by Tara Randel
“So,” he said as he stopped beside her. “Ready to order dinner?”
Fifteen minutes ago she would have said yes. Now she couldn’t eat if she tried.
“Actually, I’m going to head home.”
He looked at her closely. “Are you okay?”
“I wish people would stop asking me that.”
He held up his hands. “Sorry.”
She blew out a breath. “No. I’m sorry. Listen, I’m not good company tonight.”
He paused, sized her up, then said, “Rain check on the meal?”
“Sure.”
Waving at her friends, she quickly ducked out the door and jogged back to her apartment in the evening shadows. Maybe being part of the world wasn’t as good an idea as she’d hoped. The one thing she knew for sure? Keeping secrets wasn’t for the faint-hearted.
* * *
ON MONDAY MORNING, Logan still couldn’t believe he’d kissed Serena. Where was his professionalism? His quest to dig deep and uncover answers? It had all blown away when she’d been delighted by the fireflies. Fireflies. He rolled his neck to relieve the tension. What was wrong with him?
“Planning on spending the day alone?” Jamey asked as he leaned in to wipe the neighboring table.
“If it’s not a problem.”
“Not for me, as long as you buy lunch.” He tossed the towel over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a perfectly good office in Atlanta?”
Logan scrolled through a search-engine list on the laptop screen. “Right now it’s better if I stay up here. The commute’s not cutting it.”
“So what are you up to? You and Deke have been thick as thieves lately.”
“Can’t say.”
He sent Logan an amused grin. “Or maybe it’s because of a pretty store owner?”
Swallowing back a sigh because, yeah, he didn’t want to talk about it, Logan muttered, “Really can’t say.”
“Or don’t want to?”
Logan sent his friend a scowl. “Are you gonna keep talking or can I get back to work here?”
Jamey chuckled. “You sound like Serena’s friend. That woman knows how to put a man in his place.”
“Then clearly I’m not as good at dealing with you as she is.”
Jamey held up his hand. “I’ve got things to do in the kitchen.”
Left in much-needed silence, Logan grinned. Seemed Carrie had made an impression on Jamey.
Just like Serena with you?
He shook off the thought. He had work to do, and since the pub didn’t open until eleven for lunch, he returned to his task. He appreciated Jamey letting him hang out here during the week, but the interruptions weren’t helping his peace of mind. Especially when he couldn’t get the image of Serena’s closed-off expression out of his mind. What had caused the light in her eyes to dim the other night? They were having a good time until Deke showed up. Could she be on to them?
The thought didn’t sit well. So here he was at square one, with little to start off the week with. Finding out who the Stanhopes were was getting tricky, kiss notwithstanding. He needed to get this case under control—which meant not being attracted to his subject—so he planned on stepping up his investigation. He owed Deke that much.
He logged on to a database to search the phone number he’d found at Serena’s apartment. It had the same exchange as the area where Deke’s mother lived. No one answered when he’d called. The blanks in both of their histories were proving to be challenging, but Logan was convinced that James had a direct connection to Serena. Now Logan needed to find the proof they were related, but hadn’t dug up a birth certificate for Serena in Georgia. Could she have been born in a different state? Have a different legal last name? That had to be the key.
He was trying another background search, his fingers flying over the computer keyboard, when the heavy door to Smitty’s opened, ushering in bright sunlight. Since it was still early, Logan looked up to see who was hitting the pub. He smothered a groan as his father strode over.
“Dad.”
His father wrapped his fingers over the top of the chair across from him. “What have you done, Logan?”
He cocked his head as he rattled off the list of his personal achievements. “Let’s see. I graduated high school with honors. Joined the military. Started my own business.” He met his father’s angry gaze. “Need my résumé?”
“No. I mean what have you done to Reid?”
“I haven’t done anything to Reid. When I left this morning he was getting ready to sand down the original wood floors in the house he’s living in.”
“Yes. I just came from there.” Typical impatience laced his father’s voice. “He informed me he’s thinking about leaving Masterson Enterprises. Did you have anything to do with that?”
Logan sat back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Like I would ever tell Reid what to do. He’s a grown man. He makes his own decisions.”
“But you’re staying with him?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation, but yes. I have business here in Golden.”
“So you’re influencing him to get back at me?”
“Are you kidding?” Why did he expect anything different from this man? “It’s not all about you, Dad. I’m supporting my brother. I would think you’d find that an admirable quality.”
His father pulled out the chair and sank into it. Loosened his tie. “Of course I do.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Reid’s leaving is going to create a hardship for the company.”
“You should have thought about that before you ticked him off.”
“This move will affect the business’s finances. Even your grandmother’s portfolio.”
“Grandmother will be fine. She’s made smart investment decisions.”
A defeated expression crossed his father’s normally strong features. “I don’t know how many times I can apologize, Logan.”
“I guess until I believe you.”
In arguments before, Arthur Masterson always held the upper ground. Assumed he would come out the victor. Never once had he tried to see the past from Logan’s point of view. Now he looked old and tired. When had that happened?
While you were gone, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his grandmother’s said.
Logan moved around in his chair, an unfamiliar twinge of guilt making him uncomfortable—the first such feeling since finding the information that had totally changed his life.
Jamey approached, an eyebrow arched as he caught Logan’s gaze. Logan shrugged in response.
“Can I get you anything, sir?”
“No. I’m headed back to the office.”
His father rose, clapped Jamey on the shoulder and stared at his son. “I wish you’d see that I’m trying to make things right,” he said, then turned on his heel and left.
Jamey blew out a low whistle. “Think that’s the first time your dad has ever stepped foot in this place.”
“If I hang around, I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
Jamey sized him up with curious eyes, then asked, “Need a refill?”
Logan glanced at his empty coffee mug. “No. Suddenly I need some fresh air.”
Logan packed up his computer and folders, said goodbye to Jamey and pushed open the heavy door to step into the bright sunshine. He took his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them on, then stashed his belongings in his SUV. He needed to block out his father’s accusations and figure out why Deke’s case was so difficult. If he was honest with himself, the memory of his kiss with Serena was tripping him up. Maybe he should resign? Refer Deke to another PI? Because clearly he wasn’t going to stop dwelling on Serena Stanhope anytime soon.
He set off to the bakery, thinking an apple fritter would improve his mood, when his eyes lit on Blue Ridge Cottage. Serena stood out front, dressed in
a blue-and-white-patterned dress, adjusting the sandwich board on the sidewalk. He’d surveilled her enough. Maybe some pointed questions would loosen her tongue.
He crossed Main Street and strode toward her as if he was on autopilot. The sun shone off her gleaming black hair. Her eyes went wide when she caught a glimpse of him. She stood still, waiting for the unexpected. He had to give her props for that.
“Serena.”
“Logan.”
A heavy silence followed.
“Do you have a few minutes?” he asked.
“For?” Her dark eyebrows rose.
He cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“About?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it when an older couple walked by, waving to Serena, who returned the gesture with a bright smile that didn’t stick when she focused her attention back on him. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Can we go inside?”
She glanced through the glass door. “It’s not any more private in there.”
“Humor me.”
She shrugged and opened the door, holding it for him as she entered the store before him. Carrie and Heidi abruptly stopped talking, surprise written on both their faces. The two shot Serena a “what’s up?” look before disappearing to the back room.
When Serena faced him, his gaze zeroed in on a print of a mountain scene on the wall behind her and he knew exactly how to remedy this rather clumsy encounter.
“Look, I know it’s last-minute, but I’m going to drive up to Pine Tree Overlook. I was wondering if you would join me.”
“Logan, I’m working.”
He jerked his head toward the other room. “Looks like you have help.”
She ran her palms over her dress. “Yes, but I can’t leave on the spur of the moment.”
“Sure you can,” Carrie said as she walked toward them, not showing one ounce of embarrassment at her obvious eavesdropping. “You haven’t had a day off in ages. Go. Heidi and I can hold down the fort.”
“Yes. Go,” Heidi shouted from the back.
“Well, I...”
“Grab your sketchbook. Make going off with Logan a working break.”
Indecision clear on her face, Serena didn’t move until Carrie rounded the sales counter with her purse. Heidi ran up front with the sketch pad, shoved it into Serena’s hands, then returned to whatever she was not doing.
Serena gave up, the merriment in her eyes making his breath catch. “Looks like I’ve been overruled.”
A satisfied grin curved Carrie’s lips as she shooed them out. “Keep her for as long as you like, Logan. I’ll be here all day.”
Shooting her friend an “I’ll get you later” look, Serena headed for the door, shoulders straight, head held high, and Logan’s day felt increasingly brighter.
At his SUV, he opened the door for her, made sure she was safely inside and then took his place behind the wheel. Moments later they were driving along the scenic incline of the mountain leading to one of the more popular tourist spots in the area. After parking in the public lot, they strolled to the path leading to higher elevations.
Serena looked down at her flat shoes. “I’m not exactly dressed for hiking.”
He thought she looked beautiful, but held his tongue. He was here to interrogate, not flirt.
“Right. But there are benches all the way up. Just say so and we’ll stop at one when you’d like to.”
As they stepped beneath the trees, branches spread out in a wide canopy, the temperature dipped. A breeze rustled the leaves, a few drifting from overhead. The packed-dirt path was uneven under his feet, so he kept close to Serena to make sure she didn’t tumble. That was his excuse, anyway, but she didn’t seem to mind. A hint of lavender fluttered his way, mixing with the earthy scents around them.
They walked for a while before he found an empty bench. Birds chirped overhead. A calmness settled over him.
From this vantage point, the valley below was spread out before them, dotted with tiny houses and barns. The thick forest edged along the lowlands and the sun shone on the crystalline blue water of Golden Lake.
“What a lovely view.” Serena took a seat, taking the pencils from her purse. “I usually go to out-of-the-way places, but I’ve certainly been remiss by not capturing this scene.”
“Golden does have its moments.”
She tilted her head as if deciding what to draw first, then settled on the lake.
As she doodled on the page, Logan spread his arms across the back of the bench. “I haven’t been boating on the lake in years.”
“How many?”
“About thirteen.”
“Because you left?”
“Right after high school.”
Muffled voices approached from the path.
“It must have been wonderful growing up around here.” She tucked the pencil behind her ear and pulled out another. “So much to do and see.”
“Looks like a treasure trove for you.”
She smiled. “Sales are up. Every time I find a special place like this, it’s pure gold.” She chuckled. “Gold. Get it? Because we live in Golden?”
He laughed with her. “Like no one has ever made that joke before.”
“What can I say? I’m always behind on the curve.” She switched pencils again. “Your family seems entrenched here.”
He shrugged, brushing her bare arm with the sleeve of his shirt. He recalled her soft skin and shook off the memory. Questions, he reminded himself. He’d come here to ask questions.
“You mentioned your mother the other night. Do you miss her?”
Her hand stilled on the paper. “Every day.”
“I don’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay. I was young at the time.” She started shading the blue water again. “Now I keep the happy memories alive in my heart, so I don’t mind talking about her.”
“You were close?”
“Yes.” A smile curved her lips. “I remember my mother presiding over grand tea parties with my stuffed animals. Or when my dad would take us out for ice cream. Mom would argue against dessert before dinner, but we’d end up in the car, off on another adventure.”
“So you went on lots of adventures?”
“Until she got sick.”
“So that bond...it never went away?”
She lowered the pencil and turned to him. “What’s up, Logan?”
He’d been meaning to unearth information about her mother, but instead he revealed, “Bonnie isn’t my birth mother.”
Serena went still, then laid the sketch pad and pencils on the bench beside her. “I didn’t know.”
“I’m not sure anyone besides my family knows the truth.” His heart felt heavy, like a rock in his chest. Why had he started this conversation? He should stop while he was ahead, but the compassion on her face kept him going. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. Bonnie raised me as her own.”
Serena twisted around to face him. “Wow. That must have been hard.”
“Maybe. Only I didn’t find out until I turned eighteen.”
“Your folks kept it a secret?”
He nodded, his throat thick. “I uncovered the truth when I went looking for my birth certificate. My dad handled anything that needed family records, but I was interested in joining the military and had started gathering information to sign up. I knew Dad would never go for it, so I went behind his back. I felt bad about that, until I discovered a different name than Bonnie Masterson listed as my mother.”
He remembered the confusion at seeing Linda K. Royal on the line for birth mother. The signature had blurred before his eyes. Thinking it was a mistake, he’d reread the document. When he realized what the name meant, shock chilled his veins.
Serena’s hand covered his arm,
the light pressure reassuring. “What did you do?”
“Confronted my parents. First they were stunned I actually held the certificate in my hand. Then guilt flashed over Bonnie’s face while Dad’s cheeks turned red. Seems my dad had an affair with a woman in Atlanta and I was the result.”
Serena’s voice was gentle. “Oh, Logan.”
“Bad enough I had to hear about it eighteen years after the fact, but my dad was not very apologetic.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was more concerned about what people would think, instead of reassuring his son. Instead of telling me he was sorry, he railed at me, like I’d done something wrong.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Like I was the guilty party for finding the birth certificate and calling him on it.”
“I’m guessing that’s when you left?”
“After a huge fight.” He tried to make sense of it again, like he had that fateful night. And as always, he came up empty. “I’d looked up to my dad until then, but after he basically told me to get over it and move on, I was so furious I couldn’t stay in his house a minute longer.”
“Why on earth would he say that to you?”
“Because he was covering his tracks. They’d lied to me my entire life. He wanted to brush it under the rug, but I couldn’t get over it.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
“What?”
Hesitating again, she finally said, “From what I’ve observed, you still haven’t.”
“It’s not like I would have rebelled my entire life if I’d known Bonnie wasn’t my birth mother. My mom died in a car wreck. It was a freak accident, I found out later. But the secrecy is what really made me angry.”
“Maybe he was trying to protect you?”
“Not me. Himself.” Logan fisted his hands. “He and Bonnie were separated when she found out about my mother. Then I came along after my folks had reconciled. I have no idea how my mom fit in the picture, but when she died, my father took me in and Bonnie raised me. A few years later Reid was born.”
“But I don’t understand how the town wouldn’t have known Bonnie isn’t your mother. They must have seen she wasn’t pregnant.”
“She was gone for over a year, living south of Atlanta with her parents while they tried to work things out. Dad would go down there to see her. Since she hadn’t been around for so long, folks assumed I’d been born while she was away, and my folks stuck to the story.” He stood, unable to keep still as the weight of the past pressed down on him. “I don’t blame Bonnie. She was as much a victim of my father’s actions as me. But Dad? I can’t forgive him. The way he brushed off my birth mother, as if she were of no consequence? It wasn’t right.”
