Circle on Home (Lost in a Boom Town Book 5)

by MJ Fredrick

  Circle on Home

  MJ Fredrick

  Copyright 2016

  Mary Fechter

  DEDICATION

  For my mom

  You are the best example any woman could have.

  Prologue

  July

  Miranda Bonner strolled the square of Evansville, Texas, beneath the red, white and blue banners that hung from the streetlights and storefronts. Her hometown, the one she couldn't wait to get away from when she was younger, now held so much charm.

  She had traveled around the world, had lived in New York City, London, Rio, but something about Evansville…

  Maybe it was the obvious changes—the new store on the corner, the Sagebrush Saloon, the newly finished Sagebrush Inn, the beauty salon. Everything felt fresh and revitalized. And everyone was friendly, everyone knew her name and made a point of greeting her. What had been overwhelming and intrusive when she was younger felt warm and homey now.

  Then her past walked right in front of her. She took a step back on her heel as she looked at Noah Braun, the boy she’d walked away from when she was eighteen and eager to shake the dust from her shoes. A boy no longer, his shoulders had grown broader, stretched out his cotton snap-front shirt. His dark hair, which he’d worn to his shoulders in high school, now brushed the collar of his shirt, and curled all over, in loops she’d love to run her fingers through.

  She closed her hands into fists at the totally inappropriate though. She was with Damian now, though he’d stayed in New York for this trip. She knew he’d be bored, and dismissive of the small-town vibe.

  Maybe the absence of his disdain was why she was enjoying this visit so much.

  The disloyal thought made her tighten her fists further. But she was more relaxed, not having to worry if Damian was bored with the slow pace and the limited activities, not worrying if he was annoyed by her mother and sister’s constant chatter. She was actually enjoying spending time with her family instead of feeling torn in two directions.

  Though the sight of Noah was putting her on edge again. She eased back, so he wouldn't see her, and she could watch him. He bent his head toward his younger sister, Selena, who was about half his size, her round face tilted toward him, excitement etched in every feature. Miranda’s heart squeezed. Noah had always been particularly tender to his baby sister, who had Down’s Syndrome. Seeing him the same way, after all his family had been through, fourteen years later, warmed her heart.

  Then he looked up and saw her, as if he’d known she was there the whole time. She sucked in a breath at the heat in his gold-flecked brown eyes, which banked quickly when she was too shocked to do more than stare. Or maybe it was because he remembered she’d run away when he needed her most.

  “Miranda.”

  “Hi, Noah.” She did smile, then, when she turned to Selena. “Hi, Selena. Do you remember me?”

  The younger woman’s face brightened even more, and she enveloped Miranda in an enthusiastic hug.

  “Miranda!”

  She smelled the same, and Miranda didn't know why that surprised her. She curled her arms around the girl and bent her head. She had missed the girl, with her generous heart and her sweet smile. She’d always been amazed by how Selena kept positive, despite the turmoil of her home life. Noah had shielded her from most of the drama, but Miranda supposed he didn't have to do that anymore.

  She loosened her hold on Selena and looked up at Noah. His eyes had lost any warmth they’d had when he’d first seen her.

  “I didn't expect to see you here,” he said.

  “I just came down for the week.”

  “Where are you now? Last I heard, London.”

  That had been over five years ago. She brushed aside the annoyance that he hadn't kept up with the gossip. “I’m in New York.”

  “Practicing law?”

  “Yes.”

  His gaze flicked to her left hand, and a pulse of heat rolled through her. Was he checking to see if she was married?

  “Like it?”

  A moment passed before she realized he was asking about her job. “Yes, I like it.” Did she, though? “I’m doing corporate law.”

  His lips thinned. “Not exactly what you dreamed of doing.”

  No, she hadn't started out wanting to be a lawyer, but she’d found she was good at it. And it was nice not to worry about money. Sure, she worked long hours and she hated most of her clients, but she was talented and in demand, and that was rewarding.

  Selena was getting restless and looking around, wanting to move on, but Miranda wasn't ready to end the conversation yet. “And you? You like being a vet?”

  His face didn't reflect any surprise that she knew what he did. “Yeah, you know. Always knew what I want.” And his eyes told her that he’d wanted her. She knew that, knew she’d broken his heart when she walked away, but she’d had to save herself.

  She had been young and desperate, and not strong enough to stand by his side.

  She wanted to ask about his dad, but here in the middle of the town square probably wasn't the place.

  “I’m—going to take Selena to ride the Tilt-a-Whirl,” he said, gesturing to the ride set up in front of the courthouse.

  She understood that he was dismissing her and she stepped back to let them walk away. But the rest of the day, she was aware of him, watching him watch his sister ride the rides, buying her cotton candy, wondering what might have been if she’d stayed.

  She’d be a different person, that was for sure. Maybe she’d have big hair and wear blinged-out clothes, she wouldn't be a lawyer, or at least not a successful one.

  But she’d be waking up every morning in that man’s bed.

  Would they have kids? Would he be watching them with the same peaceful expression that he watched Selena?

  Okay, maybe coming home had been a bad idea. She didn't want to have these what-if fantasies about an old love. She had a good life.

  Chapter One

  November

  Early morning sunlight glinted off of the metal bus that swayed on its way down the pitted dirt road. Every now and then the plume of dust billowing in its wake would swirl forward to obscure it from his view, but Noah Braun knew it was coming, bringing his father home after fourteen years. He set his coffee cup down on the kitchen counter and stepped out onto the front porch to meet him.

  Through the screen door he heard his brother Ben stumble out of his room and into the bathroom. He didn’t bother closing the door as he relieved himself, didn’t wash his hands once he was done. He was long past the age of scolding, but Noah found himself biting back a remark as he watched the bus move closer, gliding silently across the dusty landscape.

  He could hear Ben slamming around in the kitchen, though, going through cabinets like he didn’t know where the coffee mugs were. He was probably trying to wake their sister Selena, just to piss Noah off.

  Ben hadn’t been a joy to be around since he got laid off from the oil fields, and their father’s release from prison made him downright ill-tempered. Noah could think of no words strong enough to describe Ben since he’d found out their father was coming home, and he held Noah responsible for bringing him here.

  “You got the place cleaned up pretty nice for the old man,” Ben said through the screen, his voice rough with sleep and drink. “Almost like you’re glad to see him.”

  “I’m not fighting with you about this,” Noah said, his voice pitched low, weariness weighing him down. Seemed like they’d done nothing but fight since they got the letter from the Department of Corrections telling them their father qualified for early release because of model behavior, despite the fact that he’d killed a family
of four, and their mother, while driving drunk Noah’s senior year of high school. “This is his home. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “He’s just going to screw it up again, and make us all miserable in the process. Don’t you remember anything about growing up with the man?”

  As the oldest, he should remember the most, but he’d blocked a lot of it out, the yelling, the drunken binges, the hitting.

  “If we keep the booze away,” Noah reasoned.

  “Just another reason to welcome him home with open arms,” Ben said with an empty laugh.

  “It wouldn’t hurt for you to cut back.”

  “Yeah, well.” Ben raised his coffee cup to his mouth, blew on the steaming liquid. “We can’t all be saints like you.”

  Saint. Like he had a choice. As the oldest, he had to be the strongest, now and fourteen years ago.

  The bus’s brakes engaged with a blast of dust as it slowed at the end of their long driveway. Grateful for small favors, Noah figured at least out here in the middle of nowhere, they wouldn’t have a ton of nosy neighbors watching their reunion.

  He’d considered walking out to meet the bus, had pictured himself doing it, but couldn’t bring himself to take the first step. He and Ben stood stock still as the doors of the bus slid open with a release of air, hell, probably the only air for miles. God knew he couldn’t breathe.

  Rey Braun stepped down on unsteady legs, a shadow of the man he’d been, the big man who’d once awed his sons, the man who’d laughed and loved with the same passion with which he drank and fought.

  Noah remembered the man who’d tossed him in the air with white teeth gleaming in his brown face, his long black hair gleaming in the Texas sun. He remembered the man who’d held him on his first horse, the man who’d kissed his mother with all the passion in his heart, who’d hit her the same way.

  Now his once muscular frame was bent and scrawny, making him smaller than either Noah or Ben, his hair shorn and liberally sprinkled with gray. He shuffled a few steps away from the bus after the door closed, his head lowered, then he looked up at the old Victorian house, which he’d moved out here over thirty years ago.

  Noah stepped off the porch into the sunlight, yards of dirt and fourteen years still separating him from his father.

  “Welcome home, Dad.”

  His father’s eyes, dark and flat, turned to him. “You have a room for me?”

  Noah couldn't interpret the look, or the tone, when he’d been so good at deciphering his father’s moods before. That had been a matter of survival. He was going to have to learn them again, and fast, because he didn't doubt it would become a matter of survival again. And Selena, who had grown up in a house of brothers who loved her, a town who loved her and looked out for her, wouldn't know how to deal with their father’s anger.

  “You have a room,” Noah replied. He’d moved into the master bedroom when he’d gotten back from college, and had no plans of moving out. Selena and Ben each had their own room, so their father would be sleeping in the make-shift bedroom that had been the screen porch. If they’d had more advance notice, Noah might have had a room added on. But they’d only known a few weeks that he was coming home, and well, they had to make do.

  He motioned to his father to follow him into the house, wondered what it was like for his father to walk into the house he’d last walked out of in cuffs. He tried to look at the place from his father’s point of view. The clutter, the walls in need of paint, the couches covered with blankets. Ben had bought the couches and the big TV when he was making money hand over fist in the oilfields, but the rest of the house, well, it suffered from the neglect of being cared for by two men who had spent more time making money than keeping house, and a young woman with Down’s Syndrome who did her best to make up for their shortcomings.

  He wanted to hide his sister away until he knew how his father’s behavior had changed. If it had. Selena’s disability had always pissed his father off, always, and he’d blamed it on their mother. Noah couldn't remember if his father had beaten his mother before Selena was born, but he’d beaten the shit out of her after. One of Noah’s biggest regrets was that he hadn't been brave enough to protect his mother. Once he’d gotten bigger, he’d step between them, and when he was home, their father hadn't hit her as much.

  Just killed her when he’d run off the road while driving drunk, taking another family with her, while the old man walked away.

  Noah’s chest tightened. And he’d brought this man back into his home.

  “Here’s your room,” Noah said, resisting the urge to apologize for the makeshift room. They’d added insulation to the room, and quick plywood walls to cover all but two windows. They’d added a bed and a dresser and curtains to give him privacy. He didn't have a closet but he couldn't have that much stuff after being in prison. Noah wished he’d built a bathroom. The less he had to see of the old man, the better for all of them.

  He was surprised his father didn't walk into the room and close the door behind him. Instead, he put down his small knapsack and turned to face his sons. Ben hadn't said a word.

  “Where’s your sister?” his father asked in a voice rough with disuse.

  “In her room.”

  “I would like to see her.”

  “Ah. We thought we’d get you settled in first.”

  His father squared his shoulders, no longer as imposing as they used to be. “Is she all right? Does she know I’m coming home?”

  “She doesn't remember you,” Noah said. She’d been nine when she lost her parents.

  He watched his father’s reaction, but there was only a thinning of his lips, not an accusation that Noah had never brought her to the prison to see him. Not an accusation that Noah and Ben had never come themselves.

  “Are you going to hide her from me?”

  Noah would not let his father goad him. “You’ll see her at dinner.” He took a step back. “I’ll be back—I have some animals to check on.” He glanced at his brother, who stood with his hands clenched at his sides. “Ben, you going to see about dinner?”

  Ben made a sound, but turned away and toward the kitchen.

  Their father grunted and turned into the room. Noah hated that he felt a weight roll off of him as he walked out the door and down to the barn.

  He had some animals he’d brought here to keep a closer eye on, and he checked on the two horses and the heifer. Usually he didn't keep animals on his property, but he knew with his father home that he wouldn't be able to go on emergency calls. He thought he might have to spend the night in the barn to keep an eye on the mare, who had a foot infection.

  Right now he was grateful it gave him a reason to escape the house, though he felt guilty at the same time. The guilt had him moving a little faster than he might have ordinarily done and headed back to the house.

  He was stunned to walk back into the kitchen to see his father sitting at the table with Selena as Ben turned pork chops in the skillet on the stove. His father’s expression was….peaceful. At least that was Noah’s interpretation. He’d never seen that expression on his father’s face. He was listening to his daughter as she chattered. Noah wondered if she even knew who she was talking to. He placed a fond hand on his sister’s shoulder and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

  Selena carried most of the conversation during dinner, talking about her job at the Coyote Moon Bar and Grill, where she bussed tables. She was treated so well that Noah, who’d spent his life protecting her, didn't think twice about dropping her off at work. And she liked it, liked seeing the people and liked feeling useful. She kept up with the gossip better than he thought she might.

  He wondered for a moment if his dad might find a job there, too, but dismissed the idea. The Coyote served alcohol, and that went against the terms of Rey’s parole.

  He was going to have to find a job somewhere, and Noah didn't think the oilfields were hiring, not unskilled labor, anyway.

  He wasn't going to worry about that now. He started to
relax at the dinner table, until Ben got up to get a beer out of the refrigerator.

  Damn it, he’d told Ben to get rid of the beer, not wanting it around his father to tempt him. He and his father both stiffened as Ben tossed the cap onto the table and dropped back into his chair. He lifted the bottle to his lips and met Noah’s gaze. Noah saw the defiance there even as Ben tilted his head back to take a swig.

  Great. He was daring his father to become a crazy drunk again, maybe take his aggression out on Selena this time. What an idiot. He’d see to the beer himself once dinner was done, if he had to pour it down the sink in front of all of them.

  When he didn't react, Ben set the half-empty bottle on the table with enough force to make it foam.

  “I’m going into town.”

  Noah’s stomach tightened. Ben was a grown man and old enough to know not to drink and drive, but he was acting irrationally with their father home. He didn't want his brother to do something stupid just because he was pissed off. But he knew Ben well enough to know he would do the opposite of whatever Noah said to him right now. So Noah kept his mouth shut.

  Once Ben left, Noah rose to clean the kitchen as usual, and Selena stepped up to help him.

  “Why don't you take Dad out on the porch with some iced tea?” he suggested. As much as his gut wanted to keep them apart, they were all living in the same house. The two of them needed to get to know each other, to spend time together.

  He wished he could he could feel close enough to his father to take him to the barn to show him the animals, show him what he knew how to do now, but all he could hear was his father bitching when he’d brought home another cat or dog to tend, “another mouth to feed.”

  Part of him wanted so badly to show his father what he’d made of himself, but the greater part couldn't allow him to do it. He’d never felt comfortable in his father’s presence. He wondered why he thought he could start now.