I need a drink.”
Erik muttered the remark more to himself than to Rosie. But she heard it and it rankled. The guy had so much going for himself, not the least of which was a caring family. Why did he insist on throwing it all away?
They walked through the cold dark toward her car. A row of solar lights softly lit the flagstone path across the front yard. Stars shone, the sky dense with them. Thick quiet enveloped the place like a silky blanket.
Rosie could not reconcile the peace with Erik’s crummy preoccupation with himself. “Beaumont, give me a break. You’ve got so much to be grateful for. Granted, I have not walked in your moccasins. And it’s true, looks and money don’t equal fulfillment. But you have a family who dropped everything they were doing because you needed help. Your brother and sister last night. The others today probably thought you were coming up to be with them for your own sake. Now they embrace this hapless stranger.”
“Not totally. My grandfather will never do so. Lexi and I have doubts. Dad’s uncharacteristically quiet. He’s not sold, I can tell.”
“I’m talking generalities. You’re all at least willing to give her the time of day and her story a chance. Except maybe your grandfather.” The old man never had reappeared.
She and Erik went down the few railroad-tie steps to the parking area and walked across the gravel. She could almost feel Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected bristle beside her.
Oh, well. That was his problem. It was time for her to exit the scene.
She’d declined Claire’s kind invitation to stay for dinner. Tuyen was in good hands. Indio and Claire just assumed the stranger would stay with them. Rosie saw the beautiful guest room where she would live for the time being. Danny had already carried Tuyen’s lone gym bag into it.
Rosie stopped near her SUV and turned to Erik. “The point is they are rallying around you and now around Tuyen.”
“Officer, who asked you?”
The guy was such a loser. “You invited me, remember? My opinion comes with the territory.”
“You don’t know diddly-squat about my family or about my life.”
“I know they care, and I know that the perfect family does not exist. We all have to deal with whatever hand we’re dealt.”
He jingled a set of keys before her. “I am dealing with it.” He spun on his heel and strode toward one of the other cars in the lot.
Visions flashed through Rosie’s mind. She could see him sitting on a barstool in nearby Santa Reina and then swerving along the narrow two-lane back to the hacienda.
“Erik!” She snapped his name.
He paused, his hand on the open car door, and looked back at her.
“Promise me something.” Aw, nuts. Was she really saying this? Was she really swinging open the door to her Adopt the Hopeless Club? How grossly unprofessional! She was an idiot.
But she couldn’t help it.
She said, “Promise me you will buy your alcohol in town and bring it back here to drink.”
Without a word, he got into the car, started it, and peeled out of the lot, gravel spewing from the tires.
Dear Lord, please keep him safe!
Lost in thought, Rosie drove more cautiously than Erik had. The long road down to the highway was dirt and gravel. It wound through the dark hills, lit only by stars and her headlights.
At a bend in the road she saw a figure standing near a turnoff and assumed it was Ben Beaumont. She remembered Erik pointing out the spot on their way up. His grandparents lived in an RV on the site, next to their future home.
Lowering her window, Rosie drew up alongside the tall elderly man and braked. “Mr. Beaumont.”
“Officer.” He wore a heavy jacket. His hands were stuffed into its pockets. Shadows played across his face.
“Are you going to be all right, sir?”
“Depends what you mean by all right.”
“‘All right’ as in you’re not going to do something you’ll regret? Something that will require the sheriff to pay a visit here?”
“No.”
“Glad to hear that. Sir, I really am sorry for the loss of your son. I cannot imagine the hell you’ve lived through all these years or the shock that just hit you today.”
He mumbled something indecipherable.
“Anyway, I hope things turn out for you all.”
“I wish the kids hadn’t brought her here.”
“They had little choice.”
“It’s a cock-and-bull story. I can’t believe they fell for it. ’Course, they never knew BJ. He was long gone before they were even born.” He shook his head. “I tell you, BJ would have gotten out of there if he had to crawl on his belly the whole entire way.”
Rosie had no words to empathize with the depth of his pain.
“He was nothing like Erik. That kid is a basket case. BJ was the star student, star athlete, star navy pilot. He had character, you know? Integrity. They just don’t make ’em like that anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” She paused. “What will you do about Tuyen?”
“Stay out of her way. Max and Claire can track down her information if they want. Indio can fawn all over her however much she wants. But nothing’s going to change my mind.”
“Not even the facts?”
“There’s only one fact that matters, and her name is Beth Russell. BJ’s fiancée. He never would have done this to her. Never. Not in a million years.”
Rosie watched the old man shuffle away, his shoulders hunched. Her heart ached for him and for all the Beaumonts and for Tuyen and now for someone named Beth Russell.
“Lord, don’t You think this prayer list is getting a little long?”