Zane

Zane nodded. That was what he’d been doing around that time.

“Do you know what happened when I walked into my kitchen, Zane?”

Zane frowned. “No.”

“I swear I could smell gingerbread.”

Zane didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. All he had to do was remember the days when he and his siblings would wake up to the aroma of gingerbread. Their mother loved to bake, and gingerbread cookies were her favorite as well as theirs.

“Then it hit me that it’s been almost twenty years, but damn it, I still miss Mom like yesterday,” Derringer said, obviously trying to keep the pain from his voice. “Both her and Dad…but especially Mom. She had a way of making all our wrongs right.”

Zane had to agree. Their mother had been special, and Susan Westmoreland had fostered a close relationship with all her children. He’d been in his late teens when his parents had died—in his second year of college. He recalled when he’d been around sixteen. At the peak of his dating years in high school, he’d thought he was a Casanova, the school’s stud. His mother would warn him about breaking some girl’s heart and claimed that if he wasn’t careful someday a girl would come along and break his.

“I’ve been thinking of her a lot lately, too,” Zane confessed. “I often wonder how different things would be if that plane hadn’t crashed. Dillon would be retiring from the NBA about now, and Ramsey would have come out of college to become a sheep rancher and not have gone to work at Blue Ridge. And,” he added with a smile, “we wouldn’t have had the trouble that we did out of the twins, Bane and Bailey. The first time Bailey said a curse word around Mom her ass would have been grass.”

“Yeah.” Derringer chuckled. “Mom didn’t play. But she also had a soft heart. All the neighbors loved her and Aunt Clarisse.”

Zane had a feeling his mother would have liked the spouses her sons and daughters had married. Ramsey was happy with Chloe, Derringer was head over heels in love with Lucia and both Gemma and Megan had married good men who worshipped the ground they walked on. He drew in a deep breath, suddenly convinced his mother would have loved Channing, as well.

Neither Derringer nor Zane said anything for a minute, and then Zane asked, “When did you know you loved Lucia?”

If Derringer found the question odd, he didn’t say. Instead, he took a sip of his iced tea. “First of all, I fought it like hell. The reason I never let any woman get close to me was because the very thought of falling in love and getting attached to someone sent chills up my spine. The thought of losing them the way we lost our folks and Uncle Adam and Aunt Clarisse was unacceptable to me. I had this fear of loving Lucia and then losing her the way we lost Mom.”

Zane studied his brother. He wondered if Derringer knew that Zane had similar fears. “How did you overcome them? Those fears.”

“By realizing that life is full of risks. Things happen. I couldn’t live my life waiting for something bad to come my way. Then I decided that nothing, especially not my fears, weighed more heavily than my desire to be with Lucia, to build a life with her and make a family. That’s when I admitted to myself that I cared more for her than for any other woman before, that I loved her. And when a man loves a woman he will move heaven and hell, if necessary, to make her the most important person in his life, regardless of the risks. She is worth the risk. She becomes your life.”

Zane didn’t say anything as he continued to sip his tea. He knew in his heart that Channing was worth the risk. She was a vital part of his life, but up to now he’d been too afraid to admit it.

The thought of loving a woman was scary as hell, but what was even scarier was the possibility that he’d lost her and might not ever see her again. Or the thought that wherever she was she hated his guts.

“Can I ask you something, Zane?”

Zane glanced over at his brother. “Yes.”

“Do you love Channing?”

Zane sucked in a quick breath at his brother’s question, but then only moments later he answered by saying, “I believe I do.”

Derringer shook his head. “That’s not good enough. You need to know for certain. You owe it to yourself, as well as to her, to know what your true feelings are. Do you know what I think, Zane?”

Zane poured out the rest of his tea. “No, what do you think, Derringer?”

“You’re afraid to admit to falling in love for the same reason I was. Losing people you love is hard. But you need to weigh all the options. Think of all the things that might happen and those that might not. Then ask yourself if spending time with Channing every day for the rest of your life is worth the risks.”

Derringer glanced at his watch when he saw Jason returning. “I guess it’s time for us to get back to work.”

Zane found it hard to focus on work without thoughts of Channing and what his brother had said consuming his mind. For years, his brothers and cousins had considered him the know-it-all where women were concerned, and he did know a lot. But the one thing he didn’t know was how to love and appreciate the one woman who should have mattered. The one woman who was meant for him.

Channing was meant for him. He could see that now.

A few hours later, telling Derringer and Jason that he needed to leave for a while, Zane got in his truck and drove over to Megan’s Meadows at breakneck speed. He figured his sister was still at work and was glad it was Rico who opened the door. Before Rico could say anything, Zane spoke up and said, “I want to know where Channing is.”

At the frown that settled on Rico’s face, Zane held up his hand. “I love her, man.”

Rico studied Zane, and then he nodded slowly.

“I figured you would come to your senses sooner or later. But be prepared. Love or no love, I don’t think she’s going to make things easy for you. Personally, I wouldn’t.”

Zane wasn’t surprised by that. “Yes, but there’s no way I’m not going to try.”

Six

One of Channing’s favorite spots in her grandmother’s beach house was the window seat. She remembered when her grandfather had knocked down the wall to build it—a huge bay window with a padded seat long enough to stretch out on. One night in her teen years she’d even slept here. She’d woken up staring out at the ocean.

So here she sat with her legs stretched out in front of her while reading a book. The story had held her attention for the past two days, and she planned to finish it later tonight. After reaching a good stopping place, she placed her book aside, stood to stretch and decided to go to the kitchen to get something to drink.

Her brother hadn’t called, which meant her grandparents hadn’t mentioned anything to him and she appreciated that. The last thing she needed was for Juan to call wanting to know why she wasn’t in Denver when she’d told him she would be there awhile. He was five years older and could be overprotective at times.

Although neither her parents nor Juan had met Zane, she had mentioned him on a number of occasions, so there was no doubt in her mind that they were aware she’d fallen in love. Just like there was no doubt in her mind that they knew the relationship had ended. No one had asked, but her family was astute enough to know her decision to leave Denver two years ago had something to do with Zane.

She was heading back to her window seat with a cold glass of lemonade when there was a knock at the door. She smiled, figuring it was the six-year-old girl she’d met yesterday on the beach. The youngster, Sandy Farmer, was an absolute doll. She and her parents and her adorable nine-month-old baby brother had rented the beach house next door for the entire summer. The parents were probably in their early thirties, and it was easy to see that they were in love.

Jennifer Farmer had let Channing hold her son, and the moment she had held the baby in her arms she recalled a time when she’d dreamed of marrying Zane and having his child. But then, in that same dream, she had fooled herself into thinking he loved her. The Farmer family was beautiful, and seeing them together made Channing realize just what she might never have.

But she’d decided not to take men or relationships seriously, she reminded herself, as she placed the glass of lemonade on the table and moved toward the door. Sandy had paid her a visit a few hours ago to see if Channing wanted to build sand castles on the beach.

Ready to tell Sandy she couldn’t go out on the beach with her just yet, she opened the door.

“Hello, Channing.”

* * *

From Channing’s expression, Zane knew he was the last person she’d expected to see. She looked amazing with bare feet and wearing a short denim skirt and a lavender T-shirt. While she was still standing in the doorway, stunned, he figured he would ease inside before the shock wore off.

When he closed the door behind him, shock was replaced with anger. “Hey, wait a minute! I didn’t invite you in. What are you doing here, Zane?”