Aiden wasn’t sure quite when that had happened—but he knew who was responsible.
A petite, green-eyed librarian had changed Aiden’s definition of success.
Changed him.
Because of Maddie, Aiden had called his first family meeting in the history of Kane family meetings. He hadn’t known quite where to start, so he’d followed Maddie’s lead and started with prayer. Being honest with God, Aiden had discovered, had made it easier to be honest with Sunni and his brothers.
He’d told them about Justin and the part Tim had played in the accident. His doubts about God and his value in the family.
Brendan and Liam hadn’t said a word, but the stunned expressions on their faces told Aiden he’d been wrong about that, too.
“It’s not two teams. They’re all wearing red shirts.” Tim, Justin’s brother, had pinched Aiden’s binoculars. Along with Tyler’s parents, the boy had been given VIP privileges: courtside seats on the victory platform and all the lemonade they could drink.
“Red?” Aiden reached for the binoculars as the foursome burst through the wall of smoke.
Liam leaned forward. “Is that...”
“Maddie.”
Aiden couldn’t believe it, either, but there she was, zigzagging through the maze of torches that led to the finish line.
Chapter Nineteen
Pride and fear battled for dominance as Aiden watched Maddie keep pace with Skye while the boys charged ahead of them toward the platform.
“Sorry, folks!” Liam grinned down at the people crowded around the platform. “I was wrong. Fifth place in today’s competition is the Flamethrowers.”
From the commotion on the stage, Aiden would have thought that Tyler and Justin had been in first place. To his chagrin, most of it came from his own family, who swarmed up the steps to offer their congratulations.
Sunni had taken the Owens family under her wing the moment they’d arrived, handing Tyler’s mom, Sandie, a glass of lemonade and his father, Kenny, a thin, spindly-legged puppy, one of the animal shelter’s new arrivals.
“Murphy is a little nervous around strangers,” Sunni had whispered. “Do you mind holding him for a few minutes?”
Aiden had no doubt the “few minutes” would turn into hours, and Tyler’s dad would go home with a new companion.
“We’re going to do this next year,” Tyler had promised his dad.
Kenny Owens looked pleased. He nodded at Justin. “Looks to me like you’ve already got a teammate.”
Tyler nudged his friend. “He’s ditching me to go to college, isn’t that right, Einstein?”
“Right.” Justin glanced down at the man’s wheelchair, and Aiden could practically see him working on modifications so people with physical disabilities could take part in the competition.
“Pssst.” Liam pressed the microphone into Aiden’s hand. “You’re supposed to be congratulating the team, not ogling their sponsor,” he whispered.
Aiden had been admiring, not ogling, but there was no time to set his brother straight.
The rest of the competitors arrived in quick succession, forcing Aiden to concentrate on his duties as MC. By the time the closing ceremony ended, Maddie was nowhere in sight.
Aiden plucked a bottle of water from the cooler on the end of the stage and set out across the yard.
“If you’re looking for Maddie,” Rebecca Tamblin called out, “I saw her over by the Trading Post, talking to Anna.”
Aiden didn’t deny it. Just like he wasn’t going to deny that his feelings for Maddie had changed over the past few weeks.
Sure, he hadn’t seen her since the night he’d shown up at her apartment with the news about Justin, but Maddie was committed to her job. She’d mentioned the used book sale was part of a larger fund-raiser, so it made sense that the week leading up to the fall festival would require a lot of her time.
Now that it was over, though—leaving Aiden set for Christmas and birthday gifts for years to come—he had other plans that would take up Maddie’s free time.
Long walks in the woods. Watching the night sky.
Kissing her under the stars with no interruptions—
“Uncle Aiden! Come and see the puppies!” Cassie and Chloe intercepted him halfway to the house.
“Hey, copper tops.” He went down on his good knee and opened his arms.
The twins hung back.
“Mommy said we can’t hug you because your ribs hurt,” Chloe told him.
“Is that so?” Aiden cocked an eyebrow. “Because I happen to think that hugs make a person heal faster. Should we test the theory and see if I’m right?”
“Okay!” The twins snuggled close, cheeks pressed against Aiden’s chest, tickling his nose with the scent of sunscreen and strawberry shampoo.
Man, Liam was blessed. For weeks, Aiden had been teasing his big brother about losing his heart, but now he understood that losing was entirely the wrong word.
It was more about finding, really. And when a man found someone like Anna—or Maddie—he didn’t lose his heart. He gave it away. Freely. Without reservation.
“I’ll come over in a few minutes to see those puppies,” Aiden promised the girls. “But I have to talk to Maddie first.”
“She’s over there.” Cassie pointed over his shoulder.
Over the tops of their heads, Aiden spotted a slight figure in the distance. But Maddie wasn’t talking to the twins’ mother outside the Trading Post.
She was walking toward her car.
“Hey.” Aiden caught up to Maddie and slid into the passenger side of her car. “I thought you’d stick around awhile.”
Maddie turned the key in the ignition. “I have to change clothes.”
Aiden thought she looked beautiful.
“All the competitors got one of these, and the Flamethrowers wanted to make sure you did, too.”
Maddie looked down at the pin cradled in his palm. “Those were for the teams who finished the race.”
“Exactly.” Aiden bent closer and carefully attached the tiny copper tree to the front of Maddie’s ball cap. Her hair flowed out the back in a long ponytail, and he couldn’t resist toying with one of the “flames” that Skye had painted in her hair. “I like the new look, by the way.”
“Skye promised it will wash out after the sixth shampoo.”
Maddie shifted, putting some space between them, and Aiden’s hand fell away.
For the first time, he noticed the pallor under Maddie’s sun-kissed cheeks, and the beads of moisture glistening on her forehead.
“You overdid it today, didn’t you?” Aiden had been so proud when she’d burst through the wall of smoke, it hadn’t occurred to him she shouldn’t have been running in the first place.
“I—” Maddie moistened her bottom lip with her tongue. “I got caught up in the moment but it’s... I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine, but Aiden knew the perfect way to relax.
“Sunni is one of the judges for the chili cook-off tonight, so the family is guaranteed a spot in the pavilion,” he said. “There’s going to be a folk band, too.”
“It’s Saturday.” Maddie fidgeted with the keys. “My parents are expecting me for supper.”
Maddie. Fidgeting. Now Aiden knew something was wrong.
“Tell your mom she can get a break from cooking and invite them to come with us instead.”
“Aiden...” Something in the way she said his name instantly triggered a feeling of dread. “That isn’t a good idea.”
“Sure it is. I know you said that your parents are a little protective, but don’t worry. I’ll win them over with my dashing good looks and rapier wit.”
“Aiden.” Maddie’s gaze lit on him for a moment, and in spite of the unseasonably warm October afternoon, he went cold all over. “None of this is a
good idea. River Quest is over now and we...we aren’t going to work.”
Had he misread the hum of electricity in the air whenever they were together? The way her eyelashes had drifted shut, the way she’d leaned into him, in the library when they’d almost kissed?
“You’re saying you don’t feel anything for me other than friendship?”
“There’s a...spark, yes,” she said carefully. “But that isn’t enough to build a relationship on. You have to admit we...we really don’t have anything in common. Now that you’re moving around better, you’ll spend time doing the things you loved before the accident, and so will I.”
He loved spending time with Maddie, but apparently she didn’t feel the same way.
Idiot, Aiden inwardly chided himself.
“I’ll keep looking for your sister, though,” Maddie continued, no longer looking him in the eye. “And I’ll let you know right away if I find something.”
Because helping people in the community was part of her job. Aiden’s mistake was letting himself believe that he’d become more than a work project.
“Don’t worry about it.” Aiden resisted the urge to snap the way Dodger did in an attempt to let out some of the pain. “I’ll take it from here.”
It would have hurt less if Maddie had just reached in and pulled his heart right out of his chest.
Hadn’t it been clear from the start that he wasn’t in her league?
Aiden had bared his soul, revealed his flaws, and Maddie obviously hadn’t liked what she’d seen. Now she was attempting to let him down easy with the classic “it’s not you, it’s me” speech when they both knew the truth.
It was him.
* * *
Maddie bumped open the screen door with her shoulder and winced. The muscles she’d pushed earlier that day were pushing back. A hot bath would take away the ache in her limbs, but nothing would ease the weight pressing down on her shoulders.
She’d done it. Told Aiden there was no point in taking their friendship to the next level.
Managed to hold back the tears until he’d walked away.
She could hear classical music drifting from the living room and poked her head around the corner. Her parents sat on the couch, separated only by the enormous bowl of popcorn they were sharing, watching Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire dance in the rain.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Maddie deposited the plate of cookies she’d bought from the bake sale on the table. “I had to put a few things away before I left.”
“Maddie.” Her mom bounced off the couch so fast the bowl of popcorn almost came with her. “We didn’t think you’d be coming over tonight.”
“It’s Saturday.”
Her parents exchanged a sideways glance.
“Yes...but we thought you’d be going to the chili cook-off,” her dad said.
The words chili cook-off should not have created a lump the size of a golf ball in Maddie’s throat. “I never have before.”
And now that River Quest was over, things would go on exactly as before.
The lump got bigger.
“Sweetheart, can you pause the movie for a minute? I’m sure Maddie is hungry.” Tara ushered Maddie into the kitchen. “Your dad and I ate a little while ago, but there’s chicken salad in the refrigerator.”
The thought of food made Maddie’s stomach pitch, but she’d come over for supper, so turning down food would raise questions Maddie didn’t want to answer.
She pulled the salad out of the fridge and caught her mom staring.
“The dye will wash out.” Maddie fingered one of the red streaks in her hair and inadvertently allowed a memory to sneak in.
I like the new look, Aiden had said.
But the dye, like the time she’d spent with Aiden, was temporary. Maddie had to think about the future.
“I was looking at your pin,” her mom said. “Is that one of Anna Leighton’s designs?”
Maddie reached up and touched the tiny copper tree pinned to her hat. “Aid—” She caught herself before saying his name. “Castle Falls Outfitters gave them out to the teams that finished the race. Justin and Tyler thought I should have one, too, because I was the team sponsor.”
“I don’t think your being the sponsor had anything to do with it, Maddie. From what I’ve heard, those three teenagers obviously love you. And—” her mom slanted a knowing look in Maddie’s direction “—it appears that someone else does, too.”
Unbelievable. People were talking about her?
“Aiden and I...it would never work, Mom. We’re too different. He loves to push himself. Take risks.”
“And running through a maze of burning torches isn’t risky?”
Maddie winced.
Her mom had heard about that, too?
“I didn’t overdo it,” Maddie said quickly, attempting to circumvent the gentle lecture she knew was coming before it began. “I know what I can and can’t do.”
Although there’d been times over the past month when the line between the two had become blurred.
“I know you do, sweetheart. And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Your dad and I...we were terrified of losing you. After the surgeries, we were determined to do everything we could to keep you happy and healthy.” Tara hooked a tendril of crimson hair behind Maddie’s ear. “But I’m afraid that somewhere along the way, we didn’t put as much emphasis on the happy part.”
“I’m happy,” Maddie protested.
“I know you are,” Tara said softly. “But I’ve seen a difference in you the past few weeks, and this math teacher hasn’t been retired so long that she can’t spot the new variable in the equation.” Her mom was smiling now. “If God has brought a man into your life who makes you laugh, makes that wonderful heart of yours beat a little faster, I would tell you, Madeline Rose, to take the risk. Love is worth it.”
“I don’t—” Love Aiden, Maddie was about to say before a line from Jane Austen’s Emma ran through her head.
Then I examined my own heart. And there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed.
But didn’t loving someone mean putting their needs first?
Maddie was being honest when she’d told Aiden that she’d gotten caught up in the moment. For a few glorious days, Maddie had actually let herself dream about a future with him.
And then she’d seen the expression on Aiden’s face earlier that afternoon when Anna’s twins ran up to him. Tenderness. Longing.
After his tumultuous childhood, it was no wonder that Aiden wanted—deserved—a family of his own.
A family Maddie couldn’t give him.
Chapter Twenty
Aiden shuffled up the stairs—without the aid of his crutch or the wooden handrail.
He was free. The physical therapist and his doctor had both given Aiden permission to resume his day-to-day activities as long as he didn’t overdo it, an announcement that should have had him celebrating the return to his normal life.
Except for the fact that he was miserable, because Maddie was no longer part of it.
“It’s not Maddie’s fault.” Aiden had reached that conclusion the moment her car had disappeared from sight. “It’s mine.”
Behind him, he heard a growl of agreement.
Aiden glanced at Dodger. “One, I didn’t ask for your opinion. And two, if you keep up the attitude, there’s an empty kennel at the shelter with your name on it.”
Dodger stared at him, bushy eyebrows rising a fraction of an inch. You’re bluffing, they said.
If Aiden didn’t know better, he’d think the dog had actually understood the conversation Aiden had had with Sunni the week before.
She’d swept into the sunroom, a handful of dog biscuits in one hand and a snazzy matching collar and leash in the other.
“Does Dodger h
ave another vet appointment?” Aiden had asked.
“Not today” came the cheerful reply. “Dr. Voss called this morning, and based on Dodger’s latest examination, he’s been cleared for active duty. There’s room at the shelter, so I think it’s time I find this guy a forever home. There’s a new family at church interested in adopting an older dog.”
“A family?” Aiden had frowned. “With little kids?”
“Dodger has never shown any sign of aggression toward the twins,” Sunni pointed out. “Or other animals, for that matter.”
“What about all the snapping and snarling?”
“He hasn’t done any of that for the past few weeks.” His mom had emphasized the first word. “Animals, like people, react out of their pain, you know.”
Aiden did know, but he wasn’t going there. His family hadn’t asked about Maddie since the fall festival, but he’d caught their speculative looks. Probably wondering what he’d done to mess things up this time.
“I don’t think Dodger is going to adjust well to being moved around. They could come over here so I—” Aiden caught himself. “They can meet him.”
After Sunni left, Aiden had found the collar and leash on the table with his cell phone number engraved on the silver tag.
“Come on.” He glanced down at the dog. Dodger wasn’t moving as fast as Aiden, but he was just as determined to conquer the stairs. “If I can do it, so can you.”
Aiden paused on the landing and gave the doorknob an experimental turn with his injured wrist. All he felt was a mild tweak of discomfort instead of pain.
Dodger bounded—bounded!—across the room and launched himself onto the sofa.
“Make yourself at home,” Aiden said drily.
Sunlight flooded the room, and it was obvious the women in the family had been there ahead of him. The smell of freshly baked bread permeated the room. The floor gleamed from its recent scrubbing, and a bouquet of yellow mums, the last holdouts from Sunni’s garden, sat on the coffee table.
The Bachelor's Perfect Match Page 17