“You’re mad at me, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I know I promised not to—”
“I'm not mad. I’m really not.”
“You're acting like you are.”
“I'm not.”
He got up and turned her to face him, but she refused to look at him, just stared above his head.
“Don't do this, dammit! I mean, if you’re pissed that’s one thing. Hell, I can understand that, but if you’re not, then how can I figure out what to do?”
She sighed and shook her head. “There’s not anything you can do. I'm unbelievably lonely, Bren, and I want you. I don’t want to deny the things we’re feeling, but we don’t have the luxury of getting caught up in romance. If we're not aware, we'll get careless— and get caught. We can't take any chances.”
He thought most of what she said was nonsense. What he was feeling was real, despite her struggle to think otherwise. Still, they did have to be careful, at least for right now, and so he couldn't let himself be distracted. He held her a moment longer, then released her abruptly and fled to his room to change.
Hope twitched awake in bed, and the foggy memory of some dream she knew she’d rather forget surfaced in the corners of her awareness. They were at a park, and Michelle was crawling along happily in the green grass. Hope was looking at Bren and when she turned back to the baby, she realized the little girl was standing on the very edge of a precipice. Her dream self knew she’d never get there in time—
A cold sweat coated her skin and she wiped at her forehead with a shaky hand. It was the sort of sweat that only accompanied a nightmare.
Three days had passed since Bren’s ultimatum. The pressure was like a great bubble surrounding Hope, and that bubble was getting smaller and smaller. The tighter it got around her, the harder she found it to breathe. She couldn’t let them go on like this.
“You okay?” Brennan’s voice was hoarse when he spoke from the bed next to her.
She rolled over to look his direction in the mostly dark room. “I’m fine.”
Michelle was in bed with him. Her skittish nerves made her short tempered with the baby, and so last night when the little one fought sleep, it was Bren who took her and finally coaxed her to close her eyes for the night.
“I’m not fine.” She spoke again, confessing in a soft whisper.
She watched as his shadowy figure rolled over. He lay on his back, arms crossed behind his head and was silent a moment. “I promise no hanky-panky, if you want to come over here.”
She tossed her covers aside and leapt the distance between their beds to jump in beside him. She lay atop the blankets next to his body, barely touching him. It was an uncomfortable position, her body tense and stiff next to him.
She heard the rumble of his little chuckle and smiled at her foolishness before snuggling close to him and putting her head on his chest. In turn, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
“If you’re cold, you’d better grab some blankets from your bed. All bets are off if you try to get in here with me. Flesh to flesh is more than I think I can bear.”
She nodded, almost knocking her head against his chin. “This is stupid, Brennan. I’m being stupid.”
“I’d never call you stupid, Hope. Stubborn, yes, but not stupid.”
She raised her torso so that she could look down at him. His expression was hard to decipher--some cross between anxiety and anticipation.
“Are you sure you want to take us to New Durma? Absolutely sure?”
“Yep.” He didn’t hesitate. The answer was quick and solid.
Hope dropped her forehead, then inhaled and exhaled a few times against the covers until the heat of her own breath stifled her.
When she raised her head again she also raised a hand, placing it against Bren’s stubbly cheek. “Tomorrow? We’ll head that way tomorrow, okay?”
He nuzzled his cheek into her hand a moment before nodding. “Okay. We’d better get some sleep.”
When she started to get up, he tightened the arm around her. “I promised I wouldn’t try anything.”
Hope hesitated, but she knew it was a lost effort. She needed his arm around her, the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. She needed the comfort he offered, and for once she refused to let herself get caught up in thoughts of the types of strings that comfort would come with. Strings or not, she didn’t want to leave him now.
So she didn’t. She leaned over toward the other bed and pulled the blanket from it, then wrapped herself up in both of Brennan’s arms.
Bren found sleep evaded him even as Hope cuddled her warm body against his. All of this time with her had been a very long dry spell for him, a guy who was used to having a woman in his bed on a regular basis. He was just about to coax his thoughts into a different direction than the ones he’d been having when Hope sighed and turned her head up. He felt her lips near his neck, and her warm breath moist against his skin.
For a moment he thought perhaps she was awake, but her even breathing dashed that hope. It did nothing to dash his body’s reaction to having her so close to him. It was going to be a long night.
The baby made a sucking sound beside him, and he shifted so that he could look down at her. She wiggled a bit, then settled back into contentment.
In order to force his mind away from the attractive woman in his arms, he considered their trip to New Durma. He couldn’t necessarily say this had been a dream of his. When he first found out about his mother’s property, he had wanted nothing to do with it. Time and age cooled his instant reaction to what she called his birthright. Now a deep-seeded desire to know who he was and where he was from awoke within him.
He loved his mother. He missed her even now after all of those years. Her absence made him realize how much she meant to him. She’d worked hard to keep discipline in their household. As with most teens and adolescents, Bren resented it. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her; he just didn’t like being tethered.
Of course, that was usually the problem with Hope, too. She expected more of him than he wanted to give, and that had felt a little too much like parenting to him.
A sound down the hallway snatched his attention from the thoughts and memories churning in his mind, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized it was almost daybreak. So much for getting some sleep.
But then, he’d known when he invited Hope into the bed with him that sleep wasn’t going to be a possibility, at least for him.
New Durma was more like a village than a town. It had a single main street with a few small shops and stores. As far as they could tell, there wasn’t even a stop light in the place. They arrived just about a half hour before dark, and the setting sun veiled the buildings in whispers of lovely orange and pink.
Bren was anxious to see the property left to him by his mother, but they agreed it was too late to go that night. Instead, they backtracked a bit to get a room at a bed and breakfast they’d passed just a few miles from town.
Marvin, the old man who ran the place, got a funny twinkle in his eye when Brennan registered them.
“You’ll be very comfortable in the manor house room just upstairs. It’s our finest room.”
Hope looked up, glancing at Bren before turning to the man. “Any room will be fine. It will probably be for just this night.”
“Oh no, ma’am, you must stay in the manor house room. Please.”
Michelle was on the floor next to her, content in her baby carrier, gurgling and playing with her feet. As the manager of the bed and breakfast stepped away from them to retrieve their keys, Hope crouched down to dig into the diaper bag.
“Here, Michelle,” she said softly, and gave the baby her stuffed rattle.
“Nichole,” Bren reminded her.
When she looked up at him, it was with an ashen face. “I—forgot.”
She and Michelle were now going by the names Sealla and Nichole Fanning. He knew it was going to take them both a little time to get used to their cover story. He smiled just barely. “I know.”<
br />
“I'm sorry,” she told him shaking the rattle in front of the baby until she took it in both hands.
“Don't apologize. We're each going to make mistakes. We just have to try and be more careful.”
“I know,” she sighed, then forced a smile when the clerk returned.
“Right this way, sir,” the man motioned, taking their bags from Brennan and leading them up the stairs. He glanced back over his shoulder at them a few times as he gave them the details about the home and about breakfast the next morning, all with a huge smile on his face.
“Man, he’s eager to please, isn’t he?” Hope muttered as she removed Michelle from the carrier. “Geez, this place is nice.”
It was, indeed. The entire room was large enough that it must have been a master bedroom long before the home became a bed and breakfast. He pushed open the door of the adjoining bathroom and found a Victorian style porcelain tub with a pedestal sink. Walls were adorned with grapevine printed wallpaper.
“Yeah, it’s real nice. He didn’t charge us much for it though. He was a little strange, don’t you think?”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” she told him, plopping down on the bed with baby Michelle still in her arms. “He was real strange, Bren. You don’t think he could know something, do you?”
Bren chewed on that a moment while he rummaged through his bag for a change of clothes. He pulled a pair of sweats out and dropped them on top of the bag while he stepped away and leaned against a wall.
“I don’t think so. I mean, his attitude wasn’t wary or concerned. I kind of got the impression—the impression he wanted to make an impression. He was sort of treating us like royalty or something.”
Hope nodded, leaning close to Michelle’s ear and whispering something to the baby before kissing her chubby cheek noisily.
“You regretting this yet?” she asked, not looking at him but still cooing to the little one.
“Of course not. I should want to see my mother’s property, right?”
She suddenly considered what she had always wanted out of life. Always, she had said that she wanted to find a good man to love her and marry her, then to have several children. Underneath all of those good intentions, she knew what she’d really always wanted was Brennan.
Years ago, Brennan James Rawley wouldn't have been considered by many to be a good man. He was promiscuous, and he partied too much and drank even more. Still, Hope had seen something in him that no one else could seem to see. She thought that deep inside was a man who was really upright and worthy. His actions over the last few weeks proved that to her.
As for loving her, she’d long ago given up on the idea that he would ever fall in love with her. He cared for her, true, and that was all she could hope to gain from him. Yes, it seemed that she had almost everything she had ever wanted.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I was wondering what the house will be like,” she lied. “It’s been abandoned a long time. Maybe it won’t even be there anymore.”
“Well, I’m pretty experienced at fixing stuff up. And I guess we’ll just build a new one if we have to.”
She laughed, and he could hear the nervous shudder in the sound. “How can you be so carefree? You don't seem to be even the least bit worried.”
“It won't do any good to worry,” he answered, though in truth, he was feeling a little terrified. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he might be able to find a clue to his real family. He didn’t want to pin any hopes on that thought, so he tried to keep it locked somewhere deep in his mind.
Taking Hope's hand, he smiled at her, grabbed up his sweats and headed for the bathroom.
“I’m gonna take a shower.”
“My Lord.”
Brennan gasped as he stepped out of the car. It was a cloudy day with the threat of a shower hanging heavy in the air. Hope opened the door and stood up in the car, hanging one hand on the window edge of the door and the other on the roof. Her eyes focused upon a world she had never seen before.
The land was pure, almost entirely untouched except for the gravel drive they were parked on. Green plains stretched along the countryside to the horizon, broken only by clusters of trees and in the far distance, a little pond.
“Beautiful,” she whispered in awe.
Brennan whispered under his breath and the only thing she thought she could decipher were the words, “I belong here.”
“There.” Hope lifted a hand and pointed up the drive even as Michelle started grunting in the backseat.
There was a small cottage-type house in the distance. Brennan looked in that direction for several moments then turned back to her. He raised his eyebrows in askance, and she nodded. “Let me get Michelle, and we can walk that way.”
She gathered the little girl, propping her on her hip as she closed the car door.
Brennan was there beside her, waiting. When Michelle saw him, her eyes lit up, and she put her hands out to him with a little screech. He grinned from the side of his mouth as he took her from Hope’s arms, lifting her high onto his shoulders. He held her tight on both sides as she clasped his hair with a shrill sound of excitement.
When they got to the house, they all stopped just in front of the steps and stared. She would guess it was built in about the 1930s with a batten door on wrought-iron hinges. The exterior was covered in shingles that were in pretty desperate need of a new coat of paint.
“Well, it’s still standing,” Hope said in a light, optimistic tone, stepping up on the concrete stair on her tip-toes so she could see if a missing shutter on the left front window might be hiding behind a hedge. It was, partially buried under a coat of dirt and leaves.
“Barely.”
A giddy laugh escaped her, and she couldn’t hide the wide smile when she turned to look at him. “It’s darling. Think of all the work we could do to make it a home. We could—” she choked off her words and allowed the smile to melt away, when she realized the thoughts of them as a single family unit swarming her mind. “We could certainly make it habitable.”
Brennan flinched when Michelle yanked his hair and he held her with one hand while forcing the locks from her grasp with the other.
“We should probably check out the inside before getting too excited.” He lowered his head and slid the baby off his shoulders and into his arms.
Hope didn’t wait for him but reached out to test the front door. The knob was locked and didn’t turn, but the door was loose on its hinges and with a little tug, it swung open. Even knowing the electricity wouldn’t be on, she still automatically reached for and flipped the switch just inside the house. There was bit of light coming from a room past the vestibule and to her left. She headed that way, stepping around furniture in the room to get to the shades and pull them fully open.
“Hmmm, there’s furniture,” she noted, eying a couch, loveseat, coffee table and end tables all covered with sheets and many years’ worth of dirt and dust.
She heard Brennan coughing, and when she looked, she saw him waving dust away from his face with a hand and grinning at Michelle. Laughing and shaking her head, Hope started on through the house to the next room, this one a dining room with more covered furnishings.
Each room was the same, completely furnished as if one day someone had just packed up with the intention of returning. Backtracking through the house to the master bedroom at the front, Hope decided to look more closely at things. She flung the checked sheet away from a bureau. She opened the top, then the middle and then the lower drawer but found them all empty.
“Nothing?” Brennan asked, not touching anything, but walking around the bed to loop his finger around the window shade and pull it aside. “Nice view from here.”
“Wow, look at these,” Hope breathed, picking up an ornate hairbrush and hand mirror. “They’ve got to be real silver. Look at how they’re tarnished. Sterling doesn’t do that.”
“Kind of crazy no one has tried to go through the place for valuab
les if it’s been abandoned so long,” he told her, approaching to examine the objects.
Michelle reached out her chubby fingers for the brush.
Hope started to give it to her, thought better and instead reached into Brennan’s pocket for the car keys and gave her those instead.
“No one’s gone through this place because anyone with any sense would know better. Now perhaps you should tell me what you’re doing on this property.”
Cold tingly sensations swept from Hope’s belly through her legs when she heard the voice from the doorway. She looked to find a very tall and thin man with dirty blond hair staring hard at them. He was dressed in what looked to be a riding suit and judging by his accent, she thought he might be English.
“My name is Brennan Rawley, and I own this property. That means I could ask you the same thing.”
The man’s gray eyes flinched ever so slightly, and he gave an appearance of being startled but recovered in an instant. He raised an eyebrow and slid his hands into his pockets.
“I expect you can prove that.”
Hope didn’t have to look at Bren to know his hackles were up. The air crackled with intensity, and it was all she could do to trust him to restrain himself when she grabbed Michelle from his outstretched arms. He took a few steps forward to put his body between Hope and the man.
“Do you walk into people’s houses every day and tell them to prove their ownership?”
The tall man’s frown deepened. “I didn’t tell you to do anything. If you say you own it, then I can’t do more than accept your word.” He inclined his head for effect. “For now. I expect we’ll be speaking again, sir.”
When he turned to leave, Hope leaned around Brennan’s body to call out to the man, “And who are you?”
He had already passed out of their line of sight, but Hope heard his footsteps halt in the foyer.
“Jeremy. Jeremy Rawley, miss.”
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