I peered into the growing dark, the taillights ahead growing fuzzy as it got darker. When the sun hit the ridgeline of the mountain, it went down fast, the sky shading from sunset pink to deep purple in minutes. As hard as I looked, I couldn't see the cars ahead moving. Then one inched forward. And the next. And so on down the line until we inched forward, too.
"Doesn't anyone you know have a helicopter or something?" I muttered.
Tenn laughed. "Don't think so. Griffen might know someone, but not around here."
"There must be something we can do," I insisted, looking around at the road ahead and the slowly moving traffic, hoping for a miracle.
Tenn shrugged again. "We still have some time."
I checked the clock. Only forty-six minutes and we were a good thirty minutes away without the rockslide. We could sit here for an hour, or—
I shut down that thought and tried to follow Tenn's lead and relax. Either we'd get home on time, or we wouldn't.
Nope, not doing the trick. "Why aren't you upset?" I demanded, not caring that my near shriek woke up Thatcher.
Tenn braked behind the hatchback in front of us, coming to another stop. Lifting one hand, he cupped my chin. "Because it doesn't matter, Scarlett."
"Not matter? It's your inheritance! Your home! Your birthright! You love the Inn."
With a slow graze of his thumb along my jaw, Tenn let go of my chin, turning his eyes back to the road. Our pace was agonizingly slow as we inched forward another few feet before stopping again. "I do love the Inn," he said. "And Heartstone Manor. I even love living with my family again, which is something I never thought I'd say. But, Scarlett, the money and the house and the job are just things. They don't really matter."
"Not matter?" I shrieked again. From the back seat, Thatcher glanced between us before his eyes fixed on the taillights ahead of us.
"What's going on?" he asked Tenn in a low voice, probably deciding that I was too unhinged to bother talking to. He wasn't wrong. I did not have a hold on calm. I was freaking out, and I still didn't get why I was the only one.
"Rockslide," Tenn answered.
Thatcher's eyes flew wide and his face fell. "Oh man, that's bad. I'm sorry—"
"I'm not." Tenn cut him off. Braking again, he turned in his seat to meet Thatcher's eyes. "I'm not sorry, and I don't want you to be either. Whatever happens, I won't regret leaving to come get you. You're more important. Your mom is more important. The rest is just stuff."
"It's not just stuff," I insisted.
Tenn looked over at me. "So, if I lose the house and the money, have to get a job somewhere else, you'd be upset? You wanted to live at Heartstone? Want me to buy you a big diamond?"
"No! I don't care about all of that. You know I don't. But I care about you. I want you to have what you deserve. What's yours. And more than that—" I swallowed hard, afraid to admit the truth. "I don't want you to hate me for being the reason you lost everything."
"Scarlett—" Tenn's voice was warm with affection. Maybe something more than affection. "You could never be the reason I lost anything. You're the reason I have everything."
"Tenn—"
"No," he went on as if I hadn't interrupted, "I need you to understand. The money, the house, the Inn—none of that is mine. Not really. I want to keep running the Inn because I love that place and I love the job. But in the end, it's just a job. There are other jobs. There is no other you. There is no other Thatcher. It wasn't even a question for me. If something had happened to Thatcher, it would have destroyed you."
I reached up to wipe away a tear. He was right. I couldn't fathom how I could have handled something happening to one of my babies. A fresh wave of anger at Elliott washed over me. How could he have put Thatcher anywhere near the Learys? I should have grabbed one of the guns and shot him.
"But what if we don't make it? I don't want to be the reason you lose it all."
"You aren't getting it, Scarlett. My inheritance is just another way for my dad to yank my chain. He could have left the Inn to Royal and me. We've been running it for almost a decade. He didn't, he left it to Griffen just to remind us that none of it was ours. Same with the trusts. That money isn't mine. It may never be. Griffen could decide to buy a small country and clean us all out."
"Griffen isn't going to steal from you." I didn't know Griffen well enough to be sure, but I didn't need to. I was sure anyway.