Brambleberry House

by RaeAnne Thayne

She gave into the storm of emotions for only a few moments before she straightened and drew in a shaky breath, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. Of course he was gone. What did she expect? She had made it quite clear to him the night before that she couldn’t forgive him for lying to her. Did she expect him to stick around hoping she would change her mind?

  Would she have?

  It was a question she didn’t know the answer to. This morning, her anger had faded, leaving only an echo of hurt that he had maintained the deception even after they made love.

  Julia’s words kept running through her head.

  Maybe he just found himself in a deep hole and he didn’t know how to climb out without digging in deeper.

  Yes, he had lied about his identity. But she couldn’t quite believe everything else was a lie. He had stood up to Grayson for her that day in the store, he had come with her to the verdict, had held her hand when she was afraid, had kissed her with stunning tenderness. What was truth and what was a lie?

  She loved him. That, at least, was undeniably true.

  She let out one last sob, her hands buried in Conan’s fur, then she straightened her spine. He was gone and she could do nothing about it. In the meantime, she had two businesses to run and a house to take care of. And now she needed to find a new tenant for her third-floor apartment so she could pay for a new roof.

  Conan suddenly jerked away from her and went to the edge of the porch, barking wildly. She turned to see what had captured his attention and her heart stuttered in her chest.

  Max walked toward her through the morning mist, looking lean and masculine and dangerous in his leather bomber jacket with his arm in the sling.

  The breath caught in her throat as he walked toward her and stopped a half-dozen feet away.

  “I made you cry.”

  “No, you didn’t. I never cry.”

  He raised an eyebrow and she lifted her chin defiantly. “It’s just cold out here and my allergies must be starting up. It’s early spring and the grass pollen count is probably sky-high.”

  Now who was lying? she thought, clamping her teeth together before she could ramble on more and make things worse.

  “Is that right?” he murmured, though he didn’t look as if he believed her for an instant.

  “I thought you left,” she said after a moment.

  He shrugged. “I came back.”

  “You left your key and vacated the apartment.”

  Where did this cool, composed voice of hers come from? she wondered. What she really wanted to do instead of standing out here having such a civil conversation was to leap into his arms and hold on tight.

  He shrugged, leaning a hip against the carved porch support post. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to leave.”

  “Too bad. You can’t walk out on a lease agreement and then waltz back in just because you feel like it.”

  Amusement sparked in his hazel eyes. Amusement and something else, something that had her pulse racing. “Are you going to take me to court, Anna? Because I have to tell you, that would look pretty bad for you. I would hate to pull out the pity card but I just don’t see how you could avoid the ugly headlines. ‘Vindictive landlady kicks out injured war veteran.’”

  She bristled. “Vindictive? Vindictive?”

  “Okay, bad choice of words. How about, ‘Justifiably angry landlady.’”

  “Better.”

  “No, wait. I’ve got the perfect headline.” He slid away from the post and stepped closer and her pulse kicked up a dozen notches at the intent look in his eyes.

  “How about ‘Idiotic injured soldier falls hard for lovely landlady.’”

  “Because only an idiot would be stupid enough to fall for her, right?”

  He laughed roughly. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

  She shrugged instead of answering, mostly because she didn’t quite trust her voice.

  Just kiss me already.

  “All right, this is my last attempt here. How about ‘Ex-helicopter pilot loses heart to successful local business owner, declares he can’t live without her.’”

  Conan barked suddenly with delight and Anna could only stare at Max, her heart pounding so loudly she was quite certain he must be able to hear it. She didn’t know quite how to adjust to the quicksilver shift from despair to this bright, vibrant joy bursting through her.

  “I like it,” she whispered. “No, I love it.”

  He grinned suddenly and she thought again how much he had changed in the short time he’d been at Brambleberry House.

  “It’s a keeper then,” he said, then he finally stepped forward and kissed her with fierce tenderness.

  Tears welled up in her eyes again, this time tears of joy, and she returned his kiss with all the emotion in her heart.

  “Can you forgive me, Anna? I made a mistake. I should never have tried to deceive you and I certainly shouldn’t have played it out so long. I never expected to fall in love with you. That wasn’t in the plan—or at least not in my plan.”

  “Whose plan was it?”

  “I’ve got something to show you. Something I’m quite sure you’re not going to believe.”

  He eased onto the porch swing and pulled her onto his lap as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. She was going to be late for work, Anna thought, but right now she didn’t give a darn. She didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world but right here, in the arms of the man she loved.

  “I’m assuming you’re the one who slipped the letter from Aunt Abigail under my door.”

  She nodded. “She was quite strict in her instructions that you not receive it until you returned to Brambleberry House in person. Sage and I didn’t understand it but the attorney said that was nonnegotiable.”

  “That’s because she was manipulating us all,” he answered. “Here. See for yourself.”

  He handed her the letter and she scanned the words with growing astonishment. By the time she was done, a single tear dripped down the side of her nose.

  “The wretch,” she exclaimed, then she laughed out loud. “How could she possibly know?”

  “What? That you’re perfect for me?”

  Her gaze flashed to his and she saw blazing emotion there that sent heat and that wild flutter of joy coursing through her. “Am I?” she whispered, afraid to believe it.

  “You are everything I never knew I needed, Anna. I love you. With everything inside me, I love you. Abigail got that part exactly right.”

  She wanted to cry again. To laugh and cry and hold him close.

  Thank you, Abigail. For this wonderful gift, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  “Oh, Max. I love you. I think I fell in love with you that first morning on the beach when you were so kind to Conan.”

  He kissed her, his mouth tender and his eyes filled with emotion. “I’m not the poetry type of guy, Anna. But I can tell you that my heart definitely found a home here, and not because of the house. Because of you.”

  This time her tears slipped through and she wrapped her arms around him, holding tight.

  Just before he kissed her, Anna could swear she heard a sigh of satisfied delight. She opened her eyes and was quite certain that over his shoulder she caught the glitter of an ethereal kind of shadow drifting through the garden, past the edge of the yard and on toward the beach.

  She blinked again and then it was gone.

  She must have been mistaken, she thought, except Conan stood at the edge of the porch, looking in the same direction, his ears cocked.

  The dog bounded down the steps and into the garden. He barked once, still looking out to sea.

  After a long moment, he barked again, then gave that silly canine grin of his and returned to the porch to curl up at their feet.

 
EPILOGUE

  IT WAS EASY to believe in happy endings at a moment like this.

  Max sat in the gardens of Brambleberry House on a lovely June day. The wild riot of colorful flowers gleamed in the late-afternoon sunlight and the air was scented with their perfume—roses and daylilies and the sweet, seductive smell of lavender that melded with the brisk, salty undertone of the sea.

  Julia Blair was a beautiful bride. Her eyes were bright with happiness as she stood beside Will Garrett under an arbor covered in Abigail’s favorite yellow roses while they exchanged vows.

  The two of them were deeply in love and everyone at the wedding could see it. Max was glad for Will. He had been given a small glimpse from Abigail’s letters over the years of how dark and desolate his friend’s life had been after the deaths of his wife and daughter. These last three months, Anna had shared a little more of Will’s grieving process with Max and he couldn’t imagine that kind of pain.

  From what he could tell, Julia was the ideal woman to help Will move forward. Max had come to know her well after three months of living upstairs from her. She was sweet and compassionate, with a deep reservoir of love inside her that she showered on Will and her children.

  “May I have the rings, please?” the pastor performing the ceremony asked. Then he had to repeat his request since Simon, the ring bearer and best man, was busy making faces at Chloe Spencer.

  “Simon, pay attention,” his twin sister hissed loudly. To emphasize her point, she poked him hard with the basket full of the flower petals she had strewn along the garden path before the ceremony.

  “Sorry,” Simon muttered, then held the pillow holding the rings out to Will, who was doing his best to fight a smile.

  “Thanks, bud,” Will said, reaching for the rings with one hand while he squeezed the boy’s shoulder with the other in a man-to-man kind of gesture.

  As Will and Julia exchanged rings, Max heard a small sniffle beside him and turned his head to find Anna’s brown eyes shimmering with tears she tried hard to contain.

  He curled his fingers more tightly around hers, and as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder for just a moment, he was astounded all over again at how very much his world had changed in just a few short months.

  She had become everything to him.

  His love.

  When the clergyman pronounced them man and wife and they kissed to seal their union, he watched as the tears Anna had been fighting broke free and started to trickle down her cheek.

  He pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his dress uniform, and she dabbed at her eyes. For a woman who claimed she never cried, she had become remarkably proficient at it.

  She had cried a month earlier when Sage Benedetto-Spencer told them she and Eben were expecting a baby, due exactly on Abigail’s birthday in November.

  She’d cried the day the accountant at her Lincoln City store told her they were safely in the black after several record months of sales.

  And she had cried buckets for him when, after his latest trip to Walter Reed a month ago, he had come to the inevitable conclusion that he couldn’t keep trying to pretend everything would be all right with his shoulder; when he had finally accepted he would never be able to fly a helicopter again.

  Max could have left the army completely at that point on a medical discharge, but he had opted instead only to leave active duty. Serving part-time in the army reserves based out of Portland would be a different challenge for him, but he knew he still had much to offer.

  The ceremony ended and the newly married couple was immediately surrounded by well-wishers—Conan at the front of the pack. Though he had waited with amazing patience through the service, sitting next to Sage in the front row, the dog apparently had decided he needed to be in the middle of the action.

  Conan looked only slightly disgruntled at the bow tie he had been forced to wear. Maybe he knew he’d gotten a lucky reprieve—Julia’s twins had pleaded for a full tuxedo for him but Anna had talked them out of it, much to Conan’s relief, Max was quite certain.

  “What a gorgeous day for a party.” Sage Benedetto-Spencer approached them with her husband. “The garden looks spectacular. I’ve never seen the colors so rich.”

  “Your husband’s landscape crew from the Sea Urchin did most of the work,” Anna said.

  “Not true,” Eben piped in, wrapping his arms around his wife. “I have it on good authority that you and Max had already done most of the hard work by the time they got here.”

  Max considered the long evenings and weekends they had spent preparing the yard for the ceremony as a gift—to himself, most of all. Here in Abigail’s lush gardens as they’d pruned and planted, he and Anna had talked and laughed and kissed and enjoyed every moment of being together.

  He loved watching her, elbow-deep in dirt, Abigail’s floppy hat on as she lifted her face to the evening sunshine.

  Okay, he loved watching her do anything. Whether it was flying kites with the twins on the beach or throwing a stick for Conan in the yard or sitting at her office desk, her brow wrinkled with concentration as she reconciled her accounts.

  He was just plain crazy about her.

  They spoke for a few more moments with Eben and Sage before Anna excused herself to make certain the caterers were ready to start bringing out the appetizers for the reception.

  When she still hadn’t returned a half hour later, Max went searching for her.

  He found her alone in the kitchen of her apartment, which had been set up as food central, setting bacon-wrapped shrimp on etched silver platters. Typical Anna, he thought with a grin. Sure, the caterer Julia and Will had hired was probably more than capable of handling all these little details, but she must be busy somewhere else and Anna must have stepped in to help. She loved being involved in the action. If there was work to be done, his Anna didn’t hesitate.

  She was humming to herself, and he listened to her for a moment, admiring the brisk efficiency of her movements, then he slid in behind her with as much stealth as he could manage. She wore her hair up and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and brushing a kiss along the elegant arch of her bared neck, just on the spot he had learned, these last few months, was most sensitive.

  A delicate shiver shook her frame and her hands paused in their work. “I don’t know who you are, but don’t stop,” she purred in a low, throaty voice.

  He laughed and turned her to face him. She raised her eyebrows in a look of mock surprise as she slid into his arms. “Oh. Max. Hi.”

  He kissed her properly this time, astonished all over again at the little bump in his pulse, at the love that swelled inside him whenever he had her in his arms.

  “It’s been a beautiful day, hasn’t it?” she said, soft joy in her eyes for her friends’ happiness.

  “Beautiful,” he agreed, without a trace of the cynicism he had expected.

  His own mother had been married six times, the most recent just a few weeks ago to some man she’d met on a three-week Mediterranean cruise. With his childhood and the examples he had seen, he had always considered the idea of happy endings like Julia and Will’s—and Sage and Eben’s, for that matter—just another fairy tale. But this time with her had changed everything.

  “Anna, I want this,” he said suddenly.

  “The shrimp? I know, they’re divine, aren’t they? I think I could eat the whole platter myself.”

  “Not the shrimp. I want the whole thing. The wedding, the flowers. The crazy-spooky dog with the bow tie. I want all of it.”

  She blinked rapidly, and he saw color soak her cheeks. “Oh,” she said slowly.

  He wasn’t going about this the right way at all. He had a feeling if Abigail happened to be watching she would be laughing her head off just about now at how inept he was.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have all the flower
y words. I only know that I love you with everything inside me. I want forever, Anna.” He paused, his heartbeat sounding unnaturally loud in his ears. “Will you marry me?”

  She gazed at him for a long, drawn-out moment. Through the open window behind her, he was vaguely aware of the band starting up, playing something soft and slow and romantic.

  “Oh, Max,” she said. She sniffled once, then again, then she threw herself back into his arms.

  “Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” she laughed, punctuating each word with a kiss.

  “A smart businesswoman like you had better think this through before you answer so definitively. I’m not much of a bargain, I’m afraid. Are you really sure you’ll be happy married to a weekend warrior and high-school physics teacher who’s greener at his new job than a kid on his first day of basic training?”

  “I don’t need to think anything through. I love you, Max. I want the whole thing, too.” She kissed him again. “And besides, you’re going to be a wonderful teacher.”

  Of all the careers out there, he never would have picked teaching for himself, but now it seemed absolutely right. He had always enjoyed giving training to new recruits and had been damn good at it. But high-school students? That was an entirely different matter.

  Anna had been the one who’d pointed out to him how important the teachers at the military school Meredith sent him to had been in shaping his life and the man he had become. They’d been far more instrumental than his own mother.

  Once the idea had been planted, it stuck. Since he already had a physics degree, now he only had to finish obtaining a teaching certificate. This time next year, he would be preparing lesson plans.

  It wasn’t the path he had expected, but that particular route had been blown apart by a rocket-fired grenade in Iraq. Somehow this one suddenly seemed exactly the right one for him.

  He couldn’t help remembering what Abigail used to say—A bend in the road is only the end if you refuse to make the turn. He was making the turn, and though he couldn’t see it all clearly, he had a feeling the path ahead contained more joy than he could even imagine.

  He rested his chin on Anna’s hair. Already that joy seemed to seep through him, washing away all the pain. He couldn’t wait to follow that road, to spend the rest of his life with efficient Anna—with her plans and her ambitions and her brilliant mind.