Summer Street Secrets (The Hills of Burlington Book 3)

by Jacie Middlemann

  He'd taken a lot of guff from his brothers in recent days over his handling of his relationship with her. He knew his reputation since high school and through all the years of college preceded him and not in any great way. But this was different. She was different. And Lord only knew what he hoped for in the long run with her was far different than he’d ever considered before. But then he'd never before looked at a woman with long term intent in his mind. Not much could be said about him for that but in the years since vet school he felt like he'd matured beyond the craziness of all the years before. Over the last week he'd not only been able to get to know her better but had also been able to have the opportunity to see her open up with him in a way he knew without a single doubt wouldn't have happened so quickly had they not been waiting out tenuous hours over her gravely ill dog. He owed that dog big time and planned on making its life the best he could. Those hours through the first night when he'd called her as promised when the dog took a turn for the worst had been long but he had learned a lot. She had spoken of her parents, a childhood filled with joy and worry, and the recent months that had been filled with heartrending grief. She'd also been open with him about her relationship with Jake Kyle, the father she had only met and come to know after the death of her parents. He in turn had shared with her stories about his own family. Their long history in the area and their pride in the family farm and the land that had been settled over a hundred years before and to this day still called home.

  And because he'd gotten to know her well, was able to sense her moods, he knew there was something she was struggling to bring up. He also had an idea of what it might be thanks to his cousin Court.

  They'd just finished with his only scheduled appointment of the day, not to say someone else wouldn't show up unexpectedly. He had never been big on appointments preferring instead for folks to show up when needed and convenient to them. Deciding he'd waited long enough he shifted over to the kitchen area. "How about something to eat. I was up early with that congested pup we released and didn't get much in the way of breakfast." He pulled out the plate of sandwiches he'd brought with him from the main house that morning. They'd settled into often having lunch together and he hoped that simple habit wouldn't change anytime soon.

  Beth sat at the small table that more often than not also served as a desk. She'd learned in the last couple of days that while Wes was committed to the animals that came through his doors his penchant for paperwork was nonexistent. Since he had refused any form of payment from either herself or her father she’d taken it upon herself to organize his office, such as it was. Doing so had given her more of a glimpse into the man. His dedicated commitment to the numerous and varying animals that came through his doors in need of his care wasn't cheap. She'd seen the invoices for medications and equipment that he had haphazardly stuck in files that were neither labeled or stored in any specific fashion. She'd also seen a sampling of invoices for his services that had reinforced everything she'd already learned. Most were under ten dollars and she'd seen a couple for intricate surgical procedures she knew had been costly in both time and money that he’d charged less than fifty dollars for. This was not a man who felt the need to nickel and dime people. If anything, the far opposite extreme of the concept was closer to the truth.

  She admired him tremendously. And despite herself she looked forward to her days here. And if she was completely honest with herself she'd admit she enjoyed her time with the man who was even now piling food and drink on the table they shared their meals on several times over the past week. She knew instinctively he enjoyed her company as well and wondered what he'd think of what she struggled with to speak of. She needed a different perspective, one that wasn't emotionally biased as her father's was which was why she hadn't yet had this conversation with him.

  She chose a sandwich from the plate between them before facing him as she played through the words in her head once more before speaking them into the quiet that had settled around them.

  "Did Court fill you in about the meeting between Mary, Casey, and Carrie last week?" She asked in what she hoped was a casual tone.

  Wes wondered about the slight edge of nerves he heard. "Some, mostly in passing," he answered honestly. Then decided to shift the flow a bit. "What do you think of it?"

  "I think it's....interesting."

  "What about your Dad?"

  "Dad," she sighed thinking about her conversation with her father just the day before. "He's pretty pragmatic about it. As far as he's concerned he's still the same person he was a week ago...a month ago."

  "Does that person have any extra abilities?" He asked with a smile, as interested in the answer as he was when Court first brought it up but wasn't up to answering questions.

  Because she didn't hear the sarcasm or suspicion she'd worried about she answered him with complete honesty. "Actually, yes." She worried her bottom lip unconsciously. "It doesn't particularly impress him. But if you've ever read any of his books it's eerie how some of what he writes mirrors not just how things already took place but also how some things actually happen later down the road." She shrugged casually, at least she hoped it looked casual, "He says it because real life looks for guidance in books and it doesn't matter whether it's fiction or nonfiction. But I think it's more than that."

  Wes heard more of the nerves he'd heard to start with, heard too the passion with which she spoke of her father, what she saw as an ability he discarded as coincidental and little more. In much the same way he put together pieces of the puzzle when diagnosing an illness or injury he clicked together the pieces of what was bothering her.

  "So," he began softly, his tone gentler than he knew he had. "Being your father's daughter," he paused when he saw her lips press together and knew he'd hit it on the mark. And then decided to simply take the choice away, sometimes direct was easier than the dance. "Being his daughter are your abilities the same or different than his?"

  Beth looked steadily at the man seated across from her. There was nothing in his tone, nothing in his gaze held steady on hers that spoke of anything other than sincere interest. "I don't know that I would refer to it as an ability exactly," she said slowly, carefully. Still not certain how far or how much she was willing to say. Suddenly something that had simply been a part of who she was, how she thought, how she functioned, was now more. Not just a coincidence, but who and where she came from. Sighing she looked back at Wes, the kindness in his eyes went far to sway her worry. "I've never thought of it as anything other than simply who I was, who I am."

  "And who is that?"

  Beth studied him knowing she'd already made her decision. While the question was a simple one she heard the quiet understanding buried deep within it. If she was wrong she'd know soon enough. And if she was wrong she'd cope. It wouldn't be any worse that what all had been thrown at her in the last year. She might still be struggling to get through but she was.

  She took a sip of the soft drink she'd chosen from the myriad of cans he had stashed in the huge refrigerator that held everything from food for humans to medications for various four-legged species. Then with a deep breath she tried to explain in the only way she knew how. "You had extra servings of the tuna fish bake last night because it's one of your favorites and your mother doesn't make it all that often." At the widening of his eyes she plunged on. "This morning as you were walking over here from the main house one of your brothers made a comment about how much time you're spending at the clinic with that author's daughter. I believe he was referring to me. In response you...ummm...made a rather suggestive gesture at him which he was more amused by than insulted as you had intended."

  "I flipped him the finger."

  "Yes, well that is another way of phrasing it I guess." She ignored the laughter and went on. "In about twenty minutes or so a couple will arrive here with their dog. They've had it since they were first married and are struggling with letting him go. He's older and they know he's getting weaker and has a hard time. They don't want him
to be in pain but neither do they want to make a decision before the right time, the necessary time, especially when it's so terribly difficult to make it to begin with." She closed her eyes and fought against the agonizing despair they felt. When she opened them again she saw his on hers with an expression of absolute understanding as if he saw into her soul and knew the pain that came with the knowledge. "The phone will ring in a few minutes. It will be your mother. She'll want to know if you want her to bring down the leftovers from last night." Beth leaned back, carefully lifted her drink for another sip, grateful she could do so without her hands shaking. Everything else inside her was.

  Wes watched her as closely as he had in the last days and because of that recognized the nerves barely held in check. Saw her pale before she was half way through her demonstration and wondered what the physical cost must be beyond the emotional toil. Before he could come up with anything to say the phone rang. With a quick glance at her he rose to answer it.

  "Hi, Mom." It took almost everything he had in him not to look over his shoulder at Beth. He didn't have to read minds to know she was waiting for his reaction. And from the vibes he was picking up, that any insensitive clod would pick up, she wasn't expecting anything positive. "Actually would you mind sticking it in the freezer so I can grab it on a day when I don't have anything else?" He listened to his mother explain what he already knew about how she would label it and so on. When he hung up the receiver he turned back toward the table but stood where he was and leaned back against the wall next to the phone.

  Beth felt like her nerves were stretched beyond anything she'd ever dealt with before. And she'd dealt with a lot. She stood, rubbing her hands down the side of her legs. She couldn't ever remember her hands sweating before but they did now. "I need to go. I need to..." Even as she turned to leave firm but gentle hands were on her shoulders turning her back around.

  "You need to give me a minute," Wes said softly. "Does your Dad know?" He'd bet his last dollar he didn't. Court and Jake Kyle were good friends. He had a strong feeling that with all that had gone on the last week or so that he would have heard something about it if Jake Kyle had known the extent of how much his genetics, or whatever the hell this was, had rubbed off on his daughter. He would have shared it with Court who would have shared it with him. He watched her face, saw the worry and the tinge of guilt. "No. I didn't think so."

  "He would worry."

  "I can see why." He thought about her parents, how they'd died. "Your parents, did you know..."

  "I saw. And I won't talk about that. Not now. Not ever." She stepped back and got nowhere.

  "Okay..okay." He held his hands up palms forward in a gesture of retreat. "I can't blame you on that one. Hell, I'd feel the same way." Jesus, he thought to himself. What had she seen? Worse, he thought ruefully, when had she seen?

  "I can usually control it, block it," she tried to explain quietly because she understood the sympathy that had welled in his eyes. "Except when it's someone close to me." She closed her eyes, remembered those moments as if it had just happened. Would always remember as if it had just happened. "I could hear my mother."

  "Your father?"

  "No," she said simply. "My mother was like me, maybe not as much, not as strong. We could ....connect," she tried to explain. "She tried to block me when it was happening but it was too strong." As Wes stepped closer she let her head drop onto his shoulder. "I was able to say goodbye. And tell her how much I loved her, would always love her. Everyday, I would think of her and Daddy everyday." She swallowed down the sob that choked her, fought for release.

  "Jesus." Wes couldn't imagine what she'd dealt with. That she continued to deal with. There's no way anyone could ever forget something like that. "Is that why you haven't told your Dad?"

  "Sort of."

  Wes digested that. He could remember using that same phrase with his parents when he didn't want to lie though neither did he want to tell the whole truth.

  "What exactly does sort of mean?"

  Beth laughed. The sound surprised her because she hadn't expected to be able to. At the same time she heard a car driving up, approaching the small clinic building. She stepped back and looked up at Wes. He heard the same and was studying her thoughtfully.

  "I should go." She knew what was to come and didn't want to intrude on what was to be a painful and difficult conversation.

  "Have dinner with me tonight."

  "Here?"

  "No. Like in a restaurant. Food that doesn't come out of plastic wrap. And..." he followed her to the door with a hand on the small of her back pretending he didn't notice her subtle jerk at having done so. "And I promise we won't talk about this unless you want to."

  Because their time was limited as the car parked next to hers she nodded. They would continue this conversation. She knew that too.

  "I'll pick you up at about six." At her nod Wes walked over to the couple who were carefully assisting an obviously aging Golden Retriever from the back seat of their car.

  

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Beth was within less than ten feet from the alley that would take her to the garage at the back of the house she shared with her father. Without any clear thought about it she continued, driving past it.

  She wasn't sure what drove her but she knew the conversation she'd just had with Wes was a turning point. And in more than one way. She still didn't know why she went as far as she had. She knew he had feelings for her. Knew too she had her own. But she hadn't planned on telling him as much as she had.

  And now there was that tinge of guilt riding deep within her that she couldn't leave as it was. Couldn't tell a man she'd known less than a month and not tell her father. She should have said something last night. Or any time this past week. For that matter any time in the months since she had arrived in Burlington still half-blind with grief. There was no fooling herself why she hadn't yet had felt able to talk to Wes about it. If Wes hadn't understood, hadn't been able to accept, she would have been hurt. But nothing like the pain if her father didn't understand. Couldn't accept. Couldn't look at her after without seeing her differently.

  She pulled into the first open parking space she came to once she got close to the newspaper's office building. She could wait, should wait until later that night once he was home. No. No she couldn't. She needed to get it done and the impersonal aspect of his office would somehow make it easier. At least for her.

  She made her way through the myriad of cubicles barely aware of the roar of noise in the huge room. It didn't drown out her thoughts and somehow she made her way to the door of her father's office barely conscious of anything else going on around her including the approach of his friend and partner at the newspaper.

  "Beth," Mark Danner spoke loud enough to be heard over the din surrounding them. "Are you looking for Jake?"

  She turned slowly, her focus shifted in the direction of his voice and the awareness her father's office was empty slowly sunk in.

  "He's been in a meeting and is probably on his way back up here even now." Mark led her into the office she'd been heading toward. He'd seen her the moment she'd walked through the door on the opposite side of the room. Seen too that something wasn't quite right and had called Jake immediately. He knew he was probably on his way back up from the meeting because he’d walked out of it the moment he knew Beth was in the building. Jake hadn't needed to hear something was off from him, the fact she was here was enough.

  "I don't want to interrupt anything," she sighed at her words. She should have called.

  "You aren't," Mark assured her. "I'm surprised he wasn't back before now." He pulled a soft drink from the small refrigerator Jake kept stocked and handed it to her. "Would you like me to call and find out how long he'll be?" he offered casually though he knew there was no need.

  "No. If it's okay, I'll just wait here."

  "There he is now," Mark gestured to the man steadily making his way through the newsroom. With a nod in Jake's direction he
acknowledged his own part was done. "Good to see you again, Beth." He left the room as Jake walked into it, the two exchanging a look that said volumes without a single spoken word.

  "Hey." Jake moved far more slowly through his office than he had on his way to it. "What's up?"

  Beth watched her father settle down, leaning comfortably against the front of his desk. Noticed too the mess on top of it behind him and wondered how he got anything done. "I wanted to talk with you." Only now did she hear the roar of steady noise coming from the huge space beyond the confines of his quiet office. "I should have waited until tonight," she rose, ready to go. For the life of her she had no idea whether it was from cowardice or true regret for having interrupted his busy day.

  "Beth," Jake spoke softly, interrupting her movements with that single word. "You must have thought it was important enough to come here in the first place." He paused, watched her settle back down into the chair across from him, and braced himself for whatever it was that had brought her here obviously against her own better judgment if her nerves were anything to go by. He'd been able to tell from Mark's voice that he too had seen something in her expression when she walked through the outer doors. Something that had led his partner and friend to call him as quickly as his fingers could key in the number. Now he waited for her to settle in enough to begin.

  "When you brought up the whole thing with your cousins..." at his questioning look she elaborated. "The whole deal with how Mary found out you were all born around the same time of day, the time between light and night..."