by Beth Wiseman
“Well, I knew I had some bad spots on the roof and that I needed to replace some shingles. When I first looked at the house, the realtor said there was recent hail damage.”
“Yeah, I think I remember that storm. Huge hailstones. Hope they gave you some allowance for the price.”
He nodded. “But the thing is, I haven’t gotten around to replacing it. Everything’s been okay with the few showers we’ve had, but this storm had me worried, so I tried to temporarily patch it with some new shingles.”
He thanked her for the sandwich when she pushed it in front of him. “Anyway, the patches didn’t hold, and I had water pouring into the attic—lots of water. So now the second-floor ceiling is pretty messed up too.” He took a bite of the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the world. “This is the most awesome sandwich I’ve ever had.”
Brooke burst out laughing, then covered her mouth. “Sorry. I’m not laughing about the roof. I’ve just never seen anyone get so excited about a PBJ before.”
Owen took another big bite, savoring the flavor, and made a mental note to stock his pantry with plenty of peanut butter. He finished the sandwich and dabbed his mouth with a napkin Brooke had laid out.
“Want another one?” She grinned from where she was sitting next to him.
“Yes, please.”
Brooke set to work, and Owen went on with his story. “Anyway, luckily I had hired this kid last week to work with me on the house, and he was there helping me. One of us had to open the window while the other one dumped containers of water. We did that for a long time.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I would have done if Hunter hadn’t been there.”
Brooke froze with a spoon in the jelly jar. “Hunter?”
“Yeah, local kid who needed work.” Owen waited for her to finish his sandwich, but she actually pulled the spoon out and put it down.
“Please tell me you don’t have Hunter Lewis helping you with your house.”
“I know he’s known as a troublemaker around here, but I think he’s a good kid. He just needs a break, and—”
“A good kid?” She chuckled, but not in the amused sort of way. “I can assure you Hunter Lewis is not a good kid.”
Owen stared at the unfinished sandwich, then looked back at her, hoping she’d get the hint and go back to the task at hand. “His parents are trouble, and I don’t think his grandma has much of a handle on things either. But he’s a great worker. Everyone needs a little help now and then.” Owen shrugged. Please make my sandwich.
Brooke stood up from the table and starting pacing. Owen decided he wasn’t going to get that second sandwich. Then she put her hands on her hips and pressed her lips together for a few seconds.
“Well, I’ll tell you what. I could have used a little help when Hunter Lewis put a gun in my face a couple of years ago.” She blinked her eyes a few times, her face red, and Owen lost all interest in food.
Then his cell phone rang again. And hers rang too.
Brooke waved good-bye to Owen as she punched her mother’s autodial number. She shook her head as the phone rang, telling herself to stay calm.
“Mom.” Brooke paced the kitchen, a hand on her forehead. “Mrs. Doyle at the Oaks called.”
Silence for a few moments. “I figured she would.”
“She said you are moving out.” Brooke circled the kitchen table, popping each chair with her hand as she went around. “Actually, you are being kicked out. A grown woman. And you are being kicked out because you have a man living in your apartment.”
“That man is my husband. And he doesn’t exactly live here. He’s just . . . here. Most of the time, anyway.”
Brooke stopped, pulled out a chair, and sat down at the table. “Well, you are only paying for single occupancy. That’s why they are tossing you out.”
“I know, dear. We tried to upgrade to a double-occupancy apartment, but they don’t have any, and the waiting list is a mile long. So I’m moving in with your father at his place right outside of town.”
Brooke didn’t think she’d ever had high blood pressure—until now. Her head was splitting, her heart pumping. She was still upset about her mother not letting her father return home all those years ago and never telling her, but at least that made some sense to her. What didn’t make sense was Mom letting him back in their lives now. “Mom, just come home. Come back here with me and the kids.”
“My home is where your father is.”
“You haven’t even seen the kids. They miss you. How can you do this to them?”
“I will come and see them soon, I promise. If you would just talk to your father—”
“Quit calling him my father!” Brooke squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for her mother’s response.
“If you’re going to yell at me, I’m going to hang up.”
Brooke beat her to it.
Patsy stared at the phone for a short while, then frowned. “Well, that went well.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose and sat down on the couch by her husband. “It’s a bad time for this to happen—right after the storm. Brooke has a hard time with storms.”
“I remember.” Harold held her hand and sighed. “I can’t have this, Patsy. I can’t live with this tension between you and Brooke. And you hardly see the grandkids. I think this is a mistake.”
Patsy swallowed back tears in her throat. “Don’t you say that, Harold Miller. I plan to spend every minute I can with you. There will be plenty of time for me to be with Brooke and the children, but this time is ours. Do you hear me?”
“You truly are the only woman I’ve ever loved. And I ruined our lives.” He paused, blinking a few times. “And yet here you are.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Harold eased her away. “Under different circumstances, I think we would have remained estranged.”
“I should have forgiven you twenty years ago. Then we would still be a family.” She looked up at him. “I’ve always loved you. And, despite everything, I’ve always known that you love me. I have to accept my role in all of this too.” She patted him on the leg. “Now, I’m going to finish packing. You rest.”
Patsy walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Covering her face with her hands, she let the tears spill. She missed Brooke, Meghan, and Spencer so much she could hardly stand it. But she didn’t have much time left with Harold.
Nineteen
Brooke was surprised when Owen showed up at the store Saturday afternoon. She had reacted rather harshly about his hiring Hunter, and she knew she should have told him the entire story, but he’d gotten a phone call from his uncle and said he needed to leave before she’d had a chance to explain fully.
“Hey.” He strolled up to the counter in his work overalls and white T-shirt. “I need to hire a roofer. That’s one job I can’t do myself.”
Brooke pulled a card from a stack on the counter. “This guy did my house. He’s good—and reasonable.”
Owen studied the card for a moment, then flipped it between his fingers a few times. “Sorry I had to leave so abruptly yesterday.”
“Everything okay?” She sat down on the stool behind the counter and pushed back the rim of her baseball cap.
“Yeah.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “My uncle is coming to stay with me. He’ll be here later this week. He was trying to tell me his travel plans, but my cell service was going in and out.”
Brooke sat up a little straighter. “How long is he staying?”
“I’m not sure. He’s a bit eccentric.” Owen chuckled. “He’s my father’s brother. He travels the world, and then he’ll stop for a while to rest and work on his memoirs. Sometimes he stays with my parents in Florida, and sometimes he stays with friends. But this is a first—staying with me.” Owen smirked. “Truthfully, I don’t think he cared for Virginia too much—imagine that! Anyway, I’ve got plenty of room, so when I heard he was coming this way, I invited him.” He pu
lled his hands from his pockets and scratched his forehead. “Maybe he’ll help with the house.” He paused. “Although I had planned for this project to keep me busy for a long time. If we finish, then what will I do?”
“Listen.” She pulled her eyes from his and stacked some papers on the counter as she spoke. “I need to finish telling you about Hunter.”
Owen sighed. “I probably heard enough.”
“It wasn’t a real gun, just a water pistol with a bag over it.” Brooke searched his face, and when Owen’s eyes met hers, she saw relief in his expression.
“A water gun?” He shook his head. “I guess that’s good. Better than the real thing.”
“Well, I’m sure you understand that I don’t want my children around Hunter.”
Owen was quiet for a while. “Everyone deserves another chance. At the heart of Hunter, I see something good. I just want him to have a fair shake.”
“I agree that everyone deserves another chance, but that vision of Hunter wearing a ski mask and pointing what I believed to be a real gun in my face—that doesn’t just go away. He scares me, Owen.”
“I can understand that.” He didn’t say any more, just looked at her.
Brooke waited, wishing he’d never hired Hunter. She’d done her best the past couple of years to stay away from him. She knew his situation at home, and she and Travis had tried to help him, to include him in family outings. But Hunter had turned on them just the same. “Just don’t be surprised if your attempt at giving him a second chance backfires. He’s . . .”
She let her voice trail off as she realized Owen was staring at her. His gaze roamed boldly downward, then back up again, until his eyes were locked with hers. He took a step closer. “I’ve decided I really believe in second chances.”
Brooke swallowed, suddenly self-conscious, and acutely aware of Owen’s seductive tone. What’s happening?
Owen leaned over, cupped her cheeks, and pressed his lips against hers, gently covering her mouth. It was so random, so unexpected. At first, she tried to pull away, but his lips were persuasive, and his touch sent the pit of her stomach into such a wild swirl that she let out a small moan. When he pulled away, she felt like the breath had been knocked out of her.
“Now”—he smiled—“I have to go call the roofer.” He gave her a playful salute. “Have a great day, Brooke Holloway.”
“You too,” she managed to mumble as he turned to leave. Once he was out of sight, she put a finger to her lips. Am I falling for my new friend?
And even more surprising . . . Is he falling for me?
Owen had wanted that kiss as much as he’d wanted anything. His favorite place to be these days was around Brooke, but his bold move had gone against everything they’d discussed. He’d only known her a month, and already he felt like his heart was climbing up a ladder and onto a chopping block. She was the kind of woman he could fall in love with. But could I ever trust another woman?
He’d done exactly what he said he wouldn’t do—led her on. Or had he? Maybe she didn’t have any feelings for him at all, so it really couldn’t be called leading her on. His thoughts and feelings were jumbled, and he began to question if he really did believe in second chances—for himself.
He spent the rest of the weekend working on the house, and on Monday he scheduled a new roof to be put on the following week. He didn’t hear from Brooke, and he didn’t call her.
But she was on his mind constantly.
Tuesday morning Owen and Hunter were ripping out kitchen cabinets when he decided to ask the boy about Brooke.
“So, what happened at Miller’s Hardware a couple of years ago?” Owen dragged one of the disassembled cabinets across the kitchen floor and piled it with two others.
Hunter was using an electric screwdriver to pull screws from one of the cabinets. He paused for a moment, then went back to work and didn’t look up. “She your girlfriend?”
“Just a friend.” Owen grabbed a rag from his pocket and wiped his face. “She said you held her up at gunpoint.”
Hunter stood up, the screwdriver hanging by his side. “I did not!”
Owen cocked his head to one side. “Really? So she lied?”
Hunter yanked the cabinet he’d been working on free from the wall and pushed it across the floor. “It ain’t like you think.”
Owen waited, but Hunter didn’t offer anything else. “Then how is it?” he finally asked.
Hunter pushed back his red hair and stood up. “It was a water gun with a paper bag over it. I woulda never hurt Mrs. Holloway, no matter what. She and her husband was always nice to me.”
Hunter went back to work on the cabinets. Owen just stood there, dumbfounded. “So you chose to rob people who had always been nice to you?”
“I done told you. I’m trash.” Hunter pulled out the screw he’d just loosened and tossed it onto the floor.
“I’m just trying to understand.” Owen suspected he already knew the motivations behind the crime.
Hunter whirled out another screw. “I needed money, okay? And I seen her load that register with cash before.” He pointed the hammer at Owen. “But I woulda never hurt her. Not ever.”
Owen grunted. “Hunter, I can imagine who you were probably getting the money for, but can you understand the fear you put her through?”
“I think about it every day.”
Owen decided to let the subject drop. Hunter had probably punished himself enough.
“I’ve got a little bit of furniture being delivered later today. My Uncle Denny is coming to stay with me for a while.” Owen opened the door that led to the backyard and dragged some of the cabinet debris out back. When he returned, Hunter was prying the last cabinet from the wall.
“He gonna be helping you now on the house, instead of me?” Hunter wiped his hands on his overalls before giving the cabinet a final tug.
“I’m hoping he’ll help. We can use it, don’t you think?” Owen paused, but Hunter didn’t say anything. “Hunter, you do a good job. I’m not firing you. And your raise will be on your paycheck Friday, just like we talked about.”
The kid’s face lit up. “Thanks, Owen.”
By the end of the day, they’d completely cleared the kitchen of the old cabinets, and Milton’s Furniture had delivered some bedroom furniture for upstairs. The large room at the end of the hallway would be Uncle Denny’s, so Owen had bought a bed, dresser, two bedside tables, and an armoire. While he was at it, he’d ordered himself a dresser and two tables, a couch for the living room, and a coffee table. It wasn’t much, considering the size of the house, but it would make the place a little more livable.
He’d thought about Brooke while he was picking it out, wishing she was there to help him. But every time he considered the possibility of a relationship with her, he thought about Virginia.
Wednesday morning Hunter stood before Judge Landreth. He’d worn his best blue jeans and a new blue short-sleeved shirt, and he’d bought himself some new tennis shoes. Grandma had needed extra money for her medicines and to have someone fix the air conditioner—and he’d found two new bottles of vodka—but it was the first time in Hunter’s life he could remember having some money in his pocket. He’d gotten a haircut too.
It was also the first time anyone had ever appeared with him in court.
“With all due respect, Your Honor”—Owen held up a pile of papers as he stood beside Hunter in front of the judge—“there isn’t any evidence that Hunter is the one who broke into that store. Just because he was running near the scene doesn’t make him guilty. You’ve already got one witness who said it wasn’t Hunter she saw. So how can you press charges against him?”
Hunter had never had anyone go to bat for him. And lots of times, he had to admit, he hadn’t deserved help. But Owen had believed him when he said he just ran when he saw the broken glass and heard the sirens. Owen had said, “I don’t just believe you. I believe in you.” Hunter had never wanted to be a better person more in his life than he did now
. For Owen Saunders.
“Mr. Lewis has a history in Smithville, Mr. Saunders, and I know you are new to the area, but we have reason to believe that Mr. Lewis is involved in this crime as well.”
Judge Landreth was an old man with gray hair and lots of wrinkles. He took off his glasses. “I believe you are the one who captured him and brought him in.”
Owen took a step forward. “Well, I turned him over to the police. But I’ve read the case file, and I am prepared to hire an attorney for Hunter to fight this. There’s no evidence to support this case.”
Hunter couldn’t believe it. Again, he wondered why he couldn’t have had a father like Owen.
About ten minutes later, he and Owen left the courtroom, and all charges had been dropped.
“I ain’t never seen nothing like that.” Hunter couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.
“Well, the whole thing was bogus. They were just taking advantage of you because you didn’t have legal representation.” Owen kept walking past his car, and Hunter followed.
“Where we going?”
“I need to make a stop up here in town, and it’s close enough to walk.”
Hunter felt on top of the world. Until Owen slowed down at Miller’s Hardware.
“I can’t go in there.” He stopped outside the glass windows and saw Mrs. Holloway sitting at the counter with her son.
Owen kept going, reached for the door, then turned around before he pulled it open. “Yes, you can. Come on.”
Hunter started to feel like someone was choking him. That medicine he’d gotten helped him most of the time, but he wasn’t sure anything was going to help him with this. He could still remember the scared look on Mrs. Holloway’s face. And the way his father had punched him in the gut and told him to do it, to rob the place and bring back some money. He’d woken up lots of nights in a cold sweat thinking about what he’d put Mrs. Holloway through. No way he could face her. He’d avoided her all over town for almost two years.
