The Return of Brody McBride

by Jennifer Ryan

  * * *

  RAIN WOKE UP disoriented. The bright morning sun shining in her eyes, her tongue thick and dry. Brody sat beside her, his image shifted hazily, doubling, then returning to his normal, handsome form. He looked haggard, his face pale, dark circles marring the underside of his eyes. His cheek rested against his fist, his elbow propped on the arm of a chair as he watched her. When it registered she was looking back, he leaned forward and laid his hand on her shoulder.

  “Hey, honey.”

  “Hey yourself. Where are Dawn and Autumn?”

  “Outside in the hall with Pop. I didn’t want them to wake you up.”

  “What happened? Everything’s a little fuzzy.”

  “You have a mild concussion. They set your arm in a cast. You broke three bones in your hand. I need to teach you how to throw a proper punch.”

  “I did okay.” She defended herself. “Did you see Roxy’s face?”

  That got her a smile. Not a big one, but the corners of his mouth went up.

  “Yeah. She was screaming in the ER while they reset her nose and taped her up. She’s got two black eyes to go with it and a nasty bruise on her jaw.”

  “Did you see Autumn stomp on her foot?” Rain didn’t hold back the smile.

  “She got her good.” Brody let his pride show in his voice. “Her mama taught her well.”

  His fingertips slid from her shoulder over her chest to the bandage taped to her skin.

  “They put in eight stitches.” His voice grew husky with emotion.

  “How many did you get?”

  “None. The cut wasn’t so bad. It’ll heal. They cleaned it and put a bandage over it. It’ll leave a scar, but hey, you love my scars.”

  That made her smile. “I love you,” she corrected.

  “I love you, too.” He dropped his head and shook it. “I almost lost you yesterday.”

  “You saved me yesterday,” she disagreed. “Thank you, Brody, for rescuing me.”

  “I was almost too late.”

  “Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” she teased.

  “Don’t remind me.” He combed his fingers through his already disheveled hair and stared at her. “I got lost again. They took Autumn, and I fell into a nightmare. Dawn was screaming for me to get Autumn back, but I didn’t hear her until it was too late.”

  His head fell forward and rested on the bed beside her. She buried her fingers in his hair.

  “Brody, it’s not your fault.”

  “I called the psychiatrist last night. We had a long talk. He thinks now that this is settled, I’ll be better able to cope without all this stress in my life. We’ll have regular appointments three days a week until I can cope better.

  “When you screamed for help and I saw you lying there . . .”

  “I yelled for you because I was afraid you’d kill that guy, and they’d take you away from me.”

  “I lost it when I saw him with that knife, trying to kill you.”

  “What happened with the police and Dylan?”

  “Roxy’s boyfriend has been charged with aggravated assault, a felony. He’ll go to jail. As for the kidnapping, it’s a gray area the prosecutor is trying to sort out. Roxy is the biological mother. We don’t have any papers specifying any kind of custody arrangements. Owen is working a deal. He’ll try to get Roxy to sign the papers relinquishing her rights to have all charges dropped against her and the boyfriend for taking Autumn. Technically, Autumn was living with me, her father, so Roxy didn’t really have a right to take her without my permission or knowledge. At least, that’s the case Owen is building.

  “We have something else on our side. Don’t go ballistic.”

  “What?” she asked, concerned.

  “They charged Roxy with child abuse. She hit Dawn.”

  “What?” Rain exploded and tried to sit up. Brody held her down. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Roxy slapped her, left a bruise on her face. She also shoved her pretty hard and made her fall and scrape up her knees.”

  “Oh God, Brody. Bring her in here.”

  “In a minute. They’re both fine. Owen and Pop have stayed with them every minute.”

  The door opened and Owen walked in smiling, wearing a suit, and carrying his briefcase.

  “Hi, beautiful. How are you feeling?”

  “Great if you tell me Roxy is behind bars.”

  “She’s being released as we speak. Sorry.”

  “Explain,” Brody demanded.

  The smile on his face spoke volumes. Things had finally gone their way.

  “She signed the papers. Autumn is yours. She also agreed to sell the bar to you, Brody. I’ve agreed to settle her debts, pay for the liquor license renewal, and give her a cash settlement on your behalf.”

  “How much?” Rain asked.

  “After the payments for the bar, she’ll get one hundred thousand. It’s what Brody agreed to pay her if she signed the papers and left town for good. Just to get the point across, I’ve taken out a restraining order. She’s not to go within one hundred yards of any of you, including Dawn.

  “She’ll be gone tomorrow. Robert, the boyfriend, will remain behind bars. He’s got an arrest warrant in Nevada for possession with intent to sell. He’ll be prosecuted and serve time for both charges as well as the new charges for assaulting you.”

  “So, it’s over,” Rain said, unable to believe they’d finally gotten Roxy out of their lives.

  “Not quite.” Owen opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder. “You need to sign these. I’ll file them with the courts at the same time I file the papers Roxy signed.”

  “What are these?” Rain asked.

  “The adoption papers. It’ll take a few months to finalize, but once it goes through, Autumn will be your daughter legally.” Owen handed her a pen to sign the papers marked by little red arrow tabs.

  Rain locked eyes with Brody, her broken hand poised over the papers, ready to sign. He brushed his fingers over her hair and leaned down and kissed her forehead.

  “She’s your daughter, honey. Sign the papers.”

  Rain reached up and touched her fingertips to his chest over his heart. The cast prevented her from laying her palm flat. “She’s our daughter.”

  Rain signed the papers. Finished. Over. Finally, they could be a family.

  “You know, my daughters have a different last name than me.”

  She hoped Brody would take the hint and hurry up about asking her to marry him. Impatient to be his wife, she pushed. “Do you have a wedding license application in there, too, Owen?” she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice.

  “I didn’t ask you yet,” Brody teased. “But I will.” Her eyes danced as he grinned at her. Yes, he would ask, and when he did he’d get it absolutely, perfectly right.

  Look out, there are more McBride men to come!

  Next up: bad boy turned lawyer, Owen McBride.

  FALLING FOR OWEN

  Book Two: The McBrides

  Coming April 2014

  From Avon Impulse

  Continue reading for a sneak peek!

  An Excerpt from

  FALLING FOR OWEN

  OWEN WOKE OUT of a restless sleep the second the phone rang. The clock read twelve forty-seven. Good news never came this late at night. He hoped this didn’t have anything to do with Shannon, his trouble-prone client. He wished he knew why women stayed in bad situations instead of walking away and never looking back. Shannon had a tendency to waffle under pressure. She’d given her husband far too many chances to prove he wasn’t worth a single one of them.

  He hoped she hadn’t listened to whatever sob story Dale conjured to illicit her sympathy, only to draw her in close again. Close enough to hurt her.

  Owen grabbed the phone on the second ring. “McBride.”

  “Owen, are you okay? He said he hurt you. You have to be all right. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

  The last part set off an alarm in his head.
Wasn’t the first time she’d set it off either.

  “Shannon, slow down. What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

  “Dale. He came by, drunk and belligerent as always. Yelling about seeing us together and you taking me away from him.”

  Owen raked his fingers through his hair and sat up on the side of the bed, naked and frustrated. Mostly because his bed was empty, but also because his client’s never-ending saga with her ex-husband continued to drag him into her life. He cared about all his clients in some respect, but she’d taken the job he did and the protection it provided her and made it into something more. She’d never quite crossed the line and pushed him for anything, but her reliance on him grew more and more each time they met. He needed some space. The last thing he needed was someone else’s drama mucking up his life.

  “Where is he now?”

  “He left when I refused to open the door and threatened to call the cops.”

  Well, at least she’d gotten that part right this time. In the past, she had opened the door and gotten yelled at and worse. She’d seen the inside of an emergency room more times than he’d like to count because of her ex.

  “Good job. Never open the door to him. He disobeyed the restraining order. I’ll contact the police and let them know.”

  “So, he didn’t hurt your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  Her audible exhale of relief sent up another red flag. Still, he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. He hadn’t dated anyone in nearly a year. God, had it been that long. His many restless nights confirmed the unhappy truth.

  Another call came in on his line. “Hold on, Shannon. I’ve got another call.”

  “Um, okay.”

  He clicked the TALK button to switch lines. “McBride.”

  “Owen, it’s Dylan.”

  Sheriff Dylan McBride to be exact. His cousin had moved back to town recently with his adopted son. The late-night call probably meant more trouble.

  “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  “I’m looking for a guy about five-eleven says you slept with his wife. Know who I’m talking about?”

  Owen swore. “Dale Monoghan. Released from prison about a month ago. Spent those weeks of freedom stalking and harassing my client. Skipped out on the halfway house two days after moving in and has been MIA ever since. My client is on the other line. Dale just left her place spouting off about hurting me and my girlfriend, though I’m not seeing anyone. I’d appreciate it if you sent someone to her place to make sure he’s left and she’s in one piece.”

  “I’ll send an officer right away. We’ve got a problem with your name on it at the Walsh place down the road from you. Miss Walsh confronted a trespasser. Your guy is up for a hit-and-run charge and some other misdemeanors. Can you come down and answer some questions?”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Banged up, but nothing major.”

  Owen swore and raked his hand through his hair again. The thought of someone hurting the quiet, beautiful woman pissed him off. His stomach tied in knots. His mind conjured one terrible image after another. He hated to think of her hurt and frightened.

  He’d never met his long-distance neighbor, but he’d seen her several times in her yard when he stopped near her place to get his mail. Waving “hey” in passing and placing his order at her shop was the extent of their conversations. He took his nieces into her place once in a while. They loved it. He liked looking at her. He might have asked her out, but she’d always had this off-limits vibe about her, even if she did stare at him sometimes with this odd look about her.

  Looks like he’d at least get an introduction tonight, though he didn’t think she’d be happy to meet him if his client’s ex caused her trouble and hurt her. Damn the drunk asshole.

  “On my way,” Owen said, putting action to words and grabbing his jeans. “Send a deputy over to 214 Walnut Road. I’ll let my client know they’ll be there soon.”

  He switched lines and slid his legs into the jeans. He grabbed a long-sleeve shirt out of the dresser.

  “Shannon, I’ve asked the police to come and check on you. Dale harassed a woman and hit her with his car. If he comes back before they get there, do not open the door.”

  “Oh my God. Is the woman okay?”

  “I don’t know. I have to go see. Do not open the door to anyone but the cops. I’ll speak to you later.”

  He hung up and tossed the phone on his rumpled bed. Socks on, he grabbed his boots and stuffed his feet inside and ran down the stairs, grabbing his keys as he headed out the door to his truck. He jumped inside, started it up, and punched the gas, nervous and anxious to get to his neighbor’s place.

  Owen’s truck slid to a stop in the driveway behind two sheriff cars and the ambulance. The paramedics’ presence sent an ominous chill up his back. He had no idea how bad the woman had been hurt, but the thought of even one mark on her sent a shaft of guilt through his system. He should have done more to keep Dale behind bars longer.

  The headlights and porch lights lit his way around the ambulance to the walkway where the paramedics kneeled next to a blonde, her head bent to her chest as they worked on her feet. Propped on a gurney, her feet bled from multiple cuts. Owen ignored the looks from the deputy and his cousin, Dylan, and went directly to the woman. Kneeling beside her, he cupped her cheek in his palm and asked, “Are you okay?”

  Like slow motion, her face rose up and her eyes met his and he fell into their green depths and felt something shift inside his chest. The taut band that took hold of him with the call pulled tighter and stopped his breath. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. She shook and trembled under his hand, but she didn’t speak.

  “Hey now, you’re okay. It’s going to be fine. Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “We need to talk,” Dylan said.

  Owen gave the woman a smile, despite the circumstances and the lead weight in his gut.

  “Wish you could slap the cuffs on me this time?”

  “It’d be fun. For me. Why, feeling nostalgic?”

  “No. What happened?” Reluctantly, he stood and faced Dylan and this mess head on. He stayed right beside the woman. Drawn to her, the urge to protect her kept him rooted to his spot beside her. He wanted to touch her again, offer up some kind of comfort, but refrained, willing himself to be calm and act rationally and not touch a stranger like she was his best friend. And more.

  “Claire . . .”

  Claire. Pretty name.

  “Heard a noise outside and came down to investigate. A man, five-eleven with dark hair, appeared at the back door, where he’d broken several flowerpots and fell over drunk. She went out to find out what the hell was going on. They exchanged words, and he threw a chair through the glass doors.” Dylan indicated he look through the open front door, straight back to the chair lying on its side on the dining table.

  “The description fits Dale, but how did you know this has to do with me?”

  “The guy, Dale, threatened to hurt her to make you pay for sleeping with his wife.”

  “I am not, nor have I ever slept with his wife. She’s a client. Let’s get that straight right now. I represented her in the divorce and helped put him behind bars for hurting her.”

  He didn’t know why he felt the need to defend himself so vehemently. He didn’t want Dylan thinking he slept with his clients. On second thought, he didn’t give a shit what Dylan thought. He didn’t want Claire thinking he would do something like that, or that he was dating anyone.

  Why did it matter so much? He barely knew her. Still, something compelled him to make the clarification.

  Which is probably why he looked her right in the eye when he made the statement. He shot Dylan a cold glare. His cousin hid a smirk that set off Owen’s temper even more.

  “How long have you known Claire?” Dylan asked, a note of suspicion in the simple question.

  “I don’t. Not really. I’ve seen her in passing from
the road when I grab my mail and at her shop in town.”

  “He brings the girls in sometimes,” Claire said from beside him. Hearing her voice, so soft and timid, made his gut tighten.

  “How is Rain?” Dylan asked.

  “She’s great.”

  “And happy Brody is back in town. I haven’t seen them in a while, I’ll have to stop by and catch up. He’s another reformed troublemaker.”

  Dylan had the luxury of growing up with a father who loved him and did right by him. His and Brody’s uncle wasn’t a drunk. No, he lived a good life with his wife and son and worked hard. They were well off, while he and Brody scraped by all their lives with their alcoholic father.

  Where Dylan grew up the high school all-star, he and Brody had been the outcast troublemakers. Well, things changed.

  “We’re not cocky punks anymore. Aside from growing up, we took our lumps and learned our lessons. It’s been a long time since I trespassed on Ms. Firths’s property to fish in her pond.” One of his many smaller transgressions. “Now, tell me why Dale attacked Claire for no good reason.”

  “He thinks you’re having an affair with his wife,” Claire explained, drawing his attention once again.

  He bent next to her and gave her his full attention. “What did he say to you?”

  “He wanted to know where my husband is. I told him my ex doesn’t live here, and he said he saw him drive by in his truck. I knew at that point he didn’t mean my ex, but you. I tried to tell him he had the wrong person, but he swore he’d get back at you and he’d hurt me to do it.”

  She drifted off for a moment, so he brushed his fingers up and down her arm to draw her attention.

  “My head hurts,” she whispered, her eyes going soft and distant again.

  “She hit her head on the pavement after he hit her with the car,” Dylan explained. “Knocked her out for a couple of minutes.”

  “Honey, you need to go to the hospital. You probably have a concussion.”

  “We’re taking her for stitches and to get her head examined in a few minutes,” the paramedics confirmed.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Why?” Claire asked.