Love and Trust

by Jean Oram

  “Too far?” Okay, she was booking her sister into the psychiatric ward to have her brain checked. “He was trying to kidnap your daughter.”

  “I was not,” the man retorted.

  “Just leave it alone, Melanie,” Daphne said. “You don’t know everything.”

  Melanie stepped back, shaking her head. That was it, wasn’t it? She didn’t have a clue who her sister was any longer.

  * * *

  Back at the house, Melanie waited as Dot took Tigger to the backyard to play, probably sensing things were about to get crazy.

  “Why would you let him come around you?” Melanie asked Daphne, setting the picnic basket on the front steps.

  “He’s receptive to working together and he wants Tigger to be part of his life.”

  “Think about the timing on that,” Tristen snapped. His jaw was so tight Melanie thought his teeth were going to crack. “He is using you, Daphne. Never speak to him until this is over, you understand? Don’t let him be around Tigger alone. And if you do have to talk to him, make sure I’m present. And a lawyer. You got that?”

  Daphne glared at Tristen with an expression so vehement Melanie had to look away. How did a fine picnic turn so ugly so quickly?

  “I don’t appreciate the way the two of you are ganging up on me,” Daphne said. “I’m an adult and this is my life.”

  “Tristen is right, Daphne. Mistral is playing both sides. He’s taking advantage of your loving, forgiving and trusting nature.”

  “He wants to be a part of Tigger’s life. It’s not my right to deny that.”

  “His timing is rather convenient, as well as suspicious,” Tristen said gently. “I think a bodyguard would be a good idea.”

  Daphne unlocked the front door, calling Tigger to come around the house, effectively dismissing them.

  “I agree with Tristen,” Melanie said softly. “That was scary.”

  “You two can take off now,” Daphne said. “I don’t need this toxicity around me at the moment.”

  “I live here,” Melanie said.

  “I need some space to think, or I’m going to say something I’ll regret.”

  Melanie watched as her sister hurried her daughter into the house, the sound of the dead bolt snapping into place behind them.

  Kicked out? By Daphne? What alternative reality had Melanie landed in?

  “You can stay with us,” Tristen said, giving Melanie’s shoulder a squeeze. “She just needs time. She’s confused.”

  The three of them began walking the way they’d come, backtracking to get Tristen’s truck.

  “Do you think she’d mind if I had her tailed?” he asked eventually, taking Melanie’s hand. “That Evander fellow Connor’s mentioned could keep an eye on her.”

  “If she found out she’d be livid.”

  “I can handle her.”

  “I kind of want my family to like you, Tristen.”

  He cupped her chin, his expression serious. “And I kind of want your family to stay safe.”

  Warm and cozy. That’s how Melanie felt when she looked into his eyes. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “Ew. I’m walking ahead if you guys are going to be all yucky.” Dot positioned herself up front so she didn’t have to see them smooch.

  Melanie smiled and kissed Tristen lightly, careful not to lose herself in the process, which was so easy to do with him. Breaking away, she threaded her arm through his and began the process of catching up with his daughter.

  The tension that had gripped Tristen only moments ago wafted away.

  “How’s your hand?” Melanie asked, holding it up to take a look.

  “Sore. But worth it. That man…” Tristen’s face clouded over and his neck reddened, the tension returning.

  “I know.” Melanie swallowed hard. “There’s something happening that I don’t understand, and it freaks me out.” She sighed. So much to say, so few words to encompass it all.

  Tristen wrapped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “The worst part is he’s playing to her heart. She wants this. She wants a happy family.”

  “I just hope she doesn’t do something she regrets. She’s stopped listening, and I don’t trust Mistral one tiny little bit.”

  It was as if Daphne wanted Mistral back, when all he’d ever done was cause her pain. How many times had Melanie’s sister claimed that she didn’t need a man to help her raise Tigger, and that it was a blessing Mistral wasn’t involved? Had they just been words to cover up her true desire?

  Chills raced up Melanie’s spine and she snuggled closer to Tristen. When it came right down to it, she didn’t feel as though she knew her sister very well.

  “Can you give me a ride to my boat?” Melanie asked, as Tristen moved a few steps ahead to unlock the truck for Dot. “I want to go to Nymph Island.”

  “Alone?” Tristen was back at her side in an instant.

  “Unless you two wanted to come keep me company?”

  “You’re not going anywhere without us. Dot! We’re going to Melanie’s island.”

  While Melanie’s world might be turning upside down, at least she had Tristen by her side.

  * * *

  “This is getting scary.” Melanie stood beside Tristen on Nymph Island’s dock, staring at the charred hole in the trees where another cottage of Muskoka’s Heritage Row was missing. “What do you want to bet they burned it down themselves?”

  Tristen didn’t say a word, just clenched his jaw and kept an arm around her, squeezing a tad too tight.

  Rubicore wasn’t playing fair. Two of four heritage cottages gone. Just like that.

  “Looks like it’s time to fight fire with fire.” Dot laughed, plunking herself on the edge of the dock, feet in the water. “Can you believe the gall? Of course we’re going to investigate that.” She looked over her shoulder at her father. “Right, Dad?”

  “Definitely. I’ll call in some favors and get investigators in here before any evidence is gone.”

  Tristen began dialing someone and Melanie sat in a Muskoka chair, fingers against her lips, thinking. She inhaled the scents of warm wood, lake, pines, and a hint of wrongdoing that smelled a lot like the evil side of progress and the slaughter of what was real and meaningful.

  She pulled out her cell phone, checked for a signal, then called her big sister Hailey. “Hails? You back in town? You’re going to need to come photograph something for me.” She dialed another number. “Mrs. Star? Can you get on the phone—call everyone you know? Another cottage on Heritage Row was just destroyed. Fire this time. Owned by Rubicore, too.”

  Tristen, who was done with his call, gave her a warning look. Slander, yeah, yeah, yeah. She wasn’t saying anything, just providing information that could be put together however Mrs. Star felt inclined.

  Melanie made another call. “Austin? Yeah, Melanie here. I need you to stir up shit about Mistral Johnson, Aaron Bloomwood, his partner Mario, and any other Rubicore bigwigs you can find.”

  “Jim Hanna!” Dot interjected.

  “Jim Hanna. Yes. Anything. Photos would be good.”

  Another call. “Connor? Does that Evander guy do any bugging? Think he could bug Mr. Valos’s office? Perfect. Thanks.”

  Melanie punched in another call. “Rick? I don’t care who Rubicore is to the paper, I need you to find a way to get something into the press in Toronto—use a pseudonym if you need to—and reveal how the company owns Adaker as their own personal charity, but have been lying to their board members about the camp’s solvency. If you get in trouble, I’ll be your lawyer. By the way town council tomorrow—I think things might get interesting. You might want to be there.”

  She glanced at Tristen, who was still watching, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “One more call,” she told him. She dialed the last number. “Christophe? I have a mystery for you. Can you find out what charity my great-grandmother Ada and Stewart Baker started together and why? I have a feeling it is local.” She hung up the phone, staring across the water at Baby Hors
eshoe Island.

  “What was that last call about?” Tristen asked.

  Melanie turned to him, her mind still elsewhere. “Adaker. Sound like any names we know, fitted together?”

  A slow grin lit like fire and he pulled her close. “You are brilliant, Melanie. Absolutely brilliant.”

  She could see it all clearly now. The path she was supposed to—no, was destined to—take. She was finally where she was supposed to be. She’d never felt that connection to the world and her place in it before, but now she finally could.

  And it felt good. Powerful.

  Everything was unfolding as it should, even if Rubicore was still winning. It wouldn’t be long, though, until she had them where she wanted them.

  She just hoped she had enough time to make it happen before it all came crumbling down around her and her sisters. It was like the parachute game they used to play at Adaker, and she’d just lifted the round chute into the air, dived under and tucked it all around her. It would stay inflated before collapsing and protecting her inside. But would there be enough time before it sank, trapping her?

  Tristen weaved his fingers through hers as Dot wandered up to the cottage to see if there were any good snacks there. His chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath, and Melanie placed her free hand against it.

  “I love you, Melanie.” He looked so solemn and so much like a small boy afraid of being rejected that she gently took his chin in her grasp, wanting to see every emotion running through his eyes.

  “Thank you for telling me. I know it isn’t your style to express yourself in words.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not very good at this. And while I know you like me, too, I hope you feel the same. The same depth. Maybe not today, but someday.”

  Melanie laughed, tipping her forehead to touch his. “Tristen Bell, you silly man.”

  “What?”

  “I love you, too, and have for some time.” Tears filled her eyes suddenly and trailed down her cheeks. With his thumbs he brushed them dry.

  “I am very glad to hear that.” His shoulders relaxed and he let out a long, slow breath.

  “I feel less alone when you are around,” Melanie sniffed. “It sounds corny, because of course I am less alone, but I mean in my heart.”

  It was as though Tristen saw that broken part inside that she’d been trying to heal for years. That dark corner she wanted to finally squash so she could fill it with light. But Tristen was already there, doing it for her.

  “I feel connected when you are around,” she said. “Like there is someone with me and that it will all be okay. It’s not like that when I’m with others. I still felt lost and like the odd one out. With you, I feel…love. Trust. Beautiful, even. Everything good.”

  She leaned against him, loving the way he enveloped her in his arms, pressing his lips firmly to her temple. He was protecting her from the world, telling her in his own way that it would all be okay.

  CHAPTER 15

  Melanie was red in the face, pounding her fist on the table in the council meeting, and Tristen couldn’t help but feel turned on.

  Last night they’d spent the night on Nymph Island, Dot tucked away in the cottage’s loft, as he and Melanie had wrapped each other in love.

  It made it difficult to pay attention to anything but her now. The way Melanie was revved up, her butt wiggling in her dress pants as she laid into the council for not following protocol and posting permit applications in a public place. For failing to have an official open house regarding the proposed resort, and other such business. This was on top of her presentation against Rubicore—which was very thorough and convincing. The council was getting a dressing down from his gal, Mel. Nothing could be sexier to witness, and Tristen had the best seat in the house.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder with a wink, then beckoned a man wearing a snazzy suit to hand out sheets of paper to the row of men seated before her.

  “Consider yourselves subpoenaed for breach of regulations,” the man said coolly.

  Tristen sat up. Whoa. That was not part of the plan. Is this what she had been doing at the crack of dawn when he’d gone looking for her after finding her side of the bed vacant?

  The subpoenas were being delivered to the council, as well as several Rubicore administrators who were seated in the audience.

  Hadn’t Melanie agreed they were going to let agencies take care of Rubicore and the municipality? As a first-year lawyer one didn’t take on the big guns, who had a herd of lawyers bred for going in for the kill.

  The men at the table stared, faces aghast and open with fear. Members of the press, who had been lounging against the wall, stood straight, alert, cameras clicking.

  She had them.

  Was this all a ploy? A tactic to get them to comply? But no, then she would have only threatened. Did she not understand what she was up against? She’d just sent a very large boulder in motion and down a very steep hill. He only hoped she wouldn’t be the one to get crushed.

  Tristen moved to the back of the room so he could secretly use his cell phone, which wasn’t technically allowed in chambers. He needed Connor to get that Evander guy on both women. Now. No more thinking about it. It was go time. Especially since Daphne still wasn’t talking to Melanie, who had just pitched a flaming barrel of oil over Rubicore’s fence.

  If Evander was half as good as a bodyguard as Connor said, then the man could at least tail Daphne while keeping her safe. And if the man had a brother, Tristen would hire him to sit on Melanie’s tail. She wouldn’t like it, but there was no way she was arguing with him on this one. Nothing was going to happen to his gal, and her risk factor had just multiplied like fruit flies near overripe bananas.

  Tristen blinked, focusing on the men lining the back of the room. He took in their black leathers. Their headbands and gnarly beards. Arms crossed over their barrel chests. Scars and tattoos.

  Holy hell. What were the Hells Angels doing here? Were they on Melanie’s side? He watched as they gave brief, approving smiles when she sass-talked a Rubicore man. Maybe she wasn’t as vulnerable as Tristen had thought. Maybe she really did have this all tied up. But why hadn’t she told him she was going to drop-kick Rubicore’s baby?

  Because he would have tied her up at home until she saw sense. That’s why. Smart woman. She’d warned him she’d do it his way, and if she had time, also do it her way. Looked as though he needed to keep her busier.

  He sat beside Gnarly Beard, hoping he hadn’t come off as too big of a prissy prick during their prior meetings, and that the biker would agree to a favor in Melanie’s honor. Tristen needed as many people as he could round up to cover her sweetly shaped butt.

  “Can you keep her safe?” he asked Ezra.

  The biker narrowed his eyes as if trying to read him.

  “Can you?” Tristen repeated. He knew he looked scared, but he didn’t care. “She can’t do this alone. I’m helping her, and I’ll do whatever I have to do. But I only know the business side. I need to have someone keep her physically safe. Can you help?”

  Without a word, the man gave a tiny nod, then turned back to listen to Melanie give the corporate scum dogs hell.

  * * *

  “I think you definitely found your place, Melanie.” Tristen shook his head and pressed a kiss against her temple, leaning against his old truck. “This has certainly cranked the heat under Rubicore.”

  They were so screwed, but he’d promised to back her and he would. This time he wasn’t going anywhere. He would use every last resource at his disposal to help keep her safe—to ensure she was the one who came out on top in this battle.

  He’d beaten Rubicore before and together they’d do it again.

  Several men in black leather loitered nearby, chatting as they leaned against the parking lot’s brick wall. Watching. Waiting. Listening. They has his woman’s back.

  Melanie was vibrating from taking on chambers, and he ran his hands up and down her arms. There was no way he was letting her get back
on her motorbike in the state she was in. She’d drive right off the road and into the towering pines surrounding this part of town before she got more than a block or two away.

  “You know what Valos means in Finnish?” she asked.

  “You know Finnish?”

  “It means cast. He’s empty. That man could be filled with anything and right now he’s filled with deceit and lies and everything that is wrong with this world.”

  She was punctuating her sentences with pokes to Tristen’s chest. He wrapped a hand around hers, stilling the jabbing finger.

  “It’s going to be okay. You’ll get him. You just turned it all upside down and gave it a shake. I’d be surprised if any of those goofs are still in politics six months from today, or that Rubicore is still in business. You’re making a name for yourself and standing up for what you feel is right, despite the odds. I admire that. Not everyone can do it.”

  She let out a shaky laugh and he gave her a hug, feeling incredibly proud.

  “It’s called being insecure,” she said. “You think about others and what they are thinking and needing so you don’t have to think about yourself.”

  “I don’t believe that’s the reason. Besides, you seem pretty confident and secure to me.”

  “It’s an act.” Her voice was shaky, her cheeks flushed.

  “Well, there’s no reason to act that way, Little Miss Dynamo. Not that you need taking care of, but I’ll spend the rest of my days doing so, if you’ll let me. And I’ll show you in every way I can that you are important to me. Do you understand that? No matter what happens with Rubicore, the council, and the press. Okay?”

  She snuggled her head against his chest. “I know you care. I care about you, too.”

  “I know your mind is still in chambers, but I need you to hear this, Mel. Sometimes I have trouble expressing myself, and I need you to talk to me, even when things get hairy and I go a little berserk after attackers.”

  She glanced up, her eyes worried. “What do you mean?”

  “I need you…” He had to pause to collect himself, since his heart was racing. “…to not run away or kick me out. If you don’t feel loved, then tell me, okay? And I’ll try to do better.”