“Uh.” Not eloquent, but it was the only word he could shove past his lips. He needed to tell the woman—Marley—she was wrong. He couldn’t possibly have a sister, much less one he didn’t know existed. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake.”
“Nope. Well, not about this,” she clarified, and although her expression might qualify as a smile, it was really more of a baring of teeth. “My mother’s name is Lorraine Rallston.”
“Miss Lorraine?” The name slid out from a rusty, unused corner of Eli’s mind. He hadn’t heard it in ages, decades really, and despite the woman having been best friends with his mother, Eli only knew of her from secondhand anecdotes and ancient, small-town gossip. “She used to live here in Millhaven, but she moved away.”
Marley’s laugh was quick and joyless. “Twenty-four years ago, to be exact.”
Eli’s brain tilted like an old carnival ride, but no. No fucking way. “Are you trying to say—”
“Tobias Cross is my father.”
Anger flickered, sudden and hot, in Eli’s chest. Cross Creek had gotten an absolute landslide of press lately. Cherry-picking the Internet for vague details like the name of a woman long gone from Millhaven couldn’t be that hard. He didn’t know who this woman really was, or why she’d popped up on their doorstep slinging attitude and accusations, but right about now, he didn’t really give a shit.
“Look,” Eli said, doing some arm crossing of his own. “I’m not sure what you’re after, or where you got your information, but I’m here to tell you, there’s no chance in hell—”
“Eli.”
His father’s voice arrived from behind him, quiet and a gunshot all at once. Eli turned to see his father standing on the floorboards a few feet away, his face loaded with sadness and regret, and Christ, none of this made any sense.
Then with seven little words, his father yanked the rug out from beneath everything Eli had ever known.
“Marley. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Pop?” Eli blinked, absolutely certain he’d misheard his old man. They’d been a family—this family—forever. Marley might bear an uncanny resemblance to his father with those blue eyes and dark hair and the strong set of her jawline, but that was all it was. Coincidence.
And yet, his old man knew who she was. Without asking.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
“How’s your mother?” his father asked, but apparently, it was the wrong question, because Marley’s body went rigid, hurt tearing a path through the anger on her face.
She stabbed her heavy-soled black boots into the welcome mat, her chin snapping up in a defiant lift. “She died three months ago. Not that you care.”
“What?” Eli’s father paled, clearly surprised by the news, and this entire conversation was officially surreal. “How?”
“Pancreatic cancer,” Marley said slowly, her tone slapping the words with a heavy dose of duh despite the tears rimming her heavily made-up eyes.
His father’s throat worked over a swallow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t . . . I didn’t know she was sick.”
“I bet.” She looked up at the porch eave over her head, and Eli would bet she was trying her damndest to keep those tears from spilling. “Anyway, the morning my mother died, she told me all about you. Which, I’ve gotta admit, was a pretty big shocker, since she’d spent the last twenty-three years telling me you’d kicked the bucket just before I was born. But she made me promise to come see you, and whatever, after she died. So now that that’s done and I did what she wanted, I guess we’re good here.”
Marley turned to leave, and his old man took a step toward her at the same time Eli took a step toward him.
“Wait,” his father said, and to Eli’s shock, she actually did. “Come inside, Marley. Please.”
“Why?”
His old man slid a hand over the back of his neck, the look on his face telling Eli this was all too real. “Because you’ve come all the way from Chicago, and I’m sure you’re tired. Why don’t you at least come in and have a cup of coffee and a nice, hot meal?”
“Because I don’t need you,” she said, jamming her hands over the hips of her too-baggy jeans. “You sent my mother away after you knocked her up. You’ve spent the last twenty-three years denying you have a daughter, and you think you can fix that with a cup of freaking coffee? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t get to have a Hallmark moment with me, old man. I’m not your charity case.”
Eli’s adrenaline spiked. He opened his mouth to tell Marley to watch hers, but his father lifted a hand to quell the oh hell no that had to be plastered all over Eli’s face.
“I’m not offerin’ charity. Just some food and a place to rest a spell. After that, you can do what you will.”
“And I won’t have to, you know. Talk to you?”
His old man shook his head. “Not unless you want to.”
“I don’t.”
After a minute during which Eli considered throttling her and his father exercised the patience of Job, Marley huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I guess I could use a nap and something to eat. But after that, I’m out of here.”
“The guest bedroom’s at the top of the stairs,” his father said. “There are towels in the hall bathroom if you feel like washin’ up. Supper’s at five.”
“Great.”
Marley wrapped her arms around herself and crossed the threshold, but only when she’d made her way up all thirteen stairs and shut the door to the bedroom that had once been Hunter’s did Eli turn to face his old man.
“Pop?” So many questions . . . so many questions . . . “Can you help me out here, because I’m not really sure what on God’s green earth just happened.”
“Why don’t we go find your brothers,” he answered, and for the first time in Eli’s life, his old man looked truly broken.
“I need to have a conversation with the three of you that’s long overdue.”
The instant Eli and Tobias walked back into the kitchen, Scarlett knew that whatever had gone down at the front door was far worse than some mishap on the cattle farm. The charming, easy smile that Eli had worn on his way out of the kitchen ten minutes ago was gone as if it had never existed, and Tobias . . .
Oh, God. What the hell had happened?
“Hey,” Scarlett murmured, her heart hopscotching over her ribs. “What’s the matter?”
Eli looked at her. But Hunter had already looked at him, and he was out of his kitchen chair before Eli could say a word.
“E? Pop? What’s going on?”
Tobias sent his gaze from Hunter to Owen to Eli, and good Lord, what could make the man look so wrecked? “I hate to break up the party, but there’s somethin’ I need to discuss with the three of you privately, and it can’t wait.”
Although a thousand questions burned on her tongue, Scarlett swallowed them. “Of course.”
“Why don’t I give you a ride back to your apartment, Scarlett?” Emerson asked, slipping a hand over Hunter’s forearm for a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Owen, you can bring Hunter back to the cottage later, right?”
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
Owen’s expression was as serious as Scarlett had ever seen it—which was really saying something—and she moved toward Eli to kiss him good-bye.
“Do you want me to wait at your place?” she asked quietly, concern pumping through her with every heartbeat. Whatever this conversation was about wasn’t small. Eli would almost certainly need a sounding board when they were done. Plus, just because she wasn’t a Cross didn’t make her immune from worrying about the family she’d come to care for over the last month. They were the closest thing she had to a family herself, other than her dads.
“I don’t know. Yeah,” Eli quickly amended, pulling his keys from the pocket of his jeans and separating the one for his apartment from the rest. “I’ll see you later.”
Dread filled Scarlett’s belly, swift and unrepentant, but she auto-piloted her legs toward the front of the house alon
gside Emerson. A battered Toyota with Illinois license plates sat in the drive next to Eli’s truck, and Scarlett blinked first at the vehicle, then at Emerson.
“Whose car is that?”
Emerson’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.”
Scarlett scraped in a breath and took a total flyer. “Do you have any idea what’s going on in there?”
“No,” Emerson said. “But I’m sure we will soon enough.”
“Yeah.” Scarlett nodded. She knew Emerson was right.
So why the hell wouldn’t this vise grip of dread ease up on her gut?
She climbed up into the passenger seat of Hunter’s truck, her thoughts taking over as Emerson started the engine and pulled down the gravel drive. Her friend must have been as lost in both worry and thought as she was, because they remained silent for the entire fifteen-minute drive to the Twin Pines. Scarlett thanked Emerson for the ride, barely dodging the cold, fat raindrops just starting to fall from the sky as she made a mad dash for Eli’s apartment. Shivering, she hit the light switch with the back of her hand, illuminating the small space.
Four minutes later, she was thiiiiis close to losing her mind.
“Okay,” Scarlett whispered, not even caring that she was talking to herself, because at this point, she had to prioritize her crazy if she was going to make it through the evening. “You need something to do. Something to keep you busy.”
Her laptop was at her own apartment along with the rest of her stuff, save a toothbrush and a spare pair of clean panties, but that was (sadly) just as well. She didn’t have any photos to edit. She could still work, though—she and Eli were going to need some background on this traveling festival they were covering in Brazil. He’d given her an all-access pass to his laptop weeks ago, so she scooped it up from the coffee table and parked herself on the couch. Sliding her phone out of her back pocket, Scarlett went to open a new page of notes, but the damned thing scared the bejesus out of her by ringing in her hand.
“Gah!” She let loose with a string of top-shelf swear words. Her surprise didn’t dissipate as she looked at the caller ID, though, and her hands were still shaking as she lifted the phone to her ear.
“Rafael? Is everything okay?” She wasn’t supposed to talk to him for another two days, when they were scheduled to firm up all of her and Eli’s flight plans, and solidify their final work itinerary.
The hiss of a long-distance connection echoed in her ear. “Minha querida. It’s not like you to assume the worst,” Rafael joked, and relief crashed into her hard enough to make her laugh.
“Sorry, I’ve just had a weird day. So tell me, what’s up?”
“I do have news,” Rafael said. “But I think you’ll be pleased. I spoke with a friend of mine in Rio. Do you know Matteo Garza?”
Scarlett barely won the fight with her snort. “Yes. Of course.”
Everyone in the industry knew Garza. He ran the biggest travel magazine in Brazil, with circulation to every city that owned a dot on the world map.
“Well, when he heard that I’d booked you to cover the leg of this festival that comes through São Paulo, he gave me a call. Seems he’s looking for a team to do an extended magazine layout with print and online coverage.”
Holy shit. “That’s huge.” Even for Scarlett, a job like that would be a bold-faced, big fat shouty-caps headliner for her résumé.
Rafael’s laughter threaded over the phone line. “Precisely my feeling. He’d like to partner with my newspaper and you for the coverage. I told him I’d call to see if you and Eli would be interested, but—”
“Are you kidding me? Yes. God, yes!”
“Good. I will confess that he wanted a more experienced writer for the job, but I told him I didn’t know how negotiable you’d be.”
Scarlett’s gut panged, but her shoulders remained firm against the couch cushions. “Nonnegotiable. Eli and I are a team. Where he goes, I go.”
“I told Matteo I suspected as much,” Raff said with a smile in his voice. “At any rate, I’ll convey your availability to him, and we can plan from there. Of course, you and Eli will need to extend your travel dates as soon as you’re able.”
“Wait.” Scarlett’s brows tucked under the weight of the whaaaaa spinning through her brain. “Why would we need to change our travel plans just because we’re working with Matteo?”
Rafael paused. “I’m sorry. I should have been clearer. Matteo is looking for coverage of the entire festival.”
Okay, there was no way her ears were functioning properly. “But the festival lasts for a month. It spans every major city in the country.”
“Yes,” Raff agreed. “I know this will mean more research and travel, and obviously more of a time commitment, but I can assure you, you and Eli will be well compensated. This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
Scarlett pressed to standing, pacing the confines of Eli’s dollhouse-sized apartment. Rafael was right. A chance like this was rare enough for someone like her with established ties in the media world. For someone like Eli? Yeah, he’d have to dive in headfirst, but a job like this could catapult him right to the center of the journalism map.
They’d planned to go for the week. A month wasn’t that much different now that things were slowing down at Cross Creek. Anyway, they’d promised to be a team, the two of them together.
I don’t just want you, Eli. I want you and me . . . you and me . . .
She belonged with him.
“No, no. You’re right, Rafael. I’ll go ahead and change the travel itinerary right now. You can tell Matteo that Eli and I are in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Eli sat at the kitchen table in Cross Creek’s main house, completely and utterly poleaxed. Scarlett and Emerson had left a little while ago, and despite several hundred variations of “What the hell is going on?” from both of Eli’s brothers, their old man had simply sat at one of the four compass points of the farmhouse table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had gone otherwise untouched.
Eli had a sister. His father had been with another woman. Gotten her pregnant. Kept his daughter hidden from Eli and his brothers for twenty-three years.
How were they supposed to process this?
And more importantly, how the fuck were they supposed to recover as a family?
Finally, their old man spoke. “I have a lot to tell you boys, and most of it won’t be easy to hear. I reckon you’ll be angry. Hurt, even.” He paused for a slow breath. “All I ask is that you hear me out till I’ve said my piece.”
“Pop, seriously.” Owen took the lead, which under the circumstances wasn’t surprising. “What do you have to tell us that’s so urgent?”
“You three have a sister. That’s who was at the door a little while ago, and she may be stayin’ for a bit. Her name is Marley Rallston. She grew up in Chicago with her mother.”
Paralyzing silence ricocheted through the kitchen, and damn, Eli didn’t find the words any easier to process the second time around.
“A sister,” Hunter said slowly, as if their father had been speaking some long-dead language like Latin or ancient Sanskrit. “And she’s in this house. Right now. Upstairs.”
“Yes.”
Owen’s eyes flew wide, his shoulders smacking the ladder back of his chair as realization dropped his jaw. “Rallston. As in, Lorraine Rallston.”
“What?” Hunter asked. “That can’t be right. Miss Lorraine left Millhaven twenty-four years ago, just after Mom died. She . . .” The rest stopped short on a sharp breath out as his expression hardened with anger. “Oh my God. You had an affair with Miss Lorraine?”
“No.” Their father’s voice cracked across the table like thunder. “Let me make one thing real clear. I loved your mother. I love her still.” He lowered his chin. “But I wouldn’t wish watchin’ a loved one slip away on my worst enemy.”
The words sent twin pangs of sadness and confusion through Eli’s gut, and neither played nicel
y with the betrayal already filling the space. Christ, they had a sister, and she’d clearly been conceived not long after their mother had died.
How could there be a good explanation for this?
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Eli said, and his old man gave up a small nod before sending his gaze around the table.
“You all know your momma got sick in a blink. We were blindsided. Me, Miss Lorraine. Everyone. The docs back then didn’t know the sorts of things we know now, but even then, your mother knew. She knew she wouldn’t live.”
He stopped for a shaky inhale, and sweet Jesus, Eli wasn’t going to make it through this.
As rattled as his father seemed, he continued. “One night, toward the end, she got real lucid. Peaceful, even.”
“I remember that,” Owen said, prompting a spear of jealousy through Eli’s chest. “She wore that pretty white nightgown with the blue flowers on it, and we all ate ice cream in her hospital room. She even sang Eli to sleep.”
Sadness lined their old man’s face despite his faraway smile. “That was the night. After Addie Hitchcock took you boys home and put you to bed, your mother sat me and Lorraine down. She made us promise we wouldn’t fret after she was gone. She said . . .” His voice tripped, and he cleared his throat before starting again. “She said she didn’t want either of our hearts to go to waste. Told us we’d need to be there for each other. And then she was gone, and I was alone raisin’ the three of you, and . . .”
“You were lonely,” Hunter said. “I remember you sitting down here by the fireplace at night, in the dark. You tried to hide it from us, but you were lonely.”
“I was a lot of things,” he agreed quietly, dropping his gaze to where he’d folded his hands over the table in front of him. “And I missed your mother so much. I didn’t intend for anything to happen with Lorraine, but it did.”
At that, Eli’s pulse tripped, and his brothers looked equally unhappy. The tension in the room thickened further as their old man added, “When she told me she was pregnant, I wanted to do right by her. I asked her to marry me so we could raise the baby together.”
Crossing the Line (The Cross Creek Series Book 2) Page 30
