I Run to You

7:24 PM 6/7/2013

I Run to You

Bring On the Rain –

Book Two

Eve Asbury

Copyright © 2008 – 2012) Eve Asbury

All rights reserved. No part of this
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without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser.

The right of Eve Asbury to be identified as
the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First E-book Edition 2010-revised 2012

First Edition

2nd Edition July 2012

All characters in this publication are purely
fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is
purely coincidental

Published by Gayle Eden at Smashwords.

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Copyright 2011 Gayle Eden (reissue)2013

*Any songs/lyrics mentioned, other than those
composed by the author/character, are copyrighted by the performing
artists/writers/record labels and so on*

To all the (Cornbread brothers/sisters) who
hung out at our house growing up. To men/and women, who play music,
and work hard. For all men—anywhere— who love their woman well.

Chapter 1

“Oh God, I can’t believe you’re really
here!”

Brook Logan found herself swallowed in her
mother, Madeline’s, embrace.

She dropped her suitcases on the living room
floor and hugged her back.

“Seven years. Well, not really. I came home
year before last, for Mrs. Dupree’s funeral.”

Madeline released her and while staring
around the little house she had raised Brook in, murmured, “I miss
her. Everyone does. Mostly Sunny. We used to tease him about
spending so much time with her. But they were really good
friends.”

“I know. She and Aunt Gee Gee became phone
pals. She flew all the way to Ireland to see our first
concert.”

Brook shook her head, thinking of those years
with her all-girl band. She said to Madeline, “First we lost her
and then Aunt Gee Gee. It was like losing the only grandmothers I’d
known.”

Madeline nodded, very aware of how much both
older women had supported her daughter, and having mourned Aunt Gee
Gee, too. Both she and Max, as if grieving their own mother.

Running her hand through her nape length
russet hair, she asked, “So what do you think about Mitch’s
surprise?”

“It’s amazing what he’s done here.” Brook
turned, having admired the country garden landscaping outside,
remembering their straggling yard when she was growing up, and how
her Mom struggled to grow anything resembling grass.

They walked around the interior.

Her stepfather Mitch had knocked out walls,
put in big windows, and opened it up. He had added a new porch
too.

The colors inside were neutral, earthy,
except for the jade stone in the bathroom, and the room that would
be her bedroom, which was a cool lavender with white accents. The
kitchen had been a nightmare from the 70’s, but now had a long
granite bar, built in sink, and drop in stovetop. Though not large,
there was a new fridge, sleek shelves and a wine rack.

The airy living room had a higher ceiling,
recessed lights. Madeline had added a comfortable sectional in that
main area as a welcome home gift.

“It’s hard to believe it’s the same house.”
Madeline put her hand on Brook’s shoulder. They were both eyeing
the French doors leading to the back deck.

“I remember if more than three people were in
here, you felt like the house was full.”

They laughed.

Madeline helped Brook take the suitcase in.
They unloaded her car while talking, making general comments about
the changes in Diamond Back, Brook had observed driving
through.

Speaking of driving, the Volkswagen was a
long ago graduation gift which Brook had only driven when she had
flown in for the funeral. It had been safe in the garage. Mitch
kept it in good shape for her. She had been happy to see it waiting
at the airport—even though she had to cram it full of her luggage.
She had been sending things ahead, for the past year—. Her art,
musically influenced—other great pieces Max, her half-brother, had
sent over the years. Quirky things. Her precious collection of bass
guitars too. Which she had crated and double insured, and were now
hanging on the living room wall.

Having lived the student slash vagabond band
existence awhile, the majority of her boxes contained her computer,
laptop, books, and many posters, shot glass souvenirs, things her
friends had given her—things to remember them by.

Seated on the edge of the darker purple
comforter, Madeline watched Brook put away her things in a closet,
much bigger than the original.

“I was worried, thinking you’d never come
back here to live.”

Brook turned from hanging up the garment
bags. Her eyes going over her now 45-year-old mother, who though
having laugh lines, a few pounds added here and there, retained a
mother -earth freshness. Someone whom Brook realized—once she grew
out of that teen judgmental stage—was a handsome woman.

Madeline still wore Levis and T-shirts, or
chambray, with her cowboy boots or clogs. Her preferred shorts were
still cutoffs. They suited her. As Mitch often commented, not many
women could fill out the ass of a pair of Levis like his wife. He
made no secret he loved Madeline’s generous curves.

Brook shifted her guitar case to the floor
and sat on the other side, facing Madeline.

She had gotten her mother’s violet eyes, as
had her half-brother, Max. She was taller than her mother, longer
waist, more angular—not having her mother’s generous breasts—which
were an asset in Europe she had discovered, smaller bust. She still
felt so much a part of this woman who had struggled through much of
life entirely on her own, doing everything for her that Brook’s
grandmother never had for Madeline—giving so much—while her own
life and secrets were haunting her.

As an adult, Brook was amazed by her mother’s
strength.

Over the years, Madeline and Mitch had flown
to see her twice. She had met them in California last year, as well
as Max and Jason—Mitch’s son by his first wife. Brook had flown
there to celebrate with Max who had been the recipient of a
prestigious journalism award. He was taking a break now—Max—to do
his writing and photography, having built his vacation home at
Copper Creek Lake.

Maxwell Lambert Griffin was the son Madeline
had given up for adoption, to her Aunt Gee Gee, a son she had with
Mitch Coburn at seventeen. Jason being Mitch’s son with the wife he
divorced—all of them—like all of the Coburns, making a family
somehow, and extremely close. They were all very supportive of
Brook too.

Only she, her mother, and Renee Chambers,
Mitch’s niece, whom she had grown close to, kept in touch with via
phone and letters—Ruby Peyton Coburn, Madeline’s friend and sister
in law, knew Brook intimate enough to realize why she had stayed
away longer than planned—much longer than anyone thought she
would.

“I wanted to come back, to start life again
here, right after I finished my training.” Brook confessed. She had
studied physical therapy and worked with war veterans, later via
Max’s suggestion, she had worked with sports injuries.

For the first year away But, she had waited
tables, tended bar, joined a band, and tried to find some balance
after the devastation of Coy Coburn and her best friend Karla’s
betrayal.

She declared, “It took time to figure out who
I was. No longer the small town cheerleader. No longer the someone,
everyone knew. I was angry-lost…”

Madeline covered her hand. “I know,
sweetie.”

Brook smiled and drew in a steadying breath
before letting it out in a rush. She did not want her Mom to worry.
She was a grown woman. Wasn’t that why she had come back. Because
she could handle this.

“Over time, I reached down into the roots you
gave me. Using the things, I learned from your strength. Yes, from
your friendship with Ruby. I knew I could do anything, but I saw
what status and wanting to be something— just to be accepted, did
to dad—who by the way, is on his 8th marriage.”

“I heard.” Madeline chuckled.

“He is no longer in car sales. In fact, the
business is bust. He’s found some Vegas lady who keeps him up.”

Brook shook her head and they both
chuckled.

“Anyway. I wanted to do something that
mattered. Even after Aunt, Gee Gee left Max and that inheritance. I
loved the gigs, playing music, loved the people I met, the
places—but like Max, I am a child of my roots.

I wanted to see familiar faces, and be where
what I did would make some difference. I still love the music.
Love, in some sense, the club life. As strange as that sounds.
Nevertheless, everyone has to start being an adult at some point.
That vulnerable part of me was more afraid of it, than anything
else. I could have lived free and fun with the rest that privileged
crowd. But, something was missing. Even in the best fun, it was
just… not there.”

“When we did that concert for disabled
veterans, I pretty much knew what it was. Some of the group was
negative about war. Our opposing political views sometimes made
quarrels spring up. To me, they were men and women who fought for
everyone’s freedom. We owe them respect. I also learned working
with kids, even ordinary people, how touch heals. I missed the balm
of my family.” She shrugged. “It sounds corny, but it’s true.”

“It doesn’t sound corny. It sounds like the
sensitive and caring young woman I raised. In some ways, Max is
like that with writing and photography. In its own way, it comes
from him, tells a story, speaks to you, and makes you feel things.”
Madeline squeezed her hand then got to her feet, walking to the
window, looking out. “I know this still wasn’t easy for you.”

Brook stood too and leaned against the
dresser. She had dressed comfortably, in low-rise denims and a Tank
T-shirt of white cotton, her slip on sandals. She still streaked
her russet hair with gold but wore it in a short chic style that
set off her good bones and suited her svelte frame. She plunged in
and said what her Mom was not going to, “You mean—because Coy moved
back too?”

Madeline glanced over her shoulder, her
violet eyes concerned. “He’s built a house on the lake, three miles
from Max’s.”

“I was aware of that. Max said
something—”

“That’s not all.” Madeline turned. “I got a
letter from Jenna, who, as you know, moved to the Carolinas. She
told me that Karla had met Bill Dodd at the upscale strip club she
worked in—and it looks like they’re going to get married.”

Brook’s brows raised, shocked, — despite the
fact that nothing about Karla Boggs should be able to shock her.
Bill Dodd was sixty-years-old now. She remembered that he owned a
big stone house in town and worked some foreman’s job at a
corporate chemical plant.

Brook was aware of Karla’s wild lifestyle
from hints Ruby dropped. Ruby being married to a Coburn, Mitch’s
brother, and was in essence—Coy Coburn’s stepmother. She had thrown
out bits of information over the years. Yeah—okay, Brook was
shocked that Karla was that money hungry—and that she had the nerve
to move back to Diamond Back, considering she’d all but extorted
money from the Coburns before giving them custody of the son she
had with Coy. Somewhere inside, it disturbed Brook, but she hid it
from Madeline.

“I’m sure we can avoid each other,” she
managed to sound casual.

Madeline was not fooled. She held Brook’s
gaze and murmured, “As much as he’s been an off subject between us.
I have to admit, Coy has raised Levi on his own—even when he played
pro football, before the injury ended his career. He made sure Ruby
and Jude flew Levi out to be with him. He was a real Dad to that
boy.

Not once, did Karla show her face around
here. That is why this move of hers worries me. According to Jenna,
she has always lived high and fast. Because of the custody
conditions, and the money they paid her—she has never violated that
agreement and interfered in Levi’s life. He is seven years old. Coy
says he hasn’t asked yet—about his mother. Although Jenna keeps in
close touch and gets to see him. Karla, as I understand it, earned
a lot exotic dancing—but had friends who were busted for coke and
pills. I just don’t like it.”