by Jillian Hart
Not that she was going to let that soften her.
“I’ll fight hard, I promise you.” The district attorney’s molasses-rich voice caught her attention. It took all her strength to turn toward him and away from Liam.
Something kept trying to pull her back, something she did her best to resist as her brothers, arriving from their farm an hour out of town, hurried down the aisle just in time for court to begin.
* * *
Brooke shifted on the hard bench as the morning session progressed, fighting her own memories. Trying to stay in the present moment and not to remember sitting next to her defense attorney with the jury’s eyes on her. Doing her best not to remember the time when her life hung in the balance.
The observers in the courtroom seemed to take a collective breath as the young college-age woman tapped her way to the witness box, her high heels striking the tile like hammer blows in the silence.
“How are you doing?” Colbie leaned in to whisper. “This isn’t reminding you of your court date?”
“A little, but I’ll be okay.” Her chin went up, buoyed by her determination. The past couldn’t get to her. It couldn’t defeat her. She refused to be pulled back into those memories of defeat and hopelessness.
“If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me. It was my morning devotional verse. You’re not alone.” Colbie paused while the woman on the stand raised her right hand. “I can see how hard this is for you. You’re completely pale.”
“You should be thinking about Bree. I can’t imagine how hard this has to be for her.” Her whisper wobbled, nearly betraying her. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”
“I can’t help it.”
The district attorney pushed out of his chair, approaching the witness in a slow, measured stride. His buttery baritone broke the tense silence. Overhead the buzz of fluorescent lights, the echoed rustles from the audience and the solemn moment threatened to dig deep and hook those memories she fought to suppress.
A little help, Lord, please. She leaned on Him in prayer, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe she shouldn’t be leaning on anyone. She’d made the decisions that had changed her life, not God.
“It was just a few minutes before seven.” The hostess who’d been on shift the night of the robbery stopped to draw in a shaky breath. She looked small and vulnerable on the stand.
Brooke knew how that felt.
“I was just about to seat a seven o’clock reservation when the front doors burst open so hard, they crashed into the doorstops. Everyone jumped. People waiting began screaming,” the hostess said.
Brianna had been in that restaurant. Brooke covered her face with her hands, remembering her half sister ashen and motionless in ICU, the sister she’d barely known at the time.
“I’ll never forget the way the light gleamed off the rifle barrel,” the hostess continued. Her voice cracked. “I saw the gun before I saw anything else. My mind screeched to a stop. One moment everything was fine, peaceful and my biggest worry was figuring out how to accommodate a large last-minute group and the next thing I hear is gunfire.”
That’s how it happens, Brooke thought. One moment everything was normal, but the next? Wham. Everything changed. Brianna had been loading her tray in the kitchen and the next moment she’d been critically shot.
That’s what had happened in her life, too. One moment she’d been sitting in her car, hand on the steering wheel, engine idling at the border into Canada and the next moment a search dog barked. The border patrol ordered her out of her car and she’d watched in horror as they searched her trunk to find several bricks of heroin in a brown grocery bag tucked next to the spare tire. She could still feel the jerk rocketing up her arm as rough hands spun her around. Cold metal handcuffs clamped around her wrists.
You’re not going to remember, right, Brooke? She tried to will down the memory. It was stubborn. Colbie’s hand covered hers and squeezed in reassurance. Tears burned behind her eyes as she squeezed back, grateful for the comfort and the strength. The past faded away, leaving her solidly in the present surrounded by family members she loved.
Life was definitely getting better. She would focus on that. She took a steadying breath, relaxed against the back of the seat and ignored the tingle on the nape of her neck. No way was she going to turn around because she knew it was Liam. The tug of her heart, the pull against her soul and the awareness of him did not relent.
But she was stronger. She straightened her spine, stared straight ahead and forced herself to forget he was in the room.
* * *
After a grim day of testimony, Oscar’s exuberant cheer felt uplifting. With the windows rolled down they drove across town while the Lab ran back and forth from window to window, sniffing and panting. Every now and then he’d poke his nose over the back of the seat to swipe his tongue across Liam’s ear or try to poke into the grocery bag on the front passenger seat.
“Sorry, buddy. Not going to happen.” As he turned right into the neighborhood, he reached over to nudge the sack out of the lab’s reach. “If Gram doesn’t get this ham, she might revoke dog sitting privileges. Is that what you want?”
With a quirk of his doggy brows, Oscar panted happily. Perhaps the only word he’d understood was ham.
“You resist the ham, got it? I know it’s tough, but try. Hanging with Gram is a lot better than the kennel at home. I fixed it up real nice, but something tells me you’re not much of a loner.” He chuckled as Oscar panted in agreement. What a great idea it had been to get a dog. The best idea he’d ever had.
“There you are.” Gram straightened from her flowerbeds, clapping dirt from her snazzy pink gardening gloves. She peered at him from beneath her straw hat’s brim. “I heard from your mother not long ago. She said to call her. It was news to her you’d gotten a dog.”
“I’ve been busy.” He grabbed the ham before he climbed out of the truck. He was learning. He opened Oscar’s door. “I’ll call her over the weekend. Look what I have for you.”
“It’s about time. Don’t think I’m up to forgiving that dog of yours.” A hint of a grin curved her disapproving mouth, ruining the pretense. “How about it, dog? Are you gonna help yourself to my ham again?”
Oscar hit the ground on all fours, barking happily. His nose worked as he sniffed the air, harboring ham hopes as his tail zinged back and forth.
“Just like I thought. That one’s not to be trusted.” Gram took charge of the ham, feigning disgruntlement. “I see you didn’t take my advice and return him.”
“I’ve sort of gotten attached.”
“That’s the problem with a dog. They can capture your heart pretty quick. Not mine, mind you, but some people’s.” Gram sounded tough but she couldn’t fool him. “I hope he’s not being too much trouble.”
“No, I’m the problem. I should have put in more research before I got him.” He was to blame. Brooke was right about that. Thinking of her made his chest tighten. “You know me. I’m all sorts of trouble.”
“Yes, you are, young man. Don’t know how I’ve managed to put up with you all these years.” Amusement shone beneath her gruff tone. “Don’t know quite why.”
“Maybe the free newspaper subscription helps?” He held open the door for her.
“Yep, a free morning paper. That’s the real reason I put up with you.” Amused, Gram shuffled into the kitchen, presumably to put the ham safely in the refrigerator where Oscar couldn’t get it. “How did the trial go today? I was fixing supper when Lil and the girls came home so I didn’t get a chance to head outside and talk with ’em.”
“The D.A. has a tight case. I think it’s going to get interesting, but it’s got to be hard for the families involved.” He thought of Brooke again. She’d come to town for her sister’s sake and she would be leaving when the trial was done.
Another reason not to keep his guard up.
“What a terrible thi
ng those robbers did. I’m good friends with young Juanita’s grandmother.” Although the wall divided them, he didn’t have to see her face to measure her sadness for her friend. It knelled in her voice like a funeral bell. “Such a loss. And poor Brianna. We came close to losing her, too.”
“I know.” With the windows open to let in the pleasant May breeze, noise came in, too. The putter of a motorcycle driving by, the slam of someone’s screen door, the murmur of conversation. A woman’s shriek rolled in on the breeze, followed by a peal of laughter he would recognize anywhere.
Brooke. His heart kicked into overdrive. He pulled back the sheers trying to look out before realizing the fence blocked most of the view of Lil’s yard.
Oscar’s ears pricked. He barked loud and zealously. Chocolate-brown eyes met Liam’s, as if to ask, “Where is she? Where is she?”
Gram paraded into the living room. “I guess you may as well get on your way. Leave the leash by the door. Tell me you’ve got that monster trained.”
“If I did, I would be lying. But he’s better than he was on Sunday.” He brushed a kiss on his grandmother’s cheek, patted Oscar on the head and veered toward the door. “You be good while I’m gone, okay? I won’t be long.”
Oscar’s ears pricked, his head tilted as if he was thinking “huh?”
The minute the door closed shut behind him, a dog’s heartbroken yowl shattered the peaceful evening.
“That’s Oscar,” a familiar voice commented on the other side of the fence as a screen door slapped shut. Brooke. He could imagine her standing on Lil’s porch. “I would recognize that howl anywhere.”
“It’s worse than that emergency broadcast signal,” someone answered—Colbie, he guessed. “I’m not sure I’ve heard anything as annoying. It’s amazing.”
Amazing. That was the word as he poked his head around the fence post where Gram’s lilacs ended and Lil’s roses began. He lost his breath at the sight of Brooke in denim shorts, a turquoise top and bare feet, her hair caught up in pigtails.
She was a seriously beautiful woman and he was seriously not going to notice.
“Liam.” Colbie spoke first, breaking into her open smile as she lowered what looked like a giant squirt gun. “Is Oscar all right? I mean, what’s up with that crying?”
“Separation anxiety, or so I’m told.” His stubborn gaze remained glued to Brooke. “Gram said she’d watch him. It’s my volunteer night and I didn’t want him to get lonely at home.”
“Or deafen your neighbors.” Colbie laughed, tapping down the steps, her old pair of sneakers squeaking. “It totally slipped my mind that you spend a lot of time at the community youth center. Do you know who else does a lot of volunteer work?”
He knew the answer before she continued. He braced for it.
“Brooke.” Colbie landed on the walkway, her free hand firmly grasped around her older half sister’s wrist, dragging her into the grass. “I think you should invite her along. I’m on this campaign to get her to move here. You could help me convince her. How about it?”
“Colbie, I’m sure that’s the last thing Liam wants to do. To be saddled with me for two evenings in a row.” Brooke rolled her eyes—cute—and stared at the ground. Perhaps a little embarrassed.
So was he. He liked Brooke, but distance remained between them. It was a good idea.
“You’re always saying how the center needs more volunteers.” Colbie gave her neon-blue plastic rifle a hitch, like she was getting ready for a military campaign. “Here’s your chance. If Brooke finds a great place to volunteer, then it will be impossible for her to leave.”
“See? This is why I miss Seattle.” Brooke swiped damp bangs from her forehead—obviously she’d taken a hit from Colbie’s rifle. “No nosy, pushy sisters there.”
“I know you miss me.” Colbie laughed, tilted her head. “Ooh, listen. The dog’s quieted down. Well, I’m going to go. I’m on the hunt for the twins. Liam, did I mention Brooke is practically a volleyball champion?”
“I’m not a champion. Honestly.” She shook her head. Unbelievable. Could her sister be any more obvious? “I’m fair to middling, that’s all. I take it the youth center has something to do with volleyball?”
“Yep, a game twice a week. You must be good if Colbie says so.” He strode toward her, interested now. “If you’re looking for a good cause, then talk your sisters into bringing you down to the center. It’s fun, you’ll be helping out a great group of kids and we need women volunteers. There are a lot of girls in need of solid role models.”
“I’m no role model.” She hoped he didn’t see her as one because that only meant he didn’t see her at all.
“That’s just your opinion.” Kind, that almost blinding smile as he came close enough for her to see the five o’clock shadow hugging his square jaw. “You said you like to make a difference. I’m just saying. Colbie and the twins know where the center is. Just think about it, okay?”
No. That’s what she should say, but what came out? “Okay.”
“Good news for the center.” He jingled his keys, backing away. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
How did the man become more irresistible every time she saw him? Dressed in a gray T-shirt, athletic shorts and shoes, he could have walked off the pages of a sports magazine, hunky and buff with a wholesome boy-next-door glow.
She was iron. Unmovable. Unalterable. Indestructible. She was not going to soften her stance toward the guy.
“Yes, you will see her there. I’ll make sure of it!” Colbie called, but her words were cut short with a shriek as the twins leaped from behind a lilac bush and ambushed her with a water balloon.
Chapter Eight
“I miss Seattle,” Brooke commented dryly from the backseat of Colbie’s SUV. “Quiet, peaceful, solitary Seattle.”
“Ha-ha. We’re so not fooled.” Brandi squished in next to her and gave her a shoulder bump. “Admit it. You love us.”
“I’ll admit no such thing.” She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “This is practically kidnapping.”
“True.” Unrepentant Colbie turned into a crowded parking lot. “If I didn’t have my water rifle, I’m not sure we could have convinced you to get in the car.”
“We could have always used my water balloons,” Bree pointed out, stifling laughter. “Don’t forget I have deadly aim.”
Colby swung into a parking spot, the engine died, doors popped open and McKaslin girls spilled into the pleasant evening sunshine.
“I just want to point out that this isn’t far from home. Practically a stone’s throw.” Colbie fell in beside Brooke and hooked their arms together. “Or from the twins’ place, if you decide to stay there. After all, Brianna will be getting married and Brandi will need another roommate. Just things to keep in mind.”
Brooke rolled her eyes.
“That won’t be for a while,” Bree pointed out, walking beside her twin. “Right, Brandi? Max wants a winter wedding, I want a spring wedding—”
“—but if she wants to move in with us, say now, Bree and I can bunk together—” Brandi explained.
“—and Brooke can have the second bedroom,” Bree finished.
“Ooh, I like that plan,” Colbie pronounced as she yanked open the door. Noise, echoing in on itself, met them along with the breeze of air conditioning.
“Colbie and the twins,” a rumbling voice—not Liam’s—greeted them. A tall, blond, vaguely familiar-looking man strolled in from a nearby office, a referee’s whistle hanging from his neck. “Can’t believe you’re here, especially with the trial going on.”
“We felt the need to blow off steam,” Bree spoke up.
“Plus I’m trying to talk Brooke into moving here and she likes to volunteer. What better place than here?” Colbie squeezed Brooke’s arm a little harder. “Can you help me with my plan?”
“Maybe.” The man had a friendly smile. “So you are the long-lost McKaslin girl. I’m Chad Lawson. I’m married to your cousin Rebecca. I’
m also in charge here. Can’t believe they gave me that much responsibility.”
“Neither can we,” Colbie quipped, leaning in closer to add, “He’s the assistant youth pastor at our church, which is why he might look a little familiar.”
“Glad to have you.” He smiled. “The locker rooms are to your right, the rec rooms are to your left and if you’re dying to play volleyball just follow the noise.” Someone called Chad’s name and he glanced over his shoulder.
“Gotta go. Duty calls.” He jogged away, blowing his whistle, the sound reverberating in the cavernous building.
“Well, I’m heading for the locker room.” Brandi held out her hand. “Give me your stuff. I’ll lock it up.”
“Thanks.” Colbie handed over her purse and keys. Brooke held up her hands, showing she had nothing on her. She’d come ready to play.
She couldn’t say why her pulse skipped a few beats as she let Colbie tug her into the gymnasium. Six games were in progress in the huge space, where teenagers along with a few adults leaped, spiked and served, dove for saves and cheered points earned. Brooke paused on the sidelines, soaking it in.
“Brooke, Colbie! Over here.” A pleasant tenor rose above all the other sounds. Liam, with the ball tucked into the crook of his arm, waved his free hand over his head. Masculine. Athletic. Heartstopping. “I’m one player down.”
“Go on,” Colbie whispered to her. “I’m a terrible player. At least you won’t be a laughingstock. Go on, go.”
“I’m not fooled.” She knew what her sister was up to, but did it matter? Not a bit. No ploy of Colbie’s to match her up with Liam could possibly work. And why? Because she’d made up her mind. Her heart was invincible.
“Why don’t you take the spot next to me?” He looked like a natural—feet braced, hair tousled. “That way I can give you a few pointers if you need ’em. Everyone, this is Brooke. Brooke, this is everyone. Are you ready to play?”
