by Jillian Hart
He’d loved her. He hadn’t realized how much until it was gone. Until he could measure the pain of her loss. His jaw clenched, his teeth ached from the pressure and he leaned farther back in his seat. A temperate wind breezed through the open window fanning his face, fragrant with the neighbor’s lilacs and roses. The gray cat leaped into sight and perched on a fence post, watching them through slitted eyes.
How could I have done this again, Lord? He shook his head, unlatched his seat belt and grabbed his keys. He had no one to blame but himself. He was a reporter. If he’d been paying attention, did some research, maybe wondered why Tasha Brown had wanted to interview Brooke in the first place, he may have discovered her past sooner. Before she decimated his heart.
A weight settled on his shoulder. Oscar’s chin. The Lab looked up at him with sympathetic eyes. Doggy brows arched with concern as if to say, “Are you all right?”
“No, but thanks, buddy.” He leaned the side of his head against Oscar’s, letting the moment be. The dog’s comfort felt like a blessing. “You’re all right, Oscar. Thanks for being my best friend.”
A happy lick swiped across his chin. Liam chuckled. Funny guy. He straightened up, scrubbed the dog’s ears. “Hey, you didn’t even try to get into the grocery sacks.”
Oscar sniffed the air, glanced at the bags on the front passenger seat and gave a toothy grin. All Oscar needed was to settle down and settle in. All he’d needed was a little love.
The quiet rumble of an engine pulled his attention. He glanced in his rearview and spotted Pop’s sedan driving in behind him. Through the sun-glinted glass, he caught his grandfather’s smile. Their usual Friday night get-together was the best part of his week and he was grateful for it. Keeping busy was the key to not thinking about Brooke. To not feeling the wasteland his heart had become.
“Let’s go say hi to Pop. What do you think?” he asked, and Oscar answered with a happy pant. So he opened the door, hopped to the ground and waited for his dog to leap down.
“Hey, boy.” Pop closed his car door, holding a paper sack. Looked like he’d stopped by the grocery store’s bakery section on the way. “Liam, this is quite a dog you have here. What a good boy.”
Hard to believe the Lab sat perfectly in front of Pop, waiting to be petted. And knowing Oscar, probably hoping for a bite of whatever treat was in that bag. “Yes, he’s something, all right.”
Oscar’s tail whacked the concrete in happy agreement as he accepted a scrub on the top of his head from Pop and then took off, eagerly leading the way to the backyard gate, checking over his shoulder to make sure the humans were following him appropriately.
The cat on the fence watched the proceedings with mild interest.
“I’ve heard a rumor.” Pop ambled up with a grin on his face.
“Oh, yeah?” He leaned across the truck seat to grab the two grocery bags. Paper crinkled as he straightened, shut the door and studied his grandfather. “What kind of rumor?”
“One about you.” Pop’s silver hair made him look distinguished and he stood straight and tall, just like always. “I heard from a few sources that you’ve been seen out and about with a pretty young lady.”
So much for not thinking about Brooke. “Don’t get your hopes up. She was just Oscar’s trainer.”
“I don’t know. According to one source, you seemed like a great deal more.”
“Maybe that was true once, but not now.” He gathered up his defenses. He couldn’t talk about this. He couldn’t do it, no way. He opened the gate, Oscar leaped into his yard and the cat raised one paw and began washing his face.
“Oh. I had hopes for you, son.” Pop frowned, disappointed, and closed the gate. “When I ran into Madge at Bible study, she told me all about you and one of the McKaslin girls.”
“Gram is anxious to marry me off. She’s reading way too much into things.” Casual, that was the way to be. Maybe he could convince himself he wasn’t in agony. That he didn’t want to go back in time to this morning, when he was still with Brooke. When she was flawless in the morning sunshine, her laughter wrapping around his soul like a gift. When love filled him with possibilities and hopes.
Yes, he wanted that more than anything. But it could not be.
“Brooke’s done helping Oscar, so that’s the end of it.” He shrugged, no big deal, even as he realized what he was doing. Covering up something that hurt him, so he wouldn’t be as vulnerable and to protect himself. Talking about it would only hurt more.
No, he stopped the thought before it could start. That wasn’t the same thing Brooke had done. She’d served time. She was not the sweet and honest woman he’d mistaken her for. He’d be smart not to start making excuses for her.
“Son, I’ve been praying for your heart to heal. You deserve to be happy again.” Pop set his bakery bag on the patio table.
“Don’t worry about me.” He unlocked the kitchen door. “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s debatable.” Understanding layered Pop’s baritone. “I saw how badly Sidney hurt you. Seems to me you’re hurting like that again.”
“No, this time it’s worse.” The truth tumbled out before he could stop it. He set the bags on the kitchen table and grabbed the matches from the junk drawer and a half-used bag of briquettes from the closet.
“I’m sorry to hear that, son.” Pop tugged the barbecue away from the side of the house. “I’ve been praying for you. I want you to know the wonder and sanctuary of love.”
“I’m disillusioned. More than disillusioned.” Love leads to heartbreak. He’d known that all along. He waited for Pop to remove the steel lid of the grill before upending the bag. Chunks of charcoal tumbled. Why was he remembering the first evening Brooke had come over, after Oscar had disheveled the house? He’d been intending to barbecue that night, too.
“Don’t let anything harden your heart.” Pop set the rack in place. Concern shaped his distinguished features. “The years I spent with your grandmother were the best in my life. She was taken from me too soon, but I know if she were here she would want me to tell you—don’t give up on love.”
“I appreciate the message, but I’m done with love. Finished.” He rolled up the bag and reached for the lighter fluid. He couldn’t explain why Brooke had gotten so far in that she owned a piece of his soul. That was one puzzle he wasn’t going to pursue. He didn’t need the answer to it. He needed it to go away. To cease being. For God to wipe the memory of Brooke McKaslin from his brain.
Oscar’s bark interrupted his thoughts.
“Look at that goofy dog. He brightens things up, doesn’t he?” Pop chuckled, already enamored.
“He sure does.” Oscar trotted alongside the fence, trailing the cat who was skimming the top boards, tossing a Cheshire cat look over his shoulder. Besotted, Oscar followed, hoping to be friends.
But the brightness was only temporary. Liam didn’t know how he was going to get past his all-consuming grief, the worst he’d ever known. He lit a match and dropped it. Watched the flame catch and fire spread. Brooke was a dream that had never been real.
But it sure had felt like it could have been. He shook his head, huffed out a breath and wished he could stop his soul from bleeding.
Chapter Sixteen
A pervasive misery gripped her, refusing to let go. Nothing seemed to loosen that hopeless feeling. Not working with Kerry Linton’s sweet old dog, and not running errands for Colbie and helping around the house. Not even heading out Sunday after church with Luke and Hunter to see their dairy farm in the peaceful Montana countryside. No matter what she did the weight of what she’d done and the harm she’d caused lurked, refusing to budge.
As long as she lived, she would never forget the hurt carved on Liam’s face when he’d walked away from her. In protecting herself, she’d harmed him. She unrolled the bag of pancake mix, measured it into a mixing bowl and listened to her movements rustle in the trailer’s cozy kitchen. Sunrise painted pink across the eastern landscape. Ethereal golden sun shone u
pon the new day like hope. Like a reassurance that heaven wasn’t as far away as it felt.
She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but it didn’t matter now. The way he’d avoided glancing her way in court and how he’d taken off immediately after the session last week. Probably he’d be the same way in court today. She couldn’t blame him. She opened the fridge and hauled out the carton of milk. She knew exactly how hard betrayal could scar.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Colbie burst into the kitchen fresh from the shower, her long hair still wet.
“Making breakfast for my family.” The measuring cup clanked to the counter and she scooped a wooden spoon out of a drawer. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”
“How do you know it was me?” Colbie dug out a fry pan from a bottom cabinet.
“Who else would leave a brochure from the local technical college next to the couch where I was sleeping?” She gave the batter a few good stirs. “I didn’t know they had a veterinary assistant program nearby.”
“Funny what a little investigative work will turn up.” Colbie thunked the pan onto the burner. “You could stay here or with the twins. The next time there’s an opening at the bookstore, I’ll get you on. I can do that, you know, since I’m the manager. Or, even better, I know the receptionist at Dr. Flynn’s office, a veterinarian from our church, and I’m persuasive. I might be able to get you a job there, you know, answering phones or cleaning up. Something entry-level.”
“Colbie, stop.” Her lovely sister, so determined to right wrongs. “You have to stop trying to fix my past. It’s over.”
“I can’t help it. I like to fix things.” She grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge. “This is my last bid since you’re leaving tomorrow. I know you’ve got that interview, but I have to say it—please stay.”
I wish. That thought rose up through the shards of her heart like a new dream taking flight. She let go of the spoon and leaned back against the counter.
“We want you here.” Love drove Colbie—it was plain to see now. That was her only motive. “I know Montana has bad memories for you, but maybe it can have even better ones, too. Maybe everything you really want is right here. Liam is here.”
“You know how things turned out with Liam.” She spun away to hide the grimace of pain. She tugged open the fridge and got out orange juice, jelly, maple syrup. The bottles plunked on the counter in a determined rhythm as she fought not to think about the man. About his check that had arrived in Lil’s box with the Saturday mail. No note, just a generous check, considering the number of hours she’d put in with Oscar.
Not that she intended to cash it. Ever. She’d torn it up into tiny bits and tossed it in the kitchen garbage can. She couldn’t accept pay, not after how she’d hurt him. It felt like pay-off money, a check he’d written just to get rid of the bad memories she’d left with him.
“You should try to explain.” Colbie leaned in to grab a package of bacon from the shelf. “Liam will understand. He’ll forgive you.”
“No, he won’t.” She’d never forget the look on his face. It was over. He despised her. What were the chances anything could change that?
None, that’s what. It couldn’t have worked from the beginning. She had no one to blame but herself. And Liam? He’d been the innocent one. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair that he’d gotten hurt.
A muted thud sounded from the front porch. Colbie looked up from peeling strips of bacon from the pack. “The morning paper. Would you mind fetching it? You know how Mom likes to read it over breakfast.”
“I do.” She pushed away from the counter, glad to get a little air. The pressure inside her chest made it tough to breathe in the little kitchen. It felt good to yank open the door and step into the peaceful morning.
The newspaper, rolled up and rubber-banded, sat on the far corner of the little porch. Lark song serenaded her as she padded across the sunny boards, breathing in the freshness. Overhead the canopy of leafy trees fluttered as they reached for the blue sky. The last lilac blooms of the season sent fragrance her way. She gripped the wooden rail and breathed it in.
Memories of being a girl playing beneath big skies and rolling hills rose up, reminding her of who she used to be. Who she was always meant to be. Darren’s betrayal, the jury’s decision and those years locked away behind bars had never been God’s plan for her. She could feel that on the touch of the wind against her face.
Colbie was right. She couldn’t let the past diminish her future. This was her life, the one God had given her. It was up to her to make the best of it, come what may. She’d been through hard times, but they didn’t have to keep holding her back. They didn’t have to determine who she would become. That was her choice.
“Brooke, is that you?” Madge Jones squinted from her flowerbed, extricating her morning paper from the rose bush where it had apparently fallen. “I hear you’re leaving on the bus in the morning. Lil says you got some fancy interview.”
“Not unless you call minimum wage fancy.”
“Too bad. I got another job all lined up for you. The neighbor on the other side of me has a biting Pekinese. Nearly took my toes off when I was over there.” She straightened, shook leaves off her paper and squinted. “Funny you haven’t asked me how Oscar and Liam are doing.”
“I, uh—” Words failed her. She shifted, ashamed, wondering how much Madge knew. Was she aware how hard she’d fallen for Liam? That no matter how hard she tried, the affection—no, time to be honest, Brooke—actually, love she felt would not end? It remained in broken pieces of her heart she could not fix. Did Madge know how she’d hurt him?
“His surgery’s this afternoon,” Madge went on. “Ridiculous if you ask me.”
“S-surgery?” The word tore from her. She tumbled down the steps, hardly breathing. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“As if taking in that dog wasn’t enough, now Liam’s got a vet bill.” Madge shook her head, the layer of concern in her voice gentling her words.
“It’s Oscar.” For a brief instant she’d thought it was Liam. That something had happened to him. She sagged against the handrail and sank onto the bottom step. Her pulse cannoned in her ears and boomed against her ribs. She covered her face with her hands, shaking hard.
“I don’t know what all that costs, but I can tell you, it’s a pretty penny.” Madge unwound the rubber band, tucked it into her apron pocket and shook out the newsprint. “Liam has been talking me into getting a little house dog, but after what he’s been through with that one, I put my foot down.”
“That’s not a little wistfulness I hear, is it?” She lowered her hands.
“Not even close.” But a little smile tugged at the corners. Madge frowned, attempting to hide it. Her gaze sharpened, all gentleness gone. Perhaps she knew what had happened after all.
“Is Oscar going to be okay?” She had to know. “Nothing terrible happened or you would have told me, right?”
“Oh, he has a tumor in his leg. Liam took him running last Saturday morning and the dog was limping afterward.” Madge inched closer, a woman on a mission. “Dr. Flynn took a look and did an ultrasound and a needle biopsy. They should get the lab results in a few days. Meanwhile, he’s scheduled for surgery this afternoon.”
“Poor Oscar.” She shook too hard to think of standing. Her heart broke all over again. She loved that dog. Absolutely, positively loved him. Tears prickled behind her eyes. A sob gathered in her throat.
“As I hear it, you were the one who noticed it in the first place.” Madge’s penetrating gaze didn’t stop, as if she were trying to say something with that look. “I suppose you’d want to stop by. Surgery starts at two o’clock. It’s the clinic off Vista Way. Oh, here come the twins driving up. I hope all goes well on the stand for Bree today. You tell her I’ll be praying for her.”
“I will. Thanks, Mrs. Jones.” She took a shaky breath, prayed her knees would hold her and pushed off the step.
Bree’s little pic
kup rumbled into the gravel parking strip, idling roughly. The engine sputtered to a stop, doors flung open and the twins popped out, ready for court. Bree looked so grown up in her dark suit and white blouse. Her heels wobbled in the grass until she made it to the walkway. Strong, lovely, mature. She seemed ready to take on the court and the entire world. “Brooke. We hate this is the last morning…”
“…we’ll be able to see you,” Brandi finished, circling around the far side of the pickup. Equally as lovely in trim trousers and a blue blouse, she hurried to catch up with her sister. “I don’t know how we’re going let you go tomorrow.”
“Neither do I.” She might as well admit it. Leaving was going to hurt. She held out her arms. “Group hug.”
“Group hug.” Colbie poked her nose out the door, gave the screen door a push and tumbled into the morning, spatula in hand. “Here’s to the McKaslin sisters. One for all and all for one.”
“Amen to that.” Brooke pulled her sisters close. The sun chose that moment to rise above the trees, casting them in a golden light. As if heaven shined down on them, too.
* * *
“You did a great job, Brianna.” The distinct attorney rose from his chair the moment the gavel hit. The closing arguments were done and the jury’s deliberation would begin. Handsome Austin Quinn managed a grave but hopeful twist to his mouth, somewhere between a frown and a grin. “You made a great difference today.”
“Oh, I think that’s what you did. I just told the truth.” Bree reached out to take Max’s hand and the way their gazes met spoke of everlasting love. With this hard episode behind her, Bree could look forward to planning her wedding. It was like sunshine after a storm, dawn after a long night and Brooke felt encouraged as she helped Colbie scoot Lil’s chair around in the aisle.
Was it her imagination or was Austin Quinn looking her way? Brooke glanced over her shoulder, bumped into Colbie and caught the district attorney’s head turning away fast. He’d been watching Colbie, she realized. Pretty and adorable Colbie. Her stomach sank as she watched Austin cross the courtroom, back straight, shoulders set. No doubt a lot of nice men noticed Colbie, but every one of them walked away.
