Timber Creek

“Thank you, Helen.” He squeezed her hand and pressed it to his cheek. He knew not to try for more than that. “I’ll show you. I’ll prove to you how I can be a better man.”



He would prove his worth to her every day for the rest of his life. He’d seen the edge of the precipice, and he wasn’t going back, ever again.



Thirty-five



Laura shoved her suitcase into the back of her car. He’d told her to go. To stay gone. She slammed the trunk shut. He’d called her a robot.



Fine, then. She’d be the best, most successful damned robot Sierra Falls had ever seen. Only this time she wasn’t going to come back until she was driving a damned Porsche. A red one.



“Do you have to leave now?” Sorrow came and leaned against her car. It was super early, and her sister had thrown on an ancient high school hoodie over her pajamas. Her hair was a messy, early-morning tangle.



Emotion clawed Laura’s throat. All her posturing was just a lie. She’d be dying to come back home—would probably be home again by the end of the month. She’d just hide in the lodge next time, maybe park around back where people couldn’t see she was there. Where nobody would think she’d returned with her tail between her legs. “Afraid so.”



She needed to leave before the breakfast crowd showed at the tavern. Before she saw that red pickup driving down the road, where this time it wouldn’t stop. She pasted a smile on her face. “I want to miss the Bay Bridge traffic.”



Sorrow gave her a probing look, likely seeing what Laura had tried to hide, but all the mascara in the world couldn’t mask a sleepless night of crying. “Come in and get some food at least.”



“I’m not hungry.” More like, she didn’t think she could choke anything down. Her stomach was a knot.



“Toast,” Sorrow said. “Coffee. Something.” It was clear her sister wouldn’t give up.



She peeked at her cell. She was checking the time but couldn’t help but notice there were no calls. No texts. No Eddie.



“It’s still so early,” Sorrow said, guessing her concern. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”



“Okay.” She stopped trying to force the smile—her sister understood. “Just coffee. I don’t think I can do anything else.”



Sorrow unlocked the door, and Laura went to turn up the thermostat. She loved the quiet, chill feeling of the tavern in the morning. That feeling of solitude. The first flick-flick of the kitchen lights.



The sadness made her feel so heavy. She sagged into a booth away from the window. “I’ll miss this.”



“I still don’t understand why you have to go.”



She wasn’t fully comprehending, either. It was happening fast, like a riptide sweeping her away. She hadn’t reported the owls because she didn’t want to ruin Eddie’s business. He was a hero to those Reno kids, and she didn’t have the heart to do something that might change that. But in not reporting the nesting ground to the authorities, she was letting the hotel construction continue, which could very well hurt her family business.



Her only choice was to help her family in another way. And there was no greater help than money. Seeing Ellie’s ordeal had brought back chilling memories of medical bills, insurance deductibles, all those fears for the future. But if she took her old job back, the practical fears would disappear.



Moving back to San Francisco. It’d been easy enough to go there in her head—she’d done it so many times. Had convinced herself so many times that leaving Sierra Falls was what she wanted. What was best for her family. Only now she feared she was going through the motions.



Sorrow tossed the tavern keys onto the table. “I know you want to get out of here, like, ten minutes ago, but sit. For one second. And don’t move.”



God, she loved her baby sister. She raised her hand, promising. “Got it.”



As she listened to Sorrow bustle in the kitchen, she checked her phone again. Since she’d given her CEO the thumbs-up, there’d been a flurry of e-mails from the human resources department. Benefits information. The contract for her to sign. Appointments she needed to make. The details about her stock grant.



Benefits, stock… It was the mantra she kept in her head. She had to keep repeating it. Had to keep reminding herself she was doing this for them. Whenever she stopped, too many doubts stabbed her.



She had all kinds of things to sign, but of course there wasn’t a fax at the lodge. She clicked off the phone with a sigh. It was okay. She’d be back in the city by lunch. Maybe she’d head straight to the office.



She’d sign her contract, and then the decision would be made.



Sorrow reappeared with two mugs bearing the Thirsty Bear logo.



She breathed in deeply. “You made the good coffee.”



“All my coffee is good coffee.” Sorrow settled across from her with a smile. “But yes, I made your gross super-strong French press coffee.”



Tears pricked her eyes, and she pursed her lips to stop them. She’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t break down in front of anyone. Not even her sister.



“I’m going to throttle that man the next time I see him.” Sorrow leaned forward and took her hand.



“It’s not Eddie’s fault.” She pulled away. Too much contact, and she would lose it. “I was stupid to think there was anything there.”



“You don’t have to leave because of it.”



“I’m not leaving because of Eddie,” she insisted. Not really, anyway. “I’ve got a killer bonus package. I figure if I work even for two, three years, I can sock away enough to cover what Dad’s IRA doesn’t.”



“Forget that.” Sorrow squeezed her hand. “Dad has enough saved. We own the place outright. We are sitting on a gold mine, right?” she joked, referring to the veins of gold running deep through the rock, too deep for anyone to touch.



She laughed, and it was good to have a moment’s respite from the intensity. “Don’t tell Dad that. I’m sure he has dreams of being Prospector Pete.”



The door jingled as Helen came in, and Sorrow checked the clock over the bar. “You’re early.”



Helen’s eyes went from Sorrow in her jammies, to her, probably looking ready to crack. “Do you need me to come back?”



Laura tried her smile again, but she knew it was stiff. “Not at all. I’ll be hitting the road soon. Just grabbing some fuel for the drive.” She sipped her coffee—it was still too hot, but she needed something to burn away the emotion.



Helen tied on her apron. “I wanted to get out, grab some time to think.”



“Work is good for that sometimes,” Sorrow said, filling the uneasy silence. “Don’t mind us.”



“I’ll get everything going in the kitchen, then.” Helen disappeared into the back.



“Good.” Her sister leaned forward. “Now I have even more time to convince you.”



She gave her a rueful smile. “You’re not going to convince me.”



“You don’t have to go back to work,” Sorrow insisted. “The lodge and tavern will be fine. Mom and Dad will be fine. We’ve always gotten by. It’s not up to you to shoulder everything.”



“It’s not just that. I don’t know that I ever really belonged here.”



“How can you say that? Sierra Falls is your home.”



“I was fooling myself to think that I could be…I don’t know…nature girl or something.” She gave an embarrassed shrug. When she felt Helen emerge from the kitchen, going behind the bar to get the coffee started, she pitched her voice lower. “Here’s the irony. That stupid ranch is on some sort of protected owl nesting ground. So, after all that, I actually could shut Eddie down.”



“But you’re not?”



“Of course I’m not. Why would I? The Jessups do good. They’re a fixture in Sierra Falls. Scott the forest ranger. Mark the doctor. Jack’s boy is off at boot camp. You don’t get much more upstanding than all that. And then there’s Eddie. He’s practically a hero, using his own money to do stuff for needy kids. How many lives has he touched? How many kids’ futures have changed because he’s got the spare cash to buy gear and food? You pointed it out yourself; the Jessups aren’t going to ruin us, so why should I put Jack and Eddie out of business? Especially now that I’ll be going back to my old job. I’ve got great insurance, an IRA. Hell, with what my old boss is paying me, I could start a whole new hotel.”



Sorrow gave her an evil grin. “You could do it to spite the Neanderthal.”



“I guess…” She gave a halfhearted smile. “I don’t know. I was wrong about Eddie. He’s a good guy. I think I’ll just back away slowly, you know?”



They were speaking in hushed tones, but she could tell by Helen’s pauses that the woman was catching dribs and drabs of the conversation. It hardly mattered, though. Not at this point. And besides, after all Helen had been through, she couldn’t fault her anything. It was amazing she’d even let her husband back in the house. She guessed that was what marriage was about—commitment. And being a team for life sometimes meant forgiveness.



She’d thought she was ready for something like that, but maybe she’d been right about herself all along. Business was her strength. Not men. Spreadsheets in bed, just like Eddie had said.



She felt that ache again in her throat and took a last sip of coffee to burn it away. She checked the clock. “I should go, and you should get dressed.” She gave her sister a sad smile. “You need to text me. And call. Anytime. If you take anyone else wedding dress shopping, I swear, I will kill you.”



Sorrow walked her out. “Let us know when you get there.”



“Next stop, San Francisco.” She selected some music on her phone—an old Dixie Chicks CD, with songs about strong women walking away—plugged it in, and hit the road.



But the next stop wasn’t San Francisco. She couldn’t leave Sierra Falls without paying one last visit.