Arms of Promise

by Crystal Walton

  “Sir.” Evan returned the firm handshake.

  “Good to see you again.”

  “Likewise.”

  Mom’s Irish Setter hobbled in on arthritic legs with his impossible-to-turn-down brown eyes scouting the tabletop.

  “Aye, Hunter.” Ms. Riza fanned her dish towel at him. “Shoo. Out of the dining room. Go on.”

  Megan released Anna’s hand and scurried over to him. On her knees, she rubbed Hunter’s face, red hair going everywhere. High-pitched laughs trailed each sloppy kiss to her cheek.

  Evan leaned close enough to Anna to whisper. “Looks like she just found a new best friend.”

  One of the many childhood experiences she deserved to have. Warmth from seeing Megan so full of life and joy spread across Anna’s chest and sprawled into a smile.

  Ms. Riza didn’t seem to miss it. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” She patted Anna’s arm. “There are hors d’oeuvres in the kitchen. The main course will be served after the tree trimming,” she called behind her while prodding Hunter and Megan into the living room.

  Mark tipped back the last of his drink and jutted his empty glass at the kitchen. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He strolled around the table.

  Reese arched a brow at her husband and rubbed a hand over the silky fabric covering her belly. “Seriously, guys, you better get in there before it’s all gone. And be sure to have some champagne for me.” She snagged her water goblet as she turned. “Just don’t tell me how good it is.”

  Alone with Evan and Dad, Anna dawdled in front of the table. A blast of heat from the ceiling vent stirred another round of awkward silence throughout the room.

  Did seeing Evan catch him off guard, or did this have to do with the last argument she’d had with him? Either way, couldn’t he drop it, just for the night?

  She folded her hat back and forth enough times to perforate it down the middle, trying to think of something to say.

  Dad pressed off the back of the chair he’d been leaning against and gestured toward the kitchen. “Please. Help yourself. I need to take care of a couple things in the office first.”

  Evan’s stance relaxed once the whoosh of Dad passing by settled.

  “Sorry.”

  He stared at the shirt cuff he was unbuttoning. “For what?”

  “For that.” Anna waved between the two doorways her family had just exited.

  His lips thinned as he rolled up his sleeve. “It’s nothing less than expected.”

  Did he really think that? “Evan—”

  “Shall we?” He splayed a hand toward the kitchen.

  The decorative mirror on the wall caught a flicker of her reflection. She choked back a grimace. “Um, actually, you go ahead. I’m gonna run upstairs for a sec.”

  He studied her, always reading between the lines.

  “It’s nothing. I just want to change before we eat.” And tame this massive rat’s nest of hair. She shouldn’t have worn a hat today.

  A clank from the kitchen drew Evan around.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Anna headed into the entryway, swiped her bag from the floor, and made a beeline upstairs.

  At the top of the steps, she slowed around the banister. The attic door’s cord swung in front of the vent. Memories trickled over her until a dim light fanned across the carpet from Mom’s study.

  A pull Anna could neither explain nor ignore drew her to the door that’d stayed closed for most of the last five years.

  Inside, the subtle fragrance of vanilla scented candles and the faintest smell of acrylic paint triggered such specific memories, she could almost feel the paintbrush in her hand.

  Dad left the room exactly as Mom had it—easel propped open in the corner beside a bay window, a slew of scrapbooks lining a bookshelf above a daybed, Anna’s old dance uniforms sprawled across a sewing table on the left. All of it here.

  Except for Mom.

  Anna traced her fingertips over an unfinished project lying in the glow of the streetlight.

  Unfinished. No notice. No preparation. No chance to say good-bye. Life had stopped that night. And somehow, Anna’s world was supposed to carry on as if it hadn’t.

  Her knees found the soft berber carpet. The same burning sensation from the hospital seared around the hole in her chest.

  A week before she died, Mom made Anna promise to pursue her dreams without losing herself. Almost as if she’d worried she wouldn’t be around to help. “I’m trying, Mom. I swear. Don’t give up on me yet. Please.”

  Metal jingled behind her right before Hunter’s wet nose nudged its way to Anna’s cheek. She held him down by the collar. As if there were any point. He slobbered her face, anyway.

  “Okay, boy. I missed you, too.” A soft chuckle chased away the tears. Anna sat back on her heels and ran her hands down his floppy ears. “We gotta be strong, though, buddy.” For Mom and Evan both.

  Hunter tilted his head, tongue out. He didn’t need a voice to let her know he understood. His round brown eyes held enough memory of Mom to make Anna’s heart weep all over again.

  “No sadness tonight. Deal?”

  He rose when she did and wagged his tail expectantly.

  Smiling, she patted her leg. “C’mon.”

  Hunter moseyed into her old bedroom, probably to escape under her bed away from all the activity rumbling downstairs. Hard to blame him.

  In the bathroom, Anna changed into her newest pair of dark jeans and a cozy scoop neck sweater. Mom always told her red brought out the color in her cheeks. As if she ever needed much help with that.

  A quick touch-up to her makeup made a world of difference. Her hair, however, might be beyond rescuing. If she could patent some way to tame static electricity during the winter months, she’d never have to worry about another unpaid bill.

  She rummaged through her bag for the bottle of Miracle Leave-In Mist that Reese had given her for her birthday. “You better live up to your name, Wonder Bottle. That’s all I gotta say.” She spritzed it over her hair and worked it in with her fingers.

  After snapping on a pair of dangling earrings for a finishing touch, she smoothed out her sweater. At least she looked presentable. Maybe even attractive? She hoped. This might be one of her last nights with Evan. Time was running out.

  Leaving her bag for later, she ambled down the steps and into the kitchen in her socks.

  Beside the fridge, Evan looked up and stared, wide-eyed. The Coke he was pouring ran over the top of his cup. He held it away from him, huffing something under his breath.

  Anna scurried over to grab a rag from the sink.

  “I’ve got it.” He tore off a paper towel and bent down at the same time she did.

  Another open gaze lingered over her features and fanned a tingle of self-awareness through her. She curved her hair over her shoulder. “What?”

  Mopping the towel around in mindless circles, he blinked but didn’t look away.

  “Is my hair still a mess? I tried to fix it. And I probably should’ve worn a dress like Reese, but—”

  “Bells.” Evan set a solid hand on hers and lifted his gaze so slowly, her heart raced in his pause. “You’re beautiful.”

  Enough to see her as more than a friend?

  “Just like her mama.” Ms. Riza hurried around the corner on a path to the stove. She flipped on the light and peered inside at a dish of what looked like sweet potatoes. “I always knew one day you’d figure that out, Mr. Evan.”

  Apparently, the entire household was short on filters.

  Heat soared up Anna’s face, clear past her hairline.

  Ms. Riza sent a completely unassuming glance from them to the spill on the floor and waved them off. “Go have fun. I’ll take care of this.”

  “No, it’s my mess.” Evan tossed the sopping paper towel into the trash and rose to grab another one.

  “Out of my kitchen. Both of ya.” Ms. Riza marched them backward to the edge of the tiles, her smile betraying her firm expression.

 
“Yes, ma’am.” Palms raised, Evan tossed Anna a knowing glance.

  He didn’t have to prod. She knew better than to get Ms. Riza on a roll.

  Down the hall, Anna leaned a shoulder against the doorway leading into the living room. Reese sat beside Mark on the ottoman in front of at least five tubs of Christmas decorations she’d already started sorting through. Dad lounged in his Lazy Boy with a mug of coffee while Megan hustled Mr. John in a game of pool.

  “Aww.” Reese lifted up a handful of white snowflake decorations Mom crocheted back when they were around Megan’s age. “I’d almost forgotten about these.”

  Evan and Anna joined her in front of the massive pine Dad had set up in the corner of the room. The biggest and best—Dad’s style all the way. At least they got to temper it with Mom’s softer influence.

  “I can’t believe you still have this.” Evan lifted a round piece of wood they’d cut from the base of one of their Christmas trees ages ago. He’d sanded and stained it, so proud of the little art project Mom had prompted. Clutching his strong hands around it now, he ironed out another indecipherable look from his face.

  “You made it for me. Of course I still have it.” Anna glided a thumb over the carving. A. M. + E. O. Friends Always. It was as true now as it had been when they were thirteen. He was a part of this family. A part of her.

  No matter what happened after tonight, she’d always have that. But she couldn’t stop herself from hoping for more.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simmer

  Other than the fire’s slow simmer and the faint background noise coming from the TV, the Madison house had fallen still.

  Evan and Anna should be asleep like everyone else. Instead, they kept riding the coattails of the past, staying up late like they used to as teens. It wasn’t fair to either of them to pretend things were the way they’d been then. But right now, Evan wasn’t ready to let the moment go.

  He could hardly look away from her. Propped up against the base of the couch, Anna stared into the flames. The soft glimmer trickling over her toned muscles tantalized him the same way everything about her had tonight.

  Evan groaned inside. Her vulnerability with him these last forty-eight hours had made things hard enough. But being back here together topped it off. His willpower hung by a thread. Craning his head back, he closed his eyes.

  She’d said herself she was overly emotional right now. He had to be careful.

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting sleepy, Gramps.” Anna nudged her shoulder into his and hiked up a brow.

  He knew that look. Had seen it dozens of times. Another couple of minutes, and she’d get her second wind for the night. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken that long nap after dinner.”

  “C’mon, it’s Thanksgiving.” She squinted at the clock on the wall. “Okay, technically, it’s already Black Friday, but still. We should be having fun.”

  It’d be a lot easier if fun didn’t include torturing himself.

  Anna crawled over to the brick fireplace, added two more logs, and yanked her hand back. “Ow.”

  “You burn yourself?”

  “No.” She lowered her finger from her mouth. “Splinter.”

  He reached into his pocket. “Let me get it.”

  “A Swiss Army knife?” A lopsided grin overrode her cheek. “Don’t you think that’s a little cliché, Sarge?”

  Cupping a hand under hers, he dished her expression right back. “Thought I was supposed to be the one with all the jokes.”

  “Guess you must be rubbing off on me.”

  His brow slanted. “Can I have that in writing, ma’am?”

  “Shut up.”

  He opened the knife, and she recoiled like he was about to drive the blade through her palm.

  “You kidding me? I’ve seen your toes after some of your pointe classes. You push your body through levels of pain that’d make grown men cry. And you’re freaking out over a tiny splinter? Give me that hand.”

  She held in a breath until she must’ve given up trying to think of a comeback. The air seeped out of her tight lips. “Not all of us are big, tough Rangers, you know.”

  “You’re tougher than you think.” He held her still to guide the tiny shard of wood out of her skin. A quick upward glance met an open appraisal fixed on his face. “What?”

  Without releasing his eyes, Anna brought her thumb to his cheek and gently traced the indent left from a close combat fight. “New scar.” A note of sadness tainted her words. “It’s too bad life can’t be like our make-believe games in the attic. Always the heroes. Never walking away with a mark from the enemy.”

  The pensive look on her face sawed through overlapping layers of yearning and honor. Evan lowered her hand from his cheek and dug inside for a teasing tone. “I thought battle scars were supposed to be sexy.”

  “Only if you know how to rock ‘em.” She rolled up her T-shirt sleeve and pointed to a chickenpox scar she’d earned in the fourth grade. “See this? It was a close call, but I made it out alive.” She winked. “Sexy, right?”

  As if her infectious laughter weren’t enough on its own. “Very.”

  A flicker of doubt shadowed her expression.

  Hunter trotted into the room before Evan could assure her. Beside the Christmas tree, he sniffed the air and scratched his ear with his hind leg, red fur floating all around.

  Evan stifled a laugh, picturing Ms. Riza going crazy earlier making sure no dog hair ended up in any of the dishes. She should be thankful she didn’t have a cat to keep off the table. That reminded him. “Is Mrs. Santos watching Bailey?”

  Anna shook her head. “I saw her light on this morning, but I never got a hold of her. It’s just one night, though. I left out extra food. Bailey will be fine.”

  Hunter lolled beside Anna with a heavy sigh.

  Staring into the fire again, she ran the dog’s wavy ears between her fingers while rubbing one socked foot over the other.

  Evan couldn’t help grinning. Right in front of the flames, those suckers were still probably freezing cold. At some point, the girl seriously needed to get her circulation checked.

  His inward laugh tapered at the sight of her sobered expression.

  “I hope Megan had a good time tonight.”

  That’s what had her lost in thought? “It’s on her top ten list.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.” Evan leaned an elbow against the brick ledge beside them. “She told me herself when I tucked her into bed earlier.”

  The contented glow beaming over Anna’s face dissolved as fast as it came. “I hate thinking of her mom being alone on a holiday. She looked bad when we stopped by, didn’t she?”

  “Going through withdrawals can get pretty ugly. It’s probably a good thing Megan’s not there to see it.”

  “Withdrawals?” The pieces visibly fused together. Anna face-palmed herself. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” She scrambled over to the couch for her cell. “We shouldn’t have left her. I mean, what if she needs to go to the hospital. Or—”

  “Relax, I already called Harris.” Evan scooted toward her on his knees. “He checked on Heather earlier and has someone scheduled to stop by in the morning.”

  Anna gawked at him.

  “Why are you looking at me like you’re shocked?”

  “I thought I was supposed to be the one with all the sympathy.” The corner of her mouth hiked to the left the way his had when he’d said he was supposed to be the one with all the jokes.

  He pressed his tongue against his cheek. “Guess you must be rubbing off on me.”

  She shook her head. “You’re something else, Evan O’Riley. You know that?”

  “Just be sure to tell Reese I’m smoother than she thinks.”

  “Sure.” Anna rolled her eyes. “Right after I tell Casanova you stole his nickname.”

  He chucked a throw pillow at her.

  A moment of being caught off guard morphed into a trained reflex. She swiped t
he other pillow from the couch. “Oh, you don’t want to start this, Sarge.”

  Not with that look on her face. He knew where this was going. He clambered to his feet and backed up, about to turn.

  “Uh-huh. You better run.”

  A two-second head start didn’t help.

  In the kitchen, Anna cornered him beside the fridge and clobbered him with both pillows at once. He dodged a second swing, scooped her up at the waist, and reversed their positions. He pinned the pillows to the cabinets with his knees.

  Relenting, she released them and squirmed to break free. Not happening. He gripped the counter on either side of her. “Where ya going?”

  Laughter bubbled up. “Don’t think you won.” She braced her palms against his stomach, and her sassy grin turned to something else. Something that drilled into the center of his chest and latched on to the nerves spiraling in every direction of his body.

  Hunter’s nails clinked on the hardwood floor and kick-started Evan’s breathing again. He let go of the counter, releasing the pillows and a situation he shouldn’t have put them in.

  Anna studied his face as though trying to interpret his reaction.

  But the second he stepped back, she hustled toward the opposite end of the counter. “You know what we need?” she said way too quickly. “Life cereal.”

  What? Where’d that come from?

  She withdrew two bowls from a top cabinet and stalled in front of the counter with her back toward him. “Like old times.”

  Back when he didn’t try to cross any lines.

  He warded off the effect she left on his voice. “We’re not twelve anymore. I doubt Ms. Riza keeps kids’ cereal on hand.”

  “She knew we were coming. She bought some. Trust me.” Rifling through a bottom cabinet, Anna gave a satisfied grunt. “See?” She swiveled around with the white box in hand.

  Evan nodded in concession while she fixed two bowls.

  Crunching noises infiltrated the thick silence he’d inadvertently created between them. She ran her toe along the grout between the tiles, looking lost in thought.

  He should say good night right now, walk away. Instead, he soaked in the sight of her under the warm light above the oven. Hair wound up in a mess on top of her head, cropped pajama pants exposing her dainty ankles, the tip of her upside down spoon resting against her bottom lip.