on, let’s walk the lake.”
The strolled side by side and Peyton talked of Mel. Stories of her childhood, her illnesses, her personality, and Ryder absorbed it as a parched man who’d discovered water in the desert.
The day, the conversation, the memories, the companionship all combined to bring a little closure to the past and a pathway to their future. They’d reached the benches on the far side of the lake and by mutual decision settled side by side into one.
The place held meaning to them. The sight of their first night together. Did she remember?
As if on cue, Peyton smiled and said, “Now don’t get fresh here, Mr. Marks.”
Ryder barked out a laugh and he smiled at the easiness on her expression.
“It was a pretty spectacular night, if I do say so myself.”
Peyton shrugged, and Ryder narrowed his gaze. “Don’t tempt me, Ms. Brooks.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “Spectacular all the way.”
They both looked away. “I just hope it doesn’t get too changed with the sale.”
“Sale?” It took every ounce of strength to not fidget in his seat and keep his gaze firmly planted on the water. The last thing he needed right now was for Peyton to find out about his role in the sale. They were on uneven if not bumpy footing and telling her would mean spilling details about his leaving. Having just found a measure of peace between them, he didn’t want to reintroduce the issue. But he would. He should before Mel got home on Friday. Before his father returned. She needed to know, and he prayed she would understand.
“Technically, we no longer own this property.”
He needed out of there. She was too astute. Too in tune to him even after all this time.
He shifted forward and stood. A clear case of “there’s more to this reaction than I can figure out” spilled across her heart-shaped features. Before she could question him, Max Fields, one of the permanent ranch hands, came through the trees, leading some guests. Peyton rose from the bench and stood next to Ryder as Max charmed the trio of beauties with a story about how the herd of wild mustangs supposedly started from a horse that escaped from Sky Lake. Ryder swallowed his smile. He’d started that rumor when he was fourteen, trying to do the exact same thing Max was. Impress a few girls.
As they headed off the way they’d come, Peyton’s gaze came back to him with a question. She hadn’t forgotten his unusual response to her mention of the sale.
“Thank you for today.” He kissed her cheek. “But I forgot an appointment I need to get to.”
Peyton cocked her head, clearly trying to figure out what she was missing. “You’re welcome.”
“So tomorrow. Maybe we can meet at the lodge for lunch and figure out some stuff for Friday?”
Peyton nodded.
She must have watched him make his escape as the itching between his shoulder blades joined the guilt weighting each step. He knew what she’d seen in his evasiveness. Sky Lake was his legacy. Why hadn’t he been upset or shocked? Why hadn’t he asked more questions? Ryder had no doubt Peyton now knew there was a missing puzzle piece and he also knew she wouldn’t rest until she figured it out. Better to attack than play defense. Looked like tomorrow he would find out what Peyton would have done all those years ago if he had confessed to her.
…
Ryder waved to a few hands and walked through the main doors of the lodge. Had it really been less than a week since he stepped over that threshold after his long absence? He let himself take in the sight, let the memories flow through and bring a smile to his face. This was his home. His legacy. And now it would be his daughter’s legacy, too. He may have done a lot of things in the past ten years to show his father and, even more himself, the kind of man he was. But deep down it all stemmed from this place. Wanting to ensure Sky Lake lasted for years and generations to come. To make it the same and better simultaneously. To remember its roots but bring it forward to the world they lived in today.
Awareness broke his trip down memory lane, and sure enough Peyton stood in the doorway of the dining room. He smiled and went over to her. They had seemed to reach a peace with their past. Well, at least she seemed to have, and he was trying very hard to do the same.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. Why?”
“You were looking around. Staring, to be more precise.”
“Relax. All’s well in Peyton’s domain. I was just remembering.”
“Oh.” She blushed, and he let her believe that he might have been remembering them. Lord knew they had certainly christened quite a few places on this ranch. Although the main hall had been spared. Technically.
She led him over to the table framed by the window. Strategic planning on her part, no doubt.
“Nice choice for a table.”
She glanced out the window and shrugged. “You weren’t the only one remembering.”
Her words warmed him. Brought the past into the forefront and smudged the blurry lines of their current situation. Not enough to jump feet first into a future but enough to make him remember all the reasons he once loved her, and maybe could love her again.
They settled, and she poured them each a glass of lemonade. He hadn’t even swallowed when she launched into what he assumed was a well-rehearsed speech.
“It dawns on me that while you pretty much know what I have been up to over the years, I have no idea about your life other than you might have been cold once or twice.”
Ahhh, deflect and focus so she could pick apart and try to read him. Good luck with that. “I’m sure my mother shared what I was up to during my time away.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Really? That’s how you’re going to tackle all this between us. Vague answers. If we can’t settle this, work through it, come up with a game plan, then Friday will not happen. We have one goal together. Mel.”
He squeezed his thigh under the table and counted to ten. She was right. He needed to do this. Needed to put the past on the table so they could figure out a future. He grabbed the lemonade and took a swig, running his other hand down the leg of his jeans, trying to clear some of the sweat. Her support could mean everything right now. It should have meant everything back then. No, he couldn’t focus on the what-ifs any longer. As Peyton said, they could only control moving forward.
“I was in Alaska. I became a logger and over the years built a career.” And a business. He couldn’t say the words. “It was hard and lonely, and at times I have no idea why I continued to do it, but I’m here and the man I am today because of it.”
She searched his face, the harsh, tense lines bracketing her luscious mouth, easing into something resembling pity and concern.
“Why did you leave?” She’d asked the question to the window. Ever in tune, she understood just as he did that it was so pivotal to where they found themselves today.
“Because of my dad.”
Her gaze snapped to his. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Peyton speechless wasn’t something many got to witness.
“Did he tell you to leave?”
“Not directly, but he insinuated that Sky Lake would be better off without me.”
The sucked in breath echoed through the almost empty dining room. She reached across and squeezed his hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He reversed the position of their hands. Her belief in what he shared evident by the choice of her questions. The concern emanating from her green eyes bringing home the strength of the regret in making the choice to leave her uninformed all those years ago.
“I’m not sure now. Back then I think I feared that you would brush it off. That you wouldn’t listen to me, or would tell me to man up or deal with it in your typical take-everything-by-the-horns kind of way. To hear that from you would have crushed me.”
They stared at one another. She knew as much as he what that choice led to. What road it forced them both to travel.
“Did you miss this?”
She’d waved her free hand around the room but something in her tone told him she meant more than just Sky Lake.
“Every. Damn. Day.”
They let the sum of his confessions digest as food magically appeared and they dug in. She brought him up to date on her grandmother and some of the older residents. He noticed she avoided mention of her parents and his and gave nothing more than a snippet of what she had been up to.
“Do you think we can do this?”
She dropped her fork “Do what?”
“Move on and focus on Mel.”
“Yes, I do. If you’re serious about being a part of her life from here on forward, then I will respect and support it. She deserves to know you and what you have become. I think the bigger question is, can you?”
“I can’t forget what happened. What I lost over the years. What my pride cost me.” He chased a potato around on his plate. “But I want to focus on moving forward.”
She didn’t argue with him. They’d both said what needed to be said about the past. Maybe one day he would be able to tell her the degree to which his father played a role, but at least she knew now. It had nothing to do with her, or him not loving her, and had everything to do with him needing to prove himself. Peyton reached under the table and set a cedar box in the middle of the white tablecloth.
“I brought this for you. Maybe it will help in some ways.” She stood and brushed a kiss on his cheek, leaving him staring at the engraved name. Melanie Lee. His daughter shared his middle name.
Ryder waited until Peyton’s boot heels could no longer be heard. He stared at the surface of the wood while his fingers flexed on the edge of the wooden box. Inside were pieces of his daughter that only a mother would keep. Would find value in. There were ten years that Ryder would never get back. But in handing this to him, she was offering what little help she could.
He lifted the lid and the top object was worn and frayed with stains and holes littered throughout. He thought it might have been blue at one time but the almost ivory color showed age, but more, he guessed, it showed love.
…
Peyton studied the painting as Emily adjusted it to have the spotlight hit at the right angle. Her friend stepped back, and the canvas came to life. The cowboy boot sparkled in the sunlight as it sat in the middle of Clapton field, perspective making it as tall as the aspen trees in the background.
“I see being pregnant hasn’t affected your creativity.”
Emily blushed and cradled her non-existent bump. “No, but it has made me restless at night with all the nausea, so I paint until I can’t hold the brush.”
“I predict this won’t be hanging here long.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It is definitely different. I was inspired by those huge cowboy boots you see in Cheyenne.”
Peyton nodded, angling her head and watching the colors shift from vibrant to muted with that slightest adjustment.
The cowbell clanged and both women turned to see the customer. Peyton inhaled sharply and gripped the edge of her shirt.
Ryder hesitated, then stepped forward and tipped his hat. “Ladies.” His gaze lingered on her longer than she liked, and Peyton ignored the sweeping intensity. This thing between them flared a bit brighter each time they were together and now, knowing a small portion of what sent him running all those years ago, she found her reasons for staying platonic fraying the ends of a rope that could unravel her whole life.
“Can I help you find something?” Emily asked, her voice slightly strained. Peyton got it. The three of them had last been in the same room during the dinner. A moment that should have been a happy occasion, but with Peyton and Ryder’s history it had instead imploded.
He took off his hat and rubbed a palm down his jeans. He glanced between them, a slight blush visible above his beard.
Unease spread throughout. Why on earth was he here? Surely not for her.
“I was hoping to pick up some art supplies.”
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a few.” Emily laughed, and Ryder smiled.
“What’s your poison?”
“Excuse me?”
Peyton stepped away and toward the baskets of yarn. Ryder was clearly uneasy over her presence. Their past and present combined to make a Rorschach of a future. Depending on how you viewed it, it could lead to so many things.
“What is your medium of choice? What supplies?”
Another glance her way and she couldn’t help but voice a question with her expression.
“They’re not for me. They’re for…my daughter.”
The only sound in the store came through the muted glass as the rest of Fly Creek went about their business. The three people inside the store were bouncing glances off one another like an errant ping-pong ball.
“Umm, excuse me for one minute, Ryder. I forgot about my tea. Upstairs. On the stove. I’ll be right back to help you.”
Emily all but sprinted past Peyton and up the steps in the back of the store to what used to be her apartment.
All sorts of emotions swirled through Peyton as she stared at the man she’d once loved. She should be happy. Thrilled. Impressed that he would want to do something like this for Mel. And yet a small bit of jealousy existed and grew with each second. She was here to buy something for Mel. Why should he get to take that over?
Ryder moistened his lips several times and stepped closer to her. “In the box, the drawings you saved? I thought maybe she would like something. For when she gets home.”
Peyton nodded. Her throat suddenly so tight that even swallowing seemed impossible. He was vulnerable at the moment. Unsure even though it was clear he wanted to do something. Hadn’t that been why she gave him the box? To let him have a small glimpse of Mel. Only a small part of her didn’t want to share. Didn’t like that Mel might have one more person to squeeze into her little heart. Did that make less room in there for Peyton?
“Any suggestions?”
Mentally pulling up her bootstraps, she managed a tight smile. “Water colors or pastels seem to be what she’s into at the moment. Emily has been giving her lessons ever since a paint night last year.”
“Thanks.”
Peyton turned back to the yarn, praying Emily was listening and would return. Too many things were happening too fast. She didn’t want Ryder here, but she couldn’t help but be attracted to him jumping feet first into this father thing. She didn’t want to be attracted any more than she was. She needed to remind herself that he might not stay and if he did that trusting him and protecting her heart would become impossible. Especially if he kept doing things like this.
“So where are you staying?”
Panic flowed briefly and he shuffled his feet. He was hiding something. She looked closer but levelheaded and calm Ryder was back in place.
“The cottage for now.”
Hmmm. Would he be looking for something more permanent or was one of her fears already in the works? If staying away for ten years was so damn easy, he could easily do it again.
So why did the thought of him leaving again cause her stomach to clench? Four days was nothing. Hell, she’d spent more time with the guests at the ranch than Ryder. And yet, she now found herself looking for his dark head, his cocky stride, his scruffy face. Partly to avoid any more surprise visits but more just to look. To remember. To dream.
Boot heels on the wooden steps announced Emily’s return. She smiled and winked at Peyton and proceeded to help Ryder gather a nice basket of goodies for Mel.
Two more days and their daughter would be home.