The Fifth Season (9 page)

“He’s fine.”

“And River Run, will he keep River Run?”

“No Nate, he’s not going to keep the resort. Stone wants nothing more than to fix it up and sell. He’ll never stay.”

Nate smiled sadly at her. “You don’t know what a Connor’s capable of. That place’ll crawl beneath his skin soon. You just wait and see.”

“Okay, I’ll wait and see.” Emma knew arguing was futile. She glanced out the window. Osprey and bald eagles dotted the trees that grew from the steep ravines of the Snake River. The rapids were flowing, wild and turbulent, kicking up frothy white water with the vengeance of an angry ocean.

“Did you review the latest Clover report?” Nate said.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and nodded. “It doesn’t look good.”

“Has Stone bothered to dig any deeper into the company?”

“No,” she said. “I think I shocked him when I insisted Clover belonged to me, but we’ll see come the end of December when the investment check is due. He knows my history, Nate.”

“Not surprised. I heard he’d been out to River’s Edge a week or so back. He ‘en Ethan were thicker ‘en thieves growin’ up. Figured Ethan would fill him in. We’re almost there,” Nate exclaimed, his attention diverted from Stone and onto what lay before them.

The truck swung off the main road and headed down a dry, dirt path. It bounced and lurched over pot holes and rocks. Holding the dash for safety, Emma couldn’t help but smile at the boyish anticipation lighting Nate’s face. There’d be plenty of time to discuss Clover and Stone another time. The fact he didn’t seem worried about Stone’s knowledge was a comfort. She’d no desire to ruin this day.

After what felt like an interminable roller coaster ride, the truck stopped before a small log cabin. Emma sighed. It was perfect. The home was situated next to one of the tributaries of the Snake River, and its wrap-around deck invited you to explore its width and visit awhile. The bubbles and gurgles of a quick flowing stream echoed through thickly pined woods.

“It’s beautiful.” She walked across the wooden planks and admired the serenity of Nate’s paradise.

“Thanks, Emmie. Want to see inside?”

She grinned at the use of her childhood nickname and followed him into the cabin. The sparsely furnished rooms spoke loudly of Nate’s inability to lavish any luxury upon himself. After his wife’s death, Margaret explained to Emma that her son simply stopped believing in his worth. Instead, he poured whiskey down his throat and left his child to face life alone.

Stone Connor muddled through years of feeling his father’s wrath and self-deprecation…then escaped. He’d joined the army and never looked back.

Emma guessed the last bit. Being raised within the Connor household meant diverting conversation away from Nate’s son, away from past pain, and away from any topic too difficult to face. She’d become an expert at dodging tense dialogue, sparing feelings and healing wounds with soft words.

Clover Enterprises lay somewhere between tense and healing. At times, many things were best left unsaid.

“Let’s have a quick cup of coffee, Nate, and then you need to take me back to River Run. We’ve a group of guests arriving this afternoon.”

“That’s fine, baby girl. Just sit right there and let me serve you for a change.”

Nate’s okay, she mused. He’s doing just fine.

She wished her own life felt as harmonious.

***

“Where’ve you been?” Stone demanded, pacing the front porch intent on either polishing the wood with his shoes or digging a hole with his heels. She was late. The trip to Nate’s cabin consumed more time than expected.

“Sorry.” Emma scooted past him and entered River Run.

“Okay. I’m sorry I snapped. I need to talk to you about my plan. Guests are due in less than an hour.” He followed her into the kitchen not allowing any room for escape.

“What’s the matter, Stone? Afraid you can’t handle a simple welcome-to-River-Run speech?”

“No.” He handed her a pad of paper. “There’s been a change of plans.”

She took the paper and frowned at his chicken scratch. “I can’t read this.”

“It says they’ve added a guest, an important person and would like to make certain he receives appropriate accommodations.”

“And?”

“It’s Seamus Adams.”

Emma froze. “What?”

Stone held his hands up. “Don’t panic. Actually, I think this is a good opportunity to determine whether he’s a threat or simply here doing what he says he’s been doing. I didn’t discourage the request.”

“There’s no way, Stone. It’s too dangerous.” Emma paced in a tight circle. “I’ll go. I’ll stay with Nate or out at River Edge. You can’t ask me to be in the same room with that man.”

“It’s what I’m asking.”

She exhaled a shaky sigh. “For a second there I thought we were on the same team.”

Emma clearly noticed that Stone bit back a grin. “We are.” He gripped her shoulders gently, rubbing his thumb against the edge of her arm. “Trust me. I’ll protect you. This is a step toward your freedom. There’s just one other slight problem.”

Her emotions were ricocheting in all directions and culminated in a shallow laugh. “What other problem could possibly trump this?”

“The only available suite is mine.”

Emma shrugged and headed into her small cluster of rooms to find some peace and perhaps a Teton sized chunk of bravery. “So? Move.”

“Where to?”

“You’re the boss, you figure it out.” Her indifference didn’t seem to be sitting well with Stone. When she turned to shut her door, she noted his face was flushed a deep crimson. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of his tightly clenched fist.

“I believe then, that I’ll be joining you in your quarters.” He smirked and left her there, open-mouthed and in shock.

He couldn’t stay with her. Could he?

Emma slammed the door and took stock of her little world. Small office to the left, even smaller bedroom to the right, and tiny bathroom in the middle. Surely, he must be joking.

She crossed the miniscule hall and entered her bedroom. Her full sized bed jammed tightly into the corner couldn’t accommodate Stone’s height not that she’d ever entertained any ideas about allowing him access.

“I’m here.” Stone spoke softly over her shoulder, and Emma refused the urge to turn around and smack him. She’d tried assimilating his stealth into her daily routine, but he still managed to scare the lucky charms out of her.

“You can’t stay, Stone.” She turned and blocked his entry into her bedroom. His shaggy mop had been groomed into a relatively tame cut, but there were still strands that insisted on falling over his brow.

“Why not?”

“This is my space.” She stared into his steel blue gaze refusing to back down. Stone dropped his duffel bag, eyed her bed thoughtfully and shrugged.

“No choice, Emma. I’ll be staying here.” The gate bell rang in her office, and his attention quickly switched focus. He walked over to the security monitor and punched a code into the computer. “The closer we are, the safer you’ll be,” he called over his back. “Our guests have arrived. You’ll need to inform the add-on that his room isn’t quite ready. I’ve already snagged Lola, and she’s cleaning as we speak.”

Emma stuck her tongue out and moved gracefully past him and out of the intimate arena. A frustrated sigh escaped, but she focused her attention on the task of welcoming this next slew of vacationers.

“Wait for me,” Stone called quickly catching up and matching his pace to hers.

She cast her eyes up at his face. Sudden anger suffused her entire body. “This is an evil plan.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “Not of my making. But often forces align to show us a window of opportunity.”

“I’m glad you find it easy to play with other people’s lives.”

Stone flinched. “I don’t play.”

“I’m sorry,” She shook her head, mad at herself. The nature of his nightmares testified to a dark story. She hadn’t meant to awaken the memory. Instead, Emma straightened her shoulders, attempted to harvest some courage from the man standing by her side and opened the front door.

“Have you locked Porkahontas up? This crew’s never visited before, and I’d hate to face a lawsuit brought on by an overprotective pig.”

Emma rolled her eyes at him. She hated his teasing of Pocahontas but knew he was lightening a tense moment. He grinned, a wicked light to his eyes. “Don’t laugh,” she said, opening the front door. “She’s gonna slime you but good one of these days if you keep insulting her.”

“Yeah?” He quirked a brow and nudged her shoulder with his. “She loves me, and you know it.”

Emma glared. She much preferred the brooding, injured son persona to this roguish rebel. Whenever he pulled a personality back flip, it made it difficult to hide her feelings. “The Leary’s have overbooked their itinerary even though I pointed out they’d never fit in both Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Park in one day.”

“Hmm, you’ll straighten it out.”

“I always do.” The two of them emerged on the front porch at the same time the long, black limousine pulled up. She marveled at how easily they slipped into their roles.

***

Stone smiled brightly at the invisible people behind the dark tinted glass of the limo. He knew he’d placed both Emma and himself in a precarious position by invading her rooms, but the presence of Seamus Adams demanded drastic action. Even though he’d professed Emma’s safety, Stone wasn’t convinced. His gut screamed Adams knew her identity. This was either a brilliant plan or one he’d regret for eternity.

Four doors opened, spilling eight passengers onto the drive. They climbed over one another intent on absorbing the first view of River Run, talking and pointing and laughing in delight. Stone glanced at Emma. She smiled brilliantly at him, her eyes dancing and face glowing with pride, the twinge of fear only apparent to the most discernible eye. Stone saw it clearly along with a few other aspects that caused him pause.

He knew she loved River Run, but his heart caught when he realized how much. Stone turned quickly away, not wanting to ponder his insight or deal with his reaction.

A tall man, in well-pressed kahki pants and Rugby shirt exited last. He turned and faced the front door.

Stone felt Emma tense. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the steps, beside him. She backed up, he tugged forward and tossed her a warning glance. Panic and fear raged war against her professionalism and it sliced through his chest, almost decapitating his resolve.

Engage the enemy.

Offense is better than defense.

Nothing he could say would help Emma. She must face the man gazing at them curiously. She must greet her mother’s killer.

“I can’t go down there,” she said. Her voice strained to a bare whisper.

“You can do this.” He demanded, hating every inch of his plan.

She stared at him. Her body trembled from head to toe, but he remained impassive. Emma squared her shoulders, tilted her chin up, and turned to greet their guests. A surge of pride rushed through Stone. This was one tough lady.

Reaching Seamus Adams and his entourage, Emma extended her hand and greeted everyone with the professionalism of a polished hostess.

Seamus Adams clasped her hand firmly. The touch of the man who’d swam in her nightmares for the past fifteen years threatened to send her to her knees. She swallowed hard, blocking the image of the last time she’d seen his fingers.

Bloody. Deadly.

Stone walked up and stood behind her, his hand resting protectively upon her lower back. She glanced back, startled by the intimate contact, but he didn’t release her.

“Welcome to River Run, Mr. and Mrs. Adams. I’m pleased you were able to join the Leary party. It might be a few moments before your accommodations are prepared, so please won’t you accept a light lunch in the kitchen?”

“Aaah, Mr. Connor, I presume. I appreciate your quick acknowledgement to our request for a room. I’m house hunting in the area and when John and Linda invited me and the missus to join them, it was an opportunity I didn’t dare pass.”

Stone didn’t miss the covert glances Seamus kept directing at Emma. He focused inward, ignoring the chaotic swell of emotion, and centered himself in a void of nothingness. Because from emptiness came the ability to see the enemy, know the enemy, become the enemy.

Stone leaned forward and grasped the outstretched hand of the man currently headlining his soon-to-be-dead list.

***

Emma hustled in the babbling crowd of tourists. She remained distantly professional to everyone, answering questions, and directing them to their rooms. The Adams’ stayed with Stone while their suite was being prepared.

She felt raw, exposed and vulnerable.

The moment Adams’ pale blue eyes met her face, she’d known the future. The man’s thick Irish brogue sparked memories. He’d not spoken to her as if he knew. But no words were necessary…his presence made his point.

Her identity was no longer a secret.

Inhaling and straightening her shoulders, she walked into the kitchen. The familiar scent of fresh brewed coffee and home baked bread steadied her. Convincing herself the Adams’ were nothing more than another couple looking for an exciting vacation, she plastered a smile on her face. “What can I get for you folks?”

Stone glanced over and nodded.

“Emma, would you mind checking on the itinerary for tomorrow and confirming the times are all correct?”

She opened her mouth to inform Mr. Resort-know-it-all that she’d completed that task three days ago but quickly realized this would be a perfect opportunity to escape and avoid any further contact with Seamus Adams. Stone’s plan.

“Of course, Mr. Connor. I’ll do it right away.” She suppressed the urge to curtsy and make a face at Stone and quickly exited the kitchen.

By the time she reached the office, her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She dropped into the worn leather chair and inhaled sharply. Stone arrived before she’d been provided an opportunity to collect herself.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “No,” she recanted.

Stone kneeled in front of her chair and rubbed her arms. She sighed and tried to allow the comfort he offered to seep in. He stared into her eyes. “You did great.”