Enigma

by Taylor Brent

  “Grow up, Mitchell,” Margery spat, disgusted. “Next time you plan date night on one of the six nights a month you have Ainsley, call me, and I’ll pick her up early. I don’t want strangers watching my child anymore. Not when I can do it myself.”

  Mitchell sneered. “Fine. Next time we need to talk about our daughter, let me know beforehand if you’re going to be a complete bitch so I can prepare myself.”

  He spun on his heel and marched out of the diner—which was probably for the best since Margery was seriously contemplating throwing something large and heavy at him.

  She stomped back to the breakfast counter, angry tears brimming in her eyes as she took a few deep breaths in an attempt at getting her temper under control. Mitchell always brought out the worst in her. She had been mistaken to think they could have a calm and rational conversation. Nothing was ever calm and rational where Mitchell was concerned. He was combative on his best days, particularly with her.

  “Are you okay?” a soft, melodious voice asked from behind her.

  Startled, Margery spun around and met the kind, russet brown gaze of the most striking man she had seen in a long while. With copper skin and raven hair braided back from his square face, he appeared Native American. She couldn’t help but trace the hard lines and angles of his smooth jaw that led into the equally hard lines of his body. She sensed muscle and raw power under his simple flannel shirt and jeans.

  Jerking her gaze back up to his face, Margery blushed and nodded. “I’m fine,” she answered, mortified to hear the squeak in her voice. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I’m okay.”

  The beautiful man gave her a doubtful look. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” he began.

  “You and everyone else, I’m sure,” Margery replied, blushing again. “Mitchell, my ex-husband, isn’t one for discretion. I’ll be okay, though. Really,” she added when his concern didn’t seem to fade. “I’m used to it. Now, what can I get you, Mr.…?”

  He gave her one last doubtful look before reaching his hand out to her. “Niyol,” he said. “I’m cousins with—”

  “Rose,” Margery finished for him.

  He looked at her with surprise.

  “Rose and I go way back,” she explained. “She told me about you, and I recognized the name. Are you here for Thanksgiving?”

  He nodded. “Yes. And to spend time with Jill before the baby comes.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a great time with those two. They’re a barrel of fun when they aren’t meddling.”

  Niyol laughed.

  “You ready to order?” Margery asked, smiling; his laughter was infectious and seemed to fill the room with warmth.

  He placed his order and Margery went to tell the cook. When she came back up to the front, she couldn’t help but drift back over to where Niyol was sitting. There was something about him that drew her in, which was slightly unnerving.

  “So, you have a daughter?” he asked, turning his dark eyes on her.

  “Yes,” Margery answered breathlessly. “She’s seven.”

  What is wrong with you? she thought. You are a grown ass woman, not a blushing school girl. Get yourself together.

  Over the next hour and a half, Margery found herself drifting back to talk to Niyol long after he had finished his meal. They talked about Rose and what it was like growing up with her, and Niyol spoke about growing up on the reservation.

  Margery could think of only one other person she could talk with this comfortably, and that was Rose. But Rose never looked at her with such intensity as Niyol did the whole time they talked. It was as if she were the only person in the room with him, and it was both alarming and thrilling to be the center of such undivided attention. After catching herself basking in the warmth of his gaze more than once, she realized it was time to make her exit.

  Flagging down the night manager, Jamie, Margery excused herself to Niyol and made a hurried excuse to Jamie for leaving early. Not wanting to offend Niyol, Margery walked back over and chatted with him a little longer. Even though she told herself it was to save face, she knew deep down she didn’t want to leave his company just yet.

  Eventually, she forced herself to leave, waving to Niyol and Jamie as she left. Margery scolded herself the entire way home for her behavior. She did not want another man in her life. Not now, not ever.

  But her traitorous body disagreed. Her dreams that night were full of dark eyes and a smooth tenor voice that made her toss and turn in a heated frenzy of desire, and she woke the next morning exhausted but unable to recall the dreams that had caused such mayhem.

  If she had remembered the passion and desire of her nighttime fantasies, she would have realized it was never a good idea to say never. She might also have noticed the wall around her heart cracking just a bit as she subconsciously sought the warmth only one strikingly handsome man could give.

  Chapter Two: Family Ties

  Niyol left the small diner not long after Margery did, finishing his coffee and paying his tab. He hadn’t meant to stay so long at the diner, and he knew Jill and Rose would be worried about him. In fact, he hadn’t meant to stop at all before arriving at the Twin Peaks Inn, but something about the sign for Cartwright Diner had captured his attention—perhaps its claim to have “the best coffee west of the Mississippi.”

  Neither the coffee nor the company had disappointed, but he began to regret his decision to stop as soon as he got in his car and looked at his cell phone, finding four missed calls and a half-dozen text messages. Most were from Jill in varying degrees of worry and frustration, and the others were from Rose, asking him why he had a phone if he wasn’t going to answer it and reminding him that Jill was hormonal and panicky with the pregnancy.

  Sighing, Niyol returned Rose’s call first, preferring to explain himself to someone who wasn’t currently being ruled by their glands.

  She answered on the first ring. “I’m guessing you’re alive, then?”

  “Yes, Rose, I’m fine. I stopped to eat and left my phone in the car.”

  Rose scoffed. “I wasn’t planning on letting you starve, Niyol.”

  “I didn’t want to impose,” he replied. “It was already too late for lunch when I got into town, so I thought it would be best if I ate before I came to the inn.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Rose answered sharply. “Anyway, Jill’s worried sick about you.”

  “I’m fine,” Niyol defended. He glanced at the time. It had only been two hours.

  “She’s just tired and hormonal. I think she’s afraid you aren’t coming.”

  “I’ll be there soon,” Niyol promised, feeling a little guilty for his annoyance. Of course, Jill would be a little high-strung. In the few months since he’d met his daughter, she’d gotten caught in a forest fire, gotten married, and was now pregnant. He figured that would make anyone anxious. “Will you let Jill know?”

  “Of course. See you soon,” Rose chirped before hanging up the phone.

  Niyol sighed and pulled out of the parking lot, his thoughts turning toward the diner’s pretty owner, Margery. She was short and cute with a womanly hourglass figure that would make most men stop for a second look and a slightly plump oval face that had smiled at him with sincerity. She’d worn her flaming red hair in a messy bun on top of her head, but Niyol suspected that when she let it down, it curled to her rounded hips. Freckles speckled her nose and cheeks, and bright blue eyes shone out on the world with a mischievous twinkle he’d noticed grow the longer they’d talked.

  The more he thought about it, the more he realized her ex-husband’s combative presence had temporarily dimmed her usual brightness. Her ex’s blatant disrespect had bothered Niyol, and he had noticed he wasn’t the only one. Many a dark look had followed Margery’s aggressive ex-husband out the door. It was clear that the townspeople of Springvale loved Margery and didn’t appreciate her ex making her upset or uncomfortable. It wasn’t difficult to see how Margery had earned the town’s love and respect. She was kind
and nurturing to every person who walked into her diner, and Niyol had enjoyed talking with her.

  He felt a slight pang of guilt when he realized just how much he had enjoyed talking with Margery. It had been well over twenty years since his wife—Jill’s mother—Josephine, had passed away, but Niyol had loved her fiercely. There were some things you just never got over, and the death of someone you loved so completely was one of them. Even worse, Niyol had never gotten closure for his wife’s death. Although he’d known about her lifelong struggle with depression, her death by suicide had taken him by surprise, and the guilt he felt for not trying harder to help her still haunted him.

  Although the United States government hadn’t recognized his marriage to Josephine, it had been enough for them. In a special and sacred ceremony, he had renamed his new wife Haseya after one of his own long-dead ancestors, hoping the name—and his love—would give her strength. But it hadn’t been enough. He had lived and worked within a network of Native Americans whom he referred to as the Nation. His job had taken him on many trips away from Haseya, and she hadn’t fared well on her own. After a trip that lasted several weeks, he returned to find her gone without a trace. He searched for her for almost a year before learning about her tragic death.

  He hadn’t even known about their daughter until a few months ago when Jill’s now-husband, Luke, had tracked him down. The shock of that phone call would never leave him. Nobody had mentioned to him that Haseya had given birth shortly before her death. He figured, by that time, the Martins had already adopted his daughter, and the records had been sealed. If Niyol had known about Jill’s existence, he would never have stopped looking for her. But he hadn’t known, and it wasn’t until now—when she was fully grown and about to start a family of her own—that he could try to build a relationship with her… if he could only get over the vast amount of guilt and regret he had carried with him for over twenty years.

  He never knew why Haseya had left him, and he certainly didn’t understand why she had kept his daughter from him. Over the last few months, he had found himself going from intense anger at his deceased wife to overwhelming guilt and back again. When Jill had called and asked him to come visit for Thanksgiving, he had thought it an excellent opportunity to develop the relationship he should have had with her years ago.

  He had agreed, and a week later, he had gotten a call from Rose. She had decided to buy a few horses to keep at the inn so she could offer trail rides to guests. The problem was, she had no idea how to care for horses since she had never been around them before. Somehow, Rose had known about his background with horses, how he had cared for them when he was much younger. She had asked him if he would ever consider moving to the Twin Peaks Inn and becoming a partner with her and Jill.

  He had taken a few days to think it over, but he needn’t have bothered. There was nothing holding him in Kayenta, Arizona except bad memories and a run-down trailer. He had called Rose back and agreed. As a bonus, his work with the inn’s horses would keep him close enough to have a relationship with Jill and her soon-to-be-born child.

  Jill had sounded excited when he had told her, and he hoped she truly was.

  But worrying her before you even arrive is not the best way to start the relationship, Niyol chastised himself as he pulled into the inn’s parking lot.

  He had sold his trailer for a small profit and had used that money to buy himself a decent SUV he knew would make the four-hour trip to Springvale in one piece. His old car would have broken down twenty miles into the trip. After parking his new car toward the back of the lot, he jumped out and made his way to the front doors, trying to escape the sharp chill of the November air.

  His mind drifted back to Margery and her bright smile, warming his blood a little, and he mentally shook himself. He hadn’t thought this much about a woman since Haseya, and it disconcerted him. Still, he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop thinking about Margery. He knew he probably should, but it was easier said than done.

  Sighing, Niyol rang the front doorbell, hoping someone would answer quickly. The quicker he got inside, the quicker he could get warm again, and the quicker he could distract himself from thoughts of the curvy, irresistible Margery.

  A few moments later, Rose flung the front door open, giving him a warm smile. “Family uses the back door, Niyol,” she said by way of greeting.

  “You should have mentioned that on the phone,” Niyol grumbled, enveloping Rose in a tight hug.

  Rose shrugged. “I thought I had. Everyone is back this way. Come on.”

  She led him down a long hallway and through double swinging doors into a large kitchen. The space held a mix of old and new elements—like most buildings in the town. Niyol found the atmosphere warm and inviting as he gazed around at the room’s occupants. Danny, Rose’s faithful groundskeeper, sat at the far end of the huge hand-carved table, peeling potatoes. Jill and her new husband, Luke, sat closest to the door Niyol had just walked through.

  Upon seeing him, Jill jumped to her feet and rushed over to give him a hug, her pregnant belly jutting out much further than the last time he’d seen her. Niyol returned her hug with enthusiasm before Rose pushed him into a chair. Luke, the man responsible for introducing him to his daughter after all these years, nodded to Niyol, giving him a small, welcoming smile.

  “So,” Rose began, a small smile playing at her lips. “Where did you stop to eat?”

  “Cartwright Diner,” Niyol answered.

  “Oh, how is Margery?” Jill asked.

  Niyol hesitated. “She was okay, I think.”

  “Did something happen?” Luke asked in his deep, quiet voice.

  “She had a… run-in with her ex-husband,” Niyol answered, glancing at Luke before returning his attention back to Jill.

  She had her mother’s heart-shaped face, as well as her nose and mouth. Her deep russet brown eyes, sharp cheekbones, raven hair, and tawny skin came from his side, however. She had her hair tied back in a French braid, but he could tell that she kept it longer than his own hair, since the ends trailed along her lower back. She was a vision, the pregnancy giving her a healthy glow. Placing one hand absently on the bump of her stomach, she frowned at his news about Margery’s ex-husband.

  “What happened?” Rose asked, mirroring Jill’s concern.

  “Not much,” Niyol answered uncomfortably. He wished he had stayed silent. He hated being the one to cast that worried shadow over his daughter’s features. “They argued for a few minutes, and then her ex stormed out.”

  “Mitchell has always had a temper,” Luke said.

  “That the ex?” Niyol asked.

  Luke nodded.

  “He seemed like an ass,” Niyol agreed. “But Margery seemed to handle herself well under the circumstances.”

  Jill’s face brightened a little while Rose chuckled.

  “I imagine she did,” Luke said, amused.

  Their talk drifted to Niyol’s drive and Rose’s plans for the inn. Niyol listened to Rose’s explanation of when the horses would arrive and where she wanted to house them.

  “We’ve almost finished renovating the old barn, so all we need to do is make sure there are no gaps in the pasture fences to the west. It’s a fifty-acre pasture, so there should be plenty of room for the horses I’ve already purchased with room for more if we needed.”

  “How big is your property, Rose?” Jill asked, incredulous.

  “Our property,” Rose corrected. “And I can show you all the land maps and papers tomorrow if you like, but the total acreage is around a hundred and twenty total.”

  “Around?” Jill scoffed. “You don’t even know how much land you have?”

  “I haven’t had cause to use it all until recently,” Rose said with a shrug.

  Niyol wondered briefly about her discomfort at talking about her land but dismissed it as just another one of her quirks. He had been more than touched when Rose had corrected Jill about the ownership. It seemed Rose was dead set on sharing her wealth with them, an
d for someone like Niyol who grew up in poverty, it meant more than Rose could ever know. He suspected her aversion to talking about her vast wealth had more to do with him than anything else.

  “Fifty acres of pasture would be enough for about twenty-five horses,” Niyol mused. “That would be a big number to house here even if we became super busy with trail rides.”

  “I’ve bought three already,” Rose answered. “I don’t intend on having twenty-five horses even if the trail rides are successful. Twenty-five seems like way too many to handle, but we could always consider boarding horses for people and offering lessons for the kids in town. I know a few who have to drive forty-five minutes to the nearest ranch to take their lessons and board their horses. Having the extra space may come in handy down the road.”

  Niyol nodded. Rose’s strategic thinking certainly explained her success as a businesswoman, and he respected the way she used her land as a natural source of revenue and growth rather than forcing more out of it than it could sustain. Looking around the small gathering at the table, he knew it would be no time at all before he felt at home here.

  Chapter Three: Future Plans

  Niyol stared into the fire, lost in thought. Everyone but he and Rose had gone to bed hours ago. The night had been surreal as he sat around the table and visited with the residents of the Twin Peaks Inn.

  Danny had been quiet but friendly, chatting about the property and Rose’s goals for the inn. Jill had been excited, peppering him with questions about living on the reservation and about his side of her family. She had hoped to learn about and meet her other living relatives, and he had hated to tell her that there was no one else besides Rose and himself. Jill had taken the news in stride and had answered his own questions about her upbringing while Luke and Rose talked quietly about plans for a nursery.

  It seemed Jill and Luke planned to stay here for the time being… although Niyol couldn’t fathom why; it made much more sense for the newlyweds to have their own house. With so much land, Rose could have one built on the property if she and Jill wanted to stay close. He would have to talk to Rose about her long-term plans for living arrangements. It was hardly good business to have the whole family taking up half the rooms in the inn.