Again a sick feeling. “You were involved with her?”
“Yes.”
“And she was sent to stay in Portland with her sister to have your baby?”
“What?” His head snapped up and his eyes focused hard on Nadine. “There wasn’t a baby. Dad gave her family money, true, but she left because her mother was unfit to care for her. Her older sister offered to give her a place to live and help her with college. Trish really didn’t have a choice. She’d already been branded in this town, so she took off. Wrote me one letter. Trish and I had an affair, I won’t deny it, but we were careful.” He looked at her long and hard. “In fact, the only woman I haven’t been careful with has been you. Until the past couple of weeks I never wanted children and I was damned careful to make sure that I didn’t sire any.”
His world was so different from hers. Money was and always would be the answer. He grew up learning that money could solve any problem. She heard his change of heart toward a family, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. There was just so much to learn.... “What does Wynona want from you now?”
His lips curled in disgust. “What do you think?”
“Money.”
“Right. The old man didn’t leave her much and she wants more, plans on suing his estate for what she considers her share.”
So it all came down to money. And it always would. As long as Hayden was the rich boy, money would always rule his life.
She stood quickly. He reached for her but she drew away. Why was she prolonging this agony? Why didn’t she just leave him now, break it off, save herself and her children any further heartache?
He drew her into his arms, but she resisted. “I think I should leave,” she said again, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
“You don’t believe me.”
Fighting tears, she placed her hand along his jaw, felt the beard stubble in her palms and nearly broke down. “That’s the problem. I do believe you. I believe that you’re right. For the rest of your life you’ll live in a world I can’t begin to understand, a world run by money. You said you didn’t want a wife and children and I said I didn’t want a husband. However, there’s no future for us. There’s no reason to prolong this any further.”
He touched her and she fell back a step. “Don’t.”
“Nadine, listen, I—”
“Shh.” Placing a finger against his lips, she shook her head. “It’s over, Hayden. It really never did exist. We can be happy now, knowing we fulfilled our childhood fantasies, but we can’t expect this to go on indefinitely. You’re planning to sell the mill, and what then?”
He didn’t say a word, and she suddenly felt as cold as the bottom of the ocean. “Believe me, this is for the best.” Turning quickly, she headed for the door, hoping to feel his hand on the crook of her elbow, silently praying that he’d grab her and tell her he couldn’t live without her, dying with each step as she approached the door.
Finally she heard him move, heard his footsteps behind her. Her heart leapt unexpectedly when she thought he would crush her to him and tell her that he wouldn’t let her go.
Instead he said, “I think you’ll need a ride.”
* * *
HAYDEN KICKED HIMSELF for being such a damned fool. She’d only been gone eighteen hours and he was going out of his mind. Like an idiot, he’d decorated the house by himself and now he sneered at his attempts at Christmas spirit. The house with lights and tinsel and a tree near the fire was as cold as the feeling in the middle of his heart. All the decorations and lights and gifts in the world wouldn’t make up for the emptiness he felt without her and the boys. He’d even bought gifts, wrapped them and placed them under the tree. For Nadine and her kids. Not that she’d want them.
He’d learned long ago that everything came with a price, and her price was his loss of freedom and a life in Gold Creek. The freedom part he could handle. The family part he surprisingly decided he would embrace. But Gold Creek and his father’s sawmills? He could still sell them, of course, but that thought was beginning to sour his stomach and he didn’t want to be a part of the “idle rich.” No way. Selling out to Thomas Fitzpatrick or some other rich timber baron was the coward’s way out.
He climbed into the Jeep and drove into town. Snow had been predicted, and the first flakes were starting to collect on the ground. Good. It didn’t matter if the whole damned lake froze over. Hayden couldn’t get any colder.
The Silver Horseshoe wasn’t very crowded on the twenty-third of December. A few of the regulars hung out at the bar, several younger guys played pool and Hayden recognized a few faces. Erik Patton, who worked at the mill, was huddled over a mug of beer, a cigarette burning in the ashtray beside him. Ed Foster, who had recently retired from the coaching staff at Tyler High, was nursing a tall one, and Patty Osgood Smythe gave him the once-over as he approached the bar. There were other people there, as well, men who seemed to bristle when he slid onto his stool. In the mirror behind the bar, he caught a few hard glances cast his way and knew that some of these men and women were dependent upon him for their livelihoods.
He ordered an ale, nibbled at peanuts and wondered what life would be like if he settled down in Gold Creek for good. What if he buried the past, made peace with his fath
er and took over the helm of the sawmills? He could go through the company books, make restitution where it was necessary. If other people had been swindled by his father, maybe there was something that could be done. Better late than never.
He could run the mills. He had the education and the experience. What he didn’t have was the employees behind him. That would take time. No one really trusted him.
A gust of cold wind followed a newcomer into the bar. Hayden glanced over his shoulder and spied Ben Powell, Nadine’s older brother, as he sauntered in. His dark hair cut military-short, Ben surveyed the room in one glance, caught sight of Hayden and froze. “I figured you were back,” he said, his features hard, his hazel eyes cold. “I heard that your father had died.”
“That’s right.”
“Running things, are you, now?”