“I understand that, but money and architecture don’t matter when your safety is at risk. You needed a security door and the locks changed, so I made sure it happened.”
“Thank you again,” Bailey said, nudging the check back toward him.
Ryan chuckled. “I’m not taking that. Consider it a bonus for the bookkeeping. How about I sweeten the deal and promise to help you research this adoption stuff.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” She smiled widely. “You were already going to help me.”
He snapped his fingers. “Right.”
“I need to finish my mom’s house and see what else I can find. I know it’s not glamorous work, but…”
“And paying El Lago bills is glamorous?” His smile faded. “I’m in, whatever you need.”
“But you agree with Dex. You don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Not necessarily.” He lifted his feet and propped them on a box of Jack Daniels. The El Lago office was also used for overflow storage space. “I understand you need to know. I would, too.”
“But…”
“But I’m afraid you’re not going to like what you find out, and you need to prepare yourself for it.” He stared at her for a long moment. “A story like this, abandoned babies and…well…” He shrugged. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“I’m not hopeful. I don’t expect to find my long lost biological mother and have this healthy, happy reunion. I just want to know where I came from, who left me, and what led to that type of choice. Was I left there to die? Was the Mortons’ house picked on purpose or, I don’t know, was I thrown from the car window in a desperate attempt to make me stop crying?”
Ryan nodded and looked down at his linked fingers. “I understand that, and I support it, but what if you never have those answers?”
“Then I’ll deal with that, but I want to try.”
Ryan nodded again, turning his eyes away.
“So…” Bailey grimaced. “Are you going to help me?
“Yeah, you know I’ll do what I can.”
She exhaled in relief. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Did you really think I’d say no?”
“You didn’t say yes just to spite Dex, did you?”
“I don’t make my decisions based on what Dex says.”
She lowered her eyes. “He refuses to help me.”
“I knew he didn’t like the idea, but I thought he’d give in.” Ryan sat there quietly for a few seconds, then let out a long exhale. “Bay—”
“Don’t, Ryan. I know you think I should break up with him, but he has a right to his opinion.”
“This isn’t a matter of opinion, Bailey. You support the people you love even when you don’t agree with them. You show up for the people you care about. You’d stand behind him if the roles were reversed.”
She nodded. “Of course I would.”
Ryan dropped his feet and stood. “Of course you would,” he said as he left the room.
Bailey made the last entry into the spreadsheet and closed Excel. “God, I hate when he’s right.” She heard Ryan’s chuckle mixed with footsteps on the hardwood floor as he walked toward the stage. “I hate you sometimes,” she shouted.
“I know. I love you, too, sweetheart.” A few seconds later, a booming guitar riff broke the quiet.
Bailey rolled her eyes. “He’s such a brat.”
CHAPTER SIX
Ryan set up the new talent at El Lago and left to help Bailey with the house. He had booked a new band, Kwikie. They were a hot ticket in Reno, but often the people in South Lake Tahoe were more fastidious than the tourists in Reno, especially when it came to their music.
After the warm-up, he waited until they were two songs in before he left. He was being over-cautious, but this was his club, his crowd, and he didn’t want to let anyone down.
When he arrived at Helen’s house, he found Bailey sitting in the music room, her gaze focused out the window and locked on the dark lake. Ryan went in, making a little noise this time to keep from scaring her again.
She didn’t turn around, and he thought he heard her sniffle. “I think this is the stillest I’ve ever seen you.”
Bailey nodded then chuckled. “This room looks fabulous. You did a great job. I couldn’t find anything to clean, so I decided to just sit here for a minute.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“No.” She stood and turned. “I’m going to finish the living room. Do you want to help me?”
“Yeah, unless you want me to work in another room.”
“No, I think it’ll be faster if we work together.”
Ryan nodded and pretended he didn’t notice her deep, whiskey-colored eyes were puffy. Bailey had her hair loose around her face, and as she pushed it behind her ears, he thought she looked tired. He didn’t know why she tried so hard to deal with this on her own. Her refusal to share her grief bothered him. He left it alone, though. If she needed to keep her pain private, he wouldn’t interfere.
Once downstairs, Ryan started with the piles of paperback books behind Helen’s favorite recliner. He didn’t want Bailey to come behind him and repack the boxes, so he tried to keep it as neat and orderly as possible to keep her happy.
After he stored the third box in the garage, he went back inside and found Bailey sitting in the desk chair, staring at a short letter. It looked creased and worn as if it’d been read many times. He leaned over her shoulder to read the words scribbled on the paper.
“Who’s that from?” he asked, making her jerk at the noise.
“Uh…it’s from my dad’s brother, Pat.”
She lifted the note for Ryan to read.
Dear Helen,
I know you blame me. You’ve made me the bad guy in this, but we—you and I—know the real truth, and so did Ernie. That is a fact you have to live with. You are just as guilty, and time will not erase that.
Refuse
