Whisper of Love (The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor, Book Five)

by Melissa Foster

  “But will you be okay when you see the people who know what your brother did?”

  He’d been asking himself that for the last week. “Facing my demons means doing exactly that.” He took her hand and headed for the school.

  “This is new.” He pushed the button on the front door and a buzzer sounded, letting them into the building. “How is that secure? I could be carrying a gun.”

  Tempest pointed to a sign on the door directing visitors to the front office. The office felt smaller, more oppressive. There was a time when the office had felt threatening because of what it had meant to be sent there. Now it felt oppressive for an entirely different reason. Even though it had been fifteen years, he found himself scanning the faces of the women behind the desk. Luckily, he didn’t recognize them. A minor victory.

  A dark-haired woman looked up from behind a computer. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  “Yes. Hi.” Shit, what was he supposed to say? Hi. My brother was killed and I wanted to see if I could walk through the halls without freaking out. “I went to this school, and I was wondering if I could walk around and—”

  “Nash?”

  Nash glanced at the balding man approaching from a hallway on the other side of the room. It took a minute for him to realize it was his brother’s best friend, Roy Wagner. Roy had been with PJ the night of the accident. He’d broken his jaw, both arms, his right knee, and his left shoulder. When Nash and his parents had moved away, Roy was still in the hospital with his jaw wired shut, or at least that’s what Nash’s parents had told him.

  He looked him squarely in the eye, anger raging inside him. “Roy” came out icily.

  “I’m the principal here now. How crazy is that?” Roy offered a hand.

  Nash fought the urge to smack it away. “We just wanted to have a look around.” He put a protective arm around Tempest.

  “How about we talk in my office first?” Roy motioned toward an office at the far side of the room, and Nash reluctantly followed him in, closing the door behind them.

  Roy motioned to the chairs in front of his desk.

  “I’d rather stand,” he said sharply. “Roy was with PJ the night of the accident,” he explained to Tempest. “He was in on the robbery.”

  Tempest stepped closer to him. He appreciated it more than she’d ever know, because she was about the only thing stopping him from knocking Roy’s front teeth out.

  “Wait a minute.” Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Nash, that’s not true.”

  “My ass,” he seethed. “The cops told us—”

  Roy held up a hand. “No, man. I know what the cops said, but that wasn’t true.” He leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “Didn’t you read the papers that summer? The clerk had it all wrong. Yes, we were all in the convenience store, so to him we looked like we were all in on the holdup, but PJ and I didn’t rob the place. That was my jackass cousins.”

  Nash’s vision closed in on him, and he stumbled backward. “Is that the story you came up with to save your ass? So you could have this life? This career? Stay in the town and hold your fucking head up high?”

  “Nash,” Tempest said, reaching for him.

  Nash brushed her off. “I heard the police. We were in town for two weeks after the accident. The clerk dropped the charges, but only because of the accident. He made a statement that the families had suffered enough. So don’t give me this bullshit.”

  “Where was I, Nash?” Roy’s voice escalated as he pushed from the desk. Nash had a solid four inches on him, but that didn’t stop Roy from getting in his face. “I was in the fucking hospital with my mouth wired shut and messed up from a head injury. I couldn’t clear up a damn thing. Once my head worked right, I told my parents the truth, but they were my cousins. My parents wanted to protect them.”

  TENSION RADIATED OFF Nash like a furnace. The veins in his neck bulged and his eyes narrowed. He pushed Roy back against the desk.

  “Nash,” Tempest snapped, but he didn’t even look like he heard her. He was breathing too hard, shaking all over.

  “So you let everyone believe my brother was a thief?” Nash grabbed him by the collar.

  Tempest grabbed his arm, and he shrugged her off.

  “No! No, I didn’t!” Roy held his hands up in surrender.

  “Nash, listen to him,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm again. His skin was hot as fire. Rage blazed in his eyes. “Please, Nash.”

  “I told the papers,” Roy said as fast as he could. “Really, man. You can look it up. I told them. They ran an article. It was months after the accident. I had to deal with my parents, and in the end I went against their wishes. Please, man. You know I loved PJ.” Tears brimmed in Roy’s eyes. “He was like my fucking brother, man.”

  Nash huffed out one harsh breath after another, tears filling his eyes.

  Tempest knew he was too hurt to hear what Roy had said, too angry, too lost in emotion to react. She touched his face, forcing his chin in her direction.

  “Look at me, Nash. Please, let’s look it up. He was just a kid when it happened. Listen to what he’s saying.”

  With jerky movements he threw Roy back and wiped his forearm over his eyes. He sank down to the chair, elbows on knees, and buried his face in his hands.

  Roy sat beside him, shaking and red faced. “I was messed up, man. Not just physically, but I’d lost my best friend, too. Remember?”

  Nash stared blankly at him, breathing so hard Tempest could hear him even from two feet away.

  “PJ and I were in the back of the store,” Roy explained. “We went up to pay and saw my cousins holding the guy up. They didn’t even have a gun. They had their phones pressed against their jacket pockets and the guy was so scared he thought they were guns. Hell, we thought they were guns. PJ and I bolted. We ran to the car, and my cousins jumped in the car screaming for him to drive. PJ took off like a bat out of hell. He was hollering at them, ‘What the hell was that? Why’d you do that?’ and then the cops were chasing us, and he took that turn and—the world went black.”

  Nash’s chin dropped to his chest, tears streaking his cheeks. “He didn’t do it,” he said in a raspy whisper.

  Tempest went to him and he pulled her down on his lap and buried his face in her neck, unabashedly sobbing as he repeated, “He didn’t do it. He didn’t do it. Jesus, baby. He didn’t do it.”

  Beside them, Roy’s shoulders sagged as he gave in to his own tears, looking guilty and helpless. Tempest wanted to hold him, too. She wanted to take away all the years of pain and guilt and anger both men had endured.

  What seemed like a long while later—and not nearly long enough—Nash sat back and wiped his face without apology, without shame, and he reached for Roy. Roy embraced him. Tempest pushed to her feet, but Nash dragged her into the hug. And there in the office of his brother’s best friend, she watched the two broken men put themselves back together.

  Chapter Twenty

  NASH PACED THE deck at a little after one o’clock the next morning with the phone pressed to his ear, relaying to his mother what he’d learned from his visit to Oak Rivers. They’d visited PJ’s grave, and he’d broken down again, but it had done him good to finally say goodbye to his brother without a black cloud hanging over them. He’d wanted to call his mother last night, but he’d realized his father had died without knowing the truth, and it had knocked his feet right out from under him. He’d been in no shape to speak to anyone other than Tempest. Even after tucking Phillip into bed, which usually was enough sweetness to make his shittiest days better, he’d been a mess. He and Tempest had talked for more than an hour, but she’d been emotionally and physically exhausted, and she’d fallen asleep in his arms. But he was too restless to close his eyes, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep until he spoke to his mother.

  “Didn’t the neighbors get in touch with you?” he asked.

  There was a long silence. He pictured his mother’s warm dark eyes clouding over. Afraid she’d clam up again, he said, “Mom�
��”

  “We cut all ties. You knew that.” Her voice cracked, and he knew she was crying. “Remember what it was like on the boat? Daddy couldn’t talk about what happened. I couldn’t—”

  Sobs burst through the airwaves, bringing tears to Nash’s eyes. He should have gone to see her, not delivered the news over the phone. But he couldn’t wait another day. Not when he knew the news would bring her as much relief as it had brought him—after she got through the initial shock and pain of reliving that awful time.

  “We were ashamed. We were broken. Our baby had just died in the most horrific way, and the person we knew him to be was shattered.”

  “I know,” Nash choked out. “But now we know the truth. Mom, I need you in my life. Phillip needs you in his life. I can’t live with this gaping hole inside me anymore, and if that makes me selfish, I’m sorry. I know you have your reasons for not seeing him, but we need you in our lives.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. It hurt so badly to see him and to know you were creating this beautiful life with a son you’d given your brother’s name, and…” Sobs broke through the line.

  Nash pressed his finger and thumb to his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears, but it was no use.

  “I’m sorry,” his mother pleaded. “It’s not fair to you or to Phillip. I just couldn’t stand that PJ was gone, that he’d never have those things.”

  Nodding, Nash realized his mother couldn’t see him. “I know,” he managed. “I miss you. I miss you so damn bad, Mom.”

  “Baby, baby, baby,” she said through her tears. “I miss you, too, but I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I have painted Phillip four pictures. I’ve knitted him nine pairs of mittens since the time I saw him. I couldn’t bring myself to send them.”

  Nash sank down to the bench, laughing and crying at once.

  “And I think I’ve driven Bradley crazy, I’ve made mac and cheese so many times.” Bradley was her new husband.

  “Oh, fuck,” he sobbed.

  “Language,” she said with a laugh, a cry, and so much love it made him ache. “You know, Bradley and I have this little RV. We could close up the gallery the week of Thanksgiving. I could make you some of your favorite mac and cheese.”

  “I’d like that. And, Mom, I need to tell you something else. I’ve met someone…”

  Nash told her about Tempest and about Tempest’s family. And then they talked about PJ again. When they made their way to the topic of his father, his mother told him that his father had never believed what the police had said. Maybe the universe had spoken to him in some magical way. He felt better knowing that and wished his father had conveyed that to him over those tumultuous years. It might have opened lines of communication, at least a little. But he’d come to accept that some ghosts would never be fully put to rest.

  He sat outside for a long time after they ended the call doing nothing more than taking deep, cleansing breaths. He looked out over the yard, thinking about the walks he and Phillip and Tempest had been taking together. She made songs up about everything from the number of steps it took to walk around the pond to the pretty pink flowers and their blue-petaled friends she and Phillip picked.

  Feeling more clearheaded than he had in years, at two fifteen a.m.—a time that would forever mark the blending of his new and old lives—he headed down the steps and crossed the dew-drenched grass toward the locked barn by the pond.

  “ANGEL, BABY, WAKE up.”

  Tempest groaned and rolled onto her stomach. “Is it four o’clock already?”

  “No, but I want to show you something.”

  She opened one eye and Nash smiled down at her.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  “Why do you look like you’ve downed seven barrels of coffee? Aren’t you tired?”

  “Nope.” He lifted her up to a sitting position and slid one of his T-shirts over her head.

  “What are you doing?” She fell sideways onto the mattress and closed her eyes.

  “Just getting started,” he said, struggling to get a sock on her foot.

  “Nash…?” He got one sock on, and she grabbed his head, her foggy brain finally clearing. “Are you delirious? It’s—” She grabbed her phone and checked the time—3:45 a.m. She groaned and fell back to the mattress again.

  He managed to get her other sock on and was busy shoving a pair of his sweatpants up over her knees.

  She groaned again. “Why are you dressing me like a street urchin at three o’clock in the morning?”

  He pushed her feet into her cowgirl boots and pulled her upright. “I need to show you something before the sun comes up.” He guided her out the back door, and she snuggled against him, warding off the cold.

  “Brr.”

  “Sorry, baby.” He held her close as they traipsed across the grass to the barn by the pond. “Stay here.”

  “As opposed to going to a ball in my new clothes?” she grumbled. As he pulled open the barn doors and disappeared inside, she called out, “Do you remember me telling you I need my slee—”

  Tiny white holiday lights sparked to life inside the barn.

  She shuffled forward. Lights shimmered around each window. The dark curtains were gone, the glass sparkling clean. A bright red Christmas tree skirt sat in the middle of the concrete floor beneath a partially finished metal table and chair. A pile of metal was stacked along the far wall.

  “What is this? Are you going to have a holiday party in here?”

  He took her hand, flashing a smile even more radiant than the one she’d seen in the article the first day they’d spoken on the phone. “This is your classroom. Or it will be if you want it. We can put down carpet and paint the walls. I only put the Christmas tree skirt down to give you an idea of how a carpet would brighten it up.”

  Her hand flew over her mouth, and tears filled her eyes.

  “You said the universe would give you a sign.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled down at her. “The universe got confused, and it spoke to me instead. It doesn’t look like much yet, but we’ll make it beautiful and comfortable for the kids. It’s yours, angel.”

  “Nash.” She laughed and cried and kissed him so hard their front teeth knocked. They both pulled back, holding their mouths. “Are you sure? I mean, how much rent—Ohmygod. I never signed the lease. Or paid my rent. Nash! How could you let me get away with that?”

  His deep, loud, hearty laugh filled the air. “Do you know how much I love you? How could I charge you rent after making out with you?”

  Fresh tears flooded her cheeks as he cradled her face in his big, warm hands and said, “I love you, Tempest. I love you more than life itself, and I want to help make your dreams come true, just as you’ve helped us.” He sealed his vow with a kiss. His alarm went off and he kissed her again, tender and sweet.

  “Come on. I know you need your sleep. Let’s go to our room.” He turned out the lights, and they headed toward the house.

  “You mean rooms.”

  “No, I mean room,” he said casually.

  She stopped walking. “What about Phillip?”

  “Phillip loves you. He’s three, baby. He doesn’t think in terms of sex, and I’m done pretending. I love you, and it’s time you and I woke up in the same bed.”

  “Really?” She grabbed his side, afraid her wobbly knees would give out.

  “Really, baby. If you want to.”

  Was he kidding? She wound her arms around his neck and went up on her toes, pressing a kiss to the center of his scruffy chin. “Can we live in the room with the bathtub so we don’t have to run down the hall to get cleaned up?”

  He laughed again, and he sounded so free, she wanted to hear it again and again. As she looked over her shoulder at the barn he’d brought to life, she had a feeling this was only the beginning of the freeing Nash would experience.

  “I’ll go one better. Once Phillip is in preschool and I sell my first sculpture, we’ll make that nook into a real bathroom.”

  “
You’re going to do it? For real?”

  “The bathroom?” he teased as they headed toward the house.

  “Sculpt!”

  “Yes. I texted Hattie and told her I’d have a piece ready by Christmas. She hasn’t answered the text because she’s probably fast asleep, but—”

  She squealed and leaped into his arms.

  “I guess that’s a yes to moving into the same room?”

  “Yes! I love you, Nash. I love you and Phillip so much. Yes, yes, yes!”

  He spun her around, and there beneath the predawn sky, a miracle happened. The stars finally aligned.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “HONEY, ARE YOU sure Nash is okay?” Nash’s mother, Sandy, asked Tempest as a round of applause sounded in the preschool auditorium. It was the week before Christmas, and Sandy and her husband, Bradley, were staying with them. Sandy and Bradley were both warm and lovely, and Sandy had come bearing so many handmade gifts she’d made over the last few years for Nash and Phillip, it was clear how much she’d missed them and how broken up she was about turning her back on them. Their reunion had been as devastatingly beautiful as it was heartbreaking. Sandy had obviously been drowning in grief for a very long time. Tempest was glad she’d finally found her way back up to the surface.

  “He’s more nervous than an expectant mother,” Tempest’s mother, sitting on Tempest’s other side, chimed in.

  Phillip had adjusted to preschool better than they could have hoped. His class’s holiday concert was in full swing, and Tempest’s entire family, along with Jilly and her siblings, had come to watch. Each of the children had a short singing solo, and Nash had been practicing with Phillip for weeks. He’d even offered to play the guitar to try to make Phillip more comfortable, but Tempest was pretty sure Phillip was already comfortable. His daddy, however, was another story altogether.

  Nash sat on a chair on the side of the stage wringing his hands together. His guitar was perched between his legs. He looked so handsome in his white dress shirt and dark slacks, Tempest had dragged him into one of the classrooms for a quick make-out session while her family had gone into the auditorium.