Page 100 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“We don’t know that there is a manuscript,” he reminded her gently.

“There is. There has to be. Maybe it has all the answers. About my mother, about their relationship. About me.”

“He couldn’t have known about you, June. We might not know what happened between Carson and your mother, but again, I have not a single shred of doubt about that.”

She released a breath, clutching the journal tightly, this tangible link to the father she hadn’t known in life.

“You knew all this time about the DNA connection between me and Alison, didn’t you? From the time you picked us up at the airport. You knew that’s why she brought me here to Wyoming.”

He said nothing, but he didn’t need to. His silence was answer enough.

“You should have told me.”

“I wanted to. I wrestled with myself about it.”

“If it was such a dilemma for you, why not tell me?”

“It wasn’t my secret. And what would I have said? You wouldn’t have believed me, anyway, would you?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “I still don’t like that you kept it from me.”

“When you first arrived here, you weren’t in a good place for that kind of shock. You were still healing and trying to adjust mentally to a major health diagnosis.”

“I’mstilltrying to adjust.”

He again wanted to hug her. So many changes in her life, one on top of the other.

“I know,” he said softly. “I expect you will be for some time. For what it’s worth, I’ve been urging Ali to tell you since you started feeling better. She wanted to, but I think she was afraid to push you away.”

She was silent, sipping at her water. He was happy to see her hands had stopped trembling, though he suspected she would be processing the news for a long time.

“Is that why you’ve been so nice to me?” she finally asked. “Because you believe I’m your friend’s daughter?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know that I have been particularly nice to you.”

“You let me watch you work. You gave me a job to do, looking through the journals. You took me for a hike.”

You kissed me.

She didn’t say the words, but they hovered between them and he felt them, with a curious ache in his chest.

“At first,” he went on, “I might have been polite to you because of your connection to Carson and Ali. But throughout the time you’ve been in Bridger Peak, I’ve also come to like you in your own right.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

“Why wouldn’t I like you, June? You are a smart, driven, passionate woman, traits I find incredibly appealing.”

She gazed at him, eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. The urge to kiss her burned through him, but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t need to complicate her life even more, after everything that had happened that day, or do something they would both regret.

She glanced away briefly. When she met his gaze again, he saw she had donned her calm composure.

“I’m still not happy about you lying to me,” she said. “Okay, maybe you didn’t lie overtly, but you certainly withheld important truths from me. You should have told me.”

“I should have. You’re right. I’m sorry. Next time I find out you’re the secret love child of my neighbor and friend, I’ll tell you straightaway.”

She made a face, though he could tell his facile response had eased the subtle tension between them.

“I’m also sorry we didn’t get very far with your manuscript quest. I can come back again tomorrow, if you want.”

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