Her Very Own Family (8 page)

“Looks like you’ve got some company,” Nelson said as he drove within view of the mill.

A man sat on her front porch, and a silver car was parked in the shade nearby. She didn’t recognize him, but she didn’t have to. Her hammering heart rate told her it wasn’t anyone she wanted to see.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Brady look from the man to her. “You know him?” he asked.

Audrey tried to quell her rising panic and sound casual. “No.” She didn’t elaborate, afraid her voice would break. She needed to get Nelson and Brady out of here before this stranger said something to ruin everything. Despite her care, she felt Brady tense.

When Nelson came to a stop, she slid out of the truck and headed straight for the man. She forced a friendly smile she was far from feeling. “Hello, can I help you?”

The man stood, his khakis and golf shirt contrasting with her shorts and tee. “Yes, I’m Joe Spellman. We’ve spoken before.”

The reporter. The bastard didn’t take no for an answer. Her panic ratcheted up another notch.

She spoke, interrupting him before he said any more. “Oh, yes, if you’ll give me a few minutes, we’ll talk.” Again, before he could respond, she spun and walked toward Nelson and Brady to keep them from coming any closer. She felt her fake smile threaten to crack as she turned her back to Spellman.

Brady saw her distress and took a few steps toward her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ve just got to take care of some business. How about we plan that dinner for tomorrow night instead?”

Brady stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I can stay.”

“No need.”

He glanced past her toward Spellman before capturing her gaze. “I saw how that guy being here affected you when we drove up. You didn’t want to see him. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

She glanced to where Nelson was also eyeing Spellman, then edged back a step. “You’re overreacting. He isn’t here to hurt me.” Not physically, anyway.

“Who is he?”

“Nobody. Really, you two go on home. Tell Sophie we’ll reschedule the dinner.”

He looked like he was going to argue again, so she took one of his hands between hers. “I’m fine, I swear. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Brady shot what could only be called a warning look
over her shoulder toward Spellman. It might have annoyed her at some points during her life, but right now it warmed her to have someone care about her even a little. But she had to get him out of here before Spellman destroyed what might be the start of something.

Her common sense tried to intrude, telling her that there could never be anything more than what she currently had with Brady. If she went further, she’d have to tell him about who she was. And she couldn’t envision that turning out well.

“Will it help if I promise to call if I need you?”

Brady still didn’t look happy about leaving, but he nodded.

“Are you sure?” Nelson asked from the other side of his truck.

“Yes.”
Please, just go before Spellman opens his mouth again.

For a moment, she thought Brady might kiss her. Part of her so wanted that kiss, but she couldn’t allow that to happen in front of the reporter. She didn’t want Brady touched by whatever Spellman had in mind. Instead of moving in for a kiss, however, Brady squeezed her hand then headed for his own truck. She didn’t move until he followed his father down the lane and out of sight.

“Looks like you’ve made some friends here already,” Spellman said from behind her.

She took a deep, slow breath before facing him, but it didn’t help. Her nerves were still firing like a string of firecrackers. “What do you want?”

“An interview.”

“No.”

“Hear me out.” He advanced a few steps toward her.

She maneuvered past him to situate herself next to the porch. If he became too much of a problem, she could go inside and lock him out. “You people made my life hell for months. What makes you think I’d cooperate now?”

He looked confused. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“I erased it.”

“What I said was that I wanted to tell your side of the story.”

She pointed toward herself. “My
side
of the story is the truth.”

“Then let’s tell people that.”

She shook her head. “I tried that already. Didn’t work out so well.” She sighed. “I just want to get on with my life. I don’t want to relive this over and over.”

Spellman exhaled and paced for a moment. “I thought with the change in the situation you might want to speak out.”

“You mean the fact investigators are looking to possibly make more arrests and you want to be there for the scoop because you think it’s me?”

He frowned as if she’d lost her mind. “No. I’m talking about your mom’s condition.”

“Condition?”

“Yeah, the breast cancer diagnosis.”

Audrey’s head spun, and she sat down hard on the edge of the porch. Cancer? Of all the reasons she’d
thought this man had shown up in her new life, this scenario had never even entered her mind.

Spellman kneeled in front of her. “Are you okay?”

God, no, she wasn’t okay. Her mother, the woman she’d pushed out of her life, had cancer. She felt the first hint of wheezing in her lungs but fought to calm herself. Having an asthma attack in front of this man, leaving herself vulnerable, was not an option.

She let her head fall forward into her hands and stared at the ground. Bile burned the back of her throat, and the sandwiches from the Sandbar Café threatened to make an unwanted reappearance. She heard movement, but it didn’t register what Spellman was doing until he returned from his car and extended a bottle of water to her. With shaky hands, she took it, wishing it were something much stronger. Something that would make the world go away and cause Spellman’s words to reveal themselves as lies.

Audrey downed half the bottle before meeting Spellman’s eyes.

He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry. I figured you knew.”

She stared hard at him. “Why would you assume that?”

“Because she’s your mother.” His gentle tone irritated her. Like he cared about her or her mother beyond the story they could provide him.

“And I haven’t talked to her in months,” Audrey said, her voice rising. “If you’d done your homework, you’d know that. What my mother did ruined my life. I had to start over, and now you’re here to ruin this one.”

“I’m not.” His words were calm and sounded genuine, but Audrey ignored that fact because she wanted to be mad at him, at the entire situation.

“Most people would have taken the clue when I didn’t call back that I didn’t want to talk.”

Spellman slid his hands into his pants pockets. “I may be a journalist, but I’m the first to admit there’s a pack mentality in my profession. This is what I do, go through past coverage and try to figure out what angle hasn’t been covered.”

“And you figured you’d show up and shock me into saying something that would get a juicy headline and you a front-page byline.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You always think the worst of people?” He didn’t sound accusatory, merely curious.

“I didn’t used to.” Once upon a time, she’d sought out the good in everyone. She’d believed in the work her mother’s ministry was doing—wonderful social and economic projects to help the world’s poor, both in the U.S. and abroad. Some of it had been real; she’d seen it with her own eyes. But there’d been lies, too, lies that still tore her apart when she allowed herself to think of them.

Her insides twisted. The old anger toward her mother tugged at her from one side while worry about her mother’s health pulled at the other. She didn’t know how to feel.

Spellman sat at the edge of the porch. “I’ve talked to your mother several times. She’s a good woman.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if this was part of his disarming technique to get interviewees to open up. “Good people don’t steal from others.”

“She knows what she did was wrong, and she’s sorry. For hurting you most of all.”

Audrey sat stunned by the revelation for several heartbeats, wondering how well he knew her mother. “She should have thought of that before she bilked people out of money so she could live her cushy lifestyle.”

Spellman clasped his hands together and let them hang between his knees. “All I’m saying is that I don’t believe the situation is all black and white. There’s a significant amount of gray.” He slid a card from his pocket and placed it on the porch between them. “I only wanted to speak to you in person, but I won’t push anymore. If you ever change your mind and find you want to talk, give me a call.”

She sat stone-still as he walked to his car, got in and drove away. Hoping to escape the maelstrom raging inside her, she stood on shaky legs and walked toward the creek, followed it away from the mill into the forest. As if the heavens felt the need to match her mood, the forecasted rain arrived early. She paid it no heed, letting her clothes get soaked for the second time today. Thinking back to the earlier reason, she stopped and propped her hand against the rough bark of a tree. She let memories of the wonderful hours she’d spent canoeing with Brady push aside some of her sorrow for a moment.

As insane as it sounded, she was dangerously close to falling for Brady Witt, and falling hard. Those beautiful emotions tangled with the anger that her mother’s actions had made her life so difficult and the new fear that she might very well lose the only parent she had left.
Even if she hadn’t talked to her mom in months, at least she’d known she was still out there, still breathing.

Audrey propped her forehead against the tree and let her mind rove back over memories of her mom, good ones. Thomasina tucking her in at night and reading her bedtime stories. The time they’d gone to Disney World and her mom had ridden “It’s a Small World” with her at least a dozen times. The way she’d made chocolate-chip pancakes for Audrey’s birthday every year until she’d gone to college.

She pulled back her hand and slapped her palm against the tree, then again, and again, over and over. The rain started to fall harder as she let out an anguished cry, dropped to her knees and let the sobs come.

B
RADY DROVE
into the clearing next to the mill, glad to see the unknown man’s silver car was gone. Still, as he stepped out into the rain and didn’t see Audrey, something felt wrong. He’d been a fool to leave her despite her assurances that all was okay. She’d been upset by the man’s appearance. Anyone could have seen that. Was this man what she’d been running from? When she’d watched the lane to the mill with anxiety tightening her expression, had she been afraid this man would show up?

Brady shoved down images of Shawn Bennett, the man Ginny had kept hidden from him, the one she’d plotted with to get Brady’s money.

Even with those thoughts plaguing him, he was still worried about Audrey. Why had he relented and left as she asked? But he’d only been able to stay at his
dad’s house about twenty minutes, ones in which he’d paced and worried, before he’d said to hell with it and driven back here.

But the area was too quiet now. Sure, the rain was pattering against the leaves in the trees and the tin roof of the mill, but the absence of any sound caused by Audrey had him hurrying toward the front door. Halfway there, he heard a cry from the wooded area on his left.

Audrey. Fear shot through him like a lightning bolt.

He’d kill the bastard if he’d hurt her. He raced toward the sound of her cries, his heart beating faster with each stride. He found her on her knees next to a tree, bent low and crying. She jumped and her eyes rounded when he slid to his knees beside her.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” He ran his hands over her hair, down her arms, checking for injury, desperate to find the hurt and make it go away. “What did he do to you? I swear I’ll kill him.”

Audrey shook her head. “He didn’t do anything.”

Brady didn’t believe her. “He had to. You’re in the middle of the woods crying your eyes out.”

She lifted a shaky hand to wipe at her cheeks then stared toward the creek. A deep, mournful sigh escaped her, making her appear as if she was going to crumple. Watching her like this made him ache with helplessness.

“What is it?”

She looked down to where she clasped her hands tightly together. “My mom is ill. She has cancer.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” He pulled her into his
arms, and the chill from her body soaked into him. “Come on, we need to get you inside. You’re freezing.”

She didn’t balk, but simply let him guide her to the mill. Once inside, he sat her on one of the benches along the wall and took off her socks and shoes. “You need to go change.”

Audrey stood, zombielike, took two steps before stopping. “Come with me.”

At first he thought it was her distress talking, that she didn’t think she could make it up the stairs. But then their eyes met and he grasped her meaning.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Though it pained him, he shook his head. “I don’t think now is the best time.”

A tear trickled out of her eye, and that undid him. He walked forward and took her into his arms again, telling himself he would help her upstairs then leave her to undress alone. She clung to him as if desperate for the warmth and comfort he could offer, and he knew he’d give it to her. He was a weak, weak man. Audrey didn’t let go as he guided her up the creaking wooden stairs to her living area. His eyes found the bed first, and he couldn’t stop his body’s reaction to the thought of lying in it with her.

Her thoughts were running along the same track as she clasped his hand and led him toward the bed. When she reached down and pulled her shirt over her head, his breath caught as if it had forgotten the way out of his lungs.

“Audrey.”

“Shh.” She lifted to her toes and placed her mouth on his.

The kiss went from a touch to deep hunger in a flash and, heaven help him, he gave in. He was a man with a half-naked, soaking-wet woman in his arms, after all. Even the sound of the rain on the tin roof faded as the rest of their clothes went flying in all directions and they wrapped themselves together under the covers.