Montana Homecoming (15 page)

“Just talk to him. Tell him.” Colbie retrieved her spatula and flipped an egg. “My guess? He’ll understand. You can’t let the past diminish your future. Isn’t it worth the risk?”

Yes,
her heart answered.
No,
her fears said.

“Just think about it.” Colbie flipped another egg and the front door squeaked open. The twins’ conversation echoed in the little entryway. “Hey, you two.”

“I’ll go wake Lil and help get her dressed.” Brooke pushed away from the counter. Time to get the day started. It was another big day ahead of them.

“No way, your breakfast is almost ready,” Colbie said over the scrape of the spatula and the spit of frying eggs.

“Too bad. I’m doing it.” She launched away from the counter. “Don’t even think about arguing.”

“Since when did you get so bossy?” Colbie tilted her head. “Does this mean you like it here? That you can’t live without us?”

“I know what you’re doing. I can’t stay.” She paused at the doorway, smiled at the twins and took in Colbie and her spatula. Her dear sisters. The bigger question might be how was she going to leave?

“Thanks for helping with Mom.” All humor faded as Colbie lifted the pan from the stove. Gratitude shone in her blue-violet gaze.

“No problem. You’re not alone, not while I’m here.” Brooke turned on her heel. She could feel her sister’s smile light up the morning.

* * *

Brooke. Liam couldn’t concentrate on anything else as he ambled across the street. Not the ring of his cell phone. Not the familiar faces of his peers in the morning crowd rushing toward the courthouse. Not even the curb at his feet, which he almost tripped on.

Amazing, incredible and sweet Brooke, a woman he could believe in. She lit his life like the sun and moon combined. Only her face stood out in the swarm of folks, lovelier than all the rest. Certainty filled him as he gripped his laptop case, cut in front of a crew from the local TV station and arrowed in her direction.

“Liam!” she called, too far away to talk but the affection shining in her voice was answer enough. It felt like a prayer answered and he was grateful down to his soul.

She set the brake on Lil’s wheelchair, her glossy dark hair tumbling forward to shield her face. A good twenty yards separated them, but the devotion he felt for her bridged any distance. The happiness of their morning run stuck with him—and that kiss. He shook his head. His heart thumped in his chest. Nothing on earth had been as pure as her kiss.

“It’s Liam!” Colbie called, finally spotting him in the crowd. With the McKaslin family surrounding Lil’s chair, he lost sight of Brooke for a moment. When she rose from kneeling, her long silky curtain shifted, revealing her smile.

One that matched his. He had it bad for her. Tenderness ebbed higher, threatening to overflow. Places in his spirit opened and gentled simply from looking at her. He had to ignore the fear of trusting another woman again because he didn’t want to miss out on this chance with Brooke. She wasn’t Sidney. She wasn’t walking around with secrets to hide. He knew the real Brooke. He loved her.

Love. He shook his head. He never thought that would happen again. Somehow the wounded places in him had healed. Good thing the no trespassing sign had come down on his heart.

“Hi, stranger.” Brooke waltzed forward to meet him and their gazes clashed as if God was bringing them together.

This time he wouldn’t get hurt. This time a happily-ever-after was meant to be.

“Need any help?” He resisted the need to pull her close. He was bashful, his heart far too exposed. “I’m an excellent wheelchair pusher.”

“Then we’ll put you to work.” She held out her hand and he enfolded it in his. Perfect fit.

“How’s Bree doing?” He nodded toward the SUV where the brothers were taking charge of Colbie’s keys and making sure Lil had everything she needed. “I heard it might be her day today.”

“Maybe this afternoon. Depends on timing.” Her stomach knotted in worry for her sister. She knew firsthand how difficult and intimidating it was to sit in that seat and relive the worst moments of your life.

“She looks good. Something tells me her family rallying around her doesn’t hurt.”

“Plus Max hasn’t left her side.” It meant everything to see how devoted Bree’s fiancé was to her. It helped her believe that maybe there were more happy endings in this world than sad ones.

Hope. It lifted through her like grace. With Liam’s fingers twined through hers it felt as if nothing could go wrong. Only blue skies ahead. As long as he understood when she told him the truth.

“Liam.” A woman stepped out of the crowd to block their way. Her curly brown hair and heavy makeup seemed vaguely familiar. “Rumor has it your grandfather’s back at work. Glad to hear it. Looks like you’ve got yourself an exclusive.”

The reporter. The one who’d approached her in the courthouse. Brooke’s jaw dropped. Ice shot through her veins. She watched in horror as the woman cut her cold eyes Brooke’s way.

A chill fluttered through her, a warning of what was to come. She tried to pull Liam away but her feet froze to the ground. She couldn’t move one muscle, not one, as panic drilled through her.

No.
The only word that flashed in her mind.
No. No. No.

“I’m doing a piece on recovery. With your drug history, maybe you could give me an interview.” A catlike smile crept across Tasha Brown’s features. “It would tie in nicely with the trial. What do you say?”

Time stood still. The din of the crowd faded to silence. In the space between heartbeats her eyes met Liam’s. She read the shock in his honest blue depths, the disbelief. This was the time to tell him the truth, that she wasn’t in recovery, that she’d never touched an illegal substance in her life, but time reared forward too quickly. The buzz of the crowd blurred around them, disbelief changed to hurt on his face as the reporter’s words sank in and he dropped her hand.

It was too late. She had no time to explain before he backed away, holding up his hands as if wanting nothing to do with her. She saw all her hopes plunge to the ground and shatter against the concrete.

Right along with her heart.

Chapter Fifteen

“S
he served a seven-year sentence. Didn’t she tell you? Transporting an illegal substance across the border. Very serious charge.” Tasha Brown’s voice sounded tinny and distant, hardly noticeable above the thundering thud of his pulse in his ears. Liam shook his head, knocking away the last remnants of disbelief.

He’d let Brooke in, all the way in. He’d trusted her, the first woman he’d trusted since he’d been hurt. This wound? It cleaved all the way to his soul. His body rocked with pain so sharp his vision blurred. She stood there looking as innocent as ever. Sun gleaming in her long dark hair, delicate heart-shaped face, honest violet-blue eyes.

Not so honest. Not so innocent.

“You lied to me.” The earth tipped and betrayal struck with a lethal blow. He fisted his hands and braced his feet, determined to hold on. “After what I told you, you knew.”

“Just let me explain.” The plea ardent in her eyes seemed to well up from the bottom of her entire being. For a moment he wanted to believe her, to believe in her, his sweet Brooke.

Then reason kicked in. He gave thanks for that. He’d been fooled once, but this was twice now. He thought of how gullible he’d been seeing only the good in her. How kind she’d been to Oscar, how beautiful she’d looked laughing in the May sunshine, how poignantly real with open heart and chaste kiss. He blew out a huff of air, frustrated with himself, angry with her and hurting. Just hurting.

“I told you about Sidney. You sympathized with me.” The words had to be said. He hauled her by the wrist away from Tasha Brown, whose catlike grin had doubled. The instant his fingers closed around Brooke’s slender wrist, emotion crashed through him like a tidal wave. Pure tenderness, complete sweetness and the love brimming from his soul he had to deny.

“You let me believe in you, but you are just like her.” He dropped her wrist, pushed all the tenderness from his heart, crushed the love in his soul. “Day after day you made me think you were someone you weren’t. Are you still using?”

“I never did.” Wide eyes, trembling voice, she gazed up at him like she’d been wounded to the core. “I promise you. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Like he could believe it. She had innocence down. He’d never seen a more convincing show. She was good. He had to give her that. “Funny, I’ve heard that before. We’re done, Brooke.”

“Wait, hear me out. I was driving up for a vacation in Canada. I was going to meet Darren there—”

“Don’t bother. I don’t want to hear your excuses. Seven years?” She was a convict. That pierced like a carving knife. Prison. She’d served a drug sentence. How could he not have seen that coming? Better question was, why hadn’t he done a background search on her? He’d had the resources at the paper. He had to stop being such a trusting man. Disgusted, he stepped farther away from her. “I don’t know you at all.”

“Yes, you do. Everything I told you was true.” Tears stood in her eyes, so convincing his anger almost faded.

Again. That woman had a hold on him. Praying for strength, he battled down the urge to lash out with words, words she probably deserved. But he wouldn’t hurt her. He wasn’t that kind of man.

“Caring for you was a mistake I intend to correct. We’re done.” He ground his teeth together, his jaw muscles jumped, his tendons corded tight in his neck. “Absolutely, positively done.”

“Liam, I—” She watched him pivot on his heels, turning his back to her. Nothing hurt worse than watching him pound away. He didn’t pause, he didn’t look back. She didn’t have to be a genius to know he’d meant what he said. She’d lost him.

For good.

“Brooke, I’m so sorry.” Colbie’s hand found hers and squeezed tight. “That was a terrible way for him to find out. I don’t like that anchor lady.”

All she could see was the blur of Liam merging with the crowd at the courthouse entrance. She blinked, realized she had tears in her eyes and willed them away. No crying allowed. She was stronger than that.

“Maybe you could talk to him.” Brandi sidled up to hug Brooke. “He’s a nice guy. I think he’ll understand.”

“No, he won’t.” He disappeared through the doors, gone from her sight. All she wanted was for him to come back. To turn around and realize there was no way the Brooke he’d fallen for could have hurt him or deceived him.

Please,
she prayed. A tiny hope lived inside her and refused to budge. She clung to it with both hands, willing it to live. Wanting there to be some way to right this. But no tall, dark-haired man emerged through the throng and that small hope died. She bit down a sob and blinked harder against the rising tears she refused to let fall.

“We love you, Brooke.” Bree sidled up to wrap her in another hug. Luke’s hand landed on her shoulder. Hunter grunted in a reassuring, brotherly way. Lil gripped Brooke’s hand, tears running down her face.

“I won’t give up praying, dear.” Lil held on so tight. “I could talk to Madge. There’s got to be a way to fix this.”

“Please don’t.” She leaned in to brush a kiss to Lil’s appled cheek. “This is my fault. All mine. Promise me you won’t bother him with this. He’s hurt enough.”

“So are you.” Lil reached up to brush a tear away.

One had escaped. But no more. Brooke straightened her shoulders, steeled her resolve and took a deep, cleansing breath.
Lord, give me strength,
she prayed. Whatever it took, she had to put her broken heart aside, forget her shattered dreams and what might have been and concentrate on her sister. This was going to be another tough day for Bree.

That’s why she was here. To support her sister. To be with her family.

She had to accept the fact that Liam was never meant to be hers.

* * *

It had been torture sitting in that courtroom. His whole being had collapsed in on itself like a black hole forming. Worse, he had a perfect view of Brooke up front, nestled between her sisters. Wherever he looked, there she was. At the corner of his eye. At the center of his view. The sheen of her glossy hair kept entering his field of vision as he watched Bree take the stand. The moment court adjourned for the day he hit the ground running, leaving a surprised Roger in his wake. No way did he want to risk bumping into Brooke, not when he was raw. Not when he felt like this.

He made a quick stop at the grocery store before swinging by to pick up Oscar. The moment the dog spotted him, he raced across the fenced playground in the Dillards’ sunny backyard, barking in welcome. Chocolate eyes sparkled, doggy ears perked up—the animal hardly touched the ground. “Hello, hello, hello,” he seemed to say as he bounced along, leaping happily.

“It’s good to see you, too, buddy.” He rubbed the Lab’s head. At least he’d done something right.

The drive home was quick, with Oscar sniffing out the window. But not even the dog’s presence could distract him from thinking of Brooke. He kept mulling over his mistakes, where he’d gone wrong and why he’d trusted her. The signs had been there. She’d been closed off; she’d been reluctant to open up. It was obvious now that she’d had secrets to hide.

A drug addict and trafficker. He just hadn’t seen that in her. He pulled into his driveway, shaking his head. He’d been caught up in her girl-next-door look and her wholesome act. Even now it was hard to believe.

Then again, he’d done the same thing with Sidney.

He stopped the truck in the driveway, cut the engine and sat in the shade. Without the bustle of court and the crowd around him and his errands done, he had a moment to just sit. The hurt he’d been fighting sank into him deeply. The dreams he’d had of her, dreams he’d wanted with her, blew away like dust spiraling in a heartless wind. All that was left was the void in his heart, deep and dark and agonizing.

He’d loved her. He hadn’t realized how much until it was gone. Until he could measure the pain of her loss. His jaw clenched, his teeth ached from the pressure and he leaned farther back in his seat. A temperate wind breezed through the open window fanning his face, fragrant with the neighbor’s lilacs and roses. The gray cat leaped into sight and perched on a fence post, watching them through slitted eyes.

How could I have done this again, Lord?
He shook his head, unlatched his seat belt and grabbed his keys. He had no one to blame but himself. He was a reporter. If he’d been paying attention, did some research, maybe wondered why Tasha Brown had wanted to interview Brooke in the first place, he may have discovered her past sooner. Before she decimated his heart.

A weight settled on his shoulder. Oscar’s chin. The Lab looked up at him with sympathetic eyes. Doggy brows arched with concern as if to say, “Are you all right?”

“No, but thanks, buddy.” He leaned the side of his head against Oscar’s, letting the moment be. The dog’s comfort felt like a blessing. “You’re all right, Oscar. Thanks for being my best friend.”

A happy lick swiped across his chin. Liam chuckled. Funny guy. He straightened up, scrubbed the dog’s ears. “Hey, you didn’t even try to get into the grocery sacks.”

Oscar sniffed the air, glanced at the bags on the front passenger seat and gave a toothy grin. All Oscar needed was to settle down and settle in. All he’d needed was a little love.

The quiet rumble of an engine pulled his attention. He glanced in his rearview and spotted Pop’s sedan driving in behind him. Through the sun-glinted glass, he caught his grandfather’s smile. Their usual Friday night get-together was the best part of his week and he was grateful for it. Keeping busy was the key to not thinking about Brooke. To not feeling the wasteland his heart had become.

“Let’s go say hi to Pop. What do you think?” he asked, and Oscar answered with a happy pant. So he opened the door, hopped to the ground and waited for his dog to leap down.

“Hey, boy.” Pop closed his car door, holding a paper sack. Looked like he’d stopped by the grocery store’s bakery section on the way. “Liam, this is quite a dog you have here. What a good boy.”

Hard to believe the Lab sat perfectly in front of Pop, waiting to be petted. And knowing Oscar, probably hoping for a bite of whatever treat was in that bag. “Yes, he’s something, all right.”

Oscar’s tail whacked the concrete in happy agreement as he accepted a scrub on the top of his head from Pop and then took off, eagerly leading the way to the backyard gate, checking over his shoulder to make sure the humans were following him appropriately.

The cat on the fence watched the proceedings with mild interest.

“I’ve heard a rumor.” Pop ambled up with a grin on his face.

“Oh, yeah?” He leaned across the truck seat to grab the two grocery bags. Paper crinkled as he straightened, shut the door and studied his grandfather. “What kind of rumor?”

“One about you.” Pop’s silver hair made him look distinguished and he stood straight and tall, just like always. “I heard from a few sources that you’ve been seen out and about with a pretty young lady.”

So much for not thinking about Brooke. “Don’t get your hopes up. She was just Oscar’s trainer.”

“I don’t know. According to one source, you seemed like a great deal more.”

“Maybe that was true once, but not now.” He gathered up his defenses. He couldn’t talk about this. He couldn’t do it, no way. He opened the gate, Oscar leaped into his yard and the cat raised one paw and began washing his face.

“Oh. I had hopes for you, son.” Pop frowned, disappointed, and closed the gate. “When I ran into Madge at Bible study, she told me all about you and one of the McKaslin girls.”

“Gram is anxious to marry me off. She’s reading way too much into things.” Casual, that was the way to be. Maybe he could convince himself he wasn’t in agony. That he didn’t want to go back in time to this morning, when he was still with Brooke. When she was flawless in the morning sunshine, her laughter wrapping around his soul like a gift. When love filled him with possibilities and hopes.

Yes, he wanted that more than anything. But it could not be.

“Brooke’s done helping Oscar, so that’s the end of it.” He shrugged, no big deal, even as he realized what he was doing. Covering up something that hurt him, so he wouldn’t be as vulnerable and to protect himself. Talking about it would only hurt more.

No, he stopped the thought before it could start. That wasn’t the same thing Brooke had done. She’d served time. She was not the sweet and honest woman he’d mistaken her for. He’d be smart not to start making excuses for her.

“Son, I’ve been praying for your heart to heal. You deserve to be happy again.” Pop set his bakery bag on the patio table.

“Don’t worry about me.” He unlocked the kitchen door. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s debatable.” Understanding layered Pop’s baritone. “I saw how badly Sidney hurt you. Seems to me you’re hurting like that again.”

“No, this time it’s worse.” The truth tumbled out before he could stop it. He set the bags on the kitchen table and grabbed the matches from the junk drawer and a half-used bag of briquettes from the closet.

“I’m sorry to hear that, son.” Pop tugged the barbecue away from the side of the house. “I’ve been praying for you. I want you to know the wonder and sanctuary of love.”

“I’m disillusioned. More than disillusioned.” Love leads to heartbreak. He’d known that all along. He waited for Pop to remove the steel lid of the grill before upending the bag. Chunks of charcoal tumbled. Why was he remembering the first evening Brooke had come over, after Oscar had disheveled the house? He’d been intending to barbecue that night, too.