So in Love

by Darcy Burke

“Back to the story,” she continued, effectively cutting off his train of thought—at least for now. “So Dorinda arrives here and marries Hiram Olsen, and they build Bird’s Nest Ranch. He dies—wow, this really is a sad story—and she turns the ranch into a boardinghouse.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t work out.” She slid the peppers from the cutting board into a bowl, then moved on to the mushrooms, going to the sink to wash them.

  “Let me wash. You talk and cut.” He brought the rest of the veggies over and set to work.

  She stood beside him while he finished the mushrooms. “Somewhere along the line, the boardinghouse became a brothel—the specifics of that aren’t discussed. I’d love to get my hands on the actual letters from Dorinda. Can you imagine how much I’d be able to glean from her own writings?”

  He handed her the mushrooms, his gaze meeting hers. He loved her passion for this project. “I can.”

  She went back to the cutting board, and he started washing broccoli. “This next part is a bit uncomfortable with regard to your family—sorry. After the brothel was opened, the mayor threatened her several times.”

  “I wish I could say I was surprised, but the evidence would support otherwise.” It was past time to tell her what he knew. He finished with the broccoli and set it in a colander before turning off the sink. He grabbed a towel to dry his hands and turned to face her at the island.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  She didn’t stop slicing. “What?”

  He moved to her side. “Stop for a second.”

  She laid the knife down and pivoted toward him. “What’s the matter?”

  “That day that I went to my mom’s to go through the Stowe memorabilia—we found something. She asked me not to say anything until we had more information.”

  He watched her jaw work as she swallowed. “What did you find?”

  “A couple of letters. One was from Turner Stowe to his mother. Turner was the youngest of Redmond’s sons and not involved in the KKK. Thankfully, he’s the one I look like.” He offered a meek smile.

  “Really? There are pictures?”

  He nodded. “Mom plans to turn them over to Kelsey.”

  “I see.” She sounded…disappointed. Or something. “I’d love to see them.”

  He touched her arm, cupping her elbow. “Hey, she planned to give them to Kelsey because of the exhibit. It’s not like she was trying to circumvent you.”

  “I get it.”

  He wasn’t convinced but decided to continue. “Turner’s letter was from 1923 and mentioned some interesting things. First, Hoyt had died and Turner said he never meant for it to happen.”

  “Actually, I think I know about that part,” Crystal said. “Maybe I didn’t tell you. Sometimes I forget who knows what about this tangled story. Darryl found a couple of articles about an altercation involving a KKK group. The leader was stabbed to death, but the killer wasn’t identified or found.”

  Jamie leaned his hip against the counter. “Wow. Turner said he never meant to cause harm, only to enforce justice. He said Hoyt and their father, Redmond, weren’t good men. Do you think Turner killed him?”

  Crystal’s eyes widened briefly. “Anything’s possible with this crazy story, don’t you think?”

  “I’m beginning to, yes. Turner’s letter also outright said they’d murdered a woman out of hate and intolerance.”

  Crystal lifted her hand to her mouth. “So they meant to kill Dorinda. Why?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. But here’s what I do know: Turner married a woman of color. There’s another letter from his aunt—her name was Clara—to his mother, Lavinia. She said she’d received the things Lavinia had sent but hadn’t destroyed them yet.”

  Crystal gasped. “What things?”

  “She didn’t say, but there were a lot of blank pages in the photo albums. I think those photos might’ve been part of what she’d sent.”

  “KKK pictures, maybe?”

  “Maybe. Clara also said it was good Lavinia was going to visit Turner and his family. She said it didn’t matter what color Lavinia’s grandchildren were, that they carried her blood and that’s all that mattered.”

  Crystal blinked, her expression sad. “They sound like a family torn apart. I imagine that was hard for your mother—all of it, really.”

  Her care for his mother touched him. “I’ll tell her you said that. She thinks this is all private family stuff, but she also understands it’s historically important.” He thought she understood that.

  “I can see why she didn’t want to share this.” She looked up at him. “But I’m glad you did.”

  “I feel like a jerk for not telling you sooner. But she asked me not to. She wanted to find out more information about Turner. I’m trying to do a little research on my own.” The edge of his mouth tipped up in a half smile. “I think you inspired me.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “That is so sweet.” She stood on her toes and kissed him, but it was all too brief. “The water’s boiling.” She went to dump the pasta in.

  “I want you to know that when my mom asked me to keep this hush-hush, she included everyone, not just you.”

  Crystal came back to the cutting board and finished up with the broccoli. “Everyone?”

  “Yep, including my brothers. I talked to my dad today, and he said I should tell them. So I’ll talk to them at work in the morning. I figured they could tell Kelsey and Brooke.”

  “That’s a great plan. Very thoughtful of you.” She threw him an admiring glance before cutting open the package of chicken.

  Jamie’s chest felt as though it might burst. That had gone so much better than he’d anticipated. What had he expected? That she’d be angry? Maybe. And she had a right to be. But no, she’d been understanding and supportive.

  “Can you start a pan for the veggies? They won’t take long, then I’ll cook the chicken in the same pan and we can toss everything together.”

  “Sounds great.” He pulled a pan out and heated up a little lemon olive oil. “You must be teeming with ideas. Have you been writing?”

  She brought the bowl of vegetables over and dumped them in the pan. She gave him a shy look. “Yeah. It’s been…fun.”

  “That’s great.” He pulled a wooden spoon from the drawer.

  “Thanks. Hey, do you mind tending the veggies while I slice up the chicken?”

  “No problem.”

  She smiled at him, her eyes glowing and heating him up in the process. He supposed it could be the burner under the pan, but he knew it was her. Nights like tonight made a future with her seem more than possible. They made it seem necessary. He wanted to hold on to every moment with her.

  “And thanks for your support with everything,” she said. “It means a lot to me.”

  He leaned back from the stove and kissed her, his lips claiming hers briefly. “You mean a lot to me.”

  Later, after dinner, he showed her just how very much. With help from the whipped cream he’d found in her grocery bag.

  12

  Crystal pulled into the West Arch Estate lot and parked near the door. She hopped out of the car and blinked against the brilliant sunshine, despite the fact that she was wearing her shades. It was a gorgeous winter day—cold, but the deep blue of the sky more than made up for it.

  She’d been working on her proposal, her fingers flying over the keyboard, when Jamie had called to invite her up to the vineyard for lunch. She’d actually been loath to take a break, but in the end hadn’t been able to say no to him.

  This was a recurring theme. She’d spent the night at his loft after surprising him with dinner. Then last night he’d shown up on her doorstep with dinner—albeit takeout. She didn’t mind since Slice of Pi had the best pizza west of the Mississippi. Actually, it was probably the best on the east side too. The owner was a retired math teacher and a good friend of Jamie’s family. In fact, he’d been Jamie’s favorite teacher and a bit of a mentor to him when
he went to college. Crystal had felt a pang of envy when he talked about it.

  School had never been her forte. It had been more like a nightmare. She couldn’t have gone to college even if she’d wanted to, not with her grades. Well, she supposed she could’ve gone to community college for a while, but doubted she would’ve fared any better there. That she’d managed to pull off a successful, lucrative career seemed like the heist of the century.

  Except she hadn’t stolen it—it had been handed to her.

  Geez, why was she standing here in the brilliance of a spectacular day, about to have lunch with her hot dude and letting her insecurity crap all over it?

  Wait, “her hot dude”? Was that what he was?

  He certainly wasn’t her boyfriend. Even if he sort of felt like one.

  Stop it. We aren’t going there!

  Scoffing at herself, she went into the winery. The main entry led into a great room where they had tastings. A long counter ran along the right side, and behind that wall was a spacious kitchen. Upstairs were the offices—Hayden’s and Cam’s on one end and Luke’s and Jamie’s on the other. Crystal hadn’t been here since she’d started seeing Jamie, but she’d had a tour on one of her visits to town last year.

  Seeing Jamie?

  What the hell else would you call it?

  Okay, she had to stop this internal dialogue.

  Would it be better if we discussed it out loud? Plenty of people talk to themselves, you know.

  Crystal stifled a laugh. Maybe she was losing it. She had been spending a lot of time in front of the computer screen.

  Turning to the right, she went up the stairs to the top floor. A large conference room overlooked the vineyard; it was a stunning view. After pausing to appreciate it for a moment, she went on to Jamie’s office. The door was ajar, so she pushed it open.

  He was on the phone but made eye contact with her, his gaze lighting up and his lips splitting into a sexy smile. Her heart skipped a beat, and she tried her damnedest to ignore it.

  “Thanks, Bill. Bye.” He hung up the phone and jumped out of his chair. Circling the desk, he landed in front of her, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her soundly. “I missed you.”

  She looked up at him, resting her hands on his chest. “Since this morning?”

  “Always.” He kissed her again, his tongue finding hers, and for a moment, they surrendered to the ever-present electricity that zinged between them. “Plus, you’re leaving tomorrow for like two weeks or some ridiculous amount of time so I have to get all the Crystal I can.”

  “Great, now you sound like a meth addict.”

  He laughed. “Oh, I’m an addict all right.” He gave her a suggestive look and glanced toward the couch.

  She arched a brow at him. “There are piles.”

  “Of course. But I can move them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I came for lunch.”

  “And I have that too. In the kitchen. But first I thought you might like to take a walk up to the excavation site now that they’re done. I’d suggest a picnic, but it’s too cold.”

  “Too bad, that does sound fun. I’d love to see the site, thanks.”

  He snagged his sunglasses from the desk and his coat from the back of the door, then they were on their way downstairs. He paused before they went outside and changed his shoes, putting on a pair of boots from the closet. “Good thing you wore boots today—and not those sexy ones with the killer heel.”

  “Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t wear those. Still, rain boots would’ve been better.”

  “Brooke’s are in here if you want to borrow them.”

  She considered it. “Mine are fine. If they get too dirty, I’ll just make you clean them.” She leaned close and whispered, “With your tongue.”

  “Ooh, so medieval.” He licked his lips, and she laughed.

  They stepped outside into the bright sunlight and trudged up the hill, hand in hand. The site was just a bare piece of land with the visible outline of where the foundation had once been. The guys—Jamie, his brothers, and Hayden—had decided to permanently mark the foundation and mount a plaque saying, “Bird’s Nest Ranch, Established 1879 by Hiram and Dorinda Olsen.”

  “The foundation’s going in toward the end of March,” Jamie said. “And I’m going to order the plaque next week—thanks for sending the link.”

  “That’s so cool that you guys are doing that. And thanks for letting the girls and me choose the plaque.”

  “It’s our pleasure. We’re happy to commemorate the history.”

  Crystal knew how supportive they all were, which was great considering she, Kelsey, and Brooke were all so heavily invested. She’d talked to them yesterday after Cam and Luke had shared the Stowe findings. They all felt a little odd about Angie’s reaction to everything. They didn’t want to upset her but also wanted to be faithful to history. Kelsey felt especially weird about it. She wanted to ask for the materials for the exhibit but also wanted to wait for Angie to make the overture. It was an awkward situation for sure.

  “Does being here give you inspiration?’ Jamie asked.

  “Actually, yes. I like knowing that Dorinda walked in this same spot.”

  “Didn’t they find something of hers in the excavation?”

  “They found a cameo brooch, but we don’t know if it was hers. If I ever find any of her family in New York—or anywhere else the trail leads us—I’ll ask them about it.” She’d completed all her Foster phone calls yesterday and was anxiously waiting for Darryl’s list of non-Foster relatives.

  “I think I’ll work it into the story, though,” Crystal said. She’d mapped out a romance arc for act one, which culminated in Hiram’s death. Act two climaxed with Dorinda deciding to open a brothel. And act three was pretty much about the KKK.

  “How’s that?”

  “Hiram gave it to her of course, as a betrothal present. He wants to show her that he’s thoughtful and that he can provide for her.”

  “Giving her a brooch does all that?”

  “Sure. They’re out here in the middle of nowhere, and he thinks to give her something pretty. It’s utterly unnecessary, which illustrates that he can afford things beyond the necessities. I think that’s an important quality in a nineteenth-century prairie husband.”

  Jamie laughed. “Um, yeah. I think it’s an important quality in a twenty-first century husband pretty much anywhere.” He sobered. “In all seriousness, that’s a nice trait.”

  She beamed up at him. “I think so too.”

  “You’re really into this story. It’s brilliant.”

  Her smile diminished. “I’m nervous about how it’s all going to play out.”

  “Why? It sounds great and you have such an ‘in.’”

  “What, because of Alaina?” Her brow pleated. “She’s not helping me. This is my project. I guess that’s why I’m nervous. Sometimes I wonder where I’d be if it weren’t for her.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I owe pretty much everything to her. I told you about how I left Blueville.” She took a few steps away from him and looked back over her shoulder. “In fact, sometimes I wonder what you’re doing with me. A super smart guy like you…”

  Did she think she wasn’t smart? He knew she hadn’t gone to college—his mom had painfully pointed that out at dinner—and that she had a bad habit of discounting herself. And yet she carried herself with confidence, and he knew she’d accomplished a lot—on her own.

  He walked over to her and caressed her shoulder. “Hey. I didn’t know you when you left home, but I know you now and I can see the woman who grew out of that messed-up teen. We’ve all made mistakes, you know.”

  She pivoted toward him, and he dropped his arm to his side. “Really? Name one of yours.”

  He gestured toward the winery. “All you have to do is take one look at my office or my loft and you see that I’m a disaster.”

  “You’re messy—that’s not being a disaster, nor is it a m
istake. You’re smart, successful, and sexy.” Her head tilted down toward his crotch, and his cock twitched.

  “So are you. And I’ve made plenty of mistakes—like goofing off in England when I should’ve been saving money. But that’s what happens when your girlfriend is the daughter of a knight and you have to keep up appearances, as they say.”

  “Is that why money’s tight for you now?”

  He wished he hadn’t brought it up. Stupid filter. “Partly. So don’t go thinking you have the monopoly on dumb choices.”

  She half smiled. “Okay. Thanks for believing in me.”

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her. “Thanks for saying I’m not a disaster.” He winked at her before kissing her again.

  After lunch and a quick “quality test” of the sofa in his office, Crystal headed to the library to check out the exhibit and debrief with Kelsey about the Stowe materials that Angie was holding on to. Crystal parked down the block and made her way inside as Kelsey was just finishing up with a patron. Several others were about—a mother and two children, a guy sitting at a computer, and a few older women browsing.

  “Hey, Crystal!” Kelsey came out from behind the counter. “Marci called in sick, so I can’t go upstairs with you. But we can chat down here. The exhibit’s just about ready. I’m saving some space for Angie’s stuff. Assuming she loans it to us. I guess there are a ton of pictures, including great historic shots of Ribbon Ridge. I can’t believe she didn’t think to give them to me sooner.”

  Crystal didn’t blame Kelsey for feeling disgruntled. This had been a passion of hers for months now, and it wasn’t as if Angie hadn’t heard all about it. Kelsey lived with her son for crying out loud.

  Kelsey took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m just being crabby. It’s not her fault. She hadn’t looked through that stuff in years—not since before her mother died. She would’ve given everything to me sooner if she’d thought of it.”

  “Just think—you might’ve been the one to stumble over those letters she and Jamie found.”

  Kelsey let out a light laugh. “True. How shocking would that have been?”

  “Except they don’t actually say ‘KKK,’ according to Jamie. In fact, without the letter that Darryl found from Lane County, we may not know that Angie’s ancestors were even in the KKK.”