by Beverly Long
“Parenting is hard,” he said.
“Very.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
“I want to talk to him. I need to better understand what drove him up that mountain and help him understand that there are better ways to deal with bullies, whether they’re online or in person. He was lucky. Maybe he wouldn’t be a second time.” That thought was too horrible to contemplate. “And I’ll let him catch up on some sleep. I may try to do the same because I didn’t get much last night.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get word to you.”
“I understand. I’m not blaming you.”
The air in her kitchen seemed heavy, and she heard the pipes echo as the water poured through them in the bathroom.
“He was scared,” Blaine said, his voice low. “He broke a window to get inside, which was smart, but his matches got wet, so he couldn’t light a fire. He was pretty cold when I got there.”
Her heart broke for her sweet boy. He’d suffered. But if he’d also learned, she reasoned, then there was something good to come from this. The mountains were beautiful, majestic even. But now he’d experienced the truth. They were also dangerous and could test even the most capable, the most prepared.
Thank goodness Blaine was exactly that. She turned around. He’d been very brave. Maybe she could be a little brave, too. “If you hadn’t been here, I... I don’t know how all this would have played out.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t have been on that mountain.”
She shook her head. “If not that, then it would have been something else. I’ve been so confident that I was doing a good job raising Josh, that I was really everything he needed. But he needs his father, too. And I’m grateful you were here.”
She heard the water shut off in the bathroom. Blaine looked in that direction for a brief moment, then, turning back toward her, stared into her eyes. “He doesn’t want us to be angry with one another, to fight,” he whispered. “He doesn’t want to have to choose.”
She’d been saying those same words, but had her actions and reactions been saying something else? Kids were perceptive. “He shouldn’t have to.”
“Agreed,” he said. He leaned forward. “I’m willing to try, Tilda. For Josh.”
She heard the bathroom door open. It would mean letting Josh embrace being a Colton, everything she’d tried so hard to avoid for so many years. It would mean that she would have to share Josh.
It would mean being with Blaine, knowing that he would never really forgive her, but putting on a brave front every day. Exhausting.
Josh would be in the kitchen any moment, hungry for his pancakes.
Blaine was willing to try. Could she do less and live with herself?
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” she said. “Anything for my son.”
* * *
Blaine sat at Tilda’s kitchen table, eating pancakes and bacon. No one was talking much. He and Josh were hungry, and Tilda seemed content to just sit and watch her son eat.
He hadn’t expected her to cook him breakfast, but she’d sat a plate in front of him. It was the second meal that they’d shared together as a family, the first being at his mom’s house. This felt significantly different, significantly more relaxed. Almost...normal.
Not that he really had a clue what normal family life was. After all, he’d been raised by Russ and Mara Colton.
He’d been...restless. That was perhaps the best word to describe it. Restless to get away from Colorado, from a place where his destiny seemed predetermined. For those few weeks when he’d thought that Tilda was pregnant, he’d seen his chance to leave, to change everything, disappear.
So, now, to come back to this, was more than a little startling. And he hadn’t handled it the best. And his son had been witness to that.
He could do better. He would do better. He stabbed his last bite of pancake when Tilda’s phone buzzed. She picked it up, studied the text message and frowned.
“Who’s that, Mom?” Josh asked.
“A parent of one of my students.”
“You give your cell-phone number out to all the parents?” he asked.
She nodded. “At the beginning of the year, at parent–teacher night. We talk about all the ways that I’ll communicate with them and how they can communicate with me.” She paused. “It’s funny, though. I don’t remember this parent being there. I’m sure I’ve never met her, and now she wants me to come to her house.”
“You do that?” Blaine asked brusquely. It didn’t sound like a great idea to him. Kind of like approaching a deserted building that nobody had scouted out and cleared in advance.
“No one has ever asked before,” she admitted. “But I’m grateful that she’s reached out. Her son, Toby, is the one who is in danger of failing my class and not graduating. I don’t want that to happen.”
“That’s the kid that you were meeting with after school.”
“Yes.”
Animosity had rolled off that kid. And an apple didn’t necessarily fall far from the tree. Tilda could be walking into a very hostile situation with no one to protect her. “Are you going to do it?”
She put her phone aside. “I shouldn’t. It’s against school policy. A couple of years ago, a teacher went to a student’s house, and there were some accusations of inappropriate behavior on the part of the teacher. He denied it, but it was a mess for the school.” She sighed. “But I really do want to talk to these parents. Maybe there’s another way. I’ll work on that later. Because today,” she said, smiling at Josh, “I’m all about this kid.”
Blaine figured that was his cue to leave. He picked up his empty plate and carried it to the sink. “Thanks for breakfast. It was delicious.”
“That’s nothing,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “You should taste my French toast.”
“Another time,” he said. Tilda looked lovely this morning. She had flawless skin that required no makeup. And her long, dark hair had always been stunning. She’d truly been the prettiest girl in his senior class, and her beauty had deepened over the years.
He ruffled Josh’s hair on his way past. “Get some sleep, okay?” he said.
“I will,” his son said. “Thanks... Blaine.”
Had he almost said Dad? Blaine could feel his heart race in his chest. Knew it didn’t really matter what Josh called him but also knew that hearing Dad on his son’s lips would be one hell of a sweet sound. “Happy to assist,” he said. “See you later, Tilda.”
“Did you want to take Josh out to dinner tonight?” she asked quickly. “I mean, it didn’t work out so well last night.”
She was willing to stay back, to give him time with Josh. But what message did that send to his son? “How about I take both of you out tonight?”
He could tell she was surprised. “Um...sure,” she said, likely remembering her pledge that she could also try to do better.
“Great. I’ll see you at six.”
* * *
The house seemed very quiet after he left. Then Josh pushed back his chair and carried his empty plate to the sink. Turned to look at her. “He was pretty great last night.”
The quiet, heartfelt admission made her throat feel tight. He’d been pretty great this morning, too. “I’m glad he found you.”
“I guess I didn’t think things through very well.”
“What happened, Josh?” she asked quietly. “What made it so important to get away?”
He shrugged. “Guys were saying stuff, you know.”
“About Blaine?”
“Yeah. Him, other Coltons. Me, now that I’m a Colton.” He paused. “Other stuff, too,” he added, almost mumbling.
She’d been working with teens for many years. Knew that other stuff could be code for things I can’t talk to you about. “About me?”
He nodded, looking miserable.
&nb
sp; “What?” she asked gently. “Don’t worry, honey. I can take it.”
“That you were a whore, lying to the man you married about who was the father of your baby.”
Ouch. It hurt...she couldn’t deny that. But nor could she control wagging tongues and people with so much time on their hands that they filled it with stupid gossip. “I never lied to Dorian. He knew the truth from the very beginning. I told you that.”
“I know, and I told them that, but they said there was no way to prove that now because he’s dead.”
So true. And maybe things would have been different if Dorian hadn’t been there, hadn’t been so available and so willing to offer a solution that seemed to meet both of their needs. Hell, met Josh’s needs, too. He had a father who was there.
“So, here’s the thing, Josh. I know the truth. You know the truth. Blaine knows the truth. The people that we love and care about have been told the truth, and they believe it. You can’t care what anybody else thinks. I know that’s easy to say and hard to live, but I’m going to need you to do that.”
“I’ll try.”
“Did you tell Blaine what the kids said?” she asked.
“No. Not that part. I did tell what they said about him. That he’d gotten pushed out of the army.”
What? And just that quick, she remembered the look that had passed between her parents last night and their odd remark about something being ridiculous. But when she’d questioned it, they clearly hadn’t wanted to discuss it. She hadn’t cared last night because she had much bigger things to worry about. But now, she wondered if her parents had heard something. “What did Blaine say about that?”
“He said it was true.”
Wow. “Did he say why?”
“He...messed around with another soldier, a woman, and got in trouble for it. She has a weird first name. Honor.”
She felt a pain in her chest. Had Blaine loved the woman? Did he still love her? Who was she? She had a thousand questions. But even if Blaine had offered up details to Josh, she should not be pumping her son for information on his father’s sex life.
“Your dad’s friends are not our concern. Here’s what I think you need to focus on, Josh. I think your dad was a good soldier, and he’s a good man.”
“I just want school to be over with.”
“Soon,” she said. “But we can’t really deal with problems by hoping that they’ll go away.”
“I know that. But it will be easier if I don’t have to see the creeps who are saying these things every day.”
Hard to argue with that.
“Can I have my phone back now?” Josh asked.
“Are you ready for that? You might see things on there that are going to be hurtful.”
“I’m just going to ignore it.”
“Okay. But no texting Isaac or other friends. They’re in school, where you should be. No social media. You can play a few games, but what I really want is for you to catch up on your sleep and to make sure that all your homework is done. I’m also going to call your doctor’s office. They may want to see you.”
“Fine,” he readily agreed.
She had a feeling he might agree to anything about now.
“I really am sorry, Mom.”
She wrapped her son in her arms. “People screw up, Josh. Kids do. Adults, too. The important thing is to learn from the situation.”
“Oh, I learned. That mountain is really cold at night. And you’re a dummy if you let your matches get wet.”
“Both good lessons. Now get to bed.”
She sat in her quiet kitchen, staring at the wall. It had not dawned on her that Blaine might have a love interest. It was stupid that it hadn’t. He was so handsome and had such a dynamic personality. Would Honor follow Blaine to Roaring Springs? Would they marry? Was Josh going to have a stepmom?
Her head was spinning. But most of all, she felt empty. At one time, she’d cared very much for Blaine Colton. Had known that he didn’t feel the same and had accepted that. To the point that she’d married another man. But there’d always been a piece of her heart that she’d reserved for Blaine.
It felt a bit as if that part was breaking right now.
Chapter 13
Blaine had gotten about an hour of sleep at the cabin, and like Josh, he should have been headed to bed, but he was too wired to sleep. He’d driven from Tilda’s house back to The Lodge, but now, instead of getting some shut-eye, he sat in his vehicle. It was still too early and too cold for there to be much outside activity. Only a few guests were milling around the grounds. Inside, the restaurants and coffee shops were probably doing a brisk business, but he’d already had enough of that.
In the quiet warmth of his vehicle, he could admit that he still felt a little numb from the experience of searching for and finding Josh. Not in the physical sense. His bones had thawed, but mentally, he was still a little raw. He’d done search and rescue missions before. But never with more on the line.
As a parent, the need to do whatever it took to keep his child safe had been instinctual. But instinct still took effort, and as he and Josh had skied down the mountain early this morning, he’d thought about the huge responsibility that Tilda had taken on. It was some of what Sloane had been trying to tell him when she’d lectured him about being too hard on Tilda.
It was true. He hadn’t been there for the ear infections and the croup. Hadn’t dealt with playground falls and bad dreams. Dorian had done that for Tilda. For his son. And maybe it was time to stop being angry at a dead man and start being thankful that Tilda had not been on her own, too weighted down by worry and responsibility to be a good parent.
Because she’d done a damn good job with his kid.
And was continuing to do so. Even this morning, she’d been thinking more about what would be best for him than what her own needs might be.
He’d told her she was selfish. That gnawed at him now. He’d been angry but should have known better. As a parent, she was selfless, and to question her love of or her commitment to Josh was plain asinine. He wouldn’t do it again.
Blaine saw a couple male employees exit the staff entrance. He didn’t know their names, but he recognized their faces. They were carrying cardboard boxes and talking animatedly. He rolled down his window to try to hear, but the wind carried their voices the other direction.
They each went to a vehicle, tossed their box in the back seat and drove off. Blaine opened his door, walked inside and went to find Decker. Earlier he’d sent a text letting Decker know that he and Josh were both back, but his brother would want details.
When he got to his brother’s office, Penny gave him a quick smile, but she wasn’t her normal friendly self. She told him to wait, that his brother was meeting with a couple managers. Ten minutes later, a man and woman, both midforties, came out of Decker’s office. His brother followed them out and shook hands with both. “Thank you,” he said to them.
The two left without looking at Blaine. He wasn’t sure why, but he got a creepy, crawling feeling up the back of his neck. “What’s going on?” he asked, as he followed his brother back to his office.
“Why do you ask?” Decker said. He motioned for Blaine to have a seat and then joined him at the small table.
“Because I saw two employees leaving with boxes, like they might have cleaned out their lockers. You’re holed up with two managers. And Penny is acting weird.”
“Just a little turnover. We’re a business. That happens. So, things went well with Josh?”
“Yeah. He was at the cabin. We’re going to need to send somebody up to fix the window when it gets a little warmer. We stayed the night and then skied down this morning. Stopped here for my vehicle, and right now, he’s crawling into bed with his stomach full of his mom’s pancakes.”
“You two have a chance to talk about what sent him running into the mountains?�
�� Decker asked.
“We did. Some kids were giving him a hard time about me. Word has gotten out that I had a little assistance with my discharge status.”
“I see,” his brother replied.
“You don’t seem to be surprised.”
Decker stared somewhere above Blaine’s head.
“What?” Blaine demanded.
“Damn fools,” Decker muttered.
“Who? Me?”
“No. Not you. Couple of our best maintenance guys were going on about the same thing this morning. Their managers warned them to stop, but they just picked up speed. It was upsetting the rest of the crew. Managers told them they were suspended, to take a few days off to think about their actions. They said that they’d rather quit than work for the Coltons. The very, very privileged Coltons.” He did the last part in air quotes.
Damn. “I’m sorry.”
Decker waved a hand. “It’s just a tough time to lose a couple more men. We already have somebody on leave for back surgery, and another one needs a couple weeks off to get his mom settled in an assisted-living facility.”
“I’d be happy to help,” Blaine said. “Pick up the slack.”
“That’s not—”
“Listen, it’s going to warm up finally, which means we’ll be off the slopes by early next week. I’ll have the time. I’m pretty handy.”
“This isn’t glamorous work,” Decker warned. “It’s everything from changing light bulbs to unclogging sinks to providing some basic supervision for subcontractors that are on-site. Our maintenance office produces work orders. You’ll be expected to take what comes your way.”
“I can do that.”
Decker shook his head. “Fine. I’ll let the managers know that you’re filling in. When can you start?”
He really needed a quick nap. “Right now,” he said.
Three hours later, his stack of work orders about half-done, he headed across the lobby towards the maintenance office in the lower level to pick up some glue to replace a guest’s bathroom tile. He had just pressed the button on the service elevator, when he caught a glimpse of a man in the lobby that made him stop short.
