by Melissa Tagg
Logan stopped at a red light—superfluous considering not one other vehicle was on the road. “I always wondered why you quit painting in the first place. I thought it might have something to do with Mom, but I wasn’t around much back then. I feel bad about that sometimes.”
“You were living your life.” She reached into the cup holder for the travel mug she’d filled before leaving Dad’s earlier. “You were pressing through your pain. I’ve always admired that about you.” And she didn’t tell him nearly enough. First he’d had to face Mom’s death, then just two short years later, his wife Emma’s.
But somehow Logan had carried on. He’d walked out his grief, and had eventually continued to pursue his passions, had even fallen in love again.
He might’ve gone numb for a season, but he hadn’t stayed there. Not like Raegan.
“I think I quit painting because . . .” The light turned green, but Logan didn’t press the gas. He only waited as she fumbled for words. “It made me feel too much. After Mom . . . didn’t matter if they were good feelings or bad feelings, I didn’t want any of them.” Too much of either one and the panic set in.
Not just the physical panic, the emotional panic. The suffocating sense that nothing could ever be okay again. Even joy—the kind she so often felt when she painted—ushered in dread. She’d start on a high, but eventually sink to a low, certain something would creep in to steal her happiness . . .
Like death had stolen her mother.
And loss had stolen her security.
And grief, no matter how much she attempted to evade it, had stolen her peace.
“Perfect love casts out fear.” Her words to Bear echoed. An easy little line to recite, but how did a person truly grasp that perfect love?
“How did you do it, Logan? First Mom and then Emma.”
“If you think I handled any of that well . . .” He shook his head, still idling at the stoplight. “I became a workaholic. I was basically an absentee father for a couple years. Even kind of lost my faith there for a while. I lived in a fog for years, Rae.”
“But you found a way out. And it didn’t take you a decade. Not like me.”
He shifted in his seat to face her, the compassion in his gaze almost too much for her. Hadn’t she cried enough these past weeks? She squeezed her eyes closed before any more tears could break free.
“Everything changed when I realized I couldn’t hide anymore,” he said softly. “When I came home last year, I couldn’t fake it around Dad. When I got away from LA, I couldn’t hide in my work anymore. When I met Amelia, I couldn’t wear the mask, not with her.”
Raegan opened her eyes. The stoplight had gone from green to red again. “I’ve been pretending for a long time.” Pretending to be fine. Pretending to be content. Pretending there weren’t rivers of deep desire coursing through her—rivers she’d been too afraid to journey.
“Well, here’s the wonderful and unnerving thing about pretending, Rae. You can pretend all you want around people and you can do a good job of fooling them, even those you’re closest to. But you can’t fool God.” When the stoplight flickered again, he finally pressed the gas. “And if there’s anything I’ve learned in the past couple years, it’s that He’ll seek you out. As often as it takes. Not so that He can rip off your mask . . . but so that you can learn to see Him and love Him and trust Him, enough that eventually you’ll choose to take off your own mask.”
He steered the car toward the riverfront, the conviction in his voice settling around her like an embrace. And this time when she closed her eyes, it wasn’t to hold her tears at bay, but to hold this moment close.
Bear had seen more of her than anyone—but it hadn’t really been her choice. Not in the beginning when he’d witnessed that panic attack. And Sara—she’d provided an emotional triage and would continue to be a support system, Raegan knew. Thankfully, too, Raegan was on a slow road to revealing her heart, her secrets, to her family.
But maybe the person she most needed to get honest with was the One who’d seen through her pretense all along. The One waiting at the end of her pain and the beginning of her desires.
I haven’t just been hiding from life, God. I’ve been hiding from You.
Perhaps grasping His perfect love started with simply opening up.
“Well, you wondered where everyone in Maple Valley is.” Logan’s voice tugged her back to the present. “I think we have our answer.”
Her eyes snapped open. Logan had turned the car onto the road hugged by the river on one side and the string of waterfront businesses on the other. There at the end, the Hay & Feed building . . . and a crowd. An even bigger crowd than the day the scaffolding went up. “What in the world?”
She saw Dad with Charlie on his shoulders and Amelia at his side. Seth and Ava with Jamie and Erin between them. Kate and Colton. Meg from Coffee Coffee. Jenessa from the newspaper. There was Elise Linder holding her mom’s hand and Mr. Hill, of course. Even Sunny from the hardware store, who she’d just seen minutes ago, had beat them here.
And draped across the scaffolding railing, a banner: Good luck, Raegan!
Logan slowed the vehicle as they neared the gathering. “I guess the word spread about you starting the mural for real today.”
Not a speck of surprise in his voice. She stuffed her travel mug back in the cup holder between them. “You knew. You knew, and that’s why you came home.”
He only grinned as he scouted for a parking spot. The thought of climbing the scaffolding, dipping a chip brush into a paint bucket, making that first stroke while everyone watched, it was enough to turn her palms clammy.
And Bear . . . Bear wasn’t here. Was probably still sitting across from the police chief and that detective from Atlanta.
Despite it all, her heart trilled. Lean into it. It came from her soul, a divine whisper. It’s okay to feel this joy. When you’re nervous, when so much is up in the air—especially then—it’s good and right and okay to do the thing you were made for. It’s how you’ll find Me.
The truth enveloped her. A creative God had blessed her with a creative spirit not to impress art critics or get her into college or even birth a career . . . but to connect with her.
And she’d missed out for too long.
Logan parked at the curb and cut the engine. “They’re all here because they love you, Raegan, and they want to support you. But at the end of the day, it’s just you and God and the gift He gave you. Let yourself enjoy it.”
How did he do it? Read her so well? Know exactly what she needed to hear? “When did you get so discerning, big brother?”
“I think it comes with the territory, being the firstborn and all. Now let’s get all that paint unloaded.”
He opened his car door, and the cheers of the crowd rushed in.
15
Three days.
It’d been three days since Bear had, for all intents and purposes, been hauled into the police department. Since he’d sat in a metal folding chair opposite Sam and Detective Rollins, facing a blitz of questions.
Every one of which placed him in the role of the accused. No matter what Sam said.
Bear pulled onto the gravel lane that led to the Walkers’ house. After four hours of work at the ranch, sweat and grime covered every inch of him. Both his knees and his back ached after two days in a row of climbing over roofing tile, patching holes, and the sun had scorched the back of his neck.
But he’d take on a world of physical pain if it meant the loosening of his vise-grip-like angst. Seventy-two hours later and the weariness of that morning in the police station still hadn’t worn off. Nor the humiliation. He’d done his best to put up a good front around the Walkers—even Raegan. Didn’t stop the pulsing frustration or the implacable replays.
“Let me get this straight: You show up on your brother and sister-in-law’s doorstep after not seeing them for years, and less than an hour later, you take off with the kids?”
Yes, it sounded crazy, but it would’ve b
een crazier to leave Jamie and Erin behind, given Rosa’s dire predictions.
“Rosa hasn’t called in how long? You’ve got her kids. How long are you going to wait this out?”
Why did they think Bear had gone to the police in the first place? He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how long to wait.
“You said you weren’t going to return Jamie and Erin?”
He’d been angry. Of course he didn’t mean it. He’d only meant—
Rollins didn’t let him finish. “You show up in Atlanta in the same timeframe as your brother goes missing. You whisk your niece and nephew off to another state. Your sister-in-law subsequently goes incommunicado. Aren’t you a bit worried about how this all looks?”
“No!” He’d nearly snarled the word. “I’m worried about Jamie and Erin’s wellbeing and confused about Rio and Rosa’s whereabouts and light years past baffled about why in the blazes you’re wasting time questioning me.”
Rollins had returned to the kicker, the same question he’d asked a dozen times in a dozen different ways. “And you seriously haven’t talked to your brother—not once—since you left Atlanta six or seven years ago?”
Three days later and Bear still didn’t know if Rollins had believed a single one of his denials. He also didn’t know anything new, for that matter.
Other than at least Jamie and Erin seemed fine. More than fine, really. Erin had bonded with Logan’s daughter and Jamie constantly, happily, had his nose in a book. He’d asked to call Rosa last night but hadn’t seemed upset when, again, she didn’t answer.
He needed to take a cue from the kids. Get comfortable waiting. But that had never been his strong suit.
A rap on his car door window startled Bear from his mental unease. He didn’t even remember parking in the driveway, cutting the engine. Beckett peered in the window, basketball under one arm, the other motioning for Bear to get out. Up ahead, Logan and Seth stood waiting underneath the hoop.
Bear released his sigh before lumbering from the car. One too many Walkers had seen him reach for Raegan’s hand in recent days. Logan had been waiting in Raegan’s room when they climbed in her window the other day, and Beckett had walked in on Bear kissing her goodnight last night. Barely a peck, perfectly tame, but still.
He gave the car door a tap with his heel and faced Raegan’s brothers and cousin. He’d known this was coming, of course. Frankly, he was surprised it’d taken as long as it had.
Maybe he could still get out of it. “Hey, guys. Uh, thanks for keeping an eye on Jamie and Erin. Are they—”
Beckett bounced the basketball. “Inside with Ava and Amelia. Making cookies.”
“Good, in that case—”
Another bounce. “Raegan’s in town working on the mural.”
Her usual spot these days. She was loving it—and he was loving watching her love it, even if it meant his time with her was limited. If not for Jamie and Erin, he would’ve headed into town straight from the ranch, grime and all.
“In that case, you might as well begin the interrogation.”
But Beckett only shrugged innocently. “Who said anything about an interrogation?” He tossed the basketball at Bear. It smacked into his hands. “I, for one, merely want to play. We need a fourth. You have good timing.”
“But if you just happen to dole out a few brotherly warnings in between possessions, I shouldn’t think anything of it, right?” Bear followed him to the others.
“No warnings. But I might have a few questions.” Beckett stopped at the edge of the driveway. “And I’m sure Logan and Seth do too.”
The two men glanced at each other. “Actually, I don’t,” Seth said, turning to Bear. “I’m just relieved you’ve finally got your romantic act together, man.”
Beckett frowned and looked to Logan. Logan only shrugged. “Sorry, Beck. I happen to think Bear’s an okay guy.”
Okay guy. He’d take it. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” Logan took the basketball from Bear’s hands and turned to the basket. He attempted a jump shot that bounced off the backboard.
Beckett grimaced. “I am the only one in this family who has any business playing sports.”
Logan exchanged glances with Bear. “Unfortunately true.”
“Hey, I’m offended. Your siblings might be athletically impaired. Your cousin isn’t.” Seth rounded to the front of the group. “And also, I think I just lied. Because I do have a question for you, Bear. I can’t believe I haven’t asked you before now. What’s up with your name? Bear?”
“Not exactly the kind of question I was going for,” Beckett muttered, dribbling the basketball.
Bear held out his palms face up. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t pick it.”
“Yeah, but surely there’s a story behind it. It’s not exactly commonplace.”
Oh, there was a story, all right. Bear just generally didn’t enjoy telling it. But maybe he could win points with Beckett by doing so. He looked as interested in Seth’s question as Seth did.
“So apparently when I was born, I came out squawking. A nurse hands me to my dad. He smiles at me. I stop crying. Same thing happens later that day—I cry, Dad smiles, I calm.” He clamped one hand over his opposite arm, mechanically squeezing the bicep his tattoo encircled. His name was a reminder there’d been a day when his father was interested in him. “One of the nurses makes a joke about my dad being like Davy Crockett—that legend about Davy Crockett being able to smile down a bear. And suddenly I’ve got a name.”
Seth grinned. “Sweet.”
Logan rubbed his chin. “Does Raegan know that story? I’m pretty sure she’d enjoy it.”
“Are you kidding? She pried it from me, like, the second day she met me.” They’d been strolling through the town square, and she’d gone on and on about the cuteness of it all while he just walked beside her, wondering if his mom or dad ever thought about that story now. Ever thought about him.
“So are we going to play or what?” Beckett dribbled the ball again. “I call Bear on my team.”
Bear grinned but figured it was wise to hold back a reply. That was a truce if he’d ever heard one.
Logan shot Seth an apologetic look. “Sorry. They’ve got the athletic Walker and the giant. They’re going to win.”
Beckett whipped the ball to his brother. “We’ll give you first possession, at least.” He turned to Bear. “Maybe we should go easy on them.”
He heard Seth’s scoff and Logan’s chuckle but addressed Beckett. “She means the world to me, Beck. I know I haven’t been forthright about everything, but—”
“It’s not me you need to be forthright with. Take it from someone who in the very recent past fell for a woman right when he was in the midst of grappling with his past and trying to figure out his future at the same time—it’s not fair to string her along while you try to fit her into the puzzle that is your life. She’s not just another piece.”
“I know that.” It was why he still hadn’t responded to John’s email. And he wanted to be forthright with Raegan. He needed to tell her the rest. He needed to tell her about Annie.
Maybe after this game, after cleaning up, after spending some time with Jamie and Erin, he could head into town. Pull her away from her painting for a bit. And they could just talk.
That is, if he could keep himself from kissing her senseless. He hadn’t had nearly enough chances for that lately. He liked the Walkers, but there were just so many of them around these days.
Nope. No kissing until we talk.
Beckett groaned. “I really don’t wanna know what that smile means.”
Bear laughed as Beckett turned to guard Seth where he stood behind the crack in the driveway they always used as the boundary line. The next half an hour passed in a rumbling blur of enjoyment—the clatter of the backboard, the smack of the ball against the cement, panting breath and expended energy.
Only when Logan’s wife appeared on the front porch, tempting them with cookies, did they abandon the game�
��Bear and Beckett so far ahead they’d eventually quit keeping score.
Beckett slapped Bear’s back as he walked past him, and Bear caught Logan’s eye. The older brother gave him a nod of approval. Seth came up beside him. “Think you just won more than that game, McKinley.”
Bear grinned as he reached for his car keys and phone where he’d set them in the grass. The phone’s display alerted him to a voicemail. Hmm, he didn’t recognize the number. Rosa calling from a different phone? Or Rio . . .
He glanced at Seth. “Is it even fair to her? To Raegan? I feel like I’m inviting her into a mess.”
“Man, you haven’t invited her anywhere she didn’t already want to go.”
“Yeah, but to start dating when everything’s so uncertain . . .” Never mind the fact that dating didn’t feel nearly strong enough a word for the change in their relationship.
Seth plodded up the porch, reaching down to knead the muscle in his leg. “Sure, maybe it’d be easier to start out if you were both in this perfect, idyllic place in your lives. But part of being a couple is getting through the hard stuff. You’ve got a good testing ground, if nothing else.” He pulled open the front door. “Come on, let’s go sample cookies. We’ve earned it.”
Bear followed his friend inside but stopped in the entryway to listen to his voicemail. Maybe this would be the miracle call he’d been waiting for. Maybe Rio had come home and Rosa had found a new place to live and . . .
But the voice on the other end wasn’t Rosa’s and it wasn’t Rio’s and it wasn’t anything close to warm. “Hi. This is Marilyn Beach with the Georgia Division of Children and Family Services. I need to talk to you about the whereabouts of Jamie and Erin McKinley.”
Bear’s stomach clenched.
He’d known Raegan would come as soon as she heard. Didn’t know who’d told her. Didn’t know how much they’d said.