I Run to You (6 page)

“Hey, beautiful.”

She craned her neck, spying Jason leaning
over the porch rail. “Hey, yourself, handsome.”

The cleft in his chin deepened as he grinned
and winked. Always mature, though having enough of a rogue in him
to balance out the serious hardworking side, the passing years gave
Jason more of the handsome promise in his youth. Were Max was ropy
and hard muscled, tall and taut to go with the innate suave, Jason
had the Coburn brawn that was sleeked enough to make most women
want to tear his T-shirt off. When she had shown his photos around
to her friends in Europe, they had been nuts for wavy black hair
and sapphire eyes.

She’d had to give one of the girls a picture
that her Mom had sent of Jason and Max, shirtless, ridged, brown,
standing barefoot on the boat dock—with their bodies and hair
dripping wet. They had thought Brook was lying until they saw those
home photos, when she said the Coburns were hunks.

Over the den of kids running everywhere,
teens listening to music somewhere else, and several dozen adult
voices, and laughter, she heard the relay of “Brook’s here!” and
felt her heart swell—feeling a whole lot sappy about this crazy
bunch, too.

Before pulling back from the rail Jason gave
her that, you had better get up here or they are coming down,
look.

She headed that way.

Doing some smiling, hugging of the teens, who
mostly lined the steps; she gaped and shook her head at the young
ones all grown up. They were in different stages, school age,
braces, hip, but none of them shy or introverted. It was not
allowed for a Coburn. Was not in their DNA.

“Baby girl!”

Brook stepped into the arms of bearded and
barrel chested G.W. He wore a ball cap with Bass Pro shop on it.
His head was shaved slick. He was in a wife beater and pair of
overalls. He smelled like wintergreen, which she knew was the snuff
he pinched. But, God. He was distinct. Nowhere in the world did
they make them home grown, big hearted, and yet tough as the
mountains, like G.W. His wicked humor aside, he would do, and had
done, everything he could for the family.

Accepting the giant’s bear hug, she
whispered, “I’m so sorry about Lottie.”

“Me too. Sweet thing. Me too.” He released
her. They shared a wink before his brother Alvin grabbed her and
lifted her off the floor.

Tall. Huge, also with a bushy red beard, and
close cut hair, Alvin muttered, “Still skinny as a bean pole.”

“I’m not skinny. You’re just the size of a
tree trunk.”

He guffawed and set her down. His blue eyes
twinkled. “Well you’re pretty enough to be one of us.”

“Modest, as always.” She kissed his
cheek.

“Hell. Those pictures of your slicked up
European men ain’t got nothing us.” He stroked his beard and
winked. “We eat their kind breakfast.”

“I think that’s what they thought of the
photo you and G.W. sent of yourselves.” She cracked up thinking of
it. Apparently, they had been at the lake when the buff brothers
got their beefcake shots taken. As crazy as they were, he and G.W.
shucked down to their drawers and made someone take one of the both
of them—holding Max and Jason over their heads…before they threw
them in the water. Between the barrel chest, the bushy beards, tree
size legs…it was some picture.

Alvin, when he finished crowing, managed, “We
just wanted them to know to mind the way treated you. Just in case
they thought Max and Jason were the only body guards you had.”

“It certainly kept me from getting dates—even
when I wanted one.” she joked.

He was still laughing when she moved on to
the others.

For a while, it was a whirlwind, a roar of
talk over talk, and shaking the hands of boyfriends, new
spouses—being ribbed without mercy by the ones who knew her. They
had stored up plenty of ammunition; half of them pretending she’d
lost her southern drawl—become a snob, and some teasing her over
wild photos of band mates they had seen on line. Those were
convinced that anyone with as many piercing as their drummer had
was in some strange occult. She played it up and earned many laughs
out of it.

Finally, Brook turned at the door and met
Mitch’s baby blue eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to lose your hair and
get ugly,” she teased, her own eyes watering as he hugged her. Even
if he had been bald, he would be the sexiest bald man alive.

“Madeline won’t let me.” He squeezed hard and
then set her back from him.

“I love the house. It’s great. You did a
wonderful job. I love you.”

He grinned that handsome grin of his and
looked pleased. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“In the kitchen, with the other ladies.” He
stepped back to let her in.

They walked that way, Mitch holding her hand
and saying, “She’s so happy you’re home. She’s laughed and cried,
and laughed.”

Brook looked at him grinning. “She’ll get
used to me again.”

He stopped and dropped her hand just before
they reached the others. “That means you’re really staying, for
good?”

“Yep. That’s the plan.”

“I’m so glad Brook. Not just for her. But for
you.”

She read the question in his eyes and nodded.
They had not talked of Coy, not in letters or phone conversations,
but everyone she had met today had some memory of why she left in
their gaze.

“I’m going to be all right. Make Mom believe
that.”

“Hell. You’re Madeline’s daughter. I know
you’ll be okay.”

She kissed his cheek. When she looked up, it
was to see Madeline standing there watching, a fond and sappy smile
on her face.

God, she loved that woman. She totally
understood how a girl from her Mom’s background found everything
she needed in Mitch too. They were just made for each other. He
needed her as much as she needed him. Together they were able to
handle and navigate through the wild and crazy family—and laugh and
cry and be okay at the end of the day. Probably— because they ended
those days in each other’s trusting arms.

Damn, but she was getting as sentimental as
her Mom. Wasn’t she.

Brook went to her for a hug and kiss, sharing
an extra embrace before they parted, because the others were
talking to her, greeting, and welcoming her home.

It became a bit chaotic after that, people
coming in and out, filling plates from the tons of food lining the
tables. The front hewn counter was covered with cakes, pies,
sweets, and the wall lined with coolers of beer, water, sodas, and
tea. Brook found a space on the back counter to eat some of Mitch’s
scrumptious spaghetti. Afterwards, she hopped up and sat there,
sipping beer, calling back at those who spoke, joked—or asked her
to toss another box of plastic silverware, a cup.

She was enjoying it. The roar, the jokes, the
chaos. It was normal in the best kind of normal way. She liked
watching them interact, and amused herself seeing which of the
young adults inherited the same ornery streaks as their parents.
Which of those older ones now—did the threatening and scolding.

Ruby and Jude showed up shortly. Ruby
squalled and rushed at Brook, enveloping her in a wonderfully
scented hug, so that Brook hopped off the counter to keep from
falling.

As usual, in an outfit only Ruby could pull
off, a white and black stripe Audrey Hepburn retro look. Her hair
was shorter, the curls tamed to waves that suited the style, she
wore wedge heeled hemp sandals. After kissing Brook’s face off, she
said on a breathless laugh, “I feel like my first born is
home.”

“I love you, Ruby.” Brook grinned. “I like to
think you’re my back up Mom.”

“Anytime, sugar. No matter how grown up you
get.”

“Absolutely.” Brook agreed.

Ruby introduced the twins. Even though Brook
had photos of them, had spoken to them on the phone, they were
simply precious in person. Both smiled and answered her questions
about school and what not.

It did not surprise her that Jett, the
daughter, was the tomboy. She had on cute overalls and sketchers;
her straight hair was the same blond hue of Jude’s. There was that,
fearless, not afraid of anything— and I know I can do anything—look
about her, that amused Brook. She figured they girl would display
the protective instincts that Coburns have when anyone around her
was threatened.

Remy, with curly brown haired seemed the
artistic, sensitive one. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, blue
converse, his amber eyes having that observant, taking it all in,
expression. Though they both spoke comfortably and laughed at her
lame jokes, she had seen in his drawings even when he was a
toddler, that he had Ruby’s gifts.

When they ran off to join the others, and
Ruby was drawn away, Brook found herself facing Jude.

His hair was still that streaked honey blond
and long, but it was layered, stylish, and hip. He had not given up
his black T-shirts, leather and motorcycle boots, but any fool
could see the changes. His visage had always been handsome, in a
hard way. Jude was the bad ass, the kiss my ass, brother. However,
Brook saw what having Ruby and kids had done for him. There was a
light in his eyes, that was pure love.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She smiled.

His sinewy hands came up. “Do I get a
hug?”

“Sure.” She laughed and hugged him, feeling
the tough lean strength of his body. He was deeply tanned. She saw
that twinkling diamond ear stud as he stepped back, raking fingers
through the layered hair. Both his wrists had tattoos—and she did
not doubt for a moment Ruby had designed them, since her name was
clear in the center of one.

“You look great.” Jude skimmed her over,
grinning. “I saw all the pictures you sent Ruby, but you really are
grown up and beautiful.”

She blushed. “Y’all gotta’ stop that. All
that gushing will turn my head.” She laughed and rolled her eyes.
“As G.W. says, I still ain’t got no ass.”

Jude chortled loudly, then before joining
Ruby leaned down and whispered, “Next time he says that, ask him
how would he know, he ain’t seen below his beer gut in twenty
years.”

She snorted and returned his wink before he
joined Ruby.

Drifting, she finally ran into Renee on the
porch. The woman was wearing cut offs and a white T-shirt, clogs.
They air kissed and exchanged a grin as they were caught in a
crossfire of a good-natured debate between the men about some local
drag race. Brook made her way down the steps, and was going to
stroll around the side yard, when Max’s voice drew her
attention.

Looking down where he had parked, she felt a
sweat break out on her back, knowing before they reached her—who
that curly haired boy beside him would be.

Inwardly chasing calm in a surprising grip of
panic, she embraced Max, held onto him a bit long, and felt the
flex of his sinewy arm reassuring her before he murmured, “You’ll
like him. It’s going to be okay.”

Her arms slid loose and she took a step back.
Her gaze slid over the waiting boy, whose mouth held a curious
smile. Those wheat and white curls grew like a halo on his head.
Despite his husky build and tallness for his age, he was simply
perfect. A beautiful kid.

“Hi. I’m Brook. Max’s sister.” She held out
her hand. All the while, her eyes saw both Karla and Coy in him.
Her heart was hurting and stomach so tight she had to think to
breathe.

“I’m Levi.” He took it and smiled, obviously
looking her over. “You’re prettier than pictures. But kind of
skinny. Not the bad kind though.”

“Thank you,” she offered over Max’s
laugh.

Their hands parted and she watched him tuck
his in the pockets of his shorts. His shirt had a wolverine graphic
on it. But, she could not stop looking at his face. Karla’s eyes,
Coy’s hair color, Karla‘s curls, Coy’s nose and chin. Coy’s mouth.
It was painful and yet amazing how they blended in him to make such
a good-looking boy.

He said finally, “Coy’s my dad. He’s Grandpa
Jude’s boy. He couldn’t come. He had to pick up his guitar.”

Brook made herself smile. “Yeah. Well. I’m
glad you could be here. I’ll bet you’re anxious to see all the
cousins.” She glanced over where the kids were already chaffing to
come and get him.

“Yeah. It’s cool. Dad wanted me to fish with
him today. I like to fish. But I like it when the family‘s all over
here.”

“I‘ll bet you do. It gives you a chance to
play with your cousins.”

He nodded and shuffled his feet a moment
before his eyes met hers and a second passed. “Aunt Madeline takes
all us kids out for Ice Cream, into Diamond Back on Wednesdays. She
talks about you all the time. I saw tons of pictures of you
here.”

“Mom’s the greatest.”

He swallowed and looked as if he would say
something, then finally murmured, “I got lots of grandmas and
cousins and stuff. I don’t have a Mom yet.”

Her stomach twisting, heart suddenly aching,
Brook managed, “Like Wolverine, huh. You’re a lone wolf.”

He laughed and nodded. “Well kind of, except
I have a big family. So I’m lucky.”

“You’re very lucky.” Glancing at Max, who
gave her a searching look; Brook reached out and touched his face,
then dropped her hand. “It was really good to meet you.”

“You too.” Levi smiled fully now. “I’ll see
ya later.”

“Okay.” She nodded, watching him run off and
join Remy and Jett. She remembered her Mom saying he knew nothing
of Karla, and likely, if he did, it would only hurt him to know the
truth of why she’d had him. Although the family probably loved him
to pieces, she felt for him. She did not want to, but he was a
child, despite how strong he looked, he was just a little boy.

She was aware without looking up and around
that, many of the Coburns had stopped talking, or whatever they
were doing, to witness that meeting.

She glanced and Max and murmured, “He’s
beautiful.”