All My Heart (The Clover Series)

by Stewart, Danielle

  “It’s incredible, Jordan. Life moves so quickly. You two have something special. Hang on to it. Go where it takes you.”

  “Thanks.” Jordan nods as she hands me the earrings Devin has picked out to match this dress. “Are you happy with all your surprises?”

  “I was dreading all the planning for the wedding, this is perfect. It’s just . . .” I hesitate, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

  “It’s not bitching if I asked you. What’s the matter?”

  “I think every little girl dreams about her wedding and that moment when your father walks you down the aisle. It’s like crossing over into a new life. I know my father isn’t ever going to be that man.”

  “He isn’t. Devin called him. Told him about the wedding and your father told him to go to hell. But,” Jordan says as she applies one more round of hair spray to her hair and mine, “he did give us your art work. That’s something.”

  “You’re right. I thought he’d thrown it all away.”

  “Can I ask you something, Rebecca?”

  “Sure.”

  “What happened to your father? Was he always this way?” I’ve picked up a little of Jordan’s background from conversations we’ve had, and I know she’s lost her father. I also know she has not quite come to terms with how she was raised. I feel like her question has as much to do with her own history as it has with understanding mine.

  “He wasn’t always that way. I mean he was naturally a little aloof when it came to me, but losing my mother really broke him in a way I couldn’t understand at the time. He started treating me worse and worse as the years went on, no matter how hard I worked to take care of my brothers. I didn’t get it. The more I tried to please him, the more he seemed to hate me. So I gave up. Once my brothers were on the path to success, I started screwing up. Not on purpose. I just dated the wrong people, looked for all the wrong things.”

  “Why, though? It doesn’t make sense he would punish you and be mean to you when you were doing so much to help him and your brothers.”

  “I only got insight into it once, and I was never brave enough to push the issue again. He was drinking one night, the anniversary of my mother’s death, and he was clearly feeling emotional. He slipped and told me the reason he was so hard on me was I reminded him of her every day. I was like a punishment to him. He hadn’t been able to save my mother. He failed her, and looking at me was like putting salt in his wounds. He didn’t know what I needed or how to take care of me, that was her job. I was just another thing he was screwing up. Another failure. He wanted my mother back, and he’d trade me for her in a heartbeat if the fates would allow it. I think he was just heartbroken . . . and an alcoholic. I’ve tried to find a deeper reason, a bigger meaning, but I don’t know that there is one. Some people just lean into the hurt rather than try to fight their way back to happy. That’s my daddy, he doesn’t try to shelter himself from the storm, he walks straight into it and takes the beating life gives.”

  “You’re more forgiving than I would be. Don’t you ever want to lose it on him? Tell him how ridiculous it is to live like that and treat you like crap? You deserve better than that.”

  “I do,” I say confidently, drawing Jordan’s confused eyes toward me. “And I intend to have better. Much better, but it doesn’t have to come from him. Someone could love you the best they can, but that still might not be enough. Some people just love you wrong.”

  “You are amazing, Rebecca. You’ve had this crazy life and it would be perfectly acceptable for you to just lose it on people, but you don’t. Maybe this isn’t the time or place, but I can’t get something else out of my head. Your blood was at the scene in Brent’s house. Or at least that’s what the medical examiner wrote. I know you didn’t kill him, but I spent so much time staring at that book and never got the answer. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I completely understand.”

  I hang my head, a guilt and shame that I carry with me every day reading on my face. “I don’t know what makes a person a magnet for abuse, but I was one of those people. I think it’s equal parts bad choices and bad luck. Brent was the first in a line of people I let treat me like garbage. I’d imagine my blood was in his room from either the time he split my lip or gave me a bloody nose. I know now what drove him was rooted in his father’s torture and the steroids in his body at such a young age. That makes me feel a little better. But I never told Devin what Brent had done to me and he doesn’t know the extent that rage boiled over on me. I don’t think it would help anything for him to know.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m sorry you’ve been through those things. I can’t imagine.”

  “And you’ll never have to. With Click by your side you’ll never go through what I did. I’ll never go through it again either.”

  Another quiet knock at the door grabs our attention. “I wouldn’t worry too much about who’s walking you down the aisle. Devin thought of every detail. I think you’ll be happy.” With a huge grin on her face, Jordan opens the door and steps out of the way. Standing in the doorway are my two brothers.

  “Nate,” I cry, pulling him in for a hug, “Cole. What are you two doing here? You should be in school. You should be working. You can’t afford to come back here.”

  “We can when someone pays our tuition for the rest of the year. That’s a generous man you’re marrying,” Nate says as he lets me go and straightens the bow tie on his tux. “Why didn’t you tell us what was going on here? Hoyle? Jail? If we knew what you were going through, we’d have come back.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You guys have such bright futures. I didn’t want you to give that up.”

  “You look like you have a pretty bright future yourself,” Cole says as he extends his arm to loop mine in. “We’re going to walk you down the aisle.”

  “I told you he thought of everything,” Jordan jests as she adjusts the bottom of my dress for me.

  “Jordan, will you stand up with me?” I ask, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’d love to have you up there with me.”

  “Of course,” she says, looking slightly taken aback. “Shoot, I should have skipped the mascara today.” She blinks back the tears and waves her hands at her eyes.

  As we head down the stairs and toward the back door I see glimpses of what waits for me out there. My daughter is standing at the head of a white paper aisle with a tiny basket in her hand. Nick’s two boys are in little tuxedos, both of them holding pillows for the rings. I see Devin looking particularly nervous as he tries to loosen the collar of his shirt slightly below his bow tie. He looks so handsome; I can’t wait to be in his arms.

  Jordan sneaks out in front of me and I see her waving around, signaling that I’m coming. I take in a deep breath as the door opens and I get ready to take the first step toward the rest of my life.

  Chapter Thirty

  Devin

  What do you call it when the most beautiful woman in the world gets dressed up and looks better than you’ve ever seen her look? Is there a word for that moment, when something you didn’t think could get any better does? Nothing has ever genuinely stolen my breath the way looking at Rebecca in a wedding dress just has. Her hair is pinned up. Her makeup is flawless, her skin aglow, and her entire face is smiling. Adeline is waving her hand frantically at her and going far off script as she starts throwing the flower petals left in her basket all over the place in anxious celebration.

  Every step my future wife takes toward me, the more I know I’m exactly where I am meant to be. When she’s close enough for me to touch I shake both of her brothers’ hands and then take her into my arms.

  The pastor is talking, I know he is, but I’m too lost in Rebecca’s eyes to understand his words. It’s not until she’s looking at me expectantly that I realize I should be saying something. “Your vows?” the pastor asks, letting me know it was not the first time he asked.

  I clear my throat and realize my mou
th has gone dry. This is like sitting in the back of chemistry class all over again. It’s like watching her walking toward me in the high school hallway, and I realize this is the gift she gives me. The ability to transport my heart back through time to what new love feels like. I try to remember the vows I’ve practiced over and over again. “Rebecca,” I take her hands in mine, “if anyone is going to make an argument for the belief in soul mates, let us be the example. If we can navigate everything that’s been put in front of us and still find our way to this moment, we must be connected to each other in a way that nothing on this earth can explain. I knew the instant I met you that my life wouldn’t be complete until I woke up next to you every morning and you fell asleep in my arms every night. That is my truth. My inexplicable, unavoidable reality. I have tried to heal my heart with money, with power, with isolation and none of that worked. But you knew all I need is to love and be loved, and you didn’t stop until I realized that myself. I promise to be the man you deserve every single day. I promise to be an example for Adeline, someone she can be proud of. I will try to never disappoint you again.” I choke back my emotions as I look down at a painfully bored Adeline who’s now searching for four leaf clovers beneath her shoes.

  “Devin,” Rebecca says quietly as she looks into my eyes. She hasn’t had the time I have had to rehearse her vows but she’s far more poetic than I am. “Thank you for doing all of this. Every surprise, every thoughtful detail is a testament to your amazing heart. I know it took longer than we both imagined getting here, but here we are. A small part of me always believed I’d be standing in this very moment with you. I held on to that hope through my darkest days. This dream always guided me home. You’ve always been something for me to hold onto and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life doing just that.”

  I lean in and kiss her, forgetting there is more for us to do. I can’t help myself. We break away from each other at the sound of snickering laughter rolling through our small audience.

  When the pastor finishes the ceremony I know there is still one more part of this day that I can’t wait to share with Rebecca.

  “Everyone,” I say, grabbing the attention of the small group, “it’s time to head to the reception. You all know where it is. Rebecca and I will be there. We’ll see you all in a little while.”

  I can see Rebecca looking uncertain. “I’m the only one who doesn’t know the plan,” she says as we hop into my car and start to drive.

  “There were so many wonderful things in your letters that I wish I could have given to you. So many dreams I wanted to make come true.”

  “You’ve done enough, Devin. So much more than I expected. And to help my brothers with school, give them a chance at a future, you have no idea what that means to me. They can have careers now instead of menial jobs where they have to work themselves to the bone.”

  “And you can, too,” I say as I navigate toward the final surprise. “I have a feeling your art studio in the house is going to help you produce some masterpieces. You’re going to need a place to sell them.” I pull up to a building on Main Street that I’ve bought and had refurbished for her.

  “You didn’t?” she exclaims, looking at the sign above the door that reads Rebecca Sutton Gallery.

  “The sign would have sucked if you hadn’t agreed to marry me today. Now you have a place to sell your art. To have shows, do whatever you like. I have some people in New York who are already interested.”

  “I want to teach here,” she says, stepping out of my car and lifting the bottom of her dress so it doesn’t drag on the ground. “I want to have people come in here and teach them about art. There was never anywhere for me to learn; I want to do that for people.”

  “That’s a great idea. Today though, it’s going to be where everyone gathers and helps celebrate our wedding. I have it set up with some of your paintings and tables of food for us.”

  When I turn the key in the lock and let her in I am as surprised as she is how it’s turned out. The droplights are all covered with painted blown glass. Sleek and sophisticated painted tiles line the walls. It looks like something out of the trendiest neighborhood in New York.

  “I love it,” she exclaims as she does a small spin around the room. “All of this, everything you’ve done, it’s amazing. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. You’ve turned my every dream into a reality. How will I ever thank you?”

  “Stay with me forever. When I’m an idiot, forgive me.”

  “Deal,” she agrees, racing toward my arms and pressing her lips to mine.

  I pull slightly away from her, keeping my arms tight around her waist. “Rebecca, we have our future. It’s finally here. We had to wait a little longer than I thought, but I’m glad we finally have what we always wanted.”

  “I feel like I’m seeing the beautifully guarded but loving boy I fell in love with. It was so easy to love him, so obvious why I’d fallen for him. I never gave up believing you’d come save me.”

  “Not even close, Rebecca. You’ve saved me.”

  Facing Home Sneak Peek

  A Clover Series Novella

  Jordan

  I thought I was prepared. I’d spent the entire car ride from Clover, North Carolina to Sturbridge, Tennessee memorizing names and trying to remember which children belonged to which of Click’s sisters. I tried to brace myself for the warnings Click had given. Everyone might sound like they’re yelling, but really that’s just how they talk. So I’ve tried to desensitize myself, turn off my volume control. If my mother offers you food, take it. There is no amount of turning her down that will work. I’ve planned to just gain five pounds. I can hit the gym hard when this is sorted out.

  As we pass a sign for Sturbridge I realize there is no turning back. I’m committed now. Whatever is waiting here for Click we’ll face together. But I’m still scared. I slip my pinky over the latch of the car door and contemplate opening it. Could I hit the ground running and hope that Click just keeps driving? Probably not. He’s too much of a gentleman for that. He’d feel obligated to stop and pick me up.

  “You look nervous,” Click says, patting my thigh gently. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t they’ll be happy enough to see me that they’ll probably leave you alone.”

  “I don’t make a great first impression.” I clear my throat as I flip down the mirror on the visor for the hundredth time and check to make sure I have nothing between my teeth. “I tend to come off as a little . . .” I pause not knowing the right word.

  “I know you do,” Click says, knowing there might not be a good adjective to describe me. He flips the mirror closed and smiles. “But they’re the same way. It doesn’t matter what you look like, so stop worrying. They don’t judge people based on their appearance.”

  “That’s good to know,” I say, nodding my head, trying to convince myself.

  “They judge people on how much you eat, how well you cook, and how many Sinatra songs you know. We’ve always stuck out here like a sore thumb. A couple of Italians right off the boat, showing up in a small town like Sturbridge made it hard to fit in. Everyone kept saying, just give them time. Before you know it the Coglinases will be adapting to life here in Tennessee, and do you know what happened?”

  “You acclimated and everything worked out?”

  “No, my parents turned our neighborhood into Little Italy in a take-no-prisoners push of their ideals and traditions. My family doesn’t melt into their surroundings; they force the backdrops of this world to change in order to fit them.”

  “Why isn’t this making me feel any better?”

  “Oh come on, big bad Jordan isn’t afraid of anything. She’s a tiger.”

  “Yes, at work I am, but that’s because I don’t care what people think of me. This is different. Very different.”

  “Why do you care what they think of you?”

  “Because they are your family and I’m planning to be around you for a while. If you’re lucky, that is, and that means I’ll
be around them.”

  “I don’t plan on staying here. I’m going to help out whichever one of my sisters is in trouble and then move on to somewhere else. I don’t belong back here.”

  “They’re your family. Like ‘a ton of kids, big dinners every Sunday’ family. How can you already decide you don’t want that in your life anymore?”

  “Do you know why I was home a total of twenty-six hours before I took off? I can’t be who they want me to be. I’m not happy about that, I feel bad, but it’s reality. They’re all remembering the kid who left and they aren’t comfortable with the stranger who’s come home.”

  “You didn’t give them much time to get comfortable with it. They miss you. I’m sure they just need time to adjust, and so do you.”

  “Adjust to what?” Click asks, and I see his grip on the steering wheel tighten somewhat. “You don’t flip this stuff off like a switch. I’m programmed. Something happens, I react. A loud noise, I’m tackling you to the ground to protect you. I’m always on. That’s why Clover worked for me. I needed to be this guy,” he says, slapping his hand to his chest. “None of that exists in Tennessee. No one needs me to use the skills I have or exist in the mindset I live in.”

  “That should be nice; you should be able to relax.” I reach my hand across to touch him, but I can sense his tension and slight recoil. I’m saying the wrong thing; I know I am, but I don’t know why.

  “It’s not like I can go put my ass in a hammock and daydream the days away. My mind isn’t really some calm oasis right now.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, seeing his stress level grow higher than I’ve seen it before. I find it so odd, the idea of going home to be with his family makes him more on edge than anything we encountered in Clover, including gunfire and danger.

  “Nothing. It’s complicated. All I’m saying is I do better when I’m challenged, when I put into action all the things I’ve learned. My mother has always been overbearing and she can’t understand why I don’t pour my heart out to her about what it was like over there. She wants to know everything, she wants to help me work through stuff, but all it does is drive me crazy. It’s like the Spanish inquisition every time I talk to her. My dad is the opposite. Completely silent, acts like I was at summer camp instead of in a war zone, which I prefer over my mother’s approach, but still he acts like I’m a grenade with the pin pulled out and doesn’t want to be too close.”