Authors: Michelle Major
She gripped her father’s hand harder when he tried to pull away. “No, thanks. I’m having lunch with my dad today. If any of the
girls
want to say hello, we’ll be sitting outside the kitchen.”
“The kitchen? In this heat?” Remmie’s eyes filled with disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Kendall took a step away then turned back. “And if you want to visit the studio, call the station’s front desk. Tours for the general public are scheduled through the marketing department.”
She didn’t wait for Remmie to answer, but followed her father quickly around the side of the building. When they were out of sight, she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Her dad raised a brow.
“It’s probably wrong of me to say this, but that felt
really
good.”
Her father threw back his head and laughed, then grabbed her into a tight hug that lasted almost a full minute. When he finally let her go, he was still smiling. “So proud,” he whispered.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Three weeks later, Kendall hefted her suitcase into the back of the ancient Land Cruiser, slammed the cargo door shut, and climbed into the passenger seat. “I bet this isn’t what you had in mind when you said you were only a phone call away,” she said, her smile wry.
Sam studied her over the rims of her Jackie O sunglasses. “You look like hell.”
“You would, too, if you’d just flushed your life down the toilet.” Kendall cracked the window an inch and leaned back against the headrest. The air in Colorado, even in the congested parking lot at the airport, smelled like the mountains. Like home.
“It’s still true.” Sam shifted into gear and sped away from the bottleneck of traffic at Denver International Airport.
As they rounded the corner of the massive circus tent that housed the main terminal, Kendall caught her first glimpse of the Front Range, rising out of the distant landscape. Even in early June, there was still a light dusting of snow on the highest peaks. The mountains looked solid and steadfast. Her gaze held tight to their constancy like a life preserver.
When they pulled onto the interstate, the downtown Denver skyline came into view. A cloud of light brown smog hung over the buildings this morning, but to her the city had never looked so beautiful.
She was grateful for Sam’s companionable silence. How was she supposed to explain what had happened in the past few days when she barely understood it?
The soft whir of the tires against the asphalt lulled her and her eyes drifted close. She blinked them open when the Land Cruiser stopped. “Are we at your house?” she asked drowsily, stretching her neck from side to side. Sam only lived about twenty minutes from DIA, so she couldn’t have slept that long.
“We’re here. Rise and shine.” Sam opened the door and hopped out. Kendall squinted through the front window to where Sam greeted a large, black dog in front of a Victorian-style house. The animal seemed to be doing its best to knock Sam over with all of its jumping and wiggling. Kendall climbed out of the truck and closed the door as quietly as she could manage.
It didn’t matter. The dog’s floppy ears perked at the sound of the click. He turned, spotted Kendall, and thundered across the yard toward her. She pressed herself flat against the side of the Land Cruiser and watched Sam walk up the steps. Based on Kendall’s previous experiences with animals, there was no telling what a big dog might do to her. Teeth, claws, misplaced bodily functions. Was it any wonder she expected the worst?
From the front porch Sam called with a laugh, “Frank, sit.”
Mere inches in front of her, Frank dug his paws into the yard and plopped his wide rear on the ground. His long tail swished the grass back and forth and he panted hard.
“Good dog,” Kendall breathed, reaching out to pet his head. His tail thumped harder and she smiled.
It seemed like almost everyone in Colorado had a dog. If she planned on making this her home, she should think about adopting one. Frank’s sloppy tongue licked her outstretched hand, leaving behind a slimy coating of slobber. On second thought, maybe she’d start with a cat.
Wiping her hand on her jeans, she eased around the dog and hurried up the walk. Her suitcase could wait until later. When she got to the front porch, she heard a whistle from inside. Frank rose from his spot near the curb and lumbered to the middle of the front yard. He rolled onto his back to soak up the morning sun.
“He’s well trained,” she said to Sam, who held the screen door open.
Sam smiled. “And as gentle as they come. Don’t let his size fool you. Animals can sense your fear.”
“Who can’t?” Kendall mumbled as she stepped into the house.
To her surprise, Sam didn’t make a snide comment. Kendall figured that meant she was too pathetic to joke about. How sad was that?
“Do you want something to drink?”
Kendall made a face. “Got any rat poison?”
“Fresh out. But there’s some iced green tea in the refrigerator. Have a seat in the living room and I’ll pour a couple glasses.”
“Any chocolate?” Kendall questioned hopefully.
Sam grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
When Sam disappeared down the hall, Kendall turned back to where the dog still lay stretched in the grass. If only life were that easy. She went back outside. It was too beautiful a day to be in the house. And she needed whatever calm the fresh spring air could bring.
Frank lifted his head when the screen door banged shut but didn’t get up. She sank into one of the wicker rocking chairs that sat on the large porch. A few minutes later, Sam emerged from the house carrying a tray with two glasses and a wooden bowl.
“No chocolate,” she announced. “But I’ve got carob covered almonds.”
Kendall grimaced but took both the glass of tea and the bowl of nuts.
“Get used to it,” Sam warned. “It’s all organic in this house.”
Kendall popped an almond into her mouth. It was no M&M, but it would do for now. “Thanks again for letting me stay. I know camp preparations start soon. I’ll try to keep out of the way.”
“Stick around long enough and I’ll put you to work.” Sam sipped her tea. When Kendall met her sideways glance Sam asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes. But I don’t know where to begin. Everything happened so fast.”
“Start with the visit to your folks.”
Kendall stared toward the street where a young boy on a bike sped past. “I hadn’t been back there in almost four years. All this time I believed my mom had made the wrong choice. But I talked to her this time, to both of them.” She looked over. “They’re happy. She’s happy. They struggle sometimes, but who doesn’t in a marriage?”
“Who doesn’t in life?”
“Right. But I can’t believe it took me so long to appreciate the parts of my childhood that helped make me the person I am today.” Kendall took of sip of tea. Her hand shook so hard the ice rattled in the tall glass. She tried to laugh it off. “I should have invested in some therapy long ago. It would have saved me a lot of shame and guilt.”
“I’m glad you finally figured out what the rest of us already know. You’re pretty great just the way you are.”
Kendall sighed. “Then I got to New York. Feeling comfortable in Kansas and making it in the Big Apple are two different things. Talk about a Dorothy Gale complex. I might as well have landed in Oz. New York City has been part of my plan forever, but all I could think when I got there was that it wasn’t home for me. Everything was overwhelming—the city, the network, all the new people.”
“Seems normal. You didn’t want to give it some time?”
“That would’ve been prudent.”
“You’re always prudent.”
“I used to be. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Kendall took another drink, her hands steadier this time. “Even if I had stayed longer, it would have ended the same. Did you ever have a gut feeling so strong that you didn’t doubt it for an instant?”
Sam nodded.
“That’s how it was in New York. I knew in my heart that it wasn’t what I wanted. I could never be happy there, no matter how many times I wrote the word on my priority list.”
“What do you want?”
Kendall dragged her fingers through her hair. “That’s the million dollar question. The news director at the network asked me the same thing yesterday when I resigned. He looked at me like I was crazy and suggested I think about my decision for a few days.”
“And you told him . . . ?”
“That I didn’t want to waste any more of his time. I won’t change my mind, Sam.” Kendall bit her lip. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Stop it.” Sam pursed her lips. “Crazy isn’t part of your equation.”
“You sure about that? I’ve got no job, my condo’s sublet for the next six months.” Kendall counted her screw-ups on her fingers. “I ruined a relationship with the man I’m pretty sure was the love of my life. I guess things can only get better from here.”
“Let’s hope so.” A smile tugged at the corner of Sam’s mouth.
Kendall pushed out of the rocking chair and leaned against the front porch rail, stretching her hands out as if to catch some of the sun’s warmth. For someone who had avoided the outdoors as much as possible most of her life, now all she wanted was to soak up the sights and smells of nature. She needed the fresh air to remind her why she’d given up everything she’d ever worked for, everything she’d thought she always wanted.
“I want to belong,” she whispered, watching the light and shadow make patterns across her arms. “I want to be part of a community, to have a home.” She glanced over her shoulder. “How corny is that?”
Sam’s expression was unreadable. If Kendall was looking for unquestioning acceptance of her decision, this wasn’t the place to find it. “Why here?” Sam asked. “Is it because of Ty?”
Kendall turned back to the yard. “I hope so, but I don’t know if he’ll give me a second chance. I hurt him pretty badly. No matter what happens, I’m home. When I was working on the Silver Creek piece, I felt alive. The story’s impact on my career wasn’t as important as its impact on people who lived there. I made a difference for that community. Maybe New York City would have been as fulfilling, but I know now that it’s not where I am that makes me a damn good reporter. It’s who I am. I found my voice in Colorado, and this is where I want to use it.”
“Welcome back.” Sam pulled her in for a hug. “Let’s call Chloe and figure out how we’re going to clean up the royal mess you’ve made of your life.”
Kendall looked up. “Do you think I can?”
Sam shook her head in mock horror. “You’d better. I can’t have you mooching off me forever, babe. What if I find some stud I want to bring home? You’ll cramp my style.”
Kendall took a step back and let her eyes wander from Sam’s braided hair to her oversized sweatshirt and baggy cargo pants. Sam did her best to hide the million-dollar body under those frumpy clothes. “What style?”
Sam’s ice-blue eyes narrowed. “Real funny.” She gave Kendall a small shove toward the front door.
Ty placed the keys in Jenny’s outstretched hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to get everyone settled?”
She gave him a look like he had a horn growing out of his forehead. “I’m sure.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from snatching back the key ring. “The guys don’t like working on Saturdays. They can be really pissy first thing in the morning.”
“Are you talking to someone here I can’t see?” Jenny glanced from side to side. “Because I’m the one who’s been overseeing weekend crews for six years. What is your problem?”
“It’s not that I doubt your competence,” he explained. “I’ve always been—that is—you’ve never been . . .”
He stopped, unsure of how to verbalize his thoughts.
“I’ve never been the
real boss
,” she finished for him, tossing her long red ponytail, clearly annoyed.
“You’ll be great,” he said quickly.
“Hell, yeah, I will.” She took a deep breath. “Ty, I love the business. Probably more than you do. I’ll take good care of the clients, the staff, everything.”
He nodded and mopped the back of his hand across his brow. The early morning air was pleasantly cool, but he was sweating as if it were summer in the Sahara. “I know.” He looked past Jenny. “What if I suck?”
She smiled gently. “You’ve never sucked at anything in your life. Owen wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you could do the job.” Her voice held a hint of pride when she added, “He’s an excellent judge of people.”
“So you keep telling me. But what do I know about land management?”
She rolled her eyes. “For one thing, you’ve grown up around it your whole life. Osmosis has to count for something. And you’re a damn good biologist. You know more about the land in this state than anyone I’ve ever met.”
He flashed a sheepish grin. “Was it obvious I was fishing for a compliment?”
“I’m not blowing sunshine up your ass,” Jenny said with her usual candor.
He was going to miss working with her every day.
“Thanks, Jen.” He slapped his hand lightly against the truck’s ancient side. “Take care of my baby here. She’s almost as perfect as you.”
Jenny opened the door of the truck and winked. “Then we’ll be a great pair. You’d better haul ass. You don’t want to be late for your first day on the new job.”
He watched her drive away until the taillights turned the corner, then glanced at his watch. Shit. A crew of volunteers was scheduled to meet him near the San Isabel trailhead in forty-five minutes. He climbed into his truck and hit the gas hard.
When he finally reached the small mountain road that led to Silver Creek, he began to relax. Almost six weeks had passed since the GoldStar headlines had exploded in the local and national news. As expected, his father had barged into Ty’s office, breathing fire about how he was going to make his son’s life a living hell for dragging the family name through the mud.
It hadn’t mattered. Ty was long past the point where his father could hurt him, either emotionally or professionally. He knew he’d made the right decision in exposing GoldStar.
He’d felt more alive than he had in years.
And more alone.
When Owen had approached him about heading up an environmental group to buy parcels of wilderness area for conservation purposes, he’d jumped at the chance. Resurrecting his professional reputation and working with the land would allow him to reclaim the life he’d walked away from eight years ago.