“It doesn’t matter what I do, things were bound to change. I want to turn back time to when things were simpler. But I can’t, can I?” Tears gone, Brooke groaned and began to pack her things away, leaving the two art books out on her bed. “Should I search for somewhere different to work? God, a little direction would be nice. I’d love to know what I’m supposed to do now.”
Chapter Eleven
Brooke did her best not to flinch when the nurse approached her with a small set of scissors. The nurse snipped the first of the five stitches and used tweezers to gently tug it loose from her skin.
She hadn’t realized how nervous she was until Chess placed a strong hand on her shoulder. She released the death grip she’d had on the edge of the table, her knuckles white. Even with everything going on between them, Brooke was grateful she didn’t have to go to the appointment alone. She released a nervous laugh. “I’m glad I wasn’t awake when you put these in.”
The nurse chuckled. “They’re certainly a lot easier to get out, that’s for sure.” She clipped the next stitch and removed it. “Three more to go. The skin is healing nicely.”
Chess rubbed a calming thumb over her shoulder. The motion succeeded in taking her focus off what the nurse was doing. She concentrated on the way the heat from his hand seeped through her sleeve to warm her skin.
Once the last of the stitches had been discarded, Brooke released a sigh of relief. As far as she was concerned, the worst was over.
The nurse cleaned off the little table and threw several things away. “You can shower normally now. I still recommend putting antibiotic cream on it for another week to help as it continues to heal.”
Brooke nodded, touching the area gingerly with a finger. “It’s already much better. Thank you.”
Chess helped her stand. Her ribs, on the other hand, still ached frequently, and she got sharp pains if she moved too much or breathed in too deeply. She’d searched for it online and apparently, it could take up to six weeks for them to heal completely. Hopefully she’d feel more improvement much sooner than that. They walked out to his truck, and he took her home.
Brooke was all too aware that Chess would no longer be by the house daily now that her stitches had been removed. She fought back the sadness as he helped her to the couch and then brought her a bottle of her favorite soda from the fridge. “You seem to be feeling a lot better today. Your cheeks have more color.”
Brooke smiled her thanks. She opened the soda and took a drink as he joined her. “I do, thank you.” She held up the bottle. “And thanks for this, too.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced at her sketchbooks on the coffee table.
She’d had them out earlier, thumbing through the images to help pass the long afternoon. It made her feel closer to Mama and Auntie. She’d meant to put those away before Chess arrived and cringed as he reached for her mom’s. He flipped it open and took in the different images. “Wow, these are good. Did you draw these?”
“No, my mom did.” Brooke gulped when he paused at the drawing of her stirring batter on the counter. “That’s me.”
He lightly touched the face of the carefree girl. “You were an adorable little girl. I see you loved to cook even back then.”
“I was her shadow. I wanted to either watch or help no matter what Mama was doing. She must have had the patience of a saint.” She gave a quiet laugh. Those memories were what she hoped to replicate with her own child one day.
Brooke’s breath caught when he looked up at her and smiled. He motioned toward the other book. “What’s that one?”
“Those are some of my drawings before I went into foster care.” She knew he’d trade books and resisted the urge to grab it before he could. Her face heated up as he slowly browsed the drawings.
Chess nudged her arm with his. “These are amazing. You were what, like seven? You have a true gift.”
She tried to ignore the zap of electricity at his touch. Just when she thought things were getting better in that department. “Had. It was a long time ago.”
He turned his body to face her. “So?” He tapped one of the sketches. “You should draw again.”
Brooke shrugged and stared down at her hand where she was picking at the hem of her shirt. Chess surprised her by gently kicking her foot with his own. The motion brought her gaze up to meet his.
“You’ve always been bad about representing your worth, Brooke. You are one of the kindest, smartest, most capable people I’ve ever known.” He reached a hand toward her before bringing it back to his side. “I wish you could see yourself the way I...”
She couldn’t look away from his eyes. His expression morphed from puzzled to conflicted. What was he thinking? What she didn’t need was for him to see how much he’d affected her. Poor, pathetic Brooke couldn’t get over the silly crush she had on the guy who was supposed to be her big brother.
Yeah, she’d never seen him that way. Not even back in the beginning. It’d been a little more like hero worship then. Now?
The way Chess was watching her made her heart hammer painfully against her ribs.
She was in love with him. Brooke knew she cared for him. But love? The realization only sent the butterflies careening even more madly in her belly.
What did that make her? A pathetic mess. Because Chess had made it clear he didn’t feel that way about her. Brooke took the sketchbook from him and held it in her lap, needing a shield between them.
“Brooke.” She didn’t respond, and he tentatively touched her arm. “Are you okay? If I embarrassed you about your art, I didn’t mean to.”
Brooke shook her head. “I’m sure I’m just tired.”
Chess studied her face and seemed anything but convinced. “I know things have been hard lately. I hope you still consider me a friend.”
She nodded. “Of course. Friends.” She tried her best to give him a normal smile, but wasn’t sure she’d succeeded. “You know me. I’ve always messed up when it comes to guys. I can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted to take back what I said to you and everything could go back to the way it was before. You and I weren’t all that close…” She paused, willing herself to not get emotional. “But I still miss the way we were. It was easier that way.”
~
Chess flinched at Brooke’s words. He’d always been careful to keep that boundary up between himself and her. He’d needed to. But it bothered him to know she’d had feelings for him and hadn’t felt free to voice them. He didn’t blame her. And when she had, he’d pushed her away. He was lucky she still spoke with him at all right now. She didn’t think they were that close before, and he was the one to blame. Was he partially at fault for how insecure she was about herself? The possibility didn’t sit well with him.
She might wish things were back to the way they were before. But he didn’t. In fact, he felt closer to Brooke now more than ever, and he didn’t want to give that up. Was that selfish? Maybe.
“I’m not good with expressing my emotions, Brooke. I was never one of those kids who wore his heart on his sleeve.” He reached for her sketchbook and placed it on the coffee table. “You are one of the most important people in my life. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that isn’t true.”
Brooke bit her bottom lip as tears filled her eyes.
“Don’t doubt your self-worth, girl. Not ever. You hear me?” A sudden need to kiss her came out of nowhere. Chess had to quit putting himself in these positions where he was much closer to Brooke than he should be.
She nodded, and a single tear escaped to flow down her cheek. He wanted to brush it away but instead, he stood and pulled a tissue from the box on the counter. He handed it to her and sat down again.
Brooke took it with a half-smile and dabbed at her face. “You know, this has been a few of the hardest weeks. I put my foot in my mouth and then the accident was horrible. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about another car.” She appeared pensive. “I know you don’t like hearing me say stuff like this. Maybe God�
��s using these situations to push me into doing something with my future. I feel like I’ve been waiting around for life to begin when I’m the one who needs to make it happen.” She shrugged and blushed a little.
“Brooke, that’s ridiculous. You’re saying God took advantage of what’s going on with us and He arranged your car accident so you’d get bored enough and do something different. What kind of crappy thing is that?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. What if God saw what happened and thought, ‘You know, Brooke’s life is gonna be shaken up. She’s getting frustrated with her job and the accident means she’ll have two weeks off. Maybe now’s a good time to give her a little nudge in the right direction’.”
She had to be kidding. Every time she or Joel would talk about how God helped them out with a situation, he wanted to knock some sense into them. “I respect your beliefs, Brooke. But you’ll never be able to convince me God’s up there watching over us. If He were, the three of us wouldn’t have gone into foster care. You wouldn’t be sitting there with broken ribs.” Chess crossed his arms and raised his brows at her as though daring her to come up with an explanation.
“Let me tell you something, Chess. My mom died when I was six. I’m not sure I’d remember much about her if Auntie hadn’t taken me in and reminded me every day what my mama and I did together. It’s because of that extra two years that I have more memories than I would have.” She shifted on the couch, her arm briefly brushing against his. “I lived in the foster care system for most of my childhood. Miraculously, nothing bad ever happened to me. The one time it almost…” Her voice broke. “One of the boys at that home tried… Well, the foster dad caught him and made sure I was safe. And then I ended up with the Zieglers.”
Hearing her words and her experience stunned Chess. That anyone had dared to try and lay a hand on Brooke like that… “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
She shook her head. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad for me. At the Zieglers, I was sure I would age out of the system alone. And that’s when I met Joel.” She smiled at the memory. “It was like I’d reached my limit and there he was. Right when I needed him. Instead of ending up on the streets by myself, we made it through and moved out together. I thought we’d be home free. And when we thought we’d reached the end of our ropes, God brought you into our lives.”
Chess watched Brooke as she spoke. He didn’t understand her faith. But sometimes he envied that she had such a strong belief in something.
Her eyes sparkled. “Things haven’t been easy for me, Chess. But guess what? They could have been a whole lot worse. I’m thankful for the memories I have of my mama. I’m thankful for the time I spent with my auntie. And I can’t imagine my life without you or Joel in it. That, I wholly credit to God. He watched over me the entire way and when I didn’t think I could walk another step, He picked me up and carried me.”
Brooke reached over and took his hand in hers, her skin warm and soft. Chess ran his thumb over her wrist, amazed at how right it felt. He should pull his hand away, but instead, his eyes traveled from their joined hands to her face.
“God used you to make a difference in Joel’s life. In mine. You were there for Nathan in the beginning and now you’ll have the chance to get to know the brother you lost. Think about it, Chess. You may not believe in God, but He obviously believes in you.” She leaned over and placed the softest of kisses against Chess’s cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She stood slowly, one arm across her broken ribs, and left the room. If she was as conflicted as he right now, she probably needed the escape.
All Chess could do was stare at the space she’d vacated while her words seemed to echo in his head. His chest ached. He tried to push everything she’d said into the back of his mind, but it refused to obey. What she said was impossible. He’d spent his whole life assuming that, if there was a God, He didn’t care one lick about him. The idea that He not only knew who Chess was, but cared what happened to him, was absurd. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
A knock at Brooke’s front door brought Chess to his feet.
Brooke re-entered the room and went to answer the door. “Larry? What are you doing here?”
Upon hearing the guy’s name, Chess moved to stand just behind her. He didn’t miss the way the shorter man’s eyes widened when he saw Chess.
She put one hand on the door and the other on her hip.
Larry wiped his palms off on his pants and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I stopped by the salon to talk to you. One of the ladies there said you had an accident and were on vacation.” He looked nervously at Chess then back to Brooke. “Were you hurt?
Chess resisted the urge to lecture the guy on his use of stalking as a way to impress a woman. Brooke wouldn’t appreciate it if he interfered. She’d made that much abundantly clear in the past. She surprised him, though, when she took a little step to the side, bringing her close enough to brush Chess’s arm with hers.
“I’m doing okay. I appreciate you asking, but you shouldn’t be here.”
Larry frowned and it was clear he hoped Chess would leave them alone. When Chess made no move to do so, Larry took a minute step back. “I just wanted to come by and see if there was anything I could do to help.”
Brooke shook her head. “I don’t need anything from you, Larry.” The meaning behind her words was clear.
It looked like Larry might object until his gaze collided with Chess’s. Larry’s attention moved to Chess’s belt where the outline of his holstered forty-five could be seen beneath his shirt.
Larry visibly blanched. “Right. I guess I’ll be going.”
He turned to leave when Brooke said, “Don’t come back here, Larry.”
The guy gave her a single nod, avoided Chess completely, and left.
Chess looked over at Brooke. A feeling of protectiveness toward her combined with satisfaction in knowing she wasn’t going to let Larry weasel his way back into her life. “I’m proud of you.”
She gave him a sad smile. “You know, I’m exhausted. If you don’t mind, I’m going to try to get some rest.”
“Of course.” He almost said he’d see her tomorrow except that wasn’t true. Now that she had the stitches out, she didn’t need him to come and help her clean and bandage the cut. He choked back the disappointment.
Brooke cleared her throat. “I’ll see you on Saturday for the barbecue, okay?”
“Yeah. You’ll call if you need help with anything?”
“I will.”
Chess fought against the mixture of disappointment and relief as he said goodbye and walked out of her apartment. He should be glad to return to normal and only see Brooke when they were all together. He ought to be relieved that he didn’t have to watch what he said or did every minute he was around her.
But the only thing he felt acutely was her absence.
Chess’s mind swirled with everything he and Brooke had talked about. If he’d been more open in the beginning, would she have shared about her experiences in foster care? Would he have been able to help her have more self-confidence? After everything that had happened to her, how did she have such a strong faith in God?
He finally picked up his phone and dialed Joel’s number two hours later.
“Hey, Chess. What’s up?”
“I messed things up with Brooke, didn’t I? No wonder she doesn’t like to talk to me about the important stuff like she does you. And then, when she finally does tell me something, I make a mess of that, too.”
“Where’s this coming from? Did you guys fight?”
“No.” It probably would’ve been easier if they had.
“You’re taking way too much credit for the crap Brooke’s gone through that fed into her insecurities. Don’t forget her dad walked out on her when she was a baby. If he’d been around, she’d never have entered the foster care system in the first place.” He paused. “You’ve been there for her since we first met you. Don’t discount that. J
ust because your relationship with Brooke differs from the relationship she and I have, doesn’t mean it’s any less.”
It was almost as though Joel had overheard the conversation between Chess and Brooke. Did he believe God used Chess to help them, too?
Chapter Twelve
Saturday turned out to be a hot one. Chess stood in the sun with Joel as the steaks cooked, but both Anna and Brooke chose to sit near the glass sliding door where the porch roof sheltered them from the sun. Chess hadn’t spoken with Brooke since Thursday evening. He kept stealing glances at her, trying to discern whether she was doing okay. While she still favored her side a great deal, she didn’t appear to be in as much pain.
Joel must have caught him watching her because he said, “Brooke’s tough.”
Chess nodded. “I know.” But that was the problem. Sometimes she was too tough and didn’t ask for help when she needed it. Chess was feeling off balance himself with too many unknowns floating around him. Between Brooke’s future, their friendship, and meeting Nathan for the first time today, he struggled to shake off the unease.
The doorbell rang and the four friends looked at each other. Pushing back waves of nerves, Chess hollered, “I’ve got it.” He hurried through the house to the front door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.
A man two or three inches shorter than Chess stood waiting. Hazel eyes he’d recognize anywhere held a mixture of uncertainty and determination. Chess had imagined this meeting a dozen different ways in the last week. Now that they were both standing here, he didn’t know what to say.
Nathan shifted the bundle he held and cradled it in his left arm. The pink and purple blanket slid over to reveal the sleeping face of a baby girl. He stuck his now-free arm out. “I’m Nathan.”
Chess took his hand and shook it. “Chess.”
Someone to Trust (Life Unexpected Book 2) Page 9
