LITMIR.BIZ

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of her office.

      “I think you’re right,” she said, shaking off the chill of old memories. “I need a breath of fresh air.”

      His face lit up with a smile. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

      “Emily?” she called out.

      The young woman who worked as her secretary and housekeeper stepped into the room. “Yes, Miss Carrington?”

      “Pull out my spring dresses and have Charles retrieve my trunks.” She pushed back from her desk and stood. “Some winter dresses, as well,” she added, remembering the drastic temperature fluctuations of the higher elevations.

      Emily gave a firm nod. “Right away.”

      “Your trunks?” said Regi. “You intend to take a trip now and dump this lumber mess onto my lap?”

      “Of course not. I’ll be accompanying our lawyers and accountants. I want to leave within a week.”

      Reginald stared at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted wings. “You’re not serious.”

      “Weren’t you the one just telling me I need to get out more?”

      “I meant a trip to the zoo, a stroll through the park, not jaunting off into the wilderness!”

      “How better to learn about my new company than to pay a visit? I won’t have to rely on long-distance reports. It’s the perfect solution.”

      “Lily, I.” His hands clenched into fists. “I forbid it.”

      Realizing he was quite serious, Lily couldn’t fight her smile. She was Lily Palmer Carrington, and she did as she pleased.

      Lily breathed in the strong, nostalgic scent of spruce and pine as their carriage rounded the mountainside. Her gaze moved across a green canopy of giant pines rising up from a canyon below. She had to wonder why she’d waited so long to venture beyond the crowded parlors, tight streets and stifling buildings of San Francisco.

      They’d left the valley at daybreak, and the moment they’d gone beyond the rolling green hills and into the forest of pines, she’d felt a sense of homecoming. Every bend in the road and new stretch of scenery had brought heartache and beauty … a longing for the life she’d lost.

      A few hours back they’d stopped to rest the horses. She had stepped from the carriage into a grass-filled meadow bursting with wildflowers—clusters of orange, lavender and white. Granite mountains spiked up beyond the perimeter of towering pines. It was like stepping into her childhood, surrounded by the sights and scents of home, awakening memories she hadn’t realized she’d forgotten. Her eyes had burned at the vision of her mother standing in a similar meadow … the closest she’d come to crying since her mother’s death. Perhaps this was why she’d waited so long to leave the city. It had taken this long to let go, to find her place in the confines of the Carrington family.

      A tree branch scratched across the window as the road cut inland again, and Lily sat back in her seat. Their armed guard had the best view. In front of the carriage, he rode his own mount, a beautiful black stallion. She’d been tempted to ask to sit atop the carriage with the driver, which would have been utterly inappropriate and would likely have given Reginald heart failure.

      “Would you please close that shade?” he snipped. Huddled against his side of the coach, he held one of his scented handkerchiefs over his mouth and nose. He’d been sulking beside her for the past three days. “The carriage is filling with dust.”

      She pulled down the heavy flap. Regi fanned his kerchief, wafting them with his pungent cologne.

      “Honestly, Reginald, a little dust won’t kill you.”

      “No, love, that’s your job. You may have been raised in the wild, but I was not. You heard the driver, these roads are frequented by bandits.”

      She glanced at the men seated across from them, all dressed in tailored suits and bowler hats. Her accountants watched her cousin in mild amusement. Brilliant advisors and established family men in their late thirties and early forties, Johnson, Brown and Allen didn’t seem to share Reginald’s distress.

      “We’re nearly to Pine Ridge, Regi, and we haven’t had a single altercation.” Other than his incessant complaints. “I didn’t force you to come along,” she said, settling back against the velvet seat.

      “No, your uncle did. My grandfather clearly hates me.”

      Lily wasn’t sure her uncle Alder liked anyone.

      “I want to get in and out, Lily. Just grab your files and perhaps we can make it back to that valley inn by nightfall.”

      “It’s going to take a couple of days, Reginald.” She was counting on it. While she had a company agenda, her main interest centered on one employee.

      Her chest tightened at the thought of facing her father’s killer. She slid her hand into a pocket sewn into the thick folds of her skirt. Her fingers brushed the wooden grip and cold metal of her father’s revolver. She’d loaded the gun just as he’d taught her, leaving the first chamber empty.

      “Miss Carrington is quite right,” said Mr. Allen, removing his spectacles. He tucked the wire frames into the valise on his lap, along with his newspaper. “We have a payroll to disperse. Today will likely be spent simply organizing paperwork, and then we still have the task of tallying wages.”

      Reginald shook his head. “Utter suicide,” he murmured. “All of this could have been done at the office.”

      “Hush,” Lily said, growing annoyed with his constant pessimism. “We’ve taken the necessary safety precautions and no one knows we have the funds or has reason to suspect we’re bringing them. Surely our employees have waited long enough for their pay. Once we have the proper documentation, I’m sure they’ll be grateful for their wages and we can move on to establishing some new order.”

      Reginald glared at her over his silk hankie as he took another strong whiff of perfume.

      The carriage slowed before rocking to a stop.

      A rush of nerves and anticipation swirled through Lily. The driver’s seat creaked as he stepped down. Light spilled into the dim cab as Mr. Dobbs, her armed guard, swung the door wide. He was a rather large and brooding fellow, but the hint of a smile twitched beneath the curve of his black mustache.

      “Miss Carrington,” he said, holding his hand out to assist her onto the step. “We’ve reached the lumber mill at Pine Ridge.”

      She placed her gloved hand over his palm and emerged from the carriage into the cool mountain air. She was glad she’d dressed warmly. Her full skirt belled out, wedges of a heavy tapestry in green, blue and brown paisleys tucked into folds of dark green velvet. As her accountants followed her, Lily brushed heavy wrinkles from her green velvet waistcoat and fluffed the layered bustle crushed by hours of travel. The sound of rushing water drew her gaze to a breathtaking sight.

      She walked to the edge of the high cliff overlooking a wide stream. Clear, sparkling water rushed over rocks and giant boulders. On the other side of the river the land had been stripped bare, giving a clear view of miles of green ripples, a weaving of forest valleys and tree-topped mountains.

      “Oh, my goodness. It’s like standing on the edge of the world. And knowing I own it.”

      “Be sure they put that on our matching headstones.” Reginald stepped beside her, his frown firmly in place.

      “How can you look at such beauty with a scowl?”

      “Perhaps you should glance behind you, sweets.”

      Lily turned, glancing past the carriage, and her good spirits plummeted. What a complete and utter mess.

      Pine Ridge appeared to be no more than a maze of logs, piles of planks, and poles with cables strung in all directions. Splintered wood and shavings littered the rutted ground.

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