“Never make me fly halfway across the country after you again.”
“Would you?” she teased.
He pretended to glare, then flashed his dimples. “In a heartbeat.”
“Then I promise.”
“Good.” He stood, a little unsteadily, then followed her off the plane. “I wish I hadn’t told Amy I’d visit her this weekend. Then we could have driven from Boise.”
“It’s a long drive.”
“Worth it, though. You and me, the open highway.” He sang the opening line to Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again.”
Dani grinned widely. “I love that song.”
“Me too.”
“How long will you be in Richmond?”
“Only a couple of days. The invitation’s still open for you to come too.”
“I doubt Amy wants to meet me right now.”
“Probably true. Anyway, I’ll leave later today, drive till I get there. Come back Monday evening. Is that soon enough for you?”
“It’ll have to be. Though you know,” she teased, “you’d get there faster if you flew.”
“Not happening.” Brett pulled her close for a lingering kiss, then held onto her hand as they walked toward the office. “As soon as I settle the tab for this thing, we can be on our way.”
The kiss left Dani giddy with the happiness that had surrounded her since Brett had escorted her from the radio station.
They’d walked the city streets, then eaten supper in a local diner.
And they talked. Serious, no-holds-barred, vulnerable conversations.
She told him why she had followed him to the hospital, and how her longing for vengeance had faded as their friendship had deepened. He confessed his lie and told her about his meeting with Tracie.
As hurtful as it was, they also talked about the accident that had destroyed their childhoods. Brett had never questioned Sully’s version of the crash—why would he? But neither was he surprised to learn his grandfather had coerced authorities into a second investigation when the first cleared Leslie Mercer of any wrongdoing.
But that was the past. Though Brett promised to find out the truth, both he and Dani wanted to focus on the present. And the future.
Earlier this morning, they had sold her car, loaded her meager belongings onto the plane, and flown home.
Home.
The cottage was hers again for as long as she wanted. The job was hers again until the project was complete. Nothing had changed except the hidden places of their hearts. Those had been opened, revealed, and soothed. No more secrets, and no more sorrow that would mar their love for one another.
And she did love him. Madly. Wildly. Thoroughly. Just as she was assured he loved her.
After the boxes and luggage were moved to his Lexus and the pilot given a hefty tip, Brett pulled out his phone, looked at the screen, and grinned. “The little monsters know we’re back. They want us to stop at King Karl’s for pizza.”
Dani wrapped her arms around him and smiled. “It’s tradition.”
“How about we start our own tradition?”
Her heart skipped a beat as he flashed his gorgeous dimples, swung her around, and then soundly kissed her.
– 44 –
DECEMBER
Pristine snow covered the creek banks, sparkling like tiny diamonds beneath the winter sun. The fronds of the willow softly rustled, and their ends dipped into the chilled water. Brett’s boots crunched through the thin crust of snow and left their imprints behind. He inhaled the icy air, then exhaled a deep sigh of contentment. The winter wonderland was as beautiful as he’d hoped it would be.
Christmas was only days away, to be closely followed by AJ and Shelby’s wedding. Then they’d be ringing in the New Year with its promise of fresh starts and hopeful resolutions.
He didn’t need to wait till then. His fresh start had already begun.
Whenever he imagined a moment like this, the setting had been completely different. A romantic candlelight dinner in a five-star restaurant. Soft music. Impeccable service. He wore a fine suit and silk tie; the anonymous leggy blonde across from him looked glamorous in a skintight mini and strappy heels.
The reality, a brown-eyed brunette bundled into a thick jacket and mittens, crunched the snow beside him.
A mere slip of a girl who had spilled, snooped, and giggled her way deep into his heart.
And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
He cleared powdery snow from the top of the picnic table, then sat on it, his feet planted on the bench. “Sit by me?”
She settled beside him, wrapping her arms around his and burying her red-tipped nose in his sleeve.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A little. But it’s breathtaking out here.” She laughed softly. “Literally and figuratively.”
“Worth the hike?”
“Absolutely.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the solitude of the winter day. Brett glanced at Dani, barely visible beneath a scarlet-and-gray stocking cap, a souvenir from her first Ohio State Buckeyes football game.
In the months since they’d flown back from Boise, his world had turned right-side up again.
No, not again. For the first time ever.
Jonah had left the hospital walking on his own two feet, and the family—Brett, AJ, and Amy—plus Dani, Shelby, and the girls, had crowded into Meghan’s small apartment to celebrate. Amy brought presents for the children and behaved herself admirably with the adults. Aaron was there too, exchanging shy smiles with Meghan when they thought no one was looking.
Brett’s fifteen minutes of notorious fame flashed then burned without any of the drama Tracie had predicted. Instead he’d been lauded in the mainstream press for a generous donation to the children’s hospital for families in need. The timing may have been a bit calculated, but not the intent behind the gift.
Dani now had an official office in one of the upstairs rooms at the Misty Willow homestead, and a second room held potential display mock-ups, archival items, and the beginnings of a Civil War library. Once Shelby and the girls moved out of the house, it’d be transformed into the planned museum and research center. If all went well, the grand opening would take place a few months later with a daylong festival.
The past may have been rough and flawed, Brett mused, but the present was as fresh and pristine as the newly fallen snow. This was the perfect moment.
He reached into his backpack and drew out a book-sized package.
“I got you a gift,” he said.
Dani’s brown eyes sparkled. “What’s the occasion?”
“You’re here with me. That’s all I need.”
“You’re sweet.” She leaned forward for a quick kiss, then carefully loosened the broad pink ribbon. Finally she unwrapped the paper to reveal a mahogany box.
“Oh, how lovely.”
“Look inside.”
She opened the lid, and her eyes widened with delight. Pink tissue paper lined the box, and nestled inside was an engraved heart that read Dani + Brett.
She lifted the heart and stared at him, her mouth open.
Brett chuckled. “Shelby promised me a branch on the engagement tree.”
Dani gulped and cradled the heart. “We’re going to put this on the willow?”
“That depends.” He nudged Dani, and her lovely brown eyes gazed into his. “We’ve had a rough time of it, you and me. Scarred by our pasts. Finding it hard to love. But God gave us the chance to find a deeper love with each other than we’ve ever known before.”
He pulled a ring from his pocket and held it between his fingers.
“Sully shut this away because it symbolized something painful to him. But then you came along, and you didn’t see just a diamond. You saw beauty, and you saw a story.”
He paused for a moment, wanting to say the words exactly right.
“We may be imperfect. This diamond. Me.” He flashed a smile and tapped her nose. “Even you. But we’re better
together than we could ever be on our own. Together we’re imperfectly perfect.”
He pulled her upright, then got on one knee. The snow crunched, and an icy dampness chilled his jeans, but he didn’t mind. He gazed into the face of the woman he loved and thought only of her and his hopes for their future.
“Dannaleigh Christina Prescott. Please say you’ll marry me.”
Unshed tears glistened in Dani’s eyes, and the entire world seemed to pause as it waited for her answer.
“Yes,” she said as the tears graced her flushed cheeks. “I will.”
He removed her mitten, then slipped the diamond onto her finger. “We’re writing our own story,” he said as he stood and drew her into a lingering kiss.
A story of two lonely people brought together by a shared childhood tragedy who finally found their hearts in each other.
And a deeper love than they ever dared imagine.
The June sun beat on Gabe Kendall’s bare head and tapped into his childhood memories of the horse farm. He leaned his arms on the weathered fence and let his mind bask in the remembrance of long summer days under tranquil blue skies.
The pastures, lush and green. The paddock with its packed dirt circuit. The stables, once alive with the soft snuffles of contented horses and the familiar smells of oiled leather, and fresh hay, and good old-fashioned hard work.
Except for the glow of memory, nothing was the same.
The horse barn, the machine shed, even the nearby house were smaller than he remembered. Perhaps a consequence of seeing his uncle’s place for the first time with grown-up eyes. Or maybe his imagination had tricked him into thinking everything about the place was bigger. God knew he’d experienced too many nights when the only way he could lull himself to sleep was to conjure up happier times.
But the emptiness and the silence weren’t because of an adult perspective or the glow of childhood memory. A forlorn air hung over the place, heavy with regret and heartache.
If only Rusty were still alive. The fence would be white, the pasture grass pristine, the paddock graded smooth.
Except then he’d know what Gabe had done. And the knowledge would have killed him.
Soft footsteps approached behind him. “It’s not how you remembered. Is it?”
Aunt Tess stared into the distance. Her jet-black hair, evidence of her great-grandmother’s Native American heritage, held streaks of gray. She wore it plaited in one thick braid that nearly reached her waist.
“I should have been here.” He put his arm around her, pulling her into a sideways hug and breathing in her familiar scent. Charlie cologne. At least one thing hadn’t changed.
“You’re here now.” Her voice caught, but she quickly regained control. “I’d have visited you. If you’d let me.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You’re too full of pride. Just like your uncle.”
“I miss him.”
“So do I.” She flashed a smile. “But it’s nice having you here again. Just like old times.”
He pressed his lips together and slowly inhaled. In the past few years, he’d steeled himself against showing weakness. But a few kind words from his only uncle’s widow and he’d turn into a blubbering idiot if he wasn’t careful.
Time to change the subject.
“See you still have the truck.” He nodded toward the dusty two-tone Ford F-150 parked beside the detached garage. The once vivid red had faded, and the tan sides hadn’t fared much better. The dent where Gabe had accidentally hit a fence post still marred the rust-spotted fender. But hey, he’d only been twelve at the time.
“I kept it for you,” Tess said.
“You should have sold it.”
“Wasn’t mine to sell. Besides, it’s not worth much to anyone but you and me.”
“Rusty taught me to drive in that heap.”
“I remember. Your mom wasn’t too happy.”
“I think she just pretended to be mad.”
“Perhaps.” She squeezed his arm. “Look at you. So like Rusty when he was your age.”
“Except he never disgraced the family.”
“Neither have you.”
“You haven’t talked to my dad lately, have you?”
She avoided his gaze for a moment. When she turned toward him again, a warm smile brightened her face. “Come inside, and we’ll get you settled. Just took a batch of snickerdoodles out of the oven. Those still your favorite cookies?”
“Anything you bake is my favorite.”
“Let’s go then.”
Gabe hesitated, and her expression changed from puzzlement to understanding. “You want to ride.”
“It’s been a while since . . . you know.”
Since I’ve been on a horse. That’s what he meant to say. But the longing inside him ran deeper than the need to be in a saddle again. He craved the freedom, the solitude, of a long ride in fresh air and sunshine.
“Take Daisy. First stall on the left. She can use the exercise.”
“That land on the north side of Glade Creek still belong to you?”
“For now.” She sighed heavily. “That reminds me. I have this thing to go to tonight.”
“What thing?”
“A reception at the old Misty Willow homestead.”
Something niggled at his memory. A scandal of some sort. “Do the Sullivans still own that place?”
“No. And yes.” She chuckled. “Promise you’ll go with me, and I’ll catch you up on all the news after your ride.”
“You’ve got a date.” He headed for the barn, then turned and walked backward. “But I’m not wearing a tie.”
“You are so like your uncle.”
He’d always wanted to be. If only life hadn’t taken a different turn.
So this was the place.
Amy Somers clambered on top of the rustic picnic table and drank from her sports bottle. Normally she didn’t care for the taste of the vitamin-enriched water, but the long hike from the cottage had made her thirsty.
Sun pennies glinted on the creek’s broad surface, and long-stemmed cattails gathered in clumps along the bank. Wild daisies, purple clover, and Queen Anne’s lace rose from the grassy field. The ancient willow balanced on the edge of the creek, its elegant fronds dipping their ends into the sparkling water.
Family picnics took place here. Burgers and brats, potato salad and coleslaw followed by exhilarating games of tag, mostly futile attempts to catch fish, and restful catnaps.
At least that’s what she’d been told. She’d never been here before today.
Not that she hadn’t been invited. Staying away had simply been easier.
She sipped more water, then propped her slightly pink arms across her knees. Sunburn. Another joy of country living. A summer-scented breeze momentarily cooled her skin, and she added sunscreen to her mental shopping list.
The same breeze lifted the willow’s fronds so it appeared as if they danced beside the creek.
The misty willow. The engagement tree.
First AJ and then Brett had proposed to their respective brides in this quiet, peaceful, bug-ridden place. Her cousin, she understood. Like Gran, AJ preferred the rural community over the hustle and bustle of life in the big city.
But her brother had her flummoxed. Less than a year ago, Brett had been named one of the city’s top young professionals. His thriving business, inherited from their grandfather, was poised to become a major regional development firm. His future seemed golden.
Until he turned his back on all of it—the lucrative investment opportunities, his luxury apartment, Monday nights with the guys—and settled into a three-bedroom ranch up the road from the cottage. True, it had the most elegant upgrades of any ranch-style house in Glade County. Amy made sure of that, steering her sister-in-law to only the finest granite countertops, deluxe appliances, and high-end cabinetry during the rehab.
But it was still a house in the middle of nowhere among people who weren’t like the Somerses. People who didn’t
know the difference between a dessert spoon and a soup spoon. Who’d rather have barbecue and iced tea than filet mignon and a fine wine.
She swiped angrily at the tears that unexpectedly dampened her cheeks.
Brett and AJ were the only family she had, and now she’d lost them. They’d fallen in love, married, and lived within two miles of each other.
They thought she’d moved from Columbus to be closer to them. One big happy family. Didn’t they know her at all?
The truth . . . she could hardly bear to face the truth herself, let alone tell her brother and cousin. She’d already had enough of their pity.
Enough!
She started to scoot off the picnic table, then paused, her senses on full alert. Movement across the creek caught her attention. A chestnut horse ambled toward the bank, and the rider lifted his hand in a friendly wave.
Even in the middle of nowhere, she couldn’t find privacy.
Acknowledgments
My family and friends know so many things I don’t, and I’m grateful they’re willing to share their knowledge and know-how with me. Special thanks to the Alexander clan: Hebe, Adam, Tony, Ashley, Bryon, and Lauren. Thanks, too, to Windy Cobourne, Daniel and Danielle Giaquinto, Diana Huff Pitts, Karen Preskar, Dusty Ruth, Peggy Seaburn, and Tom Thacker.
A festive, confetti-sparkled thanks to the wise and witty Facebook friends who answer my odd questions. Your enthusiastic answers energize me and warm my heart.
After my discerning and opinionated first-reader team perused the manuscript, we talked about it over lunch at Panera in Lakeland, Florida. Thanks to Carol Anne Giaquinto, Bethany Jett, Joy Van Tassel, and Mandy Zema for creating that memory with me. (You know I love you!)
Hugs and prayers to my Kindred Hearts: Clella Camp, Karen Evans, Laura Groves, and Jean Wise.
Thanks also to the Imagine That! Writers: Patricia Bradley, Reneé Osborne, and Chandra Smith.
I’m grateful for my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, and my fantastic team at Revell: Vicki Crumpton, Kristin Kornoelje, Michele Misiak, Karen Steele, and Cheryl Van Andel.
Heart-deep appreciation goes to my mom, Audry Alexander, who blessed me with a love of reading and believed in me always.
When Love Arrives Page 31
