by Sydney Logan
Chapter 13
“T hat’s pretty,” John said, sitting down in his favorite recliner.
Melody softly strummed her guitar on the sofa. “Is it? I can’t tell. I think I’m out of practice.”
“I like it. What’s it called?”
“I don’t know yet. It’s just a tune that got stuck in my head as I rocked Macy to sleep last night.”
“So, it’s a lullaby.”
“Maybe. If I can get this chord progression right.” She looked over her shoulder. “Where is everybody?”
“Brody’s changing the baby’s diaper,” John said with a laugh, “and your mother is telling him he’s doing it all wrong.”
Melody grinned. From the moment they arrived at her parents’ house, Macy’s feet hadn’t touched the floor. That wasn’t unusual. Her grandparents loved to spoil her, and Melody loved watching them do it.
She didn’t know how any of them were going to survive it if she went back to New York.
Returning to Manhattan had been weighing heavily on her mind. She had to go, at some point. She had clients that depended on her, a career she loved, and an apartment she adored. Her extended vacation was nearly over. Decisions needed to be made, and time was running out.
“You stopped playing,” John said.
“Sorry,” she said, placing the guitar in its case. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I know how.”
John considered that. “You must be thinking about the city. Your mom’s been thinking about that, too.”
“Just Mom?”
Her dad smiled softly. “No. Not just Mom. We’ve all sort of gotten used to having you around.”
“I couldn’t have done this without you guys. I’m glad I stayed.”
“So are we,” he said. “I don’t suppose . . .”
Melody swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I don’t know, Dad. I honestly don’t know what to do.”
“Your mother and I thought maybe . . . now that you and Brody are back together—”
“I know, but . . . I have people who depend on me. I have a job to do.”
John nodded but said nothing else.
“When were you gonna tell me?”
Melody jumped at the sound of Brody’s voice behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she found him and her mother, with Macy in her arms.
“You’re going back to New York?” Sharon asked, her voice trembling. “We were sure that—”
John rose to his feet.
“Sharon, let’s take the baby outside. Some fresh air will do her good.”
“Fresh air? Are you serious? We need to talk about this!”
“No, we don’t. Not right now,” he said quietly but firmly. “But they do.”
Sharon turned to Brody. “Talk some sense into her, would you?”
Brody said nothing as John led his wife out of the living room. It was deathly quiet until they heard the slamming of the kitchen screen door.
“When were you going to tell me, Mel?”
“Brody, you’ve always known that I was going back to the city.”
“Sure, I knew that was the original plan. But things have changed.”
Melody couldn’t believe her ears. “My job hasn’t changed. I have clients who depend on me. I have friends I love. My life is in Manhattan. It’s a lot to consider.”
Brody’s eyes flashed with hurt.
“And what about us? Did you consider us at all?”
Melody bowed her head. “That’s not fair.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
She sighed. “I’ve thought about staying in Meadow Creek. That’s all I’ve been thinking about. I just need some time to figure things out.”
“Figure what out? You just said your life’s in Manhattan. My life is here. People depend on me, too. They may not be multi-millionaire recording artists, but my patients are important, too.”
“Of course they are.”
“Then what is there to figure out?”
Melody didn’t know what to say. She knew they’d have to talk about it sooner or later. She was just hoping it’d be later—when she had a plan. When she knew exactly what to say.
Tonight was not that night.
“I love you, Melody.”
“I love you, too.”
“Do you?”
Her cheeks flamed. “You know I do!”
“No, I don’t, Mel. All I know is that you’re leaving me. AGAIN!”
She jumped to her feet. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so stubborn?”
“I’m so stupid,” he said bitterly. “I thought maybe—just maybe—you’d finally choose me. But that’s never going to happen. It’s always going to be what you want, isn’t it? You’re going to break my heart. You’re going to break your parents’ hearts. And Macy! What about Macy?”
“I am Macy’s mother, and she is going to be just fine!”
They stood there, stone-faced and seething, until Brody exhaled a noisy sigh.
“I can’t believe we’re here again,” he said, his voice cracking. “I honest to God can’t believe it.”
Melody’s eyes welled with tears. “Brody, don’t do this. Not now. We still have a few weeks.”
Brody sadly shook his head.
“That’s the difference between you and me,” he said roughly. “You’re talking about a few weeks. I’m talking about forever.”
Brody stormed out of the room, leaving Melody alone with a river of tears and a shattered heart.
* * *
It was after midnight when Melody headed back to the house. She’d been in no condition to drive, so her parents had insisted she spend the night. It’d been tempting, but Macy was restless and fussy, so Melody decided the best thing to do was to bring her home, hopeful that at least one of them could get a good night’s sleep.
After placing Macy in her crib, Melody called her parents to let them know she’d arrived safely. To their credit, they hadn’t asked any questions. Melody supposed they could tell by the tears on her face that the conversation with Brody hadn’t ended well. Still, she knew her luck would eventually run out. Her dad might not give her a lot of grief, but her mother would certainly have plenty to say.
But she’d worry about that tomorrow.
Plenty to worry about tomorrow.
Melody turned on the baby monitor and kissed Macy’s forehead before heading to her room. All she wanted to do was throw the covers over her head and cry for days. She opened the bedroom door, turned on the light, and screamed.
“Shh,” a voice said darkly. “You don’t want to wake the baby.”
Melody’s entire body shook when she saw Dillon Roberts sitting on her bed.
“How did you get in my house?”
He dangled the key in his hand.
“Lucky for me Trish never changed the locks. This is my house, by the way. Not yours.”
“Get out!”
Dillon chuckled as he crawled off the bed. “Now, where are your manners? Or did you lose them up there in New York City?”
Melanie’s eyes flashed with fire as she stealthily slipped her hand into her back pocket.
Stupid girl. Your phone’s in the diaper bag. And the bag’s in the nursery.
“We didn’t get the chance to finish our conversation,” Dillon said. “You know, when I visited before. We got interrupted.”
“I want you to get out of this house right now!”
“Happy to, just as soon as I get what I came for.”
Melody glanced over her shoulder.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s too late, City Girl. I found your mama’s gun and put it in my truck. It’s parked out back. That’s a nice hunting rifle. I can probably pawn it for a couple hundred bucks.”
Melody closed her eyes and took long, steadying breaths. She’d lived in the city for a decade and had never witnessed or been involved in anythi
ng even remotely violent. And here she was, in her little hometown, getting ready to get robbed.
Or worse.
Her entire body trembled as she leaned against the wall for support. Dillon was on his feet, too, but keeping his distance.
For now.
“You can’t have my daughter.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“You don’t even want her. You just want the life insurance money.”
Dillon blinked.
“I’m not stupid,” Melody said. “I know you don’t care about that little girl. You just want the money Trish left behind. Money that Macy will need for clothes and medicine and college. But, if Macy’s with me, I’ll give her everything she needs. She won’t need that life insurance money. You can have every last dime of it.”
He shuffled his feet. “Interesting proposition. How much we talkin’?”
Melody could’ve lied, but what did she care? She’d write him a check right now if it meant he’d get out of her house and never come back.
“It’s a little over $50,000.”
Dillon’s eyes lit up, and Melody wiped away her frightened tears.
Could it really be this easy?
Dillon started to walk closer. “So, let’s say you give me that money. And I give you the baby. And then, we’ll both have what we want, and everybody will be happy.”
Melody almost said that Macy wasn’t his baby to give, but she bit her tongue. He just offered her a way out. She’d be a fool not to take it.
“You can have it, Dillon. Take it all. Just let me keep the baby. And then promise me you’ll never come back.”
With a dark, cunning smile, Dillon offered his hand.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, City Girl.”
Melody ignored his hand. She couldn’t stand the thought of touching him.
“My bag’s in the living room.”
“Lead the way.”
“I’d prefer to walk behind you, if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t trust me?”
“Not a bit.”
Dillon smirked and headed down the hallway. When they reached the living room, Melody grabbed her bag and opened her check book.
“I’d prefer cash.”
“I’m sure you would,” she said sarcastically, filling out the amount and signing her name. “But I don’t usually carry that much money in my wallet.”
Melody handed him the check.
“How much do you carry?” he asked, sticking the check in his pocket.
She sighed and checked her wallet. “I have a hundred bucks.”
“I’ll take that, too.”
“Sure thing. Just as soon as you give me that key.”
Dillon offered her the gold key. She handed him the cash.
“Well, Miss Mitchell,” he said, tipping his imaginary hat. “It has certainly been a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Same. Now get out.”
Dillon made his way to the door.
“Remember what I said, Dillon. Don’t ever come back to this house, and don’t even dream about contacting my daughter. Ever. Or next time, I will call the police.”
Dillon stepped out onto the porch and slowly turned around.
“What if she asks about me?” he asked softly. “You know, when she’s older.”
Melody studied his face.
Does he actually have a heart under that conniving, cold exterior?
“I’ll tell her the truth. That her biological father ditched her when she was two hours old.”
Looking down at the ground, Dillon shuffled his feet.
“Could you maybe tell her something else?”
Melody sighed tiredly.
“I’ll tell her you’re dead. And you will be if you ever try to contact her. Are we clear?”
Dillon smirked and gave her a salute.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Melody slammed the door, locking it behind her. Then, she ran to the kitchen window and held her breath as she watched Dillon climb into his pickup. It wasn’t until she saw his taillights disappear that she finally allowed herself to breathe.
And then, with a shuddering sigh and a mournful wail, Melody crumbled to the kitchen floor.
Chapter 14
Brody signed off on the last of his charts and handed them to his nurse.
“That’s it for today,” Cathy said. “You had an appointment at four, but they just cancelled. Lobby’s empty.”
“That’s great. You can take off whenever you’re ready. I’m going to get caught up on some paperwork.”
Cathy nodded. “I’ll finish this last chart and then lock up.”
“Thanks,” he said, heading to his office. “Have a good night, Cathy.”
Naturally, his nurse had noticed that he’d spent more time at the office this week. For the past two months, he’d raced out the door after his last appointment of the day, eager to spend the evening with his girls. But this week was different, and Cathy was too kind to ask why.
Which was a good thing, because Brody couldn’t have explained it if he’d tried.
He’d allowed himself to hope, even though he’d learned a long time ago that hope was a dangerous thing. It gave you confidence. It made you stupid. It filled your head with visions and dreams of the future. But he’d ignored his gut and followed his heart. Brody had actually let himself believe that, this time, she’d choose him. That she’d choose them.
But no.
He wasn’t a complete idiot. Brody knew their time was running out and Melody would have to return to New York at some point. He just imagined that they’d discuss it. That they’d work out a plan. That she’d find a way to split her time between Meadow Creek and Manhattan. That they’d be a family.
Brody had jumped in—heart first.
And he let her break it.
Again.
Desperate to think about anything but her, Brody sat at his desk for hours, catching up on paperwork and reading from medical journals. It wasn’t until his stomach growled that he finally looked at his watch.
Time to go.
But he wasn’t ready to head home. Not yet. Instead, he drove through his little hometown, turning on his windshield wipers as a soft rain began to fall.
Do you think about me? Melody’s voice echoed in his mind.
“Every time it rains,” he whispered.
Without thinking, he drove toward the little blue house that had become his home away from home over the past few months. Brody had avoided it like the plague. In truth, he’d avoided this side of town all week long. His heart sank when he saw that her car was gone.
Why do you care? It’s not like you were gonna knock on the door and say hello.
With a quiet sigh, Brody pulled close to the curb and turned off the ignition. Through the rain-spattered windshield, he gazed at the little blue house, memories flooding his mind. After a while, he finally decided to stop torturing himself. He’d just started the car when someone knocked on his driver-side window, making him jump.
He quickly rolled down the window.
“John?”
“What are you doing out here, son?”
Stalking your daughter.
“I . . . honestly don’t know.”
John nodded. “Come sit on the porch with me.”
“I shouldn’t—”
But John wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Brody suddenly found himself walking through the rain and up the sidewalk to Melody’s house. John sat down in one of the rocking chairs.
“I really shouldn’t be here, John.”
“Sit down, son.”
With a tired sigh, Brody sat in the other chair.
“We’ll just get into another fight if she catches me here.”
“She won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“She’s gone.”
Brody frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s gone. After your fight, she packed up the baby and headed back to N
ew York. She told us goodbye first, though, which we appreciated.”
Brody couldn’t believe it. She was already gone?
“I’m sorry, John. I guess she cut her vacation short because of me. I hate that you and Sharon are missing out on a few more weeks with your granddaughter.”
“Yeah, Sharon’s not taking it well.”
“What about you?”
John just shook his head. He didn’t have to answer. Brody could see the heartache in the man’s eyes.
“If she’s gone, why are you here?” Brody asked.
“Melody asked me to keep an eye on the place,” John said. “I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. But I drive over every night about this time, make sure the place is still standing, and send her a text.”
Brody smirked. “You text?”
“Okay. Sharon sends her a text,” he said. Then he exhaled a noisy sigh. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course, John.”
“I know you guys had a fight, and I know it was ugly, but I’m just not sure you’re the only reason she left town as quickly as she did. And I’m not blaming you. Neither does Sharon. We both know our daughter is stubborn as a mule, and we’re not happy with the fact that she hadn’t talked to you about going back to the city. That was a conversation that should’ve happened long before it did. But . . . I just can’t shake the feeling that something else is going on.”
Brody considered that. “I honestly don’t know what else it would be. Besides, Melody’s always run away when things got tough.”
“I know, but she seemed . . . skittish. Scared, even.” John shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling—one I haven’t shared with my wife. Lord knows she doesn’t need something else to worry about.”
“I won’t breathe a word.”
“I appreciate that.”
John stood up from the swing and leaned against the porch railing.
“This is a fine house. Perfect place to raise a family. I know that’s what you were hoping. The wife you’ve always wanted. The baby you thought you’d never have. I know you wanted it. I wanted it for you. For both of you.”
Brody didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded.
Standing up, John gave him a gentle pat on the back before walking down the porch steps. Brody was just about to tell him goodnight when the man turned back around.