Just Say Maybe: A Thistle Bend Novel (20 page)

Bryce’s heart stammered. He tried to catch Holly’s gaze, but she wouldn’t look his way.

“Easement or not,” Fred said. “I’ll be damned if you’re going to run a road through my greenhouse to get to that godforsaken lodge.”

Nick raised his hand, palm out. “I had no idea the Garland property was also Birdsong Farm.”

“My wife was a Garland. Camille Garland was her maiden name.” Fred cut a sharp look at Bryce. “I’ve got a sneaking suspicion you might’ve known that, since Holly’s name is Holly
Garland
Birdsong.”

Bryce’s stomach pitched.

H. G. Birdsong—Holly Garland.

“I didn’t know what the G stood for.” Bryce looked at Holly to validate his claim—her middle name had never come up in conversation.

Holly stood there, her lips rolled inward, her eyebrows lowered as if she were gauging the plausibility of Fred’s suspicion.

“You knew that pass was in bad shape,” Fred said. “Seems as if you had a slick contingency plan to pave your way for this alternate route—buttering us up. Hiring Holly to represent you at closing. Leading her on. Bringing us lunch, and giving us your sentimental speech. Even working in the garden. Just so you could come along and cut a road through our property. Doesn’t seem to be a whit of difference between you and Adam Evanston.”

Bryce winced.

Both George and Nick looked bewildered. Bryce imagined he did, too. He certainly hadn’t seen this coming.

Holly locked her gaze on his, a mix of shock and confusion in her eyes. “Whatever you did or didn’t know, I can’t believe you’d even consider this after everything…” She shook her head slowly.

Bryce stepped toward her, but she backed away.

“Forget it, Mr. Bennett,” Fred said, setting his sharp gaze on Bryce, then Nick and George. “Now, if all of you would kindly leave our property.” He took Holly by the arm. “Come on, Holly.”

She cast a final disappointed look at Bryce as she turned her back to him, and walked away with Fred.

Bryce raced after them. “Holly, wait,” he called, desperate to defend himself.

She stopped and faced him, appearing dazed. “I need some time to think this through, Bryce. I don’t know if the lodge thing is going to work out for you or not.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “But under the circumstances, it’d be best for you to get a different lawyer.”

Bryce stood there stunned as Holly and Fred disappeared into the nearby aspen grove. He swallowed hard, working to avoid the curious gazes of George and Nick. His mind reeled.

How did this happen?

Within an hour he’d lost the pass up to the lodge. He’d lost hope that the project was still feasible. And worst of all, he might have lost Holly.

Caught up in an emotional landslide, Holly sat across from Lindsey and Carden in one of the high-backed gray-plank booths in the High Country Pub, cold beers in front of them. Since she and her grandpa had caught Bryce, George, and Nick surveying the Garland land, she’d been numbly considering her grandpa’s theory about Bryce. Had everything between them been part of a larger scheme?

She had turned to the comfort of her old blue jeans and her favorite flannel shirt, and friends she trusted to give her truthful advice. There was no better place to commiserate than the pub, with its familiar atmosphere—wide-plank floors, dim lighting, neon beer signs, and a welcoming bar. The scent of whiskey tinged the air, and a real, old-fashioned jukebox played country music—Brantley Gilbert singing “Bottoms Up.” Perfect advice for Holly tonight.

She took a swallow of her beer. “Do you think I fell for an act with Bryce?” she asked. After all he’d researched—all they’d researched together—was it possible that he hadn’t known that the property adjacent to the lodge parcel belonged to her family?

Lindsey lowered her eyebrows and shot Holly an are-you-crazy look. “I can’t say for sure, but who could blame you if you did? Dude is a smooth operator, and super-easy on the eyes. He’s got the kind of swagger that can scramble a girl’s good sense.”

Carden nudged her shoulder. “Like me?”

“Exactly.” Lindsey kissed him on the cheek. “Only you’re definitely not a schemer.”

Holly took another sip of beer, blinking several times, still dazed by what had happened. “I’m trying to process it all. If what my grandpa thinks is true, I’m trying to figure out how I missed all the signs and fell so hard for Bryce. Meeting him up on the ridge trail was pure coincidence, and it was so unlike me to give him my number. But he didn’t call or text. Remember?”

Lindsey scrunched her face. Prone to less drama, Carden kept a more neutral expression. There were likely plenty of times in his most-eligible-bachelor days when he’d done the same thing.

“But along he came soon afterward, looking like he stepped out of an ad for a rugged off-road SUV, trying to find H. G. Birdsong. To his credit—although I’m not sure I should give him any—he probably didn’t realize that H. G. Birdsong was the same girl from the mountain.” Holly’s heart thudded hollowly. “It might’ve just been the Birdsong part he was interested in.

“Bryce had seen the condition of the pass when he’d come to Thistle Bend a month ago to look at the lodge,” she said. “Any shrewd businessperson would research repair alternatives and routes before putting in a high-stakes offer on a place like that, wouldn’t they?” She propped her fist beneath her chin and tapped her index finger against her lips. “Nick and George might not have known that the Garland property is also Birdsong Farm, but it wouldn’t have been too hard to find out. And if Bryce came armed with that information, it wouldn’t have mattered who H. G. Birdsong had turned out to be. He could’ve planned to get chummy with that person just in case he needed to build his access road someday. Imagine his delight when H. G. Birdsong turned out to be me—the fawning single girl from the ridge trail who’d put her number into his phone.”

“But didn’t George recommend you to Bryce?” Carden asked.

Holly shrugged her shoulders weakly. “So Bryce said. But he also said a lot of other things that might turn out to be lies.”

“God, Holly. This is a fantasy.”

“Hopefully we’ll be doing this forever, but we’ll only have one first time.”

She swallowed back the embarrassment of having believed him, even as a little part of her heart held out hope that he’d meant what he said.

“Maybe George gave him a couple of lawyers’ cards,” she said. “And when Bryce saw Birdsong, he figured he’d hit pay dirt.”

Lindsey bunched her lips, seemingly deep in thought.

Carden leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “You’re just askin’ for it when you do that, darlin’.” He grinned.

Lindsey rolled her eyes, yet rested her head on his shoulder, looking content.

They were just plain adorable, and Holly couldn’t be happier for them. But seeing how good a relationship could be made her feel even more miserable—especially since she’d been falling in love herself.

“With a young man who didn’t deserve her”?

Merri’s words echoed in her thoughts.

“But sometimes we have to learn things the hard way.”

And there Holly was. Learning.

“So when you barely seemed interested in representing him, much less too keen on the lodge, he invited you to go up there with him,” Lindsey said. “Brought wine, told you some cool things about himself, curled your toes with that first kiss.”

Holly sighed.

“Same thing happened to you with our first kiss,” Carden said to Lindsey.

She grinned. “How do you know?”

Carden took a slow sip of his beer and gave her a sidelong glance. “Trust me. A guy knows.”

“Great,” Holly said. “I might’ve felt a little better if he didn’t know he got to me.”

Carden gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry, Hol.”

Holly grinned a little. She loved him for trying to lighten things up in his quirky Carden way.

“Then you guys found the suite,” Lindsey said. “That gave him another way to get you interested in the place. So he invited you back there a second time.”

“And lulled me into telling him my family’s story about the lodge.” Beer fizzed in Holly’s stomach. “About my grandma. God, I wish I could take it all back.”

Don’t I?

“Imagine what he must’ve been thinking when he heard that story,” Lindsey said. “If what Fred believes is true, Bryce had to have been scrambling, trying to figure out how to turn things around. Maybe if he cozied up to your grandpa, and acted interested in his garden, things were more likely to go his way when it came time to cut the road through. And if he had you completely smitten by then, all the better.”

That box had definitely been checked. Bryce had had Holly buying it all and ordering more with his sexy seductions and sensitive stories about losing James, and getting dumped by Whitney.

“I still can’t believe he thought it would work,” Holly said. “Not between him and me, but the whole plan to cut a road through Birdsong Farm—through Grandpa’s greenhouse.”

Lindsey set her gaze on Holly. “Maybe he didn’t plan for it to happen this soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine if the landslide hadn’t happened last night,” Lindsey said. “He’d resolved his issue with the woman from the suite. Everything was full speed ahead with the inspections and the closing. The existing pass would’ve worked fine during renovations, and maybe even for guest traffic for a while. A few minor repairs might’ve kept it useful for who knows how long.”

Holly nodded with chagrin. “And by then I would’ve been a goner. Who knows how deep in I would’ve been with him, or how close my poor grandpa would’ve gotten to Bryce with him working in the garden, and listening to stories about my grandma.”

Lindsey scowled. “He would’ve been paving the way for that road the whole time.”

Both Holly and Carden gave her pained looks.

“You did not just say that,” Carden said.

Lindsey feigned offense, her jaw slack. “Come on. It was clever.”

“A little.” Holly forced a small smile. “But is that what you guys think? Or could this all be a huge misunderstanding?”

Lindsey shook her head, more serious now. “I’m sorry, but Fred’s suspicions seem to add up. Even so, it could be a bunch of crazy coincidences that make Bryce seem like someone he’s not. Until today, we both had him pegged as perfect, so maybe you should give him a chance to explain.”

“I hope Fred is wrong on this one,” Carden said. “But if he isn’t, I’m trying to understand why everyone is so surprised.”

Holly frowned.

Lindsey elbowed Carden. “Because he’s so incredibly charming, and he seemed so genuine.”

“Charming or not,” he said. “It’s been proven time after time that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Holly drew her head back, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Carden looked perplexed. “Milly and Merri were out in the garden talking about Bryce while I was up on the roof fixing the gutter this afternoon. They said the difference between him and his father is remarkable—that Adam Evanston had brought nothing but bad to Thistle Bend with the lodge, but Bryce seemed committed to renovating it for good. Turns out he might not be that different from his dad.” Carden drained his beer.

Adam Evanston is Bryce’s father?

Holly’s stomach lurched. Heat radiated in her face with each beat of her thudding heart.

Wide-eyed, Lindsey shifted her gaze between Carden and Holly.

“That’s sick.” Holly’s voice was low and trembling. “And not in a good way.” So many things started to make sense.

Carden winced. “I figured you knew. You two seemed like an odd match, considering, but I gave you and Fred a lot of credit for looking past it and giving Bryce a chance.”

“How did Milly and Merri find out that Adam Evanston is Bryce’s father?” Holly asked.

And why hadn’t they mentioned it?

Carden shook his head. “They might’ve said, but not while I was in earshot. You know Milly and Merri—sometimes they just sense those things. But Milly did mention that Bryce had the exact same mannerisms as Adam, and Merri said that once she saw Bryce’s eyes, there was no mistaking that he was Adam’s son.”

Holly squeezed her eyes closed for a second, her thoughts reeling.

“Watch out for those two little ladies. They’re sweet enough, but I swear they can see right through you. Like they know what you’re thinking before you even know yourself.”

Dean was right. Clearly Milly and Merri had seen right through Bryce—at least when it came to his hidden identity.

“Did you catch anything else they said?” Holly didn’t know if she could stand to hear any more, but she had to ask.

Carden shook his head, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to recall a conversation he hadn’t been paying full attention to. “Maybe that Bryce wanted to know if his father had been responsible for something awful happening to Victoria. Does that make any sense?”

Suddenly Holly understood Bryce’s real concern about the woman who’d lived in the suite. No wonder he hadn’t wanted anyone to become suspicious about what had happened to her. They might’ve connected Bryce to his father.

“I’m certain you understand why we’d like to keep this quiet.”

Merri had clutched Bryce’s hand, looked him in the eyes, and said that. She’d given it away right then and there, and Holly hadn’t even blinked.

“It was all a lie,” she murmured, having little doubt that what her grandpa had sensed about Bryce was true. And she would feel like a fool for a long, long time because she’d fallen for it with every single kiss.

Bryce sat in an Adirondack chair by the fire he’d built in the stone pit by the riverbank behind his cabin. Beneath an open sky, twinkling stars, and a nearly full moon, the river lazily trickled down its path. It was a gorgeous late-spring night in the Rockies, cool and still, with distant mountain peaks silhouetted against the moonlight. The perfect calm after the storm.

“The damage is substantial.”

He picked up another yellowed Thistle Bend newspaper from the stack next to his chair, rolled it tightly, and tossed it into the fire. The flames flared, eagerly consuming the fuel.

“I need some time to think this through, Bryce. I don’t know if the lodge thing is going to work out for you or not. But under the circumstances, it’d be best for you to get a different lawyer.”

Had Bryce had any idea that the Garland property Nick had referred to was Birdsong Farm, he never would’ve stepped foot on it, much less entertained cutting a road through Fred’s beloved greenhouse. And shouldn’t Holly have known that about him? He had thought they were connecting on all levels.

Intellectually.

Emotionally.

Physically.

Clearly they had not been, since she’d walked away from him today. He’d gone after her once, determined to defend himself against Fred’s suspicions. After all that Fred had suffered because of the lodge, Bryce could understand why he’d reacted as he had, even though all his accusations had been unfounded. But Holly had left him standing there like a fool—in front of George and Nick. At least she hadn’t seemed to leap as quickly to the same conclusions as had Fred. Yet if she thought so little of him that she couldn’t take a minute to listen to his side of things, hell if he would go after her again.

Bryce picked up his longneck beer from the ground next to the chair, and took a long slug. Obviously he was challenged when it came to reading women. He’d been ready to ask Whitney to live with him, and she’d been practically engaged to someone else. But things had seemed entirely different with Holly. He’d really opened up to her, and she’d had him convinced that she
got
him—that the two of them had a shot.

“Bryce?”

The girl had him damn near crazy because now he was hearing her call his name. But her tone was nothing like the one she’d taken on the mountain after he’d fallen off his bike.

“Are you okay?”

If only he could go back and start over. But what could he have done differently?

His heart flinched as Holly appeared next to the empty chair beside him, looking beautiful in the moonlight, wearing worn blue jeans and a flannel shirt.

He stood. “I didn’t hear you drive up,” he said flatly. “What are you doing here, Holly? You didn’t want an explanation from me this afternoon when we were in front of people, but you’ve decided you want one now?” It was difficult for him to be terse with her, despite how much she had hurt him.

“No, I’m pretty squared away with everything that’s happened.” Her tone was equally as flat as his, with a thread of anger laced through it. “My grandpa summed it up pretty well this afternoon.”

Fred’s words had played on a miserable repeat in Bryce’s head ever since.

“You knew that pass was in bad shape. Seems as if you had a slick contingency plan to pave your way for this alternate route. Buttering us up. Hiring Holly to represent you at closing. Leading her on. Bringing us lunch, and giving us your sentimental speech. Even working in the garden. Just so you could come along and cut a road through our property. Doesn’t seem to be a whit of difference between you and Adam Evanston.”