Sable Peak (The Edens)

“What are you doing with all this lumber?” Griffin asked as he stared at the back of my truck. It was loaded with the two-by-fours and treated posts I’d just picked up from the hardware store in town after lunch.

“Building.” Had I known Griffin would be waiting for me when I got home, I would have come up with a better lie.

“No shit,” he deadpanned. “What are you building?”

“A firepit. Vera likes s’mores.”

His gaze narrowed. “Thought you finished that firepit.”

Yeah, I’d finished it last week. But he didn’t need to know that. “Had an idea for some enhancements.”

“Enhancements.” My brother narrowed his gaze. Like Mom, Griffin had always been good at sniffing out bullshit.

“Enhancements.” If enhancements for the firepit meant a shelter built three miles up the mountain for Vera’s father.

It had been a month since we’d found Cormac at Sable Peak, and not a soul knew he was currently living on Eden Ranch property.

And as risky as this arrangement was, it was what Vera wanted. She needed to see her father. Cormac needed to see his daughter.

He’d looked like hell when we’d found him by the lake. Too thin. Too frazzled. Too hopeless. But just a month of being closer to Vera, he’d put on some weight and even shaved that nasty beard with a razor she’d put in a box of supplies.

If it made her worry less about him, then we’d chance this secret.

Griffin might run the ranch and own a sizeable chunk of the land, but we’d decided the fewer people who knew the truth, the better. We weren’t even telling Vance and Lyla.

Besides, Cormac was on my property. The acreage around this cabin was mine to do with as I pleased, including hide a fugitive.

“Thought you were working on the treehouse today?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I am,” he grumbled. “But that project is turning into a nightmare.”

“It was your idea.”

His mouth pursed into a flat line. “Now you sound like Winn.”

I chuckled. “Would you like some help? Is that why you came up here?”NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

He kicked a rock with his boot. “Yes. Are you busy?”

“Not today.” I smacked him on the shoulder. “Let me call Mom and make sure she’s good to keep Allie for a few more hours.”

“She is.” Griffin smirked. “I already called her.”

I rolled my eyes and, with a smile, grabbed my phone and gloves from the truck. I left the keys on the console before climbing in Griffin’s truck to ride down the mountain to his place.

We spent five hours on the treehouse, finishing the deck’s railings and stairs. By the time we were done, it actually looked like a treehouse.

It had been Griff’s idea to build it for Hudson and Emma. He wanted the kids to have a spot to escape, and what better hideaway than a treehouse in a small evergreen grove off their backyard?

But when the Edens did construction, we didn’t fuck around. He’d spent countless hours researching tabs and braces for the structure, something that would allow the trees to grow and the house to float between them on windy days.

The house had a tin shed roof and the siding was reclaimed barnwood, giving it a rustic look as it blended in with the surroundings.

“Maybe I’ll build one of these for Allie,” I told him as we stood on the ground, surveying our handiwork.

“Good idea. Whenever that is, consider me busy. Ask Knox for help if you need it,” he teased.

I laughed and dug my phone from my pocket when it buzzed.

Picked up Allie & we’re heading home xo

“Vera?” Griff asked.

“Yeah. She’s on her way home.”

“Want to stick around for a beer? Winn mentioned something about grilling burgers. I think Eloise and Jasper were going to come out. Have Vera come here instead.”

“All right. Want me to text Lyla and Talia?”

“Sure. I’ll call Knox.”

That was how all of the impromptu barbeques started with our family. Someone offered a beer. There were usually cheeseburgers. And we were more than family. We were friends.

Mom and Dad declined, wanting a night alone. So my siblings and I invaded Griffin’s house.

Years ago, not long after he’d met Winn, these gatherings would last all night with at least one of us crashing in a guest bed. But now that we all had kids, we were waving good night by eight to head home.

“Did Eloise really date a guy who shoved a cucumber down his pants at the grocery store?” Vera asked as we drove home.

“Yep.” It was one of many stories we’d shared tonight, and I wanted Vera to learn them all. To fit so completely into our family that it filled her heart.

She’d always miss her sisters. But maybe with time, it wouldn’t cut so deep.

She glanced through the rearview mirror at Allie buckled in her car seat.

My daughter’s yawn was loud and long.

“She’s totally going to fall asleep before we get home.” Vera frowned. “But she really needs a bath before bed.”

The kids had all played in the sandbox tonight after dinner. There was dirt streaked on Allie’s face and her legs were dusty.

“Maybe she’ll make it,” I said.

“Not a chance.” Vera was right. When we parked outside of the cabin beside my truck, Allie was sleeping with her head hung forward and her mouth open, her body only upright because of her car seat’s harness. “I hate waking her up.”

“I’ll bring her in. You get the bath started.” I leaned across the cab, dropping a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth, then unbuckled.

Allie whined the minute I hauled her from the car, and when she tried to fall asleep on my shoulder, I jostled her to stay awake.

“Time for a bath.”

“No.” She kicked and squirmed, but I pulled off her shoes as we walked, dropping them on the floor when we were inside. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom.

Vera was kneeling by the tub when we made it to the door.

Allie reached for her. “Ve-wa.”

“Mommy,” I corrected, my voice low enough that Vera couldn’t hear with the water sloshing. The days of Ve-wa were gone. “That’s Mommy.”

Allie rested her head against my shoulder, her dark little eyebrows coming together. “Mommy.”

It clicked, faster than I thought it would. Probably because my girl, even at two, was smart. She knew how lucky we were to have Vera in our lives.

Someday, I’d tell her about Madison. When she was older and I knew what to say, I’d explain that Vera wasn’t her biological mother. But in every other way, in every way that mattered, Vera was her mother.

With a kiss on Allie’s forehead, I set her down and started stripping off her clothes.

“Ready?” Vera opened her arms, picking up Allie to set her in the tub. The water was still running, bubbles still building.

Allie was groggy, her eyes heavy. When Vera picked up the cup to fill it with water for her hair, Allie simply tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

I leaned against the doorframe and dug my phone from my pocket, taking a quick picture of them together. Then I found a towel and got the lotion from the counter, both at the ready when bath time was over. Vera had Allie washed and the drain pulled when I brought in a clean diaper and pajamas.

“I’ll take her,” I said after Allie’s hair was combed.

“Okay.” Vera stood on her toes to kiss my cheek, then slipped past us for the living room while I carried our daughter to her bed.

Five minutes later, with Allie already asleep, Vera was standing in the open front door, staring into the night.

“Your truck is gone.”

I wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on her head. “He’ll bring it back.”

“Tonight’s note.” She held up a slip of paper that had been folded in half. It was the receipt from my lumber order. “It’s for you.”

I snagged it. My name was scratched on the front. When I flipped it open, in the upper corner was a single word.

Good.

I grinned and crumpled the paper.

These notes were how we communicated with Cormac. Vera would leave a note for him every day beneath a rock tucked under the front porch with a pen. He’d slip in at night beneath the cover of darkness, read it and write her back.

Sometimes he missed a day or two. But for the most part, she was able to communicate with her father every day. And if he needed something, he’d leave a list.

Last week, it had been for lumber.

Tonight, he’d drive my truck to the end of a two-lane, dead-end road that no one had used for years. From there, he’d unload the boards and carry each piece over two miles to the small hut he was building.

The location was remote enough that a random hiker wouldn’t stumble upon his place. The spot he’d chosen was backed up against a rock cliff, and the only way to access the land was from the ranch.

Since I had no intention of letting anyone on my private property, Cormac should be safe. At least for the time being.

The arrangement was new. Nerves were running high and he’d refused to let Vera or myself come to his shelter more than once. That visit had been simply so we’d know where to find him, but he’d given explicit instructions for us to stay away.

Beyond that, he’d only seen Vera once since we’d found him at the lake. He’d snuck down in the dead of night a couple weeks ago, and they’d sat at the firepit and talked for an hour.

Cormac had told her about Yosemite. He’d gone there right after Vera had left with Vance. He’d planned to get away and give her some distance, knowing the media and authorities would be in a frenzy for a girl believed dead but found alive.

He’d wanted to be as far away from Idaho and Montana as he could manage in a short time, so rather than risk crossing the border to Canada, he’d headed south. As I’d guessed, he’d left the pack behind intentionally, hoping someone would find it, presume he was dead and give him a break.

Maybe that ploy would have worked on the former FBI agent assigned to Cormac’s case. Unfortunately for us all, Swenson was a serious pain in the ass.

When Vera had told Cormac about Swenson, it had spooked Cormac enough that he insisted on limited contact. Notes only.

Hopefully in time, we could all relax. Not entirely. But a little.

Agent Swenson had left Montana after he’d ambushed Vera in the hotel lobby. With luck, we’d never see him again, but I had a hunch he’d be back.

My theory was that Swenson would poke around every so often, breezing in and out of Quincy like he owned the town, simply to ruffle Vera’s feathers—the asshole.

So far, his visits had been tame. But I suspected if she gave him even an inkling that she was in contact with Cormac, Swenson would become more diligent. Maybe he’d start coming to the house. Following her around.

We were going to do our best not to give him that inkling.

Even if that meant Vera communicated with her father in scribbles.

“I don’t understand this note,” Vera said. “What did you write him?”

“That I was going to marry you.”

She jerked in my arms, her head whipping up to mine. “W-what?”

I shifted to dig in my pocket and pull out the ring I’d hidden in Allie’s toy box. Taking her hand in mine, I slipped it on her ring finger. “It was Mom’s.”

Vera’s hand trembled as she stared at the solitaire diamond. It wasn’t big. It wasn’t flashy. Just a simple jewel on a golden band.

“Dad upgraded her ring for their ten-year anniversary. When I told her I was marrying you, she gave me this. She won’t be offended if you don’t like—”

“I love it.” She twisted in my arms.

“I love you.” I framed her face in my hands, dropping a kiss to her mouth.

“You’re really asking me to marry you?”

“There’s no question here, Peach. We’re getting married.”

“And you call me stubborn.”

I winked. “Would it make you feel better if you said yes?”

“Does it mean something when you wink?”

I’d been winking at Vera for years. It meant something. It always had. “What do you think?”

The light danced in those pretty eyes as she launched herself into my arms. Then she leaned in close, her mouth hovering over mine with a smile. “I think yes.”