“I am, but I’m almost home. Tell everyone I’m sorry. I’ll call later when I get settled.” She forced a smile as she mentally kicked her own butt for leaving her mom’s house. “Hey, maybe you can video chat me in later.”
“Is that Miriam? Is she all right?” their mother called in the distance.
“She’s fine!” Kris called back. Then to Miriam, “I’ll let her know you’re all right and home safe... That is where you’re going, right? Home?”
“Of course.”
“Meems.”
“I have to go.” Miriam hung up on Kris, who clearly could not be trusted with sensitive information, and resumed her drive to Chase’s mansion. If Miriam didn’t go to him like she’d vowed, the entire trip would be a waste.
Once she looked him in the eye and made sure he understood who she’d become, she could be on her way. Who was she? A woman who didn’t take crap from anyone. A woman who’d found herself and her way in the decade that separated them. Her biggest worry was that she’d remained a still frame in his mind: standing next to a private plane, tears running down her face, begging him not to leave.
Or worse, the one who’d emailed and called him after she’d come home to Montana. She’d been so weak back then, but Chase had always maintained his strength.
“Clean break,” he’d told her, and he’d meant it.
Meanwhile, she’d continued to declare her love for him and had reiterated her claim that they were meant to be. Never had she been so wrong before or since.
Chase’s mother, Eleanor, had seen Miriam not as a lifelong mate for her son, but a preoccupation he couldn’t afford. Miriam knew because the only phone call answered from Chase’s cell phone happened to be answered by Eleanor herself.
On Thanksgiving.
Miriam blinked in shock. She’d completely forgotten that fact.
But yes, it’d been Thanksgiving. She remembered excusing herself from the room while her siblings and parents were unboxing a new board game. Then she’d shut herself in Kristine’s bedroom and called Chase. She’d been thinking then about how she was the only one of them at the table not coupled off.
The more things changed...
She heard those words in her late father’s voice, her heart squeezing as she remembered his big laugh and bigger presence. He’d been comforting, but notably frustrated while she nursed her broken heart that winter. He’d been exactly what a father should be.
She turned into the lakeside neighborhood where the wealthiest residents of Bigfork lived, rolled by the snowy, pricey new builds with their lack of trees and yard space, and toward the older part of the neighborhood. The houses closer to the lake sat on high hills, were spread much farther apart and had exponentially higher price tags.
Ten minutes of slow-crawling her way toward Pinecone Drive, and she was navigating through dark trees and an abandoned road piled deep with snow.
This is a bad idea.
Not braving the storm—she was confident in her driving abilities and her trusty Ford to get her both in and out of this mess—but confronting Chase. That phone call from ten years ago replayed in her mind and her gloved hands gripped the steering wheel, her shoulders wilting.
Chase Ferguson’s phone. Who is this?
The woman who’d answered had been older. An air of sophistication outlined every word she spoke. Miriam had recognized Eleanor’s voice instantly, but she refused to let the woman bully her. Her future with Chase involved only them—or so she’d believed.
Listen, darling. I appreciate that you have an affinity for my son, however I can’t allow this to continue. He has aspirations for a political seat. He has a future involving Ferguson Oil. Can you honestly tell me that you wouldn’t be a hindrance to those goals? If you love him, truly, you’ll support him by letting him live his life here in Dallas without you.
Miriam never found out if Chase had asked his mother to handle his dirty work for him, or if Eleanor had taken the call and kept her son in the dark. In the end, Miriam guessed it didn’t matter.
She’d reached out. He’d stayed hidden.
Dumb.Dumb of her to come tonight.
At the base of the gargantuan property, she waited for the wipers to swipe the gathering snow from the windshield to assess the situation. The property was nestled in the trees, the clearing blocked by a gate with a keypad she’d have to drive up to. Her truck would make it, of that she was sure. And even if she wasn’t, she wasn’t risking using the last of her fuel to turn back. She could only hope that Chase had a few gallons of gasoline to fill her tank up so that she could drive home, or else...
No. She wasn’t entertaining that thought.
She climbed the steep, snowy hill, her tires sliding enough that her heart hammered against her throat. Thankfully, the driveway evened out at the gate so she didn’t slide backwards in the snow. She pressed a button on a callbox to request to be let in. A camera lens attached to the device stared at her from its unblinking mechanical eye. Miriam grabbed the container of sweet potato pie from the passenger seat.
While she waited, snow covered her windshield and drifted inside. He might not be here, she thought miserably. Or maybe he’d been caught in the storm while gathering supplies and was holed up in a hotel somewhere—