“Figures,” he grumbled. “Another person trying to capitalize on Red Meadows.”
He deposited her firmly on the ground and started to walk back to his truck but she refused to let him go. She jumped in front of him, blocking his door. “My parents were pretending—like your dad—to get inside information, but for different reasons. They managed to document some of the events and people involved without anyone’s knowledge.” She lifted the papers in her hand and shook them at Owen until he batted them away with a scowl but she didn’t quit. “Now will you listen to me?”
She posed a persuasive argument even if he wanted to walk away and leave the experience with Piper Sunday as an unfortunate memory but he had a commitment to Mama Jo. “We’ll talk about it when I get back,” he said, giving a little. But that wasn’t enough, and Piper countered with her own idea.
“Let me go with you,” she suggested. “We can read on the plane. Besides, didn’t you tell me your brother Thomas works for the FBI? That’s perfect. He might be able to answer some questions I have about the investigation part of the case.” She scrambled to her car and pulled an overnight bag that was in her trunk. He stared, dumbfounded and she explained with an efficient grin. “I’m always prepared at a moment’s notice. You never know when the next big story is going to break or where it will take you. Besides, my dad always insisted I keep emergency stuff in my car, like flashlights, water, granola bars and a change of clothes in case I find myself in a predicament.”
How could he argue with that logic? “I don’t know, Piper…this is my family and they’re going through something terrible. I think I should do this alone.”
Her lovely, stubborn mouth firmed as she shook her head, tossing her bag into the truck alongside his. “That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do. Being alone isn’t a badge of honor or courage, Owen. And there’s no shame in admitting that you don’t want to be alone.”
Had he admitted that? He canted his gaze at her, realizing she wasn’t going to quit. It was either take her along or fight her all the way to the airport, where she’d probably end up finding her way on the plane anyway.
“Oh!” she said suddenly, beaming, as she pulled her cell phone from her purse. “I happen to have some frequent-flyer miles I never found time to use so you don’t even have to worry about a ticket. I’ll log on while we drive so that by the time we arrive at the airport, it’ll all be set.” She hopped into the truck and motioned to him. “Well, c’mon, slowpoke. We’re going to miss our flight!”
Owen couldn’t quite believe it but he was going to Bridgeport…with Piper Sunday in tow.
PIPER CURLED HER TOES inside her tennis shoes, glad she exchanged her strappy sandals for the sensible Nike sneakers that were in her bag. She sent a text message to Nancy at the paper letting her know she was taking some personal time and then a similar text to her parents about needing some time to reflect and get away from Dayton. She put her phone away and settled back in her seat, ready for takeoff.
She loved flying but lately she’d been so busy with her investigation into Red Meadows that everything else had fallen by the wayside and that included private time for herself. She risked a glance at Owen. The tension rolling off him dimmed her enjoyment, reminding her that they weren’t on a pleasure trip.
“So tell me about Mama Jo,” she said, hoping to break the ice between them. There was still plenty that needed to be said but she figured a plane cabin wasn’t the most appropriate location, so she sought to distract him for now. “Tell me what it was like when you first came into her home.”
Owen shifted in the tiny seat, clearly uncomfortable with their accommodations but he seemed grateful for something to focus on aside from whatever turmoil was in his head.
“I was the first in Mama Jo’s care. I was twelve and she’d been taking in troubled kids for a while by that point but her home was empty when I arrived. I was a mess when I got there,” he admitted.
“I can only imagine. How did you cope with a black caregiver, given your background?”
“Ah…not well,” he said, his gaze clouding. “I was a real jackass for a few weeks. But she wore me down with kindness and firm discipline. And in the end, I was still a brokenhearted kid who’d been abandoned by circumstance and she seemed to understand that somehow.” He cracked a grin as he shared a memory. “Mama Jo had a belief that anger was an emotion that had to be physically worked out or else it just festered beneath the surface to show up later. So you can imagine how three messed-up kids acted when they got hot under the collar. Her answer to that kind of stuff was to send us out back to chop wood.”
Piper smiled, finding that little bit of information delightful. “Did it work?”
“Hell yes. By the time we were finished chopping wood, our arms felt about ready to fall off and we didn’t want to bother with anything else.” His smile deepened. “She’s one smart woman. She knew a thing or two about raising boys.”
“She didn’t have any children of her own?”
“One. Cordry. He died in a group home for troubled youth. I guess that’s why she got into foster care in the first place. She wanted kids who had nowhere to turn to have a safe haven somewhere. But she said when she met me and my brothers, Thomas and Christian, she’d found her true purpose for being a foster parent and that was to find her boys.”
“Wow. That’s so awesome.”
“Yeah. She’s something else.”
“So what’s going on with her right now?”
He looked away, out toward the view across the wing and into the clouds below. “She’s sick. Cancer.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” Piper said softly, reaching over to tuck his hand into hers. “It’ll mean a lot to have you all there for her.”
He nodded, his gaze finding their entwined hands and he gave her fingers a soft squeeze. “I should’ve done this earlier. It’s been too long since I’ve been home.”
She remained quiet, sensing his admission didn’t require a rejoinder. Taking a risk, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She resisted the urge to sigh contentedly. There was still an ocean of problems between them but for now, she was going to enjoy the moment. Within minutes, she’d fallen into a blissful sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
OWEN AND PIPER DISEMBARKED from the plane and met Thomas outside the terminal. Any questions he might’ve had at the unexpected guest he kept to himself and simply introduced himself to Piper and then wrapped Owen in a tight, effusive manly hug that still brought tears to Owen’s eyes. He’d missed this. Wiping at his own eyes, Thomas ribbed him saying, “You big crybaby. You always were a softy.”
Owen tucked him in a headlock, grinning. “I’ll show you soft…”
They messed around for a minute as they loaded the luggage but soon they were in the car and driving to Bridgeport.
The sights and smells took him back, and the trip into the past was powerful stuff. He’d left so soon after high school and it’d been a long time since he’d even come home for a visit. Sobering, he asked after Mama Jo. “So, what’s the word? What kind of cancer are we talking?”
“Breast. But the doc says we caught it early so there’s a good chance she’s going to beat this.”
“Is she getting good care? What’s her health insurance like?” he asked.
“Well, she’s on Medicare and that’s at least better than nothing, but me and Cassi have been picking up some of the tab for her treatments.”
“I want to pitch in, too,” he volunteered immediately. “What about Christian?”
“Yeah, he’s helping, too.”
“Good.”
Piper remained quiet in the backseat of Thomas’s truck, observing their interaction with something of an enigmatic smile on her face.
Thomas glanced at Piper in his rearview mirror. “So you two friends or something?” he asked, fishing for details that Owen wasn’t ready to share.
“Or something,” Owen answered for her making her frown. “She’
s that reporter I told you about.”
Thomas’s brow inched upward in surprise. “The same reporter who…”
“Who was trying to make my life a living hell,” he supplied for his brother. “The very same.”
“I wouldn’t say I was trying to do that. We have a difference of opinion on that score,” she retorted, pausing to give Thomas a blinding smile. “Piper Sunday. So pleased to meet you.”
Thomas was likely dying to know why he’d brought the “yellow journalist” home with him but Owen would have to fill him in later. Right now, he wanted to focus on Mama Jo, so he gave the basics of his association with Piper. “We’re working on a project together and time was an issue, so she offered to come with me.”
She opened her mouth to add her own twist but he quelled her with a look. He didn’t need his brother knowing their personal business. She snapped her mouth shut and turned to gaze out the window, effectively closing him out and promising an earful later, but he’d deal with her ire behind closed doors.
“What project?” Thomas asked, curious.
“Later,” he promised. “I’m beat from the flight and the peanuts I ate on the plane didn’t go very far. Mind if we stop and get a bite before we head to Mama’s?”
“If I bring you home with a bag of fast food I’ll be disowned. You know better than that.”
He scowled. “Mama Jo doesn’t need to be worrying about feeding people right now. She needs to consider her health. She should be resting.”
Thomas cut Owen a sidewise glance. “Man, it has been a long time since you’ve been home. Have you ever known Mama Jo to slow down even when she ought to?”
“No, but maybe that’s the problem. She’s run herself into the ground taking care of others.”
“Cassi is back at the house, helping Mama Jo. When she heard you were coming, she set to making enough cornbread to feed an army.”
His mouth watered at the memory of Mama Jo’s cooking but he felt like a toad for the jump in anticipation. “Cassi’s helping out?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s about the only one Mama Jo lets in her kitchen these days.”
“Things good between you?” he asked.
Thomas cracked a wide grin. “They’re good.” The self-satisfied smile said more than good. Owen shared his brother’s happiness. They all loved Cassi. For him and Christian, she was the sister they never had. For Thomas, she was the one.
“Who’s Cassi?” Piper chimed in from the back.
“My wife,” Thomas answered. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet her when we get to Mama Jo’s.”
Owen chuckled to himself, imagining how Piper’s jaw would drop when she found out how Thomas and Cassi got together. It made for interesting conversation when your brother was tasked with arresting his secret first love when she was on the run from the law. Owen still couldn’t believe how they ended up happy and in love after they’d both traded punches before the “you’re my soul mate” part started. And according to Thomas, Cassi had a wicked left hook.
BY THE TIME THEY ARRIVED at the small cottage belonging to Mama Jo and the place where Owen and his foster brothers had finished growing up, nervousness had set in. Perhaps she’d been a little rash in jumping on board with this trip. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. All she’d known was that she was riding high on her findings and Owen was leaving town. She couldn’t fathom watching him leave and waiting for him to return. The obvious answer had seemed to be that she go with him, but now, she wasn’t so sure. She wasn’t anything to him. How could she face his family as if she belonged?
They filed into the house and Piper purposefully hung back, definitely feeling like a third wheel amongst the clan who was hugging and kissing and making up for lost time. As she watched Owen with his brothers, their wives and Mama Jo, genuine joy unfurling in his expression, she knew she was finally seeing the true Owen. Before, she’d always seen the businessman, the logger, the opponent. Now she saw the man underneath all the personas he projected for everyone on the outside. The people here right now, in this small but cozy room, were the privileged few who got to see the real Owen. The realization humbled her. She’d never been a particularly private person, having grown up surrounded by a community of people on the farm, but she knew, watching the interactions between these people, that allowing someone in your inner circle was a gift. A gift Owen had inadvertently given to her.
She swallowed and waited to be introduced but before Owen could do the honors, the matriarch who ruled the roost stepped forward with a strong, assessing gaze that Piper felt compelled to meet without flinching, no matter how she might want to run and hide.
“Owen, who is your friend?” she asked.
“My name is Piper Sunday,” Piper answered for herself, putting her hand out for a handshake.
Mama Jo cracked a smile on her softly worn face and cackled with laughter. “Honey, if Owen brought you home, you’re more than a friend. Now, come here and give Mama Jo some love. Here, you’re family. We don’t stand on ceremony.” And then Piper was gathered into a warm embrace much the same as the rest and she delighted in the warm and fuzzy feelings it evoked. She’d never been shorted in the love department—her parents, though academic, were still affectionate—but there was something about a hug from Mama Jo that fed the soul.
She risked a glance at Owen, perhaps to apologize for horning in on his private circle but he looked anything but unhappy to have her there. Puzzled, but certainly warmed by it, Piper was released by Mama Jo and she went to stand by Owen while Mama Jo returned to the kitchen in a blur of motion.
“She certainly looks pretty healthy,” Piper offered hopefully. “I’ve heard a good attitude accounts for a significant part of a person’s recovery when it comes to cancer.”
“Mama Jo is a force of nature. I can’t imagine something like an illness taking her down,” he murmured softly. She leaned toward him and smiled as his arm reached around and anchored at her waist. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea at first but I’m glad you’re here.”
She looked up at him. “Me, too,” she said with sincerity.
The rest of the night was spent talking, laughing, sharing stories and eating until their guts felt ready to pop.
By the time Cassi, Thomas, Christian and Skye left, everyone was ready to turn in. Mama Jo turned to Piper with a warm but firm smile that brooked no argument as she said, “In this house, the only ones sleeping together are the ones bound together in front of God. Blankets are in the linen closet, sugar.”
Mama Jo reached up on her tiptoes to place a smacking kiss on Owen’s cheek, then pinched his cheeks for good measure, murmuring with a warm smile, “Feels good to have all my boys home for a change. Good night, honey.”
“Night, Mama Jo,” he returned with love in his voice. “You get some rest. No getting up to fix breakfast, you hear?”
Mama laughed softly and closed the door behind her, leaving them alone for the night.
“Why do I have the feeling I’m going to wake at the crack of dawn to the smell of breakfast cooking no matter what you say?”
“Because that’s exactly what she’s going to do. Stubborn woman,” he said with affection. He gestured outside. “Want to sit on the porch swing for a little while?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Owen led the way and they took up residence on the creaking wooden swing. Thoughts and questions raced through her brain, each clamoring for attention but she was reluctant to ruin an otherwise fabulous night with the things that were left unsaid between them.
“I understand your devotion to Mama Jo,” she said, breaking the silence. “She’s amazing. She manages to make you feel like you’re a part of something bigger than yourself within the first five minutes of meeting. I imagine when you were kids that was something more precious than gold to feel accepted and loved like that.”
“More than you know,” he answered gravely, the light from the moon reflecting in his eyes. “She’s the epicen
ter of our family. Without her… I don’t even like to think about it.”
She couldn’t even imagine the fear he had bunched inside. She’d never lost anyone close to her but she sensed his need for closeness and she was happy to give it to him. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. He reacted slowly, as if savoring the kiss, then drew her to him, deepening the contact until she felt as if she were happily falling. His tongue teased hers and then he broke contact. Their breathing had become shallow, as the intensity of the moment robbed them of the ability to think, much less breathe normally.
“What are we doing?” she whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“I don’t know,” he admitted with a sigh. “But you’re so beautiful sometimes it hurts to look at you. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you showed up in my driveway.”
Delicious heat warmed her from the inside as she said, “Me, too.” She grinned until she remembered with a frown. “That is, until you started yelling at me. Where did that come from?”
Pulling away, he said, regret in his voice, “I ran into that colleague of yours—Charlie Yert. He put a few worms in my brain that I couldn’t seem to lodge loose. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. Everything got to me at once.”
“Charlie’s always looking to stir up trouble when it comes to me and if you’re not on guard, he can get under your skin.”
“Well, he definitely managed to do that. Why does he want to stir up trouble for you?”
She shrugged. “He hates me. I think it all started when I shot him down romantically when I first came on staff. He thought he could impress me with the fact that his mother’s brother owns the newspaper.” She made a gagging noise. “But the thought of even sitting across a dinner table from Charlie was more than I could stomach. I tried to let him down easily but he wigged out. And from then on, he was on a mission to catch me screwing up. When he discovered I was nosing around the Red Meadows story, he got really weird. I just chalked it up to Charlie being Charlie but he started to get really mean about it.”
Secrets in a Small Town Page 20