The Wrong Man. Laura Abbot

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СКАЧАТЬ and “Doug” in the same sentence caused butterflies to converge in Libby’s stomach. It didn’t help that Mary was beaming approval that had nothing to do with Libby’s skillful handling of a second-grader’s intestinal upset.

      “Missoula?” Lois cocked an eyebrow.

      “We’re going to the symphony.”

      Lois threw up her hands in playful despair. “And here I thought you were going to hit the wild club scene.”

      Libby did her best to match the mood. “What? And miss Mozart? I’m looking forward to a bit of culture.”

      “So is Doug, my dear.” Mary patted Libby’s shoulder. “So is Doug.”

      On the ride to the garage, Libby was grateful that Lois’s chatter prevented her from dwelling on the expectant look in Mary Travers’s eyes. Worse yet, she didn’t want to consider why Mary’s approval bothered her.

      TRENT SAT at the table in the kitchenette alcove, poring over figures. In front of him was Chad’s printout of estimated start-up costs, profit-and-loss statements from the last three years, and a breakdown of income generated by the various services Swan Mountain Adventures offered. Because of recent forest fires in the area, the current owners were making them a heck of a deal. Chad had the people skills and the business background to handle accounting and marketing, and Trent knew equipment and maintenance. They shared knowledge of the outdoors and expertise in guiding. With hard work and a bit of luck, the venture looked like a winner.

      Setting down the pencil, he stared into the living room, where Kylie sat on the floor, Barbies positioned around her in a protective circle. She mumbled dialogue as she picked up first one and then another of the well-endowed dolls. “Mommy doesn’t want you to wear orange with red,” he heard her chide the platinum-blond figure. She shook her head disapprovingly. “They don’t match.”

      He closed his eyes briefly. Ashley had been a clotheshorse, occasionally straining their finances with her need to look bandbox perfect, but he had to give it to her. Heads had turned when she walked into a room. Kylie’s prissiness, on the other hand, worried him. It was as if she’d seized on her appearance as a means to…what? Control her world? Keep Ashley’s memory alive?

      “Daddy?”

      Trent’s eyes snapped open. “What, baby?”

      “Are you doing homework?”

      “I guess you could call it that.”

      She set down the doll and approached him, her forehead wrinkled. “You don’t go to school.”

      “No, but I work.”

      Sidling up to him, she put her thin arm around his neck. “With tools. You’re a carmpenter.”

      Her mispronunciation of the word never failed to amuse him. “Car-pen-ter.” He ruffled her hair, then drew a deep breath before launching the subject he’d been avoiding. “What if I didn’t want to be a carpenter any longer?”

      Eyes widening, she looked at him as if he’d just emerged from a UFO. “Not be a carmpenter? What would you be then?” Before he could begin his carefully reasoned explanation, she hurried on. “I know! You could be the boss, like Grandpa Gus.”

      He pulled her up on his lap, snuggling her against his chest. “No, honey, I couldn’t. Even if I were the boss, I would still miss doing all the things I love.”

      “You don’t love carmpentry?” She sounded surprised, as if fathers weren’t supposed to change—ever.

      “No, honey, I don’t. I love hiking and skiing and fishing and being out-of-doors.”

      “Oh.” She nodded her head in understanding.

      “You want to play, not work.”

      Play? Was that what this was? An immature need to recapture his adolescence?

      “What if my work felt like play?”

      She giggled. “That’s silly, Daddy.”

      “What if I could be—” he hesitated, his mouth dry “—happier?”

      Lifting one small hand to his cheek, she studied him. “We’re sad, aren’t we? We miss Mommy, right?”

      “But Mommy would want us to be happy again, to laugh and play.”

      “Okay,” she said, as if the matter was settled.

      Okay? If only it could be that simple. He had gone back and forth about the best way to break the news to Kylie, but now that the time had come, the words stuck in his throat. He licked his lips, cuddled her closer, and then, with a deep breath, began, “I have something important to tell you, and I want you to listen carefully.”

      “It’s about Mommy, isn’t it?”

      “Not exactly.”

      She rubbed her nose. “I know. About your carmpentry.”

      “Yes. Yesterday I told Grandpa that I won’t be working for him anymore.” Much as he’d dreaded telling Gus his plans, Trent had been relieved when, despite his obvious disappointment, his father-in-law had claimed to understand. Now he said to Kylie, “I’ve accepted a job in a place called Whitefish that will make me much happier. I think you’ll really love it there.”

      “We’re moving?”

      Swallowing hard, he nodded.

      She jumped from his lap and stood glaring at him, her fingers working the lace trim of her sweatshirt. “No!”

      “But, honey—”

      “I’m not going.” Her protruding lower lip sent a powerful message.

      “Just now you said it would be okay for us to learn to laugh and play again.”

      She stamped her foot. “But right here.”

      Tension knotted Trent’s gut. “You’ll like Whitefish. It’s where I went to school.”

      “I don’t like fish!”

      “There are lakes and mountains. You can learn to ski and snowshoe and—”

      “No.” She shook her head back and forth, her straight blond hair fanning the air. “We can’t leave.”

      Trent tried desperately to see the situation from his daughter’s point of view. She’d had too many changes lately. Did he have any right to inflict one more on her, even one that would free him in ways that made him light-headed with relief? “Why not?”

      Kylie stood stock-still, looking at him as if he had just asked the world’s most ridiculous question. “Because Mommy’s here.”

      His chest ached. “Sweetie, we’ve been over this so many times. Mommy is dead. Even though she is never coming back, she is always with us in spirit, but she isn’t in Billings.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ