He couldn’t help but laugh. She was right. He appreciated his sister and was glad that they had somewhat resolved their issue at the birthday party. Patrick just hoped that she would now mind her own business when it came to his love life, or, well, lack there of.
She left his office, leaving him alone with his thoughts and some invoices to sort out. A half an hour had passed when Patrick glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall when another knock interrupted Patrick’s thoughts. “Come in,” he said.
“Hey, man, you about ready to go?” Daniel said as he peeked in.
Downing the last sip of coffee, Patrick grabbed his keys and followed Daniel to the work truck. He waved to Maggie as he passed her desk. The coffee had helped once again. Thank God for those little magical beans.
***
Patrick walked to the driver’s side of the large truck and went to open it, but the handle was hot to the touch. He rubbed his two fingers after burning them. “Damn.”
Daniel hopped inside the truck. “Come on, quit being a baby. Get in, we need to go.”
The drive to the site was a quiet one, the radio on low, a country song playing softly in the cab of the truck. Every now and again Daniel would sing along, and when it seemed like he forgot the lyrics, he would hum. As their truck rounded the stop and they found themselves down Main Street, they couldn’t help but notice how alive the town appeared. People were out and about; they lined both of the sides of the street.
“Boy, town’s hopping. No surprise, though, look at how nice it is outside,” Daniel commented as he looked out the window.
“School will be out next week, I think.”
“Yeah, I think Liam was telling me that. We sure are going to be having a busy summer, with him getting married and all.”
“So, what do you think about that?” Patrick took his eyes off the road briefly and looked at Daniel.
“You know, I like her. Rachel’s really nice to him. Plus, they kind of don’t have a lot of choice in the matter, expecting a baby and all.”
“Two babies,” Patrick said as he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “God, can you imagine, barely dating some girl, then finding out she’s pregnant, then to find out it’s twins?”
Daniel frowned and shook his head “Nah, but Liam loves her, Patrick. I kind of think he loved her from the moment he saw her.”
“Maybe, but I still worry it’s a little soon. I mean, Daniel, in less than a month they are getting married.”
“Hey, at least it’s not you or me. So, I’m good with it. He seems happier, and honestly isn’t that what it’s all about?”
Patrick considered this for a moment; Daniel was right: happiness was what it was all about. It was how Beth had made him feel. He should want Liam to feel that way, but something inside him shuddered at the thought of his brother getting married and having a family. He was jealous, simply put.
Of course, he wanted his brother to get married and have children, but Patrick wanted that for himself again. The hard part was that he’d had it once, until it was taken from him.
***
The sky was still rather light when Patrick locked up the shop at the end of the day. They had landed the job, which wasn’t a huge surprise; he’d had a good feeling about it when they arrived at the site. They were honest and offered a fair price to do the work. He got into his SUV and drove toward his family’s home. Patrick was hopeful that his sons were either fully exhausted or in fantastic moods, neither of which they had been earlier that morning.
As he parked along the curb, Patrick noticed Maggie and Rachel’s cars—both sleek, sporty, and very expensive, and quite out of place in Birch Valley. He walked past them, his fingers itching to touch them; the glint of the evening sun bouncing off the flawless paint teased him. He looked back at his own car, which was a somewhat modern SUV. It had a lot of the bells and whistles, and Beth had insisted they purchase a nice family vehicle, so they had settled on the forest green mid-sized four-wheel drive SUV. But there was something about a racy sports car that intrigued Patrick.
“Oh, Patrick, sweetheart,” Mary cried out as she poked her head out from the kitchen, her favorite room in the house.
“Hi, Mom.” Patrick hurried down the hall to her, planting a gentle kiss on her soft, weathered cheek.
Mary wore her favorite floral apron. She wrapped her arms around him. “How was your day? Did you want to stay for dinner? I made pot pies.”
How could he refuse? “Sure, that’s sounds great.” After he hugged her, he moved to the dining table, where Maggie and Rachel greeted him with happy smiles. “Hey, what are you gals up to?”
“Wedding planning.” Rachel rolled her blue eyes toward the ceiling and let out a long sigh.
Maggie laughed. “You and Liam insisted that you guys wanted to have your wedding on the Fourth of July.”
“Well, I didn’t have a whole lot to say in the matter, now did I?” Rachel rubbed her stomach, which wasn’t nearly as protruding as Maggie’s.
Patrick shook his head and pivoted his body toward the kitchen. “Mom, how were the boys today?”
“Good, as always.” Her smile beamed from across the kitchen as she was checking on several pot pies that were in the oven. With perfect timing as usual, the two young boys ran into the kitchen and made a beeline for Patrick.
“Daddy!” they shouted in unison.
“Hey, my lil guys.” Patrick scooped them up and squeezed them tightly.
Finn giggled as Connor announced. “Grams is making pop pies.”
“I heard. That’s nice of Grams to make pot pies for dinner,” Patrick corrected.
Rachel covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh, I just can’t wait. They are so adorable.”
“They have their moments,” Patrick said as released Finn and Connor, who took off running to go play in the backyard.
“How is it? I mean, having twins,” Rachel asked carefully.
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been my only experience so far.”
“You have a point there. I’m just so scared. Like, if one needs to be fed and the other changed, how do you manage?” Rachel looked up at him, her eyes nervous. He knew why.
“You guys will manage.” That was the only answer he could think to say. He didn’t feel like going into any further detail.
Rachel bowed her head. “I suppose you’re right.”
Instantly he felt terrible and mentally kicked himself for not being more sensitive. She hadn’t meant anything by her questions. “Trust me, you guys are going to do great. You will be a good mom, Rachel.” Patrick offered her a smile, which she promptly returned.
Mary came over to the table with a stack of plates. “Do you mind setting the table?”
Patrick nodded. “No problem, Mom. Is Liam coming over? What about Michael and Melanie? I didn’t see her running around.”
“Mel’s with Michael. She’s hanging out with him at his office,” Maggie replied as she rose from her seat to grab the silverware her mother was now bringing to the table.
“Yeah, when is he planning on opening?”
“Well, hard to say, he’s really taking his time setting up the new practice. He worked so much back in Seattle, I think he kind of enjoys just doing nothing.” Maggie started to set the table.
The table was quickly set, and Mary brought over the steaming pot pies from the oven. “I think it’s just lovely that Michael is spending so much quality time with Melanie. It will be even nicer for her when school lets out,” Mary added after she placed all the flaky, golden pies on each plate. “I’m going to let Dad and Grandpa Paddy know that dinner is ready,” she said as she left the kitchen.
Patrick started to head for the back door. “I’ll go get the boys and have them wash up.”
“Yeah, I’d better get out of here. I need to go make dinner for my family,” Maggie said regretfully. She bent down to give Rachel a hug and then walked over to Patrick, hugging him briefly before departing.
/> Patrick called out to Finn and Connor to come inside as he waited by the door for the boys.
They ran at full speed, again racing to see who could get to the door first. It surprised Patrick to see Connor outrun his brother. The confused look that Finn wore on his little face was priceless.
“Daddy, did you see that? I beated Finn. I’m the fastest.” Connor smiled widely as he passed Patrick to go wash up.
Finn looked almost teary eyed at having lost. Patrick reached out and grabbed Finn’s shoulder. “You can’t always win, son. You guys are both pretty fast. Now go wash up.” He watched as Finn sulked away.
“There’s my little lads.” Patrick could hear his grandfather’s thick brogue as he entered the kitchen, the twins brushing past him. “Patrick, how’s your day been?”
“Good, Grandpa Paddy,” he replied as he followed the older man to the table.
“Everything fine at the shop then?”
Patrick made it a point to keep his grandfather in the loop about the business. When there were any new contracts or ideas, he went to his father and grandfather. They trusted Patrick to run it, but he knew that they appreciated that he came to them for advice and included them in some of the decisions. “Just landed a new job, went for the bid today.”
Grandpa Paddy nodded and took his place at one end of the table. “Well done, son.”
Mary entered shortly after with the twins. “Now go have a seat, my little loves,” she said as she ushered them toward the table.
“Everything looks great, dear.” Patrick’s father, Pat had joined them. He stopped to give Mary a peck on the cheek, and she blushed instantly. Patrick couldn’t help but smile at the simple exchange of affection.
“Everyone help yourselves. Go on, now.” Mary fanned her hands at them encouragingly.
Moments later, Daniel and Liam arrived. “Smells amazing in here,” Daniel announced loudly as he found his place at the table.
“Grams made pop pies. They are so yummy, Uncle Daniel,” Finn said as he tried to fork a rogue potato from his dish.
“Well, they do look yummy.” Daniel ruffled Finn’s springy mop of blonde curls and mussed Connor’s as well before sitting down next to the boys.
Liam bent to kiss Rachel before taking his seat. “Mom, everything looks great. Thanks.”
“Good, now go on and eat. Everything is bound to get cold if you don’t dig in soon,” Mary said. She took her place near Pat.
Patrick surveyed the table. His family looked content as they ate and chatted. He glanced over at Liam and Rachel, but they were unaware of his gaze, lost in their own little love-infused bubble. His own parents’ love could be seen radiating from them as they ate; theirs was that solid kind of love, the foundation upon which their entire family had been built, strong and everlasting. Patrick could feel eyes on him, and he looked to see Grandpa Paddy, the older man’s green eyes speaking volumes to Patrick. He clearly understood what Patrick was feeling; he knew loss. It was as though Patrick was looking in a mirror at a reflection of his future self—the same eyes, the same dark Irish features, even the same name. Even with the family gathered around, he could see how alone his grandfather was, and he sensed their shared sadness. With that, his grandfather gave him a curt nod of sympathy, which Patrick returned with a tight-lipped smile.
Chapter Three
Amber
“Damn.” Amber heard the loud pop sound and felt the car shudder and swerve. She gripped the steering wheel tighter as she eased her foot on the brake.
“Mom, what was that?” Dylan removed his headphones and looked over at her. His messy, overgrown, sandy brown hair hung in his eyes. He swatted it away, revealing his sea green eyes, which were the same color as her own. But he looked just like his father, and it made her heart squeeze tighter in her chest. It had been almost two years—two long, miserable years.
She pulled over to the shoulder of the road, the gravel crunching under the tires. She undid her seat belt. “You stay inside. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
“You want me to go with you?” She could see the hurt behind Dylan’s eyes.
“No, sweetie, it’s fine.” Amber watched as he shrugged and then placed his headphones back over his ears. He was twelve, almost thirteen years old, and in a rush to leave childhood behind.
She unplugged her cellphone from the car charger. She figured she could try and call for help. Once outside the small car, Amber saw she didn’t have much of a signal on her phone. She looked up and down the desolate road. Not a sound. It was eerily quiet. Why did she have to take this old country road? She should have just stayed on the main one, which would have led her straight into Birch Valley. Amber thought she remembered her way around the rural little town. She was born and raised there, after all.
Amber lifted her phone toward the sky in hopes of getting a better signal. She looked down and noticed the frayed pieces of rubber strewn across the pale asphalt road. Well, crap, that sure doesn’t look good. She caught sight of the shredded tire on the trailer, which was carrying all of their belongings—what was left from leaving Portland behind. But they were needed in Birch Valley; her parents needed her. Amber bent down to get a closer look at the tire. Anxiety started to burn through her as she realized she was in a little over her head. She had no idea how to change a tire. She looked at her phone again, and when she saw that there was still no signal, panic started to fill her. Amber rose from her crouched position and considered several things as she mounted her hands on her jean-clad hips. She could always try to ride her trusty bicycle to town to get help. Back in Portland, she pedaled her way just about everywhere. The city was incredibly bicycle friendly, and she’d loved it. She loved a lot about Portland, but the last two years had been rough; some of the most trying times in her life, in fact. She was thankful, even relieved, almost, that her parents had asked for her to come back home to help out at their diner. Her son, Dylan, wasn’t thrilled about leaving all of his friends, and basically everything he had ever known, to come to some town in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t visited Birch Valley over the course of the nearly fifteen years she had been gone, but it was one thing to visit, another thing altogether to move there. Lost in her thoughts and focused on her dire situation, Amber almost didn’t see the dark green SUV slowing down on the opposite side of the road.
She couldn’t deny the relief that flooded through her. She was completely out of her league dealing with the blown tire. Maybe the driver of the SUV would be able to help her. She raised her hand slightly, and as the driver rolled down his window she was met with the most incredible emerald eyes staring back at her. They were eyes she remembered a little too well; all of the girls in Birch Valley had fallen in love with those eyes; they belonged to none other than Patrick O’Brien.
***
Patrick
He could see something coming up in the road and started to reduce his speed. He’d wanted to go for a drive. He wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, he just wanted to clear his mind. People hardly traveled on this old country road, and as he pulled up he noticed that a car with a small trailer had its hazard lights on. A woman was standing by the side of it, one arm extended high toward the sky, not to flag him down, but by the looks of it trying to get a signal for her cell phone. Well, good luck with that.
Rolling his window down, he cautiously asked, “Excuse me, do you need any help?”
What Patrick wasn’t prepared for was the most incredible eyes that stared back at him; they were a deep, sea green, and they appeared helpless and lost. Her face held a hint of something familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Her long black hair hung down to the middle of her back, several strands flying wildly with the swift breeze.
“Hi, thanks so much for stopping. We blew a tire on that trailer.” She pointed at the small rental trailer that was connected to the car.
“Do you mind if I take a look?” Patrick offered.
“I’d be very grateful.”
&
nbsp; He maneuvered his own vehicle off the road and parked behind the trailer. Patrick hopped out and met her by the shredded tire; bits and chunks of rubber were scattered nearby. He knelt down to see if there was a spare. Luckily there was.
“I can change this and get you back on the road,” he said as he assessed the situation. “I’m Patrick O’Brien, by the way.” He extended his hand to her after wiping it on the back of his jeans.
Her mouth opened wide into a pleasant and grateful smile. “I thought that was you. I’m Amber Mills,” she said but then shook her head as Patrick gave her a confused look. “I mean, I was Amber Herrick. My parents own the diner in town. You and I went to school together.”
That’s where I know her from. I knew she had looked familiar. Patrick was floored with how gorgeous Amber was. He didn’t remember her looking like that in school; he would’ve remembered her for sure.
She stood a lot shorter than him, her curvy figure hugged in dark wash jeans and a soft red cotton shirt. Patrick couldn’t explain the sudden attraction he felt toward her as he tried desperately to pull himself together. This wasn’t like him at all, easily stirred up by a woman.
“So, what brings you back to Birch Valley?”
Amber bit her lip. Patrick tried hard to resist staring at her full mouth as she said, “Well, I’m moving back.”
Damn.
Patrick swallowed, his eyes trained on the fullness of her pink lips. “R-really?” he stammered as he fought to focus on anything else than the movement of her mouth.
Amber lowered her gaze to the weathered asphalt road. “Yeah, my parents need my help at the diner.”
Patrick furrowed his brow as confusion started to set in. “Everything okay there?”
“Not really, no,” he heard her say as they started to walk back to his car. He lifted up the back hatch of his SUV to grab the tools for the job. Patrick wasn’t quite sure what to say next; he wasn’t one for prying into others’ lives. He decided to wait until she elaborated a bit more.
Patrick's Promise (Cloverleaf #3) Page 3
