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Chapter 22

Dahlia

“Those boys sure have been out there a while, haven’t they?” Mrs. Marooney asks.

I laugh. “They have.”

“You should have seen the rescue, Dahlia. That Sawyer carried me out while Weston and Garrison punched their way through the security guards. It was quite a show.”

“I can imagine.” My smile fades, and I take her wrinkled hand in mine. “I’m so sorry you got pulled into this. I don’t know what happened, but it never should have reached you.”

Mrs. Marooney arches a brow. “Honey, I don’t know what you think happened, but I assure you, I wasn’t pulled into anything. If anything, you were.”

The door opens, and all five men come in, each of them looking a bit more serious than they did after stepping out. Ryker’s expression is dark, his shoulders rigid. What happened out there?

“Ahh, perfect timing. We were just about to dive into things.” Mrs. Marooney pulls her hands back and sits. “As I told you all, Phillip and I were good friends. Even before we both ended up at Pine Meadow. Actually, I’m the reason he found the place at all.”

“You told him about it?”

She nods. “We were friends long before. My husband played golf with him, and I was good friends with his wife at the time. While I never had children, I did get the opportunity to know his son quite well.”

“He has a son?”

“Had. Phillip and his son were estranged, and he discovered that he’d passed in a car accident a few years ago.”

“Oh, that’s so sad.”

“It was,” Mrs. Marooney tells me. “Anyway, I got a divorce when my husband decided to trade me in for a younger model⁠—”

“What a fool,” Sawyer says with a grin.

“That’s what I said, too.” Mrs. Marooney laughs. “After the divorce, I took to traveling, and Phillip and I just sort of drifted. Then, when I got back, I checked myself into Pine Meadow. Where I met you.” She smiles at me. “I knew the instant I saw you. It’s not hard to tell, you see. You have a very distinctive look.”

Brows drawn together, I stare at her. “Knew what?”

Mrs. Marooney stares at me expectantly. “My dear girl, you never once noticed?”

“Noticed what?” I look around at Ryker and the others, who are clearly trying to put the pieces together themselves.

“It’s all in the eyes, you see.” She smiles. “You are Phillip Prescott’s granddaughter.”

I stare at her, sure that I heard her wrong. “No. No, I’m not. My grandfather was Ben Holland.”

“Your maternal grandfather, yes. But your father’s father was Phillip Prescott.”

“I don’t. No. That’s not possible. My dad’s last name was Swanson.” I push up from the table, my head swimming.

“I assure you, dear girl. You absolutely are. Scott went by a different name after he and Phillip had a falling out. The DNA test⁠—”

I whirl on her. “What DNA test?”

“Phillip wanted to be sure, so he had me collect a coffee cup you’d been drinking out of. When he got the results back, he checked into Pine Meadow to get close to you. He wanted to get to know you because you were the last link to his son.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t he say anything?”

“He didn’t want to replace your memories of your grandfather. He knew how much you loved him.”

“Did my grandfather—my other grandfather—know?”