It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel)

by Tamra Baumann

  “Really?” Mrs. Anderson laughed. “I think you’re forgetting that just because you run all the Anderson business in town doesn’t mean you own it. I still do! You dare cut me off, and I’ll give every last thing to a damned Grant when I die!”

  Low murmurs arose from the crowd of now twenty people.

  “You’d never give the town to a Grant.” The mayor’s jaw clenched. “You’re bluffing.”

  Mrs. Anderson shrugged. “Cut me off and you’ll see, now won’t you?”

  Maybe that’s really why Mrs. Anderson wanted to help them look? To protect them from the mayor in case they got caught. Ruth had a much bigger heart than she let on.

  As Ruth and the mayor stood toe-to-toe, arms crossed and staring daggers into each other’s eyes, she said, “Keep digging, you two.”

  They picked up the shovels and got back to work. Six more inches or so and they’d know if they’d chosen the right spot. If they hadn’t, Tara didn’t have high hopes they’d be able to do any more digging in Town Square. The mayor would find a way to stop it. It was probably their last hope.

  When Eric’s shovel hit something solid, he yelped. “I think I found it!”

  Using their hands, they brushed the dirt away from an old Army footlocker. Once it was mostly exposed, Tara grabbed a handle on the end and tugged so hard she ended up on her rear end on the grass with the box in front of her.

  “Since the box was found on town property, I’ll just be taking that from you now.” The mayor reached for the box.

  Tara shook her head and held on tighter. “Your uncle’s note said whoever finds it can have it. This box and whatever is inside belongs to Eric. That was our deal, right, Ruth?”

  “That’s right, Mitchell.” Ruth turned to the people watching. “And you all just witnessed that Eric was the one who found the box, right?”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  The mayor grumbled under his breath but backed off, so Tara placed the box back on the grass, her heart pumping with excitement to see what was inside.

  Eric reached out to open it, but stopped. “It’s locked.” A rusty padlock dangled from the clasp that held the lid closed.

  Zeke knelt beside them. “Let’s take this back to my shop, and I’ll cut that old lock right off.”

  Eric looked at Tara for confirmation, probably not trusting that one of them wouldn’t run off with his box. “Good idea, Zeke. Eric, you take one side and I’ll take the other.”

  She and Eric carried the box between them, leading the parade of people eager to see what was inside down the street to Zeke’s mechanical shop.

  Tara, Eric, and Mrs. Anderson stood behind Zeke as he lopped the padlock off the metal box. The mayor and the others stood outside the shop, waiting to see if the box held the promised contents.

  “There you go, Eric.” Zeke tossed the old padlock into the trash and stepped aside.

  Eric blew out a deep breath and whispered, “Please be in there.”

  Tara leaned over Eric’s shoulder as he lifted the lid. There were bundles inside wrapped in plastic wrap and packing tape. Must not have used Ziploc bags much back then.

  Eric handed her one of the packages. “You open this one and I’ll open the other.”

  “Okay.” She carefully peeled away the tape, then gently slid the papers out of the plastic. The typewritten pages were stapled together at the corner and the cover read, “Anderson Butte’s Finest Aged Whiskey.”

  She held up the pages so the people standing outside the shop could see. “Here’s the recipe!”

  A cheer rang out as the mayor pushed his way inside the shop. “Let me see that.”

  “Nope. It’s proprietary.” She pulled the recipe close to her chest. “And it belongs to Eric. He’s going into the whiskey-making business with my father.” She’d called her dad the night before and made all the arrangements in case they found the box. She wanted Eric to have a trustworthy adult to run the business for him until he turned eighteen, since she wasn’t going to be there to help him. Her father was looking forward to the challenge of replicating the old recipe.

  The mayor turned to his mother. “I’m calling my lawyer. Since that box was found on Anderson land, everything in it belongs to us and the town and you know it! Why are you helping them?”

  Tara said, “The whiskey will still benefit the town. My dad fell in love with Anderson Butte on his last visit and agreed to set up production right here. He’s prepared to share some of the profits he and Eric make by giving back to the community, just like Arthur wanted.” She smiled. “You don’t want to try to fight my dad in court—he’s got the best lawyers in the country on retainer. And he has the money to tie this up in the system for years.”

  “We’ll see about that.” The mayor frowned and crossed his arms. “So is there a map in there too, Eric?”

  Eric had laid out his unwrapped pages on a nearby workbench. He and Ruth quietly studied them.

  Ruth said, “Yep. There’s a map here all right. But we’re certainly not going to show this to you. We’ll let you know soon enough if the barrels are still intact.”

  When the mayor started forward to have a look, Zeke stepped in his path to stop him. It was like the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz standing up to Goliath. “You heard the lady. I’m going to have to ask everyone to leave now until we can sort this out.”

  The people watching became so silent and still, only the chirping crickets outside could be heard as the mayor stared Zeke down.

  About a minute into their match of wills, Ryan’s voice called out, “You heard the man. Everyone move along.” All the onlookers started to leave, but the mayor still stood toe-to-toe with Zeke, refusing to budge. “You too, Dad.”

  Ryan’s father poked Zeke’s chest. “I won’t forget this.” He turned and left.

  Thank goodness for Ryan, or who knew what the mayor might have done.

  She hoped Ryan would stay and celebrate their find, but his eyes were filled with pain in the brief second he glanced at her before looking away and following his father out the door.

  She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to stay. She’d hurt him by deluding herself into thinking they could have a simple relationship. She deeply regretted what her actions had done to him. As much as she hated the thought of never seeing him again.

  Maybe she’d reserve a corner of her heart just for him. And on those lonely, cold, wintery nights, she’d allow herself to remember his smile and the way he made her laugh, if only for a few quiet moments before she fell asleep. It seemed a bleak way to live, but necessary going forward. She would not make the same mistake of allowing herself to care for a man the way she did for Ryan ever again.

  Zeke slid the big shop doors closed behind him with a solid clunk, so she joined the others at the workbench. “Can you tell where the barrels are?”

  Ruth said, “They’re in an old mine just outside of town. But this map was drawn long ago, and they’ve dug a few more since. We might have to do a little research before we can pinpoint which one. Even then, it might be too dangerous to go after the whiskey. Once the mines are closed, everyone knows it isn’t safe to go in one. It’s actually the perfect place to hide the barrels.”

  Tara studied the map. “Couldn’t we just ask Pete Grant to help us? I read he used to be in charge of all the mines.”

  Ruth laughed. “Pete and I go way back. There’s no way he’d help an Anderson if he had a choice. More likely he’d pretend to help and send us on a wild-goose chase, so he could find the whiskey himself.”

  Eric, still studying the map, said, “Why don’t we just go out there tomorrow morning? Maybe we’ll get lucky and find it. It shows exactly how far the mine is from the middle of town, which now we know is the bandstand.”

  Ruth said, “That was before they came in and straightened out the highway, though. It might be different now.�
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  It looked like Tara would be on her way to Alaska by the time they could start the hunt for the whiskey barrels. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we go scan all these pages for safekeeping? I’ll send a copy of everything to my dad. Then I’ll drive you guys home.”

  Ruth waved her hand. “I’ll leave the computer things to you two and walk myself home. See you all tomorrow?” Mrs. Anderson raised a brow as she stared at Tara.

  It’d be her last day of work tomorrow since she was closed on Fridays. But she only had one appointment first thing in the morning. “Yep. I’ll be at your house, say around nine o’clock?”

  Mrs. Anderson smiled. “Sounds good. Goodnight, you two.”

  “Night,” Tara and Eric called out in unison.

  With everything packed up to go, they headed for her house. As they walked up the hill, she glanced at Eric. How disappointed would he be in her when he woke up Saturday morning and thought she’d abandoned him? He’d lost his whole family and she couldn’t bear to let him think she’d ever run out on him on purpose. She loved him. “Eric, can you keep a really big secret?”

  He nodded. “I kept this one, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. But this one is even bigger. Do I have your word you won’t say anything to anyone, at least until Sunday?”

  “Okay.”

  She unlocked her front door and disabled the alarm. After she locked the door behind them she said, “You’ve been the best puppy walker, puppy sitter, and treasure hunter I’ve ever met. I’m so glad we were able to become friends. But I have a very bad ex-husband who wants to hurt me, so I have to hide from him. And that means I’m going to have to leave town, but I can’t tell anyone where I’m going.”

  Eric’s forehead creased. “But . . . I thought you were going to help me with the whiskey. We had a deal.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. That’s why I asked my dad to help you. My parents won’t even know where I am. The police said I have to leave everyone and everything behind if I want to stay safe.”

  Eric blinked back tears that sent a dagger to her heart. “So I can’t ever talk to you again? Ever?”

  “No.” She shook her head and drew him into a hug. “I’m really going to miss you. You’re a good kid and I know you’re going to turn out to be a great guy.” She leaned back and tilted his chin up with her hand. “And I know you’ll be the best vet ever, or whatever else you want to be. Your family would be so proud of you. And I know your new family is already proud of you. Meg, Josh, and Haley love you.”

  Eric wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her middle. “Can’t Ryan keep you safe so you can stay?”

  “He would if he could. But it’s not fair to put any of my friends or family in danger too.” Tara bit her lip to stop her tears. She needed to put on a brave face for Eric. “But will you do me a big favor? Will you let Ryan take Sherlock so he won’t be all alone after I leave?”

  “Okay.” Eric wiped away his tears on his T-shirt. “But are you sure you have—”

  She cut him off before he could ask her to stay, and before she fell completely apart. “Yes.” She forced a smile. “Now let’s get all this stuff e-mailed off to my dad so you two can get your new business started. You’ll like my dad, Eric. He’s a great guy.” And maybe working with Eric would give her dad what Sherlock would give Ryan—a small reminder of her now and then.

  They scanned all the documents in silence. Once they were done she said, “I’ll call my dad and let him know to look for this e-mail. Then I’ll run you home.”

  “’Kay.” The sadness in Eric’s voice pinched at her heart.

  He said, “Maybe we’ll find the barrels tomorrow. So you’ll know what happened to them before you have to go?”

  She forced a smile while reaching in her back pocket for her cell. “I doubt it, Eric. But maybe I’ll be able to keep up with things by reading the town webpage from afar. I just won’t be able to leave comments, but you and I will know I’ll see it.”

  Eric nodded and even managed a tight smile. “That’d be good. You’re just being nice by letting me have the whiskey anyway. You’re the one who found it.”

  Her back pocket was empty, so she reached for the other pocket. “It’s enough that I know the whiskey is in the right hands, not with some greedy adult.” When her other pocket came up short she said, “Can I borrow your cell? Mine must’ve fallen out when I was digging.” Wouldn’t matter all that much, she’d have to get a new one in a few days anyway.

  “You lent it to Zeke, remember? I think I saw your phone on the workbench by where we opened the box.” Eric handed over his phone.

  “Oh, that’s right. For the compass. In all the confusion, I forgot to get it back.” She’d run by the shop tomorrow first thing and get it.

  She dialed her dad’s number. When he answered, the sound of her father’s voice—one she might not hear for a long time to come, if ever again—constricted her throat. How was she going to live without all the people she loved?

  The next morning, Ryan loaded the last of Sarah’s boxes into the back of his truck and slammed the tailgate closed. She didn’t have nearly as much as he would’ve thought. Maybe she feared Ed would get angry with her for taking things? He’d ask her to be sure she got what she deserved.

  He had a huge knot in his stomach, dreading all the hours of small talk ahead. Sarah wasn’t like Tara, who seemed to get him talking without him even realizing it. Sarah was quiet like he was. He wished he’d thought to bring that list of surefire conversation starters he’d printed out for the helicopter ride with Tara.

  Winging it had never been his forte.

  He climbed up into the truck and started it. “Sure you have everything you need? If you’re worried about Ed—”

  “No.” Sarah shook her head. “It’s nothing like that. I don’t want reminders of my mistake, so I’m just taking the essentials.”

  “Okay.” Ryan pulled out of the drive and headed for the main highway.

  After about fifteen minutes of silence, Sarah finally broke it by saying, “So, pretty exciting about Eric finding the whiskey recipe, huh?”

  Dammit. Why hadn’t he thought to talk about that? It was so obvious. “Yep. Amazing that it was there the whole time.”

  Sarah smiled at him like she was waiting for him to expand on that, so he added, “And great that whiskey production might bring jobs to town.”

  “Yeah. It was nice of Tara to let Eric have the recipe.”

  The mention of Tara’s name sent a hot dagger to his heart. He hoped that would go away soon. “Yeah. It was.”

  He needed to change the subject. “So, do you have a job lined up?” Way to be clever and witty. It was a question her mother would ask her. He sucked large at this. He’d have to get better if he’d ever survive the dating scene in Denver.

  “My sister got me a receptionist job at the law office where she works. It’s just temporary, though, until the regular person comes back from maternity leave.”

  “Oh. Well, maybe they’ll keep you on after.”

  She just shrugged in response.

  The conversation well went dry once again.

  Another fifteen minutes passed while he scrambled through his mind trying to conjure one of the questions from that conversation list. Then he remembered Tara grabbing the paper from his hand and warning him not to ask that one question around her family. “So, what would you do if you found a hundred-dollar bill lying on the ground?”

  Sarah frowned at him. “Ryan, if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine with me. We don’t have to. I’m just happy to be with you.”

  Surefire conversation starters, his ass. In what world did those questions ever work? That was strike two. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk, I do. I just don’t . . .”

  “I know, Ryan.” She patted his arm. “You were never very good at comm
unication.”

  He’d been better with Tara than he’d been with anyone else. It hadn’t been hard at all to have normal conversations with her. What he wasn’t good at was expressing his feelings. Putting what he really felt on the line. His father had always said, “Real men don’t cry, get in touch with their damn feelings, or whine.” Was having that pounded into his head his whole childhood the reason he hadn’t been able to tell Tara he loved her? To end up a heartless man like his father would be the last thing he’d ever want.

  As he pondered, Sarah said, “Funny, here we are, all grown up now and yet not much has changed. You’re still quiet and broody, and I’m still shy around you.”

  Panic raced through him. What was he supposed to say to that? Was it a test? Dammit!

  “Maybe people can’t change?” He wanted to change, but then when he’d had the chance to tell Tara he loved her he ultimately couldn’t do it. Maybe the saying was true?

  She nodded as she nibbled on her bottom lip, like she always did when deep in thought.

  Did that mean he’d answered correctly? He’d forgotten how she used to do that. Throw little questions out there and wait. After he’d answer he could tell by the look on her face he’d usually given the wrong answer, but she never said anything.

  Tara never played those games. She wouldn’t agree, but sometimes she could be as direct as his grandmother. It was sorta cute.

  Sarah cocked her head. “What’s so funny?”

  Was he smiling? He hadn’t even realized it. “Nothing. It’s just . . . nothing.”

  “Well, one thing’s changed. It’s the way you look at Tara.” Sarah sighed. “You don’t look at me that way.”

  He scrambled for the right words. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings but he and Sarah weren’t going to end up together. Especially not after seeing how great things had been with Tara. “You and I have known each other since we were kids . . .”

  She laid a hand on his arm and squeezed. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. You and I will always be just friends. Good friends. But after Ed, I want a man who looks at me like you look at Tara.”