by Lowe, Fiona
Finn pushed his plate away. “You mean before you cleared the trees and extended the house so it could feature in Vogue Living.”
“I was thinking before it had running water and electricity,” Sean replied mildly.
“Grandpa didn’t mind doing without a few luxuries.”
Sean didn’t react to the bite in Finn’s words and continued on calmly, “Actually, your grandfather bulldozed the first cabin within a week of purchasing the property.”
The statement hung between the two of them and if it was news to Finn, he didn’t show it. In fact he wasn’t showing much at all beyond a stony look.
Sean continued undeterred. “This cabin shares some of the same features and if you’re interested, I can dig out some old photos.”
Annika smiled. Sean was trying to make connections. This was exactly the sort of thing she’d hoped would happen tonight. “You could also check with the historical society. The two cabins may have been built by the same person and share a story.”
“That’s true,” Sean agreed.
But Sean’s attention wasn’t on Annika—it was fixed firmly on Finn. She saw something akin to gratitude in Sean’s eyes and right then she knew this dinner had been the exact thing they needed. She’d given them the opportunity and the place, and now they were taking the first steps in repairing their relationship so they could look to the future. She hugged the feeling of hope to herself.
Sean leaned forward, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’m just pleased to be here, son. I appreciate the invitation.” He squeezed Dana’s hand. “We both do.”
Tension shot through Finn so fast it ricocheted into her with the slash and burn of a whip on skin. “Annika invited you, Dad.” The coolness in his voice chilled the warm air. “I had no clue you were coming until I got here.”
The dismay on Sean’s face tore through Annika. She immediately put her hand on Finn’s arm, hoping to ease him back into the reconciliation. “It doesn’t matter who issued the invitation, the important thing is you’re both here and—”
“No.” Finn moved his arm out from under hers and with his lips barely moving, said, “Dana, I apologize that Annika’s ill-advised invitation has put you in this uncomfortable position.”
The words didn’t touch her because she was still reeling from the way he’d pulled away from her as if touching her was suddenly abhorrent. A little tear bled in her heart.
“Finnegan, I’m sure that Annika was—”
But Dana’s hand gripped Sean’s and she shook her head as if to say, “not now.” “Sean, let’s take the boys home.”
Hot and cold chills raced through Annika as she walked inside to help the Callahans get the boys ready for the boat. With hands trembling from a combination of anger and disappointment that Finn was throwing away an opportunity, she quickly gathered up toys and towels and bundled them into bags. Dana and Sean quietly overruled the boys’ tired and grumpy requests to finish watching the movie and got them on their feet.
Finn stayed standing outside as rigid and as silent as a sentinel waiting for everyone to leave.
“Do you want to come back to Kylemore with us?” Dana asked Annika quietly, concern clear on her face.
Annika shook her head. She wasn’t scared of Finn. There was no doubt in her mind that he was angry with her for inviting them to dinner, but it was an anger born out of hurt. His hurt. Sure, he’d yell and she’d listen, and then they’d talk. The rest they’d work out in bed. “Thanks, Dana, but I need to stay.” Finn needs me.
Dana nodded her understanding and she joined Sean and the boys on the veranda. After some tight and strained “Good-nights” they walked down through the trees to the dock.
Annika expected Finn to yell the moment the motorboat’s engine started but as Dana, Sean and the boys disappeared into the night, Finn spun on his heel, brushed past her and stepped into the cabin. The screen door slammed shut behind him. If he thought she was going to let things slide this time then he was sadly mistaken. Taking in a deep breath, she opened the door and followed him inside.
Chapter Nineteen
Rage burned through Finn hot and strong, scorching everything in its wake, until all that was left was smoldering bitterness that tainted every breath. It had been burning slowly all night despite his attempts to hose it down. He’d thought he’d been doing okay too until he’d seen the look on Sean’s face—the one where he thought Finn had invited him to the island and that one action signaled a change between them. It had acted like a hot, south wind and ignited his fury into a roaring wildfire.
He’d stormed inside because he was so furious with Annika that he could barely configure a sentence. He couldn’t believe she’d betrayed him. Couldn’t believe she’d invited Sean here. Here. His hand tore through his hair as if the action would marshal his thoughts but it utterly failed. He heard the squeak of the door.
Shit. You didn’t think this through, did you? Why had he come inside to a small, two-roomed cabin? He should have gone for a walk around the island or taken the boat and left the island altogether. He knew the first words Annika said would be, “We need to talk.”
Hell yes, they needed to talk. Only this time he’d be the one doing all the talking.
“Finn?” She walked over to him and reached her hand out to his. “I understand you’re angry.”
Understand? The placating words sounded straight out of Psychology 101 and he crossed his arms to avoid her touch. “Annika, it might come as a shock to you, but you don’t understand anything about me.”
Her expression filled with empathy and she gave a half smile as if she thought the statement really silly. “Try me.”
The smile only increased the sensation that he was barely hanging on to everything he understood about his life. “You lied to me. This was no spur-of-the-moment idea, was it? You had no right to invite my father here.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but—”
“There are no ‘buts.’” He threw out his hands. “This is my sanctuary. I choose who comes here. I’ve put up with you inviting people to camp out on the island and with you letting the boys build forts, but I will not stand by and allow you to invite my father to my retreat. This time you’ve gone too far.”
“I didn’t realize I had no rights as to who I could or couldn’t invite, given that you’ve always told me to make myself at home.”
He ignored the flash of hurt in her eyes and overruled the voice in his head that called him a jerk. “I have never wanted my father here.”
This time she threw her arms out wide. “I was only trying to help you and Sean bury the past. God knows, you need someone to guide you through it.”
His jaw was so tight it ached. “I don’t think so.”
“I think so.” Her chin shot up. “You’re blind if you can’t see that your father badly wants to find a way to connect with you.”
Finn had known what Sean wanted from the morning of the campout. “Yeah, well the only way I want to connect with him is the way I’ve been doing it for years. Through work.” He crossed the room, hauled open the fridge and grabbed a beer bottle.
She followed him. “Don’t you think that’s a bit immature?”
“No!” He spun the top off a longneck and tossed it into the bin.
“I know Sean was an absent father full of unmet promises but he wants to make amends, Finn. It’s clear to everyone he’s genuinely sorry but he needs your help t
oo. Can’t you at least meet him halfway? If you keep this up you’re going to miss the opportunity to have an adult relationship with your father.”
He wanted to put his hands over his ears. “I’m fine with the one I’ve got.”
“That isn’t a relationship! It’s a business arrangement.”
“Exactly.” He chugged down the amber liquid, cool against his hot, tight throat.
Exasperation and sadness for him swirled in her eyes and she shook her head very slowly as if she’d just worked something out. “My God, for all that you hate the idea of being like Sean, you are your father’s son.”
He slammed the bottle down. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She pressed her palms down on the counter as if she needed the support. “You’re making the same mistakes your father did at the same age and if you’re not careful you—”
“Like hell I am.” He crossed the room again, agitation pouring through him. “My personal life doesn’t even come close to the debacle that was my father’s. I’m not being unfaithful to a wife and family, and I don’t have any children to ignore because I choose not to have any.”
She bit her lip. “That part is true, but can’t you see? You’re putting work between you and your father and hiding behind the company. This way your father can never let you down or disappoint you again. It’s so much easier than trying to deal with anything emotional because that scares you to death.”
“That’s bullshit.” But her words skated close to the lid he’d jammed on all his feelings about his father. Skated so close that they almost cut it open and released the hurt he thought he’d shed years ago. He was never going to walk through the emotional minefield that was his relationship with his father. “Who appointed you custodian of how I relate to my father? Why are you all up in my face about this?”
Her face softened. “I just want to fix this for you.”
I want to fix this.
I need this industry.
The thoughts rammed into him. This is what she did. And this was how she did it. Weeks of vague thoughts suddenly focused and the scales fell from his eyes.
Annika suddenly shivered as Finn’s dark and enigmatic eyes stared down at her. “If you’re so desperate to fix something, Annika, how about fixing your own life.”
“Don’t turn this back on me, Finn. My life is just fine.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s just perfect. You’re so busy hiding out in Whitetail and living everyone else’s life for them that you’re not living your own.”
His words hammered her and she hugged herself hard. “I live in Whitetail and I’ve been working my butt off trying to save my town. If that’s not ‘living my life’ then I don’t know what is.”
But his penetrative gaze didn’t move an inch. “The saving-the-town bit, it didn’t go so well for you, did it? They didn’t want to be saved in quite the way you believed it should happen.”
For the first time since she’d come inside, he spoke quietly, and there was something about the way his face had softened that made her stomach lurch. Oh God, he knew. He knew about the town meeting. She tossed her hair and tried not to let the hurt from the town flatten her. “We had a difference of opinion, is all.”
He stepped a bit closer. “Melissa told me what happened the day Ty Dennison came. How they asked you to step down. This is why you’ve been spending more time here and why you’re hell-bent on getting over-involved with my family.”
Her breath hitched in her throat as her chest tightened and she shook her head hard and fast. “I’m just trying to help. I’m not over-involved.”
“Yes, you are.” He strode straight to her painting box and picked it up. “If you want to help then help yourself and get involved in your own life. Start living it the way you should be.” He shoved the box into her arms. “By painting.”
She put the box down. “I am living my life the way I should be. Right here, in Whitetail, where I’m needed.” Was needed. Her throat got a lump in it and she tried hard to swallow around it.
Finn shook his head. “No, you’re hiding from it here in Whitetail but they’ve just released you from your self-imposed responsibility. It’s time to stop throwing roadblocks in your own way. I tracked down that review of your work, Annika, and I read it. Are you really going to let one person’s opinion rule your life?”
“It wasn’t one person’s opinion. It was three!” She spun away from him, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it loud in her ears.
“So your style wasn’t theirs, so what? It doesn’t mean you just stop.”
His caring voice didn’t lessen the impact of his words and she tried to take in a long, deep breath but she was being spun back in time to the cruel reviews and she couldn’t move air in or out. Bitterness spilled over. “I didn’t stop. God, I’ve tried painting. I was asked to paint a series of this lake for an exhibition in Milwaukee but I can’t paint what I see. When I try it just comes out bland and lifeless and wrong. Everything about the paintings is wrong and I’m not exposing any more of my failures to the world.”
“Isn’t that being just a bit overdramatic?”
He stood in front of her, this successful man she loved, and the distance between them had never felt greater. “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do, Finn. You’ve never been publicly humiliated nor had what you believed was your best work thoroughly trashed. And why would you? You’re a winner. Under your guidance AKP is weathering a huge financial storm while other companies around you are going to the wall. But not all of us are as driven, or talented, or strong as you are.”
His eyes burned her. “You think I don’t have problems or challenges? If you believe that then you’re living in fantasyland. The only difference between the two of us is that I’m not a quitter and I never took you for a coward.”
“I’m not a coward.” She knew she was yelling but if she tried to speak more quietly her voice would crack. “I’m making a choice with my life. Right now I’m creating beautiful invitations and making brides happy.”
He shook his head slowly and his expression filled with sorrow. Sorrow for her. “Now you’re just lying to yourself. Again. First it was saving Whitetail and now you’ve lost that you’re clinging to the calligraphy. You know you’re not happy.”
She stared at him, thinking about the past few weeks. “Of course I’m happy. I’ve got you.”
The moment the words slipped out she wanted to pull them back and push them down deep where they belonged until he was ready to hear them.
But they hung between them, vibrating loudly, and their message clear.
Finn’s face paled under his summer tan and his black eyes seemed huge in his handsome face. “Annika, you and I, we’re—”
She cut him off with a forced laugh, not wanting to hear the words she knew would follow. “What I meant to say was I’ve got you until Labor Day.”
But he didn’t laugh with her and every muscle, bone and tiny cell on his beautiful body said he didn’t believe her. “I never meant for you to...”
It was like a balloon inside her which had been holding her up and it suddenly deflated. She shrunk in on herself. “Fall in love with you?” She bit her lip, hating his shocked surprise. “No, sorry. My bad.”
An agonized look crossed his face. “It’s been fun, Annika. It’s been amazing, but you know we wouldn’t work. Not long-term. Like you said, I don’t do emotional connections. I don’t fal
l in love, but most importantly, I won’t let you live your life through me.”
Her heart split in two and the ripping pain seared her like no other pain she’d ever experienced. It stole her breath before shooting down deep to a level never reached before. The man she loved didn’t love her. He didn’t need her. He was letting her go.
First Whitetail. Now Finn.
Her legs trembled and she gripped the back of the couch so she didn’t sink to the floor. Where to now?
Somehow, from somewhere, she managed to muster up a spark of dignity. If Finn was blind to what they could have together, if he was so scared of the idea of loving her that he saw no reason to fight for her—for them—then she knew what she had to do. “I should probably spend the night at Kylemore.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s probably best.”
Best? Pain made her numb. Nothing about this was best.
She absently picked up a light jacket. “I’ll clear my stuff out tomorrow and make arrangements for someone to work in the office.”
He ran his hands raggedly through his hair. “Annika, you can still work for AKP.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t compartmentalize my life like you can.”
He stared at her silently and then, ever the gentleman, he picked up the boat’s keys. “It’s dark so I’ll take you over.”
And the most important relationship of her life ended in a polite and agonizingly silent boat trip.
* * *
Bridey snuggled in close to Hank, loving the feel of the soft wool of his tux and the cool satin of the lapels caressing her bare shoulders. Her ivory silk organza gown with its hand-pieced lace tulle overskirt spilled over his legs and filled the carriage, rising to meet the low sides. The horse snorted as Al flicked the reins and the carriage started moving slowly around the town square.
