Blue Hollow Falls by Donna Kauffman (6)

“I’m just sorry you came all this way,” Sunny told Addie, as they strolled along the downtown National Mall, past the Air and Space museum, heading toward the Botanic Garden conservatory. “We could have talked over the phone about whatever paperwork needs doing so you can continue moving forward with the renovation. I didn’t intend for you to stop the work or anything like that. I didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”

“It’s good to get out, stretch your legs,” Addie said by way of reply. She was using her cane, but moving along at such a clip that they all had to hustle to keep up with her. “Besides, Bailey has never seen the Capitol, or any of the monuments. It’s a field trip.”

Sawyer walked a few paces behind the two women, close enough to hear the conversation, but hanging back just enough so he didn’t have to participate in it. Bailey strolled along next to him. He glanced down at the young girl. “This is your first time here?”

She nodded, but otherwise said nothing. She had been pretty quiet since he’d met up with them in the parking lot of the production facility. Fortunately, when Addie had seen that Bo’s was open again, they’d stopped and had breakfast before heading out of town. He was surprised Seth hadn’t run into them there on his beignet and coffee run. So, Sawyer had been able to catch up with the two just as Addie was trying to talk her way into the production facility, after having already stopped by the conservatory only to find out that Sunny worked at a different location. She hadn’t seemed all that surprised to see him, which had only confirmed she was up to something.

Sunny didn’t have an office, so there hadn’t really been a convenient place to talk privately at the greenhouse complex. Addie wanted to see the Botanic Garden, so Sunny had taken a long lunch break, and they’d caravanned over from Anacostia to the city proper. They’d parked at L’Enfant Plaza, walked down to the Mall, and were now heading down Jefferson toward the conservatory, which sat in the shadow of the Capitol Building. It was a pretty fall day, clear skies, unseasonably warm temperatures, a light breeze, perfect for an excursion. Except for the part where Addie was the only one who’d actually planned on taking said excursion.

Sunny hadn’t seemed exactly excited about the proposition, either, but Sawyer couldn’t blame her, given they’d all dropped in completely unannounced. She’d handled it well enough, though, especially where Bailey was concerned. As they’d learned when they’d entered the place, the production facility was only open to the public one day a year, which happened in March, but Sunny had offered to pull a few strings to give them a look at the rare orchids she cared for. She’d taken time with Bailey and Addie both, showing them some of the specific work she was doing to help find new ways to cultivate the critically endangered members of the species.

He’d found it fascinating as well, and while his impression of Sunny was still that she liked others to think she was an all-business sort, her obvious love and passion for her work had shone through the no-nonsense exterior, adding a sincere warmth and earnestness he wouldn’t have previously ascribed to her. Of course, the little song and dance skit he’d inadvertently interrupted had already forever changed his opinion of her. For the positive. Made him wonder how else she lived up to those five names of hers.

Brogan had gotten that part right, as it turned out. Damn sexy, indeed.

Sunny had told them before they’d even left the production facility that she’d decided to hold on to her interest in the mill, but wouldn’t block Sawyer or Addie from doing whatever they wanted with the place. She’d offered to contact the estate attorney who had helped her with her mother’s living will to get something in writing to that effect, which would protect each of their interests. Addie had told her to do whatever she felt best.

Sawyer had hoped to be right back on the road after that little announcement, but then Addie had come up with her plan to see the Botanic Garden. Which was when Sawyer had known she wasn’t done yet.

“Any particular thing you’d like to see?” he asked Bailey as they walked past the Museum of the American Indian. He decided since they were here, they might as well take advantage of the visit. In for a dime, in for a dollar. He had great respect for the District of Columbia and all it represented. It was a powerful place to be, and to see. He’d visited the city countless times in his life, and it had never once failed to move him. The domed Capitol Building, stationed as if keeping watch at the head of the table, sat at one end of the National Mall, with the stone edifice of the Washington Monument soaring skyward at the opposite end of the open, parklike area, which was lined on either side by the Smithsonian museums. Then there was the Jefferson Memorial, holding sway over the Tidal Basin with the cherry trees draped around the water’s edge like a festive garland each spring, and the Lincoln Memorial, stately and reverent, at the end of the grand reflecting pond. All of it reminded him why he’d given service to his country. This was the foundation of the entire nation, the seat of freedom.

Since Bailey was being more or less dragged around with no say in the matter, he found himself wanting to make this trip meaningful to her in some way. “The Museum of Natural History has everything from dinosaurs to gemstones. Air and Space has lunar modules and—”

“I’m good,” Bailey said.

Sawyer glanced down at her, but she was looking straight ahead, glancing here and there, taking it all in. She seemed to be exactly as she’d stated. Good. If she was feeling upset or put out by the field trip, she certainly didn’t show it. Conversely, she didn’t appear to be all that excited about it, either. She was just . . . good. Going with the flow. He’d noticed she did that a lot, and wondered if that was how she’d learned to hold it together.

He recalled their brief conversation the day they’d first met; he knew there was a sharp, observant, inquisitive brain inside her young head. He wondered if the lesson she’d taken from her life thus far was to basically go along and not rock the boat. He wondered if she let herself want things. Any things. Or if that was just too damn scary, given her life could change at a moment’s notice, based on the whims of others. The way it had just two weeks ago. Did she have dreams? Did she want to be something specific when she grew up? Did she dream about being old enough to break free, to be out on her own?

Sawyer had talked to Addie at some length as she’d begun the process of becoming Bailey’s legal guardian, so he knew that Bailey wasn’t a problem kid. She’d never run away, she’d never been in any kind of legal trouble, or trouble in school. She was a good student, made good grades, never truant, though quiet and not exactly a joiner. In fact, her teachers and her various foster families had always had good things to say about her. The word shy had been used more than once, but Sawyer didn’t buy that. Bailey had no problem speaking up; she simply chose not to. Her caseworker had told Addie that Bailey’s file was one of the thinnest she’d ever seen. Mostly just listing her various residences, beginning and end dates of her time with this family or that. Her being shuffled around the system had always had something to do with the foster family itself, which was common enough, rather than any problem with Bailey.

Sawyer thought about his own childhood, prior to landing with Addie Pearl. He smiled then, thinking maybe Bailey was the smart one after all. He had not been particularly good at going along to get along. His case file would not have been described as thin. He knew what it was like to yearn, to want, to dream. To want something other than what he’d been handed in life. He’d felt all of those things when he’d been her age and had worn every bit of it on his sleeve. And on his tongue. Even after landing with Addie. Once an orphan—whether in fact or by abandonment—always an orphan. At least to some degree. Even when life got better, it was still part of the core truth of the person, and that affected how they looked at things. It couldn’t not affect them.

Their similar backgrounds should have made it easier for him to find a conversational toehold, but he felt at a complete loss. So he just respected her silence, watched as she looked around, thinking maybe she’d give a clue if something in particular caught her eye.

In the end, she solved the problem for him. “Have you been to the Wall?” she asked, as they waited at the corner to cross Maryland Avenue.

He knew which wall she meant. “I have,” he told her.

She looked up at him then. Her crystalline blue eyes were sober, yet inquisitive. “Do you know anybody on it?”

The Wall she was talking about was the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. A long, sloping granite wall with the names of all who had made the ultimate sacrifice during that war engraved on its long, segmented face. “I do,” he told her. “Buddies of mine have their father’s names engraved there.”

“Army buddies?” she wanted to know.

He nodded, then the crosswalk light turned white and they hoofed it across the busy thoroughfare. She startled him by taking his hand, and for reasons unknown to him, the gesture made his eyes burn. Just a little. She seemed so cool, so together, it was easy to forget she was just a little girl. He curled his big fingers around her far smaller ones, but a quick glance down showed him she wasn’t looking up at him. As soon as they got to the sidewalk on the other side, she let go. She didn’t seem embarrassed, or, well, anything really. It had been matter of fact, like everything else the young girl did. As if that’s just what you do when crossing a busy street. And maybe that’s all it had been. Probably. But Sawyer knew it would be a while before he forgot the feel of her small hand in his.

“Would you like to see the Wall?” he asked her, as they neared the old glass conservatory that he now knew, from seeing where Sunny worked, housed only a small part of the U.S. Botanic Garden’s collection.

“No,” she said, with a quick shake of her head.

“I’m good,” they both said at the same time. She glanced up, caught his sardonic wink, and busted out a short trill of giggles. The transformation was a pure delight, causing Addie and Sunny both to look back, big smiles creasing their faces now, too. Bailey was a cute young girl, but far too sober. Seeing her face light up, hearing her laughter, which was surprisingly girly, considering the girl herself was not, lifted his heart. He made a promise to himself to see about getting her to do that more often.

He caught Addie’s backward glance at the two of them as they continued on down the walk, noted the satisfied gleam in her eye before she turned her attention forward again. Ah. So that’s the plan, is it? Addie had introduced them to Sunny’s delightful co-worker, Stevie, as family, and apparently that’s what she aimed for them to be. And not just in name only.

Sawyer appreciated her intentions, especially where Bailey was concerned, but he also didn’t want any false hopes to be built, either by Addie or Bailey. He wasn’t going anywhere, and Bailey would learn she could count on him. But it wasn’t fair to rook Sunny into anything, or make her feel as if she should contribute something to her newly discovered clan unless she felt personally moved to do so. Coming into a surprise inheritance didn’t bind her to anything except having a legal share of that old mill.

Sawyer found himself watching her, the swing of her step, the forthright manner in which she strode down the walkway. She was not a tentative sort, and given what little he knew about her childhood, he imagined she’d never had that luxury. If he found himself curious to know more about her, well, that wasn’t entirely surprising now, was it?

They arrived at the conservatory then and Sunny greeted the staffer just inside the door by name. Sawyer was curious how she’d introduce them, but all she said was, “I’ve got some friends with me today who surprised me with a visit. Can we get them some VIP badges, please? I’m going to take them through the back.”

The young man nodded, smiled back, then handed out lanyards to Addie, Bailey, and himself, with badges dangling from the ends that had VIP PASS printed on the front.

Sunny smiled at them in a tour guide kind of way, and said, “If you’ll slip those on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

He respected her for handling this intrusion into her busy day with aplomb, and for giving Addie, at least, what she wanted. A family day outing. At least in spirit, if not in truth.

“Bailey,” she said, motioning to the young girl, “why don’t you come on ahead of them so you can see what I’m talking about.”

He happened to glance down then, which was the only reason he caught sight of the young girl start to lift her hand toward his, then press her palm flat to the side of her leg instead, as if willing it to stay there. Sawyer wasn’t sure where the instinct came from, but he simply took Bailey’s hand in his, as if he did it every day, and said, “We’re good.”

He was smiling at Sunny as he said it, but he caught the brief upward dart of Bailey’s gaze from the corner of his eye, the brief twitch at the corners of her mouth. She also didn’t let go of his hand. He gave her hand a little squeeze. She squeezed back.

And that was it. He was a goner.

He didn’t know why Bailey had chosen to trust him, but she had. And he knew, firsthand, how monumental that was. He vowed right then to do whatever he had to do so she’d never regret it.

“No worries, then,” Sunny said, catching sight of Bailey’s hand in his, which made her smile falter for a split instant, then grow wider. “We’re already getting ready to set up a few new events for the coming holidays. I can take you back to one of the rooms that is currently off public display, and show you a little of what we do here.”

Sawyer was trained to be hyperobservant, so he hadn’t missed that little momentary falter, and he couldn’t deny he was intrigued by it. It wasn’t dismay he’d seen in her eyes, but . . . yearning? Or something like it. Maybe she just missed her mama. Probably that was it. But . . . what if it wasn’t? What might Sunny Goodwin want? She’d made it clear she didn’t want them. Or so he’d thought. Now he wasn’t so sure. He recalled Seth mentioning much the same when he’d come back for his tools and found her still sitting in her car, staring at the mill.

“Can we take pictures?” Addie wanted to know. “I brought my new smart phone with me.” She pulled it out of the pants pockets of her faded green khakis and showed it to Bailey with a wink. “We can take a selfie.”

That got a wry little smile from Bailey, which she shared with Sawyer in a quick glance upward. He shared her dry smile and lifted a shoulder as if to say, What are you gonna do?

“As long as you don’t post them on social media, sure,” Sunny said.

“Not even Instagram?” Addie wanted to know. At Sawyer’s surprised look, she said, “Seth set it up for me.”

“Of course he did,” Sawyer said sardonically.

“What?” Addie wanted to know. “It’s a great way to connect with folks, show ’em what we’re doing. He said we could do an upstart campaign even, to help with funding the renovations.”

“Kickstart,” Sawyer said, chuckling now. “And you don’t need to go worrying about that. I told you I’ve got that covered. You work on getting the guild shored up and agreeing on the plans for how they want to split and share the space, and let me deal with the rest.” He looked at Sunny. “Sorry. No social media photos. I swear.” He looked at Addie on that last part.

Addie just held her hands up. “Don’t worry. I have some self-restraint.”

Sawyer chuckled again at that and Sunny smiled along with him. Their gazes caught and held for a moment, and in that split second, he decided, yeah, maybe he did want to get to know her better. She was an intriguing woman with an interesting occupation, interesting life history. She’d worked for what she wanted in life while simultaneously dedicating herself to family. She was clearly passionate about what she did, and enjoyed sharing her passion with others. He had a deep respect for all of that. She was also sharp and observant, like her little half sister, and pretty, too. Had he met her elsewhere under other circumstances, he’d have absolutely been interested.

“Shoot,” Sunny said, frowning briefly, and breaking him from thoughts he’d probably be better off not having. “I guess we should have stopped by one of the food trucks and picked up some lunch on the way in.”

“I’ll go,” Sawyer said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “My pass will get me back in, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Hot dogs okay with everyone?” Suddenly, he decided he needed fresh air. And a little time to reorganize his thoughts. Thoughts that had already been undergoing a major overhaul.

Addie and Bailey nodded. “No relish on mine,” Addie said.

Bailey, wrinkling her freckled nose, shook her head in agreement on that.

Sawyer smiled, then looked at Sunny, eyebrows raised. “You’re good with that?”

“Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”

“You’re good?” he asked Bailey.

She nodded and let go of his hand, then said, “Extra mustard. And a bottle of water, please.”

“You got it,” he said with a wink. The kid knew what she wanted. Sawyer would bet that extended to more than hot dog toppings. She’d been pretty decisive in befriending him.

“You know what, why don’t I go with you, help you carry,” Sunny said. She turned to Addie and Bailey. “You two can go ahead and wander the public exhibits. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have after lunch. Meet us back in here in about twenty to thirty minutes? The lines are long out there around this time.”

Sunny didn’t give anyone time to dissent, least of all Sawyer. She moved to the door, opened it, and held it open for him to go with her.

So much for regrouping. But he wouldn’t deny he was perversely happy for the chance to spend a little one-on-one time with her. He nodded at Addie, winked at Bailey, and off they went.

No sooner were they outside the conservatory door than she said, “I’m guessing this little outing wasn’t your idea.”

All business. No nonsense. He had to fight the urge to smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You came in two vehicles.”

He smiled. “That’s the only reason?”

She stopped at the sidewalk and turned to him. “Bailey clearly trusts you most. She would have ridden with you, but she came with Addie. Her backpack was in Addie’s car.”

“You’d make a great detective, Miss Goodwin.”

Sunny smiled, but continued. “So, I’m betting that means you made the drive up here after they left and caught up with them at some point.”

“That would be at the front desk of the production facility,” he said with a grin, lifting his hand. “Guilty as charged, ma’am.”

Her lips twitched in response. She wasn’t upset, simply trying to get the lay of the land. “So this was all Addie’s idea. I thought so. Why did you come after them? What did you think she was going to do?”

“I didn’t know,” he answered honestly, surprised by the questioning, but thinking it was smart for them to simply be up front with each other. “All I knew was she had something going on or she’d have told me her plans. Honestly, I don’t think she was surprised I followed her up. In fact, I’d say that’s exactly what she wanted.”

Enlightenment dawned in Sunny’s pretty whiskey brown eyes. “Ah. Getting all of us together again, then. One big happy family?”

He nodded. “If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, and all that.”

Sunny turned and headed down the sidewalk toward a row of food trucks lining the curb. He fell into step beside her, but said nothing.

“So, what is her big plan?” Sunny asked, as they neared the first in the long line of trucks. It was a pretzel vendor, so they kept on walking. “I mean, as far as I’m concerned, anyway? I told her I’m not going to get in the way of your restoration. I’m assuming you aren’t planning to ask me to invest in it?”

“No, I’m not.”

She paused again. “You were expecting me to sell my share, weren’t you?”

“I was hopeful. It would have simplified things. I was as surprised by all of this as you were.”

“Probably more, given the mill is your rightful inheritance. Or should have been. I don’t blame you for wanting the rest of it back.” She walked on again and he matched her pace. “I thought that’s what I was going to do,” she said, then glanced up at him. “Sell it to you, I mean. Or Addie.”

“But now?”

She shook her head, then lifted a slender shoulder. “I think I should hang on to it. For a bit, anyway.” She looked up at him, studied him for a moment, then apparently decided he could hear the rest of her truth. “I’m considering signing my share over to Bailey. She’s the only one of us who might really need it down the line.” She looked at him again. “That might be an assumption on my part, but since you’re bankrolling the renovation and not wanting help with that, I thought it was a safe bet.”

“But you’re not doing that now,” he said, not really making it a question. “Signing it over to her, I mean.”

She shook her head, but lifted her hand before he could speak. “It’s not a question of trusting Addie Pearl. I mean, I know what she did for you, and my first impression, my instinct, is she wouldn’t do anything to negatively impact Bailey. I just . . .” She trailed off, then looked away, apparently not as ready to reveal all as she’d thought.

So he did it for her. “You wanted to keep a hand in. For Bailey, I’m guessing. If you own a share, then you have some legal sway in keeping tabs on how things are going.”

She looked a little surprised by his insight. Now he lifted a shoulder. “It’s what I would have done in your place.”

They joined the end of the line at the hot dog truck. Despite the warmer than usual October day, the ever-present breeze that whipped down the Mall made it feel a bit chilly. She clasped her elbows and folded her arms close to her body, either as a defense against the wind or as a barrier to him, he wasn’t sure which. “And you’re okay with that?” she asked.

The breeze was whipping those loose tendrils of hair into a dance around her head, occasionally causing them to cling to her cheeks and lashes. He had to work far harder than he liked to admit to keep from reaching out and tucking them out of the way. Not because the errant strands bothered him, but because he wanted an excuse—any excuse—to touch her. “I’d have liked to have heard it from you sooner so we wouldn’t be making assumptions,” he said frankly, “but yes, I am.”

“I was still pondering,” she responded. “I hadn’t decided yet.”

“But you’re sure now?”

She nodded and tucked those strands behind her ears before wrapping her arms back around her middle. She seemed entirely unaware of the effect she was having on him, which he counted as a point in his favor. He slid his hands into his pockets anyway, because the fact that there were no tendrils of hair left to tease him hadn’t lessened his desire to touch her one whit.

“It was talking to Stevie about it today—my co-worker you met earlier—that really helped to cement the decision,” she said. “In fact, I’d just decided to leave things as is when you all came in.”

He shot her a grin. “Ah. Hence the little Disney dance routine? Just let it go?”

Her cheeks turned a bit pink, and she seemed surprised that he got the Frozen reference. Sawyer placed the blame for that bit of arcane knowledge squarely at Seth Brogan’s clodhopper-sized feet. The man had learned to control his damn llama’s penchant for being, shall we say, overly amorous by singing Disney tunes to keep the beast happy and in line.

“I especially liked the apron twirling part.”

To her credit, she held his gaze easily, pink cheeks and all, and her laugh was purely self-deprecating. “Stevie thinks I have a problem with needing to control every little thing, and she might have a point. But, in my defense, it’s a habit I picked up pretty early on. Hard to shake.”

“Shake it off,” he said, then sang a few bars of the famous Taylor Swift song. He might have done a little hip move, which made the folks in line smile and made her cheeks turn even pinker.

“Something like that, yes,” she said, then laughed outright when he added the “haters” line, and did another little boogie. “I can see why Bailey likes you,” she said. “You’re still embracing your inner ten-year-old.”

“There are times when we’d all be better for it,” he replied, and tried not to let her see she’d sparked his full attention with that laugh of hers. It was full-bodied and unrestrained, which seemed a bit opposite of the woman he’d seen so far. He liked it, and he liked her even more for it. The line moved up and they stepped forward with it. “I appreciate your concern,” he said, “for Bailey’s well-being, I mean,” he explained when she gave him a blank look. “Addie told me about your mom passing recently. I’m sorry for that. I haven’t been through that particular loss, not in the way you have, at any rate, but I’ve lost other people I’ve loved. It’s never easy.”

“No,” she said, more soberly, “it’s not.” Then she offered him a brief smile. “Thank you. That was kind of you to say.” She looked at him more directly. “Were you close to Doyle? I mean, Addie made it sound like he wasn’t around, but”—she waved a hand, dismissing her question, and looking apologetic—“I should have said this sooner, that I’m sorry for your loss. I am sorry. I do know what it’s like and I should have been more sensitive to that when we first met at the mill.”

“Thank you,” he said. “You were handed a lot that day, so it’s understandable. I didn’t expect condolences. Which, I guess, answers your question. No, we weren’t close. In fact, I only saw him sporadically after moving to Blue Hollow Falls and not at all as an adult.” Her eyes went wide in surprise, but he pushed on with the rest of what he’d begun to say. “And I only brought up your losing your mom because I can’t imagine it was a welcome surprise to find out you had this other family you didn’t know about. A possible new burden to deal with. A family who didn’t even know they were one until a couple weeks ago.”

“In some ways, that makes it easier,” she said, surprising him with her candor. “It’s not like any of us are stepping into some kind of established tableau where we have to figure out how to fit in. We were all in our own lane already. And, yes, I know you and Addie are family to each other, but—”

“I know what you’re saying. Yes, Addie is the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. She is my family. And I’ll admit I wasn’t sure what to think about her abrupt decision to bring Bailey home. She did the same for me, so her motives aren’t in question,” he hurried to add. “But despite appearances to the contrary, Addie isn’t going to be around forever. So it was a lot to consider for me, too. She and I have talked about it and she apologized for not really thinking that part through before doing what she thought was right.”

“Are you okay with it? I mean, it’s done now and Addie is hardly going to dump Bailey back into the foster care system, but—”

“I know Bailey and I will form some kind of relationship. And I know there will be responsibility there, on my part. At least I feel there is.”

“I’d say you two are already forging a bond. It’s clear she’s chosen to put her trust in you, at least to some degree.”

He nodded. “I know. And I’ve been in her shoes, so I know what that means. It’s not that I don’t want—I mean, I’m open to whatever kind of relationship we form. She’s an easy kid to like and my heart naturally goes out to her. We may not be blood related, but Addie has a way of making folks feel like family, even when they otherwise aren’t.” He grinned. “If Addie has her way, she’ll be my little sister in every way that means anything before I even know it’s happened.” He paused, and he knew then something in his heart had already shifted where Bailey was concerned. “And if I’m being honest, she’d already made a good start.” It was only when he looked back at Sunny as the line inched forward again that he noticed she’d gone still.

“Wait,” she said, then moved forward to catch up with him. “What do you mean? About not being blood related? We’re exactly that.”

He chuckled, shook his head. “I wondered about that. I guess the magistrate didn’t make it clear, and Addie didn’t explain.”

She was looking quite perturbed now. “Explain what?”

It was their turn at the food truck, and he could all but feel Sunny vibrating next to him, waiting for his response. He placed his order for himself, Bailey, and Addie, then turned to her. “My treat. What would you like?”

“What? Oh, uh . . .” She turned to stare at the menu.

Now it was his turn to feel a little . . . vibration. She’d been staring at him like . . . well, like she wanted to take a bite out of him. Maybe not in a good way, but . . . to be honest, it sure hadn’t felt entirely like the bad way, either. In fact, he really wasn’t sure what the electricity that seemed to hum between them was all about. He’d chalked it up to the simmering tensions about their shared inheritance. Now he wasn’t so sure.

She gave her order and they shuffled to the side a bit while they waited, allowing the next person in line to order.

“What didn’t Addie explain?” she said, enunciating very clearly.

Oddly, her sudden intensity, the blazing directness in those honey gold eyes of hers, only served to ramp up that simmering . . . something. And definitely not in a bad way. Ratchet it down a few notches there, big guy.

“We’re not related by blood, Sunny. At least, I’m not. To any of you. Doyle adopted me.” He lifted his hands. “I don’t know why me and not the kids he actually fathered, but—”

“You said Addie took you in,” Sunny said. “I’d assumed that was because Doyle didn’t stick around, but now I remember you telling Bailey that Addie brought you to Blue Hollow Falls.” She lifted her hands, then let them drop. “I’m confused.”

“She did. And yes, Doyle Hartwell wasn’t exactly the type to stick around, which he didn’t in my case, either. I think that’s why Addie harassed him about making it legal. She was trying to protect me. I’m sure if she’d known about either of you two, she’d have done the same.”

“So, how did you end up there? How did she find you?”

“My mother was one of Doyle’s . . .”

Sunny waved her hand as he paused. “Got it. Go on.”

“She was living with someone else when I was born. That didn’t work out too well. It turned out not to be all that unusual a situation where she was concerned. We moved around. A lot. She wasn’t particularly maternal, so there wasn’t much supervision for me.”

“You were a little kid,” Sunny said. “I mean, if you came to Addie at age nine, then—”

“I’m not saying I recall the early, early years as a baby or toddler, of course, but from the age of five until when Addie came and got me . . . yeah, I do remember a good part of those years. I can’t assume it was any different really, before that.”

“So, how did Addie get involved?”

“My mother finally hooked up with a guy who could support her in the lifestyle she wanted, but he didn’t want to be saddled with a kid. So she contacted Doyle, told him I was his kid and he could either come and get me or she’d hire an attorney and sue for child support and joint custody. I don’t know how Doyle would have responded to that, but Addie somehow found out and she came and got me.”

“Weren’t they divorced by then?”

Sawyer nodded. “They’d been divorced a good while at that point, but Addie and Doyle, despite everything, were connected for life in many ways. She was the only one who really knew him, seeing as they’d grown up together. She was younger than him, but—”

“No, I get it. First love and all that.”

Sawyer nodded. “Of course, he was gone far more than he was ever around, but he’d communicate with her from time to time, usually when he was experiencing a low point and needed to confide in someone. He came home to the Hollow on occasion, but less and less the older he got. He hadn’t come at all from the time I entered middle school until I enlisted, but I know he stopped by a few times while I was gone.”

“But you’re sure you weren’t his?”

Sawyer nodded. “We’re sure. Apparently, Doyle told Addie about my mom’s threat, so she came to check things out and, apparently once she saw the situation, she didn’t ask too many questions. She just got me out of there. Doyle tried to throw money at the problem, but Addie pressed him to do the right thing, which I’m sure he did mostly to quiet her on the matter.” He looked at Sunny. “I don’t think Addie knew about you, or she’d probably have made some contact on his behalf. And that was way before Bailey.”

Sunny waved that off. “My mother had no contact with him after I was born, or I’m sure I’d have either heard about it or read about it in her journals later. She considered him this kind of avenging angel who intervened in her life, then left it just as abruptly, after bestowing on her the gift of me. And, mercifully, our house. She really didn’t want or expect anything more. She didn’t love him and didn’t want or expect him to love her. In her mind, the two of us were like this divine tribe of two.” She fluttered a hand, as if at a loss to explain it. “My mother wasn’t . . .” She paused, then smiled, a little sadly, but also affectionately. “She wasn’t like anyone you’d ever meet. She didn’t see the world in any kind of way that you’d call normal. When I asked who my father was, I got the divine angel story, and that was it. She never spoke of him, and really didn’t like me asking about it. I thought I’d find out who he was in her journals, and Doyle was in there, but he was so much older than she was, my adolescent brain thought he couldn’t possibly be my father, and . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I stopped caring about it when I got older, because, frankly, it didn’t matter.”

“I guess I felt the same about him. I never thought of him as a father. Addie was my family. And Lord knows, I made it hard enough on her. I was pretty much angry at the whole world back then. Thank God she’s so damn stubborn and stuck by me, or who the hell knows where I’d have ended up.”

Sunny smiled. “You’re lucky, then. And I guess Bailey is now, too. I’m glad to hear that. So, how did you come to know your mother lied about Doyle’s paternity? Did he demand a paternity test or something?”

Sawyer shook his head. “No. He pretty much let Addie have her way about most things as long as he didn’t have to do anything personally other than write a check or sign a document. He was too busy living life, seeing the world, whatever it was he was off doing. Living off his family’s money, what there was left of it.”

“So, how did you find out?”

“Addie had been suspicious all along, so she hired a guy to investigate my mother’s past and eventually figured out what state and county I was born in, dug up my birth certificate. Doyle’s name wasn’t on it. Some other guy’s name was listed. At that point, Doyle had already legally adopted me, but Addie had a paternity test run anyway, because she couldn’t know for sure that my mother hadn’t lied about the paternity on the birth certificate, too.” He shrugged. “She actually tracked my father down, but he’d died years before in a motorcycle accident. There was nothing to suggest he ever knew about me. I guess we’ll never know that part for sure, but I’m definitely not Doyle’s. Our best guess is that my mother apparently tagged Doyle when her new boyfriend put the pressure on because she knew he had money, knew how he was about fixing problems. I guess it hadn’t occurred to her to do that sooner, or she probably would have.”

“That’s . . . God, Sawyer, that’s awful. On all sides.” She touched his arm, then immediately dropped her hand. “I’m so sorry. So, did Doyle know? About you not being his?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if Addie told him. He was my legal parent, but Addie was my actual family, in all ways that mattered. He wasn’t around, so I don’t guess it mattered all that much to him one way or the other.”

“Didn’t Doyle support you? Or her? Financially, I mean? They weren’t married anymore, but she did take you in, so—”

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what arrangement they had between them. She doesn’t talk about Doyle, especially their married life. What she told you in the mill that day was the most I ever heard her say on the subject. And to be fair, though I know she stuck by me and we eventually became family to each other, I wasn’t like Bailey. I was what they called a problem child. I counted myself lucky that I wasn’t on the street.”

Sunny gaped. “You can’t honestly think that made it okay for your own mother to abandon you? And your father—at least he thought he was your father—to do more of the same? I mean, he knew Addie was taking care of you, but still. How much of a problem could you have been at—you said you were, what, nine when you came to Blue Hollow Falls?”

He just smiled. “I think the term holy terror would have been understating the case. Even at nine.”

Her lips twitched a little. “That bad, huh?” She shook her head, then grew serious. “Well, with what you said about your mother’s lack of parenting skills, and the uneven life you’d led to that point, you could be forgiven a lot. I mean—”

“Maybe. But you didn’t go that route. To hear Addie tell it, you took care of your mama since you were little. You didn’t become rebellious; you knuckled down and got it done.”

Sunny looked down, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

“And Bailey, whose mother didn’t even bother to find her a home first, just dumped her straight into the system and took off. And despite that, Bailey’s been the model foster kid,” he went on. “Not me.”

Sunny looked up. She ignored the parts about her and Bailey, and said, “So, what turned it around for you? I mean, you’re a war hero. To hear Addie tell it,” she added with a short smile, when it was his turn to be uncomfortable.

“Addie likes her stories.”

“So, the story about how you got the nickname Sergeant Angel isn’t true?”

“When did you hear that? You took off right after we all met up for the first time. Addie said she hasn’t seen hide nor hair of you since.”

Sunny’s cheeks turned a very becoming shade of pink, which he found himself enjoying more than he should. He bent down to catch her eye when she dipped her chin, and saw the guilt all over her face. His own face split into a wide grin. “Not so blasé about your new kin after all, huh? You Googled us, didn’t you?”

She lifted her gaze then, tried for defiant, or at least dismissive. Failed miserably on both counts. To her credit, she laughed with him. “Guilty as charged, sir,” she said, echoing his earlier words, even raising her right hand. “And I never said I wasn’t curious. I just . . . wasn’t sure what I was. I don’t think it was all that unusual to do my own bit of research, see what more there might be to the story.”

“What did you find out?”

“Not much. Nothing about Bailey. I found Addie’s Web site.” Her expression shifted then to one of sincere awe. “You’re right, she is an amazing weaver. A real artisan. I was truly stunned by the beauty of her work. I had no idea.”

“She talks a great game about everything and everyone else, but it’s funny, she’s not one to boast about her own talent.”

“I looked up the guild she mentioned, too. Pretty cool, actually. You have some seriously talented folks there in the Hollow.” She looked at him directly. “I think it’s great, what you’re doing with the old mill. On a bunch of different levels. It respects the history of the town, and helps launch Blue Hollow Falls in a new direction, all at the same time.”

“Hold up, rewind,” he said, not responding to her compliments. “Back to that research part. What exactly did you dig up about me?”

She merely gave him a rueful smile. “I can see why you were the youngest master sergeant ever, or something like that I think I read. You like ordering people around.”

“I like keeping order. Call it childhood PTSD. Once I figured out that being on top of and ahead of things was far better than being behind and under things, I’ve worked hard to keep things on track and moving as smoothly as possible.”

“Hence today’s road trip.”

“Hence the road trip,” he agreed.

They were called over to the food truck for their order, and he realized they’d moved several yards away as the intensity of their conversation had increased. Sunny looked relieved to have an excuse to keep him from continuing to question her further, but the more he talked with her, got to know her, the more he wanted to know. In addition to being smart, sharp, and unafraid to say what was on her mind, she was also a little shy about some things, and far easier to make blush than he’d have guessed. There were some deeper vulnerabilities in there, too, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to poke and prod a bit, find out what other layers there were underneath that all-business, no-nonsense exterior.

He was interested and not a little turned on. And maybe it was because he did, in fact, like to run things, or maybe it was because she brought back a bit of that rebelliousness inside him that he’d been unable to control in his youth, but the Pandora’s box question they’d both left alone was too tempting. He heard himself give voice to it before he could think better. “So, you thought I was your blood brother.”

She’d taken a few steps toward the food truck, but paused and looked back at him, her expression guarded now. “An honest mistake, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “I guess I thought you’d be relieved to hear we weren’t actually related.”

Now she definitely stiffened. He did, too, but not in the same way.

“Is it wrong for me to be relieved that I might have a little less responsibility to this supposed family dynamic I’ve been thrust into?”

He stepped closer, and saw the ways her pupils expanded. Yeah, when she’d looked like she wanted to take a bite out of him back there, kind of the same way she was looking at him right now, it definitely wasn’t in a bad way. He’d stake his life on it. And he might be about to do just that. “Would it make you uncomfortable if I said I noticed you looked relieved in a way that had nothing to do with being responsible for anything? In fact, maybe the relief was specifically about the fact that you’ve been wanting to be a little . . . irresponsible?”

To her credit and his absolute pleasure, she locked her shoulders in a hard square and her expression went granite smooth. “Trust me when I say that I am never irresponsible. I wish I had that luxury. As you said, I wasn’t as unaffected by finding out I had a family as I made it seem. But—”

She broke off abruptly when he walked up to her, stopping just shy of being in her personal space, but close enough that she had to tip her chin up to maintain steady eye contact. Which she did. Defiantly so. Oh, the lady doth protest far too much. And on confirming that truth, any chance he had to rein himself back in vanished on the spot. The smile slid slowly across his face, deepening to a grin when he noticed her throat work. “If I told you I’m relieved, too, and it has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with being unaffected . . . in fact, one might say, for the exact opposite reason . . .” He shifted to keep their gazes locked when she would have looked away. “Would that make it easier to admit?”

She lifted her chin higher, holding his gaze of her own will now. “Easier to admit what?” she asked boldly.

He reached up, caught another stray hair being buffeted around by the breeze, and wrapped it around the end of one finger before carefully tucking it behind her ear. His fingertips barely brushed the side of her neck as he let it go, but even that hint of a caress was like striking match to tinder, and the fire leapt straight into his belly. He knew the exact moment she realized that, as she was staring as intently into his eyes as he was into hers. Her pupils sprang wider still, absorbing almost all those golden iris rings. The pulse in her temple flickered, and her nostrils might have flared slightly—her reaction to him was that palpable. He was quite certain she was seeing every bit of the very same in him. Had he done what he wanted to do and tugged her up against his chest, she’d have had a whole lot more proof of the effect knowing they could do anything they damn well pleased with each other was having on him.

“Easier to admit that we wouldn’t be breaking any laws of nature if we went with our instincts.”

She stepped back then, turned away, and walked stiffly over to the food truck, where she scooped up the cardboard box holding their order.

But rather than feel even an ounce of regret, he found himself grinning as he followed her back to the conservatory. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so damn good. He watched her stiff spine and the sway of her narrow hips with an entirely different set of thoughts running through his head than the ones that had been brewing there when he’d left the Hollow that morning. At least as they pertained to one Miss Sunshine Meadow Aquarius Morrison Goodwin.

Maybe the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Maybe a person never really stopped being who they truly were, down deep inside. Maybe the best a man could hope for was to find a way to control the more troublesome parts. Or maybe it was simply the environment dragging him back. Part of him, anyway.

Because there he was, not back in Blue Hollow Falls for more than a minute, and already he was back to doing what he always did.

And where Sunny Goodwin was concerned, damned if he didn’t mind that at all, not one little bit.