“A good many during the summer and fall. Not as many in the winter. But I think winter is the prettiest time for any waterfall.”
“We’ll have to come back in the winter, then.”
They stayed at the base of the falls for an hour. Mo pulled their travel Chinese checkers from the backpack he carried, and before long, they each won a game. They tried to find a way to climb to the top of the waterfall but gave up when Mo slipped on a rock and slid ten feet before catching himself.
Getting hurt was a one-way ticket to getting caught. And neither of them wanted that.
The trip back took longer than the trip there, with neither of them in a hurry to say goodbye. At some point, Mo took her hand, and they walked with their fingers entwined.
“Do you think our families will ever get along?” Bronwyn leaned her head on Mo’s shoulder and felt him shrug.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters!”
He stopped and looked at her. “Why? I’m not, um, I mean, they aren’t the ones I ...” Mo dropped her hand and took a step away from her. “I don’t care if they get along. I just care if you and I get along.”
Bronwyn felt heat flooding through her skin. “We’re forever. That isn’t the issue.”
“Then why does it matter what our families think of each other?”
“Don’t you think it would be easier if we didn’t have to hide?”
Mo turned back to the path, and she jogged a couple of steps to stay with him. It was a full minute before he said, “It’s okay now, but, eventually, we won’t hide. We won’t let them do that to us.”
Bronwyn wanted to believe him, but she’d known him too long.
She heard the doubt.
Her family was a problem. They would always be a problem.
Eleven
Present Day
Bronwyn hadn’t expected to be escorted into her office by four large and, it was finally dawning on her, very angry men. When they walked over to her office, she’d been surprised to find Gray and Donovan leaning against Gray’s Explorer, which was parked in her space.
They’d smiled and laughed and put on a good show for anyone watching. They claimed that Gray was dropping off Donovan because the newlywed wanted to spend the evening close to Cassie. They pretended to be interested in what Bronwyn wanted to do with her office, and since Cassie was in the middle of the dinner rush, Donovan wasn’t in a hurry. They’d just come along to see.
The story worked because it wasn’t unusual for Gray to drop Donovan off at The Haven. But that wasn’t why either of them were here tonight.
Bronwyn had always been sensitive to the emotions of others, and even though she couldn’t explain how she knew, she was certain that none of the anger she was picking up on was directed at her.
No. These men, Mo included, were angry on her behalf.
But they kept up the lighthearted charade as they filed into her office and even after they were inside. Donovan and Cal chatted about her desk while Mo and Gray walked around the perimeter of the room in a way that might have passed for casual and relaxed if someone had managed to plant surveillance cameras and was watching a live feed.
“Cal,” Mo said in a relaxed voice that set every one of Bronwyn’s nerves on edge, “have you ever made a desk before?”
“No, but I don’t think it would be too difficult.”
“I’ll tell you one thing I’d be sure of.” He pushed her chair away from the desk and knelt in the space behind it. “I’d make the leg space bigger than the standard.”
“Bronwyn’s not a giant, Mo. She doesn’t need extra legroom.” Cal’s voice held a hint of amusement that Bronwyn might have believed had she not been looking at his face.
“Everyone needs extra legroom. And Bronwyn likes to sit cross-legged in her chair. She needs a desk that can accommodate that.” To emphasize his point, Mo sat in her chair, then pulled his legs into the position that, in fact, she did enjoy sitting in. “Look. There’s not enough room for her knees.”
Cal groaned. “Mo, the desk is for Beep. Not you. She can decide what she wants or doesn’t want.”
