Chapter 21
Iris, we have to head back,” Alana said as she stood. “Let’s gather Sophie’s backpack and whatever you need for the night. I can’t leave you here. If Zav—Mr. Hartman—were to find you here, I can guarantee he wouldn’t be pleased.”
Iris froze.
“Look, I have a vacant cabin,” Alana said in her most reassuring tone. “You can stay there until you sort yourself out.”
“It’ll take more than a cabin to sort me out,” Iris said, motioning Alana into the hut.
Alana met Matt’s gaze. He held Sophie back, his hand circling her wrist in a grip that Alana knew was more from caution than from fear.
Inside the hut, hundreds of amber-colored bottles lined makeshift shelves. Herbs and flowers of all sorts hung from the rafters and spread along every available surface. The place was a riot of scent. Why Iris didn’t use any of them to improve her personal hygiene was a mystery that would have to be addressed.
But not right then.
“There’s something you should know,” Iris said as she handed Alana Sophie’s backpack and gathered a few small vials into a cloth bag.
From the way she spoke and held herself, Alana could tell that Iris hadn’t always lived as she was seeing her today. There was a dignity to the woman, poise laced with an air of sadness, that could only come from some great loss.
“I’m sure it can wait until we get back to the ranch. There’s a rescue team searching for Sophie. We need to tell them that she’s safe.”
“I should have suspected that she shouldn’t have been out here for so long,” Iris said.
“She shouldn’t have been here at all. But that’s my concern, not yours,” Alana added.
Matt tried twice to call the ranch office but there was no cell signal. They trooped back to the ranch with Sophie in the lead. She chattered all the way, unaware of the level of chaos she’d set in motion.
When Sophie saw the dogs, the fire trucks and the uniformed deputies, she went saucer-eyed.
Iris stopped in the path, eyeing the semicircle of vehicles, their lights flashing and radios squawking.
“You can wait over there,” Alana said to Iris, indicating the chairs at the entry to the frantoio. A squadron of deputies was probably something a person living on the edge of society never wanted to face. “I’ll come and settle you into the guest cabin after I’ve dealt with the authorities.”
Iris flinched, and for a moment Alana thought she was going to flee.
“It’ll be okay,” Alana said firmly. “You’re on my land now.”
The lines around Iris’s eyes eased, but she didn’t smile. “Thank you,” she said with a shaky voice. “I never meant to be any trouble. Not for anyone.”
Iris had no reason to trust her, but Alana was glad that she did.
“Why don’t you take Sophie over to the craft tent?” Alana suggested to Matt. “It’s shady and there are refreshments.”
She didn’t miss the look in his eyes before they turned toward the tent. There was gratefulness, but under it, something more. Something she hadn’t known she wished for. Something that, if he hadn’t had a kid and she’d had any sort of discipline for reining in her partying ways, she just might have explored.
“We were just sending out the dogs,” the deputy said, interrupting her thoughts. “Glad you found her. Wouldn’t have wanted my dogs to miss their dinner time. They’re downright fussy about that.”
He was trying to make a joke, but Alana wasn’t in a joking mood. That he was trying to make light of the situation didn’t in any way diminish her awareness that her lack of oversight of her own operations had put everyone to so much trouble. Though the deputy was polite in every way, she saw the unspoken judgment in his eyes.
She was grateful when the sheriff and emergency crew readied to leave. Though they’d made it clear they preferred a simple happy ending, she couldn’t swallow down her feeling that her own incompetence had put them all out. She made up her mind right then to review all procedures and policies of the ranch. Every last one of them.
Matt came up beside her, holding Sophie’s hand.
“We’re here to apologize,” Matt said.
“I already apologized to the sheriff and the dogs,” Sophie said, without looking up.
“Hardly necessary. I’m responsible for this mess. I need to get a better handle on the activities of this place,” she admitted. “I never imagined anything like this happening. And I’m so sorry you had to leave your game.”
Sophie screwed up her face in a look of pure misery. “I’m sorry too, Dad. About your game.”
“It’s not your fault, Alana.” Matt put his hand on her arm and squeezed gently. “It’s my kid here who caused a ruckus.” He knelt down to Sophie. “It won’t happen again, will it, Punkin?”
“I already promised.”
“You did. Now tell Alana that you’re sorry.”
“That’s not necessary,” Alana said, kneeling down and cupping Sophie’s shoulders. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Sophie wrapped one arm around Alana’s neck and then circled her other arm around her dad, drawing the three of them into an intimate huddle.
“I am sorry,” Sophie said in a tone so proper it made Alana smile.
“All’s well that ends well,” Matt said in a gentle tone.
Alana felt the heat of him as they knelt there and willed her mind to focus. Just being near him rattled her.
Sophie leaned her head against Matt’s shoulder and let out a shuddering sigh.
Forgiveness. Alana was quick to forgive others but rarely turned such kindness to herself. In that moment, the energy of forgiveness’s freeing power coursed through her, like a calming salve on an open wound. Though the circumstances that had brought the three of them to this sweet moment had been jolting, she wouldn’t have traded the tenderness she felt right then for the sight of the grandest city or the gaudiest gown or the most star-studded party.
Sophie let go of her dad but kept her arm draped around Alana’s shoulders. Matt stood, and Alana felt the warmth of his gaze as he stared down at her and Sophie. He laid his hand on Sophie’s shoulder, a gesture of protection. A gesture of love.
“You could come to my birthday party,” Sophie said, her eyes lighting with the prospect. “I’m going to be seven. Dad promised that we can have a scavenger hunt and we get to have an ice cream cake. But only if we don’t move to Philadelphia. If we move, then you’d have to fly to my party. Do you like Philadelphia?”
The guileless information dump sent a sting of betrayal spiking through Alana. Had Matt even considered mentioning that he was moving? A moment’s reflection told her she had no right to such news—after all, she was the one who’d insisted on keeping the relationship casual, keeping it no-strings.
When had her feelings changed?
But that Matt hadn’t bothered to mention their move hurt. Worse, she felt like a fool for fooling herself.
She rocked back on her heels and unwrapped Sophie’s arm from around her neck. “Philadelphia is probably a good place,” she answered blankly as she stood to face Matt.
“We haven’t decided,” he said, color flushing his face. “It was just a thought.”
She nodded in a gesture meant to convey that what he chose to do or not do was his business, but the dull ache in her chest made her attempt at detachment an outright lie.
A hand wrapped around her waist and pulled at her from behind. “I happen to love the East Coast of America.” Marcel’s smooth baritone preceded his kiss at the nape of her neck. “All those quaint seaside towns.” He squeezed her against his side. “Charming, really.”
A stony light entered Matt’s eyes. His body went board stiff as he drew back from her, like in the old movies when the bad guy froze his victims into pillars of ice or salt.
Marcel had sized Matt up as competition from the start. He’d teased her about Matt on more than one occasion, and each time Alana had made light of it. But hi
s overblown display and kiss was like being peed on by a territorial dog.
“And I love it when things work out with such charm,” Marcel added, before she could introduce him. He swept his free arm toward the departing sheriff. “Now we won’t miss our plane to Paris, darling. There can be absolutely nothing to worry you.” He beamed his lord-of-the-universe smile at Matt. “Your daughter, I presume?”
Usually Alana loved that smile. In the past it had lifted her and made her feel giddy with life. But if she’d been a teakettle, steam would be spouting from her ears. She’d never seen Marcel so fiercely competitive. Or being such a jerk. She wasn’t leaving for Paris until next Wednesday, and Marcel knew it. Plus there was a kid’s heart at stake here, for goodness’ sake. Couldn’t he see that? But maybe he couldn’t. And maybe it surprised her just a bit that she did.
She wriggled free of his hold.
“Marcel Castellane, this is Matt Darrington and yes, this is his daughter, Sophie.”
Sophie shot dagger eyes at Marcel. A month ago Alana would’ve thought Sophie’s exaggerated reaction was funny, but right then she was too aware of Sophie’s feelings to see any humor in her response.
Sophie’s chin began to tremble as tears pooled in her eyes. “I don’t want you to go to Paris. You’re not going, are you?”
As the pooled tears tumbled down Sophie’s cheeks, reality slammed into Alana.
She’d let things go too far.
Neither she nor Matt was moving in a direction good for the kid. And Matt was obviously not in too deep if he was considering moving without even mentioning it. She was just as bad, making plans with Marcel and shying away from commitments. She’d known from the beginning that she might bolt at any moment and head back to Europe, back to the life she’d known there—a life before Nana had died and screwed everything up so horribly.
And maybe she’d been just as foolish and selfish as Marcel was being now. She’d screwed up nearly every interaction involving Sophie. It hadn’t been negligence, not really, but she sure wasn’t anybody’s ideal for a partner in a responsible relationship. Matt would find someone better suited, someone who could be devoted, be with him and care reliably for Sophie twenty-four hours a day, someone cut out for motherhood and who would know exactly what to do in all situations and love every minute of life with a child, even the terror-filled ones.
She had to pull out now—Sophie was way too attached. Catching Sophie up any further in the slipstream of her pursuit of pleasure—maybe even happiness—with Matt was unforgivable.
She took in a breath. And prepared to say what she’d feared she’d have to say ever since the day at the Sausalito docks—to draw the line she hadn’t thought she’d have the spine to draw and hold. Pushing him away was for the greater good, she told herself. The right thing to do, her inner voice whispered. The specific words weren’t important; it was the delivery that needed to be both loud and clear. To all of them.
“I am going to Paris, Sophie.”
Sophie’s face contorted. Alana felt a stab of grief and guilt as Sophie averted her tear-filled eyes.
“And I do think you would love the East Coast,” she added in a strong, falsely cheerful tone. “It’s so lovely there. And you can be near your grandmother.”
To drive the already excruciatingly painful point home, Alana slid her arm around Marcel’s waist and snuggled up against him. That he smiled was even less to his credit.
She’d thought Matt couldn’t stiffen any more, but she’d been wrong. She saw from his tightly held lips that he believed her. Knowing she’d kissed the blood into those lips just a week before made her shiver. So much could change in a week. So much had changed.
“We’re leaving,” Matt said as he circled Sophie’s wrist with his fingers. “I’ll send someone tomorrow to pick up her things.”
“But, Dad—”
“No buts, Punkin. It’s time to go home.”
He held Sophie’s hand and led her away. Then he stopped and turned back.
“Sophie, say goodbye to Alana. We won’t be seeing her again.”
He sure knew how to break a heart.