Black Ember

by Ruby Laska

  The keys were still in the ignition. Caryn turned them and rolled down the window.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she mumbled quietly.

  “I’ve got coffee on,” said the man who was her father. “How ’bout coming in for a cup?”

  #

  The inside of the snug log house was every bit as welcoming as the outside. Big, sturdy leather sofas were anchored by a Navajo rug in front of a huge stone fireplace. Copper pots hung from a rack over the kitchen island. A mason jar held wildflowers on the scrubbed pine table.

  And on every surface were photos: of the girl, Melanie, who had accompanied Buddy to the wedding. Of a younger version of Buddy, in uniform, posing with other servicemen in Iraq.

  And of Caryn.

  There were pictures of her at every age: school pictures with her hair pulled tightly into pigtails; her high school graduation picture in her cap and gown. The photo that ran with her byline on the column she wrote for her college newspaper. And several photos taken in the years since she had started her own business, photos that had appeared in newspapers and magazines across the country.

  “I…had no idea,” Caryn said, her eyes misting as she looked at the pictures on the wall, stuck to the fridge, in frames on tables.

  “Yes, I guess you could say I have quite a collection.” Buddy seemed every bit as nervous as she felt as he busied himself with pouring two ceramic mugs full of steaming coffee. “That was one of the things your mom agreed to, sending me your school picture every year.”

  “She never told me.”

  “Aw, now, Caryn, don’t be too hard on Georgia. She was just doing what she thought was right. I was a pretty irresponsible guy back then.”

  He handed her a mug, the coffee lightened with heavy cream, and she took a sip, savoring the warmth and the delicious taste. “Thank you.”

  “Here, why don’t we sit out on the porch. Melanie’s a good sleeper, but this way we won’t worry about waking her up.”

  They carried their mugs outside and took seats in the pair of rocking chairs. In front of the house, the land sloped gently downward, revealing fields of wheat that stretched out for miles. Far in the distance, Caryn could make out a rig, its steady rhythm bringing up oil from the earth.

  “Is it okay if I ask…how you came to know Melanie? Is she your daughter?”

  “You can ask me anything you want, Caryn. I figure if you came all this way, the least I can give you is answers. And no, Melanie isn’t my daughter. But her parents gave up their rights to her when she was just a baby, and she went into the state system. That was years ago—she’ll be nineteen in September. She lives at a facility in town, a real nice place. They’ve got some good folks looking out for her. But she didn’t have anyone special that showed up regular in her life, until…” he shrugged, not finishing his sentence.

  “Until you came along?” Caryn guessed. “You volunteer there?”

  “Well, that’s how it started, anyway. Fact is, after a few years I decided I wanted it to be a little more than that. Not sure that it would have made a whole lot of difference to Mel, but we went through the whole process. Got me a lawyer, had to jump through a lot of hoops—got to give the state credit, they didn’t want just anyone coming around vulnerable young people. But it’s looking good.” He looked down shyly. “She, um, started calling me Dad last year. My lawyer thinks the adoption might go through by Christmas. She could be living here by next year.”

  Caryn couldn’t respond at first. A lump had formed in her throat, making it hard to speak. But Buddy seemed content to wait until she was ready, taking a pipe out of his pocket and fiddling with the bowl without lighting it.

  He seemed like such a nice man. And adopting a special needs child—that took character and commitment.

  So why hadn’t he stuck around to take care of his own child?

  It was amazing that the hurt from such a rejection could live on after all this time. So much water under the bridge; so many milestones had come and gone. Caryn had a mother who loved her fiercely and had sacrificed to give her a good life. She had not one but two perfectly good stepfathers who treated her kindly and welcomed her into their homes.

  And still, she felt the sting.

  “You’re wondering why I didn’t stick around,” Buddy said gently. “It’s a damn good question, and I don’t have a good answer for you. I mean, I can tell you why in a few words: too little sense, too much testosterone, and too much time with the bottle. Why else would a man leave a beautiful, accomplished woman like your mother?”

  Caryn looked up to see that his mouth was set in a grim line. “If I had a buck for every time I kicked myself, every time I wished for a do-over…but life doesn’t work that way. By the time you were a couple years old, I had a feeling I’d made a big mistake. By the time you were five, I knew exactly what kind of idiot I had turned out to be. But your mother was smarter than me even then. She knew that the last thing you needed was another disappointment. She refused to take a chance on me showing up, only to take off and break your heart. So we worked out our deal.”

  “What deal?” Caryn asked in amazement. “Mom always said that after you left her, she never heard from you again.”

  “That was part of the deal,” Buddy said ruefully. “She said if I ever tried to get back in your life, she’d shut down all communication with me forever. But if I respected her wishes and kept my distance, she promised to send me a letter every year with your school picture and an update of how you were turning out. And she kept up her end, too. Every year she’d send a list: what your favorite toys were, the names of your friends at school, your grades, what you asked the Lord for when you said your prayers at night. It was torture—and for a while I figured she was punishing me, because when she told me what you wanted from Santa, I wasn’t allowed to send it. I couldn’t do anything but stare at your picture and pray that you were a happy little girl.”

  “I—I can’t believe it,” Caryn said. “I mean, Mom’s headstrong. But still—I asked about you so many times, and she never let down her guard, never gave me the slightest clue that you cared about me.”

  “She did it for you, honey,” Buddy said sadly. “I sent her money, at first, whatever I could earn working overtime. But she told me she’d find someone who would be able to give you everything, and she kept her word. The minute she married Randall, she told me I could send my money to her charities instead.” Unexpectedly, Buddy chuckled. “I believe I’m the longest-standing patron of Camp Cottonwood.”

  Everything was falling into place. Georgia had started Camp Cottonwood nearly twenty years ago to provide inner-city children a summer camp experience in the Catskills.

  “Buddy…” Caryn said tentatively. “The whole reason I’m here, well, Mom told me a couple of weeks ago that you were dying. That you only had a few months to live, and she didn’t want me to have any regrets about not meeting you.”

  “Is that right?” Buddy said, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin. “Why, she can be a crafty one.”

  “You don’t seem mad. I mean, you’re not sick, are you?”

  “Fit as a fiddle, according to the doc,” Buddy said, patting his stomach. “I still do fifty pushups every morning, and Melanie and I do a lot of hiking.”

  “The thing is, the whole thing about regrets? I think Mom was talking about herself. That she didn’t want me to miss the chance to get to know you. I think she must feel kind of guilty, after all these years, that she lied to me about you.”

  “Well, now, I’m the last person to ever criticize anyone for second thoughts,” Buddy said. “I mean, that’s how I ended up with Melanie. If I hadn’t been such a screw-up, I might never have tried to make up for what I’d done on such a big scale. I just never realized that when I started volunteering with kids to make up for being such a rotten parent, I would be the one who would be rewarded.”

  They sipped their coffee in companionable silence.

  Soon, Caryn would hav
e to get back to the ranch and get ready for work. Melanie would be waking up soon and would need her father.

  “What you said, about making amends,” Caryn finally said. “I kind of screwed up too. I came down here in disguise, and I lied to everyone I met. I wasn’t going to let on who I was, even to you. I got the job at the bar so I could spy on you and confirm to myself that you were as bad as Mom always said you were, so I could go home and forget about you forever. But instead, the first day I was here I was robbed of everything I had with me, and ended up crashing on the couch at Sugar Hill Ranch. Everyone’s been so nice to me—it’s a long story, but they gave me food and clothes and I even ended up being one of Jayne’s bridesmaids. And the whole time, I was taking advantage of them, pretending to be someone I’m not.”

  She didn’t add that it was Zane, most of all, who she’d lied to; Zane’s heart that she’d endangered, almost as much as her own. But the way Buddy was scrutinizing her, one bushy white eyebrow raised, it was almost like he somehow knew.

  “Three days ain’t even a bug on the windshield,” he said. “That’s not long enough to mess up anything so bad you can’t make it right again. Besides, they’re good folks out there at Sugar Hill. I happen to know that bunch pretty well. They aren’t the type to hang onto a grudge.”

  “I—I hope you’re right.”

  “Three days, on the other hand,” Buddy went on as though she hadn’t spoken, “can be plenty long for some things. Like, in three days you can raise a roof. You can drive from one end of the country to the other.” He looked at her intently, that crooked smile playing at his lips. “You can even fall in love.”

  Caryn felt her face flame. Somehow, Buddy knew. Was it Opal who’d figured it out, from the first night when Zane had driven Caryn home? Or had he picked up on it last night at the reception?

  “There’s…so many obstacles,” she murmured quietly, staring at the empty coffee mug.

  Buddy laughed, a deep, satisfying chortle. “Really? Caryn darlin’, you’re young and strong and in the prime of your life. Don’t do what I did and let your pride get in the way. You might just miss out on the best thing that ever happened to you.” The smile he gave her was bittersweet. “Not everyone gets a second chance, you know.”

  Caryn thought of the young woman inside, and how lucky she was that Buddy had come into her life. She thought of her mother, struggling and alone with a baby three decades earlier, and how she’d done the best she knew at the time—and then been brave enough to try to make things right, even if it involved some subterfuge.

  Nothing good was ever won without risk, it seemed. You put your heart on the line, and for all you know, your hopes would be squashed, your dearest desires lost. But at least Buddy and her mother had each tried, in their own ways.

  Caryn was their daughter. Would she live by their example, and take that risk? Or would she just let it pass her by?

  “I think I need to go,” she said, standing up abruptly. “Thanks for the coffee. Maybe I’ll see you at work, later?”

  “You just might,” Buddy said. “A good boss ought to poke his head in now and then.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Zane borrowed Matthew’s truck to return the rented chairs, and had dropped off the last load and was pulling into the drive while the sun climbed high in the sky. A shiny red SUV was pulled over next to the turnoff to the ranch, the driver stabbing impatiently at a cell phone.

  Zane leaned out the window. “Help you with something?”

  The driver looked up. A man in his thirties, with a slick haircut, designer sunglasses, and open-necked silky shirt that definitely didn’t look local. On the passenger seat lay a large, professional looking camera.

  “This Sugar Hill Ranch?”

  Zane hesitated only a moment before shaking his head. “Sorry, pal, the turn was about a half mile back. By the old filling station. It’s a little tough to see but if you go slow, you’ll find it.”

  “Right,” the guy said, in lieu of thanks, before pulling a fast U-turn that kicked up clods of dirt.

  Overhead, Zane heard the drone of an approaching helicopter.

  “That didn’t take long,” he muttered to himself.

  He crossed the cattle guard carefully, then gunned the engine on the drive. By the time he pulled up in front of the bunkhouse, he had to skid to a stop.

  Chase and Regina were sitting in the porch swing, drinking lemonade. They waved when they saw Zane.

  “Is Caryn back yet?”

  “Yes, she—”

  “Go get her fast,” he interrupted, pointing to the sky. “The buzzards are circling.”

  The pair looked up and saw the rapidly approaching black speck. Chase let out a curse and sprinted into the house. In seconds, he was back, dragging Caryn by the arm. She was wearing a perfectly normal light blue T-shirt and jeans that Zane was pretty sure belonged to Jayne, and barely any makeup.

  And she looked scared to death.

  “Get in,” Zane hollered, leaning across to open her door. “Looks like someone let the cat out of the bag. I just sent some idiot with a camera packing.”

  Caryn jumped in the car and Zane hit reverse before she even got the door shut.

  “Just to be safe, you might want to get in the back seat,” he said. “I’ve got an emergency blanket back there, you can get under it and we’ll just pretend I’m running a sick dog to the vet.”

  “Those people are ruthless,” Caryn wailed. She shimmied over the seat, giving Zane a nice peripheral glimpse of her shapely ass before disappearing from view. Sure enough, at the bottom of the drive, the red SUV was back—and Zane could see the dust cloud of another approaching vehicle.

  The driver was waving wildly, so Zane slowed down.

  “There wasn’t any road by the filling station,” he said. “You sure this isn’t the Sugar Hill Ranch?”

  “Oh, is that what you asked me?” Zane said mildly. “Sorry, I’m a little hard of hearing. Yeah, this is the Sugar Hill. Go on up, they love company up there.”

  The SUV floored it without bothering to thank him, and Zane drove at an easy pace toward town. Along the way, he passed a news van and a guy on a very expensive motorcycle with a camera slung around his neck.

  He turned onto Route 15, whistling as he headed east, away from Conway. “I think you can come out now, Barracuda.”

  A moment later Caryn had popped back over the seat and fastened her seatbelt. Her hair was a bit tousled, but otherwise she looked none the worse for wear.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she said, not looking at him. “You’ve already done so much for me, and if you like, you can drop me off at the nearest Greyhound station. I’m pretty sure none of those creeps would think to look for me there. Or…”

  She stole a glance at him, her face pink and her eyes bright.

  “Or?” Zane encouraged her. “You about to make me a better offer? You think you can bribe me, is that it?”

  “Well,” Caryn said, drawing a breath. “Here’s the thing. Opal called and fired me. I guess Ellen’s ready to come back from maternity leave. Plus, Opal said I’m not a very good waitress.”

  “You’re not,” Zane affirmed.

  “And I’m kind of taking a leave of absence from my, uh, other job. It’ll probably take a little while for things to cool off in the press, so my publicist has advised me to stay out of town for a few weeks.”

  “Is that right.”

  “And, seeing as you’re between hitches, I wonder if I might…hire you. For security.”

  “Personal security. Is that what you have in mind?”

  “Actually, yes. Very, very personal security.”

  “Hmm,” Zane said, pretending to consider the offer. “That wasn’t really my area of the law.”

  “There might be on-the-job training.”

  “How are the benefits?”

  Caryn was now blushing bright red. “Very, um, beneficial?” She gave up and burst out in nervous laughter. “Zane, I’m not very go
od at this. I want—I don’t know what I want, not long term, but I would like to spend more time with you. To see how it goes. I'm not asking you for a commitment, I’m a disaster at relationships in fact, but—well, I’ve never seen much of the country between the coasts. Turns out there’s quite a few states west of New York and east of California and, well, I was hoping you might show me around. All expenses paid.”

  “Wow. You must have done a little better with tips than I realized.” He reached over and hooked his hand in hers and squeezed, and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.

  “Well, I did make a few bucks,” she said modestly.

  “I have to warn you, I’m used to the finer things in life,” Zane said, setting the cruise control. It was a long, flat road toward Fargo, and from there, they might go anywhere: east to Milwaukee, south to Kansas City, even north to Winnipeg.

  “I’ll do my best to keep you happy,” Caryn said. “We could start with a grilled cheese sandwich in a truck stop. I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw BJ and the Bear.”

  Zane glanced at her incredulously. “You’ve never been to a truck stop?”

  “Uh…no, not really.”

  “You’ve led an incredibly sheltered life, Miss Carver,” Zane said in a low and gravelly voice, letting his fingers trail down her thigh. “It’s time you let an experienced man show you a thing or two.”

  “Like fireflies? And county fairs?”

  “Yeah, sure…for starters.”

  “Mmm, this is going to be fun. I should run away from home more often,” Caryn murmured, closing her eyes and sliding down in the seat to give Zane more room to explore.

  EPILOGUE

  “Hey, get in here quick,” Jayne shouted from the living room of their little honeymoon cabin overlooking a pristine blue lake in the middle of nowhere. “You’re going to want to see this.”

  Matthew set down the string of fish he’d caught in the rowboat, and went to join his bride in front of the television. This was the first time all week that they’d turned the set on, and only because the baby had been kicking all day, and Jayne needed to rest with her feet up.