Something Like Family

by Heather Burch

  Tuck hadn’t seen the park yet. Rave wanted to surprise him with it. The committee had settled on a ninety-day completion schedule. It was ambitious, but it was possible. Still, Rave wouldn’t wait that long before taking Tuck to the park. He just wanted it to have a sense of the veteran devotion they were all putting into it.

  They’d had a total of six committee meetings in the last three weeks. They’d planned to get together once a week while the memorial park was in the main stages of work. But once a week became twice a week when three unplanned meetings happened. The first came when the owner of the local lumberyard wanted to inform the committee that he’d decided to donate an almost unlimited supply of materials. The second was to accept an offer from a local granite contractor who wanted to donate granite slabs that could be etched and used as memorials for veterans of each war fought by American soldiers.

  The last meeting was to accept a check from a wealthy businessman who resided in Memphis but had been born in Barton. His grandfather was one of the firstborn killed in action during World War II. The soldier’s wife had been pregnant, and that baby grew up to be the businessman’s father.

  If materials and volunteer labor kept up, they’d meet their ninety-day completion window. The townspeople of Barton had surprised them all, and help had come pouring in as soon as word of what they were doing began to spread through town.

  To his surprise, Rave had actually enjoyed being on the committee. Heading it, even. It suited him to be the voice of reason when the conversations got heated—which they did now and then—mostly because of a local businessman named Tom Blythe. He’d volunteered for the committee and filled the last open spot. Rave wished he’d known more about the man before being on the committee with him. Not that he could have stopped him from volunteering, but it would have prepared Rave for dealing with the self-centered, egotistical Blythe.

  Now Blythe had called an emergency meeting of the committee, and Rave could only guess what it was about. First, Blythe contacted Pastor Keith and must have been miffed at the fact that he’d have to go through Rave to make the impromptu meeting happen. Rave agreed to the gathering and called the other members.

  Over the last weeks, in Rave’s free time, he’d been learning about the wars in which American soldiers had fought. Sure, he’d learned some of that in school, but now he felt connected to it, a part of it. Most mornings, he and Tuck worked on the cabin. By noon, Tuck was usually ready to rest, and Rave would head into town to meet up with the day’s volunteers at the park. Ellen, a committee member and the architectural engineer, had become something of a forewoman on the job site. Having been a marine, she was great at organizing the day and delegating the work. She’d also suggested creating an all–combat veteran advisory board that could be consulted on events to be held in the park. Rave loved that idea.

  Though Rave was the head of the committee, he led in a gentle way. Since he was young, he had been careful not to cause friction. But friction could be Tom Blythe’s middle name. There was a slickness to him that Rave didn’t trust. He didn’t so much feel threatened by the guy as watchful about his true motives. Everyone else on the committee was in sync. Tom was not. He was the perpetual devil’s advocate and seemed to glory in that title. But it didn’t matter; they were a team and Rave was their captain, not their king. If Tom had some great news about a fat check or donation, well, Rave would gladly give him the floor for an hour so he could preen about how no one else but him could have accomplished it. Different personalities had different needs. Some people thrived on constant praise. Some shriveled to dust without it.

  The committee had gathered in a meeting room inside the courthouse. Tom, dressed in a red tie and a white button-down shirt that stretched over his wide stomach, stood to address the group but waited until every set of eyes was on him, a tactic used to establish control. No one else stood up when they had the floor. Rave thought it was silly. And by the looks on the other committee members’ faces, everyone agreed. The room was cooled by an ancient air conditioner that hummed and gave out the occasional groan as they waited. Even so, Tom’s face glistened with a sheen of sweat. His small, round eyes occasionally darted to Rave. The cracked concrete floor of the courthouse was in need of a polish, but the space was clean and always available for these after-hours meetings. Rave usually found it a comfortable place to be. Tonight, not as much.

  Tom cleared his throat. “So, we’ve got a lot happening in town with this memorial. I’m so glad we thought to do it.”

  Pastor Keith leaned forward on his forearms. “Agreed, Tom. Everyone in town is getting on board with the plan. I’m certainly glad Rave had this idea. And certainly glad he spoke to Mayor Calloway about it.”

  Becca reached under the table and squeezed Rave’s hand.

  Tom sucked his teeth, obviously not appreciating the interruption. “As I was saying, I’ve been talking to folks in town, and I realized something. I believe we’re thinking too small.” He paused for effect.

  Too small? The project had evolved from a simple monument to an entire park complete with seven-foot-tall granite monuments.

  “In fact, I think we owe it to the people of this town to honor not only our veterans.”

  Ellen Kirsch tilted her head. “What do you have in mind, Tom?”

  He raised and dropped his hands, but there was a dramatic flair to his actions that had Rave’s flesh crawling.

  “Well, what I propose is this—and a lot of people in town agree—we not only honor our veterans but open it up to all public service personnel. Firemen, law enforcement. My problem with this whole thing is why not honor everyone who puts their lives on the line for us? There would be some logistical changes, of course. I mean, we’d need to reorganize this group. Maybe select a new chair—after all, we’re talking a much bigger commitment. I think it’d be in the memorial’s best interest to have an established businessman as the chair.”

  “Someone such as yourself?” Pastor Keith asked.

  Tom’s eyes widened as if surprised. “Never thought of that, but someone.” He motioned around the room. “Several of us are qualified.” His emphasis on the word qualified spoke volumes. Rave wasn’t. That was the point.

  The room was quiet. Rave could feel the atmosphere changing, and not in a way he liked. It felt as though the memorial garden was slipping through his fingers. And he could do nothing to stop it. His throat constricted. Maybe Tom was right.

  Becca leaned over to him. Her teeth were gritted. “Put an end to this.”

  And that’s when it hit him. Tom didn’t care about veterans or firefighters or law enforcement. He cared about control. He wanted to be in charge, no matter the cost.

  Tom rocked back on his heels. “I think we should put it to a vote right now.”

  Rave stood up. “No.”

  Tom blinked twice and chuckled, but it was a tense sound filled with shock. He hadn’t expected Rave to buck. Or to stand up to him.

  Unlike Tom’s, Rave’s posture was loose, comfortable.

  “Well, young man, can you give us a reason why?”

  Rave glanced down at Becca, who smiled up at him. “Sir, I can give you twenty-nine reasons why.”

  Tom waved his hand in front of his face dismissively. “Twenty-nine? What’s that?”

  “That’s the number of firstborn killed in action during World War Two.”

  Tom’s face scrunched for a moment, but he quickly recovered. That was a number he should have known.

  Rave continued. “And if that isn’t enough, I can give you 33,652. That’s the number of US battle deaths during the Korean War.”

  Tom’s eyes narrowed on Rave.

  “And another 47,500 killed in action during Vietnam. And the last statistic—almost 7,000 killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.”

  The room was silent, but Rave could see the frustration in Tom’s face. “Mr. Blythe, I truly appreciate your suggestion. And I wholeheartedly agree that our local law enforcement and the fire department should be ho
nored. But this isn’t the place for that. This is for the men and women who died on foreign soil so that we could become firefighters and cops. This is for them, the ones who didn’t get to come home. And it’s for the men and women who held their hands on battlefields and in combat hospitals while they died.”

  Tom looked away from Rave and studied the other faces at the table. He knew his hold was slipping. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. For a moment Rave thought he’d relent, but Tom’s chin jutted forward as he said, “I called for a vote.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Becca’s heart was so happy, it could burst. “Unanimous. You should be proud of that.” But she already knew Rave was proud of it. The council had stood behind him a hundred percent, causing Tom Blythe not only to leave angry, but to forfeit his place on the committee altogether.

  Becca stepped through the courthouse door and into the cool evening. “Admit it. You didn’t mind seeing Tom go.”

  Rave slipped his hand into hers. His smile was a devastating slash that made her heart skip a beat. “His heart wasn’t right. He needed to go.”

  They walked beneath the giant tree downtown that held as much mystery as it did summer flowers. “You know,” Becca said, “they say that couples who kiss under this tree are destined to stay together forever.”

  Rave stopped and pulled her into his arms. “Is that so?”

  “That’s what they say.” His hands roamed over her back, creating a zinging sensation in her flesh. The breeze was still, only the tiniest of winds rustling the very top of the tree. Evening lights lit the darkening streets as town folded up for the night. Becca breathed it in, all of it. The whisper of fluttering leaves, the scent of freshly mowed grass, the man before her. There were moments in life that instantly had a full range of emotion attached—even if the moment was just beginning. Right here, right now, Becca felt complete, like everything was right with the world. Rave’s fingertips grazed the ends of her hair. Every sensation intensified because somewhere deep in her spirit, she knew this moment—or the moments following—were about to change everything for her.

  Rave lifted her chin and dropped a kiss on her mouth.

  How he could so easily leave her feeling dizzy, she didn’t understand. “That’s a dangerous thing you’re doing, Rave. Tempting fate.”

  He leaned again, this time brushing his lips across hers, then trailing little kisses from her cheek to the sensitive spot below her jaw. “Not tempting, daring.”

  “You’ll be stuck with me. Forever is a long time.”

  He leaned back so he could look her in the eye. “When are you going to figure out that’s exactly what I want?”

  Under normal conditions, she wasn’t a highly emotional person. Becca had always prided herself on her straightforward reasoning and sensibility. But Rave made her want to dream, to hope, to soar. Here she’d been thinking she was stuck in a town that couldn’t let her fly when all along her wings were waiting to swoop into town and sweep her off her feet. “Thank you, Rave.”

  He guided her long hair over her shoulder. “For what?”

  “For being my wings.” He pulled her into an embrace. She pressed her ear to his chest and closed her eyes. There wasn’t anything that felt more right than this moment. This place. This man. Rave was an old soul, damaged but stronger for it. He was gold, refined by the hottest of fires. Tempered into a rock-solid combination of determination and empathy.

  When her eyes opened, she saw the silhouette moving in the shadows beyond the tree. Gooseflesh broke out across her shoulders.

  Rave must have noticed. Of course he did. There was little that slipped past him. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  When the silhouette took form—Ashley, standing alone, the pain and sadness in her eyes tangible—Becca opened her mouth. She snapped it closed when Ashley shook her head and mouthed, “Please, no.”

  “Nothing,” Becca said, a little too cheerily. “Rave, I want to stop by Sustenance. Alexandra is there baking for tomorrow morning. I need to talk to her.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. “I’ll go with you. Then walk you to your car.” Usually, she loved having his hands dig through her hair, but right now, with Ashley watching, Becca just wanted him to stop.

  “Actually, I’m going to help her for a while. Go home. Isn’t Daniel staying the night? Didn’t you promise him you could make a fort out of quilts in the living room when you got home from the meeting?”

  “He promised to be a good boy for Tuck. They’re watching a superhero movie.” Rave kissed Becca’s cheek. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to get rid of me.”

  She stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in kind. “That’s because I am trying to get rid of you. Now, go.”

  His brow furrowed. “Everything OK?”

  “It’s great, Rave.” That wasn’t a lie. For her, everything was perfect. But the small blonde standing alone in the shadow of the mighty oak, well, that was another story. “I just need some girl time.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Rave gave her one more peck before darting off toward Tuck’s Chevy.

  Becca watched his taillights disappear before looking over to the place where she’d spotted Ashley. The girl looked helpless as Becca walked over, each step a warning that she should mind her own business. But Becca knew she couldn’t do that. She was likely the cause of the pretty blonde’s misery. Ashley had dropped onto a park bench. Her knees were bent, pressed to her chest. Her arms wrapped around them. Red-rimmed eyes made contact as Becca neared. She’d been crying.

  “Ashley, what’s wrong?” Becca sank beside her slowly because of all the people in the world, Becca was probably the last she’d want to confide in.

  Ashley shook her head. “It’s all wrong.”

  Becca wanted to reach out, reach over, but she figured that might not be well received.

  Ashley pointed down the road where Rave had driven away in Tuck’s truck. “He’s really into you.”

  Becca swallowed. “I’m sorry, Ashley. Is that why you’re upset?”

  Ashley pushed the hair from her face where it had stuck to the tears on her cheeks. “It’s that and everything.” She shook her head. “This town, this place. I don’t belong here.”

  Becca turned to face her. “No one belongs anywhere until they make it their home.”

  “I’ve tried. It’s not working. I just need to go.”

  Panic set in. Rave would die if he lost Daniel again. “Please. Daniel loves it here. It’s already starting to feel like home for him. It can be for you, too.”

  Ashley hugged her knees. “I came here for Rave. And he’s with you now. I just need to go somewhere and start over.”

  Becca’s stomach roiled. She was losing this fight. “Ashley, you’ve got to give it a little more time. I know it’s scary being alone, but Barton is a great town. I promise it’ll get better for you.”

  “This is already July. In less than two months I have to get Daniel enrolled for school. But there’s nothing here for me.”

  Becca threaded her hands together for fear of lashing out and grabbing Ashley to plead with her not to go. “But there will be. In time. If you stay here, we can help you. Rave and I. You’re not alone here, Ashley.”

  She sniffed. “I have a job opportunity somewhere else.”

  Becca could no longer stop herself. She placed a hand on Ashley’s arm. “Please don’t take it. It’d kill Rave. Please.”

  “Winter will be here soon, and I don’t even own a coat. Neither does Daniel.”

  “I know Rave wants to take him school shopping. He already mentioned it a couple of times. Rave will make sure Daniel has winter clothes. And as for you, I’ve got a great winter coat I can give you—I mean, if you wouldn’t be offended by a hand-me-down.”

  Ashley laughed without humor. “I wouldn’t. My whole life has been hand-me-downs.”

  Becca smiled. “My mom works at a thrift store in Crowder, just a few miles down the roa
d. It’s kind of an upscale place, designers you’d like, I swear. Maybe we could go over there tomorrow and pick out some fall and winter clothes for you. She gets a great deal on what she buys.”

  Ashley stared straight ahead for a long time. Around them, the town square was quiet. A lone car drove past. “Why are you doing this?”

  Becca sighed. “Because I know what it’s like to feel left behind. A couple years ago, my then boyfriend went to college without me. And since we’re on the subject of boys, I can tell you what guys in town are OK and which ones are trouble.”

  Ashley rolled her eyes. “I already met trouble. One of the reasons I’m out here alone tonight.”

  “Who?”

  “Glen Cogdill. I figured going out with the sheriff’s son couldn’t be a bad idea.”

  Ugh. Glen had been a troublemaker since elementary school. “I’m glad you realized differently. Glen is all trouble. He couldn’t be more different from the rest of his family.”

  “You know them well, I guess?” A couple walked past, and Ashley ducked her head while Becca gave them a quick smile.

  “Really well. It was Glen’s older brother that went off to college.”

  “You were dating him?”

  “Yes. And he and Glen are different as night and day. But there are some really good guys here, Ashley. Good-hearted guys who will treat you well.”

  “Right, and that’s why you latched on to Rave as soon as he hit town.”

  The words cut. Becca wouldn’t deny their sting. She also wouldn’t apologize for her feelings. “Actually, I tried not to be interested in Rave. But it’s inexplicable. I couldn’t fight it.”

  “And you think there’s an inexplicable for me here in Barton?” The tiniest bit of hope lifted her words.

  Becca smiled. “I believe there could be. If you stay.”

  “So this job opportunity, you think I should pass on it?”