Walk On By (Passing Through Series Book 3)

by Sarah Hegger

  “Thank you.” You had to like a kid who had great taste in footwear. Speaking of which, Brinn’s socks had big smiley bees and flowers on them. “I like your socks.”

  “Ciara has dragonflies on hers.” Brinn pointed at her sister’s feet.

  A still counterpoint beside Brinn, Ciara had joined them and watched Claire with wise eyes that seemed to see too much. “I like them because they’re blue,” Ciara said.

  “I like blue.” The oldest boy joined his sisters. His features resembled Finn’s, so he probably took after his father more, but with Poppy’s dark eyes. “Are you Horace’s daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  A toddler lurched toward her and fastened sticky, chubby arms around her knees. She winced for her linen skirt.

  The toddler looked up at her and raised his arms. “Up!”

  Claire barely suppressed a shudder as she took in the sticky, filthy hands and the green and pink smears all over his baby cheeks. But he looked so earnest she bent anyway.

  “Whoa! A Sean frosting alert.” Finn swept into the kitchen and scooped up the toddler. He grinned at her over the little boy’s head. “I’m already hot and sweaty.”

  Sean shrieked and giggled and grabbed fistfuls of Finn’s dark hair.

  For a moment, Claire envied those chubby fists their grip on that shiny dark hair. Which was the weirdest thought she could have had. It must be the stress of the situation.

  “Uncle Finn!” The other three set up a clamor for his attention.

  Nobody Claire knew had children. Surely that level of noise couldn’t be normal? She barely contained her wince at the ear-splitting pitch.

  It didn’t appear to bother Finn at all as he simultaneously stopped Sean from scalping him, listened to a football story from Ryan and expressed the appropriate admiration to Brinn for someone called Maddy’s new hair ribbons.

  Poppy smiled at Finn and her children as she tidied up bags and shoes. She ducked past Claire on her way to the fridge. “Excuse me.”

  Trying to evade her, Claire nearly stepped on Ciara. “Oh!” The idea of her heels connecting with Ciara’s feet made her wince. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” Ciara smiled at her.

  Next time she might not be so lucky, so Claire retreated to the far counter.

  Poppy had a loaf of what looked like homemade bread on the counter and was slicing it. “Brinn can you tell Horace that lunch is nearly ready?”

  Brinn hopped on one leg out the door and yelled, “Horace! Mom says lunch is ready.”

  Poppy’s gaze connected with hers. Understanding flared between them, and Poppy gave her a tiny smile and an eyeroll. “I meant you should go and find him and tell him lunch is ready,” she said to Brinn, who swapped legs and hopped to the kitchen table.

  “I don’t like ham.” Ryan hung off the end of the counter edge where Poppy was working.

  “Yes, you do.” Poppy put ham on the bread slices. “And please stop doing that.”

  The mound of sandwiches in front of Poppy grew. She was now cutting vegetables and arranging them on a platter. “Ciara, please set the table. Ryan, get water glasses. Brinn, get everyone a plate.”

  “And one for Claire?” Brinn hopped over to the welsh dresser.

  Poppy looked at her questioningly. “I’ve made plenty. You’re welcome to.”

  “No. No, thank you.” Those sandwiches looked delicious, pillowy and fresh and packed with ham. But she couldn’t break bread with the enemy. Eating Poppy’s food and then kicking her and her kids out was below even her.

  Although she couldn’t kick them out just like that. The kids needed a place to stay. She hadn’t been thinking about them when she came here.

  “You sure about that?” Finn kissed Poppy’s cheek. “Poppy’s bread is the closest thing to heaven you’ll taste this year.”

  Finn’s blue eyes heated Claire’s skin, and she looked away to hide her reaction. “I’m sure. I had something on the drive here.”

  “You’re missing out.” Finn draped an arm over Poppy’s shoulder. “When are you gonna dump that cop and marry me?”

  Poppy laughed and shoved him away. A look passed between them that spoke of a private joke. “When hell freezes over.”

  “Just thought I’d ask.” Finn stepped back and spread his arms wide. He’d put another T-shirt on, the Nirvana one she’d kicked across the hall, and the logo stretched over his chest.

  Claire dragged her eyes away.

  Horace walked into the kitchen, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. “What’s all this noise about?”

  Immediately Claire wanted to jump in and defend the children.

  “Horace!” The twins ran up to him, and Ciara took his hand.

  Brinn got in front of him and walked backwards. “Maddy’s got new hair ribbons.”

  “Is that so?” Horace touched Ciara’s cheek. “You okay, Mouse?”

  Ciara beamed up at him and nodded.

  “Yup.” Brinn nodded and sent her pig tails flying again. “They’re green and blue with swirly things on, and they stick up on either side of her head.”

  Claire knew she was staring, but she couldn’t stop. She’d never seen Horace interact with children. He looked like he was comfortable doing it, and even more surprising was that the children looked like they were fond of him.

  “Hey, Horace, guess what?” Ryan waited for Horace to sit and then stood beside him. “I played football at recess today.” He leaned closer to Horace with wide eyes. “With the older boys and they let me play.”

  “Of course, they let you play.” Horace nodded at him. “You’ve got a great arm. I bet your arm is even better than theirs.”

  “It is.” Ryan climbed on the chair beside Horace’s. “I’m a phenom. Uncle Finn says so. Ben says I should try out for the team.”

  Ben Crowe, the local police chief and former husband of the closest thing Claire had to friend in that town, Tara.

  “Then that’s what you should do.” Horace caught sight of her and frowned. He turned away again.

  It didn’t hurt. It didn’t. Only it did, and it shouldn’t.

  “Everybody sit down. On your own chair.” Poppy carried the platter of sandwiches and the vegetables to the table and set them down. Before she sat, she glanced at Claire. “You really are welcome to join us.”

  To hear Tara tell it, Poppy had lured Ben into her trap, coming across all sweet faced and helpless and then working her way beneath his defenses. Tara hadn’t told her that she could add Finn and Horace to the list of Poppy’s conquests. Not in a romantic way, but it was clear that both Finn and Horace thought the world of her.

  Finn poured three glasses of milk and a sippy cup for Sean. He then popped the cap on a beer and gave it to Horace.

  “Claire?” He held a beer up to her.

  Not if she wanted to stay in her skirt. “No thanks.”

  “Iced tea?” He peered in the fridge. “Apple juice? Milk?”

  “Um…water.” The rest of the kitchen watched her with interest. “San Pellegrino?”

  Claire wanted to kick herself. Of course, Twin Elks didn’t have San Pellegrino, and she’d made herself look like a snob. Not that she cared what they thought of her, but she wasn’t a snob.

  “What’s that?’ Ryan sprayed sandwich over his sisters.

  Brinn gave him a shove. “Eww, Ryan! Mom, tell Ryan not to speak with his mouth full.”

  “You just did.” Poppy mopped up the damage without so much as a flinch. “And Ryan knows better, because if he doesn’t, he will not be able to eat at the table with the rest of us.”

  Not at all bothered, Ryan chewed with his mouth shut.

  Finn appeared in front of her with a glass of water. “All out of San Pellegrino I’m afraid.” He raised a brow. “Also out of Perrier, Voss and Evian.”

 
She wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide.

  “Tap water’s fine for everyone else,” Horace said. “Otherwise talk to Bart Grover he can get those fancy waters for you.”

  Bart Grover would rather tar and feather her and run her out of town. Claire took the glass and dried her hands with a nearby towel. Next, she dried the sides of the glass. “Tap is fine.”

  “There ya go.” Finn toasted her with his beer and took his place at the table.

  Now she regretted not taking the beer.

  The family tucked into their lunch, talking to each other. Nobody paid any attention to her, and the familiarity tasted sour in her mouth.

  Elementary school lunches all on her own. Claire Mathews with her perfect dresses and neat braids, too scared to get her shoes scuffed or her dresses ripped. Mommy would be so angry if she did. She would look so disappointed and talk and talk about how Claire should know better, and how being a lady was not something you picked and chose.

  The feeling of being invisible drove her out of the kitchen, and she took her water to the front porch. New, unpainted wood contrasted with older wood along the porch railings. The intricate scrollwork was also in the process of repair. That must have been what Finn had been working on when she arrived.

  A porch swing invited her to take a seat in the shade, and Claire took the invitation. Her flight to Denver had come in late, and she’d been up early that morning to make the drive.

  Fall had turned the foliage around her, but the grass still maintained its green. In the old rose garden, the overgrown rosebushes had all been trimmed down in preparation for winter. The sundial in the center had been straightened.

  With a push of her foot, Claire got the seat moving. A flicker of motion in the rose garden made her look over again.

  Nothing.

  She must have imagined it, or perhaps it had been a bird. Birds were currently arguing over a bird feeder hung from the opposite end of the porch.

  Though she hated the house and everything it represented, she still felt peaceful sitting out there watching the quiet street in front of it. She closed her eyes and breathed the fresh air deep into her lungs. When had she last sat so still?

  “There you are.” Finn propped a shoulder against the door jamb. “Kids a bit much for you?”

  Claire dodged the question. “I’m not around many children back home.”

  “And where is that.” He sipped his beer. “Boston?”

  “I’ll go back to Boston when I’m done here.”

  His blue gaze narrowed on her.

  Her evasions hadn’t gone unnoticed, but she wasn’t here to share her life story. “Once I sort this situation out.”

  “Situation?” Finn straightened and strolled over to the banister. He tested one of the new spindles. “You mean this house being yours?”

  Claire appreciated his candor, but something about his manner put her hackles up. “This house is mine.” Everybody in town judged her anyway. What did one more matter? Still she avoided his gaze. She didn’t need to see disapproval written all over his handsome face.

  Finn propped his hips on the balustrade. “I’m sure Horace would disagree with you there. This house is still his.”

  “Horace makes it a point to disagree about whatever he can with me.” Claire tamped down on the anger. Her mother had been trapped in an abusive marriage in that awful house, and Claire wanted to raze it and destroy those memories for her. “And you don’t know anything about me or why I do what I do, so don’t think that you do.”

  “Fair enough.” He kept his face blank. “Then give me a chance to know you and make up my own mind.”

  She almost laughed in his face. “Why would I do that? Twin Elks made up its mind about me years ago. I don’t care enough what they, or you, think of me to bother.”

  “I reckon that’s part of your problem,” Finn said.

  The nerve of this guy. “I wasn’t aware I had a problem.”

  “Really?” Finn looked at her as if he couldn’t quite believe that. “You don’t see that you’re a little…” He waggled his hand.

  “What?” Damn the defensiveness in her voice. “I’m a little what?”

  “Highly strung.” He grinned at her.

  Too shocked to produce a comeback, Claire glared at him. He didn’t even know her. Certainly not enough to make assumptions about her. That Greg had said much the same thing before she left didn’t help. Right before he’d proposed they take a break. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I don’t have to know you that well to notice that about you.” He raised a brow in silent challenge.

  She’d accepted the criticism from Greg. He was her boyfriend, or something like that. They hadn’t left things on clear terms. But Finn, who had only met her today, had no right. No right at all. “You know nothing about me.”

  “But I’d like to,” he said.

  As if she would believe that after he’d called her highly strung. “All you need to know is that I’m planning to get back what is mine, and I won’t let anybody stand in my way.”

  He cocked his head and studied her.

  Resisting the urge to fidget, Claire held his gaze. Those eyes looked like they saw way too much.

  He set his beer on the floor. “Can I give you some advice?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Before you come in here guns blazing, take a moment.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care if she wanted to hear it or not. “Poppy is not who you think she is. Take some time and get to know her before you climb into the ring with her.”

  “Poppy will be fine. If she doesn’t get in my way.” Claire kept her tough-girl face in place. She’d perfected it over years, and she could rely on it. Nobody saw beyond the mask to the girl beneath, and Claire liked it that way. “You have no idea what this house cost me and my mother. I’m not going to stand aside and let it be taken away from me.”

  “I hear you.” Finn picked up his bottle and straightened. “But I still think you’re going about this the wrong way.”

  “Yeah?” She raised a brow at him and kept her expression stony and blank. “Only problem is, I really don’t care what you think.”

  Finn chuckled and strolled off the porch.

  Why had he thought to come out there in the first place? God that man had gotten under her skin, which she really shouldn’t have allowed because he meant nothing to her. That was the only reason she wasn’t going to chase after him and demand he stop laughing at her.

  Ciara stepped on to the porch and gave her a shy smile.

  Claire nodded a greeting.

  Clambering onto the porch swing beside her, Ciara peered up at Claire. “I’m Ciara.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “People sometimes mistake me for my sister.” Ciara heaved a huge sigh. “It’s because I’m the quieter twin. People remember Brinn, but me…” She shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

  “No?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head snaking her long, dark braid down her spine. “While Brinn is talking, talking, talking, I’m doing the watching.”

  The wisdom of that staggered Claire. “I was quiet too.”

  “Did you also watch?” Ciara cocked her head.

  Had she? “No.” Claire recalled herself at Ciara’s age. “I think most of the time, I didn’t want people to see me.”

  “Hmm.” Ciara gave a Yoda-like nod.

  Claire had to ask. “What?”

  “I understand now.” Her dark eyes brimmed with empathy. “Cecily said you were sad.”

  Something ice-cold slithered down Claire’s spine. The name struck a chord inside her. “Cecily?”

  Ciara gave her another enigmatic smile. “She said you would know her when you’re ready.”

  Chapter Three

  Claire didn’t sleep well and woke the
next morning with gritty eyes and a pounding headache. She’d known before she had gotten on the plane that the trip would be difficult.

  Seems that had been an understatement, and she hadn’t accounted for Finn and the children. Less than twenty-four hours, and she wanted to tuck her tail between her legs and run. She had skipped dinner and cowered in her bed the night before, and despite her growling belly she stayed put.

  Above her in the nursery Ciara and Brinn clomped across the floor like they were playing Whack-A-Mole.

  The motion and noise escalated fast. Taps got turned on and off. Pipes squealed and groaned. Poppy’s voice stayed calm and gentle as she woke the children and chivvied them through their morning routine.

  “Ryan?” A deep bass voice that didn’t belong to Finn joined Poppy’s. “Find your shoes, and let’s get to breakfast.”

  “Someone stole them,” Ryan said. “You’re the police. You should open a case file.”

  “Nobody stole your shoes,” Chief Ben Crowe replied, it had to be him. “And I’m not wasting police time looking for the same shoes you lose every morning.”

  “Maybe we need the FBI?” Ryan sounded hugely hopeful.

  Ben chuckled. “We don’t need the FBI.”

  Their voices faded as they descended the stairs.

  In the kitchen, Claire pictured Poppy making breakfast. Probably Horace would join them and Finn.

  “Girls,” Finn called. “Brinn? Ciara? Come on, or you’ll miss breakfast.”

  Damn Finn and his assumptions about her. Those had kept her awake along with everything else last night. He was messing with her composure when she needed to stay focused. Even though they lived in the same house it would be best if she stayed away from him.

  Twin footsteps clattered down the stairs from the nursery.

  “Where’s Claire?” One of the girls asked. They even sounded the same.

  “Still sleeping,” Finn said.

  “Will she be at breakfast?”

  “Probably not.” Finn’s voice faded as his footsteps moved away.

  “But breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” said the twin.

  Finn laughed, a warm, male sound that skittered down Claire’s spine and made her want to laugh with him.