A Matter of Trust(98)
“Oh, honey, I’m so relieved.”
“Mom?” Ella didn’t have time—or presence of mind—to school her disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“As soon as Brette called us and told us what was happening, we caught a flight. We had to drive up from Missoula—last night’s winds wouldn’t let us in—but we’re here now, and . . . oh, honey. What a terrible ordeal.”
Marjorie Blair had never lost her senatorial grace, despite her cancer. Dressed in a pantsuit, her honey blonde hair cut short in a bob, her makeup impeccable, the woman looked ready for a press conference.
“You look nice. Heading up a board meeting down the hall?”
Marjorie sat on the side of her bed. “Yes, well, I did want to talk to you about something.” She took her hand. “But not now. I’m just so thankful you made it off that mountain.”
“Me and Oliver. Mom, he told me you knew what he was doing.”
“Yes, we knew. He talked with us six months ago and told us his plans. Showed us the video of him skiing, as well as one of someone who’d skied it years ago. We finally agreed that if this was his passion, we were behind him—”
“He could have gotten killed. Did you not think of Dylan?”
Her mother’s mouth tightened. “Yes. Of course we did. But he’s an adult, and I can’t wrap him in cotton. He has to live his own life, make his own choices. It was time for us to let him.”
She stared at her mother. “If Gage and I hadn’t gone after him, he would still be up on that mountain.”
“Gage?”
“Watson—yes, the guy who was with Dylan. But before you say anything, he saved Oliver’s life. And mine. He rode into an avalanche to save me. I would have been buried alive if it weren’t for him.”
Her mother took in a long breath as if weighing her words, her opinion of Gage. Her diplomacy apparently won. “Well, we’re very proud of you going after your brother the way you did. You remind me a lot of your mother, you know.”
Ella just stared at her. “What?”
“Your mother had such determination. Even when she was dying, she hung on until she made sure you and Oliver were going to be taken care of by Mansfield and me. After all you two had gone through, she didn’t want you to be alone.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Marjorie touched her hand. “You know, if you stop trying so hard to take care of everybody, you might find that there are others already looking out for you.”
She met Marjorie’s gaze. Such warmth in it, the kind of compassion she’d always seen but never let herself embrace.
Thinking, of course, she had to earn it.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said softly.
Marjorie leaned forward, pulled Ella into her arms. “I know you’re not mine by birth, but your mother gave you to me to love as my own. And I do, precious daughter.”
Ella closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink against her mother. “I love you too.”
A beat passed, and then Marjorie held her away. “Good. Because I need to ask you if I can have my senate seat back.”
Ella raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I know you took it on because I asked you to. But I’ve seen the strain, the frustration, and . . . do you still want to be senator?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s not an ‘I don’t know’ job. And if you’re not all in—”
“No. I don’t want it. I guess I don’t know what I want.”
“Really?” Her mother regarded her with a smile. “Because now I’m doing the math, and I think I know who that man is who kept asking to see you. Your father sent him away. But he’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”
“What?”
“Sorry, honey. We thought he might be one of Oliver’s wild friends. That long hair . . .”
“That beautiful, amazing long hair. Mom, that’s Gage Watson.”
Her mother’s mouth opened, closed. She drew in a breath.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?”
Her mother drew back, eased up from the bed. “Now I think I understand what had your father in such a kerfuffle.” She got up, paced the room.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, he was talking with the young woman who brought you and your brother in, and suddenly, I saw his face change—you know how he gets when he’s angry. A little like your brother, I might add. Stubborn.”
“Mom—”
“The local press has gotten ahold of this, and he went down to talk to them. I have a bad feeling he might add in an opinion on the reputation of your rescuer.”