Blue Hollow Falls

by Donna Kauffman

  She was looking quite perturbed now. “Explain what?”

  It was their turn at the food truck, and he could all but feel Sunny vibrating next to him, waiting for his response. He placed his order for himself, Bailey, and Addie, then turned to her. “My treat. What would you like?”

  “What? Oh, uh . . .” She turned to stare at the menu.

  Now it was his turn to feel a little . . . vibration. She’d been staring at him like . . . well, like she wanted to take a bite out of him. Maybe not in a good way, but . . . to be honest, it sure hadn’t felt entirely like the bad way, either. In fact, he really wasn’t sure what the electricity that seemed to hum between them was all about. He’d chalked it up to the simmering tensions about their shared inheritance. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  She gave her order and they shuffled to the side a bit while they waited, allowing the next person in line to order.

  “What didn’t Addie explain?” she said, enunciating very clearly.

  Oddly, her sudden intensity, the blazing directness in those honey gold eyes of hers, only served to ramp up that simmering . . . something. And definitely not in a bad way. Ratchet it down a few notches there, big guy.

  “We’re not related by blood, Sunny. At least, I’m not. To any of you. Doyle adopted me.” He lifted his hands. “I don’t know why me and not the kids he actually fathered, but—”

  “You said Addie took you in,” Sunny said. “I’d assumed that was because Doyle didn’t stick around, but now I remember you telling Bailey that Addie brought you to Blue Hollow Falls.” She lifted her hands, then let them drop. “I’m confused.”

  “She did. And yes, Doyle Hartwell wasn’t exactly the type to stick around, which he didn’t in my case, either. I think that’s why Addie harassed him about making it legal. She was trying to protect me. I’m sure if she’d known about either of you two, she’d have done the same.”

  “So, how did you end up there? How did she find you?”

  “My mother was one of Doyle’s . . .”

  Sunny waved her hand as he paused. “Got it. Go on.”

  “She was living with someone else when I was born. That didn’t work out too well. It turned out not to be all that unusual a situation where she was concerned. We moved around. A lot. She wasn’t particularly maternal, so there wasn’t much supervision for me.”

  “You were a little kid,” Sunny said. “I mean, if you came to Addie at age nine, then—”

  “I’m not saying I recall the early, early years as a baby or toddler, of course, but from the age of five until when Addie came and got me . . . yeah, I do remember a good part of those years. I can’t assume it was any different really, before that.”

  “So, how did Addie get involved?”

  “My mother finally hooked up with a guy who could support her in the lifestyle she wanted, but he didn’t want to be saddled with a kid. So she contacted Doyle, told him I was his kid and he could either come and get me or she’d hire an attorney and sue for child support and joint custody. I don’t know how Doyle would have responded to that, but Addie somehow found out and she came and got me.”

  “Weren’t they divorced by then?”

  Sawyer nodded. “They’d been divorced a good while at that point, but Addie and Doyle, despite everything, were connected for life in many ways. She was the only one who really knew him, seeing as they’d grown up together. She was younger than him, but—”

  “No, I get it. First love and all that.”

  Sawyer nodded. “Of course, he was gone far more than he was ever around, but he’d communicate with her from time to time, usually when he was experiencing a low point and needed to confide in someone. He came home to the Hollow on occasion, but less and less the older he got. He hadn’t come at all from the time I entered middle school until I enlisted, but I know he stopped by a few times while I was gone.”

  “But you’re sure you weren’t his?”

  Sawyer nodded. “We’re sure. Apparently, Doyle told Addie about my mom’s threat, so she came to check things out and, apparently once she saw the situation, she didn’t ask too many questions. She just got me out of there. Doyle tried to throw money at the problem, but Addie pressed him to do the right thing, which I’m sure he did mostly to quiet her on the matter.” He looked at Sunny. “I don’t think Addie knew about you, or she’d probably have made some contact on his behalf. And that was way before Bailey.”

  Sunny waved that off. “My mother had no contact with him after I was born, or I’m sure I’d have either heard about it or read about it in her journals later. She considered him this kind of avenging angel who intervened in her life, then left it just as abruptly, after bestowing on her the gift of me. And, mercifully, our house. She really didn’t want or expect anything more. She didn’t love him and didn’t want or expect him to love her. In her mind, the two of us were like this divine tribe of two.” She fluttered a hand, as if at a loss to explain it. “My mother wasn’t . . .” She paused, then smiled, a little sadly, but also affectionately. “She wasn’t like anyone you’d ever meet. She didn’t see the world in any kind of way that you’d call normal. When I asked who my father was, I got the divine angel story, and that was it. She never spoke of him, and really didn’t like me asking about it. I thought I’d find out who he was in her journals, and Doyle was in there, but he was so much older than she was, my adolescent brain thought he couldn’t possibly be my father, and . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I stopped caring about it when I got older, because, frankly, it didn’t matter.”

  “I guess I felt the same about him. I never thought of him as a father. Addie was my family. And Lord knows, I made it hard enough on her. I was pretty much angry at the whole world back then. Thank God she’s so damn stubborn and stuck by me, or who the hell knows where I’d have ended up.”

  Sunny smiled. “You’re lucky, then. And I guess Bailey is now, too. I’m glad to hear that. So, how did you come to know your mother lied about Doyle’s paternity? Did he demand a paternity test or something?”

  Sawyer shook his head. “No. He pretty much let Addie have her way about most things as long as he didn’t have to do anything personally other than write a check or sign a document. He was too busy living life, seeing the world, whatever it was he was off doing. Living off his family’s money, what there was left of it.”

  “So, how did you find out?”

  “Addie had been suspicious all along, so she hired a guy to investigate my mother’s past and eventually figured out what state and county I was born in, dug up my birth certificate. Doyle’s name wasn’t on it. Some other guy’s name was listed. At that point, Doyle had already legally adopted me, but Addie had a paternity test run anyway, because she couldn’t know for sure that my mother hadn’t lied about the paternity on the birth certificate, too.” He shrugged. “She actually tracked my father down, but he’d died years before in a motorcycle accident. There was nothing to suggest he ever knew about me. I guess we’ll never know that part for sure, but I’m definitely not Doyle’s. Our best guess is that my mother apparently tagged Doyle when her new boyfriend put the pressure on because she knew he had money, knew how he was about fixing problems. I guess it hadn’t occurred to her to do that sooner, or she probably would have.”

  “That’s . . . God, Sawyer, that’s awful. On all sides.” She touched his arm, then immediately dropped her hand. “I’m so sorry. So, did Doyle know? About you not being his?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if Addie told him. He was my legal parent, but Addie was my actual family, in all ways that mattered. He wasn’t around, so I don’t guess it mattered all that much to him one way or the other.”

  “Didn’t Doyle support you? Or her? Financially, I mean? They weren’t married anymore, but she did take you in, so—”

  He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what arrangement they had between them. She doesn’t talk about Doyle, especially their married life. What she told you in the mill that day was the most I e
ver heard her say on the subject. And to be fair, though I know she stuck by me and we eventually became family to each other, I wasn’t like Bailey. I was what they called a problem child. I counted myself lucky that I wasn’t on the street.”

  Sunny gaped. “You can’t honestly think that made it okay for your own mother to abandon you? And your father—at least he thought he was your father—to do more of the same? I mean, he knew Addie was taking care of you, but still. How much of a problem could you have been at—you said you were, what, nine when you came to Blue Hollow Falls?”

  He just smiled. “I think the term holy terror would have been understating the case. Even at nine.”

  Her lips twitched a little. “That bad, huh?” She shook her head, then grew serious. “Well, with what you said about your mother’s lack of parenting skills, and the uneven life you’d led to that point, you could be forgiven a lot. I mean—”

  “Maybe. But you didn’t go that route. To hear Addie tell it, you took care of your mama since you were little. You didn’t become rebellious; you knuckled down and got it done.”

  Sunny looked down, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

  “And Bailey, whose mother didn’t even bother to find her a home first, just dumped her straight into the system and took off. And despite that, Bailey’s been the model foster kid,” he went on. “Not me.”

  Sunny looked up. She ignored the parts about her and Bailey, and said, “So, what turned it around for you? I mean, you’re a war hero. To hear Addie tell it,” she added with a short smile, when it was his turn to be uncomfortable.

  “Addie likes her stories.”

  “So, the story about how you got the nickname Sergeant Angel isn’t true?”

  “When did you hear that? You took off right after we all met up for the first time. Addie said she hasn’t seen hide nor hair of you since.”

  Sunny’s cheeks turned a very becoming shade of pink, which he found himself enjoying more than he should. He bent down to catch her eye when she dipped her chin, and saw the guilt all over her face. His own face split into a wide grin. “Not so blasé about your new kin after all, huh? You Googled us, didn’t you?”

  She lifted her gaze then, tried for defiant, or at least dismissive. Failed miserably on both counts. To her credit, she laughed with him. “Guilty as charged, sir,” she said, echoing his earlier words, even raising her right hand. “And I never said I wasn’t curious. I just . . . wasn’t sure what I was. I don’t think it was all that unusual to do my own bit of research, see what more there might be to the story.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “Not much. Nothing about Bailey. I found Addie’s Web site.” Her expression shifted then to one of sincere awe. “You’re right, she is an amazing weaver. A real artisan. I was truly stunned by the beauty of her work. I had no idea.”

  “She talks a great game about everything and everyone else, but it’s funny, she’s not one to boast about her own talent.”

  “I looked up the guild she mentioned, too. Pretty cool, actually. You have some seriously talented folks there in the Hollow.” She looked at him directly. “I think it’s great, what you’re doing with the old mill. On a bunch of different levels. It respects the history of the town, and helps launch Blue Hollow Falls in a new direction, all at the same time.”

  “Hold up, rewind,” he said, not responding to her compliments. “Back to that research part. What exactly did you dig up about me?”

  She merely gave him a rueful smile. “I can see why you were the youngest master sergeant ever, or something like that I think I read. You like ordering people around.”

  “I like keeping order. Call it childhood PTSD. Once I figured out that being on top of and ahead of things was far better than being behind and under things, I’ve worked hard to keep things on track and moving as smoothly as possible.”

  “Hence today’s road trip.”

  “Hence the road trip,” he agreed.

  They were called over to the food truck for their order, and he realized they’d moved several yards away as the intensity of their conversation had increased. Sunny looked relieved to have an excuse to keep him from continuing to question her further, but the more he talked with her, got to know her, the more he wanted to know. In addition to being smart, sharp, and unafraid to say what was on her mind, she was also a little shy about some things, and far easier to make blush than he’d have guessed. There were some deeper vulnerabilities in there, too, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to poke and prod a bit, find out what other layers there were underneath that all-business, no-nonsense exterior.

  He was interested and not a little turned on. And maybe it was because he did, in fact, like to run things, or maybe it was because she brought back a bit of that rebelliousness inside him that he’d been unable to control in his youth, but the Pandora’s box question they’d both left alone was too tempting. He heard himself give voice to it before he could think better. “So, you thought I was your blood brother.”

  She’d taken a few steps toward the food truck, but paused and looked back at him, her expression guarded now. “An honest mistake, don’t you think?”

  He nodded. “I guess I thought you’d be relieved to hear we weren’t actually related.”

  Now she definitely stiffened. He did, too, but not in the same way.

  “Is it wrong for me to be relieved that I might have a little less responsibility to this supposed family dynamic I’ve been thrust into?”

  He stepped closer, and saw the ways her pupils expanded. Yeah, when she’d looked like she wanted to take a bite out of him back there, kind of the same way she was looking at him right now, it definitely wasn’t in a bad way. He’d stake his life on it. And he might be about to do just that. “Would it make you uncomfortable if I said I noticed you looked relieved in a way that had nothing to do with being responsible for anything? In fact, maybe the relief was specifically about the fact that you’ve been wanting to be a little . . . irresponsible?”

  To her credit and his absolute pleasure, she locked her shoulders in a hard square and her expression went granite smooth. “Trust me when I say that I am never irresponsible. I wish I had that luxury. As you said, I wasn’t as unaffected by finding out I had a family as I made it seem. But—”

  She broke off abruptly when he walked up to her, stopping just shy of being in her personal space, but close enough that she had to tip her chin up to maintain steady eye contact. Which she did. Defiantly so. Oh, the lady doth protest far too much. And on confirming that truth, any chance he had to rein himself back in vanished on the spot. The smile slid slowly across his face, deepening to a grin when he noticed her throat work. “If I told you I’m relieved, too, and it has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with being unaffected . . . in fact, one might say, for the exact opposite reason . . .” He shifted to keep their gazes locked when she would have looked away. “Would that make it easier to admit?”

  She lifted her chin higher, holding his gaze of her own will now. “Easier to admit what?” she asked boldly.

  He reached up, caught another stray hair being buffeted around by the breeze, and wrapped it around the end of one finger before carefully tucking it behind her ear. His fingertips barely brushed the side of her neck as he let it go, but even that hint of a caress was like striking match to tinder, and the fire leapt straight into his belly. He knew the exact moment she realized that, as she was staring as intently into his eyes as he was into hers. Her pupils sprang wider still, absorbing almost all those golden iris rings. The pulse in her temple flickered, and her nostrils might have flared slightly—her reaction to him was that palpable. He was quite certain she was seeing every bit of the very same in him. Had he done what he wanted to do and tugged her up against his chest, she’d have had a whole lot more proof of the effect knowing they could do anything they damn well pleased with each other was having on him.

  “Easier to admit that we wouldn�
��t be breaking any laws of nature if we went with our instincts.”

  She stepped back then, turned away, and walked stiffly over to the food truck, where she scooped up the cardboard box holding their order.

  What in the hell are you doing, Hartwell?

  But rather than feel even an ounce of regret, he found himself grinning as he followed her back to the conservatory. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so damn good. He watched her stiff spine and the sway of her narrow hips with an entirely different set of thoughts running through his head than the ones that had been brewing there when he’d left the Hollow that morning. At least as they pertained to one Miss Sunshine Meadow Aquarius Morrison Goodwin.

  Maybe the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Maybe a person never really stopped being who they truly were, down deep inside. Maybe the best a man could hope for was to find a way to control the more troublesome parts. Or maybe it was simply the environment dragging him back. Part of him, anyway.

  Because there he was, not back in Blue Hollow Falls for more than a minute, and already he was back to doing what he always did.

  Rousing a little rabble. Making a bit of trouble. Raising a lot of hell.

  And where Sunny Goodwin was concerned, damned if he didn’t mind that at all, not one little bit.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunny reminded herself she was merely doing what Addie Pearl and Sawyer had suggested she do. After all, it would be foolish not to make sure she’d legally covered herself. She was being wise. Mature.

  She’d been telling herself some variation of that explanation since she’d left Old Town early that morning. Never mind she could have simply mailed the documents to Addie or Sawyer. She didn’t have to hand them over personally.

  She’d made an appointment with the estate lawyer the day after the surprise visit from the Blue Hollow Falls contingent. She’d done so mostly because it was the smart thing to do, but also, admittedly, because it had given her something to do during her non-work hours to keep her mind from incessantly replaying the last thing Sawyer had said to her by the food truck.