“Maybe her father will go intimidate the kid into submission,” Logan suggested.
“Yeah, maybe.” Melanie chuckled. “It couldn’t hurt.”
But it wouldn’t last. The Simons of the world got older and meaner. Sometimes they hid their behavior better, but ever so slowly, they sucked away a woman’s sense of self-respect. They made the world seem harsher, crueler, lonelier. They made her question if she really had what it took to start over again.
The hotel door opened, and Tilly came out with her suitcase in tow, followed by Simon who stopped in the doorway. Tilly paused to kiss him, and Simon turned his face away. Melanie got out.
“Where are your other bags?” she asked.
“In the trunk, still.”
Simon got them out, and after Logan got them stowed in the back of the vehicle, Simon headed back toward the hotel room.
“Did you want the front, Tilly?” Melanie asked.
“No, I’d rather have the back.” Tilly settled herself in the back seat and Melanie and Logan got back in.
Simon stood in that doorway until they had driven away, and Melanie looked over her shoulder at her stepdaughter.
“What did you say to him?” Melanie asked.
“I just said that I’d called you all the way out here, and I couldn’t make you go back without me. You’d tell my father he was a monster and my dad would call the cops on him.”
Melanie chuckled. “That’s it?”
“I also told him that if he’d been decent to me, I would never have called you. And I need time to think.”
“You’re going to be okay, Tilly,” Melanie said.
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” Tilly said, her voice shaking.
“Okay...” Melanie picked up her phone and typed in a text to Adam.
Tilly called me, and I picked her up from Brigham, and she’ll be waiting for you to come get her tomorrow.
There was no immediate reply—he might even be on a flight back already, she wasn’t sure. She tucked her phone away again and she leaned her head back, watching the dark road.
This wouldn’t be the last time Tilly faced this kind of thing. But every time a woman stood up for herself and decided on her own self-worth, it became a little bit easier.
Logan reached over and took her hand. She hesitated, then twined her fingers through his, because while Melanie was perfectly willing to face life alone, for tonight, she’d accept a little comfort.
LOGAN DROVE BACK to the lodge where Melanie took his place behind the wheel. Tilly had fallen asleep in the back seat, and Melanie unrolled the window to say goodbye.
“It’s almost morning,” Logan said. “In fact—” he looked at his phone “—it is morning. It’s five.”
“What time is the funeral?” she asked.
“It’s at noon, but Mel, you don’t have to come with me,” he said. “You have your own stuff to take care of.”
“How about you give me the address, and I’ll do my best without promises,” she suggested.
That sounded a lot fairer, so he texted her the address of the church and tucked his phone away again.
“Thank you for coming along tonight,” Melanie said, her warm gaze meeting his, then she stifled a yawn.
“Not a problem,” he said. “Glad I could help.”
What he felt was much deeper than that, however. He was glad he could be a part of this, be a support for Melanie. He owed her that much—to make a few of her burdens a little easier to bear. Maybe this was atonement—like delivering the box to his father had been.
Logan tapped the hood of the vehicle in farewell and headed up toward the front door of the lodge. The sun’s rays were peeking over the tops of the mountains, and he swallowed a yawn of his own. He’d sleep for a few hours, and then get ready to bury his father.
Maybe it was better to have been out tonight—distraction from deeper feelings seemed to be his MO. He’d be dealing with his father’s death for a very long time to come, he was sure. But not at this moment.
THE FUNERAL WAS held at a local church in downtown Mountain Springs, an ornate building with a tall steeple nestled between lilac and rose bushes. The lilacs were in bloom and the roses only had buds, but the fragrance was comforting. A discreet sign had been erected in front saying that the church was reserved for a private event, but that didn’t stop a few tourists from stopping to take photos, anyway.
Logan wasn’t sure if Melanie would come. She’d be exhausted and he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t make it, but a few minutes after he arrived dressed in an appropriately dark charcoal-gray suit, he spotted Melanie coming through the front doors of the church. Her sleeveless black dress was simple, and a pair of pearl earrings were the only jewelry he could spot.
She was gorgeous, her chocolate-brown hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, and she paused, scanning the crowd until she spotted him. She didn’t smile, but she crossed the foyer toward him, pausing to say hello to a few people as she went.
“Hi,” Melanie said when she reached him. “I made it.”
“You look great,” he said quietly.
“I tried.” She smiled faintly then. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m—” He licked his lips. He wasn’t sure how he felt. This was a strange farewell to a man who’d held himself back for all of Logan’s life. “I’m not sure if what I’ve planned to say is going to go over too well with this crowd.”
“Most of these people aren’t his children,” she replied. “I don’t think it matters if they like it or not. Funerals are for the family, aren’t they?”
Logan shrugged. “You might have a point. My siblings might not like it, either, though.”
She smiled at that. “You always were a bit of a rebel, Logan. I say roll with it.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Organ music swelled
