Montana Homecoming (9 page)

“Good night. That was totally fun.” Brandi swooped in to hug her tight in Lil’s shadowed front yard. “I’m not into volleyball, but the movie was great. If you need someone to go with you next time, say the word.”

“Me, too.” Bree squeezed in, hugging them both.

“Me, three. Group hug.” Colbie shouldered her way in. A real sister moment. This was what she’d been missing living two states away. The realization roped her in, making it hard to let go when the twins bobbed backward. Colbie kept a tight hold on her, though, as if she didn’t plan on letting go. Bless her.

“Tell Lil good-night for us.” Bree excavated her keys from her purse. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“You two are no hardship.” Colbie waved with her free hand. “Drive safe and all that.”

“Will do.” Bree bopped into the truck and started the engine. The window whizzed down. “See you tomorrow.”

“Count on it.” Brooke adored her sisters. She alone knew how hard it was to sit in a courtroom waiting for justice. Her stomach clenched up tight, a little worried for Bree.

“Bye!” The little truck motored away, taillights glowing in the darkness.

“I can’t believe how well she’s doing.” Colbie watched them go. “I would be a basket case if I had to sit in court and look at the men who shot me, but she’s a rock.”

“She’s awesome.” Brooke ambled alongside her sister up the dim pathway. Grasses rustled in the breeze and lilacs sent fragrance wafting their way. “I wish I had her strength.”

“Are you kidding? That’s the same thing she told me about you before the trial started.” Colbie tripped along, dark hair bobbing with her gait. “I can’t believe the way you’ve put your life together from scratch. You had to start all over again. With nothing. Not one thing.”

“My life isn’t as together as you think, not even close.” Sweet of her sister to try to buoy her up like that, but honestly. “What little I own is in a storage unit in south Seattle. My job included quarters at the halfway house. When I was let go, I lost my room.”

“Oh, sorry, I was wrong. You are completely pathetic.” Gentle love shimmered in her words as she slung an arm over Brooke’s shoulders, belying her words and saying so much more. “Do you know what this is?”

“I’m afraid to guess.”

“Divine intervention, sister mine. A big neon sign shining from heaven flashing, ‘Move to Montana, move to Montana.’”

“Colbie, I’m starting to sense a recurring theme.” Brooke laughed, climbed the stairs and breathed in the lovely fragrances of the night, of home.

“A girl has to try. You are loved here, Brooke. You know that, right?”

“It’s occurring to me. Back at ya.” All those years when she’d been young and had not known Colbie or the twins haunted her now—nothing but wasted time. What if Lil hadn’t begun corresponding with her when she was in jail? Lil’s generosity had changed her life. Gratitude welled up, too great for any words to describe. For the first time in a long while she felt a part of something, a part of her family.

“Girls, there you are.” Lil hit Pause on the remote and the crime scene drama froze on the screen.

“Howdy.” Luke, seated on the couch, lurched to his feet. At six-three he dominated the small living room. “Looks like it’s time for me to skedaddle. I’ve got longer than an hour’s drive.”

“Sure you won’t stay the night?” Lil asked.

“Thanks, but Hunter would have my hide. Wake-up is at four on the farm. He wouldn’t be pleased with me if I wasn’t there to help with the chores. Again.” He pulled keys from his pocket. “See you around, you two. Keep out of trouble.”

“Who, us?” Colbie’s hand flew to her chest, sounding innocent. “You know me. I’m never trouble.”

“Of course you’re not.” Luke winked, kissed Lil on the cheek and ambled over. “Brooke, you’re smiling.”

“What? I’ve been known to smile from time to time.”

“Sure, but you look happy. It’s good to see.” He grabbed his Stetson from the closet shelf and ambled by. “You keep on being happy, okay?”

“I’ll try. What about you?”

“I run a dairy with Hunter. How happy can I be?” he quipped, winking, hiding the affection he felt for their taciturn brother. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” She closed the door after him, already missing him.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Lil’s question drew her back.

“Moderately.” As if she wanted to open that can of worms. She knew exactly where Lil was heading. Time to change the subject. “Did you know your daughter is a terrible volleyball player?”

“I’ve heard rumors but I haven’t wanted to believe it,” Lil quipped. “At least you got Colbie out tonight. Colbie, see how I’m just fine? Luke and I had a great time.”

“Good. I don’t trust just anyone to stay with you.” Colbie dropped into the overstuffed chair next to her mom and gestured toward the TV screen. “No, don’t rewind it. Just catch me up. How is their romance going? I can’t wait until she figures out that he loves her.”

“Then keep watching.” Lil pressed the remote, the actors on the screen burst into motion and the accord between mother and daughter emanated with deep and comfortable affection. “Brooke, are you going to join us? This is the best part. They’re about to catch the killer.”

“So I see.” She set down her things and moseyed closer but it wasn’t the show that held her attention. It was Colbie as she searched her mother’s face and smoothed a hair out of place, worry frowning her forehead. Despite appearances it hadn’t been easy for Colbie to leave her mom tonight. Even with Luke keeping an eye on her.

The action on the TV intensified, the cops made an arrest and justice was ensured.

“Look right there.” Lil pointed to the screen. “That poignant look between them.”

“Oh, he knows.” Colbie sighed, pleased. In the lamplight, dark circles bruised her skin, revealing her exhaustion. “Ooh, next week’s episode is going to be good.”

“You know it.” Lil leaned back into her chair as the evening news came on. The lead story? The Backdoor Burglars trial. Colbie reached forward and flicked it off.

“I’d rather end the day on a good note,” she explained with a shrug. “Time to get you ready for bed, Mom. We have another big day ahead.”

“I’ll do it.” Brooke seized the grips of Lil’s wheelchair. “Don’t even think about arguing. I love Lil. I want to spend time with her. I’m just selfish that way.”

“Dear, I feel the same way about you.” Pleased, Lil bent forward to release the brake.

Colbie knelt to do it. “I’m not letting you get away that easily. Brooke is our guest. She should be lounging on the couch.”

“Is she always that bossy?” Brooke winked, pulling the wheelchair back with her.

“She thinks she’s in charge. Poor, misguided Colbie.” Lil’s eyes twinkled. “Honey, I recorded a few sitcoms you missed earlier. Why don’t you put your feet up and watch them?”

“Yeah, Colbie. If you sit and stay, I’ll give you a cookie.” She couldn’t resist teasing. “It works for Oscar.”

“It depends. What kind of cookie?” Colbie laughed, but the appreciation in her gaze said something more.

Brooke hoped hers said something, too, as she turned Lil around. She had no idea how Colbie managed everything on her own—her mother’s care, supporting them both, making sure Lil had everything she needed. What time did that leave Colbie for herself? Brooke suspected tonight’s outing was a rare occurrence.

It was for her, too. She’d had fun. And Liam? He clung to the back of her mind, refusing to budge.

Chapter Nine

“N
o, I’ll park the car.” Brooke stole the Toyota’s keys from Colbie faster than a pickpocket. Success. She ignored her sister’s disapproving look, kissed Lil on the cheek and hooked her purse higher on her shoulder. “Colbie, you go in and get settled first for a change. I’ll go in search of a parking spot.”

“It’s crowded this morning,” Lil trilled, reaching out to take Bree by the hand. “How are you doing, dear? Are you ready for this?”

“They may not get to the testimony about Juanita’s death today. We’ll see.” Bree gulped, chin up, all composure. Good to see her so strong, but tough to know how she had to feel deep inside. Max pulled her into his sheltering arms and she managed a determined smile. “All that matters is I’m not alone. With you guys here, I can do anything.”

“I’m right by your side, gorgeous.” Max, a protective and strong man, brushed a kiss on Bree’s forehead.

Bree deserved no less.

See, there are good and honest men out there,
Brooke told herself as she hopped behind the wheel. Men who didn’t let a woman down; men who didn’t use them for their own gain. Her brothers were that way, two men sworn to walk the right path in life. Why wasn’t it easier to believe there were more guys like that out there?

It was totally her perspective. She buckled up, put the SUV in gear and waited for a break in traffic. Or maybe it was her experience that made her quick to judge and leap to the wrong conclusions.

Don’t think about Liam,
she told herself as she pulled away from the curb in front of the courthouse and maneuvered into the street.
Do not think about the man who played killer volleyball, who made you feel welcome in a group of strangers and who obviously was respected and liked by a gym full of teenagers.
She couldn’t help but notice how many kids talked to him, high-fived him and looked up to him.

Don’t do it, Brooke.
She kept her gaze firmly on the road ahead of her, where her thoughts ought to be. She signaled, squinted against the sun, noticed the few handicapped spaces in the lot were filled and kept going. Her phone rang, buried in the depths of her purse. She couldn’t dig for it so she kept going, wondering if it was Liam. They hadn’t agreed on a time for Oscar’s training today.

Liam. She grimaced, frustrated with herself. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that man? She had defenses to keep fortified and she couldn’t do that if she thought too hard about how he’d opened up to her last night.

She spotted a space along the curb and swung into it awkwardly. She relied on the bus in Seattle, so her parallel parking skills were just a tad rusty. First she jimmied back and then forward, spun the wheel all the way to the left and back to the right. Wheels bumped the curb. Oops, a little too far. She jimmied a little more and leaned across the front seat to open the passenger door. Appropriately close to the curb.

Whew. Her parking skills could only get better from here and at least this was one less thing Colbie had to do. She pulled the parking brake, grabbed her purse and dug by feel. Lip gloss, hairbrush, phone. She plucked it out, trying to pretend she wasn’t anxious to see who was listed on her screen.

Not Liam because the number had an Oregon area code. Could it be about a job? Anticipation shook through her as she dialed her voice mail. This had to be good news, right? Or why else would they bother to call?

“Miss McKaslin, I’m Ellen Chambers. I would like to schedule an interview in the next few weeks.” A pleasant, no-nonsense voice paused and paper shuffled. “I’m quite pleased with your experience. You are just the person we are looking for in our program. I hope I hear from you.”

Yes! She saved the message, raised her arms in victory and laughed out loud. Things were looking up. Maybe she wouldn’t be unemployed for much longer. Woo-hoo. She dropped the phone in her purse, unhooked the seat belt and a knock on the window scared her to death.

“Dad.” The word squeaked out of her tight throat. Joy drained from her in an instant. Air puffed out of her lungs, leaving her shocked as she stared at the ragged, unkempt man on the other side of the glass.

“Brookie.” The withered person was a pale imitation of the man she remembered. He hauled open the SUV’s door. “Thought you were Colbie until I got up close. Why, girl, I haven’t seen you since your trial.”

“I remember.” She could still hear the last thing he’d said to her in the courtroom after her conviction.
Guess this is goodbye. It wouldn’t look good for me to be caught hanging around with a felon, even if it is my daughter
.

“What are you doing here?” She slipped from the seat. Her feet hit the pavement so hard, the impact ricocheted up her legs and her teeth clacked together. “I thought Hunter and Luke told you to stay away from the trial.”

“Sure, sure, I know. I was just passing by. I’m concerned about my girl in there.” His bushy brows frowned. His hair had gone gray and his face was hollow. “Been following it on the news. It just isn’t right. I ought to be with family. That’s why I came back here after I was released.”

“Your being here upsets Bree. It hurts Lil.” She couldn’t muster up anger at her father, at the sad old man he’d become. But that didn’t mean she would lower her guards against him. “You need to go.”

“I thought you would understand out of everyone, Brooke.” Mick McKaslin shut the door for her and trailed her around the back of the vehicle. “You know how hard it is to get on your feet after doing time. No one wants to hire an ex-con.”

“Are you in a program, Dad?” She stepped onto the sidewalk, heavy inside. It hurt to remember the vibrant, charming father he’d been when she was little, when her family had been whole. He opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him. “Don’t even think about lying to me. You smell like whiskey.”

“You lost him, too. I shouldn’t have to tell you what that does to a man to bury his son.” He swiped his face with his hand, a little dramatic. Probably working up to ask her for money.

“Don’t bring up Joe’s death.” She could barely stand to think about the younger brother she’d lost. No one in the family could endure mentioning it. It hurt too much. “Don’t you blame this on him.”

“I didn’t even get to go to the funeral. I was locked up.” He gulped in air, thin, worn, his handed-down clothes a few sizes too large and badly wrinkled. Probably he’d slept in them. “You know how it was. You were also behind bars when it happened. When he died.”

Why did he have to keep mentioning it? It was too much. Not even the steel walls around her heart could withstand the pressure. Memories rushed in like water through a crack in a levee, rushing forward, bringing more with it. Time reeled backward and she was in the prison courtyard with the summer sun burning on her back and splashing across Lil’s flowery script, feeling the rock of grief hurl into her. She hadn’t attended the funeral. “Stop it, Dad. I don’t want to remember.”

“What? You’re too good to hurt? Think you’re better than your old man?” Mick McKaslin’s face twisted, quick to anger. Every life’s blow had driven him lower in life, when he’d been raised better than this. She didn’t know why he’d made the choices he had, but he didn’t look like a man dedicated to changing. He scowled, his tone scolding. “I expected more from you. You’ve been locked up. Remember when that jury turned on you?”

“You need to go, Dad.” Her stomach tumbled. Sweat popped out on her forehead. Something in her chest began to collapse. Maybe it was her heart. She jammed her fist into her bag, desperate to find her phone before the memories hit. She tried to breathe but couldn’t find any oxygen nor could she stop the images from rising up. Once again she could feel the fluorescent lights beaming down on her as she stood beside her attorney. The verdict rang out in the silent courtroom.

Guilty. The rush of her denial, the shock racing through her system, the sound of her mother’s sobs battered her. When the truth had sunk in and she’d realized that they hadn’t believed her, her knees gave out and she collapsed into the chair at the defense table. Shattered. She shook her head but the memory clung to her.

“You need to go, Dad.” The words tore out of her. “You upset everyone and you do it on purpose. And no, don’t even think about asking for money.”

“I didn’t expect you to turn on me, too.” He might act sorrowful but that wasn’t the emotion glinting in his eyes. His jaw worked angrily. “You and me, we’re just alike, Brookie, two ex—”

A footfall sounded behind her, followed by a man’s booming voice. “Is there a problem here?”

“Liam.” She choked, terrified, relieved and embarrassed. What had he overheard, or had he been too far away?

“Looks like you’re having a little trouble. Hi, Mick.” Authority boomed in Liam’s voice. “You’ll be moving along, right?”

“Just saying howdy to my daughter. There’s no law against that.” Mick’s chin went up, defensive, but he edged back a few paces. “I moved here to be close to my kids. This not being able to see them ain’t right.”

“It’s what your kids want.” Liam stood by her side, loyal.

“Get into a program, Dad. Sober up. Nothing is going to change between all of us until you do.” Shame shadowed her as she spun on her heels and hit the sidewalk, not seeing where she was going, her gasps grating her throat like sobs. How much had Liam heard? Why had she let the past get the best of her? It was over and gone. She had to stop letting it have the power to hurt her so much.

“Brooke?” A deep-noted voice rumbled with concern. His footsteps tapped behind her on the sidewalk, closing in. Liam.

Again.

She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut, dreading what he might say. His shoes tapped hollowly against concrete, her skin tingling as he drew nearer. Her pulse skipped and her soul whispered in reaction. She opened her eyes to his reassuring presence.

“Are you all right?” His words threatened to soothe her. His tone vibrated richly, dipping deeply, comforting. If he’d heard her conversation with Dad, then he wouldn’t be looking at her that way. Like he cared. “I’ve heard from Gram how your dad can be. I also remember my Grandfather Knightly mentioning that he covered Mick’s arrest and trial years back.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” She’d never seen kinder eyes. They warmed like the sky at noon, bluer than dreams and full of honest caring. It would be so easy to tumble, to let down her guards and lean on him. Her chest twisted tight with an emotion she couldn’t name.

“I’ve seen worse.” Gentle humor tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I told Mick to move on or your brothers and I would help him. No one wants Bree or Lil upset, not today.”

“Court’s in session by now. You’re missing testimony.”

“Roger will fill me in.” He shrugged his dependable shoulders and laid one hand on the small of her back. He swallowed hard at the surprising zing of pure emotion. The comfortable distance between them vanished and he felt too close, but could he move away?

No. Brooke was hurting. Pain shone in her eyes and somehow arrowed into his heart. That was a problem. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge that pesky emotion. “I’m more concerned about you.”

“No, I’m okay.” She lifted her chin, strain telegraphing through her. He could feel her muscles bunched beneath his palm.

“You don’t look okay.”

“It was nice of you to intervene.” She bit her bottom lip, still trembling, unguarded. Giving him a glimpse of the real Brooke she worked so hard to protect.

“Least I could do for the woman who taught Oscar to sit.” He smiled, battling a wash of gentleness filling him.

“You could have taught him if you would have bought a dog book or watched a TV show on dog training.” Some of the tension eased beneath his hand. She tilted her head, gazing up at him, those shutters slipping back in place.

But she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been hurting or that he hadn’t seen.

“True.” He couldn’t argue with her or ignore the weakening around his heart.

Don’t go soft for the woman,
he tried to tell himself. He’d be smart to hold his ground and reinstate distance between them. Except it was hard to ignore the pain he’d seen in her.

“Don’t worry, Mick’s almost to the end of the block.”

He glanced down the street, watchful. He knew an addict when he spotted one. Drugs and alcohol took their cost from a person. He knew at least part of the story. A proposal to Lil that Mick had never made good on while he’d still been married—a terrible discovery for Lil who found out the truth too late. Another marriage to the twins’ mother, ending in divorce. Time served on a counterfeiting charge. Life on the streets.

Brooke deserved a better father than that. Liam’s hand remained on her shoulder. She wasn’t alone. He wanted her to know that. “He’s turned the corner. He’s gone.”

“For now.” Worry moved across her heart-shaped face, crinkling the corners of her eyes and tugging down her pretty mouth.

Not that he should be noticing how pretty her mouth was, soft and expressive. As lush as newly blooming roses in June.

“I’m worried about Bree seeing him. And Lil. She gets so upset.” Another piece to the puzzle of Brooke McKaslin. Even terribly upset, she was quick to care about others. Hard not to be touched by that.

“He didn’t look good.” He steered her forward. He guided her off the curve and pulled her to his side. She felt slight against him, just a fragile slip of a woman, all sweetness and heart. He swallowed against the feelings building in his chest, refusing to let them rise. “Is he homeless?” Liam asked.