Anna's Courage (Rose Island Book 1) (4 page)

“No.” Nick sounded discouraged. Completely different from the confident man I’d met at the party a year ago.

I offered an encouraging smile. “What about you? How are you coping with everything? Ethan was your only brother, right?”

Agony encompassed his face, and I immediately regretted the question. What an insensitive thing to say. “I’m sorry—”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m doing as well as can be expected.”

“If you need anything . . .”

“Sure. I appreciate that.” He gestured toward the church. “I should go find my dad and Hailey.”

“Of course. I’ll carry Gabby inside for you.”

“Thanks.”

A
fter the funeral,
Travis and I joined the procession of cars headed to the gravesite. Rose Island was bike and pedestrian friendly, so I seldom drove. A wide bike path circled the entire island, conveniently passing in front of my house, taking me anywhere I needed to go.

Today, I’d driven my car because the cemetery was located on the other side of the island, near the army post. Tears stung my eyes as the motor patrol officers blocked traffic through town, allowing the mourners to travel together. Watching the other cars pull to the side of the road out of respect for the deceased released a flood of memories from the day we buried Marcus.

“Can I turn on the radio?” Travis asked, reaching for the controls.

I nodded, afraid my voice would break if I spoke. I’d been so numb during my husband’s funeral I hardly remembered it. My parents and sisters had arranged everything, from the scripture readings to the songs.

I’d worn a long-sleeved, black dress but had no idea where it’d come from. One of Marcus’s sisters must have bought it for me, or maybe my own mother had found it.

Regardless, the one thing that stood out from that horrible day was seeing all the cars pull to the side of the road as the procession accompanied the hearse to the cemetery. The considerate gesture moved me so deeply I’d never forgotten it.

“This song is awesome,” Travis said, oblivious to my pain. He turned up the radio and sang along, pounding out a loud rhythm on the dashboard.

I smiled, grateful for his happiness. Without it, today would be unbearable.

At the cemetery, I parked the car but kept the motor running. Travis unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the passenger-side door while I remained seated.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I stared at the above-ground tombstones, typical of many Gulf Coast cemeteries. Chairs and a canopy had been set up for the burial. Declining fall temperatures had turned the grass brown, but a white crepe myrtle bloomed as if holding out its arms and lifting its face in defiance of death.

Nick walked across the brittle grass holding Gabby, while Hailey clung to the hem of his uniform. His father followed several steps behind, keeping his eyes on the ground. I’d never seen Jack Peterson without his phone, and it was an odd sight. My heart ached for the entire family, but as much as I wanted to stay and show my support, I didn’t know if I could make it through the burial. The funeral had been arduous, and I feared the beginning of a migraine.

“Mom?” Travis sat on the edge of the passenger seat, one hand on the opened door and one foot on the ground.

I rubbed at a rock hard knot on the back of my neck. “I’m not feeling well. Would you mind if we just went home?”

He pushed up his glasses and studied me carefully. “Is it because you’re thinking about Dad?”

I nodded and held back the tears threatening to stream forth.

“I’ve been thinking about him a lot, too. Do I look like him? Aunt Jillian says I could be his twin, but Aunt Bianca disagrees. Aunt Vicki says I have his eyes, but I don’t know. What do you think?”

I smiled sadly. Marcus had three older sisters, all of them with distinct personalities and opinions. Jillian was the oldest, followed by Bianca and then Vicki.

“If you compare your picture with your father’s, it’s difficult to see the resemblance. But your personalities are so much alike. I think that’s what Aunt Jillian means when she says you could be his twin.”

“Really?”

I nodded and brushed back his hair. “Your father had the same joyful optimism you have. He always saw the good in people, even when they disappointed him. And like you, your father was a good friend. Not just to me, but to everyone he came in contact with.”

Travis beamed as he closed the car door and put his seatbelt back on. “Okay, Mom. Let’s go home.”

I gave a sad smile in spite of my heavy heart. A knock at the driver’s side window startled me, and I looked up to see Marcus’s middle sister standing next to the car. Bianca owned The Last Tangle—the hair salon where I worked—and she’d been uncharacteristically reserved this morning. Her eyes were now red-rimmed, and her mascara smudged. She offered a weak smile as I rolled down the window.

“Are you coming?” she asked, motioning toward the canopy.

I glanced at Travis. As much as I wanted to go home and crawl into bed, now was the time to be strong and brave. Turning back to my sister-in-law, I nodded. “We’re coming. Just give us a minute okay?”

“Sure.”

I rolled up the window and watched her walk across the grass to embrace Vicki, the youngest Morgan sister. The two women were exact opposites. Vicki was petite and blond while Bianca was a larger woman with auburn hair.

“So we’re staying?” Travis asked.

“I think we should, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I want to stay for Hailey.”

I turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. Travis walked around to take my hand in a gesture that both comforted and surprised me. He hadn’t held my hand in months, at least not in public, and the action deeply touched me.

“I love you,” I said, squeezing his hand.

“Ditto,” he replied, returning my squeeze.

Together, we moved forward and joined the mourners.

*

That night, my
mind raced with thoughts of the past. Sleep evaded me as I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. At some point, Travis crawled into my bed and proceeded to kick me every time I drifted off. No matter how far I scooted to the other side of the bed, his foot found me.

Eventually, I took my pillow downstairs to the couch in the living room. The cat, of course, thought that meant mealtime, so he meowed in protest until I fed him, even though it was only three in the morning.

When I finally fell asleep, I had wildly delicious dreams about kissing Nick on the back porch of the Petersons’ house. As I threaded my arms around his neck, I noticed someone sitting on the railing watching us.

Marcus.

“Why are you doing this to me?” my late husband asked.

I jerked awake, gasping for breath as my heart raced. It didn’t take a degree in psychology to dissect the meaning of
that
dream. I’d found true love with Marcus, and even though it’d been seven long years since his death, kissing another man, no matter how desirable, felt like an act of betrayal.

I managed to fall back into a fitful sleep for a few hours until the doorbell woke me in the morning. The cat walked over my chest as bright sunlight streamed through the curtains of the living room window. What time was it?

Travis thundered down the stairs and headed toward the front door. “Someone’s here.”

“Don’t answer it,” I insisted as the doorbell rang again.

Standing on tiptoes, he peered through the peephole. “It’s Hailey!” Ignoring my warning, he opened the door wide for the entire world to see the morning version of his mother. Only, it wasn’t just the whole world. Nick stood on the front porch, dressed in dark blue jeans and a charcoal cable-knit sweater that set off his eyes.

I folded my arms across my nightgown and tried not to panic. I could only imagine how frazzled I looked with no sleep, no makeup, and crazy lady hair. I asked Hailey if she was coming to school with us today, and she nodded.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” I said, motioning with my hand. “Just give me a minute to get dressed and we’ll go.”

Avoiding Nick’s gaze, I dashed upstairs to my bedroom and threw on yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail and ignored the dreadful woman in the mirror. Why did I care if Nick saw me first thing in the morning? It wasn’t like I was interested in him. It wasn’t like I
liked
him.

Heading back to the living room, I stopped on the stairs and watched Nick in the entryway, looking at my family photographs hanging on the wall. Fully grown men seldom entered my home, so seeing his broad shoulders occupying so much space unnerved me. His height made the ceiling appear low, something I’d never noticed before.

My stomach tingled with a desire to walk up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and give him a big bear hug. I imagined the warmth of his sweater against my cheek and the strength of his hard muscles beneath my fingertips.

As he leaned toward my wedding photo, I held my breath. How many times had I removed that picture only to put it back up? I couldn’t decide if it was better to be constantly reminded of Marcus, or better to forget.

I must’ve made a sound because Nick turned around and met my gaze. My stomach twisted at the intensity in his eyes.

“How old were you when you got married?” he asked, pointing at my wedding photo. “You look so young.”

I swallowed. “We were both nineteen.”

“Nineteen.” He shook his head and started to say something but stopped before giving a curt nod and changing the subject. “My father agreed to stay with Gabby this morning, and I have Ethan’s bike.” His voice faltered on his brother’s name, but he pushed past it and offered to ride with the kids to school this morning.

Instead of a typical carpool, Ivana and I had taken turns riding bikes with the kids to school. It was a short ten-minute trip, and I enjoyed the exercise before work.

“I’ll take them this morning,” I said, grabbing my bicycle helmet from the hall closet. I called for Hailey and Travis, who were using the binoculars to watch a ship cross the bay. Hailey’s eyes were still puffy, but they looked less red this morning than they had at the funeral.

Once outside, the kids raced down the creaky wooden steps to their bikes. Nick hung back on the porch as I closed and locked the front door. His silent presence gave me the ominous feeling he needed something. Slipping the key into the zipper pocket of my sweatshirt, I asked him if everything was okay.

He frowned. “I thought residents didn’t lock their doors on Rose Island during the off-season.”

“I’m probably the only one, but I don’t like to take chances.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the kids, then back at me. “Can I ask you something?”

I braced myself for his question of why I’d ignored his e-mails and friend request on Facebook earlier this year, but instead, he asked something completely different. “Do you think it’s okay Hailey goes to school today? She woke this morning on her own, dressed, and announced she was going. I told her she could stay home, but she doesn’t want to. I haven’t been around kids very much, so I just don’t know if that’s normal.”

I released the breath I’d been holding and chastised myself for being so self-centered. Of course, Nick’s question revolved around Hailey and not my immature response to his gesture of friendship. “If she wants to go to school, I’d let her. Maybe returning to her routine and seeing her friends will be helpful.”

Nick’s face relaxed. “That’s what the grief counselor said, but I wanted your opinion. I know you’re a good mom, Anna.”

Warmth spread through me, and I smiled. “Travis means everything to me.”

“I can tell.” He scuffed his shoe across one of the wooden boards on the porch. “I have a meeting at ten with Ivana’s cousin and his wife before they head back home to San Antonio.”

“Doug and Caroline Kempner?”

He nodded and lowered his voice. “It’s about them taking the girls. Adopting them. Honestly, I still don’t understand why the will named me as legal guardian instead of them.”

“Ethan and Ivana never mentioned it to you?”

He shook his head. “No. Never.”

Despite what I’d thought earlier about Nick’s inability to raise the girls, seeing him care for them at the funeral yesterday had made me question my original assumption. “Maybe your brother and Ivana truly wanted you to raise their daughters.”

A mixture of sorrow and panic flashed across his face. “No, I don’t know anything about kids or being a parent. Plus, I have a three-year obligation to the army, and I’m supposed to deploy again next year. It wouldn’t be fair for the girls to stay with me.”

Frustration thickened his voice, making me feel guilty I’d implied raising the girls on his own would be easy. “I’m sorry. I know you just want what’s best for them.”

“I do,” he said, looking relieved that I finally understood his dilemma. “So, do you think the girls would be okay with the Kempners? Besides my father and me, they’re the only relatives.”

I straightened my ponytail, not wanting to make things more difficult. The last thing Nick needed was a nosy neighbor telling him what to do. “I barely know Doug and Caroline. We met once at your brother and sister-in-law’s housewarming party, and we said hello yesterday . . .”