by Jenna Mindel
“Your father’s on his way.” Mother clung to daughter. “Your sister, too. She wants to drive with you to Seattle, and I won’t let you refuse.”
Bree nodded.
Darren shifted his stance. He was glad Bree wouldn’t be alone on that long trek. Very glad. But it was time to go. Time to let her go, too. He stepped back.
Joan glanced at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. She extended her hand. “Thank you, Darren. Thank you for bringing her home safe and sound.”
Darren cleared his throat as he gripped her hand, shocked when she pulled him toward their embrace. He gave both women a brief hug. “Your daughter never lost her cool, and that made a huge difference.”
“I knew you’d find me,” Bree added.
“Darren, please come in.” Joan kept her arm around Bree’s shoulders.
“I’ve got to go. This truck belongs to another CO.” He didn’t belong here. He couldn’t rehash this afternoon with two women in tears. Besides, he and Bree had said everything that needed saying. The longer he hung around, the harder it would be not to beg. He wanted Bree to stay but understood why she couldn’t.
Joan nodded. “Come this weekend, then. The whole family will be here to give Bree a proper send-off.”
Bree looked at him but didn’t press.
“I’ll think about it.” Darren’s skin itched thinking about it. This was Bree’s world, not his.
“We’d be honored.” Joan gave him an encouraging smile that softened her face, erasing the pinched look he’d often seen before. That disapproving look was gone, too.
“Mom, go on inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Bree practically pushed her mother into the house before turning back to him.
He backed up, taking a step down off the porch. It brought him eye to eye with Bree. He wanted to touch her but kept his hands at his sides.
“Thank you,” Bree whispered. Her pretty eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. “For everything.”
His throat felt tight. “You’re welcome.”
She cupped his face and kissed him hard.
He kissed her back, clenching his hands into fists to keep from drawing her too close. Too close to ever let go. Darren had to let her go. This was goodbye.
Bree pulled back and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Text me? I want to know how you do with that promotion.”
“Okay, sure.” He backed down another step.
Bree gave him a watery smile and then went inside.
Through the windows, he saw Joan wrap her into another hug. Darren walked away with a heavy heart.
Two years was a long time. Too long.
* * *
Memorial Day, Darren found himself paired with his father in a game of horseshoes. A family tradition, but Darren’s head wasn’t in the game. Neither was his heart. He’d received a text from Bree that morning. She and her sister had made it to Seattle. She was settling into the dorm-like studio apartment that came with her residency and already loved the area.
She might as well have tied him to a block of cement and thrown him overboard. The tone of that text made it pretty clear that Bree wasn’t coming back. He’d known from the start that she’d leave. So why’d he allow his feelings to grow into something that felt a lot like love? It sure stung like love.
Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
He’d heard that as part of the message the previous morning. He’d attended the church where his brothers Zach and Matthew went. A community church with little of the traditional pomp he was used to. He’d listened, though. Listened hard.
God, what are You trying to tell me?
His father slapped him on the back. “Your turn.”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Darren took the shoe and threw. It clanged against the cast-iron pin and then took a roll off to the side, landing in deep grass outside the lane of play.
“That’s a horrible throw,” Monica jeered.
Darren shrugged.
“Okay, who died?” Monica asked.
Cam pushed at her shoulder. “Give it a rest.”
Monica pushed him back. “Give what a rest? I’m just asking.”
Darren held the other shoe. “You two done?”
“If you don’t land a ringer, you and Dad lose,” Monica said. “And that’ll make me and Erin the winners.”
“Under duress. Darren’s not in usual form,” Cam said.
Monica grinned. “Still counts.”
“Yeah, still counts.” Erin looked at him with concern in her eyes. Big brown puppy eyes, he used to tease her. “You okay?”
Darren paused from throwing. “I’ll live.”
Erin shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem really sad.”
He chuckled. “I’ll get over it.”
“But will you get over her?” Cam asked.
That was the question. One he’d asked himself about a hundred times since dropping Bree off at her parents’ cottage less than a week ago. His whole family knew Bree had left. They knew about her scare with Philip, too. The abduction had hit the local news. It was no wonder Bree had skipped out early, missing her family picnic.
Maybe they hadn’t had one. He’d talked to Stella, and she hadn’t said anything about the Andersons having a get-together. Maybe he’d swing by and check on her later in the week. Darren prepared to throw but his sister’s voice intruded, knocking off his concentration once again.
“How’s that poem go?” Erin mumbled a few lines. “Wait, I got it. If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it’s yours forever. If it doesn’t, then it was never meant to be.”
Cam groaned.
Darren did, too. “That’s corny.”
Erin smiled. “Don’t you think she’ll come back, even for a visit?”
Bree’s family summered here. That didn’t mean she’d want to come back for him. She’d texted him, though, and he hadn’t yet replied.
“Your turn, son,” his father reminded him.
Darren stalled as that simple command echoed through his soul. Maybe it was his turn to prove he was worthy to be loved. He needed to let go of past hurts and failures and be the man he needed to be. Supporting Bree, instead of trying to change her mind. Her dreams. He needed to text her back. Go visit her, even.
Their father shook his head. “Will you throw that shoe so we can go eat?”
Darren launched the cast-iron horseshoe. It arced high and landed with a metal-whirling-around-metal sound. Everyone hooted and hollered, but not Monica or Erin. They both groaned when he scored the win with a ringer.
Darren turned to his baby sister. “Looks like the win was never yours to keep.”
“Ha, ha.” Erin rolled her eyes.
As they made their way to the house, Darren turned that hokey little poem over in his head. He’d let Bree go, alright. But then, she needed to fly on her own before she’d ever be happy being his.
His grandmother had called dating “courtship.” He’d had only a temporary courtship with Bree. Neither were ready for anything permanent. At least not yet. Both of them had work to do.
The scripture he’d heard rolled through his thoughts once again. Maybe it was time to trust that God would bring them together when the timing was right.
Chapter Fourteen
A month later
Darren entered the courtroom for Philip’s preliminary examination. The idiot had stuck with his not guilty plea, so here they were, wasting time figuring out if this would go to trial. Darren hoped to spare Bree and her mom from that. He was an eyewitness for the prosecution. Surely his testimony would be enough for probable cause and seal the false imprisonment charges. If the defense was smart, they’d settle for a plea bargain.
Stepping t
oward the front, Darren spotted long mink-colored hair and froze. Bree was here. He hadn’t expected to see her at this stage of the game. She hadn’t said anything about it, but then they hadn’t spoken or even texted in the last couple of weeks. Finally losing touch after only a month apart.
Darren had been promoted into the supervisor position he’d applied for. His boss had said that he’d received several recommendations from folks in Bay Willows. Darren finally had everything he’d wanted, but one thing remained out of touch. Across country.
He slipped quietly into the bench seat behind her and her family. The wood creaked when he sat down, announcing his presence.
Joan turned and gave him a warm smile.
He nodded.
His cell phone vibrated with an incoming text. It came from Bree.
Talk later?
His heart lodged somewhere in his throat. He texted back.
Sure.
The hearing started, and sure enough, Bree was called to testify right after the arresting officer. Taking the stand, she didn’t look at him. Darren wished that she would, for moral support at the very least, but not once did her gaze connect with his.
He couldn’t look away. She seemed more confident than he remembered. She answered the questions with poise but not indifference. Recalling the events affected her, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t waver, either, staring Philip down until he looked away. That sent a message of its own. One Darren hoped hadn’t escaped the eyes of the judge.
When the defense attorney cross-examined Bree, Darren gripped the edge of his seat until he thought his fingers might break. The urge to rip Philip and his fancy attorney apart surged hot through his veins, but Darren stayed quiet.
When Bree finally stepped down, she held her head high but still didn’t look his way. Incredible since he sat right behind her. She avoided him but wanted to talk later. What did that mean?
His gut clenched. Had she found someone else?
He ran a hand through his hair. Feeling fidgety, Darren wiped his palms against his thighs, waiting for Philip to take the stand, but both attorneys approached the judge instead.
The three spoke too softly to hear, but Darren knew Philip was doomed. That guy couldn’t defend himself, not against what Bree had told the court. The golden boy was guilty and rightfully tarnished.
Silence settled over the too warm courtroom, and Darren shifted. His empty gun holster tapped against the back of the bench with a resounding thwack that seemed to echo through the chamber.
Philip turned and glared at him.
Darren stared back.
The guy didn’t look sorry. If anything, Philip seemed even more arrogant, finally looking away when his attorney returned to his side.
And then it was over. The defense accepted a misdemeanor plea. The judge sentenced Philip to twelve months of probation, anger management classes, a fine and orders to stay away from Bree. No contact whatsoever. No jail time, either, but considering this was Philip’s first offense, Darren hadn’t expected more.
While Bree and her family shook the prosecutor’s hand, Darren made for the doors. He’d wait for them in the hallway.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Darren, how are you?” Bree’s mom was the first to greet him with a warm hug. “This is my husband, Ron. Bree’s father.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Anderson. Mr. Anderson.” Darren offered his hand to Bree’s father. “And how are you both?”
“Glad this is over. Why don’t you come by the cottage later for dinner?”
Darren glanced at Bree.
“Please say you’ll come?” Her smile flashed those dimples he’d missed.
He missed her, and without even thinking, he agreed. “Okay, sure.”
“We’ll see you at home,” Joan said with a wave.
Bree’s parents left, and she looked a little nervous. “There goes my ride.”
Darren chuckled. They were the next town over. A little far for Bree to walk home. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” Her dimples flashed deeper as she took in his sergeant badge. “How’s your new job?”
“Good. I got several recommendations after that day. One from your mom. Did you know that?”
“Yes. She thinks you’re very sharp.” She looked up into his eyes. “Can we walk?”
Darren hesitated. Would this be good or bad?
Bree looked worried. “I mean, if you have time. You’re on duty.”
“I have time.” He’d make time. All the time he could with her.
He held open the door for her, and they walked outside into the warm sunshine of late June. The sidewalks swarmed with tourists. With the Fourth of July falling on the upcoming weekend, this week and next would be the busiest of the season with the arrival of so many vacationers. He’d already had an active few days working with his COs on the bay, making sure boaters stayed sober and safe.
“You look impressive in that tie, by the way. Do you have to wear one now?”
“No. It’s my dress uniform. I’m supposed to wear it every time I go to court. I’m surprised I wasn’t asked to testify.”
Bree glanced at him, and her golden eyes reflected the sun. “I didn’t want you to. Not if it wasn’t needed. That’s why I’m here instead of a written statement. I didn’t want this to go to trial.”
He stopped walking and faced her. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Bree groaned. “I wanted to. But I was asked not to talk about the case. I knew if I called—texted, even—you might call back, and then I’d tell you everything. I was so scared that our relationship might get dragged into all this and hurt your new position. I didn’t want your reputation questioned because you got involved with me while on duty.”
He looped the ends of her hair around his fingers. “You didn’t have to protect me. We’ve got nothing to hide or be sorry for. As my grandmother used to say, we were only courting.”
“Is that so?” Bree laughed and ran her finger down the length of his tie. “And now what are we doing?”
He stilled her hand by covering it with his own. “That’s up to you.”
She looked up. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, more than I thought possible.” He pulled her to him.
“Oh, Darren, what are we going to do?”
Holding her close, he buried his face in her hair. She smelled like wildflowers and sunshine. A scent he couldn’t seem to forget. He brushed his lips against her neck and smiled when he felt her tremble. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m here for the week.”
He kissed her hard and quick. One week. Enough time and not nearly enough time to work toward making that temporary courtship more permanent.
Chapter Fifteen
A year later
Are you at home?
Bree texted Darren and waited. He knew she was flying in for the Fourth of July. It was her vacation, and she’d planned to come home.
Home.
Ever since she’d left for Seattle, Bree had considered Maple Springs home. It’s where Darren was, and he’d become her safe place—the place where she felt the most like herself. He’d helped her become the person she longed to be. Confident and maybe even a little fearless.
Darren’s presence in court had given her courage. She hadn’t looked at him for fear he’d see right through her brave facade. Despite her attempt to protect both families from a trial, the Johnsons had severed their relationship with her parents that day, right before Philip’s preliminary exam had started. They blamed her for everything. In the past, such an incident would have made her crumble, but she stood firm and faced them all. And justice was served.
Darren was what she wanted, and now—
She grinned and texted again.
Her phone whistled with an incoming message. Finally.
Give a guy a chance to respond. I’m home. Where are you?
On my way.
Bree pocketed her phone and pulled out of her parents’ driveway in her mom’s car. She could hardly wait to share her news. Big news, too. She hadn’t seen Darren since he visited her in March. He’d come out to see her at Christmastime, too, since the symphony schedule over the holidays was crammed with concerts and she couldn’t get away.
She’d had the best Christmas ever. Spent with Darren. They’d picked out a tree together and decorated it with strung cranberries and popcorn. During the in-betweens, they’d video-chatted and burned up each other’s cell phone batteries. She hadn’t been home since last summer. And it felt like coming home to the place she belonged. For good.
Once out of town, Bree pressed the gas pedal, eager to tell Darren so many things.
* * *
Darren looked at his two beagles sharing a big dog bed. They’d watched him buzz around his house, making sure everything was picked up and clean.
Mickey thumped his tail.
“You’ll be happy to know that Bree is coming over.” He’d expected her to call from the airport so he could pick her up. Evidently her parents had done that. And that was okay, he supposed.
He looked forward to telling her his news. It was big news, especially for him. He heard a knock on his door and his dogs ran toward it, barking. Pulse pounding, he followed.
Bree stood on the porch. She’d cut her rich brown hair; it hung loose and tempting at her shoulders. She’d let her bangs grow out, too, and with them pushed to the side, she looked prettier than ever. Especially wearing a sundress that hugged her slender form.
Mickey and Clara yipped with excitement.
He stared. “Wow, you look great.”
“You, too.” She smiled, flashing those dimples he loved. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He laughed and backed up. “Sorry.”
His dogs whined and begged for attention at her sandal-clad feet. They’d missed her, too.
Bree gave them each pats.