High-Stakes Inheritance

by Susan Sleeman

  Mia had no desire to laugh after what she’d just survived, not even if it was forced. As a counselor, she knew kids had the ability to recover faster from trauma than adults. Children could also appear to be fine but suffer tremendous emotional scars. She would make a point of telling Jessie’s parents about signs that indicated Jessie had a residual problem.

  “Do you know if anyone notified Jessie’s parents?” Mia asked.

  “Jessie’s mother died a year ago, but I’m sure someone called Reid, and he’ll be here soon.” Sally frowned and planted her stethoscope on Mia’s chest. “Deep breaths.”

  Feeling a kindred connection from the death of a mother, Mia studied Jessie more intently. Her shoulders drooped in defeat and her gaze skittered about as if fearing an attack from an unknown force.

  Today’s trauma coupled with the recent loss of her mother could plummet Jessie into a depression. Hopefully Reid parented Jessie better than Mia’s dad had her when her mother died, or the child could be destined for a rocky adolescence.

  Sally pulled her stethoscope free and tsked. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

  No. Not the hospital!

  Her father would be there.

  Mia sat up. “I’d rather not go, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Trust me. It’s necessary.” Sally’s somber tone left no room for argument. She summoned her partner on a radio then strapped a mask over Mia’s mouth.

  She inhaled the cool oxygen and tried to relax even as pain ripped into her side from the transfer to the gurney and trip into the ambulance. She offered a smile at Jessie sitting on a bench seat below a wall of equipment. Jessie’s eyes mirrored Mia’s emotions, and she returned the smile with an uneasy stare.

  After the EMTs secured the gurney and stepped to the end of the ambulance, Jessie jumped down and knelt near Mia’s head.

  “Don’t tell anyone I was in the barn,” Jessie whispered in Mia’s ear.

  Mia lifted her mask. “You weren’t supposed to be in there?”

  “No.” Jessie clasped her hands together and stared at them. “Since my mom died, everybody says I shouldn’t be alone so much. But I like to be alone so I can read.”

  Mia was thirteen when her own mother died in a car accident, but that first year after the accident, the constant ache never left her heart. Not to mention living the next five years with a father who blamed her for causing the crash that took her mother’s life.

  “Mia, will you promise not to tell?” Jessie tugged on Mia’s arm, bringing her back.

  Mia wanted to give this poor motherless child anything she asked for, but she couldn’t. “I don’t need to tell anyone, Jessie. They already know you were in the barn, or you wouldn’t be in here with me.”

  “I could say I came in to save you.”

  Mia’s counseling instincts shot into action. Jessie was hiding something. Her pained expression conveyed there was much more at stake than her father learning she’d been somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.

  “What’s this really about?” Mia clasped Jessie’s miniature hands.

  She shook them free, and her eyes took on a defiant tightness. “I’m sorry about the barn, okay? I didn’t do anything bad. I didn’t start the fire. I was just reading. Wally used to let me read in the barn whenever I wanted to.”

  “I don’t think the fire was your fault. It must have been an accident. Maybe electrical.”

  “Uh-uh. A man started it.”

  “What?”

  Jessie trembled. “A really big man drove a truck into the barn. He got out and poured something stinky on the hay. Then he threw matches on it. He said, ‘This ought to scare her.’ Then he laughed and left.” Her eyes scrunched as she rubbed her hands together. “Do you think he meant me? To scare me?”

  He didn’t mean Jessie. He meant Mia. This was what the letter warned her about. But who was this man? Had her father hired him? Or perhaps the letter wasn’t from her father after all?

  “Jessie,” Ryan called from the open doors. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”

  “Uncle Ryan.” Jessie’s voice held relief. She hopped up and moved slowly toward the back. “Honest, that’s what I saw. You’re not mad that I was in the barn?” She peered at Ryan until his face broke in a warm smile, and he beckoned her closer with his finger. She charged into his arms.

  Mia sat up, and her eyes connected with Ryan’s troubled expression. He pulled Jessie tighter and stared at Mia with the implication of Jessie’s words stamped on his face.

  The fire was no accident.

  Still dressed in his turnouts, Ryan sat on the bench running the length of the ambulance. Even with his boots firmly planted on the floor, he bounced on the seat from the rhythmic beat of the tires spinning over rough pavement. The space was tight, but Jessie had begged him to ride with her to the hospital. Dupree had succumbed to Jessie’s pleas and she’d moved things around to accommodate the four of them.

  Jessie rested on his lap, reclining back with her head crooked in his arm. He stroked her sooty hair. He’d do anything to distract her from the residual terror in her eyes. Her emotional state was tenuous at best.

  Then there was Mia.

  He raised his head and subtly checked her out. She’d closed her expressive eyes and breathed through the oxygen mask. He let his eyes linger on the uncharacteristically quiet woman. What a brave front she displayed for Jessie. She kept it together, but the creases in her forehead exposed her internal pain.

  The EMT said Mia should physically recover after a short course of oxygen. She was lucky. She’d lived when others died. He’d dragged her from a near death. From searing flames.

  He let out a shaky breath and raised his head.

  Thank you, Lord for sparing Mia’s life.

  But was she out of danger?

  Had the fire merely been the first of a chain of events that would escalate until she left Pinetree or was killed for staying? How could she refuse to seek Russ’s help, and forbid Ryan from doing so?

  Especially after Jessie confirmed the fire was an act of arson.

  He had to find a way to get Mia to talk to Russ before the danger he was certain lurked around the corner caught up with her.

  Mia felt the warmth of Ryan’s gaze, and she wanted to open her eyes to see what his face might reveal about his thoughts. But she wouldn’t look, couldn’t look, in case she saw the same horrified expression that had consumed his face when Jessie confirmed the fire was set on purpose. If she did, her fear would ratchet up to an unbearable level.

  A stranger wanted her gone.

  But who and why? The only logical explanation was that her father didn’t want to get his hands dirty so he hired the baldheaded guy to torch the barn.

  He was going to extreme lengths to get her to leave Pinetree, but as much as she was afraid of what might happen if she stayed, she wasn’t going home. She owed it to Uncle Wally—the only man who truly loved her—to fulfill his last wishes.

  Yes, she would stay in Logan Lake even though staying meant living near the man whose eyes were burrowing into her right now. Not just any man. Ryan. Her one-time protector. The man who made her feel safe again as he carried her securely from the barn. His strength almost let her believe he could make this horrible day go away. That she would be okay.

  His phone pealed, and she flashed open her eyes, catching his tender gaze fixed on her. She felt her cheeks flush and a warmth spread through her body.

  “It’s the ringtone for work, and I have to take the call.” He smiled wide revealing teeth that hadn’t needed any dental assistance to be perfect. He’d often used this cute little grin when she’d glanced up and caught appreciative looks from him in the past.

  As he pulled the phone free, she closed her eyes again. He may have saved her life, but he was still a man and like all men, he’d hurt her once. He’d do the same thing again if she gave him a chance.

  As Ryan had expected, caller ID identified Ian Davis, his assistant at Wild
erness Ways. Ryan was the director of the outdoor counseling program for wayward teens, and no matter the turmoil in his life, responsibility for the students dictated he answer.

  He clicked Talk. “Ian, what’s up?”

  “We have a problem.” Ian’s serious tone set Ryan on edge. “Paul just called. His mother slipped into a coma this morning, and he won’t make the first week of the program, if he comes at all.”

  Man. This was all Ryan needed. With the drop in funding, he’d already had to cut one staff member, and up the ratio of students to counselor. One less counselor and the kids had a better chance of ending up back in juvie than working through their issues, ultimately dooming this pilot program for juvenile offenders.

  Not wanting to increase the anxiety level cutting through the ambulance, Ryan fought to keep the turmoil out of his voice. “How’s Paul holding up?”

  “Says he’s okay, but you know, man. He’s hurting.”

  “Make sure he knows we’ll pray for him.”

  “Already done.” A breathy intake of air and long exhale followed the clipped words. “We have to figure out what to do. There’s no way we can function being down another counselor.”

  “You have any ideas?” Ryan asked.

  “One, but I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

  Ryan tucked the phone under his chin and used his free hand to massage a tight muscle in his neck. “Tell me about it. Doesn’t matter if I don’t like it.”

  “Okay, but hear me out before you shoot me down.” Ian paused as if he thought Ryan might object.

  Ryan would consider anything if it helped the kids. “Go on.”

  “The other day when we were talking about that Mia chick taking over Pinetree, you said she was a counselor. I know there’s some sort of history between the two of you, but you could ask her to fill in until Paul gets here.”

  Ryan let his free hand fall to the bench with a thud. His stomach sank along with it. He looked at Mia. He was all for making amends for the way he’d botched their breakup, but how could he handle her daily presence at work? Living with the constant reminder of his mistake.

  Easy answer—he couldn’t. “I don’t think—”

  “I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Ian said. “But you have to admit, it’s a good idea. She has no wilderness counseling experience, but she does work with teens. You can at least think about it, right?”

  “What about training? Our program is unique and she hasn’t participated in anything like it.”

  “We’ve got enough time before the students get here to bring her up to speed. Even without experience she’d be better for the students than no one.”

  Ian was right; Ryan had to think about what was best for the kids. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  “Don’t take too long. The kids get here in two days.”

  Ryan said goodbye and clicked off. He didn’t need a reminder of the looming deadline and the need to decide quickly.

  He stowed his cell, and let his focus return to Mia. Her appearance had changed since high school, but man, she was still a knockout. And that’s what the many lacerations and bruises dotting her body did to him. Sent knockout punches to his gut. She could have died in the barn if he hadn’t arrived when he did. He would never have had a chance to talk to her. Never had a chance to right the wrong he’d inflicted.

  He had to make things right with Mia—and the best way to get her to listen to him was to spend time with her. As a bonus, it gave him an excuse to keep her in his sight. To keep her from stepping recklessly into whatever danger loomed ahead.

  FOUR

  In the miniscule hospital bathroom, Mia moved her portable IV cart to the side and stepped up to the sink. Without a shower, she’d make little progress in fixing her appearance but she couldn’t spend the night without doing something. She’d hoped for a quick in and out in the ER, but due to continued low oxygen levels, the doctor opted to keep her overnight as a precaution.

  With stiff fingers, she scrubbed her face. The pore-clogging soot not removed by the nurse’s antiseptic clung to her skin. No matter the amount of scrubbing, the steaming hot cloth wouldn’t wipe away emotional trauma. As if she knew what to wipe away first. She had so many layers.

  Did she start with the memory of finding Jessie trapped in the barn and nearly losing her own life? Or the sappy way she’d reacted to Ryan? How about the fact that the fire wasn’t an accident? Or her father’s possible role in this disaster?

  She leaned closer to the mirror and gently dabbed around sutured lacerations on her cheek.

  Had her father really done this to her? As a teen he’d ignored her, blamed her for suggesting a ride in the country, and then distracting him while driving so he let the car slip off the shoulder and crash into a tree killing her mother on impact.

  But was he so cruel that he could hire a man to commit arson in an attempt to scare her away? And if he did, how was she going to prove it? No one in town would entertain the thought that the good doctor Thomas Blackburn moonlighted as a criminal.

  “Mia, you in there?” a male voice, deep and vaguely familiar, called from her room. “I need to talk to you.”

  She hated anyone to see her in this condition, but his urgent tone moved her to respond. “Be out in a minute.”

  She draped the cloth on the sink and finger combed her hair. Yuck. It would take several shampoos to eliminate the stench and caked-in ashes. She replaced the oxygen cannula in her nose and on the way out, freed the plastic tube stuck under the IV cart.

  Standing by the door, her visitor wore a khaki police uniform and kneaded his shoulder with narrow fingers. He studied her, taking in every detail as she eased into the room. His presence was intimidating, drawing the air from the room.

  Eyes fixed on her, he offered a stiff smile. “Don’t know how we’ll ever repay you for saving our little Jessie.”

  His Jessie?

  Mia checked his eyes. Oh, yeah. He was a Morgan. Even without the uniform, she’d know this was Ryan’s brother Russ.

  The tallest of the Morgan brothers, he was more powerfully built than she’d remembered. Coppery hair had grayed at the temples, but retained a bit of the Morgan curl at the nape. His eyes were clouded, maybe in reaction to nearly losing his niece.

  Trauma Mia knew all too well. Fire sizzling all around and no rescue in sight. She suppressed a shiver. “I don’t need any thanks for helping Jessie. I’m just glad I came along when I did.”

  “How about we sit?” He gestured at the pair of gray vinyl chairs by the window and issued a full smile, broadening an already wide jaw. The lines circling his eyes and folds along his nose—likely from the stress of a career in law enforcement—fell away, and the teenager she used to know bloomed in front of her.

  Not that seeing the teen who tormented her was a good thing. Still, she needed to know what he wanted with her.

  Lifting her oxygen lifeline over the bed, she navigated the tank toward the chair and sat.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you around here.” He perched a booted foot on the wooden edge of the other chair. “With the way you shot out of here after high school, I’m surprised you came back. Guess it’s hard to turn down the money you’ll get when you sell Pinetree.”

  Did he think she’d react to his cutting tone? Or his assumption that she’d sell Pinetree at the end of the year to capitalize on the valuable lakefront property? Snap judgments were common around here. Just another reason she’d stayed away. Still, she wouldn’t correct them. She knew in her heart she’d returned to Pinetree out of respect for her uncle’s last wishes. That was all that mattered.

  “If you’re trying to bait me like you used to, Russ, I’m not biting.”

  “I’m here to take your statement about the fire. Nothing more.”

  “Sounded more like you were interested in passing judgment on me. Something you were so good at doing in high school.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it, Mia.” His sharp glare dril
led into her eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s in the past.”

  “Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one wronged.”

  His eyes creased, and he ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Look—I’ll admit I was hard on you back then. I should have been more understanding, what with the loss of your mom and all. But when you and Ryan started dating and his grades took a nosedive, I had to make you see what you were doing to him.”

  “And you thought going behind my back and trying to break us up instead of talking to me was the right way to do that?”

  He shrugged. “Might’ve used the wrong method, but I had the right motive.”

  “As David’s friend I expected more from you. You knew how much losing our mother changed our lives.” She sent him a penetrating stare.

  “All I can say in my defense is at the time I thought you were totally out of control. Figured you’d soon be breaking the law.” He sighed. “I couldn’t let you take Ryan down with you.”

  Mia could appreciate Russ’s concern for his brother, but he had worried in vain. Ryan pushed her out of his life the day she learned of his unfaithfulness. “As it turns out, that wasn’t a problem, was it?”

  Russ cleared his throat. “What say we put all of this behind us and get on with your statement?”

  His offer to make amends was out of character for the guy she had known, but he could have changed. He could be one of the good guys now. She nodded, putting aside their past differences in honor of his profession.

  He pulled out a notepad and pen. “Okay, so I need you to tell me exactly what happened today.”

  She didn’t want to recount the fire. The searing flames. Suffocating smoke. Terrifying emotions. But she had to comply. She launched into the story, skipping the warning at the post office and replaying the rescue of Jessie with concise comments devoid of the emotions still tumbling through her body.

  “I’m sure by now you’ve heard Jessie saw a man start the fire.” Mental exhaustion over telling the story made her tone fall off at the end.