Rugged Fire [Rugged Savage Valley, Colorado 4]

by Edith DuBois

  “No, not as well as I should have, I dare say.” Mrs. Carson reached across the table and patted Lianne’s hand. “You do her memory credit. God bless her soul.”

  Lianne bit her lip, her emotions feeling suddenly very tender. “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Carson gave one more solid pat and then released her hand. “Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

  “Well, when we were growing up, Noah would always tell me these stories. They were stories that he heard from his father about the bear-shifters and the family history. He said there was some sort of journal written by his six-times-great-grandmother, or something like that, with the family history written out.”

  “Yes, Helen Strong, I believe. She spoke with all of the original bear-shifter families and recorded their stories for future generations.”

  “Well, it seemed to me that Noah and Carter always held a bit of a grudge against the rest of the families.”

  “‘Grudge’ is one word for it.” Mrs. Carson sniffed.

  Lianne chuckled. “Yeah, they’re a bit rough. But I was wondering if you knew anything about that? Noah would never tell me what it was, but somehow I got the idea that it must be related to the original families. It always seemed to go back to that.”

  “Oh I remember this story well. In fact, after I became engaged to Will and Seb’s fathers, it was one of the first things they shared with me. You know who each of the original wives were, I trust?”

  Lianne nodded.

  “So you know that Charlotte Wilson, sole daughter of Charles and Violet Wilson, was the original Carson wife?”

  She nodded again.

  “Did you know that the Carsons inherited Savage Valley Bank from Mr. Wilson?”

  “I didn’t!”

  “They did. Mr. Wilson loved Luke and Matthew Carson like sons, and really, he spoiled Charlotte rotten, but I’m getting ahead of myself. To begin with, you must know that Charlotte’s daddy let her have almost anything she wanted. Practically everything her heart desired. She wanted a new dress, and her daddy bought her three. She wanted a new set of combs, and her daddy ordered them from London. She wanted to learn French, and her daddy brought in a tutor straight from Paris. There was only one thing, only one desire, that he would not give in to.

  “Charlotte wanted herself a beau. Plenty of the local gents asked to court his beautiful, headstrong daughter, but Charles Wilson put his foot down. ‘Not until she’s twenty-five,’ he said, which is most absurd and quite unheard of in those times, but his mind was made up. Even his wife tried to coax him to at least allow her to have a couple gentlemen callers at the age of twenty-one, but Mr. Wilson said no.

  “So when all her friends started pairing up with the local bucks, and then getting engaged, and then marrying, Charlotte started to get a little antsy and resentful. She loved her daddy, don’t get me wrong, and she understood that it would be difficult for him when she left his household, but twenty-five was ridiculous. So she decided to take matters into her own hands. And as chance would have it, Charlotte twisted her ankle and went to visit the Doctors Ashley. While there she had herself a chat with Moira Ashley, their wife, and of course an original wife, and in practically no time at all, it was decided that Charlotte would be the next bear wife.”

  Mrs. Carson tilted her head up for a moment.

  “What?” Lianne asked.

  “You know, she must have been very desperate to not only agree to marry two men, but to marry two men that also shifted into bears.”

  Lianne snorted. “Or maybe she was insane?”

  “You’re probably right, but then aren’t we all?”

  “Good point.”

  “Now what you should know is that Charlotte—as agreed upon by she, Moira, and Anne Kinman—would be taken out to a specific spot in the forest. Then the Greenwood bears would be brought to her, and you can imagine what would happen after that.”

  “They’d be mates.”

  Mrs. Carson gave her an amused smile. “Yes, dear. But, you know, things rarely go according to plan, and when Charlotte snuck out of her house and got to the appointed spot, she waited. But she was an impatient and impetuous girl and so decided to go find these bear-shifters herself. She wandered through the forest alone for quite some time so that by the time she did stumble upon the bears, she was exhausted, hungry, and quite frazzled, I imagine.

  “Now this is where it gets really tricky. She was supposed to be matched up with the Greenwoods, but one of the Greenwoods was gone, and it turns out that he came upon a young Indian woman in the forest and bonded with her before Charlotte made her grand entrance. So the Greenwoods were already attached to a woman they’d never met before because bear-shifter brothers can only be mated to the same woman, and then Charlotte waltzes in and the Carson brothers take in her scent, and before you know it, she’s bonded with the Carsons instead of the Greenwoods.”

  Lianne imagined what Charlotte Wilson would have looked like and how she would have acted. It seemed like the Carsons’ ancestor had a lot in common with Lianne. She’d grown up in Savage Valley. She was very involved and connected with people in town. She was independent and thought for herself. She was spirited.

  Yes, Lianne quite approved of this Charlotte Wilson.

  “But what about the rift with the Strongs? Where does that come into play?”

  “Oh yes, of course. Well, they got left behind. Plain and simple, and they didn’t like it.”

  “That’s it? They were pouting because they were the last bear family to get a wife?”

  “That’s about the sum of it.”

  “Hmm.” Lianne thought there might be more to that story than Mrs. Carson let on, but she wouldn’t push. She’d ask Will and Seb about it to see if they knew anything different. She slurped down the rest of her orange juice and then helped Mrs. Carson clean up in the kitchen.

  “We can leave most of this out because my boys will want something when they finally wake up. Just put the eggs and milk away, please, dear.”

  After everything was finished, Lianne yawned. “Well, I think I’ll head back up to—” She cut herself off, realizing that it could be a tad inappropriate to admit to Mrs. Carson that she was headed back up to bed with her sons.

  Mrs. Carson patted her on the cheek. “Make sure you keep your socks on. It can get a bit drafty on this side of the house.”

  With that, she turned and headed back over to the annex.

  * * * *

  Lianne pawed nervously through her portfolio. She didn’t need it with her, not for what she had to do, but it was nice to have something to clutch against her chest when a fresh wave of anxiety hit. There was only one other person in the luxurious lobby, and he was engrossed with his phone. She shot a furtive glance at the administrative assistant behind the front desk, but he also was engrossed with his work.

  She wished Seb and Will were with her. She wanted to hold their hands and feel them beside her for this, even if they didn’t say anything. But she knew this was something she needed to do alone.

  “Mrs. Seward, Mr. Norman will see you now.”

  She bolted out of her chair at the sound of her name. Then she took a deep breath, straightened her blazer, and followed the receptionist down the hall to Mr. Norman’s office. One time, when they were teenagers and Lianne had to ask Mr. Norman for permission to let Jamie stay with her in Savage Valley for a month, Jamie had offered her advice on how to deal with her father.

  Look him in the eye, and don’t let him talk down to you.

  The receptionist opened the door, ushered Lianne inside, and then closed the door behind her. This was it. She had to be strong. She had to stick to her guns.

  After the last couple of nights with Will and Seb, Lianne realized that she couldn’t accept Mr. Norman’s offer. She’d thought and thought about it, thought about everything she’d be giving up and everything she’d be gaining by choosing to stick with Seb and Will. She’d written out a huge, sprawling list of pros and cons, and then once she�
��d made her decision, she’d written out a huge, sprawling list of reasons to explain her decision to Mr. Norman.

  That didn’t mean she was ready for this.

  I am a smart, successful individual.

  I’ve been running my own company for almost two years. I know what I’m doing.

  I don’t have anything to worry about. These kinds of conversations happen all the time.

  Besides, I am a badass, motherfucking businesswoman.

  That was a bit of a stretch, she knew, but it was probably better to overshoot rather than hold back in situations like this one.

  “Lianne,” Ulysses said, rising from his high-backed leather chair and walking around to shake her hand. “It’s lovely to see you this morning. I trust your drive was all right?”

  “Yes, thank you. It was a great drive. Really great.”

  “Please have a seat.” He gestured to a chair, pulling it out for her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you like anything to drink? We have orange juice, soda, water, coffee, anything you’d like.”

  “No thank you. I had a coffee on the way here. Thank you.”

  Lianne had a strange feeling. She couldn’t stop saying “thank you.” She couldn’t catch her breath either. Mr. Norman’s behavior and…well, his civility was so different than the way Jamie had painted him. He seemed very attentive and almost a little nervous himself. Jamie always talked about how manipulative he was, and how condescending and controlling. Maybe it was just an outsider’s perspective, but so far, Lianne had found him to be exceedingly pleasant.

  It was making her nervous.

  “So let’s cut to the chase, shall we,” Mr. Norman said. “You’ve come here to further discuss my offer.”

  She let out a breath and felt her shoulders slump a little in relief that she wasn’t the one who had to bring it up. “Yes.”

  “Good. It shows integrity that you’ve come in person rather than informing me via phone or e-mail. I appreciate that. But, please, I’d like to say something first.”

  “Of course. Go ahead.”

  He drummed his fingers on his desk and gazed at her, quite openly, for an uncomfortably long moment. She shifted in her seat. He continued to stare.

  “Mr. Norman?” she ventured.

  “Excuse me,” he said, frowning, “I got lost in a thought.” With efficient movement, he pulled open a drawer and fished out a manila envelope. He placed it before her. “That is for you. It’s from your mother.”

  Whatever Lianne had been expecting, whatever direction she’d dreamed and feared and hoped this meeting would go, this was not it.

  “My m–mother?” She choked on the word and stared at the envelope. For some reason, she didn’t reach for it. It seemed volatile, dangerous, lethal. A Pandora’s box. She couldn’t be sure if she actually wanted to open such a thing.

  Mr. Norman nodded. “I saw her the day you were born. I visited her in the hospital.”

  “You were there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I felt obligated. Forgive me. That sounds wrong. It was my responsibility. I wanted to be there.”

  “Oh god.” Everything felt gooey. Everything felt hot and sticky and gooey. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t think. She and Jamie. Jamie and her. Everyone always said they were twins. The summers in Savage Valley. Mr. Norman’s obsession with the town. Everything fell into place, but everything fell out of place.

  “You’re not…you can’t be…it can’t be you…not all these years.” She didn’t even know what she was saying. Her voice sounded a thousand miles away. The space around her head felt so heavy. “Oh my god, the piano. That was you. That was you?”

  “Yes. That was me.”

  And then Mr. Norman was right in front of her, lightly slapping her cheek and speaking in a stern voice, saying something about her looking. She needed to look somewhere. At something. At someone. At him.

  Her eyes focused and she sucked in deep lungfuls of air, the oxygen replenishing her bloodstream and bringing her thoughts back into order. “What are you trying to say?” she asked, still gasping. “What the hell are you trying to tell me? Are you saying that you’re my father? That you’ve known, all these years, that I was your daughter and you never said a goddamn word? Oh god, Jamie. Jamie, Jamie,” she whispered her friend’s name, wondering what her friend would think or how she would react. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real.

  “Lianne, no. I’m sorry. No, you’ve misunderstood. I’m not your father. I wasn’t there because I thought it was my duty. I mean, it was, but not in that way. Not in the way you’re thinking. I’m not your father.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and stared at him. She sucked in another deep breath. “But you know who is,” she finally said. It wasn’t a question. She knew. All of sudden, she just knew.

  Mr. Norman nodded. “I do.”

  “And him, whoever he is, he’s in that envelope, isn’t he?”

  Mr. Norman nodded again.

  “Why now? Why this moment? You’ve had so much time, so many opportunities.”

  “When you were born, your mother made me promise to keep his identity a secret. She thought it might affect things—your life, mainly—if people knew.”

  “And after she passed? Why not then?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know you. I know how Jamie feels about me, and honestly, I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to know, after having gone so long without.”

  She sat for a moment, almost completely unable to think or process anything. “I think I’ll take that orange juice now, maybe with a little vodka if you’ve got it.”

  “Aren’t you driving home?”

  She glared at him.

  “Okay, but only a splash.” After a couple sips, Lianne sat back in her chair and met Mr. Norman’s gaze. He’d moved back to his side of the desk and was watching her intently.

  “So?”

  Mr. Norman smiled tightly. “Take the envelope. Don’t look at it here. I don’t want my presence to disturb you as you review the information. Come back after lunch. John at reception will let you in. After you’ve had a bit of time to think, I’d like to discuss your company.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him that she’d already made a decision, but he held his hand up, silencing her. “Please wait until this afternoon to discuss it further. Please open the envelope and think about what’s inside. And please, remember, I’ve always stuck close to my family.”

  She frowned, unnerved by his last statement. Skyler had impressed upon her how important it was to keep that side of their discussion strictly between him and her. He seemed to believe that Mr. Norman would never admit to those ulterior motives, so why would he bring up family now? Especially when Lianne, of all people in the universe, would know that what he said wasn’t true. He and his daughter barely even spoke to each other. Lianne had heard story after story of how he never paid attention to Jamie. He never showed up to any of her piano recitals. He was always in the office, from six in the morning every day until past midnight every night. He didn’t come to her graduation ceremony. He sent all of her calls to voice mail. From what Lianne had heard from Jamie, Ulysses C. Norman was not a man who gave a rat’s ass about family.

  She’d originally accepted Mr. Norman’s offer in the heat of the moment. She’d been angry at the twins, but now, everything seemed murkier. This envelope’s appearance felt a little too convenient. But she wanted to open it. She wanted to rip into it. And Mr. Norman was right.

  She didn’t want to do that in front of him.

  “Okay,” she heard herself saying. “I guess I’ll see you this afternoon. After”—she held up the envelope—“well, after this.”

  An hour or so later, after she had a cinnamon latte and pain au chocolat in her stomach, she pulled the envelope out of her purse and set it on the small café table in front of her. She wished she had one of her mother’s journals with her. She wanted that sm
all piece with her when she opened the envelope. A piece of her mother and a piece of her father.

  A cold sweat broke out across her brow at that thought. This is it. I’m finally going to know who he is. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath because her hands were trembling. “Just open the damn thing, Lianne.”

  Fingers still shaky, she pulled on the metal tabs and then slipped the flap off. Her hands clenched for a moment, but she forced them to move again and reach inside the envelope. She grasped a thick packet of papers and with one final breath pulled them free.

  At the very top was a note in her mother’s handwriting.

  Ulysses,

  Thank you for your stolid presence these last few weeks. No matter where our lives lead us, I will ever be grateful for all that you’ve done for me, but more importantly, for my daughter. This may not seem logical or even practical, but for personal reasons, I’ve decided to keep Lianne’s father’s identity from her. I would appreciate it if you did the same. I’ve enclosed all documents with this information in case you need them for legal reasons in the future.

  However, I must insist that you not visit our little family anymore. I know you do so out of the goodness of your heart, but I must firmly insist that you do not. I feel myself too dependent on you already, and as you know, I’m rather resentful of the debts I owe others. I shall forever owe Nicholas for this tiny, precious gift he’s given me, and yet I shall forever be unable to repay him.

  But I’m rambling. Again, thank you for your every kindness. All the best to you, your wife, and the newest addition to the family, your own darling girl.

  Emeline

  Lianne pressed the letter flat across the other documents, covering them for a moment. “Nicholas,” she whispered. “My father’s name is Nicholas.”

  Her mother’s letter raised so many new questions. Why would she write this? Why would she send all of this stuff to Mr. Norman? Why would he be helping her? She’d already glanced at the date and knew her mother had written this only a couple months after her own birth. Why would he be taking care of her and her mother? Who was Nicholas? Who was her father?