“Miranda!” her father yelled.
Before he could finish whatever ugly statement he was about to make, Miranda hung up. When her phone lit up because they were calling back, she didn’t answer. Instead, she put it on the coffee table, screen down. Her hands trembled, and her heartbeat thundered against my chest. I could feel the stress seeping out of every inch of her skin.
A moment later, she picked up the phone, powered it off, and put it back down.
“I know you were hoping for closure.” I needed to speak, so she didn’t sit and stew on the failure.
She let out a sad sound. “Closure is a word people use to make themselves feel better. There’s no such thing. There’s nothing my parents could ever say to undo what they’ve done or how they hurt me.”
I squeezed her gently.
“Honestly, I’m grateful I can say I tried my best to fix our relationship, but how can you put back the pieces when everything is fractured beyond repair?” Her tone gave away that she wished she could have made progress. “I have to take the blame too. Not for Alisa’s death, but for my part in allowing them to use me as a whipping post. When I was young, I didn’t know any better, but as an adult, I should have.” She chewed at her lip. “I suppose it’s no different from being in an abusive relationship. You stick around and try to be perfect, hoping that things will change. It rarely does. I’ve seen enough aftermath of domestic abuse cases to know how it turns out. This isn’t any different. Only the abusers were my parents.”
“You did your best. You aired your grievances and stopped the cycle. I’m proud of you.” I held her close, loving her all the more. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine having a family like hers. What would I have done without my loving, supportive parents? Who would I have become without them and my brothers?
“Thank you,” she whispered, her tears dotting my shirt.
“No matter what,” I said, knowing my mother would approve of what I was about to say. As would my father if he’d been there to hear me. “You have a family now, a family that loves you unconditionally. We don’t care about your past. We’re focused on your future. Every single one of us, and even if you dumped me, you’ll always be family.” I meant every word.
Her shoulders shook as she let the emotions out. My shirt stuck to my skin because it was so wet from her tears.
“Sorry for making you cry more.” I felt terrible because I’d been trying to make her feel better, not worse.
“It’s okay. They’re good tears.” She sniffled, then let out a little laugh. With that, she sat up and turned to face me. Straddling my hips, she leaned into my body—belly to belly, chest to chest, heart to heart.
“All I ever wanted was a family.” Her soft confession made me ache more for her.
“I’m sorry yours was awful. We can share mine, no matter what.” I kissed her damp cheeks, then her warm forehead. Her arms wound around my shoulders, and she clung to me as if she’d never let me go.
Something whispered that this was how it was meant to be. I may have made some bold decisions in my life and not always realized all the repercussions from jumping headfirst, but my heart told me that Miranda was worth the chance. I am not worried about where we will end up because I was born to love this woman. And right now, with her in my arms, there was nothing to fear because everything was finally right in the world, and she was exactly where she belonged.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Miranda
“Miranda, we’ve got a call about a suspicious vehicle out at the old, abandoned farm.” My deputy’s annoyed voice couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
I knew who the suspicious trespassing vehicle belonged to.
“I’m on my way.” I pointed my Tahoe toward the farm, glancing at the water bottle in surprise because it didn’t pop out and roll all over the floor when I hit the first bump. I shouldn’t have been shocked because Bayden had fixed the cup holder weeks ago. Still, like everything else in my life, I couldn’t help but be amazed that things were working out so well.
The cup holder and Bayden and my relationship weren’t the only things going better. I received a call from my mother telling me she left my father and was in therapy. He’d also gone to get help. Separately, the two of them were working on their lives, their alcohol problems, and their grief.
The call hadn’t been all rainbows and sunshine—mom still held on to a lot of her anger at me, and she blamed me—but I could hear that she was seeing her contribution to the tragedy that ended my sister’s life. I hoped that we’d be a family of sorts one day, but I was content knowing they were getting the help they needed for now.
Who knew what the future held? I wouldn’t hold my breath that my parents would ever fully come around because decades of replaying the same soundtrack had a way of changing reality. They had lied to themselves for so long they didn’t recognize the truth, but I was happy for the baby steps they were taking.
In the meantime, I had a family.
Bayden’s family welcomed me with open arms, and I opened up and told them my story. Their love and support surrounded me and gave me strength when I had none. My own family isolated me, but the Lockharts made me feel like I belonged.
Kandra had given me a huge hug from one side, and Irene held me from the other while Bayden rubbed my back in that absentminded way he did that always brought me comfort.
Together we mourned my lost sister, my lost childhood, my pain, and my suffering. When we were done, we had dinner and filled the time with love, smiles, conversations, joy, and mostly laughter. The Lockharts were a bunch of jokers, and it filled my heart with glee. Bayden’s family, my family, lifted my spirits and left me feeling more at home than I ever had.
The dirt road led me past Ethel and Norman’s place, and the two waved from their front porch. I waved right back, a grin on my lips. The sly couple knew what they were doing when they called Bayden in as suspicious. Nothing could convince me otherwise, but I didn’t mind one bit.
With all the changes in my life, I had things to be proud of, too, like the fact that I held little Kip. Only for a second until he started crying, and then I passed him back in abject horror that I made him cry. Kandra had been quick to tell me that it wasn’t my fault and that babies sometimes cry around new people.
Her explanation made me feel better, and Kip seemed fine once he calmed back down. No injury, no lasting effects, nothing. Maybe kids weren’t so scary after all. I wasn’t planning to go off birth control anytime soon, but there was a glimmer of hope for a future where children didn’t terrify me.
That was a good thing because Kandra confided in me that the reason she’d been so tired and leaning so hard on her brothers-in-law and mother-in-law was that she and Noah were expecting again.
No one else knew but her and Noah, so the fact that she confessed to me first had touched me deeply. She trusted me with her secret, and I resolved to be there for them this time. Which meant I needed to get over my fear of babies.
Their surprise pregnancy and the joy in her face had me over the moon for them. I’d asked if she was afraid, and she told me, of course, she was. Being a parent wasn’t easy, and there was no instruction manual. You did the best you could and asked for help when you needed it.
Her words resonated with me. Had I asked for help earlier instead of hiding my pain from everyone, I may have weathered the storm more easily.
With a light heart and fresh excitement pulsing through me, I drove out to the old farm in the early morning sunshine. I’d woken up beside Bayden this morning, sad to get ready for work on his day off. He pulled me in for a kiss, then got breakfast and coffee prepared while I showered. We had found our rhythm, and it was as natural as breathing. Our time together was seamless, happy, and loving.
Avoiding the three potholes in quick succession, I enjoyed the way my heart fluttered as I thought about my life. Everything was working out better than I could have imagined. I knew there’d be hard times too, but I could handle
hard times, I’d proven that over the last two decades.
With the dust kicking up behind me, I pulled in and parked beside Bayden’s truck. There was no way he didn’t see me coming from a mile away with all that dirt the tires brought about. I caught sight of him walking from the corner of the overgrown pasture across the drive and toward me.
When he saw me looking at him, he halted, hands up, an easy smile on his face.
With a chuckle, I opened the door and got out.
“I guess I’m busted, huh?” His sensual tone made my heart do little flips. I loved this man with everything I had.
“Yes, you are, mister.” I walked toward him as he turned to stare up at the farmhouse.
“Am I under arrest?” He winked at me, and a sudden heat filled my belly.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said with a teasing smirk across my face. We stood shoulder to shoulder and studied the old building for a moment.
“Talking to your father?” I asked. I knew his wounds from losing his father hadn’t healed. Losing their dad had a profound effect on all the Lockharts. I often wished I could have known Kip better before he passed, but my every interaction with him had been positive. He was a good man, and that was reflected in his sons.
Bayden nodded.
“And?”
He laughed. “And what? He doesn’t talk back. I think I’d need a straitjacket if he did. Despite his silence, I still hear him in my heart. Does that make me crazy?”
“Not one bit.” His ability to joke gently about the topic told me everything I needed to know about his state of mind. He was in a good place, and I was happy to hear that.
“I’ve done something,” he said, as he glanced back at the house.
Looking at the mossy roof and the caving-in corner, I almost didn’t notice the beautiful lines, the intricate touches in the woodwork, and the gorgeous second-story porthole window that was a feature of the home. Even in its debilitated state, it was obvious this place had been built with love and care.
“I’m sorry I didn’t discuss the decision with you first.” He dug a toe into the dirt, kicking up a bit of quartz and nudging it toward the driveway’s edge.
“How can I help?” It didn’t matter what he did; I was in his corner for better or for worse, come hell or high water. He didn’t owe it to me to discuss choices first, and I didn’t need to weigh in on everything he wanted to do. We were two independent people that lived our own lives. We blended as much of it as we could. I didn’t expect perfection, and I doubted he did either. Maybe it was a strange way to do things, but it worked for us.
“I bought this place.” He gave me a rueful smile, then nodded toward the house again.
I glanced at him, dumbfounded.
“I’d like for us to rebuild it together.”
The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. We were going to take something that meant a lot to him and rebuild, like our lives.
“This was my father’s secret legacy, one of his first builds and a project he loved to his dying day, and I’d like us to carry it on, to make it our legacy.” His attention returned to the sagging roof, the rain gutters falling away from the walls, and the decaying porch.
I touched his hand. “It’s still your father’s legacy, and it can also be ours.” Our fingers laced together, and we both held on to one another.
He studied me as I focused on the house again, imagining what it must have looked like freshly built.
“Does that mean…” He trailed off as if he couldn’t voice his good fortune lest he jinxed it.
Well, I had no problem saying the words out loud. With a nod, I spoke. “I’ll move in with you, and we’ll rebuild this place together.”
He went back to studying the house, his pulse thundering in his palm as we held hands like teenagers. “Does this mean no more harassment from law enforcement on my property? I mean, officer, do you even have reasonable cause to be here?”
I held back a laugh. “I received a call of a suspicious vehicle. It’s well within my duty to follow up on that call. I’m going to need to see proof of purchase of the property.” Even as I joked, I was sad that this playful part of our lives was over. All the sneaking out here, chasing him down … I’d miss it. Knowing we were on to brighter futures helped ease the sting.
Filled to bursting with warmth and excitement, I turned to face him. We started a new chapter in our lives, the first concrete step to building one life from our two paths.
“Where do we start?” I didn’t know the first thing about rebuilding houses. Lucky for me, I knew one of the best in the business, and he had three brothers.
“Want me to tell you?” he asked, giving me a sexy grin. “Or show you?”
I laughed. I wanted to see inside our home. Our home!
I wanted to hear his vision for the place and see him light up with joy and excitement. I couldn’t help but wonder if he radiated his father’s energy when he talked about building and plans.
“Show me,” I said, smiling at him. “Show me everything.”
He nodded his head toward Norman and Ethel’s farmhouse up the road. “They knew we were perfect for each other before we did.” Nothing got past the old folks in this town. They were schemers and meddlers of the best kind.
They heard everything and saw what we couldn’t—that a troubled woman would find healing in a small town, a family where she had none, and love in the arms of a trespasser with a fearless heart.
Sneek Peek at Guarded Hart
Angie
Cross Creek might hold answers to my missing father’s whereabouts.
“Angie,” Roy called out to me as if he had done it several times. “Where were you just then?” he asked.
I lifted both shoulders. “Sorry, I was a million miles away in my own head.” Nothing had gone according to plan. I thought I’d show up in Cross Creek, extract the town’s secrets, figure out if my father was here or not, then continue on my journey to find him. I didn’t expect Ethan, and I certainly didn’t plan on falling for him.
“Well, you might want to stop gawking at that Lockhart boy.” He jerked his chin in the direction I’d been absentmindedly staring, and I followed the motion as my heart began to thunder. Ethan raised his beer in my direction with a smile before losing himself in his tablet again.
Well, this had seemed like a good idea. I figured I could work for Roy on Kandra’s days off to help lighten his load.
Where do people give up secrets? Bars.
Who can someone lean on when they’re having a bad day? The bartender.
Me.
I ran my fingers through my hair to smooth it down as I watched Ethan’s guarded expression. He stopped touching the screen and moved the tablet back as if to take in the whole image before him, and I wondered—for the millionth time—what kept him so captivated on the darn thing. I knew technology addiction was a real thing, but sheesh.
“Take him a beer, will ya?” Roy nodded, and I sighed.
“Of course.” I knew what the old man was up to and it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t in Cross Creek for friendship or romance. I was here for information.
Roy handed me a pint glass filled with chilled amber liquid. The scent of beer hit my nose, and I inhaled and wished for once I could drink without concern. Scanning the room, I made a mental note—the place was quiet for a Saturday.
Of course, Gypsy was here; she and Roy had become inseparable over the last few months. Patti waved at me, and I nodded with a smile for her. She didn’t come in often, but when she did, she and Gypsy usually talked and cackled and for hours. They were generally fun to listen to and watch.
Ethel and Norman were in their own booth and every time Ethel would say something, Norman would reply with a loud “Hah?” They shared a batch of garlic knots and laughter that brought a smile to my lips as I made my way to Ethan with his beer.
Benji sat in a corner, his shoulders curled inwards as if he was in time out. The town had kind of put him there, I guessed, after his inexc
usable behavior with Kandra. While Kandra had become the town sweetheart, Benji was busy trying to right his wrongs and fix his image and reputation. He’d been doing well, volunteering his time to help others and all around being a better person. Tonight, though, he wasn’t alone. Some young man sat with him; a good-looking guy with blond hair, bright eyes, and an uncanny resemblance to Benji. A brother, maybe?
The stranger’s gaze met mine, and he nodded. I offered a friendly smile and turned my attention to Ethan as I set his beer before him. Something in Ethan’s deep blue eyes seemed troubled, and I sat down next to him with a glance over my shoulder at Roy. The place was quiet enough I doubted he’d mind if I took a moment. Besides, Roy encouraged the small-town feel, conversation, and was a laid-back boss. It made me wonder what kind of father he’d be.
“You seem upset.” I reached out and hooked a finger over the top of his tablet. Pushing the device down toward the table, I noticed his eyes narrow as they met mine. “Whatcha up to?”
“Working.” His sour tone didn’t faze me. I knew how grumpy he could be, and I didn’t mind.
“What are you working on?” I tried to lower the tablet more so I could look at the screen, but he pulled it toward himself and pushed a button. The screen went black, and I pressed my lips together. “I want to see.”
His facial features relaxed. “Really?”
I nodded and leaned in like I was sharing a secret. “I’ll try not to steal your super-secret designs.”
He chuckled and turned the screen back on. It flared to life, and he turned the device around. I studied the lines and measurements. Glossing over the numbers and equations, I took in the whole image. The building was beautiful.
Fearless Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 2) Page 15