by Donna Alward
“I’m sorry, Abby, but I don’t get—”
She smiled sadly. “Bear with me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Okay.”
“My mom was killed in an accident when I was fifteen. She was driving drunk and hit a tree, and as much as I thought I hated her, she was still my mother, you know? By then my grandmother was all I had left. I finished high school, stayed close to her for college, but then she died, too. And I was all alone. Then I found out that there was this whole family out there that I never had the chance to know. I felt like my relationship with Gram had been meaningless, because she’d kept so much hidden. I never really knew her, you know? Every person I’d cared about, the people I’d trusted to be there for me … suddenly all gone.”
“Abs,” Tom said, softer now, and he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
“That was the lowest I’d ever been, losing her,” she confessed. “Gram had always told us that her parents died when she was a baby and she had been raised by her grandparents. They were in their seventies and died right before she got pregnant with my dad. And that was that.”
She leaned back, away from his embrace. “Don’t you see? Coming here, meeting you, all of it, it’s just been so confusing. I’ve never really had a home before. I’m not sure I’d even know what to do with one.”
She swallowed, looked out the window. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about has disappeared,” she murmured. “It hurts so much. If I stay here, if I start to care about this place … about the people … Today, I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just trying to get some clarity.”
CHAPTER 20
Tom felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. Things that hadn’t made sense suddenly clicked into place. Her insecurities and her independence. The way she stood on the fringes, holding herself away from getting too close to anyone. Her need for control.
He closed his eyes. The way she’d melted in his arms, and the way she’d stopped him before he could make love to her. The way he’d yelled at her at the cemetery. Just as he’d started holding bits of himself back after that night at the Rusty Fern, Abby had built walls around herself. Walls that, if he were right, were in danger of being broken down—if he were willing to push.
“I wish you’d told me sooner,” he murmured, opening his eyes and looking into her pale face. “I would have been…”
“What? More sympathetic? The last thing I want is anyone’s pity.”
She was so much stronger than she gave herself credit for. “That day in your room. When you asked me to stop…”
Why was it he couldn’t seem to finish a thought? Even now, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Of revealing too much.
She smiled at him. It wobbled a bit and her cheeks flushed. “You’re going to think me terribly innocent now. But the morning with you on my bed … I meant it when I said it had been a long time. I’ve never even—” She broke off and looked away. “Well, it wouldn’t have been my first time, but let’s just say I’ve yet to have my mind blown.”
What was she saying? That she’d never experienced good sex? A climax? The idea made him instantly hard. He would have made damn sure it was as good for her as for him.
Tom looked at her, dressed in his baggy clothes, her hair loose around her collar, her rain-washed skin glowing in the lamplight. She was a beautiful, confident, scarred woman. He thought briefly about Erin, who had sat on this very sofa and begged him to run away with her. Who had said she couldn’t make it without him. Tom had felt guilty that he couldn’t love her anymore, couldn’t take care of her. Erin had needed him and made no secret of it.
Abby was different. Abby didn’t expect anyone to take care of her. She relied on herself. From the first day, she’d gone toe-to-toe with him as he’d put his foot through her porch floor.
She was far more fearless than she realized.
He reached over and touched a finger to her cheek. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”
She smiled so sweetly his heart ached with it.
“I don’t know about that. But it’s nice of you to say so.”
She deserved so much better than the hand she’d been dealt. A home and security. A man who loved her. Maybe a couple of kids running around. She was kind but firm—she’d be a great mother. And he was torn between wanting to be the one to give those things to her and afraid he couldn’t. Time and circumstances had conditioned Tom not to fight. And while she’d opened up to him this afternoon, the whole tone of the conversation felt like a prologue to a new chapter called Moving On.
But that didn’t stop the chemistry from fizzing between them. Their gazes clung, and without saying anything more to ruin the moment, they began drifting closer, closer. His gaze dropped to her lips and they parted slightly, anticipating the touch of his mouth on hers—
When the phone rang they both jumped. “It can wait,” he said, his voice soft and husky. “Let it ring.”
She sat back. “No, answer it. With the storm it might be something important.”
He squeezed her hand and got up, going to the kitchen for the handset, disappointed at the interruption. When he returned to the living room moments later, he sat heavily on the sofa. There was a stinging behind his eyes that he couldn’t quite blink away.
“What is it?” she asked immediately. “What’s happened? It’s bad, isn’t it?”
He shook his head and gazed into her worried eyes. “That was Jess. It’s Sarah. She lost the baby.”
Abby’s eyes instantly filled. “Oh, God.”
“She’s in the hospital in Portland. They want to keep her overnight just in case.”
“They were so excited,” Abby said quietly. “After trying so long, for this to happen…”
Sadness settled around them. “The whole family is there,” he said. “One thing you have to say for the Collinses. They stick together when the going is rough.”
He used to be a part of that circle. Still was, but only to a point. It hurt sometimes, because he was as close to his cousins as if they were his sisters … and brother.
“You need to be there. Go.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going with you.”
She surprised him by standing up. The Abby he’d come to know shied away from anything bordering on personal involvement.
“I’m not sure my being there would be the best thing,” he suggested.
“Well, here’s a newsflash, Tom. This isn’t about you. This is about your cousin. And if Jess didn’t think you should be there, she wouldn’t have called you.” She tugged at his hand. “They are your family. Do you know how lucky you are to have them? Don’t you think I’d give anything to have mine again?”
She was right. But, big man that he was, Tom was scared. Of reaching out and of having his hand slapped back again.
“Jess and Sarah are right about one thing. This thing with Josh has gone on too long. Put it aside for this one day and just be there for her.”
How could he argue with that? She was absolutely right. There was just one problem.
What were the chances Josh would be on the same page?
* * *
Josh paced the hallway, away from Jess and away from the knowing eyes of his mother. Meggie saw too much when she looked at him and being here wasn’t easy. Right now he wished he was just about anywhere else.
But Sarah needed the family around her. He’d heard a lot of talk about God’s will lately. Well, if this was God’s will, it sucked.
And now they were all left outside in the hall, waiting for Mark to come out of Sarah’s room, waiting to go hold her hand or kiss her cheek and fumble about with trying to find the right words to say when there weren’t any right words at all. Nothing could make this better.
He stopped and looked out the window, staring unseeing into the sunny afternoon. The thunderstorms in Jewell Cove had blown through here earlier, leaving everything scoured and clean, like nature’s pressure washer. Pristine an
d beautiful while inside his guts were churning.
He’d wanted babies. Erin’s babies. He’d secretly hoped that she’d retire from the military with him, that she’d get pregnant with their child and opt not to do another tour. They’d talked about it, even. About starting a family and leaving the military life behind them for good.
But she had shipped out one last time. One final chance to do her part, she’d said, before coming back to Hartford. But he’d known all along. It wasn’t about duty or patriotism that last time. It had been to put distance between them and the marriage that never quite seemed to work.
After she was gone he’d discovered the receipts for her birth control. She’d been on them for months. The whole time they’d talked about having a baby and lamenting each month when she got her period, she’d been secretly taking them to prevent it.
He knew why she’d done it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want babies. She didn’t want his babies. And that hurt most of all.
Jess went by him, focused on something down the corridor, and he turned his head to follow her movement. “You came,” he heard her say, and he saw Tom walking toward them.
Josh’s fingers tightened into fists.
That woman was with him. Abby Foster, the one who’d inherited the mansion and had so coolly made him feel like an idiot at Sarah’s barbecue. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that fit so loosely on her tiny frame that he knew they were Tom’s.
Maybe he should be grateful that Tom had managed to do what Josh, so far, had not. He’d moved on. Instead he just felt angry and jealous.
“How is she, Jess?” Abby’s voice reached him, and he had to give her credit. She seemed genuinely concerned.
“About how you’d expect.”
“The whole family’s here,” Tom said, and his gaze slid to Josh.
There was no animosity in the way his cousin looked at him. He simply waited … for what? For Josh to say he was sorry? For them to bury the hatchet? Josh knew he hadn’t always played fair. At the barbecue Tom had said that Josh won, but he was wrong. Josh had always known exactly where he stood in Erin’s heart. And he’d let that fact eat away at him a little each day.
And for what? Erin was gone.
He and Tom had been like brothers growing up. To say that he’d missed that closeness would be an understatement. Seeing Tom on the docks had hurt. It brought back memories of how things used to be along with a knowledge that they could never be the same again.
Since Erin’s death, holding on to his resentment had been all that had kept him going sometimes. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t live with the poison of it eating up his soul.
He stepped forward, his heart knocking around a little bit as he wasn’t used to either backing down or apologizing. But maybe Jess was right. Maybe it was time to put pride aside. For the sake of the family.
“Tom,” he said, holding out his hand.
Josh was dimly aware of Jess’s mouth dropping open and Abby’s eyes widening, but he made sure he kept his gaze solidly on Tom. A muscle ticked in Tom’s jaw and then he reached out and clasped Josh’s hand, a firm grip that transported Josh far into the past, to a time when they had sworn to always be brothers, not cousins. To stand up for each other, not against. Josh had so many regrets. God, he’d made a lot of mistakes. He didn’t quite know how to go about fixing any of them. But as Tom’s fingers tightened around his, he felt, for the first time in years, like he wanted to try.
“Thanks for coming,” he managed, but his voice sounded all strange and choked.
“It’s what family does,” Tom answered roughly. “Sticks together. Though it took Abby kicking my sorry ass to make me see it.”
Josh released Tom’s hand before he embarrassed himself by pulling him into a man-hug. He looked down at Abby. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “For the way I acted at Sarah’s. I was a jerk. No excuses.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I understand, Josh. And I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She could have made it difficult and instead she was being generous. He looked back at Tom. “You’d better hang on to her.”
Tom’s brown eyes glinted with the touch of humor Josh remembered. “She’s too good for me,” Tom answered plainly.
“Shit, we all know that,” Josh replied, and Tom’s answering low chuckle took the tension away.
“Jess?” Meggie’s voice came from a few feet away. “Sarah wants to see you.”
Jess slid away and Abby excused herself to see if she could get anyone coffee, leaving Tom and Josh standing in the middle of the hallway.
“I suppose we should talk,” Tom said. “Seeing as how I don’t think you’re going to punch me again. At least not today.”
“I think the time for that’s past.” Josh looked over his shoulder, watched as Jess went in the hospital room. “I feel so damned sorry for Sarah. She wanted this baby so much.”
“Sarah’s the softest heart in the bunch of us,” Tom admitted. “It doesn’t seem fair.”
A few moments of silence hung in the air until Josh decided he might as well get rid of the elephant in the room. “I know now’s not the time, but I know why Erin did that last tour, Tom. I only had to see her face when someone mentioned your name to know.”
Tom swallowed. “I swear to you, Josh, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“I know that. I did what I could to love her enough, but it was always you. I hated you for it.”
Tom came forward and laid a hand on Josh’s arm. “We never, ever had an affair. Please believe that.”
“Not even when she went to you before her last deployment?”
Josh expected to see guilt on Tom’s face. He wasn’t prepared for the pain.
“You knew.”
“I knew,” Josh confirmed. “She told me she was going to Boston to see some girlfriends. I knew it was a lie. When she got back I checked the history in her GPS.”
Awkward silence fell. Tom cleared his throat. “She came to see me. She wanted us to be together, permanently, said she’d stay Stateside and—”
“And divorce me.” The words were harder to say out loud than he could have imagined.
“What was I supposed to do?” With a sharp exhale, Tom turned away. He ran his hand through his hair. “If I … if we…” He glanced up at Josh. “If we’d slept together, it would have been betraying you and the promise I made myself to not put myself in the middle of your marriage. I couldn’t do it. I’m not proud of how all this shook down but I do have a little bit of self-respect that I try to hold on to. So I said no. And by turning her away…” He stared off into space. “I practically sent her on that last deployment. And she never came back.”
Tom blamed himself? Josh felt like sitting down. He hadn’t seen that one coming.
“I wasn’t enough,” Josh admitted. “I thought if we started a family, a life in Hartford, that she’d forget about you. But she didn’t want that. She made sure there were no babies to tie her to me.” Josh sighed heavily. “I found her birth control pills. She didn’t want me. I wasn’t you, you see.”
More silence as they both absorbed the truth.
Loving Erin had cost them both so much. Perhaps too much.
“Things won’t be the same,” Tom finally said quietly. “I know that. But not beating on each other every time we’re in the same room would be a good start.”
Josh couldn’t help the smile that flickered on his lips. “That’s just because I always win.”
“You wish,” Tom replied, and a bit of the old comfort between them came back.
“So you and Abby,” Josh said, warmer this time. “She’s plucky.”
Tom snorted. “Plucky?”
Josh shrugged. “Well, it’s the first time anyone’s seen you with a woman in … well, never mind. We’ve covered that. But show up in public wearing your sweats? That kind of says it all, don’t you think?”
Tom ran a hand over his face. “Actually, it wasn’t
like that. It’s a long story, too long for today. Anyway, don’t get your hopes up. It’s complicated, and she’s put the house up for sale. I don’t think she’s hanging around for much longer.”
There was the sound of a door opening and closing and the men turned to the double doors that marked the entrance to the ward. Bryce came through and halted as he saw the two of them standing together. A smile spread across his face. “Boys,” he said, coming forward. “Looking for a referee?”
* * *
Abby handed cups of coffee to Meggie, Tom, and Josh. Another of tea waited for Jess in the cardboard cup holder and she sipped at her own beverage, suddenly exhausted. Her legs were starting to pain as the meds wore off, so she sat down in one of the waiting room chairs to give them some relief. Tom was standing with Josh and Bryce and the three of them were talking. Their faces were somber, but not angry. The three of them made quite a picture—Bryce’s and Tom’s muscled, dark features against Josh’s leaner, lighter coloring.
“That’s not a sight I thought I’d see anytime soon,” Meggie said, taking a seat beside Abby.
“They put their differences aside for Sarah.” Abby looked at Tom’s aunt. “How is she?”
Worry clouded Meggie’s eyes. “No mother should ever have to bury her babies.”
“Or see their children suffer,” Abby said quietly.
“Or that. Mine have had their share.”
“Erin’s death and now Sarah.”
Meggie sipped her coffee. “Jess, too. You have them and want to protect them but at some point they have to go out on their own. It’s hard to watch the failures. But wonderful to see the victories.” She nodded at Josh. “That feels like a victory today. And I get the feeling you had a hand in it. Thank you for that.”