next week’s matchup against the Rams.
“This afternoon I tracked down someone who recognized him from the Pike Place Fish Market. Said he was a monger for a while.”
“What’s a monger?”
“A fish tosser. Apparently he had great reflexes. The monger who remembered Owen said that he thought he hooked up with some guys headed out on a fishing boat. But that was eight months ago.”
“You’ll find him, Casper. If anyone can, it’s you.”
He’d like to believe that, but lately he’d been thinking that his luck might have run dry after landing the treasure-hunting find of his life earlier this year —the fortune of a steel baron, lost in the north woods of Minnesota. The finders’ fee had given him enough to prop up the family resort, infuse it with new life, make his engagement to Raina official with a ring, and maybe someday buy a house . . . if he could locate Owen and garner his blessing.
Or maybe his forgiveness. Because even more than moving forward with Raina, Casper wanted to set the past right. It haunted him —their fight, the way he’d tackled his brother, slammed his fist into his face, and in that moment, hated him.
Hated. That’s what burned in him the most. He couldn’t shake the regret, the awareness that he’d wanted to hurt Owen, really hurt him.
The fury that had taken over scared him. That day Casper had just wanted to make Owen pay for what he did to Raina. And to him. Because they’d never escape the specter of Owen in their life. Not with Layla there to remind them. As much as Casper loved Layla, he feared he’d never look in her eyes and truly see his reflection. What if Owen would always be staring —smirking —back?
Still, Casper couldn’t live with the gash he’d cut in the family. In his own heart.
He longed to forgive. And be forgiven. But he couldn’t deny how his hope of that waned with each empty lead.
“I can’t think of anywhere else to look. But I can’t . . .” He picked up a curly fry, tossed it through the ketchup. “I can’t come home yet, either.”
The fry was cold, turning sour in his mouth. He washed it down with the milk, then pushed the plate away, glancing up at the news. Weather, then sports. Oh, joy, more Seahawks.
“Amelia left for Africa today,” Raina said. “The whole tribe went to the airport. I know they missed you.”
“I missed them. How’s her ankle?” He still couldn’t believe the story Raina had told him about his kid sister nearly dying of injuries and exposure in the north woods of Minnesota.
“She’s good. Limping a little, but healed up. I think she’s going to love Africa.”
“And you —how are you?”
“I’m missing you. Your mom and Grace have been watching Layla during my shifts at the antique shop, but I think I need to find day care and increase my hours. I can’t keep living on the dole.”
He knew she meant it as funny, but he didn’t laugh. “If we were married, it would be our money, not mine. You could stay at home and take care of Layla —”
“I doubt that, Casper. I’ve never been the kind of girl to just sit around. I’d probably work at the resort, helping out. Maybe clean cabins.”
“Don’t you dare mention that to Darek. He’ll take you up on it.”
She laughed. “I am glad to help out, Casper. It . . . Well, it’s my family resort too, in a way.”
“In every way.” Oh, he could barely take it, the need to reach through the phone, weave his hands into her silky hair, pull her into his arms. “That’s it. I’m coming home.”
“Casper —”
“No, I’m serious, Raina. Forget Owen. He clearly forgot us. He’s wiped his feet, shaken off the dirt, and left us behind. I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. And it’s not like his blessing has any bearing on our future. I’d marry you if I had to knock him over to get down the aisle. He doesn’t have a shadow of a hope of getting back
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