Summer Lovin': A Wounded Hearts Novella (7 page)

R
ebecca finished checking her newsfeeds
, moved on to texting her mom that she was okay, and no she didn’t need to cancel her trip, and still, Mitch hadn’t returned from the store. What was he doing, buying the place out? She wanted to get home and have a long, hot shower in the worst way.

Lowering the visor, she inspected the bruising on her face, relieved that most of the swelling had gone down and she didn’t resemble the train wreck her body felt like it had been through. Funny how a few chance events can change the course of one’s life. If anyone had told her a few days ago that she would be sitting in her ex-husband’s vehicle anxiously waiting for his return, she’d have asked them if they’d taken a recent trip into la-la land.

Where is he?

She opened the door and slid out of the cab. What is it with guys and big trucks? She yanked her skirt down where it had ridden up, grimacing at the picture she must make. Flyaway hair, a beat-up face, and last night’s party clothes—now dirty and wrinkled—not exactly haute couture.

Shrugging away her vanity, Rebecca marched toward the store, but halted when she heard pounding feet coming from the far side of the building. A tow-headed boy appeared, running like the hounds of hell were after him, but his attention was on something behind him and he didn’t see the low parking barricade he was about to run into.

“Look out,” Becky called.

He glanced back, startled, but it was too late. His foot caught the meridian and he went flying over the top, landing in a heap on the other side.

Rebecca gasped, picked up her long skirts, and ran.

Another boy appeared and zipped across the lot to the fallen kid. When she arrived and crouched to help the crying child, Tommy’s familiar fear-filled brown eyes greeted her. His gaze widened on her bruised face, then he eyed the little guy’s rapidly swelling ankle and tears formed.

“Please, Miss, that’s my brother. You gotta help him,” Tommy begged, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Don’t cry, Jasper. It’s gonna be okay, just please don’t cry.”

Rebecca smiled reassuringly, though she could see that it was most likely a break. Poor guy. Her heart squeezed in sympathy. “I’m afraid he might have a broken leg. Let me see your hands, buddy. Did they get hurt too?” She lifted the hand he was cradling in his lap and cringed. The skin was scraped, with little pebbles poking out of the lacerations. It looked very painful.

Tommy blanched and then the tears did fall. “I’m sorry, Jasper. I should’ve left you at home.”

Jasper used the least damaged hand to pat his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Tommy. I shoulda been looking where I was runnin’. I messed up, didn’t I?
He’s
gonna be mad.”

An instant vision of the previous night’s assault pebbled Becky’s skin with revulsion. If these kids had to put up with even an ounce of what she had…

“Who is he talking about?” She leaned forward and grasped Tommy’s knee. “I want to help you and your brother, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?” Shivers racked his narrow frame and Becky ached to take them both in her arms, but she respected their reserve. How could anyone treat little children the way she suspected these two had been handled? It made her blood boil to think of it.

Tommy eyed her for a long moment then seemed to come to a decision, his shoulders bowing from untold months of stress. “He’s our uncle. Momma… she ain’t alive no more, and the child welfare people made us come live here with
him
.”

He looked up and hatred shone from eyes that held a wealth of horrible experiences. It broke her heart.

“Oh, honey.” She gave in and tugged him close, even though it was like holding a steel pole. “Don’t you worry, you aren’t ever going to have to stay there again. I promise.” She gave Jasper a watery smile and set Tommy back. “Okay, let’s get your brother some help, shall we?”

Just then Jack and Mitch came tumbling out the back door and Tommy scrambled to his feet, his eyes desperate.

“Tommy, don’t leave me,” Jasper cried, clearly scared.

Tommy mouth turned down. “As if I would,” he said, squaring his shoulders and stepping in front of his brother. “You better leave us alone,” he shouted at the men.

Rebecca saw when Mitch caught sight of her sitting on the ground. He shook his head, ignored the warning, and strode to her side, dropping down on his haunches. “You couldn’t just wait in the truck, huh?” he teased, and ran a light finger down her cheek.

Becky’s skin zinged, the sparks zapping between them.

Mitch’s gaze zeroed in on her lips and darkened. “You and me—later. I’m tired of waiting. It’s time we settled our past so we can move forward with our lives.” He leaned in and gave her a quick, hard kiss, their breath co-mingling and tasting of the coffee he’d stopped and bought for her.

Rebecca sighed and gave herself up to the moment, though in the back of her mind his words nipped and stung, warning her that it was going to hurt when he left. How did this happen? When did Mitch Taylor become necessary to her happiness?

God
. She was in love with him.

Her mouth slackened. Mitch sat back and looked at her quizzically for a moment, then he turned away to help young Jasper, and she tried to pay attention, she really did. But, all the time he was asking Tommy what happened, and running gentle fingers over the injury, and she was smiling and murmuring reassurance, her heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces.

W
hen had
his life become so difficult? Mitch kept sneaking glances at Becky while trying to determine the kid’s injuries and not get stabbed in the back by the older boy. And what the hell was Jack doing? He stood a few feet away with a cell phone plastered to his ear and brows drawn in a forbidding line. No wonder the kid had freaked out. Jack didn’t have the friendliest looking mug at the best of times, never mind when he figured someone was messing with his precious town.

The boy cried out when he touched a particularly tender area and his cornflower blue eyes filled with tears. Becky tut-tutted and sent Mitch a reproachful look before sliding her hand over the kid’s.

“Shh, he didn’t mean to, honey. The sheriff is probably calling for help right now. We’ll get you fixed up and on your feet again in no time.”

Tommy shook his head. “He cain’t go to no doctor. We’s got no money.” He made rabbit ears of his pockets to prove his point.

Mitch smiled to ease the boy’s mind. “Don’t worry about the bill. The sheriff will handle it,” he said, noticing Jack had moved closer to the group.

Jack let out a loud harrumph, and ignored him to look at Rebecca, his face softening with empathy. “How are you doing? Sorry we didn’t make it up to the hospital, Laurel wasn’t feeling too good this morning. She was some upset when she heard about what happened.” He slid a glance at the kids. “You find out anything?”

She gave a slight nod. “I’ll explain later. Is help on the way? He’s being so brave.” The boy’s attention wavered between them.

Jack shifted and Tommy cringed, backing up a step and damn near landing on his brother. Mitch reached out and steadied him before letting go. He shot Jack a warning glance. These kids were gun-shy. For some reason they had decided to trust Becky, and by default himself, but that’s as far as they were willing to go. Going by last night’s little misadventure, he couldn’t blame them. It pissed him off all over again thinking about those assholes hurting either child.

Jack looked hurt, concern turning his face into a grim mask. He loved his daughter so much; everyone knew it, so Mitch had no doubt that it was painful the children were leery with him. It was kind of odd that they were okay around him, he’d never had anything to do with kids. Not many around his line of work. Which led him back to Rebecca. Her life revolved around children; secretary at the elementary school, her friends and their kids. He had no place in that life.

She deserved someone who could give her the moon, all he could offer was a slice of cheese. The best thing he could do was sign the divorce papers and step back, let her go. Even if it Broke. His. Goddamn. Heart.

And it would. Mitch had no doubt of that now. He’d managed to stuff his feelings down deep inside, but the truth was, from the moment he’d laid eyes on her all those years ago, he’d known. She was The One.

He’d never really moved on since. There’d been a few women—he was a normal, healthy male—but none that connected on the same wavelength as Rebecca. She was his missing piece.

And because of that he wanted what was best for her, which didn’t include a dumb tradesman like himself.

“Here comes the ambulance now,” Jack said, and waved them over when they turned into the lot.

“I’m scared,” Jasper whispered, his face shades lighter than the pavement he was laying on.

Tommy knelt on the ground and gave his brother a fierce hug. “It’s going to be okay, Jas. Just think, we get to ride in an ambulance.”

Mitch swallowed around the lump in his throat. Tommy wasn’t much older than his kid brother, but had taken on the role of provider just the same. Mitch planned on making it his business that useless piece of skin they had the misfortune to call an uncle never came near any of them again. He glanced at Jack and caught the exact same emotion shining out of his eyes. Their gazes met in a rare moment of solidarity and the lump grew to mammoth proportions.

“Can I ride with you guys?” Rebecca asked the boys. “I love ambulances. Maybe they’ll even flash their lights for us.”

Mitch gave her an incredulous look, though he shouldn’t be surprised. Of course she’d set aside her own comfort if it meant helping kids. His heart pinched. He loved her so damn much it hurt.

He cleared his throat and stood out of the way as the EMTs took over. Jasper kept a death grip on Becky’s hand the entire time they splinted his leg then loaded him onto a stretcher and wheeled it to the back of the vehicle, Tommy dogging their heels.

She glanced back, and something like regret chased shadows across her face, then they were gone with a squeal of tires and the requested blare of sirens.

The parking lot seemed dull and dismal after she left. The thought of losing the right to call her his wife ripped a hole in his gut.

“You comin’?” Jack asked.

Mitch shrugged off the black mood and nodded. “Where we headed?”

“That was Sid, my deputy. He has a lead on the location of our perp. Thought I’d take a drive and check it out.”

Anticipation zipped through Mitch’s veins. Damn right he wanted to catch up to the creeps. “I’m in, let’s go.” He started toward the front of the store where his truck was parked.

“Hey, Mitch,” Jack called.

Mitch turned, impatient to get a move on and maybe release some of his inner tension on a face or two.

“Look, about before,” Jack said. “You know, with April.” He glanced down, then looked Mitch square in the eye. “It’s been a long time, man. Let’s put it behind us, agreed?”

Mitch hesitated. If he kept his mouth shut, the whole episode could be put to rest. Forgiven if not forgotten. It wasn’t enough though. He needed to clean the slate. Until April pulled her little stunt, the men had been as close as those two brothers they’d just placed in the ambulance. It was long past due that they cleared the air between them.

“April Montgomery was a beautiful woman,” he started, then hurried on when Jack stiffened. “But, she was
your
woman, Jack. I know you figured we had something going on, and hell, I wouldn’t put it past her to foster that impression, but I swear to you we didn’t.”

He kicked a rock and listened to it ping off the garbage dumpster. “Listen, I know you loved her and all, but there was something seriously wrong with her. She thrived on making you jealous. You have to see that, right?”

Jack stood as though frozen in time, and maybe he was. April had single-handedly destroyed not only their friendship, but also two promising careers. Not to mention abandoning a child. She would never rate for any mother of the year awards, that’s for damn sure.

“So all this time, while I’ve been wondering if Tina was mine,” Jack growled, but before he could finish what he was going to say they heard a gasping cry from behind.

Tina stood near the open back door, hands over her mouth and tears streaming down her white face.

“Tina,” Jack croaked.

She turned and blindly stumbled toward the door.

“Honey, wait.”

But, it was too late. She was gone.

P
ete woke
up to the strident ringing of the telephone. His face was plastered to the floor and it felt like a ten-piece band was rehearsing in his skull.
Ugh
. His mouth tasted like somethin’ crawled up and died in there. It took him two tries to lift his head and focus bleary eyes on Davey passed out at the kitchen table, a half-full glass of rotgut still in his hand.

Sunlight seeped through the gaps around the front door and fought with the dirty windowpanes to stream into the room and push away the gloom. He’d told that fricken kid to keep them curtains closed, dammit. A surge of bile rose and he forced himself to his feet, barely managing to bounce off the hall walls and make it to the can in time. Grimacing, he bent under the tap and rinsed with lukewarm water, then sluiced it over his head, hoping for some clarity. The red-rimmed gaze that met him in the veined mirror wasn’t encouraging.

It was those kids’ fucking fault. If they hadn’t stressed him out… He ignored the fact that he’d been drinking like this long before they came on the scene. What the hell did he know about kids? Why his sister named him their guardian, he’d never know. The only good thing to come out of this mess was the money. April had done good for herself—a fuck of a lot better than she had in this shithole. If not for the accident, she’d promised to take care of him, maybe even bring him out there to L.A. to live with her and that high-falutin’ dentist husband of hers. Now that dream was gone.

But not the money.

As the only living relative, he’d been appointed trustee of the kids’ inheritance. It wasn’t his fault it took a lot to live these days. Speaking of which… where the hell were they? Usually the youngest one was driving him up the bend by now with the noise he made. He’d had to lay down the law a couple of times already. Pete rubbed his bristly jaw and thought about the welts he’d caused on the kid’s back. Remorse rode the waves of discomfort rolling in his gut. He hadn’t meant to, he weren’t no molester. It’s just the noise about drove him nuts. The kid would learn. He’d better. They were a team now; they had to figure out how to get along.

He staggered back down the hall, his legs still unsteady, and gave Davey a shove, frowning when the hooch sloshed over the rim of the glass. He snagged it as the other man moaned and groaned the stupor away.

“What the hell, man?” Davey whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Get up. You gotta help me find those brats.”

Davey wiped the drool off his face. “Fuck, man, they’re probably out in the yard. What’s the big deal?”

Pete sucked back the booze, closing his eyes to relish the shiver that worked its way down his spine. “The deal is that I said it’s time to git up.” He kicked the leg of the chair. “Now move.”

Davey shot him a death wish glare laced with uncertainty—guy was smarter than he looked—and lurched to his feet. “Whatever, man.”

Satisfied, Pete threw open the door and growled as the light pierced his eyeballs. Shit, that hurt.

When he thought he could move without his head exploding, he pitched down the stairs and into the dirt yard. Nothing stirred. What the hell? He waved Davey around the other side and then went left himself, heading for the kid’s homemade sandpit. Nothing but a damn Tonka toy. He picked it up and hurled it into the trees just as Davey showed up shaking his head.

He was gonna kill those little fucks.