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“She was there?”
Sarah nodded. “At the pool. She came by and gave you and your brother a strawberry ice cream cone.”
With Sinjin squeezing her hand, Breanna closed her eyes and tried to pull the memory of it from her subconscious. She came up blank.
“I’m so sorry, honey.”
Yeah, I am too.
Ian glanced at her from across the room. Headphones in, Breanna concentrated on the screen as she scribbled away in a notebook. He had to give her credit for her self-discipline, her commitment to her studies. Without being forced to sit in a lecture hall, as he had in college, he sure as hell wouldn’t have had the wherewithal. But that was just it. More than her beautiful face or her luscious body, her strong-willed nature was what attracted him to her.
She’d spent most of the week combing through Valerie’s things, even going through every nook and cranny of the study while he worked, to no avail. Just as he’d predicted, the documents weren’t there. Still, Breanna resolved to find them. “I know they’re here somewhere. I feel it in my gut.”
And time was running out.
Derek was expected to return today.
He was going to have his hands full dealing with him, keeping him away from Breanna without rousing too much suspicion. Ian was just a kid when her father’s car careened off the mountain, but even then he’d heard the whispers. A clear September day. No other vehicles involved. It couldn’t have been an accident.
Shane was born and raised on this mountain. He knew the pass like the back of his hand, every twist, turn, and curve of it. Same as Ian did. Maybe his brakes failed. Who knows? But it surprised him to learn that, like many of the villagers, Valerie and Lawrence also believed there was foul play regarding their son’s death. While he knew she wasn’t particularly fond of his uncle, she’d never mentioned her suspicions.
Raymond couldn’t be that deranged, so hellbent on revenge, could he? What happened with Sharon was ancient history. And he and Breanna’s grandfather were like brothers, or so it appeared, anyway. The man was broken after his son’s death. A shell of his former self, Lawrence Dalton died five years later, at the age of fifty-eight.
“The Daltons owe this family, son. Don’t you ever forget it.”
Then again, maybe he was. He’d heard those words often enough at the office, Uncle Raymond drilling it into Derek’s head any chance he got. At the time, Ian thought little of it. His cousin would just roll his eyes behind his father’s back and snicker. Then, after six months in Sacramento, he went to Dalton House at Valerie’s request—not that he minded.
Ian adored her, and she him. From the time he was a young boy, scampering around Dalton House alongside his mom while she and Valerie redesigned its grand interior, he thought of her as he would a grandmother or a kindly older aunt. His allegiance, his loyalty, was hers, and hers alone. And now it belonged to her granddaughter.
So gazing at the girl he found himself in love with, Ian vowed to right his cousin’s wrongs—and his own, if he were to be honest. His princess never deserved the disdainful opinion he once had of her. How he wished Valerie had confided in him before she died. If she had, he could’ve outsmarted Uncle Raymond and Derek. Then she might’ve felt it was safe enough to build a bond with Breanna.
We all fucked up. What a fucking waste.
He shut his laptop, got up from the sofa, and crossed the room to the oversized chair Breanna was curled up in. With those headphones on, she didn’t notice his approach, and leaning over her from behind, Ian swept her hair to the side to kiss the skin beneath her ear.
She giggled.
The humming of Christmas carols in the kitchen ceased. He glanced up to find Francie grinning. Having deemed her a trustworthy ally, Ian winked.
“You about done here, princess?” His fingers slid through her silky hair. “Mom and Derek should be here soon.”
Breanna wrinkled up her nose. “Yeah, I need to go up and change.”
Dressed in leggings, fuzzy socks, and a Portland State sweatshirt, Ian thought her perfect. “Why? What you have on is fine.”
“For studying, maybe.” She tipped her head back and puckered her lips, so he kissed her. “But I will not be looking like a bum in front of your mother.”
“I told you, you’re fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiled.
“I’m going to change, anyway.” She snapped her laptop shut. “Be right back.”
With a shake of his head, Ian chuckled, and watching Breanna sprint up the stairs, he strolled over to his aunt. “I’ll never fully understand the way the female mind works.”
“Nothing to it, dear. I mean, look at you in your chinos and cashmere. My sister is always impeccable, and Derek?” She harrumphed. “Well, you know Derek. Breanna is the lady of this house now. About time he knows it, too.”
