by Tracy March
There’d been no word from Carden. No calls or texts or visits. Lindsey hadn’t expected there to be, and she didn’t intend to contact him either. There was nothing else to say, and seeing him would only set her back in her painful quest to get over him.
The relationship between her and Carden had seemingly ceased to exist. Were it not for a lapis bracelet, a dried long-stem yellow rose, and her broken heart, Lindsey would wonder if she’d imagined their whirlwind romance.
At least things were moving along with the museum. Its success would be her ticket out of Thistle Bend, so investing all of her time in getting it right seemed the least that she could do.
Those August freezes Milly and Merri mentioned had become a reality, and Lindsey had taken to closing the windows in the cabin earlier. Expecting a freeze that night, she started with the windows by the front door, and went around and closed each one. Her heart tumbled every time she caught the scent of vanilla from the wax she and Carden had used on the sash channels.
Finishing in the bedroom, she turned down her sheets and set Ruby Eileen atop the pillow next to hers. Lindsey would have to give up the teddy bear when it came time to put her in an exhibit. But for now, she enjoyed the company.
As much as Carden had hurt Lindsey, Ruby Eileen reminded her of a time when she’d been happy. When Carden had taken her to the lapis mine and showed her the photo of the real Ruby Eileen. Lindsey had delegated Darlene to work with Carden to get the picture copied and enlarged for the museum. Lindsey just couldn’t do it. The same would happen when it came time to install the model town and railroad.
In spite of herself, Lindsey had picked up the latest copy of Colorado Living magazine, and she settled in bed to read the feature they’d published on Carden. She flipped through the glossy pages. Within moments, a picture of Carden stared back at her, as if he were right there. Her heart stammered at the sight of him. His dark-shadowed scruffy face. His piercing blue eyes. His full lips that she’d kissed so many times.
But not enough.
She read the article, learning more about The Crenshaw Family Trust and the land the family was designating as a nature preserve. He’d also answered questions about the ranch, and his reputation as a handyman in town. Her breath caught as she scanned one of the final interview questions.
You were selected by another popular magazine as one of Colorado’s most eligible bachelors. How has that changed your social life?
Unlike his answers to most of the other questions, he’d limited this one to a short paragraph.
I was flattered by the designation, but my social life has remained much the same. I stay really busy. There’s not a lot of time for dating. But I was recently the best man in my little brother’s wedding. Seeing the love between him and his bride has got me rethinking this bachelor thing. I’d like someone special to share my life with.
Lindsey’s throat thickened with emotion. It wouldn’t change things now, but maybe Carden had meant what he said.
It became all about you, Lindsey. Not the museum.
She picked up her phone from the nightstand and tapped her way to the text he’d sent her from the wedding, with the picture of him in a tux.
What’s missing?
She scrolled down.
You’re missing. Wish you were here.
It had taken her this long to even be able to look at his texts again, and she was sorry she had done it. Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table and blotted her tears. Why had she kept his picture and texts on her phone? Dwelling on memories like that would only make the pain last longer. Hovering her finger over the delete button, she inhaled deeply and pressed it. She put her phone aside, closed the magazine, and set it on the bedside table. In the morning, she’d put it in the recycle bin.
Lindsey turned off the light and lay down, feeling lonely and alone. She’d been spoiled by the night in Denver she’d spent sleeping next to Carden. Spoiled by waking up next to him. Her bed had seemed empty ever since, her heart even emptier.
As silly as it was, she reached for Ruby Eileen and hugged her close, the teddy bear’s fur soft and silky. But something hard and smooth pressed into the tender skin of Lindsey’s inner arm. She ran her fingers down the back of the teddy bear, feeling the protrusions at intervals.
Buttons?
Lindsey turned on the light and examined the teddy bear’s back, finding a long, neat row of buttons smartly camouflaged by fur. She unbuttoned them carefully, aware that she was dealing with a delicate antique. The open buttons revealed a compartment lined with the same ivory watered taffeta that had been used to fashion the pads of the bear’s paws.
Lindsey’s heart beat twice for every second. She reached into the compartment and carefully pulled out a yellowed envelope. With shaky fingers, she opened the unsealed flap, removed the papers inside, and spread them on her bed.
—
Carden sat at the bar at the High Country Pub with Travis, working to make his beer last. It had been harder to stick to his one-beer rule since everything had gone to hell with Lindsey, but he forced himself to comply. Just because he’d lost control in one aspect of his life didn’t give him permission to loosen the reins in another.
The neon lights of beer signs glowed, and footsteps clattered on the wide-plank floor. Chatter and occasional laughter echoed from the exposed-beam ceiling, the atmosphere lively. He usually enjoyed the country music playing on the jukebox, or tuned it out if he didn’t. But damn if Craig Morgan wasn’t channeling Carden right now, singing “Wake Up Lovin’ You,” about losing his girl and having one hell of a time getting over it. Poor guy sounded like he’d gotten his heart ripped out. Carden could relate.
“I hate this song,” he said.
Travis drew his head back. “No way. Dude’s pouring his heart out, and he’s got one hell of a voice. Em loves the part where his breath hitches like he’s about to lose it ’cause he loves that girl so much. Says it gets her every time.”
“She’s a perfect match for you, brother.” Carden raised his beer bottle. “Two hopeless romantics.” It took work to keep the envy out of his voice.
Travis clinked his bottle against Carden’s. “You just wait. Some girl’s gonna come along someday and send your heart spinning. You’ll be hopeless, too.”
She already did.
And more than a month after his relationship with Lindsey had ended, his heart was still spinning—and aching and wanting as he wondered what might have been. If he’d thought once about what had gone wrong, he’d thought about it a thousand times. Granted, Stella had asked him to influence Lindsey to favor the Crenshaws in the museum, and he’d committed himself to doing it. But he couldn’t have been more honest when he’d told Lindsey that everything became all about her. His mistake—among others—was leaving out the word “immediately.” She’d had him from the second she stepped into Dean’s cabin, bright like the sun after months of rain.
Are you Dean?
He could still hear the sass in her voice. How different might things have been if she’d let everyone know right away that she was a distant relative of the Karlssons? There probably would’ve been a little firestorm, but it would’ve calmed down—especially considering her professional credentials. It wasn’t as if the development of Thistle Bend’s entire museum hinged on the details of that long-ago land deal. But no one would dare say that to Gran—or Oscar and Tansy Karlsson.
Carden could mull it over a thousand more times, but he’d still end up with the same conclusions. His relationship with Lindsey had been doomed from the start. If only he’d realized that before he’d fallen so hard.
“Gran bought about fifteen copies of Colorado Living magazine,” Travis said. “She’s got the article up on her refrigerator—each page under a magnet and your big ol’ face staring at her every time she wants a glass of milk.”
Carden shook his head, remembering how excited he’d been the week he’d done that interv
iew, just days before he and Lindsey had gone to Denver and he’d slept with her in his arms. He hadn’t slept a full night since.
“It’s a good article,” Travis said. “They even managed to get a couple decent pictures of you.”
Carden shrugged, and grinned—rare for him these days. “Tough job.”
“Em was thrilled when she read the part about our wedding.” Travis raised his chin proudly. “And the part about you wanting to find someone special. She wants you to meet her friend who’s a nurse at the hospital over in Gunnison.” He nudged Carden’s elbow. “Every guy’s got a nurse fantasy, don’t they?”
“Tell her thanks, but no thanks.” Carden struggled to keep his tone light. Hell if he wanted to meet another girl, regardless of his fantasies. How could anyone measure up to Lindsey? “I had a romance hangover from your wedding when I said that.”
Travis furrowed his brow. “Just think about it. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Carden nodded and took the last slug of his beer. Blake Shelton had come on the jukebox, singing “Mine Would Be You”—another sad song about a guy who had the girl of his dreams and let her get away. Had someone programmed misery into that damn jukebox tonight?
He clanked his beer bottle on the bar, stood, and gripped Travis’s shoulder. “I gotta go.”
The heels of his boots hammered the plank floor as he strode out of the pub. He got in his pickup, started the engine, shifted into gear, and headed back to the ranch.
Carden swore he was going to be strong tonight and take the straight route out of town. But at the last second, he whipped the wheel to the right and took the detour he’d taken nearly every night for over a month. A few blocks later, he approached Lindsey’s cabin and drove slowly past. The Lemon Cream paint practically glowed under the full moon, and dim light glimmered in the windows.
Every night, he was tempted to stop, to see if they could piece together everything that had fallen apart. But just like all the other nights, he kept driving.
Chapter 25
Lindsey sat with Milly and Merri at the table in the cozy alcove in their parlor. When she’d called to ask to visit, Merri had insisted on serving tea. Sun streamed into the window, highlighting the hodgepodge china settings and the silver serving trays.
A vase of yellow roses brightened the table—a hostess gift from Lindsey. They tugged at her heart, yet somehow made her happy.
The little old ladies had gotten fancy for the occasion. Merri wore a pink dress that matched her lips, and Milly looked lovely in green, several tendrils of silver hair framing her face. Their patent leather shoes were shined to a sparkle.
Ruby Eileen sat on the table, just as she had before. But this time, Lindsey held the teddy bear’s secrets in an envelope on her lap.
“I understand now why Ruby Eileen was such an important donation to the museum,” Lindsey said after a bit of small talk about tinctures and tonics. “I’ve found some information I think you might be familiar with, and I have some questions.”
Milly and Merri’s eyes glimmered.
Lindsey lifted the envelope from her lap and removed the papers inside. “I’ve cobbled together a story from these documents and letters, and I wonder if I’ve got it right.”
The sisters looked at her encouragingly.
“Let’s see,” Lindsey began. “Young and beautiful Ruby Eileen Crenshaw was a nurse for Brooks Karlsson’s wife, who was very ill the first winter the Karlssons settled in Thistle Bend. During the short days and long nights, Brooks and Ruby Eileen…” Lindsey hesitated, thinking of how to put it delicately. “Developed a relationship.”
“They fell deeply in love.” Milly puckered her lips in a smile.
Lindsey had no question about that. The old letters that she’d read—now just yellowed stationery and faded ink—had brought her to tears with the depth and futility of Brooks and Ruby Eileen’s love.
To want someone so desperately and not be able to be with them…
Her heart ached for them—for herself.
“Brooks’s wife recovered,” Lindsey continued. “But only after Ruby Eileen had become pregnant.” She recalled her shock when she’d learned that the Karlsson and Crenshaw bloodlines became mixed more than a century ago.
“But no one divorced back then,” Merri said gravely. “Or had illegitimate children—at least that people knew of.”
“Even so, Brooks wanted to do right by Ruby Eileen and their child.” Lindsey took a bite of one of the delicious tea sandwiches—chicken salad with tart cherries and pecans.
“He had already put a bid on Granddaddy’s land,” Merri said. “There was little doubt about its value. It could sustain a family for generations. But he couldn’t just give it to Ruby Eileen and their child—everything had to remain secret.”
Milly sipped her tea, nodding. “Ruby Eileen’s father wanted to kill Brooks,” she said. “But he was just as eager to keep his daughter’s virtue from question. So to save face for everyone, Brooks arranged for Ruby Eileen’s father to pretend to outbid him on the land. Brooks gave the Crenshaws the money to buy it with the signed agreement that it would be deeded to Ruby Eileen.”
Lindsey sifted through the documents and came up with the agreement signed by both a Karlsson and a Crenshaw.
“Because people knew Brooks had planned to buy the land, he had to feign outrage over the land being ‘stolen’ from him,” Merri said. “He created a fake feud to protect Ruby Eileen and their child.”
Lindsey was amazed that Brooks had gone to such lengths to protect the woman he loved—and himself, arguably, but it was still an astonishing love story. The man had gone to his grave perpetuating a myth to disguise his love.
“Then Ruby Eileen went to Denver?” Lindsey asked, although the letters proved as much.
“Yes,” Milly said. “Presumably to be a nurse to her brother’s wife, who was pregnant but died during childbirth.” She shook her head. “But there was no brother’s wife.”
“Back then,” Merri said, “no one could truly verify the facts.”
Back then?
“Ruby Eileen returned to Thistle Bend with her infant son and her brother,” Milly said, “and told the story until it became fact. Everyone thought little Hayward Carden was her brother’s child.”
Lindsey’s heart stuttered. “The baby’s name was Hayward Carden Crenshaw?” How had she missed that in the documents? Maybe that was why Carden carried around a picture of his great-great-grandmother. He was named after her son—who was also a Karlsson.
It had taken Lindsey some time to connect all the people. She’d once read an article titled “Everyone Is Your Sixteenth Cousin.” She was starting to see how that could be possible, considering she and Carden were very distant relatives—many times removed because of marriage and adoption—but definitely not by blood. Tansy had married into the Karlsson family generations after Brooks and Ruby Eileen’s baby was born, tenuously connecting Lindsey to the family through her grandmother. There was yet another degree of separation between her and the Karlssons since Lindsey had been adopted. Even so, being a very distant, non-blood relation to the Karlssons had caused her way too much heartache.
Ironically, the Crenshaws and the Karlssons had actually been related nearly all the years they’d been feuding. Best to have smelling salts handy when the news was delivered to Stella, Tansy, and Oscar.
“There hasn’t been a Hayward in a few generations,” Milly said. “But people around these parts are pretty familiar with the name Carden.” She shared a knowing look with Merri. Could it be that even women in their eighties thought he was hot?
Lindsey didn’t want to get on the subject of Carden. These ladies were much too insightful for her to pull that off without giving her heartbreak away. She gathered the papers and put them back in the envelope. Together with Ruby Eileen, they’d make one heck of an exhibit in the museum. “So Ruby Eileen left these documents in the custody of your grandfather?”
“She gave him
the bear, too,” Milly said. “She made it herself.”
“Seems as if your grandfather was the real hero in this story,” Lindsey said.
Milly and Merri beamed.
“He kept a secret that wasn’t even his to keep,” Lindsey said, “And allowed Brooks to deride him publically without defending himself.”
“He was a hopeless romantic,” Merri said. “He knew it was all about love.”
Lindsey gazed out the window, her heart heavy. “It’s such a sad story.” She had worked so hard to find out what had really happened with the land deal, but she’d hoped for a happier ending.
“About the damage caused by secrets and lies,” Merri said.
Lindsey stared at the crumbs on her plate, unable to look at the sisters.
Milly nodded. “And the sacrifices people make for love.”
“Brooks and Ruby Eileen never ended up together,” Lindsey said. “Even though they were so in love.”
“They didn’t have a choice.” Merri raised her eyebrows and set her gaze on Lindsey. “But you do.”
Lindsey furrowed her brow. Was Merri talking about her and Carden? She couldn’t bring herself to ask. They sat in silence for what seemed like way too long.
“Finish your cinnamon roll and come see what we’ve got growing in the greenhouse,” Milly said.
Lindsey ate the last decadent bites of the doughy roll, the delicious blend of butter, sugar, and cinnamon melting in her mouth.
Merri led them outside to the gardens, not nearly as bright as they had been before. The cooler temperatures had started to take their toll. “We’ve made you a goodie basket.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did.” Lindsey smiled. “Everything you gave me before was so tasty. We—I loved the salsa. And the rum raisin oatmeal cookies.” Not only because they’d been delicious, but also because she’d shared them with Carden.
