The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (39 page)

Once he had the ATV on the ground, he straightened and stared toward the wide path winding through the rugged landscape. An overwhelming sense of foreboding brought sweat to his brow. Paige’s arms came around his waist, and she pressed herself into his back. He placed his hands over hers. “I feel like I’m walking to my doom.”

“You suffered a horrible trauma here. What you feel is normal under the circumstances.”

“Why, thank you, Dr. Langford.” He grunted. “The sooner I get this over with, the better.”

“Think about Theresa and how things were before that day.” She retrieved the helmets from the back and handed him one. “Fill your mind with the happy memories.”

He tried—and failed. Instead, his mind conjured the way he’d found her after the accident, her head split and her neck turned into an impossible position. A shudder racked his body, and he sucked in a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to do this.” Once again, her arms came around him, offering comfort and strength.

“I know.” He hugged her to him. “I don’t have to, but I want to.” He climbed onto the four-wheeler, started the engine, and waited for Paige to settle herself behind him. “Hold on to my waist.”

He took it slow, retracing the route he and Theresa had taken that day.

“It’s pretty through here,” Paige remarked.

“Yeah, it is.” Trying to see it through her eyes, he scanned the area. “When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time here with my brothers and sister. Once our chores were done, we’d ride our horses or ATVs through these hills.” He grinned as memories swamped him. “We used to play outlaw and posse, stuff like that.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Do you ride, darlin’?”

“Sure. I went through a horse phase, and my parents got me lessons. I learned English style, though.”

“It’s not that different.” Someday he’d take her riding. Maybe. Stopping the four-wheeler, he pointed. “There’s the ponderosa pine that split.” He stared at the charred remains of the dead half of the pine, memories flowing through him. Paige’s hands on his shoulders kept him centered. “Not far now.”

They continued on, and the forest went quiet, as if the hills themselves were holding their breath, waiting. He rounded the bend, tension banding his chest. The boulders bordering the ravine came into view. The closer they got, the harder it was to breathe. His hands shook as he parked the four-wheeler and took off his helmet. His focus turned inward, he approached the place where his life had come crashing down around him.

Paige was beside him, but he couldn’t reach for her to save his life. His eyes riveted on the spot, he searched for evidence of the terrible accident that had changed his life forever. There was none. Theresa was gone forever, her life cut short by tragedy, and the Antelope Hills held no trace of her. The land had let her go, and it was time he did the same. Paige’s hand slipped into his.

Ryan closed his eyes and swallowed. “I don’t know what I expected. I thought her blood would stain the granite—or at least I’d be able to see something from that day.” Instead, he was surrounded with the natural beauty of the area, the ruggedness of the pines growing among the boulders overlooking the river. He caught a glimpse of a hawk riding an air current, heard birdcalls echoing through the woods, and sucked in the pine-scented air. Peaceful. Paige squeezed his hand, and he turned to steady himself. “There’s something I have to do.”

“Can I help?”

“You already have.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his suicide letter, the photo of Theresa he’d carried everywhere, and a book of matches. Moving to the edge of the ravine, he crouched down and set the letter on fire, watching as it burned to ash. “Theresa, I’ll always love you, but it’s time to let you go. I need to move on, sweetheart, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Tears filled his eyes as happier memories of their time together played through his mind. He held her photo in front of him, traced the image, and said good-bye. Lifting a stone, he placed the picture underneath and stood up. “Rest in peace.”

His phone rang. He pulled it from his back pocket and checked the caller ID: Unavailable. “Hello?” Static filled his ear, and a tingling sensation started at the top of his scalp and moved down, like a hand running over his scalp. A chill snaked down his spine, and he ended the call. The phone started ringing again, with the same Unavailable message showing on the caller ID. Goose bumps rose on his arms, and all the fine hairs at the back of his neck stood straight up. “Weird.” He ended the call.

“What is it?” Paige came to stand beside him.

“The night your brother called, I was very close to ending my life. I got two calls that night. I didn’t answer the first, and the second came from Noah. I asked him why he called back a second time that night, and he said he only called once.” He shook his head. “This is going to sound crazy, but—”

“You believe Theresa was reaching out to you, trying to stop you from taking your life?”

“Crazy, huh?” He stared out over the ravine, a deep peace settling his nerves. “The caller ID just now said Unavailable,
and there wasn’t anyone there. Twice. I got goose bumps all over when I answered.”

Paige slipped her arms around his waist. “She’s saying goodbye, letting you go with her blessing.”

“More likely a wrong number and a poor signal.” He drew her in for a kiss. Though he might say that out loud, in his heart he agreed. Theresa had let him go, and he held his future in his arms. His heart was full, and he was well on the way to becoming whole. “Want to go exploring with the ATV?”

“Not today. Your mom needs help with the party stuff. We can come back tomorrow—with horses. I’m a good rider, Ryan. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He laughed. “I love the way you tell me exactly what you want and what you think, babe. I love you.”

“That stupid grin you’re wearing is getting on my last nerve.” Ted glared at Ryan as he slid into his chair for their Tuesday-morning staff meeting. He set a mug of coffee on the table in front of him. “Only the good coffee makes it bearable.”

“Tough. Get used to it.” Ryan shot him an extra-wide dumbass grin as Noah took his usual place in the corner. Lord, it was good to be home, even better to have Paige beside him.

“Can we get started?” Bossy Paige handed out sheets of paper with the outline for their five-year plan. “Once the new line launches, we’re going to need additional help. What I’m suggesting is that we add a second shift and hire them as finishers. It’s not too difficult to train someone to sand, stain, and varnish, is it?”

“No. It’s doable.” Noah scanned her outline.

“Training a crew of finishers would free you three up to increase production, while still maintaining our commitment to handcrafting each piece. Allow employees to work their way into production with a nice raise if they want to.” Her gaze turned to Ted. “Within three years, you’re going to have your hands full with administrative duties. Eventually, you’ll have to quit production and go full-time admin.” She turned to Noah. “You’ll be in charge of the crew, training, and production. We’re hiring veterans to stay true to our mission, and you’re a natural-born leader.”

Noah’s eyes widened. “Is that how you see me?”

“It’s how we all see you, bro.” Ryan nodded. “Even if Paige hadn’t written it down on that piece of paper, the guys would naturally gravitate to you for direction,
Lieutenant
.” A wave of gratitude nearly bowled over Ryan. The man had saved his life, pure and simple.

Paige brought them back to task. “Another incentive for our future employees would be giving them the opportunity to come up with ideas for new products. Offer a bonus for pieces we use. Ryan, you’ll head up the new design department, which will include advertising. That reminds me, we ought to enter some pieces in crafters’ competitions or juried artisan shows. That would be another way to get exposure.”

“We have
departments
?” Ted’s eyes widened.

“We do now. Are you OK with going into admin, Ted? Will you miss production?”

“I’m fine with it as long as I can drop back in whenever needed.”

“That’ll work.” She smiled. “I want to have a retail venue in Evansville within five years. Does everyone agree to that?” Her gaze went around the table.

“Sounds great,” Noah replied. “Ted?”

“I’m all for it.”

Ryan turned to face Noah. “One other thing—Paige and I would like to fix up the apartment on the third floor, bring it up-to-code and up-to-date. The carriage house is too small for the two of us, and we’d like to rent the space here. For cheap.”

Noah scowled his way. “You want to shack up with my baby sister?”

“Noah…” Paige’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

“No. I’m going to marry your baby sister, and we can’t afford a house yet because we don’t make squat working here.”

Noah laughed, rose from his chair, and offered Ryan his hand. “That’s good, because I didn’t really want to beat the shit out of you.”

Ryan took his hand in his. “Like you could.”

Noah grinned. “Sure. Let’s fix the place up. I’ll help.”

“Congratulations, you two.” Ted shot him a shuttered look. “I’m happy for you both.”

“You’ll be fine, kid.” Ryan sat back down. “You do realize what has happened, don’t you?”

Noah’s brow creased. “What’s that?”

“Your sister just took over the family business.” Ryan grinned, surveying the two men he’d come to care so much about. But it wasn’t only the business. Paige had taken over his heart, and though he had a long way to go before he was back on the right side of normal, he had a future.

Read on for a sneak peek of Barbara Longley’s next novel set in Perfect, Indiana.

A C
HANGE OF
H
EART

Available October 2013 on
Amazon.com

“C
ORY, BABY
.” H
ER MOTHER KNOCKED
on her door. “Brenda Holt is here to see you.”

“Tell her I’m not feeling well.” She couldn’t face anyone. Not now. She pulled the bedspread over her head.

The door creaked open. “I’m not leavin’ this room until you agree to come on out and say hello. Brenda made the effort to visit. Now you’re gonna make the effort to haul your butt outta that bed. You hear?”

She knew that tone. When Claire Marcel made up her mind, nothing could sway her. “Fine.” She threw off the covers and sat up. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Good. We’ll be in the livin’ room.”

The door shut, and Cory dragged herself out of bed to the army-issue duffel bag on the floor. She found an almost clean pair of sweats and pulled them on.

She walked down the hall to the shabby living room. The two sat on the couch, huddled over her mother’s scrapbook of the media frenzy surrounding Cory’s court case. Her stomach hit the dirt.
Dammit
. How could she show that to anyone? Why would she want to? Bile burned the back of her throat, and she turned around and headed back to her room.

“There you are,” her mother called. “I was just telling Brenda how proud I am of you.”

“Hey, Cory.” Brenda took the scrapbook from her mother’s hands and set it aside. “It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Outside?” Her heart raced, and dread spread like an oil spill in her chest.

“Unless you want to walk up and down the hall here.” Brenda’s expression filled with sympathy, and something else. Concern? “Let’s go to the playground like we used to.”

“What’s it like out there?” Cory bit her lower lip, assessing the risk.

Brenda raised a single arched eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“No, it’s more a weather question.” She averted her gaze and swallowed hard. Brenda must have thought she’d gone mental.

“It’s like a typical June day in southern Indiana. The sun’s out. It’s hot, and you’re way overdressed.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She slipped her feet into an old pair of flip-flops by the door and walked beside Brenda toward the old rusty playground where they’d spent countless hours as kids.

The slide had taken on a pronounced tilt to the right, and the heavy steel frame of the swing set had more rust than she remembered, but otherwise, nothing had changed.

“Your mom is proud of you. We all are.” Brenda glanced at her.

“Can we talk about something else?” Cory’s empty stomach churned, and she studied the stunted grass growing around the bare dirt under her feet. “What are you doing these days? Last time we talked, you were in school.”

“Sure.” Brenda sent her swing into motion. “I graduated from cosmetology college, and I work in a really nice salon in
town now. I’m doing OK for myself.” She planted her feet to stop the swing. “Did you hear Wesley’s home? He retired.”

“No, I hadn’t heard.” Her eyes widened. “We were just little kids when he joined the marines.” She shook her head. “Has it been twenty years already?”

“Yeah. We were seven when he left. Which leads me to my next question. What are you going to do now that your case is behind you?”

“It’s not
behind me
.” Hot, angry tears filled her eyes once again at the ultimate betrayal of her loyalty and trust. “The Veteran’s Legal Clinic is working on getting disability benefits for me.”