“Well, I—” he began hesitantly, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to mislead her, either.
Just then, the doorbell rang, curtailing any further conversation between them.
Anne wanted to ignore it, wanted him to finish answering her question as to whether or not he would be leaving her again. Suddenly, she felt on the verge of telling Danny about Janie even though she knew it would be like dropping a bombshell on him.
But it also might be just the incentive he needed to convince him to stay in Rust Creek Falls.
The doorbell rang again.
Dan looked at her quizzically. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” he asked her.
When the doorbell rang a third time, she fixed a smile on her face, said, “Sure,” and then went to answer the door.
Before she reached it, she heard the sound of her daughter running into the room. For such a slight little girl, she had very heavy feet and the ability to make her presence known, Anne thought.
“In case that’s Dad, I’ve got my bag all packed and ready,” Janie announced cheerfully.
“That’s good, dear. You wouldn’t want to keep your father waiting,” Anne told her daughter as she opened the door.
Hank Harlow walked in.
Chapter Five
The first person Hank Harlow saw when Anne opened the door to admit him in was not his ex-wife, nor was it the little girl who’d had him completely wrapped around her little finger from the moment she was born. It was the tall, lanky cowboy in the room. The one standing near Anne.
The man who had been his competition, sight unseen, all these years.
His dark eyes darted back to Anne, an unspoken question in his pointed look.
Anne knew what her ex-husband was silently asking her and very slowly, she shook her head just enough to let him know that she hadn’t said anything to either Dan or to the little girl Hank considered his daughter.
The next second Janie had launched herself into Hank’s arms, eager for their evening together to get started.
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hi yourself, Short Stuff,” Hank responded affectionately, hugging the little girl who had her arms tightly wrapped around his waist.
These were the moments to savor, Hank thought. Even if he wasn’t looking at a very real threat to his fragile world right here in his ex-wife’s living room, it wouldn’t be all that long before Janie became a teenager. Teenagers weren’t all that keen on public displays of affection when it came to their dads.
He was going to miss this.
“I packed early,” Janie told him proudly as she finally dropped her hands to her sides.
Hank saw the stuffed backpack she’d dropped on the floor as she’d run to hug him. “That’s my girl,” he said with approval, ruffling her hair.
His words carried a slight territorial ring to them, Dan noted. Obviously, the man thought he was here to try to break up his family, but he would never do anything like that. He’d had his chance twelve years ago and he’d missed it, Dan thought.
Stepping forward, he put his hand out to the man who had his arm still protective around Janie’s shoulders. “Hi, I’m Dan Stockton,” he said, introducing himself.
“Yes, I know,” Hank replied frostily. After a beat, he took Dan’s hand and barely shook it before let it drop. “I’m Hank Harlow.” He slanted a quick, meaningful glance in Anne’s direction as he added, “Janie’s dad.”
“C’mon, Dad, let’s go,” Janie urged, tugging on Hank’s hand as she turned in the direction of the front door.
“Don’t forget to take your schoolbooks with you,” Anne reminded her daughter.
Janie pointed toward the bulging backpack. “They’re in there, Mom,” she assured her mother. “I just packed them.”
“Homework, too?” Anne stressed.
Janie signed dramatically as if it irritated her to be treated like a child. “Homework, too.”
Anne smiled at her. “Then I guess you’re all set,” she concluded. “We’ll have those hamburgers another night.”
“I’ll bring her to school in the morning,” Hank made a point of telling her.
Anne nodded. Crossing to the duo at the door, she kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Behave yourself,” she said affectionately.
“She always behaves herself,” Hank said. “Short Stuff’s perfect.”
Janie beamed as she looked up at him. She tugged on his hand again, more urgently this time.
“Let’s go!” she pleaded insistently.
“Have a good time,” Anne called after her daughter.
Janie waved at her as she ran to the car.
She watched as Hank opened the passenger door for Janie. Once the girl was strapped in, he shut the door and rounded the hood to the driver’s side. He paused to give her one last warning look before getting into his truck himself.
Anne could tell from her ex-husband’s expression that he clearly didn’t want her saying anything to Dan about Janie being his daughter. She knew how Hank felt about Janie, knew he feared that if the truth came out, he might lose Janie’s love.
She sincerely doubted that would happen, but she could understand his concern.
Watching Hank, she bit her lower lip, utterly torn between the truth and her sense of loyalty.
She continued watching until Hank started up the truck and then pulled away from her house.
With a sigh, she closed the front door and then turned around to face Dan. Her heart hammering, she was acutely aware of the fact that they were now completely alone in the house.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure just what to say to him, how to even begin a conversation.
The question Dan asked her the next moment didn’t help, either. “When did you get divorced?”
Her mouth felt like dry cotton. How did he know? How could he not know? Hank was picking Janie up for an overnight stay. Only divorced parents do that sort of thing, idiot, she upbraided herself.
“You didn’t know?” Anne asked, doing her best to sound nonchalant.
“I didn’t even know you were married until I started prowling through social media, looking to see if I could find any photos or information on you. I came across pictures of you and Janie—and him,” Dan told her, remembering how much it had hurt, seeing her with Hank, so much so that he never went back. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. “But, funny thing, there aren’t pictures posted that can capture a divorce.”
She didn’t want to have this conversation, afraid that she might accidentally let something slip before she was ready—assuming she would ever be ready.
Taking a breath, she deliberately ignored his question regarding her divorce and switched gears to act like a hostess.
“Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee, a soft drink, water?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice light.
Dan understood what she was telling him. That this topic was off-limits. He could respect that. Divorces could wound a person far more effectively than a bullet. He had his untouchable subjects and she had hers, he thought, so he backed off.
“No, I’m fine,” Dan assured her.
“Something to eat, then?” she offered. “I’ve got some leftover fried chicken in the refrigerator—I made it,” she told him, then made a point of adding, “I’ve learned to cook better now.”
“There was nothing wrong with the way you cooked,” Dan said kindly.
She laughed a little, some of the tension between them temporarily backing off. “That was because you were in love with me back then.”
I’m still in love with you, he silently told her. Out loud, Dan contradicted her. “Bad cooking has a way of cutting through that,” he assured her. Knowing a little shot of honesty was called for here, he added, “You weren’t going t
o make Martha Stewart pack up her pots and pans, but you weren’t bad.”
“So then, can I get you something to eat? I could make hamburgers,” she offered, already crossing to the refrigerator, eager to do something with her hands. Preparing a light dinner would take care of that.
His stomach felt so tied up in knots, Dan knew if he consumed something, he ran the serious risk of having it come back up.
Maybe it was time to leave, he told himself.
“No, really, I’m fine. I didn’t come here to eat,” he told Anne. “I really did just come to apologize. And now that I have, I should get going.” Needing a way to gracefully pave his way out, he grabbed at the first thing that occurred to him. “I promised Jamie I’d be back by a certain time. If I’m not there when I said I would be, I don’t want him thinking I’ve taken off for another twelve years.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Anne told him stiffly.
About to leave, he took Anne’s hand for a moment, only to have her pull it back as if she’d just been touched by a hot poker. And then he saw her flush, her cheeks turning a shade of pink he would have found infinitely appealing if it wasn’t for the fact that she had just acted as if she couldn’t stand being touched by him.
This was going to take time and patience, he told himself—if he wound up staying, he added, and that hadn’t been decided yet.
“I really am sorry, Annie,” he told her quietly. And then he crossed to the door and opened it.
“Wait!”
Dan slowly turned around, waiting, a silent query in his eyes.
“You can’t—I mean, when—” She sounded tongue-tied, till she finally said, “Will I see you again?”
“If I decide to go back to Colorado, I’ll stop by to let you know and say goodbye,” he promised.
And with that, he turned away from her and left.
He heard Anne flip the lock on the door. It had a prophetic, final sound to it.
Trying to shake off the thought, he hurried to his truck.
* * *
“So, how did it go?”
Jamie’s question met him the moment Dan walked through the door his brother held open.
“Have you been standing there this entire time?” Dan wanted to know, walking across the threshold.
“Not standing,” Jamie corrected, and then he admitted, “Pacing, maybe.”
“This whole time?” Dan asked again. Was his brother that uncertain that he would return?
“No,” Jamie answered defensively—and then he relented. “Just for the last hour. So how did it go?” he repeated.
Dan walked into the living room. He expected to find his newfound nephews and niece in the room, or, at the very least, his new sister-in-law.
But the room was empty.
Dan sank down on the sofa and looked at his brother, waiting for him to sit down beside him. He’d heard the nervousness in Jamie’s voice. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess the reason behind it. Did Jamie expect him to be angry?
It was best to get this out of the way sooner than later, he thought. “You didn’t tell me Annie had gotten married.”
He saw the apprehension in Jamie’s eyes as his brother answered, “I was afraid you wouldn’t go see her if you knew about that.”
And it was obviously important to Jamie that he saw Anne, Dan thought, still somewhat mystified. “Why did you want me to go see her?”
“Because you wanted to,” Jamie answered simply. And then he added with emphasis, “And I think that you needed to.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell me about the little girl, too?” Dan guessed, doing his best to try to piece everything together.
Jamie blew out a breath. “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I kept that from you, but—”
Dan raised his hand, not letting him finish. “And the divorce?” he asked, focusing on the final point. “Why didn’t you tell me that she was divorced?”
“Because if I told you that, I would have had to tell you that she’d gotten married first and I didn’t want to get into any of that. Besides, I wanted Anne to tell you about her divorce herself.” An almost sheepish smile curved the corners of his mouth. “I figured you’d get the good news after you weathered the bad. Bottom line is that Annie’s a free woman. The rest of it is just history.”
“History that produced a little girl,” Dan pointed out.
Jamie didn’t know how his brother felt about that part, but he was not about to get into an argument with Dan. Not after Dan had only just now come back into his life after more than a decade’s hiatus.
He deliberately focused on the positive aspect.
“Janie’s a real cutie, isn’t she?” Jamie asked.
For a long moment, Dan remained silent. And then he slowly smiled and said, “She’s Annie’s daughter. How could she not be?”
“I know, right?” Jamie asked. Getting up, he crossed over to the small liquor cabinet in the corner. He poured two shots of Wild Turkey and brought them both over to the sofa, placing one on the coffee table in front of Dan. “What did Annie say when she opened the door and saw you standing there?”
“Her exact words were ‘What are you doing here?’” he told Jamie.
Jamie laughed, shaking his head. “That’s Annie, direct as ever.” He nodded at the untouched shot glass. “Would you like something else instead?” he asked. “My liquor cabinet’s not well stocked, but I’ve got a few different things you can chose from,” Jamie told him, getting up again.
But Dan shook his head. “That’s okay, don’t trouble yourself. I don’t drink.”
Jamie looked at him in surprise. He’d never actually seen Dan drink. However, one of the last nights they were still a real family, he remembered that Dan, Luke and Bailey had snuck out to a bar to go drinking.
“You don’t drink?” he repeated. “Seriously?” he asked his brother.
“Seriously,” Dan replied.
“Not ever?”
“No,” Dan answered stoically.
Jamie put down the shot glass he was just about to raise to his own lips. He wasn’t going to have a drink if Dan wasn’t.
“Since when?” he asked.
Dan wasn’t all that eager to talk about it, but then, he knew he couldn’t keep running from this forever. Because he had things to hide, he fed Jamie the barest information.
“Since the night Mom and Dad died,” Dan told him simply.
“Because they were killed by that drunk driver,” Jamie guessed.
That wasn’t the reason, but Dan let it go at that. Because if he didn’t, if he told Jamie that wasn’t the real reason, he would have to explain further and let Jamie in on the terrible secret he’d been carrying around with him for the last twelve years.
It was enough that he was burdened with that secret. He wasn’t about to tell Jamie and have him share the burden. Jamie didn’t deserve to have to put up with that.
So instead, he nodded his head and said, “Yeah, something like that. But you don’t have to abstain just because I’m not drinking,” he told Jamie, nodding at the drink that his brother had set down.
“They were my parents, too,” Jamie needlessly reminded him.
Yeah, and I’m the reason they’re not here right now. I’m the reason you and Bella had to put up with being raised—if you can call it that—by Grandma and Grandpa while the other girls were adopted and farmed out. I’m the reason Luke and Bailey had to leave home and why our whole family wound up being shattered and split up.
Though he had kept his silence all these years, it still felt as if the secret was cutting him up with small, jagged knives.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Jamie asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Compassion filled him as he put his hand on his brother�
��s shoulder. “Danny, talk to me. Are you okay?”
“Just a little emotionally wrung out, I guess,” Danny told him. “I just need some rest. I’ll be fine by morning,” he promised.
Jamie looked at the clock on the mantel. “It’s a little early for bed,” he noted. “Don’t you want to have some dinner first? Fallon’s putting together this Prodigal Brother Returns Feast, guaranteed to knock your socks off. Are you sure you want to miss that?” Jamie asked him.
Dan really wanted some time to himself to process everything that had happened today. But at the same time, he didn’t want to insult his new sister-in-law or hurt her feelings by taking a pass on dinner. Especially after she had gone to all this trouble for him. That wouldn’t be right.
“No, I surely don’t want to miss that,” he told Jamie. “It’s not every day that I have a feast in my honor.”
“So you’ll have dinner with us?” Jamie asked, looking at him hopefully.
“Hey, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dan assured him.
The expression that came over Jamie’s face was the epitome of happiness as well as relief.
Chapter Six
Dan couldn’t remember the last meal he’d had with family, and he didn’t want this one to end. But it was getting late and he was exhausted.
Pushing aside his now cold coffee, he was about to call it a night when his brother finally brought up the subject that had been on Dan’s mind all throughout the meal.
“You know,” Jamie said, leaning in to him, “when Hank divorced Anne, she came to see me, as well as Bella, asking if either one of us had finally heard from you and knew where you were.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Of course, we couldn’t help her because we had no idea where you—”
“Wait,” Dan cried incredulously, interrupting his brother. “Hank divorced her?”
“Yes.” Jamie looked at him quizzically. “You said that you knew they had gotten divorced. Why do you look so surprised?”
“Well, yes, I knew they were divorced, but I thought that Annie was the one who had divorced Hank,” Dan answered.
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