Trail of secrets, p.15
Trail of Secrets, page 15
“I’m angry with Mr. Monson for how he treated us, for forcing you into such a terrible situation.”
A cup of chamomile tea settled before her. Her mother took the seat across from Isobel, looking at her over the rim of her mug.
“It can be challenging to run a restaurant. Most fail in the first year. Many more in the second. Those that succeed are in the minority, Izzy. We made ours work for over twenty years.”
“And it would be working still if Luke Monson hadn’t forced you from your long-term location.”
Her mother leaned forward, eyes calmer than Isobel ever remembered them. “I’m glad we lost the restaurant,” Catarina said.
“What?” Isobel sputtered.
“The hours were impossible. Your father and I were ready to drop from exhaustion, especially after you left and Grant was a senior. Your brother never would drive the younger kids around like you did. Nor did he stop by after classes to help prep the meals or clean up later.” Isobel’s mother ruffled her hair. “You always were a good girl. A helper.”
“But that place was like a second home,” Isobel said.
Catarina glowed with pride. “I loved the good times there, too.” She shook her head, and the few silver strands glinted in the overhead light. “But it was a monster, always a step away from eating us whole.”
“I had no idea you felt that way.” The words seemed to carved themselves from Isobel’s throat.
Before she could say anything else, her mother spread out her arms, gesturing to include the kitchen and the ranch as a whole. “Now, we rise two hours later than we did before and go to bed three hours sooner. This is a good life, and it’s one I wish we could have provided to all you children.”
She leaned forward, reaching across the table to clasp Isobel’s hands. “Portia is doing so well here with the sunshine and animals. Ajax did, too. He’s talking about going into veterinary science, you know.”
Isobel hadn’t known that.
“You were much like little Portia, then, before the worries grew to be too much. Yes, this is a much better arrangement. The old life? It’s good memories but it was poison on the relationships that matter most.”
Isobel stared down into her mug, unsure what to say. After a tentative sip, Isobel admitted her mom was right. She missed the restaurant as much for the nostalgia of the place—the happy memories of baptisms and weddings, birthdays and holidays—more so than the hard work of washing dishes, tables, and floors, or scrubbing pots until after midnight.
She didn’t miss that work. Nor did she miss the heat of the griddle or the stress of getting a large order correct and all the meals hot and ready to go at the same moment.
In fact, Isobel realized with a faint gasp, she didn’t miss running inventory or correcting the few line chefs they’d had over the years, either. While Isobel loved to cook, she didn’t miss payroll or marketing or pricing new menus.
She missed the creativity of preparing an unexpected treat for the taste buds. She missed smelling, touching, tasting the foods she created.
But running a restaurant?
“Counseling’s more fulfilling,” Isobel murmured.
Catarina beamed. “I’m so glad to hear that, because you, my darling, are so very good at it.”
So, yes, Alec was right about where she ended up.
“Thanks, Mom.” Isobel smiled at her. She picked up her tea and sipped again. “So, how long has the affair between Jamie and Steve been going on?” she asked.
Catarina’s smile was a bit sly. “I did good with that match, eh? Hardest thing I ever did was not tell you.”
Isobel wondered why her mother hadn’t but then decided they had better things to gossip about.
“Yes. How long?”
“Oh, a few months.” Her mother sat back in her chair, looking as smug as a cat who’d gotten the canary.
“Huh.” Isobel looked down into her half-empty mug. “Missed that one.”
“Oh, you didn’t miss it,” her mother said. “You were kept out of it. That is, until Alec showed up and noticed everything and everyone connected to you.” Her mother shook her head, her long, dark hair loose and drifting over her shoulder. “You two always had that…that spark. I’m glad you’re exploring it.”
Isobel raised her eyebrow but left the statement alone. Because Isobel had long thought her mother knew what she was going to do long before Isobel did.
“Did you know?” Isobel blurted. “That Luke Monson verbally abused and hit Alec?”
Catarina stared down into her mug. “I’m the one who told Cynthia.” That was Alec’s mother. Catarina’s chin wobbled. “Not long after we moved into our house.” Catarina stared down into her tea. “That was one of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had. I guess Cynthia confronted Luke. Not long after, our rent went sky-high.”
Isobel absorbed that comment, releasing years of guilt in the next breath. “I always thought Mr. Monson did that because he hated Alec hanging out with Grant and me.”
Catarina smiled. “Oh, darling. You were never the problem. Never could be a problem. That’s why Cynthia wanted Alec to be here at the Bar V. She knew you’d help her boy, just as you always have.”
Surprise reverberated through Isobel and she wrapped her fingers around the mug to warm them—and keep them from trembling. “So, you still speak with Cynthia?” Isobel asked. “I mean, you have besides her coming by here yesterday?”
“Oh, yes. She’s been a good friend. She got us the Realtor who helped us sell the place for more than it was worth.” Catarina smiled. “And that money has helped us be comfortable here, not to mention paid part of your culinary degree as well as for Grant and Ajax’s schooling.”
Once the grinding ball of emotion in Isobel’s throat eased enough, she said, “Thank you. You and Dad…you are the very best parents.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Catarina’s smile slid from her face and she sighed, a heavy, painful sound. “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t yet again in another tight spot.”
“Why do you say that?” Isobel asked. The relative peace she’d achieved during their talk faded, leaving her muscles twitchy.
“Cynthia mentioned a divorce. Those are difficult in the Mormon church. And Luke will blame us. No matter what he said yesterday about burying the hatchet.”
“How can he?” Isobel asked.
“He told me years ago, I stuck my big Greek nose where it didn’t belong. And from everything I’ve seen since, he won’t forget what he sees as my destroying not just his plans for Alec, but his life.”
18
Alec
Alec awoke as Isobel crept back into her bedroom. Her skin was cool—too cool for a short jaunt to the bathroom.
“You okay?” he mumbled, his mind snapping to alert.
“Yes. I went to talk to my mother.”
“Oh.” Alec didn’t know what else to say.
“She told me more about the situation before—why your father raised the rent on their restaurant space.”
Alec tensed, but then Isobel wrapped an arm across his chest and snuggled her head on his shoulder. She yawned. He ran his palm over her hair, smoothing out the tangles.
“Your dad is never going to be one of my favorite people, Alec.”
“Join the club.”
Isobel raised her head and met his eyes. She held them for a long moment—long enough for Alec’s heart to begin to pound. “But you are. A good man,” Isobel whispered.
Alec swallowed the lump building in his throat. Isobel laid her finger over his lips before he managed to speak.
“Take the compliment as it’s meant. I care about you, Alec. I care for you, too. To me, you have always been kind. A good man.”
Alec bussed her finger before drawing her closer against his side. He closed his eyes, basking in Isobel’s approval.
He hadn’t expected to still be here, in her bed, in her good graces. But he was thankful for a second chance. And he meant to prove he deserved it.
The next day passed in tiny increments. They spoke little about the past at breakfast, Isobel stating she chose to look forward. Alec agreed with alacrity.
That night when he came to her cabin, Alec appeared more nervous than normal. He kissed her like he always did, but he seemed distracted.
“I called my mother. She’s coming up tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Isobel said, her hands fluttering for a moment before they kneaded her belly where butterflies danced around. Cynthia had always been kind to Isobel, but Isobel worried Cynthia wouldn’t consider her good enough for her son. And tell Alec that.
“She said she has some information that might prove helpful to Steve and the police. About Martin.”
Isobel frowned as she closed the door behind Alec. She locked it before facing him. “Did she tell you anything?”
Alec shrugged but worry darkened his eyes, too. “No. I got the sense my father came home while we were talking. She hurried me off the phone. She’s supposed to leave a message with the time and place tomorrow. If she doesn’t, I’ll need to drive down to Salt Lake and make sure she’s okay.”
Isobel hugged him, enjoying his strong arms encircling her shoulders and the way his heart thudded with a steady rhythm against her cheek. “I’ll go with you.”
“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.”
After a few minutes, Alec dropped a kiss to the top of her head.
“I tried to call Grant,” Alec said as he settled on her couch.
Isobel walked to the other side of the sofa and sat nearby. “Let me guess. Straight to voicemail?”
Alec nodded, his face taut with worry. “I…I need to know if he’s okay with my dating you. With us.”
Isobel bit her tongue. While she knew her dating Alec wasn’t her brother’s decision, Alec needed her brother’s approval.
“Would you like to borrow my phone? He sometimes answers.”
Alec stared at her phone for a minute. “Yeah.”
Isobel brought up Grant’s contact information and handed it over to Alec. His finger trembled as he pressed send.
Isobel scooted close enough for their thighs to touch. When he reached over and clutched her hand in his, her heart melted.
“Hello? Grant? No, this is Alec. Because she gave it to me.”
Alec thrust the phone toward Isobel. “He wants to talk to you.”
Isobel sighed and grasped the phone in her free hand. “Hey, Grant.”
“What the hell, Izzy?” he growled.
“It’s nice to talk with you, too, brother dear.”
“Cut the crap. Why did you give him your phone?”
Isobel sighed. “I’ve been talking to Mom and Dad about those years, Grant, when we lost the space then lost the restaurant. You should, too.”
“Why would I want to relive some of my worst memories?”
“Because what you perceive as worst is nothing compared to what others have gone through.”
Grant remained quiet for a long moment. Isobel could hear the calls over the hospital’s intercom behind him. He was at work, then. But, Grant was almost always at work. That’s how he’d handled his disappointment in the world—by ignoring it and working until he couldn’t see straight, let alone think about it.
“Okay. Put Alec on the phone.”
She handed the phone back to Alec, who fumbled it and had to use both hands to get it to his ear. He said, “Hello?” even as he clasped his hand to hers again.
Yeah, she was in trouble. Alec’s show of vulnerability might well cause her to fall further in love with him.
But she didn’t hear one word of the conversation Alec had with Grant. Nope. She was busy trying not to hyperventilate at the revelation she was in love with Alec Monson.
Worse, as she looked back at her dating history, at the time she spent with Alec and how much she hurt when he left without a word, she had to face the fact she’d always loved him.
Finally, he dropped the phone to the couch beside him and hauled her into his lap. Isobel went, needing the physical comfort, but also because she was too dazed to do more.
“That went better than I expected,” he said, relief flowing through each word.
She patted his biceps, still trying to wrap her head around this new, disturbing reality.
How had she not realized? Thee moy! She was a counselor, for goodness sake!
“I don’t know what I did to deserve your family. But I am so happy you lived nearby.”
Isobel bit her lip as she rested her cheek against Alec’s shoulder, the spot she’d begun to think of as hers. But for how long would such a relationship last? Could Alec stay with her once he was well? Why would he want to stick it out in the far reaches of Utah, when he could work or live anywhere?
Isobel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her breathing calm.
“Hey. You okay?” Alec tipped her chin up. He had the most beautiful, clear eyes. Long, thick lashes, a kissable mouth. A kind heart.
Her world tilted as her vision tunneled. How…when had this happened? Isobel was so deeply, irreversibly in love with Alec, she might never recover if he left. He’d worked his way right into the center of her soul and she loved him there.
“I’m fine.” She smiled, but it felt tremulous. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. “I’m thrilled you and Grant are working out your differences.”
Alec kissed her deeper, longer, leaving her panting with the need for more before snuggling her close to his side.
“Because of you, Izzy. That’s why I was able to make that call.”
She kissed him, needing the connection. Needing to know he wanted her with the same desperation.
And it was there, in his kiss.
He’d been in love with her once. Maybe…maybe if she was lucky, he would love her again.
With those thoughts burning through her mind, Isobel tugged Alec toward her bedroom, unwilling to let him out of her sight.
19
Alec
Portia called to Alec as he came around the last bend in the road and up the drive of the main house. His chest still heaved from the exertion of the last uphill kick on his seven-mile run, so he raised his hand in response.
“Hey, Portia. What’s up? Aren’t you and Izzy going on a trail ride later?”
“What? Oh, yeah. This afternoon.”
Alec had met Isobel not long after she turned thirteen. Portia was two years older than that now, but in many ways seemed younger. Alec bet her maturity had something to do with Portia’s status as the baby of the family, not unlike his own sister, whom his family coddled and spoiled.
But Portia didn’t act as entitled as Molly. She was a sweet kid with a good head on her shoulders. Yesterday, Alec overheard her telling Izzy she wasn’t ready to go on a date to the movies with a boy from her class who’d asked her.
“I’m too young for all that right now. I want to have fun with my friends. To ride horses and train the dogs.” She’d wrinkled her nose, showing her disdain. “Boys are trouble.”
Portia clasped her hands under her chin and seemed to quiver. “Did you hear the news?” Portia asked, her eyes—so like Izzy’s—widened with shock.
Alec shook his head.
“Martin didn’t appear for his hearing,” Portia whispered, beside herself with excitement.
“I hadn’t heard that.” Alec inhaled hard, trying to calm his breathing. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I heard Steve talking to Jamie. They’re going to set up some patrols. See if Martin’s been out here on the property.”
Alec’s stomach iced over. “Where’s your sister?”
“In the mess hall,” Portia said.
Alec turned Portia by the shoulder and nudged her back into the house. “Until they find the guy, it’s important to remain in sight at all times. Your family’s going to worry about you otherwise.”
She grumbled, but she walked in front of him. By the time they reached the dining room, Portia chattered on about her assignment in biology and how one of the boys at her school had been trampled by an angry bull during the 4-H meeting yesterday.
Alec listened with half an ear until he saw Izzy seated at her normal table, head bent close to her mother’s. The relief sapped what little energy remained in his limbs after his punishing run.
He walked over and slid onto the bench beside Izzy, not caring who saw them together or what questions were asked.
“You heard?” Izzy asked. Her eyebrows pinched together over the bridge of her nose.
Alec nodded. “Portia told me.”
Izzy released a sigh. “I hate to do it, Mom, but you’re right. Until Martin’s caught again, I don’t feel comfortable taking Portia out on the trails.”
Catarina patted her daughter’s hand. “She won’t like it, but she’ll understand.” She grimaced. “She must.” She turned toward Alec. “Your mother called a bit ago. She said to tell you she’d meet you in town at the coffee shop at eleven. I’m sure Adrian can give you a ride. He’s planning a supply run.”
Her eyes beseeched Alec’s to keep her husband safe. Damn right he would.
“Thanks,” Alec responded. He ran his palm up Izzy’s back, feeling her slight shiver at his touch. “You going to be okay?” he asked.
Izzy nodded, though the concern sat on her face. Alec didn’t like to see her worried. He wished he hadn’t promised to see his mother—he’d almost postponed because he wanted to spend time with Izzy. But he needed to talk to her to make sure his father was keeping his end of the bargain—and had nothing to do with Martin’s disappearance.
Catarina rose and came back to set a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of him. Alec took a bite, then another. After he sipped some orange juice, he said, “Izzy?”
She snapped to attention, her face losing some of its tension. “I’ll be fine.”
Alec took another bite as he glanced up at the clock, noting it was half-past nine. He’d left Izzy still asleep in her bed when he went for his run. Her soft pink lips were lax in sleep and her hair spilled over the white pillowcase and her bare shoulder. It was his new, favorite mental snapshot.
