“To you, but to me it was yesterday. All your life, you never failed to impress me.” She smiled as they walked the property for an after-dinner tour of the renovations he’d made since she’d been here for his campaign launch and victory celebration. “I confess, after so many months of silence, I’m surprised to find you doing so well.”
Scent of chlorine hitting him as they navigated around the updated pool, Stone thought that through for a few seconds. “I am.” He ran a hand over his beard as he peered out at the mountains basking in the glow of a summer moon. “Honestly didn’t think I could come back from …” He drew in the reins on that swell of memories.
“From what happened,” she supplied gently.
“From what I did.” But he did not want to go there. “Being here, owning and renovating the lodge”—he motioned inside to where a family sat by the hearth, playing a board game—“has given me purpose, a reason to get up each day, to … live.”
Concern twisted her brow. “Was it really that bad?” Blue eyes searched his. “So bad that you didn’t want to live?” She touched his arm, slowing their progress. “I guess that’s a dumb question, considering you wouldn’t come see or talk to me. We’d been close before.”
He’d ruined a lot with one stupid decision. Not ready for the heavy dialogue, he focused on what he could stomach. “The lodge has been a godsend.”
Mom eyed the sun setting behind the mountain. “I can see why you like it here. It’s so peaceful.”
“I appreciate its solitude and going by Jackson Mulroney also affords me the anonymity I didn’t know I’d wanted.” He shrugged. “There’s no pressure here, except to be the manager for the lodge.”
Her gaze strayed to him, but then she looked down, and he could feel her disappointment again, the lingering questions he’d deftly avoided for the last year. No matter where he turned, this nightmare wasn’t releasing him from its razor-sharp talons.
Might as well get it out of the way. “Go ahead. Ask.”
She eyed him, those blues so familiar??—he and four of his six siblings inherited them. “I’d hoped you would tell me, so I wouldn’t have to ask.” But then she sighed with a small smile. “What happened, Stone?”
“I screwed up. Made a bad decision and it ruined everything,” he said with a shrug.
Her face softened. “It’s hard for me to believe??—”
He sniffed.
“—because you were always the straight shooter.”
“Was being the operative word.” He rubbed his knuckles.
“But that’s what I don’t get,” she said, her voice pitching with concern. “This isn’t you—you’re the businessman, the loyalist, the planner crossing every jot and tittle. I could believe something like this of Canyon, maybe Leif, but you?” She gave an airy laugh. “Never.”
He wasn’t the same man anymore. Wasn’t the perfect soldier, sheriff, governor, or … son. “Well, it was me, my fault.” He met her gaze. “Best you accept that or living here will get miserable real fast.” He regretted his tone, but not the truth of his words.
“There’s a lot of anger in your words.”
He hated it—that her perfect little son had fallen off his pedestal. Hated what he’d done to himself, to others. “What do you want me to say, Mom?” He felt the creeping edge of that anger rising around his collar. “I lost my way. Got high on power. Threw it away—all of it. And with an escort!” His chest tightened, the torrent desperate to overtake him. “Sorry for tarnishing Dad’s name. For shaming you. Sorry!”
“Shaming me?” She tsk’ed, looking aghast. “Every one of us makes mistakes we’d rather bury.”
The words struck a mark, vaulted him back to his teen years. To Dad’s conversation he’d overheard. The one that rocked his world. Just like he was doing to hers as well. Apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree, did it? “Yeah, but not all of us end up on the six o’clock news across the country.” Running a hand down the back of his neck, he could still hear those reports running 24/7.
“And tonight in the latest on the scandal that has rocked Maryland’s gubernatorial mansion, Stone Metcalfe has resigned. In a statement delivered with his resignation, Governor Metcalfe said?—and I quote??—‘I took this office on a ticket promising to defend our laws and its people, but I have broken both promises. My actions were reprehensible and indefensible. I appreciate the trust placed in me and apologize that I have let you down. I am confident Allen Kovacs will continue the work we campaigned on and started during my time in office.’” The reporter turned to her colleague. “I’m shocked, Rick. This is the last thing I expected from Stone Metcalfe.”
Mom touched his hand with her small, leathery one. “I couldn’t care less what people think or what they think they know.” Still holding his hand, she eased onto a nearby chair at one of the outdoor dining tables. “Can you tell me why? What happened that you would walk away from everything that has so resolutely defined you, your character, and your actions for your entire life? That is what confounds me.” Her silver brows furrowed over pale irises. “Never would I believe you’d lose your bearings over a woman!”
“You mean an escort.” He didn’t want her to have any illusions, any way to exonerate him. He didn’t deserve it. He dropped into a chair across from her and leaned forward, sloughing his palms.
“Even with Marie,” Mom went on, “you were absolutely insistent upon treating her right, getting married, having a family—all in that order. You said it was the honorable route.”
Marie was a different story. That was high school. He was cocky, a Metcalfe, and hadn’t yet discovered Dad’s secret. How else could he explain this without bringing all that up?
“So you can see why it’s so difficult to believe you and … an escort?!”
“She wasn’t … that to me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t even know she was one.” He thought of her brown eyes, lilting laugh … “In my position, there was no way I could date without intense media scrutiny, so I gave up on the idea. Then the dinner parties started and there were … ladies. I was appalled, of course. Disgusted. Told them I wouldn’t show up if they continued that. They swore it wouldn’t happen again, and I focused on my causes and agenda. Ya know, working the crowd, garnering financial backing and political support. That’s how I met her.”
. . . . .
