Chapter 23

23

Tanner held Maisy's hand too tightly, but she didn't seem to mind. She just laced her fingers more securely in his and leaned her head against his shoulder.

The butler had already taken their coats as well as Ryder's and Genevieve's. Now they were all waiting in the spacious entryway room outside the parlor of Donald Hart's Boston home.

As one of the largest homes in Boston, the mansion took up at least half the block with its extensive gardens and wooded area, sitting well back from the street, behind the tall iron fences that surrounded the complex. The front gate had only been opened to them when the guard there had confirmed their names and appointment with Mr. Hart.

Tanner pressed a kiss against Maisy's head, thankful once again they were both alike in their need to be constantly together. They hadn't been apart from each other since the day they'd moved into their home in Breckenridge two weeks ago, and he hoped they would never have to spend a day or night separated.

They'd arrived in New York City by train two days ago and had stayed with Ryder and Genevieve. Tanner had already telegrammed Ryder with some of the news he'd learned but had shared the rest once they were together. Mr. Warner had been with them, having been tasked by Mr. Hart not to leave them until he delivered them to his home in Boston.

Early this morning, they'd all boarded a train bound for Boston. Now Mr. Warner was in the parlor with Mr. Hart, having asked to go ahead to prepare the dying man for the reunion.

Ryder had left his baby back in New York City with a nursemaid, and now he had his arm around Genevieve and was leaning on her as if he needed her strength every bit as much as Tanner needed Maisy's.

Tanner caught Ryder's gaze. His brother's brown eyes and brown hair were the same dark shade as his, but Ryder was broader and taller. And much quieter and more contemplative. He was attired in a dark suit—one of the tailored outfits he'd acquired since moving to New York City. In fact, Tanner hadn't seen Ryder in anything but the fancy suits since his move there. But Ryder seemed at home in them, as if he'd been born to wear them.

Maybe he had.

Tanner still couldn't grasp the concept that their father had been an English lord. Mr. Warner had filled them in on more details about their father's family. Apparently they could trace their lineage back for generations, almost all the way to William the Conqueror. Upon hearing that, Ryder had pulled out a history book from among his collection and given Tanner a lesson on the Norman conquest.

Hawthorne Bertram had been the first-born son of Lord Bertram and had been the heir apparent in line to inherit his title and estates. He'd been a prolific writer, with several published books under a pen name, and he'd loved to travel and research for his novels.

Upon Hawthorne's death, Lord Bertram's second son had become the heir presumptive and still was. Mr. Warner declared that Ryder was technically now the heir apparent of Lord Bertram as the oldest son of the oldest son, but Ryder had shaken his head in his usual gruff way and declared that he had no desire to pursue anything from their father's family.

When Mr. Warner had insinuated that Mr. Hart had been relieved to find direct heirs of his fortune, both Tanner and Ryder had indicated that they wanted nothing from the older man. They both had enough to support themselves financially—especially Ryder, since Genevieve was a wealthy heiress and spoiled him with more than he needed.

Even so, Mr. Warner had been firm that Mr. Hart had already had his will rewritten and that everything would go to the two of them after his death.

Tanner didn't care about the will and wasn't afraid to tell Mr. Warner so.

The truth was, all that mattered was finally knowing their family's history. And it was even more special that they would have the opportunity today to meet at least one of their grandfathers, their mother's father.

Maisy pulled back slightly from him so that she could peer up at him, her pretty face earnest and her blue-green eyes filled with concern. She was attired in one of Genevieve's fashionable gowns of a cream color, which made her red hair appear a richer red-brown and her skin sun-toasted. The gown was tight fitting, molding to Maisy's body and leaving very little to the imagination.

He was having a hard time keeping his hands from roving over her. He longed to skim every inch of her body and kiss every inch of her skin, but he'd had to satisfy himself all day with stolen touches and kisses, her eyes promising much more later when they were alone.

He could see that Ryder's hands were all over Genevieve too and that she seemed to melt into him every chance she had. But that wasn't anything new.

"Are you ready?" Ryder asked gravely.

For so long Tanner had dreamed about a moment like this. But now that it was here and he'd finally made peace with the past, his whole existence didn't depend on the outcome of today's meeting. Yes, he hoped to spend some time getting to know this grandfather. And yes, he planned to stay in Boston as long as he could, even through the whole winter if his grandfather lived that long and wanted him around.

Mr. Warner had confided that Mr. Hart had a bad heart, which was causing him to be weak and fatigued as well as to have shortness of breath, swelling in his limbs, and irregular heartbeats.

Tanner had discussed the situation with Maisy, and they'd both agreed that they had nothing tying them to Breckenridge and could come and go from there as they pleased. So they wouldn't be disappointed if they weren't able to make it back to the high country before the winter snow filled the mountain passes.

Even so, Tanner didn't know what to expect from Mr. Hart. If the gentleman had once cast out his only child because she'd chosen to spend her life with someone he didn't approve of, then he was likely a difficult man. Perhaps he'd changed or even softened some. That's what hardships often did to people.

Regardless, Tanner intended to make the most of the opportunity to meet this relative, get to know him, and spend as much time as possible with him. But if none of that worked out the way he hoped, he'd still walk away a happy man because, in the end, he had a woman he loved and his whole life ahead of him with her.

The parlor door opened, and the butler slipped through. Attired in a spotless dark suit with a bow tie, tailcoat, and gloves, he bowed his head politely, then waved them inside. "Mr. Hart is ready."

Ryder nodded at Tanner to enter ahead of him.

"You sure?" Tanner asked.

"You were the one who never gave up on finding family." Ryder's voice was gruff with emotion. "You should meet him first."

Tanner nodded his thanks, then with Maisy on his arm as beautiful and vivacious as always, he entered the parlor. It being the end of October, the evening light was already waning, but the room was lit with a large fire on the hearth, and each elegant globe lantern on each elegant pedestal table glowed with warmth. With walls papered in muted blues and greens, the room was impressively decorated with imported rugs and vases, richly carved dark furniture, and gilded frames and crystal candleholders.

It was everything he would have expected in a house like this.

In a comfortable-looking wing chair positioned near the fire, a gentleman sat with his feet perched on a stool and a thick blanket covering his legs. A small dog was curled on his lap, and it lifted its head as Tanner started toward them holding Maisy's hand.

The man didn't appear overly old. His hair was a light brown with hints of gray. His face was strong and purposeful. And he held himself with a confidence and pride that likely came from years of being someone wealthy and important.

His gaze, however, was much less certain as he locked in on Tanner, studying him intently, not even once glancing at Maisy.

As Tanner halted in front of the older man, he wasn't sure what to do. Should he wait for Mr. Hart to say something first? Or should he initiate a handshake? Without giving himself the chance to overthink, he offered a smile. "Grandfather?"

Immediately, tears welled in the man's eyes. He didn't even make an effort to blink them back and instead let them begin to trickle down his cheeks. He studied Tanner's face for another moment. Then he held out a hand.

Tanner didn't hesitate. He took the offer, and tears welled in his own eyes at the realization that he was connecting with his family—that in some ways, by touching his grandfather he was touching his mother and father and all that he'd once lost.

"Donald?" Grandfather's voice wobbled with emotion.

Tanner hesitated. He'd figured his family would probably want to call him by his given name, Donny. But the more he'd thought about it, the more he'd realized that he was no longer Donny. He was Tanner—a man forged by all the hardships and heartaches he'd experienced.

"I go by Tanner now. And this is my wife Maisy." He tugged her forward now too. "We're pleased to meet you."

Grandfather's tears flowed faster. And instead of shaking Tanner's hand, he drew Tanner down and wrapped his arms around him in an embrace.

Tanner hugged his grandfather back, relief loosening the tension that had been building all day. Things were going to be okay. Maybe even more than okay.

"I'm sorry," Grandfather whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry, Tanner."

Tanner pulled back.

Grandfather held him with surprising strength. "All that you went through is my fault."

"No, of course it's not—"

"Had I loved my daughter the way I should have, I wouldn't have lost her, and I wouldn't have lost you for so many years either."

The man's guilt edged each word, had probably edged his every action and word for years. Perhaps it was finally time for him to make peace with the past too. There was only one way to help the man start. "Don't worry, Grandfather. I forgive you. And I love you."

Grandfather breathed in a quick breath that almost sounded like a sob. "You don't know how much I love you too and have waited for the chance to tell you."

Tears stung Tanner's eyes, and when he stood and took hold of Maisy's hand again, she squeezed his hard. Her eyes were glassy with tears, but she was smiling up at him—a smile filled with all the love she held for him.

As he smiled back, contentment settled inside him. The story of his family had been wrought with many strange twists and turns. He hadn't known where it would lead, had never expected it would bring him here to this moment. But he couldn't have asked for anything better.

He was learning that when life's stories were uncertain and difficult, happy endings were still possible. That with enough hard work and perseverance, even the darkest and most sorrowful of stories still had the potential for beauty.

He leaned down and kissed Maisy's head, his heart full with all he'd gained. He couldn't ask for more.