by Sherry Lewis
He turned back at the sound of her voice, his eyes covered by sunglasses. At forty-nine, he was an attractive and vital man with dark hair just beginning to gray at the temples and only a hint of thickening at his waist. He was determined to see justice done within the borders of his jurisdiction, but he was also intelligent and witty, a loving husband, devoted father and compassionate employer. After only a year, Siddah considered him a friend and a mentor, and it was that part of their relationship she counted on as she stepped back into her shoes and made her way across the parking lot.
“I know Francine is waiting for you,” she said as she drew closer. “I promise this will only take a minute.”
Evan slipped out of his suit jacket and slung it over one shoulder. “What is it? Something wrong at home?”
Hating that he’d naturally jump to that conclusion, she shook her head. “Everything’s fine. This isn’t personal.” Though she’d worked hard to lessen the Arkansas drawl Peter had called “Southern honey,” nerves always brought it back. Today, stress turned it from honey to molasses. “I heard about the new position, Evan. I want the job.”
The reflective glass kept her from seeing his eyes, but it wasn’t hard to read the plunge of his eyebrows. “That position is going to require a huge time commitment. Do you really think you’re up to it?”
“I know I am.”
Stepping sideways to get away from the glare of the sun, Evan tugged off his sunglasses and locked eyes with her. “You can put in extra hours if Chris and I need you?”
Chris Leta, the other attorney in their office, was notorious for putting in twelve-and fourteen-hour days, but Siddah would never be able to carve out the lifestyle she wanted or take care of the obligations Peter had left behind unless she made some changes. So many people had offered to help with money, especially Monty and Helene, but Siddah wouldn’t take it. She’d spent the first sixteen years of her life living on charity. As a teenager, she’d watched Aunt Suzette approach one friend or relative after another for the money to get them through. She’d hated the humiliation and the pitying looks. The hand-me-down dresses, visits to the Food Pantry, and the Sub-for-Santa Christmases had all left her burning with shame, and she’d vowed to never put her son through anything like it.
So she pushed aside guilt at the thought of being away from Bobby more than she already was, and nodded. “Absolutely.”
Evan’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t decide on the position for two months. I have to let the ads run in the paper and circulate through the government newsletters, and I have to give others an honest chance. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Yes, but by then you’ll know what I can do.”
“I don’t know,” Evan said uncertainly. “What about Bobby? How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine. Much better. School will be starting in a couple of weeks, and that will make a big difference.”
“And after school?”
“I have a great baby-sitter.”
Tucking his sunglasses into his breast pocket, Evan glanced at the tops of the trees as if he might find the answer to her question up there. “And what about you?” he asked after a long moment. “How are you doing?”
“Me? I’m fine.” She gave him a bright smile to prove it, but when the worry in his eyes didn’t abate, she sobered again. “I know I was a wreck when I started working here, but that was over a year ago. And you know what they say—time heals.”
“I know what they say. But the last thing I want to do is push you before you’re ready.”
At least he hadn’t said never. “I appreciate the concern,” she said, “but Peter’s been gone for eighteen months already. Y’all really can stop handling me with kid gloves.”
Evan started walking again and motioned for her to stay with him. “You can’t blame friends and family for worrying.”
“And I don’t. Truly. I love the people here in Libby, and I don’t know what I would have done without y’all after the accident.” She matched her pace to his. “I’ll probably never completely get over losing Peter, but I’m not as fragile as you think I am. I’m ready to move on. I just need somebody to let me do it.”
Evan’s lips quirked into a halfsmile as he aimed a keyless entry at his Denali. “Holding you back is the last thing I want to do, and I know everyone else in the office feels the same way.” He tossed his jacket inside and leaned against the open door. “If you’re sure you’re ready—”
“I am.”
“Then all right. I’ll let you work on the Whitman stabbing case. If you do well, I’ll consider you for the promotion. But only if you promise to say something if it gets to be too much. There will always be other cases, so don’t put yourself and your boy in jeopardy over this one. And I’ll reserve judgment on the promotion until later. Just make sure you get your application in before the cutoff so I can consider you. If all goes well on the case, we’ll put you in the running.”
Siddah grinned with satisfaction. “Thank you, Evan. I swear you won’t regret this.”
She was still smiling as he pulled out of the parking lot a minute later, narrowly missing a red Jeep as it pulled in. It was a small victory, but still a victory. She’d love to go out for lunch to celebrate, but celebrating alone wasn’t much fun, and her best friend Ivy was working today getting her classroom ready for the start of school. Maybe later.
Sunlight glinted off the Jeep’s windshield, momentarily blinding her. As the driver parked and slid out from behind the wheel, she froze mid-step. Everything from the set of his shoulders to the length of his stride screamed familiarity.
Her heart hammered in her chest, her hands trembled and she could scarcely breathe. She fell backward a step and tears burned her eyes. If she hadn’t known it was impossible, she’d have sworn Peter was walking toward her.
Despite the assurances she’d glibly handed to Evan, the past eighteen months fell away and she felt herself drowning in pain. She’d been so sure it had faded enough to let her move on, but she had been so wrong.
She bit the inside of her cheek to stem the tears and told herself to stop dreaming. The Jeep’s driver moved out of shadow into sunlight, but that only prompted another fierce argument with herself. He couldn’t be Peter. Peter’s straight hair had been light brown. This man’s nearly black hair fell in lazy curls to his collar. Peter’s eyes had been clear and blue as the sky in the spring. Even from a distance she could tell that this man’s were dark and narrow, set in a face that was deeply tanned from years doing who knows what.
Realizing she must look like a terrible fool, she pivoted away and hurried toward the office.
“Excuse me,” the man called after her. His voice even sounded like Peter’s, only deeper. Instinct urged her to flee, but common sense made her stop and turn around. Maybe he couldn’t see the look on her face. Maybe he didn’t care. Either way, he kept walking relentlessly toward her. “I wonder if you could help me?”
She nodded and actually croaked out a few words. “I can try.”
“Do you work here?”
“I do.”
“I wonder if you know where I can find Siddah King.”
He was here to see her? Whatever for? Frantic to appear calm, she dug her fingernails into her palms and prayed that the discomfort would keep her grounded. “Are you here on business of some kind?”
He almost smiled, but not quite. “Maybe you could just tell me where the County Attorney’s office is. I’ll explain to Mrs. King when I find her.”
She thought about sending him away until the shock of his resemblance to Peter wore off, but what good would that do? If he had business in her office, she wouldn’t be able to hide for long. Eventually, he’d learn the truth. Then she’d not only suffer the embarrassment of having lied, but she might lose the chance she’d just worked so hard to get.
“As a matter of fact, I’m Siddah,” she admitted. “How can I help you?”
His eyes widened slightly, but he held out a hand as if he wanted
to shake hers. “Well, I guess that just proves that it’s a small world, doesn’t it? I’m Gabe. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Gabe?”
“Gabe King…Peter’s brother?”
Somehow her hand found its way into his, and the touch electrified her. She jerked away quickly and backed up a step, trying to pull a thought from the fragmented pieces darting through her mind. She’d seen pictures of Gabe, of course, but they’d all been at least a decade old, and he was the last person she’d expected to see walking the sidewalks of Libby.
Gabe. The brother Peter had talked about endlessly. The brother who’d disappointed everyone in the family. The brother she’d resented from the first story she’d ever heard about him. Peter’s almost naive belief in Gabe had been hard to witness, especially since Gabe had never given him reason to keep hoping. Her resentment had deepened over the years, and it had settled into something cold and hard inside her when he missed Peter’s funeral.
Finding strength from somewhere, she lifted her eyes to meet his. “What do you want here?”
The question seemed to take him by surprise, though she had no idea why it should. “I just got into town yesterday, and I wanted to meet you. I wanted to make sure that you and the boy are okay.”
His pretense of concern disgusted her. “Well, you’ve met me,” she said, and started walking again.
“Wait a second.”
“The boy and I are fine,” she shot back over her shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend to give a damn.”
He caught up with her easily. “His name’s Bobby, isn’t it? I didn’t mean to offend you.”
His voice might be lower than Peter’s, but his inflections were nearly identical. Her heart twisted again, but that only made her angrier. “Not using my son’s name in conversation is hardly your greatest offense.”
To her surprise, he actually smiled. “So my reputation precedes me.”
“By at least ten years.”
His smile faded. “Look, I—”
She couldn’t bear to listen to him any longer, and she wasn’t sure she could survive looking at him. She opened the door and paused on the threshold. “Let’s be straight with each other, okay? I don’t have anything to say to you and there’s nothing I want to hear from you, so why don’t you just leave?”
“I know how you must feel,” he said, taking the weight of the door from her, “but if I leave without telling you why I’m here, I’m going to disappoint my mother—and you can’t possibly imagine how much I don’t want to disappoint my mother.”
Only her mother-in-law’s unfailing kindness over the years kept Siddah from stepping inside. “What does Helene have to do with this?”
“She’s the one who suggested that I come to see you.” He laughed a little and shook his head. “No, that’s not entirely true. I wanted to meet you, and I would have made my way over here on my own. Mom just persuaded me to do it now instead of later.”
“Why?”
“She’s worried about Bobby.”
“She’s not alone, but what does that have to do with you?”
“She seems to think I can help.”
In spite of her confusion, Siddah snorted. “You?” Had Helene lost her mind? “Just how does she think you can do that?”
Gabe shrugged. “She thinks Bobby’s still having a hard time with Peter’s death.”
“That’s no secret, but why does she think you can help?”
“Good question. Look, I know I haven’t exactly been a model son, brother or uncle. I understand why you’re reluctant to trust me.”
“Reluctant?” Siddah laughed and stepped back into the heat so their voices wouldn’t carry. “Try not interested.”
“Just hear me out, okay? Please?” Gabe raked fingers through his hair and shifted his weight the way Peter used to when he was nervous. He had no right to look so much like Peter. Or to sound so much like him. Or to touch that piece of her heart she didn’t want touched. Ever. But she was a notorious pushover, and she’d never been able to resist Peter when he’d looked at her like that. It was almost as hard to look away from Gabe. Much as the similarities hurt, they also gave her a strange and unwelcome comfort.
With a quick check of her watch to see how much of her lunch break was left, she gave a curt nod and headed toward the side of the building, where a towering pine would give them shade. “You’ve got ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” He followed and stepped into the shade beside her, hooking his thumbs into the back of his waistband. “I know you’ve probably heard about what happened when I left town, but there are two sides to every story. I’m not going to bore you with long explanations, mostly because even I don’t completely understand what happened, but I can tell you that things have changed. I’ve changed.”
“Well, that’s good news. Congratulations.”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I had a lot of time to think out there in the rain forest, and I’m carrying a load of regrets. I’d give anything for a chance to make things right.”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You should have come home while Peter was still here.”
“I—” His voice caught and he looked away quickly. “I’ll never be able to undo the mistakes I made with Peter,” he said after a long silence, “but Mom has told me how much Peter loved Bobby. If I can help your boy, maybe it will do a little to make up for everything I missed—” He broke off with another shrug, but Siddah heard his voice catch again. Whatever his faults, his emotion was genuine.
At least it seemed to be.
She had been fooled before. Bobby was proof of that. And even if Gabe was genuine, she wasn’t ready to just open the door on her life and let him waltz through. “And what would you do to help Bobby?”
“I won’t be here the way Peter was, but I can call. Write. See him when I am in town.”
“The way you did with Peter?”
“Better.”
“Well, it would be hard to get much worse.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it’s working. Then again, I already feel guilty enough.”
“I doubt that. It would be physically impossible for you to feel all the guilt you should. And how am I supposed to know that I can trust you?”
“You don’t. Neither do I. But I’m determined, if that counts for anything.”
In spite of herself, Siddah felt a smile tug at her lips. “That’s not the best sales pitch I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s not a pitch. It’s the truth.”
He made it easy to understand why Peter had never lost faith in his older brother, and why friends who’d known Gabe all those years ago still smiled when they talked about him. Some people called what he had “charm.” Well, Siddah had stepped in enough charm in her lifetime to know that it wasn’t always pleasant. Only time would tell whether he was genuine or not, whether this was charm or something that belonged in a barnyard.
How could she forget the hurt she’d seen on Helene and Monty’s faces over the years? Or Peter’s disappointment as holidays and birthdays passed with only a few meaningless gifts from the big brother he’d idolized?
Disappointed as he’d been, if Gabe had come back while he was alive, Peter would have forgiven everything. Knowing that made it hard for her to turn her back and tune Gabe out. “I don’t know what to say. I’m going to have to think about it.”
A grin illuminated his face and again her heart turned over. “I can’t ask for more than that.”
“At least there’s one thing we agree on.” She glanced at her watch, decided she’d given him enough time, and stepped into the sunlight. “I’ll think about it,” she said again. “I guess Helene and Monty will know where I can find you once I decide?”
“I’m staying with them, so you can leave a message if I’m not around. But I’ll only be here for a few days. If I’m going to meet Bobby while I’m here, you can’t wait too long.”
She nodded, wishing she knew h
ow to end the conversation. Nice to meet you…talk to you later…see you around. Not one of them applied.
As if he sensed her discomfort, Gabe glanced at his Jeep, then back at her. “I guess I’ll just wait to hear from you, then.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he moved a step or two away. Just when she thought the encounter was finally over, he turned back, looking straight at her with those deep, dark eyes. “Thank you, Siddah.”
She shivered involuntarily and kicked herself for letting him get to her. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”
“No, but you’ve agreed to think about it. That’s more than I expected.” With that, he turned away and strode toward his Jeep. In spite of her relief, Siddah couldn’t look away until he’d climbed inside and started the engine.
Ten minutes ago she’d assured Evan that she was ready to move beyond Peter’s death. Now, with the past all around her, she wondered if that was true…or if it had ever been.
STILL RATTLED from her meeting with Gabe, Siddah closed her kitchen door with one hip and carried the groceries she’d picked up on her way home to the table. She tossed a handful of bills from the day’s mail onto the counter and shoved her purse onto the top of the fridge.
With a glance at the clock, she put milk into the refrigerator and pulled out a cold Pepsi. She frowned when she realized that, once again, she was late. Sighing in frustration, she took a long drink and headed toward the living room, where she could hear Bobby playing his favorite video game.
How long had he been playing today? Had Whitney been able to interest him in something else? Had she even tried?
Sure enough, Bobby was on the couch, all slouched down like her Grandpa Carlisle used to sit after a few tugs on the bottle. His red hair was tousled as if he’d forgotten to comb it, and the clothes he’d worn yesterday hung off his bony shoulders and narrow hips.
Whitney bounded to her feet when Siddah entered, one finger marking her place in the paperback she’d been reading. Her pale cheeks bloomed with color and her normally thin, straight brows drew together over her nose in a frown. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was eager to be on her way.