High-Stakes Inheritance

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Wishing she’d known about the condition of Ryan’s truck before she accepted a ride, Mia sat back as they rumbled down the winding country road to the rattling of soda cans on the floor. Flies had succumbed to the quicksand of dust and grime on the dashboard, and cracks populated the seat with tufts of stuffing eager to escape. Redressed in her fire-ravaged clothes, Mia matched the interior, but not Ryan.

Today he wore an emerald shirt highlighting his dark coloring, and coordinating perfectly with heavy brown corduroys and rough hiking boots. He had a day’s or more worth of stubble on his lean face, and as he climbed into the truck, a hesitant, little-boy-lost look had crossed his face and made it hard to keep her eyes off him.

Or was it the fact that he’d had a sound explanation for hurting her, and she’d finally forgiven him? But would she ever let go of the pain of his betrayal and learn to trust a man again? Was Ryan what he seemed or did he really have his own agenda—wanting to take over her life and control her?

Last night as she tried to fall asleep in the noisy hospital, her thoughts kept drifting back to the ambulance ride and his loving expression as he answered Jessie’s questions and calmed her fears, much as he’d comforted her after her father’s many rampages. Then she had to go and dream about Ryan.

Not just him, but them as a couple again, married and with a family. The whole American dream wrapped up in a neat little package. Two children, living in the big lodge at Pinetree, and of course a dog frolicking around the place. Foolish, but she liked it.

She glanced at his strong profile. How could she spend day after day working alongside him and not wonder what their life would have been like if they’d never broken up?

He slowed the truck at Pinetree’s driveway and glanced her way. “You thinking about the fire again?”

She wasn’t about to admit the truth so she lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

He seemed to buy her vague response as an affirmation and clicked on the blinker. “I don’t have to tell you people who survive an experience like a fire often start to ponder the meaning of life and why they were spared. I’m not sure how you stand on God these days, but He can help you through this if you turn to Him.”

She swiveled toward Ryan so fast her hair slapped her face. “You’ve embraced religion?”

His lips tipped in the briefest of smiles. “I turned my life over to God a few years ago if that’s what you mean.”

She peered past him and out the window. Here she was fantasizing over getting back together with him, and he clearly wasn’t the same person she’d known in high school. Back then, he’d have scoffed at anything religious. Now he was spouting the stuff.

“Mia.” He laid a calloused hand on her arm. “Would you mind if I tell you how my faith helped me get through some tough times?”

She shook her head. “That’s the last thing I need right now. God keeps taking away the people I love most, and I haven’t the stomach to think about Him.”

“That’s not how it is, Mi—”

“I said no to this sermon, all right?” She sent a stony gaze his way.

He responded with a flush of hurt, but she kept quiet.

Religion or God or whatever Ryan wanted to call things did not help her. She’d tried that. Until her mom died and her father ignored her. Then God ceased to exist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan blow out a deep breath. His knuckles tightened on the wheel, turning white then slowly returning to healthy pink.

Something inside her begged to comfort him, to take back her comment, to reach out and touch his arm to end the silence. To return the carefree guy from before this conversation, but she held herself in check and gazed out the side window. No good would come from revisiting her stance on God.