When You Got a Good Thing

by Kait Nolan

  “If you loved him so much, why did you leave?”

  Should’ve known she wouldn’t be satisfied with only part of the story. Dragging her brush along the last section of trim, Kennedy tried to decide what to tell her. It would be easy to blame Buck. And certainly he’d been the primary reason. But what she’d told Xander about feeling unworthy of the family hadn’t been a lie. If she hadn’t felt that, hadn’t been so terrified of being thrown away, she wouldn’t have been so susceptible to his father’s emotional blackmail. And given Ari’s tenuous position in the family, it was the part Kennedy most wanted to share.

  “A lot of complicated reasons. Some of which I’m just not going to get into. But some of it was that I was really messed up. My parents threw me away. I could make excuses for them, but in the end, that was the reality. Joan wasn’t my first foster placement. I went through several before I ended up here, and I saw plenty of turnover in the system of other foster kids hitting eighteen and just getting dumped. Even after I came here, even after Mom adopted me, that stuck with me. And there was a part of me that never really felt like I belonged. A part that expected that I’d be booted out when I hit eighteen. So I was determined to go before anybody else had a chance to throw me away.” Before anyone could give Joan reason to.

  She set her brush aside and pivoted to face Ari. The girl was frowning hard, a line marring the skin between her brows.

  “I was wrong. It took me a long time to accept that. I was always a part of this family and nothing I ever did or said could ever have changed that. I say all this because you remind me so much of me. I know you’re worried about what’s going to happen to you. I know we don’t have the same legal protections we’d have if the adoption had gone through before Mom died. But whatever the hell it says on paper, you are part of this family. If you learned nothing else from your time with Joan, you should have learned that the family you make is a helluva lot stronger than the one you’re born into. You’re ours, and all of us are going to fight for you.”

  Ari swiped an arm over glimmering eyes. “I’ve never met anybody like y’all.”

  “Fellow misfits, one and all.” She wrapped her arms around the younger girl. “Now come on and help me finish this trim so we can go pick out lamps and accessories.”

  ~*~

  “Careful, careful. Don’t let it touch the wall. The trim isn’t quite dry yet.” Under normal circumstances, Kennedy would have waited until tomorrow, but there simply wasn’t time. She bit her lip as Xander muscled the bed back another few inches. “There! That’s it!” She clapped her hands and did a little happy dance, complete with a hip bump for Ari.

  The corner of Xander’s mouth turned up at that. “Anything else?”

  He was trying to cover up his mood, but Kennedy knew him and knew that he was struggling with whatever had happened with his father.

  “It still needs to be dressed and staged, but I so don’t have time to do all that before I go to work.” She wished she were off work entirely for the night so she could finish and so they could finally talk about his dad and about the email she’d gotten from Elena this afternoon about the book proposal. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. She was grateful Denver had given her as much time as he had.

  Xander looked around at the rearranged furniture, the freshly painted walls and trim. “I can’t believe you got all this done today.”

  “I helped!” Ari announced.

  “You did, indeed.” Kennedy had enjoyed the hell out of spending time with the girl. “And you can help some more by running down to my room and hauling up the bedding I’ve got stashed there. Then it will be here and ready to go in the morning, and I don’t have to worry about sneaking it past anybody to maintain the surprise.”

  “I can make the bed. Then you don’t have to.”

  Oh, this kid. She’d embraced the idea and run with it, displaying a level of enthusiasm only teenagers could manage. Kennedy reached out to squeeze Ari’s shoulder. “That’d be awesome.

  “Okay. I’ll walk really loud when I come back, so you’ll know when to stop making out.”

  Xander choked on a half laugh as she left the room. “We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?”

  Given all the questions she’d asked about them today, Kennedy was banking on that being the literal truth. “She’s at an age where kissing is fascinating.”

  He scowled. “So long as she’s just thinking and not doing.”

  Kennedy looped her arms behind his neck and grinned up at him. “Are you going all protective big brother?”

  “Someone has to.”

  “That’s adorable.”

  “That’s practical. I used to be a thirteen year old boy. They’re more fascinated with boobs. Maybe I should teach her some self-defense.”

  “Never a bad thing,” Kennedy agreed. “Though I am reasonably sure she thinks the boys her age are morons.”

  “The ones older than her are even worse. Self-defense,” he decided. “I’ll find some time to squeeze it in.”

  “You’re so cute.” She rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  She meant it as a quick peck, but Xander wrapped his arms around her, fitting her body against his. He didn’t devour her, though she could feel the edge of that temptation simmering between them. He seemed to be searching out some sweetness. So she pushed thoughts of Buck, of the inn, of the book from her mind and poured every ounce of comfort she could into the kiss.

  The sound of the door opening had Xander reluctantly lifting his head. “I thought you were gonna walk loud,” he complained.

  “When have I ever walked loud?”

  Kennedy went rigid. No!

  Maggie stood framed in the doorway, a tired smile on her face. “So that’s on again, is it? Glad to see some good news.”

  Behind her Ari mimed Sorry!

  Kennedy disentangled herself, mind already spinning in search of an explanation for the room. “We weren’t expecting you until the morning.”

  “I caught an earlier flight.” Maggie shoved the door open wider. The moment she stepped inside, her face went pale. “What have you done?”

  Kennedy’s nerves went taut at the immediate tone of disapproval. “I’m not finished yet. I wanted to have everything set up before I showed you.” This was all wrong. Incomplete. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to present the concept to her sister.

  Xander gave her a supportive squeeze.

  Maggie turned a circle, taking in the freshly painted walls and trim. “You’ve destroyed it.”

  Irritation or exasperation she’d expected. But this kind of accusation left her stunned and confused. “I…what? It’s just paint. I was freshening everything up. I know the gray isn’t the warmest tone, but once you see it with the bedding, you’ll get the full effect.”

  Maggie looked like she was ready to vomit. One arm wrapped across her middle, the other hand covered her mouth.

  Kennedy rushed on, trying to find some way to salvage this train wreck. “If you hate the color that much, we can paint again. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal,” Maggie repeated, voice trembling. “Oh you have no idea how big a deal this is.”

  This was bad. So. Very. Bad.

  Pru appeared in the doorway. “Look who showed up early!” Her cheerful smile faded as she registered the tension. “What’s going on?” She came into the room and saw for herself. “Oh. Oh dear.”

  “How could you do this?” Maggie demanded.

  Okay maybe Kennedy hadn’t expected a double pompom yay reaction to her makeover, but she certainly hadn’t expected this. “Do what? I deliberately picked one of the rooms that wasn’t the family space.”

  Xander’s phone rang, slicing through the tension before he reached into his pocket to silence it. “Why don’t we all take this down a few notches?”

  Maggie ignored him, her hands curling into fists. “Not the family space? Have you been gone so long that you’ve forgotten how we define family here? Thi
s was Lauren’s room. Susan’s. Porter’s. Alex’s. They were all family.”

  What the hell was this about? “I never said they weren’t. But no one’s been up here in ages. I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong.”

  “Of course you don’t. Because you didn’t ask. You didn’t discuss it with anybody. You just did it. You’re always just doing what you want without taking anybody else into account. You haven’t been here in years, so how could you possibly make a decision like this without consulting us?” Maggie’s voice had risen to a shout.

  “Now hold on a damn minute!”

  Kennedy shot out a hand as Xander started to step in front of her. She’d done this, whatever it was. She’d face it herself. But most of the blood had drained out of her face, and she was shaky and cold. None of this was going how she’d planned. “I was just trying to help.” She hated that her voice came out small, almost childlike.

  “Help? How does this help anything?” Maggie demanded.

  “I was working on an idea that could save the house without the trust.”

  Maggie threw up her hands and turned an angry circle, glaring at the walls as if she could incinerate the changes with a look. “Really, Kennedy?”

  Kennedy’s shoulders slumped and she could actually feel her confidence evaporating. This was a mistake. A disaster, though she couldn’t understand why. And it didn’t matter that she wasn’t finished, didn’t matter that she’d done the work and the plan made sense. Maggie would never hear her now.

  But before she could reply, Ari was stepping between them, arms folded across her thin chest, chin jutting. “It’s a good idea.”

  “You were in on this?” Maggie managed a slightly calmer tone with the child.

  “Yeah. We were going to surprise you all once everything was finished.”

  “Surprise me.” Maggie rubbed a hand over her eyes.

  “I’m sure Kennedy meant well,” Pru interjected. “She didn’t know it was going to be the nursery.”

  The nursery? Realization slammed into Kennedy. This room had been intended as the nursery for Maggie’s baby. Might very well have been one of the last memories she’d had attached to that time.

  Oh. Oh shit. What have I done?

  “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Maggie bit out.

  “That’s enough,” Xander snapped. His phone began to ring again.

  “Maybe you should get that instead of sticking your nose in family business,” Maggie said.

  Xander stepped up to Maggie, toe-to-toe. “Family business does not give you the right to abuse your sister. It doesn’t give you the right to treat her as an outsider or a screw up. She’s none of those things. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Because you didn’t bother to ask. You’ve just made assumptions.”

  Kennedy hunched her shoulders, wishing she could curl up into a ball and hide from all the hard words and hateful tones.

  Someone’s text notification went off.

  “And you didn’t the last ten years?” Maggie fired back.

  “I asked as soon as I had the chance.”

  Kennedy couldn’t take it anymore. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Xander, don’t.”

  “The hell I won’t. I’m not going to stand by and let her attack you. You’re mine and they damned well better get used to the fact that you don’t stand alone anymore.”

  “Oh my God. Xander.”

  None of them even spared Pru a glance.

  “She’s been working her ass off for the last two weeks trying to fix someone else’s mess and you will give her the courtesy of listening to her plan.”

  Maggie’s cool eyes turned hot.

  “Xander!” The edge of panic in Pru’s voice had them all turning toward her.

  “What?” he growled.

  “I just got a text from your mom. Your father’s had a heart attack.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  XANDER CALLED HIS MOTHER back, somehow managing to keep his voice calm and even, despite the fact that every cell in his body was dialed to disbelief or panic. He tried to focus on what she was saying but could barely hear past the roaring in his ears. Was this what it had been like for Kennedy when Pru called about Joan? Instinctively, he reached for her, curling trembling fingers around hers.

  Realizing his mom had stopped talking, he forced himself to speak. “I’ll meet you there.” He’d gotten the location of the hospital, at least.

  “Hurry.”

  He hung up the phone, then just stared at the blank screen, the last words he’d spoken to his father echoing through his brain.

  From this day forward, you’re dead to me.

  What had he done?

  “Xander?” Kennedy’s soft voice was as much a reminder of support as a question.

  Feeling utterly lost, he lifted his head to look at her. “I... He’s been rushed to the hospital in Johnson City.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “I...” Xander closed his eyes, at war with himself. He was still so fucking angry. And his father might be dying.

  Kennedy closed the distance between them, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, beyond grateful that she was here.

  “It doesn’t matter how angry you are with him right now. If you don’t go, you’ll regret it.”

  His shuddering inhale shook them both. “Okay.” This was a disaster. He was trained to handle disasters. He could do this. He stepped back. “Okay.”

  “Give me your keys.” Kennedy held out a hand.

  “I’m in the cruiser. You can’t legally drive it.”

  “Then we’ll take Joan’s Jeep. You’re in no shape to drive.”

  He didn’t argue.

  Her sisters trailed them down the stairs.

  “Keep us updated,” Pru said. “And let us know what we can do.”

  Kennedy said something he didn’t hear. Then they were in the Jeep, flying out of town. She didn’t pressure him to speak on the half-hour drive, and he was grateful. He didn’t think he could process any of this yet. But he held tight to her hand because she was his lifeline.

  They found his mother in the waiting room. Marilyn leapt up at the sight of him. “Xander!” Then her gaze slid to Kennedy and her step faltered.

  The idea of not bringing Kennedy had never even crossed his mind, but at that little hitch, Xander began to wonder if her being here was the right thing after all. She’d come to support him, but what kind of toll would this take on her?

  He pulled his mother in for a tight hug. “What’s going on?”

  “They’ve rushed him in for emergency surgery.” Her pretty face was streaked with tears. “Beyond that, I don’t know.”

  Xander held her by the elbows, struggling to keep his composure. “What happened?”

  Marilyn’s gaze strayed to Kennedy. Just a quick, involuntary glance, but Xander saw it. “His conscience caught up with him.”

  No, not his conscience. Xander. This was because of him, because he’d gone to war for her, trying to make his father pay for his wrongs. It seemed he’d done too good a job.

  Marilyn turned to face Kennedy, fresh distress written across her features. “Kennedy, what he did—”

  “Don’t.” Kennedy’s tone was gentle. “That’s not what’s important right now.”

  That she could set all that aside after what his father had done… She was a better person than he was, and he felt humbled that she was with him.

  His mother’s lips trembled. She reached out to take Kennedy’s hand. “Thank you for coming.”

  The waiting was excruciating. Kennedy made an effort to distract them both for a few hours with a continuous string of stories from her travels. She brought them bad coffee, tried to get them both to eat something. And the clock kept ticking. Eventually, sometime after the four-hour mark, his mother fell asleep, slumped in one of the waiting room chairs. A kind nurse brought a pillow and blanket. Xander paced to the window as Kennedy used them
to make her as comfortable as possible. Guilt and dread churned in his gut. Why the hell hadn’t the doctors come to tell them anything?

  Kennedy joined him at the window, looking out into the night. “Your mom’s asleep finally. How you holding up?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. He didn’t look at her, couldn’t, as he admitted, “This is all my fault.”

  “Pretty sure you can’t be responsible for the condition of your dad’s heart.” Her words were matter-of-fact, and under any other circumstances, maybe they’d have helped.

  “I’m sure as hell responsible for saying the things that pushed him over the edge.”

  Sliding an arm around his waist, she said, “Tell me.”

  Maybe it would help to confess it like a sin in church. He dropped his head forward, pressing his brow to the cool glass. “After the meeting, he tried to apologize. As if an apology would make up for what he did. I told him as much. Dressed him down for his behavior and threatened to make the whole thing public so he’d never get re-elected. I told him he’d lost all my respect, as a sheriff and as a father. And I—” His voice broke. “I said he was dead to me.”

  “Oh, Xander.” Kennedy turned into him.

  He didn’t deserve the comfort, but he held on anyway because she was the only thing keeping him from flying apart. “I knew he didn’t look quite right, but I just thought, well, that’s what he looked like when I finally defied him. And I just walked out.”

  “You were angry.”

  That was no excuse. “I should’ve realized—”

  “Did your dad have a known heart condition?”

  Xander tried to think. “I—not that I’m aware of.”

  “Then you couldn’t have known,” she insisted. “You were angry and it was your right to be so, your right to express it. You have too strong a sense of justice not to want consequences for what he did.”

  “But I didn’t mean this.” No matter how angry he was, he’d never have wished this.

  “Of course not. And you didn’t do this. This is not on you.”

  “But—”

  “Listen. I came back. I was the reminder of when he broke the rules. Did something awful. Does that make any of this is my fault?”