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know what?” River asked.

      “Didn’t know my sister had lost her husband and that she’d been struggling...”

      “Financially?” River prodded when he’d trailed off.

      Emotion choked Mac, and he could only shake his head. Even now he couldn’t talk about it—couldn’t think about it without the guilt overwhelming him.

      Was that why River couldn’t talk about whatever had happened to him? Did he feel some form of guilt, as well—for surviving when others hadn’t?

      Mac was glad the ranch was close, because he pulled into the driveway behind Edith’s car and cut the engine and the conversation.

      But River wasn’t fooled. “Guess I’m not the only one who has things he’d rather not talk about.”

      Mac sighed. “I can’t change the past,” he said. “So there’s no point in discussing it.”

      “Exactly,” River agreed.

      But Mac wasn’t as convinced that was true for River. Maybe he needed to talk about it, to work through it and get beyond it. Before he could suggest that, River opened the passenger door and slipped out. He didn’t stop, either—he headed straight for the barn. Hopefully he didn’t intend to take that damn horse out for another ride.

      “Hey,” he called after him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”

      River didn’t even turn back—just shook his head and continued to walk away.

      “Where’s he going?” Edith asked as she stared after his broad back. “I thought he was staying with you.”

      “He’s staying in the apartment in the barn,” Mac said. “I tried to get him to stay in the house...”

      “Why wouldn’t he?”

      Mac shrugged. “He said he might disturb me.”

      “How?” she asked.

      Mac glanced down at his niece’s face, her dark gaze locked yet on River. She seemed awfully fascinated with the ex-Marine. While Mac loved River like a son, he wasn’t sure the man would be good for anyone right now. He’d been through so much and probably had more than physical wounds.

      “I think it’s the nightmares.” Even with River in the barn, he heard him sometimes—heard the shouting. It sounded like he was trying to warn someone.

      Edith shivered.

      “Let’s get inside,” he said.

      She turned toward him now and shook her head. “I really can’t stay. I have that room in town—”

      “It would make more sense for you to stay here,” he said. “So you’ll be close to the estate, if you really intend to go back there.”

      “I have to,” she said. But she didn’t sound particularly eager to return.

      Mac couldn’t blame her. He hated that house, most of all he hated the memories it held for him. But like he’d told River, he couldn’t change the past, so there was no sense in dwelling on it. He slid his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the front porch.

      Before they reached the stairs, though, she pulled away from him. A pang struck his heart. Would she ever forgive him for not being there for her when she’d needed him? She’d claimed, when they’d reconnected a half a dozen years ago, that she harbored no resentment—that she understood. But was that how she really felt?

      Then he understood why she’d pulled away when she reached inside her purse and pulled out a vibrating cell phone. At least he hoped that was the reason.

      “I have to take this,” she said, but yet she hesitated.

      And he realized why—she didn’t want him to overhear her call. Was it from a boyfriend?

      Or her mysterious employer?

      Mac swallowed a sigh of disappointment that he wouldn’t find out—because he had to respect her privacy. But he was worried that the secrets Edith was keeping might put her in danger, especially if she insisted on going back to La Bonne Vie alone.

      * * *

      Edith waited until the front door closed behind her uncle before she called Declan back. He had only let the phone ring a few times before hanging up moments ago. That was the way he was—too busy to waste his time.

      He’d even been like that when they were kids.

      Of course he wouldn’t want to talk to her if she was with someone, either. He was fanatical about maintaining his privacy—especially in Shadow Creek. He’d come to town once when she’d been visiting her uncle, but he’d declined meeting Mac. She suspected, though, that Mac wasn’t whom he hadn’t wanted to meet.

      He answered on the first ring. “Hey, you alone now?”

      “Yes...” But as she said it, she glanced around—making certain. She didn’t feel alone; she hadn’t since she’d stepped through the front door of La Bonne Vie.

      “Good.”

      He was obviously alone, as well. She felt a pang of regret over that; her boss was usually alone. But he always claimed that was the way he wanted it. It must have been, because, with his good looks and money, he could have any woman he wanted. But like her, he was too busy for relationships and too smart to want one.

      “When do you plan to go to the estate in the morning?” he asked.

      “I already checked out the place tonight,” Edith said.

      “Of course you have,” he murmured with satisfaction. “What’s the situation?”

      “The power has been turned on,” Edith said. “But I almost wish it hadn’t been.”

      “Why’s that?” he asked.

      “Because I can see how much work I have to do,” she said. “The place is a mess, Declan. It’s going to take major work if you want it to be inhabitable.”

      “All it takes to be inhabitable is power and running water,” he said.

      “You haven’t seen this place,” Edith said. He’d bought it sight unseen. And she couldn’t imagine why.

      Something sounding almost like a growl rattled the phone. “I will soon,” he said, his voice gruff with frustration. “I’m going to clear my schedule...”

      Which meant she would have to clear his schedule—in addition to all her other responsibilities as his executive assistant.

      “...and visit in a few weeks,” he continued. “You’ll need to have a room ready for me then.”

      “At the local B and B?” He hadn’t stayed in town last time he’d visited her. And of course he’d refused to stay with her at Mac’s. Instead he’d made the six-hour drive between Shadow Creek and Lake Charles, Louisiana, twice in one day.

      He chuckled and replied, “At La Bonne Vie, of course.”

      She shuddered at the thought of anyone staying there. Of course, she’d already told her uncle and River that she intended to. It made sense for her, though—since she had so much work to do there.

      “You should have a room there, as well,” he told her, “if there’s as much to do as you say...”

      She sighed. “I didn’t have the chance to do much of an assessment yet. I could barely walk through the place.”

      “Sounds like inventory might take you a while.”

      He’d bought the estate with all its furnishings. Edith knew how much he’d bid for it, which she’d thought was high even before she had seen the place. But Declan hadn’t built his business into the success that it was by paying too much for real estate.

      “I’ll

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