“I’m going to throttle that man the next time I see him. ” Sorrow leaned forward and took her hand.
“It’s not Eddie’s fault. ” She pulled away. Too much contact, and she would lose it. “I was stupid to think there was anything there. ”
“You don’t have to leave because of it. ”
“I’m not leaving because of Eddie,” she insisted. Not really, anyway. “I’ve got a killer bonus package. I figure if I work even for two, three years, I can sock away enough to cover what Dad’s IRA doesn’t. ”
“Forget that. ” Sorrow squeezed her hand. “Dad has enough saved. We own the place outright. We are sitting on a gold mine, right?” she joked, referring to the veins of gold running deep through the rock, too deep for anyone to touch.
She laughed, and it was good to have a moment’s respite from the intensity. “Don’t tell Dad that. I’m sure he has dreams of being Prospector Pete. ”
The door jingled as Helen came in, and Sorrow checked the clock over the bar. “You’re early. ”
Helen’s eyes went from Sorrow in her jammies, to her, probably looking ready to crack. “Do you need me to come back?”
Laura tried her smile again, but she knew it was stiff. “Not at all. I’ll be hitting the road soon. Just grabbing some fuel for the drive. ” She sipped her coffee—it was still too hot, but she needed something to burn away the emotion.
Helen tied on her apron. “I wanted to get out, grab some time to think. ”
“Work is good for that sometimes,” Sorrow said, filling the uneasy silence. “Don’t mind us. ”
“I’ll get everything going in the kitchen, then. ” Helen disappeared into the back.
“Good. ” Her sister leaned forward. “Now I have even more time to convince you. ”
She gave her a rueful smile. “You’re not going to convince me. ”
“You don’t have to go back to work,” Sorrow insisted. “The lodge and tavern will be fine. Mom and Dad will be fine. We’ve always gotten by. It’s not up to you to shoulder everything. ”
“It’s not just that. I don’t know that I ever really belonged here. ”
“How can you say that? Sierra Falls is your home. ”
“I was fooling myself to think that I could be…I don’t know…nature girl or something. ” She gave an embarrassed shrug. When she felt Helen emerge from the kitchen, going behind the bar to get the coffee started, she pitched her voice lower. “Here’s the irony. That stupid ranch is on some sort of protected owl nesting ground. So, after all that, I actually could shut Eddie down. ”
“But you’re not?”
“Of course I’m not. Why would I? The Jessups do good. They’re a fixture in Sierra Falls. Scott the forest ranger. Mark the doctor. Jack’s boy is off at boot camp. You don’t get much more upstanding than all that. And then there’s Eddie. He’s practically
a hero, using his own money to do stuff for needy kids. How many lives has he touched? How many kids’ futures have changed because he’s got the spare cash to buy gear and food? You pointed it out yourself; the Jessups aren’t going to ruin us, so why should I put Jack and Eddie out of business? Especially now that I’ll be going back to my old job. I’ve got great insurance, an IRA. Hell, with what my old boss is paying me, I could start a whole new hotel. ”
Sorrow gave her an evil grin. “You could do it to spite the Neanderthal. ”
“I guess…” She gave a halfhearted smile. “I don’t know. I was wrong about Eddie. He’s a good guy. I think I’ll just back away slowly, you know?”
They were speaking in hushed tones, but she could tell by Helen’s pauses that the woman was catching dribs and drabs of the conversation. It hardly mattered, though. Not at this point. And besides, after all Helen had been through, she couldn’t fault her anything. It was amazing she’d even let her husband back in the house. She guessed that was what marriage was about—commitment. And being a team for life sometimes meant forgiveness.
She’d thought she was ready for something like that, but maybe she’d been right about herself all along. Business was her strength. Not men. Spreadsheets in bed, just like Eddie had said.
She felt that ache again in her throat and took a last sip of coffee to burn it away. She checked the clock. “I should go, and you should get dressed. ” She gave her sister a sad smile. “You need to text me. And call. Anytime. If you take anyone else wedding dress shopping, I swear, I will kill you. ”
Sorrow walked her out. “Let us know when you get there. ”
“Next stop, San Francisco. ” She selected some music on her phone—an old Dixie Chicks CD, with songs about strong women walking away—plugged it in, and hit the road.
But the next stop wasn’t San Francisco. She couldn’t leave Sierra Falls without paying one last visit.
Thirty-six