wolfed down his sandwich and drink while they drove, which was a good thing. The trip to Founders Cabin was a short one. Located away from the other bunkhouses and main lodge, the cabin sat atop a small hill amid a dense thicket of trees. Not close to anything except a narrow tributary of Bear Creek.
There were two cars and one pickup truck parked outside the cabin. Natalie eased the golf cart between the vehicles and stopped beside a stone walkway leading to the front porch.
Aaron glanced over at her. The guilty expression she wore gave her away.
“Please. I don’t want to walk in there blind.” He impulsively laid a hand over the one she rested on her leg, and curled his fingers around hers. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She swallowed, and her gaze traveled to their joined hands, reminding him that he’d once again placed her in an unfair position.
He was about to retract his question when she suddenly blurted, “Jake’s called a family meeting. I don’t know why or what it’s about. He doesn’t tell me these things, and he doesn’t have to.”
“Thanks.” Aaron gave her hand a brief squeeze.
He didn’t turn around after climbing out of the golf cart, not even when Natalie started the engine and drove away. At the bottom of the porch steps, he paused to read an engraved brass monument sign. It told a short history of Walter and Ida Tucker and how they started the resort. They were an interesting and colorful couple. Aaron was sorry he never had the opportunity to meet them.
But as luck would have it, he was about to meet, and go head-to-head with, their offspring.
Chapter Four
Aaron silently fumed.
His former brother-in-law had been in an all-fired rush to start the meeting only until he arrived. From the moment he stepped over the threshold, Jake had kept everyone waiting while he made one phone call after the other.
To kill time, and avoid the rest of the family seated at the conference table, Aaron wandered the room. He paused in front of a tall bookcase crammed with leather-bound photo albums and removed one at random. Black-and-white snapshots filled every page. Beneath each snapshot someone had written dates, names, and brief descriptions in neat, square lettering. Aaron got his first look at Walter and Ida Tucker, the couple who started the ranch. They were sitting around the outdoor fireplace in front of the dining hall, surrounded by guests.
“My mother and father,” a voice from behind him said.
Aaron turned to find a handsome woman with lively eyes and an engaging smile peering over his shoulder. She was the only Tucker in the room to get within ten feet of him, much less talk to him.
“You’re Jake’s mother?” he asked, looking for a resemblance and finding only a hint of one.
“Heavens, no.” The woman’s laughter was rich and robust. “If that boy were my son, he’d have a sense of humor and good manners. Being as he’s my brother’s son, he lacks both.” She held out her hand. “I’m Millie Sweetwater.”
Aaron thought he just might learn to like Jake’s aunt. “I’m Aaron Reyes.” He balanced the photo album in the crook of his left arm so that he could shake her hand.
“I know who you are.” Her grip was firm, rivaling any man’s. Any young man’s. “Heard you finally decided to grace us with your presence about an hour after you drove onto the property. Got here right under the wire. Another few days and you’d’ve missed out on all this fun.”
“Being a member of the Tucker Family Trust is fun?”
She winked. “From where I sit, it’s a hoot.”
No doubt about it. He definitely liked Millie.
Liked her even more when he caught Jake glowering at them from the head of a large oak conference table, his cell phone glued to his ear. To his left sat two women who conversed in whispers, probably about him. Jake’s cousins, Aaron presumed, which would make them Millie’s daughters. On the other side of Jake sat his personal assistant, Alice. She didn’t converse with anyone.
“There’s Hailey.” Millie tapped a finger on one of the snapshots. “That girl always did love horses. It must have been very hard on you when she died.”
There was a sadness in Millie’s voice that affected Aaron more than her words. It was quickly overshadowed by an anger he’d had no outlet for until now.
“Why the sudden sympathy? You Tuckers barely acknowledged me when Hailey had her accident, much less offered your support.”
Millie didn’t so much as blink. If anything, she appeared more sorrowful. “Our behavior was appalling. Inexcusable. I, for one, am sorry. But your behavior wasn’t all that commendable either,” she gently reprimanded. “You should have come to the memorial service.”
“Your family didn’t want me here.”
“We’d have tolerated you.”
As they were now? “Is that why you’re being nice to me today? To clear your conscience?” Guilt gave Aaron’s voice an edge. He should have stood up to Jake and come to Hailey’s memorial service instead of hiding behind a wall of grief.
“I deserved that, which is why I won’t let your anger ruin our friendship.” The twinkle in Millie’s eyes reappeared.
Aaron found it hard to stay mad. “You think we’re going to be friends?”
“Good ones.” She glanced at Jake before patting Aaron’s arm. “Would you like to see more pictures of Hailey growing up? There are lots of them. We have albums for every year the resort’s been in operation. Ma insisted on it.”
“Sure.” He grinned. Whatever reason Millie had for being nice to him—and she had one, she was too wily not to—Aaron didn’t care as long as it irritated Jake.
She flipped to a new page in the album and said, “There’s all the cousins.” The six Tucker grandchildren sat grouped together on the floor in front of a huge, elaborately decorated Christmas tree. “Jake’s not only the oldest grandchild, he’s the only boy.” Millie chuckled. “And then the poor man goes and has three daughters. It’s not entirely his fault he turned out to be such a stick-in-the-mud. Natalie’s no relation but they’ve known each other their whole lives, and he’s as overprotective with her as the rest of the women in his life.”
Aaron changed the subject. For some reason he wasn’t inclined to talk about Natalie with any of the Tuckers, even the one being nice to him.
“You have four daughters?” He studied Hailey’s young face. She’d had the same exuberance about her as a child as she’d had as an adult.
“Oh, yes. Carolina and Rachel over there are my two middle ones. Don’t be put off. They’re not nearly as mean as they appear,” Millie teased. “My oldest is married and lives in Colorado.”
“You must miss her.” Aaron’s own mother complained frequently of his long absences.
“Yes, but the benefit of the family trust is that she’s
