Always on My Mind (30 page)

This side of town, he recognized the scars of tiny cabins, a dilapidated boardwalk. He motored the snowmobile into town, spied a false-front building with saggy windows.

“How big was this place?” Raina asked.

“According to my research, about forty-six families lived here. They had a post office and a general store, a school, a couple churches. It was originally a lumber town, but I think someone might have found gold here too. Anyway, the government bought it and absorbed it into the Indian reservation, and the families moved away. I think that’s when Aggie and Thor bought the trading post in Deep Haven.”

Raina pointed to what looked like a cemetery, just on the outskirts of town through a wrought-iron arched entrance. “I wonder if we’d find Duncan Rothe in there.”

Casper glanced over his shoulder, and she waggled her eyebrows at him, the shadows gone from her eyes.

“I think he’s probably buried deep in the forest, if at all, if he
really came after Aggie like Thor suggested. I can promise you if anyone came after the woman I loved, I wouldn’t leave his bones behind.”

Oh. He didn’t quite mean that.

Really.

Especially when she frowned. But then, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I think that’s the curio shop,” he said and pulled in front of the building. He parked, and she got off. “Be careful. I’m not sure how sound the structure us.”

Raina moved onto the boardwalk, and he followed. Water flowed beneath it. A sign hung over the main door:
Ten and One, Wilder Curios
. Light-green paint, the color of the sea, peeled from the wooden door in jagged curls.

On either side, broken glass-paned windows still displayed taped adverts from bygone years. One advertised a dance at the nearby VFW. Another was for Dr. Swett’s root beer.

“This one is for a Viewtone television. Half-radio, half-television.” She leaned down. “The screen looks about as big as an iPad.”

“And only sixty-five years old.” When he grabbed for the door handle, it came off in his grip. “Oops.”

“You break it, you bought it,” she said.

“Funny.” He reached around, pried open the store door. It whined on its hinges.

“It smells like animal in here,” Raina said as she stepped forward.

“Wait.” He grabbed her arm.

She flinched, recoiling as if he’d hurt her, and the response stopped him cold.

“Raina
 
—”

“I’m fine. Wow, look at this place.” She ventured inside.

Casper stood there, frowning. No, please . . .

But she waited for him inside, surveying the place, unfazed, so maybe he was reading too much into it.

“It’s clearly been vandalized,” she said as she crunched across the litter of glass, empty display cases torn from the walls. The branches of a dead birch poked through the partially collapsed rear wall.

The place did smell of animal, raw and feral.

She walked into a back room. “This looks like the cold storage,” she said, her voice echoing. “In a curio shop?”

“I think he ran it more like a general store, with curio items for sale. Please, be careful
 
—”

“Look what I found!”

He turned and glimpsed a head with painted blonde hair, one side of her face caved in, emerging from the room. “What
 
—?”

Raina poked her head out from behind it. “A mannequin. Sort of. Mannequin parts.”

“Any secret doors?”

She made a face. “Just Mabel here. Holding down the fort.”

“Leave Mabel behind. I think this is the door to the apartment.” The tiny apartment leaned against the store like an afterthought, but when he opened the door, he saw the charm inside.

Raina came in behind him, peering over his shoulder. “Wow. Creepy.” She pushed past him, and he trailed behind as she surveyed the remains of the tiny apartment. A low ceiling with a long beam held up plaster, and the chinking between the logs had begun to crumble onto the painted wood floor. Two broken windows had let in leaves that littered the floor, forming a pile of
debris at the front of the room. Along one wall, a brick fireplace still housed the cast-iron stove, ash spilled on the hearth. A broken cane chair sat at a built-in table. Rosebud wallpaper peeled from the walls in wide swaths, and a chipped Formica counter ran against the far wall, a porcelain sink betraying its age. The door of an icebox hung ajar.

Small. Primitive.

Raina stood at the bottom of rough-hewn stairs, looked up.

“Maybe not a good idea,” he said, pointing to a hole in the ceiling.

She wrinkled her nose at him and climbed up anyway, peeking through the top. “It’s empty. And the roof is exposed.”

He stood below her, ready to catch her if the stairs gave way. When she turned, he held out his hand. “Scare a guy, will ya?”

Raina came down the stairs. “Aggie was an heiress. Worth millions. And she chose this?” She walked around the room, kicking aside debris.

“Maybe she loved Thor.”

Raina looked at him. Nodded. “A lot.”

Was that her fascination with Monte
 
—that he had money?

He hadn’t thought about it before, but yeah, a woman who’d grown up in poverty without a home might find that kind of security alluring. Even if it came attached to a shyster like Monte.

She ventured to the room in back. “Hey, you gotta see this.”

Casper followed her and found her standing in a small bedroom, light streaming in from a window. A door to the outhouse in back stood ajar.

“Look.” She walked to a beam running at eye level across the back of the room, ran her fingers along etching there. “‘Aggie
and Thor, 1930.’ And here is ‘Otto, 5/1931.’ Gust told me he drowned when he was ten.”

“So sad.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s why they moved
 
—they couldn’t bear to face the past.”

She ran her hand along the beam, and the action stirred up his brother’s words.
It’s not like she has a ring on her finger, right?

Raina turned and, in the soft glow of the afternoon light, looked so pretty it could silence him. “Sadly, I don’t see any hidden treasure.”

Yeah, but he did. Sure, maybe he’d never find the treasure of Duncan Rothe
 
—but he didn’t need it. Not really.

She walked past him again, and he couldn’t help it
 
—he reached out and took her arm.

Again she winced, and that shook him right out of his moment. “Are you hurt?”

She frowned, jerked her arm away. “No. I’m fine.” But she’d answered too fast and he saw the lie in her eyes.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

She stared at him, her face flushing, her breath quick. “No.” But her hand went to her arm. “He didn’t mean it
 
—”

“He didn’t
mean
it?” Casper’s voice rose and echoed in the tiny room. He cut it in half, repeated his statement, his heart thundering. “He. Didn’t. Mean. It.”

“Casper, you don’t understand
 
—”

“Here’s what I don’t understand: what a beautiful, smart, courageous, strong woman is doing with a guy like Monte. And please, don’t tell me it is for his money.”

She flinched, her eyes sharp. “You’re a jerk.”

That slowed him a little, but
 
—“I guess I am, but you deserve better, Raina. Monte is
 
—”

“Monte wants me, Casper. He doesn’t see my sins every time he looks at me. And yeah, he might be sort of bossy, but it’s just because he is so into me. He . . . wants me.”

She turned away, pressed a hand to her mouth. “Just leave me alone.”

So they were back to that.

Or not, because he’d had enough of leaving her alone. “
I
want you.”

Oh. He sucked in a breath. “Seeing you with him is killing me, and the idea that he hurt you . . .”

She didn’t move and he turned away, stared out the window, shaking.

He could hear her breathing behind him.

Then, “You . . . want me?”

Casper closed his eyes.
You can be your own worst enemy sometimes.

He turned. “Yeah. I want you in my life. I think about you all the time. I can’t seem to do anything without the thought of you in my head. I tried
 
—wow, I tried. I went two thousand miles away and still . . .” He swallowed, took a step toward her. Her eyes widened. “Still I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I . . . I love you, Raina. I never stopped. I don’t think I can.”

He was breathing hard, his heart right there in his hands.

Her expression, the way she drank in his words as if she wanted to believe him, could make him weep. “I love you too, Casper. I
 
—”

But he didn’t care what she was about to say
 
—in fact, didn’t
want to hear it, just in case it might resemble her pushing him out of her life.

So he kissed her. Just wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to himself, his mouth full on hers. Hungry.

Oh, he’d missed kissing her. She tasted like sweet coffee, memories of summer, freedom. She moved into his arms, wrapped hers over his shoulders. Kissed him back. In fact, her response seemed so utterly Raina, so full of life, of passion, that he realized how completely she’d gone into hiding.

Out of shame, probably. Except, not anymore. He could burst with the joy of kissing her, moving both arms around her waist to mold her against him, picking her up, twirling her around. She made a little sound in the back of her throat as if another barrier collapsed, and he set her down, cradled her face, softened his kiss.

She smelled so amazing, and he wanted to peel back time . . .

Yes.

Casper broke away and pressed his forehead to hers. Caught her beautiful eyes. “Raina . . . let’s just forget about everything
 
—the past and what happened and . . . let’s start over. I don’t care anymore. Not about any of it. Not Owen . . . or . . . the baby. Oh, please, can’t we
 
—?”

She stiffened. Put her hands to his shoulders and pushed.

He backed away. “What
 
—?”

But she raised one hand to her mouth. Shook her head.

“Raina
 
—”

“I’m sorry, Casper. I’m so
 
—I’m so sorry.” Her face crumpled. “I think you need to take me home.”

Then she turned and fled from the cabin.

No
 
—“Raina!” He chased after her because what else could he
do? But she had already exited the building, already charged out to the snowmobile.

He sat on the sled, facing her, took her face in his hands. “What is it?”

Her breath whispered out in a sigh. “I got some news today. I . . .” The look she gave him then could reach down and tear him asunder. “The adoption fell through. I think I’m going to raise my daughter on my own.”

He blinked at her, her words settling inside.

And then he got it. Owen’s baby. She planned on
keeping
his brother’s baby.

Talk about reliving the past, every single day.

“Oh.”

“See.” She wiped her face, gave him a sad smile. “This is why you don’t really want me, Casper.”

He had no words for that. In fact, he hated himself when he turned and fired up the sled.

She didn’t lace her arms around him as they motored home.

R
AINA DIDN’T KNOW WHEN
 
—or why
 
—the decision had taken root, burrowed into her. Maybe during the ride into the woods, as her head cleared and she realized . . .

Layla belonged with her. Sure, she could find a safe, loved life with adoptive parents
 
—Raina had no doubt that many adopted children did. But Layla would have a family. Her. And yes, the Christiansens. She shouldn’t have kept their grandchild from them, despite her shame. And Owen.

She would tell Owen. Eventually.

More than that, her future could never include Monte. Not when Casper still embedded every heartbeat.

She had wrapped this around her brain before Casper took her into his arms, before she imagined them in a house in the woods,
like Aggie and Thor. Before she’d had them inscribing their children’s names on the walls.

But she definitely saw him in her picture of happily ever after.

So what that it was primitive? Walking through Aggie’s place told her just how valuable loving the right man could be.

Aggie chose the unknown and lived large in love. For a second, Raina did too. Breaking free of the past, embracing the wild adventure that was Casper.

Then his words took her apart, back to the beginning. Back to reality.
Let’s start over. I don’t care anymore. Not about any of it.

She stared out the window as they drove toward town, the sun baking the truck. “For the record, I don’t expect you to want to raise Owen’s child. That’s not why I told you about the baby. I just felt you deserved to know.”

Casper seemed as if he might be trying to hold himself together based on his clenched jaw and the way he held the steering wheel with a whitened hand. Not angry, just . . . Well, he appeared as if he might shatter, so she didn’t add to her words, just let them simmer.

She touched her lips, still feeling the way he’d kissed her
 
—as if he ached for her, as if he’d held back desire for the past seven months, only to suddenly have it break free, rich and consuming.

I’m sorry, Casper.
She wanted to say it again but for the first time didn’t really know what she was apologizing for.

She couldn’t look at him, her disappointment raw despite her compassion.

He finally pulled up to her house. She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her with a hand on her sleeve.

His eyes were red rimmed. “I . . . I need some time . . .”

Her heart turned over then, seeing the fight in his eyes, and she
couldn’t bear it. She pressed her hand to his on her arm. “I didn’t tell you about the baby so you could show up and save the day. Let yourself off the hook, Casper.”

Then she got out, breathing in the fresh air, holding herself together until she reached her house.

He drove away, and she watched him, her forehead against the cold glass. After all, what did she expect? Clearly her destiny with the Christiansen men included watching them leave.

Despite his friendship, Casper was still an adventurer, his heart set on leaving her. She should have seen that in the beginning.

She went to the shower, turned it on. Let the steam fill the bathroom, then undressed and climbed in.

It seemed the safest place to cry.

Her phone was vibrating on the sink when she finally got out, her skin wrinkled and seared. “Hello?” Shoot, her voice still trembled. She shivered a little, pulling on a sweatshirt, her yoga pants.

“Raina! It’s Grace.”

She put the phone on speaker, then grabbed a towel to dry off her hair. “Grace! How are you?”

“I’m actually on my way north. Ivy’s in labor; she’s been ambulanced to Duluth.”

“Oh no . . .”

“Yeah, I know. I’m with Eden
 
—”

“Hey, Raina!” Eden’s voice came across the line.

“I know this will sound weird, but . . . have you seen Casper?”

She stilled. “Why?”

Silence, then, “Because Amelia seemed to think he might be spending time with you.”

Amelia was home? “I thought she was in Europe.”

“Long story
 
—I think. I haven’t gotten all of it, but . . . um, why did she think that?”

Raina sighed. “Because we’ve been . . . we’re friends again.” Or they were. Until today. “Actually, he just dropped me off. We were working on a project together.”

More silence.

“Don’t worry, Grace. The whole thing is too complicated. Trust me
 
—this time Casper won’t be sticking around.”

She heard a sigh on the other end. “I’m not worried about Casper. How are
you
?”

That was all it took. Grace’s gentle prodding, the memory of her friendship, her willingness to keep her secrets. Raina picked up the phone, climbed into bed, and told her everything.

Landing the job at the antique shop.

Discovering the diary.

Meeting Monte.

Finding Casper at the historical society and letting him woo her into the mystery.

Or maybe she’d wooed him.

Monte’s strange jealousy.

Their trip to Aggie and Thor’s.

And finally, the adoption.

“You told him you were keeping the baby?” This from Eden, who had listened with the same compassion Grace showed.

“Yeah. He completely freaked out. And I don’t blame him.” Maybe she shouldn’t have told them about the kiss.

“I do,” Eden said. “Because if anyone could step in and be an awesome father to this baby, it’s Casper. No one knows how to forgive, how to fill in and save the day, like Casper. He’s loyal and
sweet and frankly, the one who cares the most about keeping the rest of us out of trouble
 
—”

“It doesn’t matter. Casper would be a great dad. But he doesn’t want the job.” Raina got up, stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair had thinned again after the baby, and she looked gaunt and pale. “But I do
 
—”

“Raina, are you here?” The voice emerged over the sound of her front door opening.

“I gotta run,” she said to Grace. “Don’t tell anyone
 
—”

Monte appeared at her door, wearing work pants and a sweatshirt, his face drawn in a scowl. “Don’t tell anyone what?”

She dropped the phone on the bed and found a smile for him as she walked over to hug him. “Hi.”

He narrowed his eyes, backed away from her kiss. “I know you have a secret, Raina. And I want to know what it is. Where are the bonds? I know you and Casper are hiding them from me. I’ve been through all Aggie’s things and up at her house all day. Where are they?”

She stared at him. “I don’t know where the bonds are. I’m not hiding
 
—”

“I’ve been calling you all day! Where were you?”

He reached out and in a second had grabbed her phone off the bed. She watched him disconnect it, a sliver of horror twining through her that perhaps Grace had heard everything. But she stayed still as he scrolled through her recent calls, frowning at the last one, then held up the list. Seven missed calls.

Because she’d been out of range.

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed, debating. But he deserved the truth, at least the one that mattered. “I had a court meeting today . . .” She took his hand. “I need to tell you something.”

He didn’t close his grip, just frowned, one lethal eyebrow dipping.

“I had a baby in January.”

His frown deepened.

“I gave her up for adoption. But . . . uh . . . the adoption fell through.”

She could see him trying to keep up, replaying her words in his head. Then he turned and stalked away from her, into the next room.

“Monte, I was going to tell you
 
—”

“When?” He rounded on her. “You don’t think I deserved to know?” His face darkened. “All those times you pushed me away. I thought maybe you were just nervous or a prude. But no
 
—you gave it up for someone else. Who
 
—?” His mouth opened, eyes widening. “Casper Christiansen. He’s the father of your child, isn’t he?”

“No. He’s not.”

Monte closed the gap between them. “Then who was he?” He stood over her, fury radiating off him.

“It doesn’t matter
 
—he’s not in the picture anymore.” She put her hand out to touch his chest, but he slapped it away.

“Tell me.”

She swallowed. “Owen. Owen Christiansen.”

A strange smile slid up his face. “Nice. So you sleep with one brother, then tease the second.”

“No, I didn’t . . .” But his words turned her to ash.

“So now what? Don’t tell me you’re going to keep the baby?”

At her silence, he shook his head. “Seriously?”

“I thought
 
—well, I am her mother.”

He laughed, something sharp and brutal. “Right. You, a mother? You would make a terrible mother.”

She closed her mouth, her words vanishing.

“You have nothing, Raina. You
are
nothing. You barely have a job
 
—if I decide to keep you employed after today
 
—and can hardly take care of yourself. Do you seriously expect to be able to raise a child?”

She frowned. “I . . . Yes. I . . . I practically raised my brother
 
—”

“Yeah, and where is he now?” He looked at her, lifted an eyebrow.

Raina bit her lip, letting the blood fill her mouth, wishing she hadn’t told him about Joey’s death.

Monte sighed. “Fine. Okay. So you wanted to raise this kid. I get that. You have a lot of foolish ideas. But listen.” He came over to her, cupped her face in his hands. “I’m willing to forget all this. Put it behind me.” He ran his thumbs over her cheeks. “You made a mistake. It’s not the end of the world.”

Then he smiled and she didn’t know what to do with her feelings, the way they tumbled around inside her. “Really?”

“Yeah. Of course. I can forget the Owen thing and the kid. I mean, I’ll try.” His mouth lifted in a half smile. “You might have to work at it a bit, though, to help me.”

And then he kissed her. Not gentle, but with possession in his touch. He pushed her up against the doorframe, his hands on her waist. His mouth moved to her neck. “And here I thought I was dating a good girl.”

She stiffened, but his hands moved to her shoulders to pin her to the wall. He lifted his head, his eyes in hers, dark. Angry. “How many other men have you slept with?”

Her mouth dried. “Monte, I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Oh yeah, you are.” He kissed her again, pulling her to himself, rough. She wrestled against him as he pushed her to the sofa. She fell over the arm, landing in the cushions, Monte standing over her.

He unzipped his sweatshirt.

She rolled off the sofa onto the floor, finding her feet. “Monte
 
—I think you should leave.”

“You do, huh?” He advanced toward her.

She backed up, her hand out. “I know you’re mad, but
 
—”

“Oh, honey. I’m not mad.” He leaned in, his finger at the base of her neck, tracing the well of her throat. “I’m going to make you forget all about Owen
 
—and Casper
 
—Christiansen.”

Yeah, well, she didn’t want to forget Casper Christiansen
 
—or Owen, for that matter. Because he’d given her a child, and even if their union had been wrong, Layla wasn’t. And even if Casper wasn’t in her life, he’d made her believe in herself, taught her that a girl could make mistakes, but it didn’t mean she didn’t deserve a happy ending.

It doesn’t mean you won’t make an amazing mother someday. Actually, it doesn’t even mean that you weren’t
already
an amazing mother to Layla.

She
would
be a great mother. They might not be rich
 
—they might struggle
 
—but what if she chose to lean into the hope that God did see her? Did love her? What if she embraced Thor’s words, like Aggie had, and looked at God instead of at herself, believing His love for her because of who He said He was, not disqualifying it because of her mistakes, her sins, her shame? Not telling herself that she deserved less
 
—but wildly reaching for love?

Her grip closed around the Bible
 
—Aggie’s hardcover family Bible that she’d returned to the living room.

Monte closed his hand around her neck, tightening.

In one quick move, Raina raised the book and, with everything inside her, slammed it against his head.

He howled, and the act loosened his grip, knocked him into the fireplace.

Raina didn’t stick around. She dropped the Bible and opened the door to run.

And right there stood Casper.