Always on My Mind (28 page)

“I don’t mind,” Casper started.

“You’ve spent almost two years rebuilding this place. It’s just as much yours as it is mine now. You can’t abandon it.”

Outside, the sun finally escaped the swaddle of clouds, and water dripped from the jagged icicles hanging from the roof.

“I’m not abandoning it, Dad. Casper will check the cabins, and you and Mom can take any calls to the office
 
—it’s only for two weeks.”

“Two weeks, and the thaw is just beginning. Who knows but we’ll have flooding or icefall on the roofs or even sewer problems. That’s what running a resort is all about, Darek
 
—sticking around in case
 
—”

“I’m useless here!”

Casper stared at Darek, who had pushed his plate away, shaking the table. Even Ivy frowned at him.

He exhaled hard, hauled in his voice to a low, schooled volume.
“Sorry. Listen. Ivy will be fine. I’m leaving as soon as I can, Monday morning. Casper, I’ll make sure you have an exhaustive list,
in case
the world falls in.”

He got up, heading to the office.

Casper studied Ivy’s face as she watched him go, trying to interpret her expression.

“He’s a good man,” Ivy said, directing her words to John. “He’s just overwhelmed with the baby and Tiger’s issues at school and now the resort. He’ll work it out.” She folded her napkin, tucked it under her plate. Worked herself to her feet. “I’ll get Tiger
 
—”

Amelia touched her arm. “Sit, Ivy. Eat your lunch. I’ll come over after work and help with Tiger. Darek is a great brother
 
—the best. I know he’ll figure it out.”

But Casper had found his feet almost without realizing it. “Not like this.”

He tracked down Darek at the desk, booting up the computer.

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

Confusion creased Darek’s brow. “No. In fact, it’s the first sane idea I’ve had in years. I probably should have done this after the resort burned, realized the place had seen its last heyday. Should have figured out that I needed to get a real job
 
—”

“Oh yeah, I’m here to testify that a real job is
just
what you need.” Casper shook his head. “Dude, do you have any idea what it feels like to spend your day trying to find angry women a size 8.5 wide Keens?”

Again, confusion.

“Trust me on this, you’ve got a good gig going here. Ivy and Tiger, a job building on what Mom and Dad built
 
—”

Darek stood and rounded on him. “And what
you
don’t get is that I’m failing at it. How would you like that on your
shoulders
 
—the brother who brought down seventy-five years of family legacy?”

“I get it
 
—I know what it feels like to leave a scar on the family tree. But running isn’t the answer.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Exactly. That’s why you need to listen to me. I wish more than you can know that I’d stuck around, that I’d forgiven Raina last summer. That when Owen showed up, I didn’t let my pride destroy any hope I had with the woman I love.”

Oh. Casper hadn’t meant to let his voice thunder, to hear it echo into the rest of the house.

Darek stilled. “I thought we talked about this. I thought you were trying to get over her.”

“I am. I was . . .” Casper tunneled his hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. “I can’t. And frankly, I don’t even think I want to.”

He walked over to the window. Pressed his hand against the cold pane. “We’re good together. When I’m with her, I feel like I’m not the second choice, even though I’m probably just fooling myself.”

“What are you talking about? Second choice?”

“Oh, c’mon, Darek. I’m not Dad’s first choice for this resort and clearly wasn’t Raina’s first choice of brothers. Even now, she chose someone else. But for some reason, I forget that when I’m with her. She makes me believe that I can . . .” He shook his head because
find the lost treasure
sounded so lame. “She makes me feel like I’m not a failure.”

Nothing from Darek’s side of the room, but he didn’t expect it. Not with Darek looking at the same visage in the mirror.

“And to grind salt into my wounds, she’s dating Monte Riggs, of all people.”

“You make it sound like she’s dating Satan,” Darek said.

“She is. I swear it. He looks at her like he owns her.”

“So why don’t you do something about it? It’s not like she has a ring on her finger, right?”

Casper considered him. “Seriously?”

Darek lifted a shoulder.

“For one second, track back with me to Owen. And our fight. Now picture Raina and me together. Can you imagine
that
family Christmas dinner?”

“Seems to me that you don’t owe Owen anything.”

But he did. Or Raina did. Maybe more than anything else, the ever-present agony of the secret, burning deep inside them, would be enough to drive them apart.

He’d always believe Owen deserved to know the truth. And she’d always consign him to secrecy, to betrayal.

Casper turned to stare out the window overlooking the resort, the cabins, and the glistening, melting snow. “I think as soon as you get back, I’m leaving. This time for good.”

The words simply slipped out from where they’d been hibernating in his thoughts. Now he saw them, knew the decision had been fermenting for weeks. He couldn’t stick around and watch Raina make one disastrous decision after another. “I don’t know what else to do. What do you do when the person you love doesn’t love you back?”

“That depends. Is your love dependent on her love for you? Or not?”

Casper startled at his father’s voice behind him. Darek shrugged, like,
Sorry, dude; I didn’t realize he’d walked in.

John stood at the door, one hand on the knob. He closed it behind him. Looked at his sons, first Casper, then Darek. “Sit down, boys.”

Oh. It was one of those moments. Casper lowered himself onto the chair. Darek folded his arms, leaning against the desk.

“I’ve just been remembering . . . You might not know that I never wanted this resort.” John pulled out the desk chair, sat on it. “When I was a teenager, the last thing I wanted to do was return to the postage stamp–size town of Deep Haven and run my dad’s place.”

Casper glanced at Darek, who frowned.

“I even told him so
 
—right out there on the lake. I told him I didn’t want his resort, that I had a bigger life planned. And then I left to play football at the University of Minnesota. Even after I graduated and didn’t get drafted, I refused to come home. I played arena ball of all things, refusing my father’s phone calls until it was too late. He died during one of my games. I never said good-bye.”

Darek’s jaw tightened.

Casper looked down at his hands, his throat thick.

“I came home, and after the funeral, I found that old canoe I keep tied up at the dock. Dad and I made it together, and I took the canoe out onto the water and wept. I felt sick with my own regret, my own selfishness. And then I remembered the last time we’d taken out the canoe
 
—the very day I’d told him that I’d never run this place. He sat in the bow of the canoe, not arguing with me, but humming.”

John began to hum, and Casper’s memory picked up the tune, the words.
“O Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds Thy hands have made . . .”

“It was my dad’s favorite song. He’d sing it when we went fishing and while he was nailing down roof tiles and shoveling and
cutting firewood.” John’s low, dependable tenor voice broke out. “‘When through the woods and forest glades I wander and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees, when I look down from lofty mountain grandeur and hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze . . .’”

He paused, letting them fill in the rest.
“How great Thou art! How great Thou art!”
His gaze fell on Darek. “My dad told me, after I’d spurned everything he wanted to give me, ‘I have no doubt you’ll be a success at whatever you do.’ I had no idea that he was giving me a glimpse of success in the humming of his song.”

He looked at Casper then. “See, I was my own worst enemy back then. My pride told me I deserved better. A bigger life. But my dad figured it out
 
—there is no life bigger than the one lived, every day, in awe of God. God showing up in our lives to love us despite ourselves. That is a treasure we can find every single day.”

Casper frowned, glanced at Darek.

John got up and put his hand on his oldest son’s shoulder. “Darek, there are many different definitions of success. I’m not sure that any of them are stamped with the Evergreen Resort logo. I’m sorry if I made you believe otherwise.”

Darek unfolded his arms, his expression slackening.

Casper looked up to find his father’s gaze on him. Solid, kind. “How do you keep loving someone who doesn’t love you back? Like Jesus did, Son. Faithfully praying, faithfully abiding, faithfully loving anyway.”

“Hey, I gave him that advice,” Darek said, nodding, a slight grin creeping up his face.

Casper rolled his eyes. “Thank you both, but you don’t understand. I am praying
 
—all the time. And it hurts more every day because my prayers are accomplishing
nothing
. I can’t fix her. I
can’t save her. I just have to stand by and watch. I wish she could see that she’s going to really get hurt.”

“You don’t think Jesus sees our choices, our decisions, and wants to run out in front of us with semaphores?” John said. “He does, in fact, warn us over and over of the ways we’re destroying ourselves. But we don’t listen. And what does love do? Forgives. Comforts. Protects. Saves. Renews.
Loves.
”

John moved toward the door. “If what we call love doesn’t take us beyond ourselves, require more of us than we ever dreamed, then it’s not the unconditional, divine love God intends for us. God’s love is not cautious, not wise, not sensible, and not remotely conservative. In fact, loving another person the way God loves them is the greatest adventure we can have.” He winked at Casper. “The greatest treasure you can find.”

His eyes seemed to glisten. “I am thankful I raised better sons than I was. I believe in you both, and I know you’re good men. I’m very proud of you.”

John gave Darek a nod. “Stay safe, Son.” Then he looked at Casper. “And you, be wise. You can be your own worst enemy sometimes. Maybe it’s time to get out of the way and let God be in charge of your heart.”

Then he walked out the door.

R
AINA WORE THE BLACK DRESS
to her appointment at the courthouse. Finally it fit her.

She’d lost her appetite three days ago. Somehow the physical ache served to distract her from the howl inside, the one that cracked free every time she thought of the finality.

Good-bye.

This was crazy. She’d already made the decision two months ago. Already accepted the wounds, the scars. Now, with Monte’s supposed upcoming proposal, her mind lay in knots. She should have signed Layla over a month ago instead of waiting. She thought it would get easier
 
—it only turned the act excruciating.

As Raina walked into the courthouse and found her way to the county attorney’s office to sign the paperwork, every step seemed to revive Layla’s tiny cry, tucked away in her memory.

She wrapped her hand around the railing, forcing herself up the stairs.

How, really, did a mother separate herself in two pieces and give the best part of herself away? Forever?

She found the office, breathing through the burning in her chest, and knocked.

“Raina, good, you’re here.”

“Dori
 
—what are you doing here?” She hadn’t expected her adoption coordinator in person. Dori once again wore the green jacket, this time with a short black-and-white wool skirt, and looked younger than a person who talked people into life decisions should.

“I came because we have a new development in your case,” Dori said. She opened the door wider, and Raina recognized Ivy
 
—a very pregnant Ivy Christiansen
 
—sitting at her desk.

Oh. No. She hadn’t considered, when she asked to have her case moved here, that Ivy, Casper’s
 
—
Owen’s
 
—sister-in-law, might be the one to do the paperwork.

She stood there stricken.

“Don’t worry, Raina,” Ivy said, waving her in. “I’m bound by confidentiality.”

Raina tried to read her expression, found it enigmatic. Judgment? Compassion?

Dori gestured her to a chair and shut the door.

Ivy sat behind a desk that overlooked the harbor, sunlight cascading through the window onto her desk, piled with files, a laptop on the pullout arm. She shifted as if trying to make herself more comfortable.

Yeah, Raina well remembered those days.

The balmy day
 
—a temporary and unseasonable forty-two
 
—had
left the air soggy. She’d talked herself into needing the cool, spring-sweet air, but now sweat slicked down Raina’s back from her walk to the courthouse.

“Is everything okay with . . . the baby?”

Dori sat down. “She’s fine. Healthy. But her adoptive parents . . . Well, there’s a new development. The mother is pregnant.”

“What?”

“This happens occasionally
 
—somehow, with the adoption, the pressure of conceiving seems to be lessened, and parents inexplicably find themselves expecting.”

“But . . . I don’t understand. She’s pregnant? How does that affect . . . ?” She might as well say it. “Layla.”

Dori didn’t even seem to blink at her name. “The mother is very ill. She’s bedridden and on medication. But she’s nearly three months along, and the baby is still alive and growing. Unfortunately, they’ve decided that they would rather decline the adoption in favor of preparing for the birth of their own child.”

But Layla was supposed to be their own child.

Except, no, she wasn’t. Layla was
Raina’s
child.

Her child. “What . . . what happens now?”

Dori glanced at Ivy, back to Raina. “It’s up to you. We can put Layla in the system. I have no doubt we’ll find new adoptive parents for her. She’s a wonderful baby.”

“Or . . . you can keep her,” Ivy said, leaning forward. She wore a strange smile, her eyes bright. “You can raise her yourself.”

Raina had no words, nothing for the feeling of relief inside her as the knot in her chest loosened, as the long-accustomed ache released.

Except . . . “I don’t know. I mean, I haven’t prepared for . . .”

Only, maybe she had. In fact, until January, she’d held on to the
feeble, tenuous hope that Casper might return, that somehow he’d forgive her. Crazily hoped that they’d scrabble past the wounds, betrayals, and fears of the past nine months and come out the other side, a family.

Which meant that yes, she’d thought about being a mother. Longed for it, in the place she refused to voice.

“When do I have to decide?”

Dori caught her hand. “Take a few days. But soon. They are delivering her to the home tomorrow, and we’ll place her with a temporary family. But we have other parents who might be a good fit.”

Other parents.

The thought could unravel her. She looked at Ivy. “Please don’t
 
—”

“This is all confidential,” she said, but a question remained in her eyes.

“The baby is Owen’s,” Raina said quietly.

“Oh.” Ivy’s eyes widened. But then she nodded, saying nothing.

Raina got up. “I’ll call you with my decision,” she said to Dori and walked from the office, her thoughts ahead of her, down the road to her daughter in her arms, a hand clasped around her finger, her tiny body curled into Raina’s embrace. She saw a little girl with black pigtails chasing seagulls on Deep Haven’s rocky shoreline, laughing as her mother pushed her on the swing set. She saw her tucked on the sofa, reading one of the Frances books, and making cupcakes and . . .

Swinging up into her daddy’s arms. Only, the image that swept through her mind had dark hair, blue eyes. Not Owen. Not even Monte . . .

Raina stood in the middle of the sidewalk, her cheeks wet, her throat hollow.

Oh, she still loved him, and denying it only turned her inside out, made her moan.

She shoved her hands into her pockets and headed toward the harbor, water running under the snowpack along the gutters.

It didn’t matter how much she longed for Casper. They had too much between them, and her silly daydream had no happy ending.

Still, she wanted to call him. Needed to talk to him. Just . . . as a friend, of course. Because despite everything, he’d been kind to her. Light, in a way that pierced her dark heart.

Yet what, exactly, would she say? He’d demand she tell Owen and . . .

What about Monte? He’d said he wanted a future with her. She tried to fit him into the picture like a puzzle piece.

The sun hung bright, the sky so blue she could drink it in, the snow crispy and fragile, melting, the scent of woodsmoke lingering in the air from the nearby fish house. She stopped in at the Java Cup, bought a latte, and took it outside.

Clarity. She just needed someone to tell her what to do.

If Liza were here, she’d know. Her aunt always mustered up the right answer, tapped into her deep faith, her unwavering assurance that God had a plan.

Maybe He did for people like Liza. But not for people like Raina who kept making one bad decision after the next.

Maybe she wasn’t selfish
 
—just afraid. After all, others might have God, but she had no one but herself to depend on.

Except what about Thor’s words?
“A small life is lived by staring inward, but a large one is lived by diving into God’s love.”

And sitting alone on the bench now, the lake water breaking free from the clasp of ice and washing debris to shore, what choice
did she have? She lifted her face to the wind like Thor.
God, if You’re up there . . . if You care in the least about Layla . . . help me know what to do.

Raina waited.

Silence.

It was a silly prayer, and she didn’t harbor the faintest hope God would really hear her. Or answer. She took a sip of her latte and remembered her outburst to Casper right after Layla’s birth.
But God
 
—no, He doesn’t love me. God doesn’t even notice me. I am
nothing
to Him.

She’d pegged that right.

Raina watched the shadow of a tanker drift along the horizon. Took another sip of coffee, listening to traffic, the ruckus of the water churning the ice on shore. And the expected silence from the heavens.

“Raina, are you okay?”

She turned and her brain reeled as Casper’s shadow fell over her. With his hands tucked into his down-jacket pockets, he stood, wearing jeans and hiking boots as if he might be headed out for a trek in the woods.

She blinked at him. Opened her mouth.

“I was driving by and saw you sitting here and . . . You looked like you needed a friend.”

She closed her mouth, swallowed as unexpected tears filled her eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, moving onto the bench beside her. “What’s the matter?”

Oh, she couldn’t . . . Not really. Because she might think she needed to talk to him, but actually speaking the words of her failure out loud to Casper
 
—no. She shook her head.

He slid his arm behind her, turning toward her. She looked down, picking at the coffee cozy, seeing him out of the corner of her eye.

He wore a loose stocking cap, his curls long and tantalizing, worry in his blue eyes. Just his presence beside her made her want to lean into him.

She looked out at the harbor, blinking hard against the sunshine and the fragrant springlike breeze, trying to scrounge up words.

As usual, he saved her. “Listen, I don’t know if you’re in the mood, but I’m heading to Mineral Springs.” He gestured behind her to his truck, a snowmobile propped in the back. “I downloaded a map of the area, and I thought maybe it would be interesting to check out where Aggie and Thor lived.”

He made a wry face. “I know it’s probably stupid, but I’ve been thinking about your question
 
—why would she end up with Thor when she believed Duncan offered her everything?” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe it’s because, despite what Duncan could offer her, she longed for something bigger, the grand adventure of true love.”

Raina nodded, hungry for his truth.

“And Thor’s letter, the line that mentions the truth about Duncan . . . I think Aggie ran away with Thor on her wedding day
 
—we did find that dress in the Mineral Springs collection. And if she did, maybe Duncan came after her,” Casper said.

“But what does that have to do with the bonds?”

“If Duncan stole them from Aggie’s father, maybe he had them with him. Once she was married, all her worldly goods would pass to him. Who knows what nefarious plans he’d made? What if . . . ?”

Something . . . a memory pressed against her. Or maybe just her crazy dream, but
 
—

“What if Aggie found them and took them?” she finished. “Duncan would surely go after her. Maybe that’s why he and Thor fought?”

Oh, she liked it when they brainstormed ideas, when she ignited that fire in his eyes.

“Right. And maybe afterward, Thor took the bonds and hid them.”

“But why?”

“To protect her? To keep someone from looking her direction?”

She frowned. “Where would he hide them? Mineral Springs?”

“At their old store?”

“I like it.” More than she wanted to admit. Because right now, just right now, she couldn’t think another moment about her future. About the choices before her.

Just for this moment, she didn’t want to be afraid. She wanted to stop looking at herself and look ahead. To live large.

“Enough to take a drive?”

She took a breath, feeling the sunshine on her face, the fresh air in her lungs. “You just can’t let this treasure hunt go, can you?”

His smile dimmed for a second. Then he shrugged. “Not if there’s the slightest chance . . .”

That, probably more than anything, was what she longed for. Hope. “Let’s go treasure hunting, Sherlock.”

“Give me a kiss, Son. I won’t see you when you get out of school.”

Darek stood at the door, holding it open as Tiger climbed out of the truck. A caravan of other vehicles
 
—parents dropping their kids off at the Deep Haven elementary
 
—lined up behind him.

He bent down to wrap Tiger in a hug, but his son put a hand on his shoulder, pushed, turning his face away.