Aftershocks (18 page)

T
HEY WERE PLAYING
in the backyard. Briana heard Dylan’s voice, and then Fiona’s laughter. It took everything she had not to start crying again.

“Come on.” Shannon pretty much frog-marched her through the house, where they exchanged a hurried greeting with the housekeeper, and then Briana was hustled out to the backyard.

Fiona was holding a big red and yellow plastic baseball bat, chubby legs half-bent, her concentration focused on her brother, who held a red plastic baseball ready to pitch.

“Hi, Dylan. Hi, Fiona,” she called, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

“Briana!” Fiona cried, and ran over for a hug. Briana squeezed the little girl tight in her arms, loving the healthy child scent of her, the fresh air and peanut-butter sandwich and cherry-scented shampoo smell.

How could she have been so foolish?

Glancing around, she noticed that Shannon had slipped back into the house and she was alone with the kids. “You are so special,” she whispered into Fiona’s ear, loving the way the clustered curls tickled her nose.

“Wanna play catcher?” Dylan asked. He’d come within hugging distance, but he was ten now and not
inclined to throw himself into her arms, even though she could tell he wanted to.

She hoped Shannon hadn’t made a mistake, and that saying goodbye was the right thing to do. Briana guessed it probably was, only it was going to hurt. She’d cry for sure, but then that was part of it, she supposed, letting them see she was sad to leave them.

Oh, how she wanted to stay. Now that she’d thrown it away, she knew that Patrick and Dylan and Fiona and even disaster-plagued Courage Bay were the life she’d have chosen.

Blinking swiftly, she said, “Sure.”

She took a turn as catcher, then she pitched for Dylan, who hit the ball into an ornamental fruit tree and proudly climbed up after it.

She had no idea how long they played, but she couldn’t stay much later or she wouldn’t get on the road tonight. Even worse, she knew Patrick had nothing scheduled for this evening. He might come home early, and she couldn’t bear to see him again. Couldn’t bear to see that look of contempt in the same eyes that had glowed with love for her only two days earlier.

“Listen, you two, come here. I have to go soon, and I need to talk to you.”

They did, and she sat on the grass and pulled them both up against her, one on each side. “How come you’re not at work with my dad?” Dylan asked her, and she blinked rapidly.

“I’m not working for your dad anymore,” she said, her voice catching.

“Why not?” Fiona asked. “Don’t you like my dad?”

“Sure, I like him,” she managed to say.

“Me, too.” Fiona gave her a big smile. “I love my daddy.”

“Oh, sweetie, he’s a good man.”

“Then why aren’t you working for him anymore?” Dylan asked. He had a very logical mind.

“Because I did a bad thing.” She sniffed. “I told a lie, and it was very wrong of me.”

Fiona nodded and patted Briana’s cheek with one hand. “But if you say sorry, Daddy won’t be mad anymore. Will you, Daddy?”

Briana started, and turned to follow Fiona’s gaze, her face already heating. Sure enough, Patrick was standing just inside the open doorway into the kitchen and he was looking at her. Not with contempt, and not with the blazing love she’d seen two days ago, but with an expression that was…tender.

Fiona ran toward him and he automatically scooped her up, but he never broke eye contact with Briana. And she, like a fool, couldn’t look away, even though his image was as blurry as though she were viewing him through old-fashioned glass.

“Hi,” Patrick said, stepping forward with Fiona still in his arms.

Oh, God. How much had he heard? “I…I planned to be gone before you got here. Shannon said it would be wrong not to say goodbye to the children.”

“Very wrong.” He was so close now she could reach forward and use her T-shirt to shine his shoes. Or she could stand up. Dylan scrambled to his feet and she did the same.

Briana couldn’t bear to look up past the third button on Patrick’s shirt, but she nodded, tears falling yet
again. “I’m so sorry, Patrick. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but—”

“We told her to tell the truth,” Fiona explained to her dad. “So you won’t be mad.”

“I know that’s too much to ask,” Briana said, “but I’d like a chance to explain.”

He groaned, and she glanced up at him to find the glowing expression she’d believed she’d never see again. “I can’t take another explanation. Cecil Thomson explained everything, then Shannon phoned and I got the whole thing again, along with a few helpful insults about my general intelligence. I really think—”

“Shannon called?”

“About two minutes after you got here, if I know my sister.”

At that moment, the sister in question, who still hadn’t made it back to the fire station, yelled, “Dylan and Fiona, I’ve got an ice-cream cone with your name on it.”

Patrick put Fiona on the ground, and she and Dylan raced for the house.

“I thought she was going to beat me up,” Briana said.

“I think Shannon has a far worse punishment in mind,” he said, reaching forward and touching her wet cheek. “She wants to stick you with me for life.”

Since Patrick’s shoulder was so close, and so inviting, and so solid, Briana leaned into it and, for about the twentieth time that day, burst into noisy tears.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” he said, putting his arms around her and hugging her hard. “I should have let you explain last night. But I was too angry, too shell-shocked. To think you could say you loved me and—”

“I did—I do,” she managed to choke out. “I wanted to figure out who leaked the story about Uncle Cecil, and then you found the tape, and how could you ever believe I wasn’t the evil, manipulative backstabber I seemed. And then I was going to leave, but Shannon said I was running away and made me come and say goodbye to the kids, which was awful, because I love those kids and—”

She stopped for a breath and Patrick was handing her a clean tissue. “I have lots. Shannon supplied me.”

Briana wiped her eyes and blew her nose, but somehow she couldn’t force herself out of the circle of Patrick’s arms. It felt too good to be there again.

Before she could go back to that comforting spot on his shoulder, he tipped up her chin and kissed her, a long sweet kiss that tasted of forever.

“So, you love us, huh?”

She nodded. “I do. I love you. And I love Dylan and Fiona.”

“Will you marry us?”

She glanced up and saw the love shining back at her. “I will.”

There was a hoot from the open door, and suddenly everyone was hugging everyone else. Briana jumped when something wet and squishy hit her in the back, and she realized Fiona had hugged her with her icing cream cone still in her hand. Oh, well, she figured, if she was going to be their mother, she’d better get used to these things.

Like Dylan kissing her cheek.

And Mrs. Simpson, shaking her hand heartily and telling her about her sister-in-law who was a wonderful caterer and brilliant with weddings.

And Shannon, who snatched back one of the tissues she’d given Patrick to wipe her own streaming eyes, then almost broke every bone in Briana’s body when she hugged her.

And Patrick, who said, “By the way, I already found your replacement at work.”

“You have?”

“Yep. She brings me sandwiches at lunchtime. You never brought me sandwiches.”

Briana laughed. “She sounds perfect.”

“You can still transfer to another part of the civil service.”

“Okay. But I’m not in that much of a hurry.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I have a wedding to plan. Fiona? How would you like to be a flower girl?”

“I get to be a flower!” the little girl shouted, spinning in a circle.

“Ring bearer.” She drilled a forefinger at Dylan.

A snicker from behind had her turning to jab the air in Shannon’s direction. “Oh, no…” Shannon said.

“Bridesmaid.”

Patrick laughed richly while his sister shrugged and said, “Love to.”

Briana glanced up and caught Patrick’s eye and felt her heart flip over. “I love you,” she said softly.

He pulled her into his arms and she decided she’d stay there for a while.