Refuge on Leebrick (The Hills of Burlington Book 4)

by Jacie Middlemann

  “Dinner?”

  “A meal, Grace. Nothing more,” he said patiently. “We could go somewhere or I could fix something at the house. It may be old but they filled the kitchen with about every modern convenience known to man when they renovated it. Top of the line, too.” He watched her quietly as he waited for her answer. Both of them knew he could cook. He wasn’t five-star restaurant quality but he could put a decent meal together. And had done just that on more than one occasion for the two of them. The moment he saw where her answer was leaning towards he continued not so much in anticipation of any question on her part but because he had his own preference in the matter. “Maybe tomorrow night at the Summer Street house?”

  On a quiet sigh Grace admitted the inevitable truth. She wanted to do just as he was asking. “What time?”

  He glanced back at one of the several signs she had sitting around the store advertising the store hours. “You close at six so how about seven? Does that give you enough time?” At her slight nod he decided to make an exit before she could change her mind. “Could you hold this for me?” he asked as he handed her the vintage quilt he’d pulled from the bottom of the pile. “I’ll probably find more when I have more time to look and I’ll pay for it all then.” In truth he didn’t want to give her even that little bit of time to talk herself out of what she’d just agreed to. Something he knew she was easily capable of doing.

  “No problem,” Grace said as she carried the quilt to the front.

  “Tomorrow then,” Tom said easily and made his way for the door. Stopping only to send a quick wave in her direction as he passed through the heavy wood and glass entrance.

  Grace watched silently as he moved along the street outside towards the next intersection. On an equally quiet sigh she wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Looked down at the quilt she still held in her hands. Closed her eyes. Remembered. After a few moments she stuffed the quilt into one of the shelves below the cash register. I can do this, she told herself staunchly. I can do this. And prayed for the strength so she could.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Carrie, could I talk to you about something?”

  Carrie sent a smile in Rob’s direction. She could literally feel his worry but couldn’t figure out for the life of her what it might be about. “You bet. What’s up?”

  “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about.” He stuffed his hands deep into his jean pockets. He’d rehearsed the words over and over again in his head and now couldn’t remember a single one. “I probably should have said something long before this.”

  “Is something wrong?” She began to worry, wondered if Nick had any idea of what it might be. “Do you need to talk with your Dad?”

  “It’s not that kind of thing,” he shrugged negligently as if it was no big deal while everything in his posture and expression said otherwise. He knew it was stupid but her worry made him feel worse. “I’ll tell Dad at some point.” Maybe. He didn’t know his father that well, not really. But he knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t get this. Probably wouldn’t even want to hear about it.

  “Okay,” Carrie moved over to the refrigerator, pulled the milk out and began the process of making them both some hot chocolate. When she turned to reach for the chocolate powder mix she favored she caught his slight smile.

  “You make hot chocolate whenever you get all worried.”

  “Busted,” Carried admitted with a laugh. “How about just spilling it, that way we can both enjoy it.”

  Nick moved over to the cabinet to grab the bag of miniature marshmallows she liked to heap on to overflowing in the cups once they were filled with the hot drink. “You know that room we were in the other day? The one that gives you a punch in the gut almost as if a tornado swept into you when you go in?” When he turned with the bag of marshmallows in hand and saw her staring at him he knew telling her at this point was a moot issue.

  “When did you know?” Carrie asked not even trying to control the shakiness she knew was in her voice.

  “First time I was there with Addie. I didn’t want to say anything then because I wasn’t sure about what it meant and because…” he looked up into the eyes that held his with a world of understanding he’d never known before. “Addie was pretty bummed that she didn’t get the punch and I didn’t want to rub it in.” Before he could say another word he was enfolded in arms that held him close and tight. With a deep and embarrassingly shaky breath he simply let himself be held.

  “Okay,” Carrie said then took a step back. Knew she’d been given a huge gift in his acceptance of her impulsive action. “You’re family.” She laughed, she simply couldn’t help it. Her next words slipped out before she could stop herself. “Your dad is going to have a cow.”

  “Yeah. Isn’t that cool?”

  Carrie was thrilled by the sarcasm she heard in his voice. It was so much like the teenager he was yet hadn’t ever been given the chance to be. “Oh, Rob, this is wonderful! Court is going to be both thrilled and jealous at the same time.” She saw the worry in his eyes almost before her words were spoken and at the spur of the moment made her decision. “I’m about to fill you in on another little family secret. Court was going to tell you but I’m going to beat him to the punch so you can understand his jealousy. That way you’ll understand you have absolutely no reason to feel any worry about it.” She took his hand, led him into the front room where Court had his computer system set up in a small alcove to one side of the room. Next to it was a wall of built-in bookshelves. She pointed to one of the lower shelves that was lined with paperbacks. “See those?”

  Rob bent over just enough to recognize the author’s name. “I’ve read a couple of them.” He sent her a quick smile, one of the few he’d offered that was without reservation. “Do you think he’d care if I borrowed them one at a time to read?”

  “Of course not, Rob. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Or he should and she decided both she and Court were going to have to subtly make that point more often until he believed it. “But there’s another reason I wanted you to see these.”

  “Something to do with Court’s jealousy over what happens when I walk into that room?” Rob flipped through the book he’d chosen from the shelf filled with the alternative history books he enjoyed reading.

  “Did I hear someone admit to having a reaction to walking into a room?” Court asked from the doorway leading into the kitchen.

  Carrie turned to her husband with a huge smile on her face. “Court, you’ll never guess what Rob just told me.”

  Court felt the punch in his gut that hit him every time his wife smiled at him as if his presence made her day. He hoped it wasn’t something that ever changed….her smile or his reaction to it. He walked over and slid his arm around her waist. “I heard part of it when I came in. I think I’m jealous,” he said with an easy smile at the young man standing by the bookshelf.

  “See, Rob. Didn’t I tell you?” Carrie laughed at the expressions on both of their faces. “I was about to explain to Rob why you would be but since you’re here I’ll let you do the honors.”

  Court met her eyes with his. Her pride in his work never failed to amaze him…or humble him. It didn’t matter whether he was working with his hands in the family contracting business that he enjoyed more than he’d ever expected to or if it was directed at one of his newly completed books and she was able to be the first to read it. He turned to the young man who looked on with a mixture of confusion and worry on his face. Saw the book he held in his hand and shared with him what few knew outside of the family which appeared that he was now part of in more ways than one. He nodded towards the book Rob held. “You read many of those?”

  “Just a couple of them. One of the nurses in the hospital brought me a couple to read. When he found out I liked them Dad brought me a couple more.”

  A quick glance in his wife’s direction and the slight shake of her head told him Nick didn’t know. That didn’t surprise him a
t all. “Here,” Court walked over to his desk and leaned down to pull out the box he’d recently received then had shoved under his desk to get it out of the way. When he flipped open the top to reveal its contents he heard the gasp from beside him. When he stood with a copy of one of his newer books he saw that Rob was every bit as quick on the uptake as he’d suspected. No one was going to have to teach this one how to connect the dots. “You can let me know what you think of this one.” He handed Rob the newest release of his popular series.

  “You’re this guy.” Rob looked from the book to the man he spent hours with in the attic helping him put down flooring and just about anything else it took to get it done.

  “I am indeed,” Court said with an almost sheepish smile.

  “Why do you do all that other stuff?”

  Court shrugged and answered truthfully understanding the question wasn’t asked for any reason other than Rob trying to understand. “I like to.” He caught his eyes and held them when he spoke again. “Sometimes I go for weeks…sometimes longer without writing. Without having anything in my head to write. Rather than sitting around doing nothing I fill it with other things I enjoy doing.” He glanced at his wife. Knew she was letting him handle both this and the other, trusting him to do both in such a way to help Rob understand and feel more comfortable in their home and with their family. “I imagine Carrie told you I’d be jealous of your connection to the room over at the other house. It would have been awesome to be able to understand what it’s like so I can somehow use it in one of my books.” He eyed the young man who still struggled with making that jump from boyhood to adulthood. Knew it had to be even harder since childhood for him had been only one step away from miserable. “But it just occurred to me that I can take advantage of the next best thing to experiencing it myself. Instead I can pick your brain about it.”

  Rob thought that sounded pretty cool. He couldn’t think of anything he’d heard so far that wasn’t. “Sure. You can do that.” He glanced down at the two books he still held in his hand. Looked back up at Court. “Could I tell my Dad about this?” he nodded down to the books.

  “Sure.” Court wasn’t certain what that might be about but could tell it was important.

  “Cool.” He gave them both a smile as he turned and headed up to his room.

  Carrie moved over to her husband and practically grabbed his arm. “Did you see that smile? I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it since he got here.”

  “I saw,” he pulled her close. “I have a feeling he’s on his way to rub his dad’s nose in what he just found out.”

  “That’s what put that big smile on his face?” Carrie had brothers but had never come close to understanding them.

  “I think that’s a large part of it.” But he’d also seen the look on Rob’s face when he’d told him he planned on spending quite a bit of time picking his brain on how it felt to be connected to the awesome family heritage he’d unexpectedly found himself an integral part of. “I think there’s a whole lot going Rob’s way right now that has things looking up for him all the way around.” He nudged her in closer to him. Leaned his head down against hers as he listened to Rob pace back and forth in his room upstairs. Had seen him do the same thing before when he’d been talking on the phone. “But I think at this moment he’s enjoying being able to one-up his dad. Especially since I don’t think it happens very often.”

  Carrie thought about it then tilted her face slightly to look up at her husband. “As much as it might irk Nick to find out you’re actually one of his favorite authors I think whenever Rob gets around to explaining his other bit of new that ties him to my family, that might irk Nick even more.”

  “No doubt about that one.” Court agreed with her and knew he’d give a lot to hear that conversation. “But something else has crossed my mind now that I know about Rob’s reaction to walking into that room.”

  “He’s connected.” Carrie couldn’t help but wonder what Addie would say and think about it.

  “And could that be part of the reason you accepted his existence as readily as you did, not necessarily now but years ago when his mother first contacted you?”

  Carrie looked over at him as she absorbed what he was really getting at. How was he connected? Through Nick or through his mother? There was the real question for her.

  “Do you think Rob has thought about it? Thought about which of his parents he’s connected through?”

  “I have no doubt about it. Just as I have no doubt next time his father’s here he’ll take him over for a quick jaunt over to the Summer Street house.” He shrugged at the thought of the other man’s next visit. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the man, he just didn’t like him around.

  “Yeah.” And that was something she’d wonder about until then as well. She looked at her husband, her thoughts serious. “You may think it’s wishful thinking but what do you want to bet it’s not Nick.”

  Court thought about what she was implying in a not so subtle way. The connection would either be Nick or Rob’s mother. Considering all the man was dealing with at the moment in the nation’s capital he had a feeling it was going to be a while before his next visit. But he knew his wife’s instincts. They were more reliable than anything he could think of. He pulled her close for another hug. “I don’t think I’d bet much on it.” He listened to the pacing above them continue. Obviously they had a lot to talk about for once. “I’ll get with Tom and Jake and go over that genealogy chart they’ve been working on. In all likelihood we can get an answer to explain which side it comes from long before Nick’s next visit.” At least he hoped it would.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “So, what do I owe this honor to?” Tom asked even as he slid his fork into his second helping of the creamy pasta dish Beth had prepared for their dinner. She had just left to meet Wes after staying just long enough to eat with them. He had a strong feeling that Jake had something he wanted to talk about and she knew it.

  “Remember the short biography you gave us on the guy you saw and heard along with Beth the other day?”

  “It’ll be a while before I forget it,” Tom said wryly. “What about him?”

  “Just wondering if there was anything more you might have picked up on during your…” Jake let his words drift off not certain exactly how to put it..whatever it was.

  “Visit?” Tom said lightly understanding his friend’s hesitation. He wasn’t all that certain of the terminology either. At Jake’s nod he shrugged lightly. “What makes you think I did?”

  “Nothing in particular. But I’ve been around you long enough to know you tend to automatically edit information for the audience at hand.” Jake didn’t mince words. They’d known each other too long.

  “There really wasn’t anything more that stood out,” Tom began then stopped abruptly. He wasn’t in front of an audience now. This was Jake.

  “What?” Jake asked seeing that there was indeed something that stood out.

  “It’s not much but considering what we’re talking about in the first place I’m not certain what that says,” Tom said with no little bit of cynicism in his voice.

  “Go on,” was all Jake said.

  “There was more than just a feeling of sadness in him. He carried himself well but I could tell it cost him. But there was a moment, I think Beth may have sensed the same with his daughter, when there was a direct connection between us. Somehow for a split second he knew of my presence. I don’t know how. But then I don’t know how I saw, heard, and felt what I did,” he said then sighed. He thought about those brief moments. “But he did and however he did, his thoughts in those few moments were meant for me.” Tom stood and opened his friend’s refrigerator knowing he could count on him to have the drink he badly needed at that moment. He sat back down with it and as he flipped the bottle cap off he looked at the man across from him. “Surprisingly enough I still have a difficult time believing that we’re even having this conversation.”

  Jake studied his
old friend silently for a moment before reaching behind him for the slim folder sitting on the counter where he’d left it. “That might reach a new level after you look at this.” He silently handed him the folder.

  “What’s this?”

  “Remember when Aunt Charlie asked about the man who spoke during that little session or whatever it was in the room when you and Beth…” he paused. His friend wasn’t the only one who didn’t believe they were having these conversations.

  “Made that connection to our past?”

  “That sounds as good as anything,” Jake agreed. Took a long drink out of his own bottle. “My sister, Carrie, and Mary wondered about it. Mary was the one who got elected to talk with Aunt Charlie to see what she could find out. Turns out she recognized the voice as one she often heard when she was growing up, mostly in her childhood years. I believe she referred to it as whispers in the night, according to Mary.” He nodded to the folder. “That contains Aunt Charlie’s notes of what she remembers hearing, some of what she remembers talking with her sisters about, and the very little she remembers overhearing her parents talking about that directly pertains to all this.”

  “What you want to bet the part about overhearing her parents talking was more along the lines of eavesdropping,” Tom said with a small smile on his face as he flipped the folder open. It held a couple of concisely typed out pages of notes that were divided into sections exactly as Jake had described. He glanced over the first couple of paragraphs then looked up at the man across from him. “She stopped hearing the voice in her teens?”

  “That’s what Mary said. Aunt Charlie decided they were just dreams, very real dreams.”

  “She stopped accepting it,” Tom said simply. At Jake’s questioning look he went on. “Remember what Mary told us. Part of it is acceptance. Being open to what to many is inconceivable not to mention impossible. When that stopped for Charlie, when she told herself it wasn’t real, it stopped being real.” He looked back down at the folder. Read through what remained. “Sounds like her sister Leslie may have been the most closely connected of the three sisters.”