Page 81 of Forgiving Her First Love

There was a round of pop-hisses as they opened their cans, then Trystan caught them up on what he’d learned. “I’m confident they’ll pay market value,” Trystan wrapped up, speaking to Reid. “I know you were hoping we’d be turning a profit by end of season, and that competing bids would drive up the price once we put it up for sale.”

“I was, but there’s no other option now. We have to sell to them. It’s the right thing to do,” Reid said matter-of-factly.

“I agree.” Logan nodded. “Let’s set up a meeting with the council to tell them we agree in principle. Do you want one of us to make that call?”

“I can do it,” Trystan said.

They all sat in silence for a minute, absorbing this sudden new direction.

It made sense that the Heiltsuk Nation take over the resort, which was smack-dab in the middle of their traditional territory, and provide opportunities for their own people to run it. Sophie would happily provide any support they needed through the transition. This development also relieved her of any sense of disloyalty toward Wilf and the marina, but did it also spell freedom for Logan sooner than either of them would have expected?

A bubble of pressure began to form inside her, one filled with expectations she wasn’t sure she could meet. He had promised to wait for her, but she was still really, really fearful of trusting him.

The silence had Storm picking up her head with curiosity. She held out one arm toward Trystan.

“Tst.”

“Show him what you can do.” Reid sat her on the floor.

Instead of crawling to Trystan, she grinned at Logan and clambered against his leg, clumsily trying to crawl up him until he gathered her to stand on his thigh. His big hands caged her stiff body, supporting her as she practiced her wobbly balance.

“Where would we go?” Emma asked Reid with a worried look.

“This does shake things up, doesn’t it? We have to stay in BC until…” He nodded at Storm. The gesture encompassed the finalizing of Emma’s residency so she could adopt Storm with him. “Then… I don’t know.”

“Do you have any sense of timing?” Logan asked Trystan.

“It’s the government. Took twenty years for them to get this far,” Trystan said with a twist of his lips. “Two hundred and twenty, if we’re being honest.”

No kidding. Sophie experienced a pang of white guilt and hurt on Trystan’s behalf. He had never talked much about how the residential school system had affected him and his mother’s family, but she knew his grandmother had been taken in the Sixties Scoop. As a mother herself, Sophie couldn’t fathom having her child snatched from her home or what it would do to Biyen to be wrenched from all he knew.

The Truth and Reconciliation process with the federal government was intended to repair some of the damage done by colonial settlers to the many Indigenous nations across Canada, but it was a slow, painful process.

Sophie was glad the Fraser boys were willing to make a deal so unhesitatingly, though. No amount of money could erase the history and damage done, but it was a step in the right direction.

Logan lifted Storm to growl into her stomach, making her release a baby giggle that was highly infectious, putting smiles on all their faces.

Poignant ones, though.

These siblings had finally come together into something like a family. Now they were talking about leaving the place that had been their childhood home and fragmenting again.

The front door suddenly flung open. Biyen burst in, panting as though he’d run across the entire island. “Is my mom—Oh. Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, bud. Knock first when you come in here, okay? Close the door and take off your shoes. Did you have fun with JayJay?”

“Yup.” He toed off his shoes and came around the sofa to drop on his knees beside Logan, ignoring all the adults to say, “Hi Stormin’ Norman McDoorman.” He touched Storm’s hand, inviting her to grab his finger.

Storm toppled herself straight at him, steadied only by Logan’s firm grip on her.

“Oh no, I’m being attacked. Help, help!” Biyen folded himself to the floor and pulled Storm onto his chest, hugging her there while he rolled his head as though helpless. “She’s going to eat me and kill me. Logan,” he gasped. “Save me.”

“I’m paralyzed by baby spit, bud. You’re on your own.” He kept a hand outstretched, though, ready to protect Storm’s head if she rolled off Biyen and into the edge of the couch.

“Mom. I’m your only son.”

“That we know of.”

Biyen giggled and Logan sent her a pithy look over his shoulder.

---