All My Heart (The Clover Series)

by Stewart, Danielle

  Instead I’ve managed to fall for a hotheaded handful of a woman and get caught up in the underdog restoration of a town down on its luck. And at the moment, I’m playing princess with a three-year-old who can melt my heart with a simple giggle. Who the hell have I become?

  “Cwick, you have to spin,” Adeline insists as she pushes me playfully in a circle. “Dis is a ball. Dats how you dance.” She’s dressed in a tutu and tiara, things she keeps reminding me Santa brought her for Christmas. She’s told me the story of how he visited her on Christmas Eve so many times I feel like I was practically there myself. I’m holding on to that little story for a reason. Even though Devin bailed without a word before Rebecca and Adeline came back to Clover, if he could pull off such a special surprise for this little girl then there must be something in his heart. No matter how small that something may be.

  “Oh Adeline, leave the poor guy alone. Click has been playing with you for the last two days. That isn’t his job,” Rebecca says as she moves past us with arms full of clean linens. She hasn’t stopped moving since the moment we pulled into the driveway of the house Devin bought.

  “What is your job?” Adeline asks, looking up at me quizzically. I open my mouth to respond, but realize I don’t have an answer. This feels very similar to the moment my oldest nephew asked me how many people I killed over in Iraq. I was finally home. Finally ready for a normal life and with that one simple question I realized I wasn’t normal. I wasn’t ready. Now I feel equally as unprepared to explain to this little child why I’m here. Do I tell her I’m responsible for her safety? If anything happens, it’s my job to protect her, to lay down my life if need be to make sure she is unharmed. I know those words would terrify a child. Judging by Rebecca’s open mouth and searching eyes I can tell she isn’t sure what to say either.

  “I’m not here to play princess,” I say, plucking the tiara from her curly mop of hair. “I’m here to play tag.” I tap her little arm lightly and dart across the large open living room. Rebecca has done wonders with the place, pulling furniture from the garage and attic. Scrubbing, dusting, hanging drapes, and plucking weeds: she has done it all. The house was abandoned, foreclosed upon a couple years ago, and it’s been empty ever since. Looking at it now you’d think she’d lived here for years.

  When I watch her all I can think about is my sister Bianca. Her husband Jonah and I joke all the time that if he wants the house spotless all he needs to do is piss Bianca off. Nothing makes that woman clean like seething anger. She’s been that way since we were kids. My mother used to say an angry Italian woman with idle hands was a dangerous combination. That’s probably what sparked my sister to pick up a mop and take her aggression out on the floor rather than Jonah. Rebecca has that streak in her too. All this work she’s doing, all the cleaning and the organizing, is just a distraction.

  Devin instructed me to find a place that would be located in a safe area, hard to approach without being seen. He’d told me he’d buy it outright and not to worry about price. Much to my surprise he wanted it big, big enough for everyone. This place fit the bill and the bank was happy to sell it. I’ve never had much money, so it came as a shock to me how much you can do in a couple days when you’re loaded.

  Rebecca tickles Adeline on her way by and then moves on to some other part of the housecleaning, trying to make this place into something warm. I give her credit. I was not looking forward to telling her Devin was gone. Dreading it really. I expected a million questions, all of which I could give no answers. But she made it easy. Maybe it was the look on my face or the stutter in my voice, but she let me off the hook. She took the news like a pro, acted as though she understood even when it was clear she didn’t. How could she? One minute Devin was here, waiting anxiously for her and Adeline to return, and the next he was gone. I don’t think disappointment and heartbreak are anything new to her.

  I plod up the old oak stairs and hear Adeline’s little feet pattering behind me. It makes me miss my nieces and nephews and I’m actually glad. It’s a sensation I wasn’t sure I’d experience again.

  I round the corner of the upstairs hallway and head to the first room on the left. It’s a strategic destination. I want to see Jordan. She’s in a constant state of busy since she pitched the recycling plant deal in place of the landfill. I’ve been constantly impressed by her confidence and skill when I sit back and watch her work. I’m in awe of how smart and brave she is. But when I remember her background and how much she’s seen in her life, it’s easy to see where it comes from. Being born in a place like Afghanistan, having a father who spoke out for women’s equality and was killed for it would either break a person or make them as tough as nails. I’m the only person here in Clover who knows her true heritage and background. Everyone else believes she’s Spanish, just as her father had hoped when they changed their name and learned a new language. It was a way for them to stay safe when they arrived in America. I feel like this secret between us connects us.

  I know she’s anxious to prove she can be successful down here. Her company has given her next to no resources and I’m pretty sure they’ve set her up to fail. But she’s not the type of woman who goes down without a fight. I believe she can do this. I haven’t heard her voice on a phone call for a few minutes and I know she must be working on more paperwork between conference calls. I swing the door open and watch her jump at the sound of my feet thudding toward her.

  “What’s wrong?” Jordan asks, her hand covering her heart.

  “I’m being chased; she’s going to get me.” I lunge for the bed Jordan is sitting on and roll to hide behind her playfully. In storms Adeline, squealing and laughing in a way that makes it impossible for Jordan to be annoyed at the interruption. Mission accomplished.

  “Oh no,” Jordan cries out mockingly. “She’s going to get us.” She hops to her feet on the bed and we jokingly attempt to hide behind one another, switching back and forth, the protector and the protected.

  “I’m a scawy monster,” Adeline screams as she raises her little hands above her head and stomps toward us. Over our laughter I catch the flash of a car in the distance. There is almost no traffic on this dirt road so I take note of anything that passes by. Jordan reads the change in my face and scoops Adeline up, spinning her around like a ballerina.

  “It’s Devin,” I say as I watch the car pull down the long driveway. Then I reconsider my statement, since I can’t actually see the driver, just the car. It’s the same one Luke rented last time. “Or maybe it’s Luke. I’ll go down and check, you two stay up here.”

  “I want to see Debin,” Adeline pouts, curling her face into a pathetic scowl.

  “If it’s him, you can see him right when he comes in. But for now, you have to stay here,” Jordan says affectionately, cupping the little girl’s wrinkled chin.

  “Why?”

  “Because, I need your help. You see those papers over there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I need someone to color them for me. It’s very important.”

  “It’s like your work?”

  “Yes, I have too much work to do and I need you to help me or I’ll be up here all day. Do you know how to draw a circle?”

  Adeline’s face glows with pride as an anxious energy returns to her body. “Yes.”

  “Perfect. Well, come on then. You can be my assistant.”

  I wink at Jordan and head quickly down the stairs. I feel inclined to warn Rebecca. I have no indication there’s any impending danger, but still, I feel like she should know Devin might be driving up. She’s shown no sign of anger, no hint of being hurt. It’s not at all what I expected of her in the wake of finding Devin had left suddenly. The problem is I can’t tell if it’s an act. Is she a hurt woman acting strong? And if Luke steps out of that car alone, will it be her breaking point?

  I’m too late to catch her though, she’s already looking out the lace curtains she hung over the large bay window this morning. Her hand is resting on her hip, a dust rag t
ossed over her shoulder, her lip sucked in and clamped between her teeth. If I wasn’t sure before, it’s clear now, she’s worried. She’s wanting him to be in this car. She’s praying he came back.

  “You think it’s both of them?” she asks, not taking her eyes off the approaching car.

  “Not sure. I haven’t heard anything from him.”

  “I know, me either, but if you were a betting man?”

  “I’d bet he’s back.”

  “Why?”

  “He has a lot to come back for.” Rebecca doesn’t know the book that held the answers about Brent’s death made mention of her. She doesn’t know that knowledge brought Devin to the edge. She doesn’t understand the mission he came here on and how something like that could destroy him. She just knows he left. She knows she pulled into Nick’s driveway and expected Devin to be just where she left him, feeling just as hopeful as he had before she’d gone to retrieve Adeline.

  I join her at the window and stare out. I’m not sure of the moment I got so emotionally invested in all of this, but I’m in too deep to turn back now. I want Devin to be back, I want it for Rebecca, for Clover, for Devin. Part of me is glad to be this caught up. I feel like I’ve been turned off, powered down for so long. When you can’t have any of this in your life, you reprogram yourself not to see it, not to need it. You can’t make too much room for humanity and empathy because you see it being stomped on and destroyed all around you. If you put too much value in it, only to watch it fall apart, you start to feel defeated. The fact that these sensations are returning to me is reassuring.

  Chapter Three

  Rebecca

  That son of a bitch. That’s all I could think when I walked back into Nick’s house, a sleeping Adeline in my arms, only to find out Devin had left. What the hell had happened? One minute he’s anxiously waiting for us to get back, the next he’s gone. I bit my tongue to hide the crazy I was feeling from everyone in that room. I didn’t have my mama long in my life, but she taught me how to act like a lady even when you’re fighting mad.

  I’m glad I did. Even though it took me time to cool down, I eventually had some clarity about it all. Click told me Devin instructed him to buy a house. A man like Devin, a man with money, could get things done quickly. And soon Click was giving me the details. Under Devin’s direction he purchased a house big enough for everyone, just like I asked. That meant something. I don’t know why he left so quickly, why he’s been silent for days, or if he is coming back. I asked myself over and over again: Had I done something? Had something spooked him? Would he come back? But the house is something to hold onto for now. So I put my energy into it. There were already beds enough for everyone so I got fresh linens from Mrs. Trivet. She set me up with curtains and tablecloths, pretty much anything you can imagine. I haven’t been shopping anywhere but the thrift store in years, so having the money Devin left with Click for the house was a nice treat. I bought dishes, some throw rugs, everything we needed for all three, yes three, of the bathrooms. This place is a mansion. It’s older, but the space is a running child’s dream, and the light that streams in the large windows is a painter’s heaven. I don’t know if I’ll ever hold a brush in this place, but at night I dream of a happy life here with Devin and Adeline while I do what I love.

  I’ve put out every worry about where Devin is, or when he’ll be back and I’ve sunk every ounce of energy into making this place a home. I can’t control everything, but this I can manage. So I got to it.

  Now I’m standing in front of this window staring at a car that may or may not be holding Devin, and I’m hoping my gut was right.

  As the car pulls up I can see Click standing next to me, holding his breath. Poor kid. What a number we’ve done on him. Jordan has stolen the boy’s heart. Adeline takes up all his time asking questions and begging him to play. And Devin’s sudden departure has probably left him wondering what the hell he signed up for.

  As the two doors swing open I see Devin step out of the driver’s side, and I let out an audible sigh of relief. I see Click nodding his head and the corners of his mouth are fighting a smile. I’m grinning from ear to ear. I did bet on this and my number just got picked.

  “Adeline is anxious to see him,” Click says, gesturing at the stairs, wondering if he should bring her down.

  “If she’ll stay up there a little longer I’d like to talk to Devin for a bit.”

  “I’m sure she’d love to give Luke a tour of his room,” Click says, nodding obediently. I don’t really understand this boy. I haven’t known many soldiers in my life, but Click makes me wish I knew more. He’s this odd mix of respectful and kind. His mama must be so proud of him, but he doesn’t talk about his family. We both head for the door and he swings it open for me. My hair is still in a messy bun, and my clothes are covered with bleach stains and dust. I try to brush off the bulk of it and sweep my bangs out of my eyes. It’s too late to do much else and I’m cursing myself for staring out the window rather than running upstairs to change.

  Devin is standing in front of the car looking at me like he’s waiting for a thrashing. His eyes are locked on my face, clearly trying to read my expression, trying to determine what he should brace himself for. Luke, on the other hand, looks terrified. He’s busying himself in the trunk, pulling out bags and fiddling with things, obviously trying to let this moment happen without him in it.

  “Luke,” I say, smiling at him, “Adeline is waiting to show you your room. She thinks it’s real funny there are baby animals all over your wall. I hope you like pastel colors. I think you are in the old owners’ little boy’s room.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Luke chuckles, catching the hint and following Click back into the house.

  “Thanks for getting rid of him before you say what you have to say,” Devin begins, testing the water.

  “He was looking like he needed an exit strategy.”

  Devin lets out a gravelly laugh and goose bumps rise up over my arms and back. Just a small primal sound from him has my body on edge. I walk down the front steps . . . the steps I pulled the weeds out of, swept the dirt from. The steps I prayed we’d be standing on together someday soon. The closer I get, the stiffer his body becomes. I’ve slapped him once before, an act that shocked even me at the time, and it looks like he’s readying himself for that again.

  “You look scared,” I say, keeping my tone flat.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I know I left in a hurry and . . .” I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

  “I thought you hate to apologize, Devin. Wasn’t that part of your credo or something? It’s how you became so successful and made all your money.”

  “And you pointed out to me it’s also why I had no friends, nothing of any substance in my life.”

  “Devin, I wish you would have been here when I got back.”

  He steps toward me but stops short of touching me. “I know. I can’t imagine what you must have been thinking.”

  “I’m not finished.” My hands come up to my hips, and I perch them there the way I do when Adeline is talking back to me. I think back to something I’ve been rolling around in my head for the last two days. Something my mother told me many years ago before my father became the tragically mean bastard he is today. I remember my parents being relatively happy together. They had their moments of dancing around the kitchen to their favorite song on the radio. Before the mill closed and we had a bit of money, they’d go out to dinner once in a while. There was one night my daddy forgot their wedding anniversary, a big one I think, maybe fifteen years. He stayed at work late and then grabbed some beers with his buddies. He came home empty-handed and a little drunk. I sat up with my mama and asked her what she was going to do to him the next morning. Was she going to cuss him out or have him do all the chores? I asked her how long she would be mad.

  She told me the most powerful thing a woman could do for her husband is be forgiving when he most expects you to be furious. When you are totally justified in your anger,
when he’s really screwed up, you have a powerful option. If you can truly find some peace with it, and I believe her words were, let it slide, you will see something amazing happen to that man, to your relationship. The next morning I watched my daddy slink toward the kitchen, looking a lot like Devin does right now. I saw my mama lay his breakfast in front of him and kiss his cheek just like she did every morning. “Yesterday was our anniversary,” she said, sliding a card across the table toward him. The blood drained from my daddy’s face as he searched for the right words, an apology big enough for his mistake. “I . . . I . . . I’m—” My mama’s face broke into a smile, “Don’t tell me you fell and hit your head last night, you got a stutter now? Don’t worry about it, dear, we’ll have a whole lifetime of anniversaries.” She patted his hand and winked at me as I watched my father take it all in. She was letting this one slide. And she was right, because in that moment, I got to see a change in my daddy’s face. I got to see his love for my mama come right out of him, grow a little. She could have nagged him, punished him, held back on all the things she’d always done for him. She could have insisted on an apology and a gift. And I’m sure he’d have obliged. Instead she realized he’d made a mistake. She acknowledged his flaws. She didn’t put the misstep ahead of all the good they had. And right now I’m trying to remember that lesson.

  “Devin.” I step the rest of the way toward him and put my hand on his face. He flinches a little, probably still expecting the slap. “I think being with you is going to take a lot of faith and a lot of patience. I don’t know why you keep running. But you keep coming back. That’s what I’m holding on to. You’ve had it tough, Devin. We both have. I’m still here. That’s enough right now.” I pull his stunned face down toward mine and kiss him passionately. His hesitation is laughable. He’s almost too shocked to kiss me back. His pause is finally broken when my tongue parts his lips, and finally I feel his dancing with mine. His arms encompass my waist and squeeze me so tightly I groan. It’s a good tight, a grateful, happy embrace that needs no more words.