Mom sent me straight to work, but Mallory didn’t make it past the foyer.
“She looks just the same,” Dad said as he shucked an ear of corn over the farmhouse sink. Stringy hairs stuck to the porcelain, our fingers, and clothes. We’d cleaned about twenty ears, but easily had another thirty to go. “More mature, but still has those adorable freckles and beautiful red hair.”
“Should I be concerned that it sounds like you have a crush on my girlfriend?”
“Oh, please.” Dad passed me another ear when I held an empty palm up. “You sure about what you’re doing, Cliffy? I mean, she seems great and all and I remember how head over heels you were for her when you were young, but you’re adults now. Both of you have been married. This isn’t high school anymore.”
“I know that.” I’d only been at my parents’ since mid-afternoon and we were already two lectures in. “I’m taking things slow. Painfully slow.”
“Okay, okay.” Dad laughed his deep, bear of a growl. “Maybe with the physical stuff, but I think in this instance it might be the emotional that is even more important. It’s only been a little over a year and a half since her husband was murdered, Heath.”
My face blanched. I ripped the husk of the corn in my hands harder than I should have.
“I looked it up, he—”
“I don’t want you to be the one to tell me.” I halted Dad with a corn pressed to his chest. “I’ll ask her.”
Dad pushed my hand, steadily lowering the vegetable like it had been some kind of weapon. “And just think about how hard that’s going to be for her. To retell that story.”
“No question, it will be hard. But I’m here for her. Always.”
A sigh pushed out of Dad so slowly. “I’m worried about you, too, Son. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“And I appreciate that, but life involves hurt. I’m don’t plan on living a safe life just to avoid it. What’s the fun in that?”
Shaking his head while smiling, Dad looked down at the growing pile of husks and hairs. “Looks like a tornado blew through here. Mom’s not going to be happy with this mess we’ve made.”
“Sir, put us to work.” I spun around to find Lucas, Mark, and Tabitha standing at the kitchen entry. They each wore their country finest, Lucas sporting a black cowboy hat to match. He tipped it my direction and yelled, “Let the hoedown begin!”
“I will be picking straw out of my hair for the next week.”
Mallory stood barefoot on the deck. The moon washed a silver glow across her pale skin, making her shimmer under its light.
“I didn’t expect you to fall off the horse before actually getting on.”
“I told you I’d never ridden one before!”
“Well, technically you still haven’t ridden one.”
Her lips, shiny and plump, spread into a slow smile. “Maybe horses aren’t my thing.”
I drew a hand to my chest and feigned shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Something Mallory Alcott does not like? This is a first!” Then I realized the mistake in my words. “Mallory Quinn.”
She didn’t acknowledge my flub. “I can’t like everything. Peanut butter and horses don’t make the cut, I suppose.”
The bonfire roared up ahead. The students’ shadowy figures danced around it, the beat of the music that pulsed from the speakers guiding their bodies and movements.
“Looks like they’re having a lot of fun. I can’t believe your parents put this on every year. That’s awfully generous of them.”
“They like doing it. Mom always says a house isn’t a home unless it’s full of those you love. And they love that I love my job, so by default, I love my students and since my parents love me, they love them, too.”
“And those kids really love you, Heath.” Her green eyes sparked my way. “They care about you. I had a chance to talk to several of them and it’s clear you’ve influenced them greatly. Lucas speaks of you constantly at the shop. You’re quite a role model.”
Compliments weren’t always easy to receive, especially when I was just doing my job. But it did make me feel good to hear it. It made the lesson planning, the paper grading, and the lecturing all worth it.
“It helps that it’s a great group of kids this year. Well, every year, really.”
I took her hand and pulled her over to the pair of white rocking chairs. Instead of taking the one at my side, though, she slipped down onto my lap and threw her hands around my neck.
“Hey,” I said against her forehead. “There’s something I want to talk about.”
Mallory’s frame pulled taut, like a coat hanger straightening her back. “Everything okay?” Tension was thick in her voice and shrouded in her stare.
“Yeah, yeah,” I assured. “It’s just … I just—I just want to learn more about Dylan. If you’re willing to talk about him.”
“What would you like to know?” Her readiness eased some of the anxiety from me. I pushed off the deck with my toe to rock the chair.
“How you met,” I answered. “How he died.”
“Okay.” She swallowed, then filled her lungs with a breath. “Well, I was there for the first, but not the second, so I can only tell you what I know, but I’m more than willing to share.”
I continued to rock us back and forth. “You’re all right with that?
“Of course, Heath. It’s not a secret.”
“But I’m sure it’s painful to relive.”
“Well, yeah, it is. But it’s healing, too.”
I could understand that. It had been healing to talk with the counselor that Kayla had refused to see, and death wasn’t even involved in that scenario. Mourning occurred on a much different scale when it was the loss was life and not just a relationship.
“Dylan was the officer who found Nana and me after the accident.”
I stopped rocking. The blood in my veins ceased pumping, making me rigid, like every inch of me solidified. I tried to mask my shock when I asked, “You’re serious?”
“Yes.” It was matter-of-fact information for her. “It was his first year on the job. He was the one to give me CPR. He basically saved my life.”
She’d been revived. That was the detail I’d always held closely to, fastened in my grip like a tangible hope. She’d been given another chance at life. In the recent weeks, I’d wondered if I’d been the reason for it—if our second chance had been the reason for her second chance.
It suddenly felt like the most selfish reason of all.
He’d saved her. And he’d been given the chance to fall in love with her.
“At first he just visited to check in on me. It was purely a friendship. After all, I was only seventeen and he was twenty-one at the time.” My stomach roiled. “But once I got out of the hospital, he continued his visits, not often, maybe a couple of times a month. When I graduated, he came to my party and that’s when he first asked me out.”
“So he was what, twenty-two and you were eighteen?” It felt a little like he was robbing the cradle, but it felt equally as wrong for me to judge a dead guy. I hadn’t been there to know the details of how their relationship progressed.
I hadn’t been there.
That was the hardest truth to swallow.
“Yes, Dylan was four years older than me.” There was no shame in her tone, and it made me guilty over my quick and judgmental feelings. “We dated for three years before he asked me to marry him. We were together on and off in the beginning, but were serious for the last two before he proposed.”
He’d been gone over a year now. That meant Dylan had been in her life for an entire decade.
We’d only dated for six months as kids.
How could I ever, in this lifetime, compete with what they had?
It wasn’t possible.
“I had no idea you’d been together that long.” I didn’t want it to come out the way it did, how the sentence fell from my lips like the disappointment that formed it.
“Ten years, give or take.”
>
“Yeah.” I’d calculated that. “Wow.”
“It wasn’t a perfect marriage, Heath.” She interpreted my reaction. “We loved each other, but our life wasn’t easy. We had struggles to overcome. He wasn’t always faithful. He was a decent and hardworking man, but not the best husband.”
And now I wanted to punch a dead guy.
“It’s hard to think about those things, though, especially with him gone,” she continued. Mallory looked out into the pasture, at the fire that climbed into the sky with its flames licking against the black backdrop of night. “By nature, we only want to remember the good in people. And Dylan had a lot of good, so much of it.”
“I’m sure he did. For him to be worthy of your love, he must’ve.”
“He was a good man, Heath.” It felt like an apology each time she defended his honor. “He loved me in the way he knew how. And he loved Corbin. When he found out we were pregnant, things changed for us. For the better.”
My heart broke for her, for the loss she’d experienced with Dylan’s death, but also for the pain she’d experienced during his life. “I’m so glad,” was all I could say.
“It was just a routine traffic stop, that’s all it was.” Her voice started to shake with emotion. I pulled her tighter to my chest. “Something went terribly wrong. The man had a warrant out for his arrest. He shot Dylan five times in the chest the moment he walked up to his window. He never saw it coming.”
I was nauseous with grief, with the pain I knew Mallory felt on a daily basis. “God, Mallory. I’m so sorry.”
“I’d anticipated it our entire marriage, I think. Every time a cruiser would drive by the house, I was certain it was that news. That he was dead. I think anyone who has a spouse in that line of work thinks that way. The worst-case scenario is always tucked in the back of your mind. Maybe not even in the back. Maybe it’s always just hanging out in the forefront.”
That made so much sense, but I couldn’t imagine ever living that—dealing with the day to day worry that the other shoe was about to drop. “His death must’ve been impossible to live through.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t call it living.” Mallory shook her head. “I’m grateful for his family. They took me into their care and under their wing and made sure I put one foot in front of the other each and every day. Corbin and I might not be here if it weren’t for them.”
The gratitude I felt for two people I’d yet to meet was enormous. They’d saved Mallory and Corbin. There was not a Thank You big enough or loud enough to ever show my appreciation.
“I hate that I’ve summarized his entire life in a five-minute conversation, but that’s what it is. That’s what we were. I hope that answers some of your questions.”
“It does,” I said. “It does.”
“Listen.” She scooted back, balanced on the edge of my knee. “I get that this isn’t easy. It’s not easy to date a widow, I know that. Or a single mother. And if it’s too much, it’s okay for you to walk away. Honestly, I get it. It’s a lot to deal with.”
“To deal with?” My neck snapped. “You and Corbin are not something to deal with, Mallory. It’s an honor to get to be with you. Whether it’s me or someone else later down the road, I sure hope you always feel that. Honored. Cherished.”
Her mouth crept up at the edges, the hesitant curl of a smile forming on her lips. “Heath. You always were such a good guy.” She swung her hair back from her face and tucked it over her shoulder. “I remembered that about you. Your maturity and sincerity. I never thought it would keep growing. I’d just assumed you’d matured emotionally earlier than everyone else.”
“I have a feeling the two people who raised me would beg to differ.”
“Maybe so,” she said. “But I see it. You’ve become this awe-inspiring person. This beautiful soul.”
Our mouths were mere seconds from colliding when a young voice broke our momentum.
“Sir, I just wanted to thank you for all of this tonight.” When Lucas noticed he’d all but cock blocked me, he muttered, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s okay, Lucas,” I said, noticing something of my own as well. His hand gripped tightly to Sabrina’s, their fingers intertwined. “You two have a good night?”
“The best.” Lucas turned his attention to Sabrina, who shed a small smile. She hid her emotion behind the drape of her hair that crossed her cheek. “Couldn’t have asked for anything more.”
“Then my work here is done,” I said. Mallory hopped from my lap and I rose to stand. With an extended hand, I offered it to Lucas, a sort of congratulatory gesture. “It was an honor to be your teacher this year, Lucas. You have a bright future ahead of you. I’m glad I had the chance to be a part of your story.”
Lucas took my palm in his grip and gave it a firm and impressive shake. “My story isn’t ending and you’re still very much a part of it, Mr. McBride. This is just the chapter where I get my diploma.”
“I like that way of thinking.” I nodded, pulling him in for a one-armed hug the only way guys knew how to hug.
It must’ve been time for the festivities to wrap up because Mallory and I spent the next half hour saying our farewells and goodbyes. I wanted to tell them all it wasn’t over like Lucas had said. That there was hope for more after that graduation cap was tossed high into the air.
Mallory and I were proof of that. Of the potential for more.
That reality spread through me as I looked at her. She was waving at the last car to pull down the long drive, and when her eyes swung my way, she startled.
“I still love you, Mallory.”
It flew out, the truth set for escape. Then, like she had so many years before, she slipped into my arms, her head against my chest, as she said, “I know, Heath. I still love you, too.”
Mallory
I stared at the open suitcase, studying the garments rolled and crammed into it like some complicated game of Tetris. The nightie lay on the mattress beside the luggage and it mocked me with its pink lace and sheer, billowy fabric. Heath and I weren’t in the spending-the-night-together realm yet. Though it was nearing the end of June and we’d been seeing each other a little over two months, things were moving slowly. Crawling. I couldn’t say I was upset by that because put together, the two of us had way more baggage than the suitcases we had prepared for our trip.
But a girl could dream, right? Or at least fantasize.
I was surprised when he’d asked if he could accompany Corbin and me to Kentucky for Tommy’s birthday. Most people did not willingly sign up for a four-and-a-half-hour flight with a baby in tow. It was a little like electing to have a root canal procedure or an ingrown toenail dug out. Being trapped in a floating prison in the sky with a screaming baby did not make for a relaxing vacation.
And Heath was definitely on vacation. I knew he was a teacher and that he’d have summers off, but I didn’t think I registered what that meant. Summer Vacation Heath was a night owl. Though he never technically “stayed over,” there were many nights that he left my place when it was, in fact, the next morning, the sun creeping up above the dusky horizon. The hour when the only others on the road were paper delivery boys or those finishing up their night shifts and heading home for sleep.
Since Heath didn’t have a job to get to in the morning, he’d push for just one more episode of whatever our current television series binge happened to be, or just one more game of Scrabble or Yahtzee. Which all ended up with us falling asleep on the couch, our arms intertwined, our breaths in sync as we napped away what could’ve been a deep slumber had we headed to the bedroom, instead.
But that hadn’t happened, and from what I could tell, it didn’t seem like it was on the table or his radar. I respected Heath enough not to pry. There was a line he’d drawn for whatever reason, and I wasn’t about to barrel through it just because I happened to find an incredibly flattering piece of lingerie at the mall this week, on sale no less. Maybe I would sneak up to that line, but I wasn’t going
to cross it unless he took my hand and led me there.
“Knock, knock!”
Heath’s voice rang out as he traipsed down the hall. My stomach jumped into my throat and I jammed the lingerie into the luggage, shutting it closed with clumsy fingers that weren’t able to manage pulling the zipper all the way around. When he reached my room, his two large hands hooked the doorframe and his eyes popped open. He looked amazing in his V-neck heather gray shirt and low slung jeans, worn in all the right places. The sunglasses shoved to his hairline were a trendy and sexy touch, too.
“Mallory, why are you sitting on your suitcase?” he asked, pulling down his glasses and bringing one of the arms to his mouth to bite it between his teeth. His brow strained. “Did you really overpack that much? We’re only going to be gone for four days.” He came over and bumped me off the luggage with a push from his elbow and settled his glasses into the deep scoop of the neckline on his shirt. “Here, let me help.”
“No!” My assertion flew from me. I struggled to grab the suitcase from him in a playful tug-o-war. “I’ve got it under control.”
Famous last words, Mallory.
Like a bomb of fabric detonating in the middle of my bedroom, the suitcase burst open, my clothing scattering all directions. My socks landed on the dresser. My jeans, a heap on the rug. And my nightie was now a scarf, flung unceremoniously around Heath’s neck.
“What’s this?” He pulled at a thin strap. When the lingerie fell from his shoulder and its form became recognizable, his face went white. “Oh. Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
I yanked the nightie from his frozen hands and balled it into mine. “It’s nothing. Just pajamas. Didn’t you pack pajamas?”
Heath was still unmoving. “Yeah, yeah. My Superman ones.” There was a shallow quiver in his voice. “Those are not footsie pajamas, Mallory. And here, all, this time, I’d thought you wore a gigantic onesie to bed.”
Where We Left Off Page 17
