with age, as they say,” he said with a trace of amusement. “By the way, I heard Tilda made the dean’s list.”
Startled at first, Ginny quickly realized it wasn’t at all odd for him to know about the goings-on at Roger Williams Preparatory Academy. He and most of his cronies were alumni, including the current headmaster. Truly the “old boys club.”
“Yes, she’s doing very well.”
“I must admit, I thought you were wrong in allowing her to skip the third grade. However, I imagine she would’ve been quite bored. It seems she has a head for science.” He paused. “Honestly, Ginny, I wish you’d told me she was in an accelerated program. I’m very proud of that granddaughter of mine.”
Ginny held her tongue. He should’ve been proud of her regardless. Ginny wasn’t surprised though. This was a well-worn theme in his life. If she had stayed at Juilliard she would’ve been the apple of her father’s eye. Not an outcast.
“Yes, I’m proud of her, as well. Funny you brought up her skipping a grade. At the rate she’s going she’ll graduate early and then be off to college. I’m sure going to miss her.”
“Nonsense. You must do what’s right for the child.”
“I didn’t say I would hold her back. Although if she wasn’t at an appropriate maturity level, I wouldn’t hesitate to do just that.” Ginny’s brusque tone was met with silence. She never spoke to her dad like that. She cleared her throat. “Tilda’s SAT scores should get her a scholarship, especially now that we know MIT has her on their radar. So I don’t think I’ll have to worry about shelling out exorbitant tuition.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you know I’ll take care of my granddaughter’s college expenses.”
Ginny waited, holding her breath, half expecting him to give her a list of conditions. The offer was an amazing turnaround on his part, and she felt equal parts gratitude and resentment. If Tilda had been an average student, would they even be having this conversation? Would they be on speaking terms at all? Plus, she knew that if he were to pay Tilda’s tuition he would insist on full input as to which university she attended.
“Thank you, Dad. That’s very generous of you,” Ginny said, choosing her words carefully. “We’ll discuss it later. I’m running a little late here.”
“All right, I didn’t mean to keep you. Give my best to Tilda.”
Out of pure selfishness, Ginny sometimes wished she hadn’t let Tilda skip third grade. She couldn’t imagine living in the house without her. They’d been through so much together. But she would never clip Tilda’s wings, or do anything that would hinder her very bright future.
Anyway, if things went well with the Rhode Island Philharmonic, Ginny would have very little time to miss anyone. She’d have a second chance at a career—not the one she could have had. There’d be no Carnegie Hall in her future. Though if she did well, there was a good chance of steady work in smaller venues, which would be just fine with her.
But that presented another problem. At thirty-two, she still had time to have babies of her own. She’d been honest with Harlow... Ginny truly did want to have a bigger family. And she wanted to experience all of motherhood...the aches and pains of pregnancy, giving birth, all of it.
Oh, Tilda would always be hers. Ginny couldn’t possibly love her more. But she knew Tilda would be thrilled with a little brother or sister, and Ginny longed for a partner to share her life, and the laughter of children to fill her house and her heart.
THE MOTEL MADE Parker’s cabin feel like a palace—before he’d installed the indoor plumbing. But he’d stayed in worse. At least the TV worked, although it wasn’t loud enough to compete with the soothing sound of the stone’s-throw highway serenade keeping him from getting a nap at all. It wouldn’t be so bad if he’d gotten some rest last night, but nope. He’d grown used to the calls of moose, bears, wolves, the squeal of hawks and higher calls of elk.
So he thought about Ginny. Not just Ginny from this morning, with her torn robe and half-done makeup, but Ginny from the night they’d come together for comfort.
He’d spent a lot of years regretting that he’d let things go so far, and just as many that he hadn’t come back to find her, to explain why he’d left so suddenly. But he’d known she was headed for big things, and his own life plans had diminished to less than wishful thinking.
Nothing could have shocked him more than finding out she’d stayed in Temptation Bay and taught piano from her family home. Except that she’d had a child.
Although Ginny had convinced him that Tilda wasn’t his, he couldn’t seem to shake the idea that Ginny was hiding something. It bothered him that he was making decisions based on a girl he’d known briefly years ago. Even though they’d been more than acquaintances, they hadn’t been friends, not in the way he understood the concept. They’d shared a common loss. His sister running off had made Ginny doubt herself and what she’d meant to Meg. Finding his sister gone had made his father’s absence so much harder for Parker to accept.
The idea that he believed he would have known if Ginny had lied to him was a conceit he had no business entertaining. Tilda could be his. What seemed clear was that whether he was the girl’s father or not, Ginny had no interest in letting him into their lives.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure whether to be angry or grateful.
Maybe she had slept with some dark-eyed stranger the day after he and his mom had been forced to leave. Although that was as hard to believe as Meg wanting to come home.
Facing reality head-on was all that had saved his sanity after his father’s betrayal. And it was a lot easier to admit the truth when the nearest neighbor lived across three rivers.
He turned on his side and punched the pillow, although he felt certain the pillow had given up the fight hours ago. The ring of his cell phone was a welcome distraction. That it was Denali Wildrose screaming through his smartphone as if they were talking on two cans tied by a string made it a mixed blessing.
“Where you at?” Denali asked, his tone as gnarly as his calloused hands.
“I’m away. Mark is bringing your supplies.”
“Who’s that? Your partner?”
“Yep. You’ve met him.”
Denali grunted. “He’s late.”
“I can’t do anything about it from here.”
“Anchorage?”
“Nope. Rhode Island.”
“What? Who you got down there?” The old-timer didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t Native American. But Denali was a good man. Had six kids. Raised them all on his own after a boulder had killed his wife during an earthquake. But he was getting on in years and odder by the day.
“What else did you need, Kaskae?” Parker asked. “It takes time to get to Hoonah, and he’s got double the work since I’m not there.”
“That doesn’t make my stomach stop grumbling. We can’t cook nothing before we get that part for the oven.”
“Light a fire. You’ve got a perfectly good camp stove right outside your back door.”
“Okay, okay. You be back next week?”
“I hope so.” Parker said, although he wouldn’t swear to it. Not yet.
“What business you got in the Lower 48, anyway?”
“The none-of-your-business kind.”
Denali snorted. “You ain’t sick are ya?”
“No. It’s family stuff, okay? I’ll be back as