Cane gave her a searching look and nodded.
She had been in a daze since dawn. After waking up alone, which was completely her own fault, she’d walked down the hallway with swollen eyes. She’d ruined her eggs and burned her toast. What the hell kind of chef burns toast? Her glass of fresh squeezed orange juice held no taste. Even her morning shot of caffeine did nothing to clear the static in her head. When her sad yet determined-to-recover sister got a good look at her, she’d sent Colby straight to bed, on strict orders to take the day off. Considering what she’d done to her breakfast, it was probably for the best.
But Colby never went back to sleep. She’d lain in bed, watching crap daytime television. She’d bawled at every Hallmark commercial. Chucked her pillow at the romantic love scenes. And after Ellen, she’d finally dragged her sorry ass out of bed. The adorably perky host had reunited a guest with her first love, and Colby couldn’t take anymore. With the walls of Sherry’s house closing in, she escaped to her car, still dressed in her faded cat pajamas. Then she headed here, to the house that had created the starry-eyed girl she used to be.
The girl she wished she still was.
Now, Colby’s slippered feet carried her forward. Cane fell in step behind her, his heavy footfalls echoing on the hardwood. Butterflies swarmed her stomach and tears pricked her eyes when she reached her final destination. “It looks exactly the same.”
The butcher-block island. Dark oak cabinets. And umpteen magnets on the fridge. Cast iron pots dangled from the ceiling, and the aged GET IT WHILE IT’S HOT sign hung over the sink.
They’d gathered here after their father’s funeral, but even then, Colby hadn’t lingered. In the years since she’d left, the handful of holidays she’d actually come home for, she’d made it a point to never stay in this room longer than was absolutely necessary.
Cane chuckled. “Did you expect me to knock it down the minute y’all signed it over to me? Dad would haunt my ass from the grave.”
Skimming her hand along the granite countertop, Colby shrugged. “I don’t know what I expected,” she admitted, somehow feeling more lost than when she’d walked in. “For some reason I just felt like I had to be here.” She glanced around, failing to see any mystical signs from her mom, and sighed. “Sounds pretty stupid now that I say it aloud.”
Frustrated and exhausted, she leaned her back against the cabinets and stared at the mottled tile beneath her feet. Ever since she’d come home, her life had been a constant roller coaster. And she was ready to get off.
Every street corner held a memory. Restaurants in two different states depended on her. Her head chef Matt had earned his promotion twice over since she’d left Vegas, but it was still on her shoulders—along with her family’s legacy. The man she’d fantasized about her entire life, the man she’d fallen head over heels in love with, had actually told her he loved her. And in response, she’d apologized.
Broken didn’t even cover what she was.
“You okay, sis?”
Colby replied with a thin-lipped smile, blinking back tears that insisted on forming, and Cane gave her foot a pointed kick. “You sure about that?”
Remembering her appearance—cat pajamas, ratty slippers, messy ponytail, no makeup—she laughed, only it came out more like a garbled sob. “Not so much.”
Before her next breath, her brother had her wrapped in his big, bulky arms. Burying her head in the rock wall of his chest, she let the tears flow.
He kissed the top of her head. “You know that whatever it is, you can talk to me, right?” She nodded but kept her face tucked against him. “I might not have breasts like Sherry, but I do have two functioning ears. And thanks to a houseful of women, I even know to shut up and not try and fix it.”
Colby laughed through her blubbering. Wiping her eyes, she raised her head and said, “Yeah, I know.”
He smiled. When she didn’t follow that with a baring of her soul, he ran his hands up and down her arms. “You’ll be okay here for a minute? I want to get you something.”
“Sure,” she said, catching the time on the microwave. “But don’t you have to get back to the restaurant?” It was just after four-thirty, and Cane never showed up after five on a Saturday.
“The world won’t end if I’m late once,” he told her, already backing away. “There’s something I need to give you. Don’t go anywhere, all right?”
She nodded, her nose scrunched as he jogged from the room. Something he needs to give me. She didn’t have the faintest idea what it could be, but if it was money, she was going to deck him.
To keep herself from another ugly cry, Colby decided to spend the minutes digging through the drawers. Cane hadn’t changed a thing since inheriting the house. The junk drawer still held a slew of crap best dumped in the trash, and the kitchen utensils remained mismatched and haphazard. For some reason, the familiarity made her smile. She lifted her head, chest feeling lighter than it had all day, and found herself staring at an apron hanging on the side of the fridge.
A checkered apron.
Her apron.
“Got it.”
Her brother’s voice at her ear caused Colby’s heart to spasm. Spinning around, she slapped his bulging bicep. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you freak.”
“Not my fault you zoned out,” he said with a grin. “I’d be shirking my sibling duty if I didn’t take advantage.”
“And we wouldn’t want that,” she replied, shifting her head to the left to steal another look at her apron.
Following her gaze, Cane lifted his chin. “You know that’s been there since you left for New York.”
Now that she was busted, Colby turned around to get a good look, wondering why she hadn’t noticed it before. But then, she knew why. It was on the side of the fridge near Dad’s special alcove, the spot he kept all his prized recipes and spices. During those few short visits home, if she did venture into the kitchen, she avoided that corner like it held the plague. “Oh.”
“You know, Colby, I’m not blind,” he said, shocking her attention back to him. Cane exhaled and ran his hand over his face. “I knew about the tension between you and Dad. And I have a pretty good idea why, too.”
He slid a hunter green envelope from his pocket and held it out to her.
Colby’s hand flinched at her side, but other than that, she was frozen. “Dad’s stationery.”
“I found this in Dad’s desk a couple days ago.” Her eyes flicked to his, and Cane shook his head. He retracted the eerie note from beyond and flipped it over, pointing to the front cover where her name was written in her father’s tight scrawl. Shivers skated down her spine. “No, I didn’t read it. I got my own letter.”
“Did you read yours?”
He shook his head again. “But I can guess what’s in it.”
I bet you can’t.
Cane held the envelope out again, and this time she took it. The tips of her fingers tingled as they touched the stiff paper. Shifting his feet, there was an apology in her brother’s voice as he said, “We should have talked about this years ago.”
Colby’s hand tightened around the missive as fear, anger, and even hope mingled in her chest. Did he know about their father’s secret—her secret? “Talked about what?”
Cane folded his arms and leaned his hips back against the butcher-block island. With a shake of his head he said, “At first, I really did think that school in New York and the job in Vegas were good things. You wanting to get out of Dad’s shadow. Make a name for yourself. And damn girl, did you ever.” The smile he gave her was full of pride, then, it turned to something else. “But after a few years of excuses and you never coming home, and a few more where you did and it was uncomfortable as hell, I realized you knew.”
At that one word, and the emphasis he placed on it, Colby’s knees gave out.
“Oh, God.” She fell back against the counter, covering her mouth with a shaky hand. “You knew, too.”
“Walked in at the end of a phone call
where he was apparently ending it,” Cane replied. “Of course, Dad denied it. But I knew what I’d heard and by that point, I’d already heard the rumors. The woman left town not too long after that, and he came to me full of apologies.” Cane laughed once, and harsh. “I wanted nothing to do with it. I was furious. Beyond furious—I was pissed.”
Colby nodded, knowing exactly how he felt. Except, Cane had been spared the visual.
“But after a while,” Cane continued, “I don’t know, he was still my dad. Mom was happier than I’d seen her in years. I never heard another rumor. It’s not like I ever forgot what he did—I’ll never forget that.” He shrugged his large shoulders. “But I guess I forgave him for being flawed.”
She didn’t have a response to that. Her brother sounded so…healthy. Here she was in cat pajamas and ratty slippers, throwing away the best thing that had ever walked into her life, and her brother was suddenly Dr. Phil.
“Does Sherry know, too?” she asked.
A muscle ticked in Cane’s jaw. “No. Whenever she asked what I thought was going on with you, I played up how busy you were. I shielded her from everything with Dad. Until a few years ago, I’d thought I’d shielded you. Clearly, I failed. And once I figured out that you knew, I should’ve done something. Talked to you about it.”
“And what would that have done?” she asked. “Cane, this was Dad’s fault, not yours. It wasn’t your job to protect me from his mistakes. And no amount of talking would make me unsee what I saw.”
“Maybe not,” he conceded with a soft smile full of regret. “But you would’ve known you weren’t alone.”
Colby squeezed her eyes against his words. He was right about that. For so long she’d felt alone. Before that night at the campground, she hadn’t told a single person about that horrific day. But with Jason, she had. And it felt good to know she could talk to her big bad brother, too.
She went on tiptoe and slung her arms around his neck. “Now I do know that,” she told him, placing a soft peck on his cheek. “And you’re not alone, either.”
Cane wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tight. For a long moment, she stayed there. Letting him hold her, and holding him back. Sharing the hurt they’d had to shoulder on their own. When she sank back to her feet, they shared a look of relieved stress; then as one, their eyes fell to the envelope clenched in her hands.
What in the hell is in it?
“Should I read mine now?” she asked, quite honestly scared of the thing.
“If you want.” He stepped away to give her privacy and checked the clock. “I’ll stick around for a few more minutes in case you need me.”
Colby tried for a brave smile, but he saw through it. Cane squeezed her shoulder on his way out of the room and she waited until he disappeared down the hall. Then, alone in her father’s kitchen, she tore open the envelope.
There were actually two letters nestled inside—one in her mother’s handwriting, the other in her father’s. Halfway through the first, tears back in her eyes and cascading down her cheeks, Cane’s annoying duck call ringtone broke the silence.
“Emma?”
Colby’s head snapped up.
“Em, you gotta slow down. Where are you?”
He appeared in the door, keys in hand, and at the look on his face, Colby started to shake. Clenching the letters in her hands, she tried moving to join him. Her legs wouldn’t respond.
“I’ll meet you there,” he said. “Yes, I’m bringing Colby.” He lifted an eyebrow and she felt herself nod. “We’ll be by your side before you know it. Everything’s going to be okay, Em. Your dad’s the toughest son of a bitch I’ve ever met, you hear me?”
Hanging up, Cane took three long strides and grabbed Colby’s hands. Too scared to bother correcting him for his language—Emma had probably heard worse anyway—she asked, “What? What happened? Where are we going?”
“Northshore Hospital.” He crushed her fingers in his grip. “Jason’s been hurt.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jason’s been hurt. Colby repeated those three words so many times on their way to the hospital that they no longer held any meaning. Panic seared a hole in her chest as images flashed in her mind. He had to be okay.
From the passenger seat of Cane’s truck, she watched the world fly by without seeing. “Emma didn’t tell you anything?” she asked again. “Not a clue about how bad it is, or what happened?”
Her brother sped around a car daring to go the actual speed limit and tightened his grip on the wheel. “No. I don’t think she knew. And I was trying to calm her down.”
Colby closed her eyes, unable to imagine what Emma was going through. “Of course; you did the right thing. I’m glad she knew to call you.”
Cane gave her a quick glance. “I think she was looking for you.”
One never-ending mile later, the hospital loomed into sight. Cane careened around the right turn without slowing and gunned it toward the Emergency Room. Pockets of firefighters already lingered near the main doors, and Colby clutched her stomach as she rocked in her seat.
Would they be here if it weren’t serious?
The moment Cane threw his truck into park their doors were open. As agreed, he headed straight to the front desk while she rushed to the waiting room, searching for Jason’s family. Eyes wide, it didn’t take long to spot the blond ponytail huddled near the windows. “Emma.”
The young girl’s head shot up from her grandmother’s shoulder. “Colby!”
Pushing to her feet, Emma tore across the linoleum floor. Frozen in place, seeing Jason’s mom in tears confirming this was real, Colby could only open her arms. The girl threw herself into them. Her tiny body was trembling, her big brown eyes pooled with fear. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, almost as if she was afraid to admit the truth aloud. “I can’t handle losing him, too.”
Closing her eyes against the fresh stab of pain, Colby tucked Emma’s head under her chin. “You won’t, sweetheart.” She swallowed hard and opened them, her gaze falling on his mother. “You won’t.”
Emma’s skinny arms tightened around her waist as she began sobbing in earnest. Running a hand over the girl’s ponytail, she leaned down and pressed her lips against the top of it. A new batch of tears pricked Colby’s eyes. This girl owned her heart.
Blinking the moisture away, she hoarsely asked Sharon, “Have y’all heard anything?”
“Not much.” His mother’s lips tipped up in a quivery smile. “One of Robert’s friends at the station called as soon as it happened, but all he said was to come here. Robert’s finding out what he can.” Glancing at her granddaughter in Colby’s arms, her eyes filled with remorse. She lifted a rosary-wrapped hand to her mouth. “Emma heard him on the phone. She refused to stay home. We didn’t know what to do.”
Colby nodded, understanding.
Keeping a firm grip around Emma, she walked them back to the empty chairs near Sharon. Hands interlocked, Emma squished beside her in one chair, and the three of them sat in silence, waiting. On the wall-mounted television, the five o’clock news began, and Colby’s shoulders locked with dread. Would they show footage of the fire? Could she watch if they did?
Movement just outside the waiting room stole her attention. Her brother had stopped in the hallway; his dark head huddled with the Chief’s. The man looked as though he’d aged ten years since she last saw him. And Cane’s hair, which always defied grooming, stood on end more than normal. His jawline clenched and his gaze shifted to Colby. Time stopped.
“What did you hear?”
She hardly recognized the voice as her own, but somehow it carried over the squeak of soles and the pages over the intercom. The men exchanged a look, and then trudged forward.
Rigid lines etched both their foreheads. Cane’s hands were buried deep in his pockets. Although she was sure they walked normally, it felt as if they moved in slow motion. When the men came to a stop in front of her, pinpricks of pain pierced the back of Colby’s hand. She glanc
ed down and saw the tips of Sharon’s fingernails embedded in her skin.
“There was a backdraft in the attic,” his father said with obvious reluctance, reaching out to stroke Emma’s cheek. “The first-floor ceiling collapsed, and Jason was inside.”
A wave of vertigo almost sent Colby to her knees.
“Debris struck him in the head and knocked off his mask,” he continued. “Jason was unconscious when the crew found him, but he was awake before they left the scene, and he was moderately responsive.” Looking each of them in the eye, he said, “That’s a very good sign. We’ll know more when they finish their tests.”
At the man’s optimistic smile, the vise-grip crushing Colby’s chest lessened a fraction. Taking a shallow breath she asked, “Was anyone else hurt?”
Her brother ran his hand over his jaw. “The explosion picked up one of Jason’s men and threw him into the street. Glass got him pretty good, and he fractured an ankle. The doctors are taking him back for tests just in case.” Cane tilted his head, indicating a young woman seated two rows over who looked as scared and lost as they did. “That’s Michael’s wife.”
A pulse of kinship passed between them as Colby locked eyes with the firefighter’s wife.
Beside her, Emma squirmed. Wrapping her arms around her legs she asked, “How long until I can see Dad?”
Colby turned to the Chief, wanting to know the same thing.
“It’s probably going to be a while, peanut.” His bushy eyebrows drew together as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He sent Colby a weighted look and said, “But you know, I saw a McDonald’s up the road. I’m sure you’re getting hungry about now.”
Colby got the message. “Really?” she asked, feigning enthusiasm. Honestly, the last thing she wanted to do was leave. Or eat. She wanted to stay right where she was, all night if she had to, until she saw Jason with her own eyes. But he wouldn’t want his daughter sitting out here, waiting for hours, scared to death. Colby didn’t want that either.
Taking the keys from Cane’s outstretched hand, she nodded at Sharon’s smile of gratitude. She pushed to her feet and said, “I could go for some fries about now. Maybe a Big Mac. What do you say, Em? Uncle Cane has my number. He’ll call the second they hear anything.” Emma pinched her bottom lip between her fingers, and Colby tugged on her elbow. “You’re not gonna make me eat by myself, are you?”
Taste the Heat Page 18