by Rula Sinara
“Did you think he made me run away?”
“He very well could have. He’s a handful.”
“He just needs less sugar and more structured physical activity,” Hope teased. “He’s an attention getter, for sure. And I adore him, somersaults and all. You have incredible children, Ben Corallis.”
“I know,” he said, staring into his hot chocolate.
“I’ve decided to leave, soon. I’ll really miss them.”
“Leave? You just got here,” he said, setting his mug on the landing between them and turning to face her. “You can’t leave yet.”
“Ben, you know I have to. You saw Maddie’s drawing. You’ve seen what’s going on. I’m already in love with that little girl, and it’ll break my heart to leave her, but I don’t want to see hers broken. Not more than it already is. You know I’m right,” she said, putting her now-half-empty mug next to his.
“I did worry about that, but I heard her tonight. I walked by her room, and I thought it was you talking, but she was alone and she clammed up when I walked in. I know I heard her, Hope. It’s a big step. It’s a step she’s taken because of you. I don’t know why or how, but I know it has something to do with you being here. You can’t go. Not now.” He put his hand on her forearm, and Hope felt her chill melt like chocolate. “Please,” he said, then let go. “Give her a chance.”
Maddie had spoken? Hope’s lips parted, but she wasn’t sure what to say. He thought she was healing his daughter, but he didn’t know that she wasn’t good at healing children. Give Maddie a chance? Guilt. She hated it. She’d come to help out in general, and now Maddie’s recovery lay specifically on her shoulders?
She put her forehead against her knees. She’d never forgotten the day she’d volunteered with a group to go vaccinate children at a rural village. They hadn’t planned to do more than that, but there was one boy. He’d looked to be no more than three or four years old. Flies had landed on his lashes and sunken cheeks, drinking the feverish sweat that beaded on his face, but he’d never blinked. Hope had reached out to take him from the Masai woman—his mother—who’d brought him and was pleading with Hope in a dialect she recognized but didn’t speak. Hope had rushed him to the medical tent, ready to help. Ready to save. But he’d died. Of all the children they’d been there to help, it was too late for him.
It had been too late for the man in the emergency room, too.
And now Ben wanted to put Maddie’s recovery in her hands?
Ben didn’t understand that his daughter would speak when she wanted to. Not because Hope was special or had the power to help children.
She looked up and took a deep breath. The cold air made her chest ache. Stay until she speaks, then I don’t care if you go. That was what she heard between the lines.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay. Because you’re asking me to.”
She didn’t have the courage to tell him that, deep down, she didn’t want to leave. And not just because of the kids.
*
BEN CLICKED ON SAVE, then logged in to his email and attached the file. He’d finalized a detailed plan for the security business, including his and Cooper’s different responsibilities and how much of an investment it would take, down to the penny. He hit Send. Sooner or later Coop would agree. He could look the plan over at his own pace, without Ben pressuring—at least not in person—and see that this would be worth it for both of them.
He’d give him a week. If he still refused to work with Ben, then that was it, he’d move on. If Maddie regained her voice, then he knew what he’d have to do. Go back on duty and let Nina and Eric have their way. They’d get to raise his kids the way they saw fit. He’d take on the financially supportive role. Just like before.
A rap at the front door had him closing his laptop. He answered, guessing it had to be Nina because she was the only one who knew he hated the sound of the doorbell.
Nina and Eric stood there. Eric dutifully held at least three plastic containers of cookies, and Nina carried a plastic bag.
“Peace offering,” Eric said. “Though I can’t take credit for making them. Sorry about yesterday.”
“Come in,” Ben said, standing aside.
“These are Hope’s,” Nina said, holding up the plastic bag. “She forgot them in the dryer when you all left.” Nina followed Eric inside.
“You can set them here,” Ben said, waving at the console. “She’s playing in the yard with the kids.” It was turning out to be a sweatshirt kind of day. Not too cold.
“How’s Maddie doing today? Any better?” Nina asked.
“Not really, but she seems okay.” Ben and Hope had agreed to keep Maddie’s tiny bit of progress to themselves, for fear that if everyone got wind of it and made a big deal about it, she might withdraw. Worse yet, she’d hate him for eavesdropping.
“We won’t stay but a few minutes. Would you mind if we went out back? I’d like to apologize to Hope, too,” Eric said.
Ben nodded. He and Eric. Military men. They were expected to be tough. He knew the man was hurting. He was Zoe’s dad. How could he not? Imagine if something worse had happened to Maddie, his own little girl. But he’d never realized just how deep Eric’s pain went and how poorly he’d been coping all these months—until yesterday.
“I don’t see why not,” Ben said. “Stay as long as you like.” And he meant it. He, as a parent, needed to step back and let them be grandparents. This wasn’t just about him raising his kids his way or trying to prove he could do it. This was about them clinging to all they had left of their daughter. The same three kids who were all he had left, too.
They went out back, and Ben cleared his work off the breakfast table before joining them. Nina was at their wooden play yard, pushing Ryan in an infant swing while talking to Hope, who was spotting the end of the slide for Chad. Maddie swung independently next to Ryan. And Eric stood inspecting the state of Ben’s woodpile. Over a year ago, they’d had a tree fall from a storm. Luckily, Ben had been on leave at the time. He’d done a lot of sawing and chopping those few days. The wood had lasted them a long time.
“If you’re not planning to use all that wood, we’ll take some,” Eric said.
“Sure.”
That was it. They were good. Both looked off at the women. Yeah. They were going to be here awhile.
*
“YOU SHOULDN’T BE riding a bike that far in this weather. It’s unpredictable, and it’s not safe on wet roads. Wet leaves are as bad as ice,” Ben said, sticking a store-bought chicken casserole in the oven. He reached past the plastic guard that kept curious little hands out of danger, turned on one of the stove’s back burners and set a small pot of eggs to boil. Chad wanted “dino eggs.” He glanced out into the living room. Maddie, reading a story about a girl and her dog, lay on her belly next to Ryan, who lay on his back underneath a baby gym. Chad, who’d been watching TV, jumped up and ran to the bathroom, announcing his intentions. That summed up parenthood. In one end and out the other.
“Why doesn’t Nina’s stovetop have one of those?” Hope asked, referring to the plastic safety guard.
She didn’t? How’d he miss that?
“Uh, she will have one soon,” he said. They’d had this one up ever since Chad could reach. Pretty soon Ryan would be learning to walk and then grabbing everything in sight. “Back on subject. If you want to borrow a spare car, I know of one.”
Eric had offered her use of his bike, saying that maybe if she lowered the seat, it would work for her. She was fairly tall. But Ben didn’t like the idea of her being on a bike near a main road. Helmet or not. A bike that didn’t fit her well would be even riskier if she lost control. The truth was, he also didn’t want her at Bentley’s or anywhere near there. It wasn’t his place to put restrictions on her, though. She was a grown woman. Bringing up Bentley’s would lead to “why nots,” and that would mean talking about Zoe’s death. Which he didn’t want to do.
“Actually, I don’t drive, so a car won’t do me any
good, but you’re right. Today looks a bit dreary. I might wait and go out tomorrow,” she said, folding a pair of little-boy jeans and adding them to the many stacks of folded laundry on the table as he cooked.
“You don’t drive? As in, not even in Nairobi? ’Cause you know you can use a foreign license here.”
“Not even back home. There’s never been a need. I have a driver. And trust me, it’s safer that he deals with the insane driving there, not me.”
Ben stared at her.
“You have a driver? As in, a private chauffeur?”
It was amazing the things he didn’t know about her.
“Yes,” she said, shrugging. “He and his wife have lived with us my entire life. She’s our cook and was my nanny. They’re really like family.”
Did that mean Hope was like family here? More than just a temporary nanny for his kids?
“Man. Sounds like a perfect life. And you came halfway around the world to ride a bike, change diapers and fold laundry?”
Her lips spread into that gorgeous smile, which creased the corners of her big brown eyes. A man could get lost in that face…that smile. Forget wars existed. Forget pain.
“When you put it like that, it does sound crazy,” she said, reaching into the basket. Her smile faltered, and she licked her lips, but instead of saying more, she pulled out a pair of boxers, then smiled again, holding them up by the waist.
“These look rather large for Chad.”
Ben went over and snatched them from her. “I’ll take those,” he said.
She laughed, bringing her hand to her chest. Her fingers brushed her neck where her fitted green sweater dipped just under three rows of polished tiger’s-eye beads that matched the highlights she had in her otherwise black hair. He stuffed his boxers into his pocket and retreated back to the stove to lower the flame on the eggs.
“You’re good at changing subjects, aren’t you?” he said.
“Ben.” She sighed. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself. As long as I don’t have to cook.”
What did he want her to do? Stay trapped in his house if she wasn’t watching the kids? They’d agreed she needed time off to herself to enjoy her time in the States, and he’d agreed that, even with her here, sometimes Nina and Eric needed time with the kids.
“Fine. But go ahead and use Zoe’s bike. I’ll bring it over here,” he said, staring at the bubbles boiling over the eggs.
“Ben—”
“No, I mean it. It’s a bike. It’s your size. You’ll have better control, so it’ll be safer. I won’t have you getting hurt. And I’d like Maddie to have it here anyway…for her. So just use it. And if it’s too cold, there’s a bus stop a few blocks away that heads to the campus area and mall. I can also drop you off wherever you want to be.”
“Okay.”
He turned off the flame and swung around.
“The kids have appointments at our pediatrician’s office tomorrow,” he said, “so they’ll be with me.” Their doctor was used to handling all three in one room. There wouldn’t be room for another person even if she came. It would be a good time for her to go do whatever she wanted. What did she do in her free time back home?
“Got it,” she said.
He left it at that and went to make sure Chad hadn’t flushed himself down the toilet. And then he took the boxers from his pocket and stuffed them in a drawer, along with everything he wanted but didn’t need to know about Hope Alwanga.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dear Diary,
I found the box of Christmas stuff that Grandma brought over. I heard Daddy fighting with her about not decorating this year. I’m afraid to ask. But that’s okay. I don’t want him sad. I can watch the lights across the street from Chad’s bedroom window instead.
HOPE WAITED FOR the truck in front of her to make a right turn, then she followed. Ben had brought Zoe’s purple bike over last night and had left for the appointments a while ago. Hope could have taken the bus, but why would she on such a gorgeous day? She’d be back at the house before Ben had anything to worry about.
She recognized a man walking down the sidewalk as the one that restaurant owner, Brie, had seemed interested in. Bentley’s wasn’t far ahead. He had his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. He approached the next intersection, clearly favoring one leg. He stopped to make sure it was clear, then stepped off the curb just as the truck in front of her made a right. A horn blared, and for a second, Hope was sure he’d been hit. Adrenaline coursed through her, and she automatically switched to emergency mode, stepping hard on her pedals to get to him quickly. The man jumped back onto the curb, and she gasped in relief. Had he not seen that truck coming?
And here she was with not much more protection. Just the helmet. Ben would freak out if he knew. So would Simba. She passed the man and pulled into Bentley’s parking lot, leaving her bike at the same spot as before.
It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. It was a really bright day, and despite the windows, the wood throughout Bentley’s soaked it in and gave the place a more tavern-like ambiance. At this hour, she expected a buzzing lunch crowd, but the parking lot said otherwise, and only a handful of the tables were filled.
“Hey there,” Brie said. “I’m surprised you’re back. I was sure Wolf had scared you off for good. Grab a seat and I’ll leave him by the bar.” Brie led Wolf away on his leash before Hope could reply.
She went ahead and took the same first booth as before.
The man walked in, blinking several times to adjust. He focused on the bottles lined behind the bar and a hook rack next to them that said, “Enjoy another beer, but first your key goes here.” He didn’t seem to notice Brie approaching—or the way she scratched her cheek and tucked her red hair behind her ear as she walked up to him. Hope wished it was her place to warn her. Clearly the man wasn’t interested.
“Same table, Cooper?” Brie asked.
She knew him? He sure didn’t act like it.
He startled when she greeted him, then answered with nothing but a “yeah.” He followed her, limping, hands still tucked into his front pockets, shoulders slightly hunched. “The usual,” he said without taking the proffered menu or looking up. Wolf whimpered from his spot by the counter.
Brie immediately corrected him with a verbal cue, then turned back to the man. “I think I can remember that.” She tucked her notepad back in her apron and walked to the kitchen. She came out seconds later and headed for Hope’s table.
“So how are you enjoying our little town? It must seem boring to you. Not much sightseeing around here.” She forced a smile, but couldn’t hide her annoyance with the guy she called Cooper.
“Actually, I think it’s lovely. I—”
“I suppose you’re right. This is home for me, though. Grew up here with my uncle’s family. Went to the university here, too. My family has owned this pub for as long as I can remember. It took a lot of talking to convince my uncle to let me take over, rather than sell out.”
Must have been easy for her. Her uncle probably gave in just to shut her up.
“Someone out there always wants to tear down and build something new, you know? Sure, this block is all older shops, but the way I see it, shiny new things only stay that way for so long. This place has character. I love every crack, including the initials college students have carved in so-called secret spots on the sides of these tables over the years. I used to do my homework at this very table, long before I was old enough to serve.”
Hope tilted her head and ran a hand along the table’s edge. Sure enough, there were carvings. Initials joined with plus signs or hearts.
“Listen,” Hope said, thinking that perhaps that word would help her get a few more in. “I came by thinking that maybe you could help me with something.”
Brie glanced back at Wolf and seemed satisfied that he was doing okay. She sat across from Hope.
“Sure.” She shrugged. “If I can.”
Hope looked at Wolf. He was wearing his blue vest today. This was a stupid idea. What was she getting herself into? She rubbed her hands against her jeans.
“Wolf really doesn’t bite? Ever?”
“Never. Oh! You want me to help you get over your fear? Like exposure therapy and all that? I’m no psychologist, but sure, let me bring him over here and—”
“Wait,” Hope said, pulling her hands out from under the table and reaching across. “Please, wait just a second. Hear me out.”
Brie settled back down.
“I’m here visiting a family friend and helping out with his kids. To make a long story short, his daughter hasn’t really spoken since she lost her mother.” Brie’s eyes narrowed. Good. She was finally listening. “She loves animals and I know that you’re raising Wolf as a service dog, but I’ve also heard that puppies are raised to be therapy dogs. I was wondering if maybe you’d be willing to bring Wolf to meet her. Just to see if it makes any difference. If you’re sure he doesn’t bite.”
Hope took a deep breath and waited for Brie’s answer. She’d studied enough to know that phobias weren’t logical. The logical side of her brain told her not all dogs bit and that many people connected with animals better than with other humans. The emotional side of her brain wanted her to put Maddie’s feelings ahead of her own. If this helped her…
Brie looked as though Hope had slapped her across the face. She wasn’t speaking.
“Okay, a bad idea,” Hope said. “Don’t worry, it was just a thought.” She began to get up to leave the booth.
“No, no.” Brie covered her mouth, then set her hand down. “I’m sorry. I happen to know a lot of folks around here… Hometown, this restaurant… Who did you say you’re staying with on Lancaster Street?”
Hope hadn’t, but she’d mentioned the street when she’d asked about delivery last time.
“Ben Corallis. You know him?”
Brie’s nose turned red, and her cheeks tinged with the same shade. She scratched her ear and tucked her hair back.
