Falling for the Brother

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “He said you’d always wanted Mason...” Oh, God. It was true. She hadn’t realized Bruce had known. She hadn’t even admitted the truth to herself until the past week.

  Not with full consciousness.

  “He told me how it happened, that you got drunk with Mason one night, and Mason took you to his place to sleep it off. How he gave you his room and took the couch. Then, when he was asleep, you went to him in the living room and threw yourself at him. When he didn’t call you the next day, you still wanted to marry Bruce. But it wasn’t like you thought it was going to be, was it? Being with Bruce wasn’t a way to stay close to Mason. To see him, when he shunned you. He never came around. You being there kept him from his brother, from his family, out of loyalty to Bruce because of what he’d done.”

  Other than her motives, it was all true. Or at least a pretty close version of the truth. Harper felt sick.

  Miriam didn’t even know the worst of it.

  “Then when Bruce makes a mistake with a stranger who meant nothing to him, you leave him high and dry, so you can pursue Mason. But until now, Mason had nothing to do with you. He’s a good man. A Thomas.”

  She’d never, ever pursued Mason. Unless you counted moving from his bedroom to his living room that night. That she’d done.

  But she’d never gone after him. Never contacted him. Not that night. Not before it, and not after.

  She could see how Miriam might think she had, though. With the facts being presented to her as they’d been.

  How could she not have realized that Bruce had seen what she hadn’t? That her heart had always belonged to Mason?

  How awful that he’d known it.

  And he’d loved her so much, he’d married her anyway.

  “Now, with all of this, you’ve got your chance. Mason is here, talking to you. I’m begging you, Harper, please walk away. Leave him alone.”

  She couldn’t. Not completely. He was the father of her child.

  She could tell Miriam about Gwen. About the other times Bruce had found it necessary to sleep with a perp. How he used sex even when it wasn’t completely necessary. But that would only make Miriam defensive and they needed her to tell them who’d been hurting her. If she didn’t press charges, it would be much more difficult to protect her.

  Needing to find a way to reassure Miriam that neither she nor Mason had any intention of pursuing so much as a close friendship out of obligation to Bruce, Harper was searching for the right words when her phone rang.

  “It’s Bruce,” she said, glancing at the screen, and took the call.

  “Hey, babe, I’m here with Mason.” Babe? He hadn’t called her that in years until this past week. Not even when he’d been trying to get her to agree to think about giving them a second chance.

  That felt like a lifetime ago. Before she’d known Mason was the father of her child.

  “We need you to bring Miriam to meet us...” He named a place, a national park, halfway between Santa Raquel and Albina. “We’re hoping, with the two of us together, and apart from anyplace that has any emotional hold on her, she’ll tell us the truth about what’s been going on.”

  At first she wondered if he was drunk. Glancing at Miriam, who was clearly interested in finding out what Bruce was saying, she said, “Okay, when?” The last time Bruce had asked to meet with her, Mason had told her to do it.

  But taking Miriam out of the shelter? She had to speak with Mason. And couldn’t very well challenge Bruce’s statement that he and Mason were together. Not in front of Miriam, who knew Bruce was on the phone and who’d just warned her away from Mason.

  “We were thinking tomorrow morning?”

  Smiling for Miriam’s sake, she agreed to a time the next morning and rang off.

  To Miriam she said, “He’s got some free time tomorrow and wants me to meet him.”

  “And you agreed.” Miriam smiled, too, patting her hand. “You’re a good girl, Harper,” she said. “Just...stay away from Mason.”

  A warning tone had crept into those last words and Harper found it hard to believe that anyone was getting away with abusing this woman.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  IT HAD BEEN the right thing to do, letting Bruce make the call to Harper. Considering the circumstances. That didn’t mean it had been easy.

  He was relieved when, five minutes later, he saw her name show up on his caller ID. He’d just left his brother in the bar where the two had met after his session with Elmer Guthrie. On his way home, he pulled off at the next beach entrance to talk to her, sitting in his car facing the road.

  “Are you with Bruce?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “But you were with him when he just called me?”

  This was wrong. All wrong. He and Harper needing to talk to each other. Knowing it was wrong...

  But neither of them could give up their ethics to be together. That would surely doom any relationship they might be able to create. If she even wanted to try.

  “I was with him, yes.”

  “You told him Miriam’s with me at the Stand?”

  “Yes. He figured you were involved, apart from my having questioned you, based on what you do for a living. But he thought you’d probably referred her to another place, considering her, uh, ban on your presence.”

  He remembered how he’d worried that his brother had made a trip to Santa Raquel earlier in the week, his first to see his...to see Brianna, because he’d suspected Gram was at the Stand. Another false assumption.

  “So you really want me to bring Miriam to a state park in the morning?”

  “It was Bruce’s idea, but I think it’s a good one. Elmer swears he never touched her. He said he stopped over Monday night to get a cup of milk. He’d started his dinner and then realized he was out of milk. Said he was only at the house for five minutes. The flash drive says ten.”

  “Did it show him leaving with a cup of milk?”

  “Of course not. But his left side is hidden from view.”

  “So it’s possible.”

  “Technically, yes.”

  “Lying about five minutes won’t convict him of a damned thing.”

  “He was uncomfortable, Harper. I’m certain he was hiding something. But nothing I said or did swayed him even a little from his story. The only way we’re going to take care of this is to get Gram to tell us what happened. Bruce thinks that with the two of us together, we have a shot, and I agree with him completely. But we can’t do it at her place. Elmer’s hold on her will be stronger there. And we can’t do it at the Stand, either, since she’s there because of what happened. Obviously she doesn’t feel safe enough there to tell us the truth. She didn’t even tell Grace anything this morning. In a sense, we’re ganging up on her with this plan, but it really is our best shot. We sure as hell can’t bring her home and let it happen again. And she’s not going to stay at the Stand forever.”

  Gram had given him limited time. They not only needed to know what had happened, but they needed time to get official testimony and then an arrest warrant. Which could take an hour or a few days.

  “Why do you think she’ll even agree to get in a car with me?”

  “Again, Bruce pointed out that you’re an obvious choice, given your job, but since you’re being family, too, she’ll be more apt to tell us the truth if there isn’t a stranger present. Third, we both want her with a cop.”

  He wasn’t sure what Harper’s pause signified. What she was thinking. They did most of their talking with looks, not words.

  He also didn’t like his brother being so confident with Harper present, as though he knew that Harper would agree with whatever spin Bruce put on things.

  He’d deal with that later. He was making it through the day dealing with one thing at a time.

  First priority was Gram’s safety. Getting the case done.
>
  Then he’d face the life he’d built.

  “You’re all about Bruce all of a sudden.” Whatever he would’ve guessed was on her mind, that hadn’t been it.

  “I’m trying to get Gram home safely and as expediently as possible.”

  “This whole conversation...it’s been Bruce says, Bruce thinks, Bruce’s idea...”

  She had a problem with Bruce now? She was the one who’d been so certain he was a great guy, a great dad, would never hurt anyone.

  Mason pulled himself up short, thankfully with his mouth shut. He’d never felt so out of control. So...

  He didn’t know what.

  He was a father who couldn’t claim his child.

  A man in love who’d never hold his woman.

  A guy who’d betrayed his own brother.

  He needed a case that didn’t involve someone he knew. A challenging one that would result in saved lives when he succeeded. Work had always been where he’d found fulfilment. Peace.

  “I’m doing all I can to give Bruce his due,” he said now. Harper deserved as much of the truth as he could provide. “You have any idea how it feels—” He stopped himself. Of course she did. “I accused him of abusing our grandmother. He’s being really decent about what I said and did. Getting her out of the home and investigating him was the right thing. He’d have done the same with me if the situation had been reversed. But I really believed he’d done it. I’m doing what I can now to show him the respect I wasn’t able to give him earlier in the week. He’s a good cop. Has the highest closed-case ratio on the force.”

  “I know. And... I understand. I just...”

  “What?” Something was bothering her, which bothered him.

  Looking over his shoulder, as though his brother would be standing there outside the car, Mason knew he had to get a grip.

  It wasn’t every day a guy found out he was a father. He wasn’t handling it well.

  “She asked to see me this afternoon. I just left her.”

  Sitting upright, Mason tuned in, recognizing himself for the first time all day. “What did she tell you?”

  If there was any way they could avoid the somewhat manipulative meeting the next morning, he’d welcome it.

  “That Bruce told her I’d seduced you. She doesn’t blame you, but it’s why she turned on me. He told her that when he was telling her why I left.”

  “To make it look like you’d done something worse than he had.” Bruce was Bruce.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not all that eager to see him at the moment.”

  He didn’t blame her. He’d had a lifetime of living with Bruce’s insecure shadow side, and an incident like that still turned his stomach. That was partially why he’d been so ready to see his brother as the bad guy at the beginning of the week.

  “I’m sure he figured it wouldn’t make any difference to you,” he told Harper now. “You were already gone.”

  “I know. I just...”

  Again she didn’t finish. Filled with a frustration that had been building all week—caused, in part, by his inability to have a completely open conversation with her—Mason knew he had to let it go. At least for the moment. For the day. Or the week.

  “You think you can convince her to come with you in the morning?”

  “To see the two of you? I’m fairly certain I can. But... I didn’t say anything about it and don’t intend to mention it to her until morning.”

  He agreed with her decision. Told her so.

  He wanted to tell her much more. To ask how she was doing. How she felt. If she’d spent the day, as he had, thinking about the newfound connection between them. He wanted to know if she’d been with Brianna since they’d seen her together earlier.

  He wanted to hear every single word the little girl said. To know every minute that he’d missed of her life.

  To ask about her delivery. What kind of labor Harper had. If she’d been alone.

  And how old Brianna had been when she’d said her first word.

  What it was.

  He wanted to know his daughter’s favorite color. What foods she hated.

  He wanted to know everything about both of them.

  He told Harper good-night instead.

  * * *

  HARPER HAD THOUGHT she’d already lived through the worst times of her life. Put the mistakes behind her and was on the right course, living a decent life. Sunday morning proved her wrong. Delivering up an abused older woman to grandsons Harper knew were going to pressure her hadn’t been a grand or decent moment.

  She knew the decision was the right one—better that Miriam be coerced by those who loved her and were trying to protect her, than abused and perhaps eventually killed by the man who’d broken her arm more than once. But she felt like crap.

  Other than mentioning, more than once, that she should’ve brought her stuff so she could just go on home, Miriam hadn’t spoken to Harper during that hour-long drive—not even to ask about Brianna, who was at the Stand. Harper had been due on staff that day and she’d had to call in another officer for the time she’d be gone—hopefully no more than three hours.

  All of that had been...unpleasant, but standing there by a tree, while the three of them sat at a secluded picnic table yards from where they’d parked their vehicles, Harper had never felt so trapped. She’d wronged Bruce in so many ways. And Mason, by coming on to him as she had that one night. She’d wronged Miriam by wronging her grandsons. And yet she couldn’t get away from the situation. For the rest of her life.

  One of those men was the father of her child. The other thought he was. Miriam was grandmother to both of them. Great-grandmother to Harper’s daughter.

  It was like every bad moment in the past—from the first time Bruce had told her he’d been unfaithful to her to that final time when she’d told him she was divorcing him, when she’d taken Brianna and left. They were all right there, larger than ever, happening all over again.

  And...

  “We know about Elmer, Gram.” Bruce took the lead as soon as they’d all hugged and sat down. He’d also chosen to sit next to his grandmother, leaving Mason to take the seat across from them.

  Harper had tried to stay in the car, but Bruce had insisted she join them. He’d wanted her to sit with them, too, beside him on the bench. She’d drawn the line there.

  She wasn’t family. Only Brianna was. Harper’s place was on the outside looking in.

  Miriam glanced between the two of them, straight-faced, but Harper noticed that she’d started to pick at the edge of the cast in her lap. She’d worn capris again, royal blue, with a red, white and blue top and red sandals.

  She’d dressed for a day out with her boys.

  “Elmer Guthrie? Of course you know. He’s been over for dinner a few times,” she said, her tone as commanding as always. And then, looking between the two of them again, she said, “What is this? Some kind of inquisition? You’re going to try to put me away, aren’t you?”

  She turned on the bench, frowning at Harper who was leaning against a tree off to the side. “You knew about this? And you brought me here?”

  Harper stepped forward, feeling somewhat protected by the uniform she wore. She was a professional who was used to dealing with distraught women. “I know nothing of any plan to put you anywhere but back at home, living your life as you choose to live it,” she said with the strength of conviction. Happy to actually be able to speak her mind.

  The look of confusion that crossed Miriam’s face struck her hard. Something wasn’t right. The strength with which Miriam defended Bruce, insisted that she’d fallen off a ladder, talked about Elmer coming for dinner without any sign of hesitation or discomfort, climbed out a window specifically to assert her independence...

  Who did that unless she felt her independenc
e had been threatened by more than a voluntary two-week stay in a safe resort? No matter what Mason said, Miriam had known she didn’t have to stay at the Stand. The final choice had been hers. Lila wouldn’t have allowed it any other way.

  And yet...that confusion...the abuse that she wouldn’t admit to—someone had clearly made her doubt herself. “We know Elmer was over the night you got hurt, Gram,” Mason said, his tone less condescending than Bruce’s, yet more compelling, as well.

  Had Miriam fallen in love with the older man? Had he told her that if she let anyone know he’d hurt her, he’d make it look like she was crazy? Or that she couldn’t take care of herself anymore? Had Guthrie put that fear in her?

  It was how abuse worked. She’d seen it more times than she could count—the way an abuser insidiously infiltrated the brain, successful because that abuser was a trusted person with intimate access to one’s heart and mind...

  “He was over to borrow a cup of milk,” Miriam said now, leaning toward Mason. “Why are we talking about Elmer? What does his milk have to do with anything?”

  With gentle fingers Mason reached over and touched her chin. What was left of the bruising was hidden beneath her makeup, but Harper wouldn’t ever forget how Miriam had looked when they’d first brought her in.

  She knew Mason wouldn’t, either.

  “Someone grabbed your chin that night, Gram,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault—no reflection on you whatsoever—but we can’t let you go back home until we know who did this. Until we can be certain it won’t happen again.”

  “You said you were going to figure it out,” she challenged him, a vision of her former self. “You’ve had a week, and that’s all you’ve come up with? A neighbor borrowing a cup of milk?”

  Mason continued to watch her, his face showing only love and concern. Harper’s view of Bruce was partially blocked by Miriam, so she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She watched Mason instead.

  “For the hundredth time, I’m telling you I fell off a stepladder!” Miriam insisted. “I figured you’d get there on your own.”

  “We know Elmer did this to you, Gram.” Bruce spoke again, his tone lacking Mason’s compassion, replacing it with that condescending tone he had when he was having difficulty getting his point across. Still, she could hear the love he had for his grandmother. “He’s been visiting you when I’m at work...”