THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  “You missed the fact that I still love him.”

  He shook his head. “No, no. You’re not thinking straight again.”

  Maybe I’m actually thinking for the first time in my life. “You never asked me if I wanted a divorce from Riley. A month later you hauled me to the lawyer and I couldn’t talk to you about it. It was just too sad.”

  “Eileen tried to talk to you.”

  It was true. She had, and Sophia wouldn’t listen. Eileen wasn’t her mother. “I think you both assumed a lot of things. Yes, my heart was broken but I was also pretty young and stupid. Maybe even a little spoiled.”

  “Bah! I never spoiled you. I only tried to protect you.”

  Riley had done the same. What a mess her life had been, loving two men who each in their own way tried to protect her. At least it seemed that Riley had changed, but Daddy-o was still stuck in his old-school ways.

  “But you should have at least asked me if I wanted the divorce.”

  “You left him. What am I to think?”

  “That maybe we could have worked it out, given time? What would Mama say? Would she have thought I should get divorced or try to work it out?”

  “Don’t try to distract me with talk of your mother! You let me think you were divorced, all this time. What do you think Mama would say about lying to your father?”

  “And I’m really sorry about that. I should have told you a long time ago. Ignoring something doesn’t make it go away. I know that. I tried to ignore the way I felt for a long time. And I figured if he wanted the divorce, he’d do something about it. But he never did.”

  “Things are different in today’s world than they were in your mother’s and mine. There’s no shame in being a divorced woman, so they tell me. Don’t let that stop you.”

  “I’m not ashamed! Marriages don’t work out for all kinds of reasons. And I know we were young, but one thing hasn’t changed for me. I do love him and I probably never stopped.”

  Lizzie took that moment to approach, her steps as slow as if she were walking a tightrope. “Can I take your orders?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Sophia said, folding her napkin into eighths.

  “Tell Angie to bring me the fettuccine Alfredo, and to be sure to first drain the pasta in such a way as it doesn’t stick together.”

  “I’ll tell her.” Lizzie sauntered off.

  She would never in a million years tell Angie.

  “Angie knows how to cook pasta,” Sophia felt compelled to say.

  “Of course she does. But reminders never hurt anyone. Your mother made the best pasta. Homemade. But I’m sure you remember.” He took a sip of his wine, his eyes becoming misty. “You’re right. I wonder what she’d say about all this.”

  “I do too. All the time.” Sophia clasped her hands in front of her, left hand included. “And I think she would approve. She was always a big believer in true love and second chances.”

  “Your mother was, yes. Anna calls this the ‘song of the truly desperate’, or what happens when two people who aren’t any good for each other just keep coming back for more of the same.”

  “Anna’s not a romantic.” Sometimes Sophia doubted her oldest sister was even Italian. “But I disagree that Riley and I aren’t good for each other. Things are different now.”

  For one thing, he now wanted children. Her children, an important point of distinction. For another, he was no longer going to be away for long stretches of time, risking his life every day. And lastly, he wasn’t keeping the tough stuff, the ugly stuff, away from her. He’d told her about Lucy and let her come along. Best of all, he’d seen firsthand that she could support him too. This taking care of each other thing went both ways, and Riley had finally realized it.

  “And also,” Sophia said, moving in for the kill. She had a black ball, corner pocket. “I’m going back to school to finish my degree. Now don’t get excited. Not Berkeley, and I’ll probably do it online but I’ll get my degree.”

  As she suspected, the news pleased her father and he gave her a wide smile. “What changed your mind?”

  “I regret not finishing. Sometimes it’s not all or nothing. I didn’t like Berkeley, but that didn’t mean I had to quit school altogether.”

  On the other hand, had she not dropped out and been out celebrating with Melanie, would she have ever met Riley? She’d like to think so, but on the other hand maybe everything had happened the way it had for a reason.

  “I’m very happy to hear that. You’re so smart. Always knew you’d figure it out.” He smoothed down the edge of his napkin. “I don’t like this, you and Riley, but I’ll get used to it. Again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I trusted you with this restaurant, which was your Mama’s heart. Maybe I should trust you with your marriage, too. And that’s what I think your mother would say.” His eyes became watery.

  “I love you, Daddy-o.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

  He smiled and wiped his eyes. “Does this mean you’ll be living together again?”

  Things did seem to be headed in that direction, but she hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Another little red flag went up. They were moving fast again. Seemed she had little control over that when it came to Riley. Her hand drifted down to her stomach. She could already be pregnant. So many huge life decisions were ahead of them, and past experience told her that Riley would want to make every decision.

  “We haven’t talked about it but I guess we probably will.”

  Daddy-o sighed and reached for his wine goblet. “Sounds like you two have a lot to talk about, bella.”

  When Daddy-o was right, he nailed it.

  “But you’ll both come over for dinner? How about this Friday night? Eileen would love it.”

  “I’ll talk to Riley, but I’m sure we’ll be there.”

  20

  As Riley suspected, Dickhead was nowhere to be found when it came time for questioning. Instead, Luther had questioned everyone who’d been at the party with Lucy and got a big fat zero for his efforts. When Lucy collapsed, it had been one of the women at the party who called for help. They’d all given as much information as they could, but frankly, as Lucy had indicated, no one had forced the pills and alcohol down her throat.

  No, that dubious honor would go to his sister. He thanked God she’d be okay. At least for now. It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help go after Dick with everything he had. If Dick was smart, he knew it, too.

  “Sorry about your sister,” Claire said as she put on her jacket.

  “Hey, thanks for staying late.” He probably didn’t appreciate Claire, and all she did around here, enough. She’d put up with his mercurial moods for a month now and hadn’t quit on him yet.

  “Are you going to stay much later?” she asked.

  “Nah, I just thought I’d check in.”

  “It sure is going to be nice to see you go home from now on instead of being the last one here every night. I put all your messages on your desk.” Then she was out the door into the cold night.

  He flipped through the messages. One from the mayor, asking him to call in the morning. Another from a city council member who wanted to discuss Mr. Schwanbeck’s traffic light presentation. That phone call would be fun. He almost laughed now, remembering all the charts and Venn diagrams.

  I’ll be damned. Somehow, he was living a dull and boring life and still as happy as he’d ever been. Never would have thought that possible. Moving here had initially been about Sophia and Lucy. But now that he’d settled in somewhat, he could see that he was making a difference little by little. The youth group was growing, citizens were getting to know him and respect him for his efforts and his damned open-door policy, for which he’d have to thank Bert someday. It made a difference when he listened, even if he couldn’t change a thing.

  He texted Sophia. I’m on my way home.

  I’m here waiting.

  Dressed? Not dressed? Please say not dressed.

  Come find
out.

  Oh hell yeah. Riley put his phone away and stopped wasting precious time. He closed up the station, pulled out his car keys and strode to his Harley. He’d been riding less than five minutes when he got jumpy again. A truck seemed to be tailing him, had been with him for a few blocks. Maybe it was his imagination. But no, in the next second the driver shone his brights, and came up behind him, hitting the back end of his bike.

  With nothing to insulate him from the shock, the impact reverberated through his body. He swerved, trying to regain control. That was when the truck came up on his right, and turned into his lane, shoving his bike off the road. He caught a glimpse of Dickhead’s eerie smile as Riley tumbled off the Harley, hitting the pavement and skidding towards a tree. The helmet flew off his head and he hit the ground. Hard.

  Shit. He was an idiot. Should have seen this coming.

  The truck kept going.

  Dickhead had just tried to kill him.

  But he hadn’t. It was just a little blood. Sure. His head hurt like a mother but no way would Dickhead kill him. Riley wouldn’t die on fucking principle. Oh shit. Sophia. No, no, no. Yeah, no, she couldn’t find out about this. This would kill her before it even killed him.

  He couldn’t die now. Bad timing. They were going to have babies. She had a plan. He wasn’t going to ruin that plan. Not again. Riley tried to assess his injuries, the agonizing pain shooting through his arm. Or was that his shoulder?

  This was it. The Mother Lode of fights.

  “What do you mean you ‘volunteered’ for another deployment?”

  “They need me.” Was there any other way to say it? A Marine didn’t back down from a fight and he didn’t have kids like some of the other men did.

  “I need you.” Sophia picked up a plate and threw it at him.

  He ducked and she missed.

  She picked up a book and threw it. Missed again.

  Obviously she needed him for target practice. “I’ll come back. I always do.”

  “Holy shit, it’s the chief. Did you see that guy? He ran him off the road. On purpose!”

  Another voice he vaguely recognized. One of the kids from his group. Riley opened one eye.

  “Don’t worry, I got his license plate number.”

  Eric, head troublemaker and so-called graphic artist of wide open fences, which were an empty canvas in his mind. Riley drifted off again.

  “No, Riley. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I can’t let you go. You can’t go again.” Sophia pulled on his arm, and hell, when had she become so strong? She was pulling his arm straight out of its socket.

  Killing him. “That’s not going to happen to me. My men have my back.”

  “What about me? Don’t you love me anymore?”

  Crap, now she was crying. Done throwing things at least. “I love you, baby.”

  “No, you don’t.” Sophia slid down the wall and fell in a heap on the floor. “You want to die. That’s not love.”

  “Blood pressure one sixty over one hundred and twenty.”

  “Color pale. He’s concussed and shocky. Let’s get him out of here.”

  I don’t want to die. No.

  “Good thing those kids saw it happen and called for help.”

  “Hey, you,” Riley said to the fuzzy paramedic.

  “Responsive,” the paramedic called out to someone then turned back to him. “You’re going to be all right.”

  “Don’t tell my wife.”

  “Don’t tell your wife you’re going to be all right?”

  “No, you stupid fuck. Don’t tell her I got hurt.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure. Sure thing, dude.”

  Shit, he was in a lot of trouble. Just like that other time. Another idiot move on his part. Not expecting Dickhead would sneak up on him and run him off the road since he didn’t have the balls to face him in a fair fight. Should have been prepared. Now he was bleeding. Or something. What happened, again?

  Oh yeah. “He ran me off the road.”

  “I know, I know. Just sit back. We’ll be at the hospital in a minute.”

  Heads up, Jarhead. You know what you have to do. Let her go. She doesn’t have to be here alone waiting for you to come home. It’s messing with her head. Do the right thing.

  “I don’t have anything here, Riley! Not even you.”

  “You’ve always had me.”

  “No, I don’t because you’re making a choice.”

  “I have no choice.” She didn’t get it. He wanted both lives, but she was forcing him to pick one.

  Until his contract was up, he’d be damned if he’d spend his days playing Chicken Little. He had every intention of winning. Besides, he’d signed up for this and wouldn’t back down now.

  You signed up for her, too, asshole. And you love her.

  There is that.

  “Blood pressure ninety over sixty.”

  “Administering epinephrine—”

  Jerky movements. Damn. His arm. Why had someone cut his arm off?

  “What do we have?” Another voice. Strong. Authoritative. Was that his CO?

  “Hit and run. Some asshole ran the chief off the road. The kids saw the whole thing happen.”

  “Imagine the hubris.”

  Someone had a dictionary. Definitely not his CO. The knucklehead was a hell of a warrior but could barely string two words together without using fuck as a comma.

  “Where am I?” Riley asked anyone.

  Bright lights. Beeps of a monitor. Blood pressure cuff slapped on his arm. Lots of voices, and none of them talking to him.

  He tried opening his eyes. “Hey! I said: where am I?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” A nice soothing voice of the female variety. Just not his favorite female voice.

  “I’m in Kandahar.”

  “That’s not right.” She sounded unhappy, but she still didn’t sound like Sophia.

  Sophia. He had to stay alive. That was his only job. He couldn’t screw that up.

  He opened one eye. “I remember. I’m in Starlight Hill. Where my wife lives.”

  With that, he closed his eyes and stopped fighting sleep.

  21

  Ten text messages later and still Sophia had no replies from Riley. Ten! Sophia had now stepped outside half a dozen times in the past two hours and still no Riley. No lights on next door.

  “Where is he?” Sophia asked Hershee, who only licked her paw and had no response.

  The sirens she’d heard about an hour ago just after she’d received a text from Riley that he was headed home had nothing to do with him. That would have been something the old Sophia would imagine, dreading and almost expecting that something horrible should happen because no one on earth deserved this much happiness. No one deserved to love someone like this and have him feel the same way. It was too perfect. Bad things happened all the time.

  Nope, that was the old Sophia. Obviously, something important had held him up and he’d have a good excuse when he arrived. He’d better. Probably one of the kids from his at-risk group had called. Maybe they’d reached out and asked for help and knowing Riley, he’d gone straight there. Riley couldn’t text her and divulge the kids’ confidence. She’d just have to wait patiently.

  A few minutes later Sophia heard the sound of a car door slamming outside and ran to re-light all the candles she’d lined up in the bathtub. Yeah, it was that easy to forgive him. Give her a ticket for swimming in the pathetic lane. She was ‘that girl.’ But Riley didn’t let himself in. Someone was knocking on the front door. One peek through the eye wink and she could see who.

  Scott.

  Oh no. God, no. Scott would be the one to bring her the bad news, if there was any to bring. As a first responder, he’d hear about it right away. It was the civilian equivalent of having an officer knocking on her front door. She swung open the door because maybe, just maybe this could still be about someone else. Diana. One of the girls had a fever. Anything else. One look in Scott’s dark and shut-down expression and she alrea
dy had her answer.

  “Go away, Scott! I don’t want to hear it.” She slammed the door.

  Hershee sounded the alarm. Gave several desperate barks and yips and then jumped to her perch on the couch, growling and baring her teeth.

  Scott stepped inside anyway, determined to ruin her life.

  “Don’t tell me! Shut up!”

  “I’m sorry, honey. It doesn’t work that way.”

  It was true. She couldn’t hide anymore. Hiding hadn’t worked for Nikki and it wouldn’t work for Sophia. The world just kept on spinning and taking everyone she loved away.

  “W-what happened to him?” She took a deep breath and held it.

  “Someone ran him off the road. Motorcycle accident.”

  “Oh, God.” Sophia slid to the floor. That couldn’t happen. Why would anyone run him off the road? “Is h-he dead?”

  “I don’t know how he’s doing, but two of the boys from his youth group found him and called for help.”

  “He’s going to be okay?”

  “Let’s go find out. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”

  A few minutes later, Sophia had thrown up in her toilet, rinsed her mouth out with water, brushed her hair, dressed and was riding with Scott to the hospital. Much as she’d feared and worried over this day, Riley had never been hurt before, and it seemed as though she moved in a nightmare, everyone’s movements hazy and surreal.

  When they were directed to the hospital surgery floor, they found a small crowd in the waiting room. Sophia recognized Claire. Even Bert was there, sitting next to her, his arm draped around her shoulder. The mayor sat next to Bert, furiously typing into her phone.

  A uniformed police officer approached Sophia. “Name’s Luther, ma’am. He just got out of surgery. He’s got a bad concussion, some broken ribs and road rash. Painful, but he’s going to be all right.”

  Sophia felt Scott squeeze her shoulder.

  She struggled to make sense of the information. “He’s not dead? Is that what you’re telling me?”