The Love That Saved Him Read online

  Glancing up, she watched the clouds begin to gather once more. If this weather continued, as the forecast predicted, they’d have to invest in a new snow plough soon. With their home placed a good quarter mile away from the country road, they had to be ready to clear it. The municipal’s Operations Department would handle the rest, although it generally took time for them to get all the way out here since high traffic main roads were their first priority. Looking back at the office, Sarah thought of what her grandfather had said and took a deep breath. For a man his age, he still seemed surprisingly active. But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit he’d appeared increasingly tired over the course of the past year. Uneasiness bore its way through her. Was he truly worried about his own demise? At eighty five he had to be, she supposed, but the way he’d spoken about it troubled her. It was as if he feared he would die before he was ready.

  Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she blew out a breath and watched as it curled in white wispy tufts through the air. Majestic firs crowded the landscape on all sides. Nobody was ever ready to die, but he was obviously set on doing whatever he could to ensure she’d be able to support herself after. She loved him for caring so much, even though the thought of one day losing him broke her heart. Still… She shook her head, unable to stop smiling as it dawned on her how manipulative he was being – using his advanced years in order to get his way.

  Very well then. If he meant to find a fortune in gold during their next season up here, then by God, she would help him do it.

  Chapter Two

  It was still dark outside when Pierce awoke, his feet landing solidly against the timber floor of his bedroom as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Turning on the bedside lamp, he forced himself to look at the photo sitting on the table, now bathed in light. His chest tightened until his heart ached. “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered while Caroline’s face smiled back at him. It seemed inconceivable that she’d been gone for more than a year and that he’d somehow managed to go on without her. He still hadn’t read the letter she’d left him and wondered if he ever would. Unable to keep on looking at it, he’d eventually slipped it inside the wedding album he kept locked away in a living room drawer.

  A memory stirred and she was suddenly in his arms, her mouth wide with laughter as he spun her about on a warm day in Central Park, the spiky grass beneath his bare feet poking its way between his toes.

  Caroline’s eyes met his, sparkling like dewdrops clinging to flower petals. “Stop!” The command was half-hearted at best and choked by mirth. It was infectious, her unrestrained exuberance. And he loved to take advantage, to tease without remorse just to see that sparkle appear, knowing it was for him. His heart squeezed and he pulled her to him, allowing momentum to carry them down, her slender body falling on his.

  “Pierce.” His name was pushed from her mouth in a gasp while blonde curls tumbled about her head.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” His hands came around her, pulling her close until finally…finally, their lips met while crowds of New Yorkers and tourists and whoever else was in the park that day wandered past. But Pierce didn’t care. He didn’t sense their presence or hear their chatter. The only thing that mattered was Caroline and how lucky he was to have met her.

  Except now she was gone, buried beneath heaps of soil and with nothing but cold gray stone to mark her resting place.

  Pushing away from the bed, Pierce stopped himself from dwelling on that particular thought – refused to let the pain in. He headed for the bathroom instead while recalling the meeting he’d set up for later in the day. Glancing at the shower, he decided to make the effort, even if they’d probably just be trudging around outside. He turned on the hot water and ran his hand along the edge of his jaw. The electric shaver sat, unused for weeks now, in a corner gathering dust. Reaching for it, Pierce flicked on the switch, took one last look at his grizzly appearance, and set the shaver to work.

  By the time he was done with everything and built a fresh fire in the wood-burning stove, it was eight o’ clock, and the early morning light was glowing warmly across the winter landscape. The day ahead stretched out before him – time that had to be filled one way or another just so he could go to bed and do it all over again the next day and the next and the one after that.

  The coffee pot beeped and he grabbed a cup from the cupboard, his thoughts going back to the woman who’d called yesterday. She hadn’t given him a name, which he’d thought slightly odd. Stranger still had been the nervousness in her voice. He couldn’t quite figure out the reason behind that, but it had certainly drawn his attention.

  His fingers curled tightly around the cup’s handle, holding it steady while he poured from the pot, watching as steam rose higher and higher before fading into nothingness. Boredom, that’s what it was, the reason he’d taken to talking to Caroline as if she were in the room with him, and the same reason for the odd curiosity he now harbored for a perfect stranger.

  He glanced at the phone and considered calling his parents, then reconsidered. They rarely had anything positive to say anyway and just kept pressuring him about going to visit them. If only they would try to understand his grieving process and why it could not involve the two of them trying to activate him.

  Frank and Jenny came to mind next. He’d kept his promise to stay in touch, though he sensed they dreaded talking to him just as much as he dreaded talking to them. The painful memories were inevitable whenever they spoke, so they’d gradually begun keeping contact to a minimum. As regrettable as that development was, it was probably for the best, not just for him, but for all of them.

  The toaster popped, shifting Pierce’s thoughts back to the day ahead. “She insisted on getting the ridge,” he said, addressing the empty space. Nobody answered. Pierce took a sip of his coffee, placed the toast on a plate, and began buttering it. “Sounds like madness to me.”

  He shook his head before taking a bite of his food. More puzzling was the idea that a woman had asked about it. From what little he knew about mining, it was a tough business. A dangerous business. But perhaps she was older than she’d sounded and with decades of experience behind her.

  Knowing he would have to wait a few hours to find out more, he grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, grateful for the anchorman’s voice replacing the all-encompassing silence.

  Pulling up next to a black Jeep at a little past one o’clock, Sarah registered the large log home the new owner had built. It looked as though it belonged in the pages of a home and garden magazine, not out here in the wilderness. It had clearly cost a fortune and was much more grandiose than the smaller log cabin where Murphy had once lived. She fleetingly wondered if that place still existed somewhere further back behind the trees while allowing her gaze to roam over the newer structure. A wide gable spanned the front entrance and tall glass windows and doors opened out onto a deck turned toward the view of the mountains.

  Sarah glanced across at her grandfather, who sat stiffly in the seat beside her. “Well, we’re here. Ready to check out the ridge?”

  “It’s just a formality,” her grandfather reminded her. “I already know I want it.”

  She didn’t comment. Instead, she turned off the engine, repositioned her scarf so it covered the lower part of her face, and pulled her hood up over her head before stepping out into the cold. She’d just closed the truck door when the front door of the cabin swung open, and a man stepped out. He descended the front steps quickly and came toward them at a brisk pace. “Hello.” He extended his hand. “I’m Pierce Jackson.”

  Somehow, Sarah managed to untangle the knot her tongue had formed the moment she’d laid eyes on him. If his voice had seemed rather enticing, then the man himself was…

  Straightening her spine, she accepted the hand he offered and gave it a firm shake. “Sarah Palmer.” She gestured toward her grandfather, who stood a little off to one side. “This is Thomas Palmer, my grandfather. He and I work together. It was his idea
to come up and look at the land you’ve got to offer.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Pierce said as he shook Thomas’s hand.

  “Likewise,” Thomas said. “We’re just behind those trees – about two hundred yards away, I should think – but with all the snow we’ve been having this winter and last season keeping us occupied, I’m afraid we never managed to come and welcome you to the area.”

  Pierce crossed his arms. “It’s alright. I’ve been pretty busy myself since I moved here.”

  For reasons she could not explain, Sarah wanted to know more. “What—”

  “Sarah and I are mostly interested in the ridge,” Thomas said, cutting Sarah off and getting straight to the point. “We’re familiar with it of course, but it wouldn’t hurt to take another look, if that’s all right with you.”

  “It’s the reason why you’re here, isn’t it?” Pierce asked as he looked from one to the other. “Why don’t we grab the Argo and head on over there? If you like what you see, I’ll invite you for coffee while we go over the contract.”

  “And if we don’t like what we see?” Thomas asked with a mischievous glint to his eyes.

  “Then I’ll still invite you for coffee,” Pierce said. “Just give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

  Sarah watched him go, unable to stop herself from comparing him to Billy as he walked to the garage. Their height and hair color were similar, but Pierce was broader, his stride more solid. “Why did you cut me off before?” she asked her grandfather as she turned to face him.

  “Because you were about to pry, and if there’s one thing that man doesn’t want or need, it’s prying.”

  Sarah frowned. “I was just curious to know how he ended up here.” Her grandfather raised an eyebrow. “How do you know he wouldn’t want to tell us?”

  “Trust me. The haunted look in his eyes is more than enough. I’ve seen it before.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared straight back at her, unflinching. “Leave it alone, Sarah, and let’s just focus on what we came for.”

  For a second, she felt as if the ground was falling away beneath her feet. She didn’t need to ask what he was referring to, because she already knew. Which was why she just stood there, saying nothing, while snowflakes drifted lazily around her shoulders and until Pierce returned with his all-terrain vehicle. “Climb aboard,” he yelled over the sound of the engine.

  Leaving the front passenger seat of the Argo to her grandfather, Sarah took a seat on the back bench. Holding on tight, she anticipated the occasional bumps and a few sharp turns, enjoying the speed and the illusion that all the memories her grandfather had just stirred to life were being left far behind.

  Focus.

  That’s what she’d been doing for the past three years, and that was what she would continue to do now. So she pushed her thoughts of Billy from her mind and considered her grandfather. He needed her, depended on her, and she would not let him down.

  The Argo slowed, producing a spray of snow before coming to a stop. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Pierce asked as he looked out over the ridge at the far end of his property. It was a steep drop to the river below and equally steep on the other side too, where a grey wall of rock rose toward another peak.

  “I think it’s beautiful everywhere in the Klondike,” Sarah whispered, her voice muffled by her scarf. She spoke up, this time wanting to be heard. “Life up here can be harsh. The city folk don’t understand why anyone would choose to live in such a remote location. Personally, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. It’s just a cleaner, less complicated way of life.”

  Turning in his seat, Pierce looked at her as if she’d somehow managed to put into words an idea he’d been trying to hold onto. And she saw then, in that fraction of a second, the devastation her grandfather had spoken of earlier, only this time she felt a piece of her heart break for this man. Nobody deserved to suffer the kind of pain that left such a mark.

  Breaking eye contact, Pierce climbed out of the Argo and turned to offer her his hand. It was firm beneath her own, his arm strong and steady, supporting her weight until she reached solid ground. She barely managed to get her balance before he’d released her again and started toward the other side of the vehicle, his boots squeaking against the snow.

  “Would you like a hand as well?” he asked her grandfather, who readily accepted the offer, much to Sarah’s surprise. In her experience, Thomas liked to handle everything on his own. The fact that he was giving up some of his control to a perfect stranger reminded her that he was getting on in years.

  Disliking the thought, she chose not to dwell on it, walking out toward the edge of the ridge instead. “There’s at least twenty feet to the river below,” she called out, her voice pulled away on a gust of wind that swept in behind her. Hugging herself, she turned back to face the others. “How wide do you suppose the area is?”

  “A quarter mile, last I measured,” Pierce said. “I’ll add another quarter mile in width and sell you the claim for forty grand. How does that sound?”

  “Well,” Thomas began, “I’d say it’s probably reasonable enough if there’s gold here. But if there isn’t…” He allowed the point to remain unspoken.

  “Look, the way I see it,” Pierce said, crossing his arms, “you called as soon as my ad appeared in the paper. Furthermore, you seemed pretty eager to come take a look at it, even though I’m sure that doing so was just a formality. Your insistence on the ridge tells me you’re pretty certain of what you’ll find once you start digging. So the offer stands. Take it or leave it.”

  Watching her grandfather hesitate, Sarah decided to take charge. “You’re right, but contrary to my grandfather’s opinion, I happen to think you’re asking too much – almost twice of what we paid last year.”

  “Except last year, you were mining somewhere else,” Pierce said. “If you want the ridge, then this is the price you’ll have to pay.”

  Glancing over at her grandfather, Sarah prepared to tell Pierce Jackson they weren’t interested, only to find her grandfather telling the man, “We accept.”

  She could only stand there gaping at them both as they shook hands, completely dumbfounded by what had just happened. Finding her tongue, she walked over to her grandfather, determined to talk some sense into him. “I know you were hoping to claim the ridge, but—”

  “No buts about it, Sarah. I’ve already agreed.”

  She wanted to scream or hit something. Pierce Jackson would do nicely right now. God, she was angry with both of them, except to his credit, Pierce had no idea how much money they had at their disposal. Sure, they could dish out forty grand on the claim, but there would be other expenses on top of that, the most costly being the new equipment they needed.

  “Shall we go back to my cabin so I can print out the paperwork for you?” Pierce asked, already helping her grandfather back into the Argo.

  “Will it be served with fresh coffee?” Sarah asked, sounding more irritable than she’d intended. Too late for that now.

  “Of course,” Pierce said with a somewhat puzzled expression. Coming toward her, he held out his hand. “Would you like me to help you get in as well?”

  “Thank you, but I think I can manage.”

  Shrugging, he turned away and climbed into the front, leaving her to get in on her own. Cursing beneath her breath, Sarah scrambled on board, her butt landing on the bench with a thud. Somehow she would have to fix this before her grandfather gave up all of his hard-earned money for a dream Pierce Jackson seemed all too happy to indulge.

  “You can’t do this,” Sarah said from somewhere behind him.

  Standing in the kitchen, Pierce was measuring coffee into the coffee maker. “Do what?” he asked while trying not to lose count.

  When she spoke again, her voice was closer than before. “Insist we pay more than the property is worth.”

  He stiffened, not liking the implication that he was taking advantage of an old man and his granddaughter. “This is busin
ess,” he said. Reaching for the pot, he turned on the faucet and began adding water. “I’m not forcing you to buy the claim, but if you want it as badly as I think you do, then—”

  “The ridge is supposed to be his last big attempt at striking it rich up here. But if it doesn’t work out, he’ll lose everything at that price.”

  Pierce sympathized, but he needed the money as well. After medical bills had been paid and funeral arrangements taken care of, he’d spent whatever savings he had left on building this home and moving. His only income now would come from the shares he owned in Chemcore and from selling claims to gold miners.

  “Why the ridge?” he asked as he poured the water into the coffee maker and pressed the ON button. He turned to face her. Now that her scarf was gone from her face and she no longer wore her massive jacket, he was able to see she was younger than he’d initially thought. No more than twenty seven at most and with the kind of red hair that hadn’t come from a bottle. She looked like the sort of person who’d like to find a reason to smile, but rarely did. “Why do I get the impression it has to be the ridge or nothing at all?”

  Sighing, she slumped against the doorjamb. “Because Grandpa’s been looking at it for the last forty years.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Grandpa’s always said that considering the size of the river and way it carves its way between two mountains, the ridge must have been formed during a glacial shift which would have brought gold with it. He’s been interested in the property for a long time but never got around to claiming it until now. This is his last chance to take a run at a big strike. After all, he’s not exactly getting any younger.”

  “You think the coming season will be his last?”