River’s End

in to you, and go to hell for anyone else. I’m just working out some fall programs.” She angled her head as she swiveled her chair around. “What’s in the box?”
    “Don’t know. It came to the lodge, looks like an overnight from Los Angeles, to you.”
    “Me?”
    “I’d guess it’s from the same young man who sent you the flowers.” He set the package on the desk. “And I say he has fine taste in women.”
    “Which you say with complete objectivity.”
    “Of course.” Rob sat on the corner of the desk, reached for her hands. “How’s my girl?”
    “I’m fine.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about me, Grandpop.”
    “I’m allowed to worry. It’s part of the job description.” And she’d been so tense, so pale when she’d come back from California. “It doesn’t matter that he’s out, Livvy. I’ve made my peace with that. I hope you will.”
    “I’m working on it.” She rose, moved away to tidy files that didn’t need tidying. “
    Noah just called. He wanted to let me know he’d seen him, spoken to him.”
    “It’s best you know.”
    “Yes, it is. I appreciate that he understands that, respects that. That he doesn’t treat me as if I were so fragile I’d break, that I needed to be protected from . . .” She trailed off, felt a wave of heat wash into her face. “I didn’t mean—”
    “It’s all right. I don’t know if we did the right thing, Livvy, bringing you here, closing everything else out. We meant it for the best.”
    “Bringing me here was exactly the right thing.” She dropped the files and stepped over to hug him tight. “No one could have given me more love or a better home than you and Grandma. We won’t let thoughts of him come in here and make us question it.” Her eyes stormed with emotion when she drew back. “We won’t.”
    “I still want what’s best for you. I’m just not as sure as I once was what it is. This young man . ..” He nodded toward the flowers. “He’s bringing you an awful lot to face at one time. But he’s got a straight look in his eye, makes me want to trust him with you.”
    “Grandpop.” She bent, kissed his cheek. “I’m old enough, and smart enough, to decide that for myself.”
    “You’re still my baby. Aren’t you going to open the package?”
    “No, it’ll only encourage him.” She grinned. “He’s trying to charm me.”
    “Is he?”
    “I suppose he is, a little. He’s planning on coming back soon. I’ll decide just how charmed I am when I see him again. Now, go to work, and let me do the same.”
    “He comes back around, I’m keeping an eye on him.” Rob winked as he got up and headed for the door. Then he stopped, one hand on the knob, and glanced back. “
    Did we keep you too close, Livvy? Hold you too tight?” He shook his head before she could answer. “Yes or no, you grew your own way. Your mother’d be proud of you.”
    When the door closed behind him, she sat down, struggled with the tears that were a hot mix of grief and joy. She hoped he was right, that her mother would be proud, and not see her daughter as a woman who was too aloof, too hard, too afraid to open herself to anyone but the family who’d always been there. Would Julie, bright, beautiful Julie, ask her daughter, Where are your friends? Where are the boys you pined for, the men you loved? Where are the people you’ve touched or made part of your life?
    What would the answer be? Olivia wondered. There’s no one. No one. It made her so suddenly, so unbearably sad the tears threatened again. Blinking them away, she stared at the package on her desk.
    Noah, she thought. He was trying to reach her. Wasn’t it time she let him?
    She dug out the Leatherman knife from her pocket, used the slim blade to break the sealing tape. Then she paused, let herself feel the anticipation, the pleasure. Let herself think of him as she lifted the lid.
    Hurrying now, she probed through the protective blizzard of Styrofoam chips, spilling them out onto the desk as she worked the contents out. Glass or china, she thought, some sort of figurine. She wondered if he’d actually tracked down a statue of a marmot, was already laughing at the idea when she freed the figure. The laugh died in her throat, tumbled with the avalanche of icy panic that roared through her chest. Her own rapid breathing became a crashing scream in her head. She dropped the figurine as if it were a live snake, poised to strike. And stared,