by Irene Hannon
“Now, as for what you were looking at on the Net. That’s why I need this job. After what I’ve been through these past six years, I know the value of insurance, and I can’t afford COBRA long-term. When Dylan was born, he spent eight weeks in neonatal intensive care. Even though he didn’t suffer from starvation or severe oxygen deprivation in the womb, he had problems. He couldn’t breathe on his own at first, so he was hooked up to a ventilator. Twice we almost lost him. When I was finally allowed to take him home, I was scared to death. At five pounds, he was so tiny that I didn’t see how he could survive. But he did.”
A muscle clenched in his jaw, and he sucked in a deep breath. “That didn’t mean we were out of the woods, however. As I’m sure you discovered, premature children can have vision problems. That’s why he wears glasses. And why he’s already had one eye surgery. I hope that’s the only one he needs. But I don’t take anything for granted anymore.” Bryan’s eyes, intense and raw, held her captive. “Now you know Dylan’s story. And why I need this job. No matter how much you dislike me, no matter how awkward it is to have me around, I ask that you try to overlook your discomfort for Dylan’s sake. To have compassion for my child. In return, I’ll give Nashville Living everything I have to offer until something else comes along. Can you do that?”
Amy was so caught up in Bryan’s gripping gaze that it took several seconds for the sound of knocking to penetrate her consciousness. By the time it did, Heather had cracked the door and was peeking in. As Bryan straightened up, her sister looked from him to Amy, then back again, her eyes widening.
“Sorry. I can come back later. I didn’t realize you were…in conference.”
As she started to close the door, Amy tried—and failed—to find her voice. Fortunately, Bryan had better luck. “Hang on a sec. You were the one I was looking for.”
Once more, Heather’s head appeared around the door. “I was?”
“Yes.” Bryan moved across the room toward her, and Heather opened the door wider, flashing a still-uncertain look at Amy. “I wanted to remind you that I need to pick Dylan up at school. The first day is just a short orientation. Since you weren’t here, I was going to let Amy know I’d be gone a little longer than usual over lunch.”
“Oh. Right. I remember. I had to run up to Tim’s office with some information he needed, and I was gone a little longer than I expected.”
“No problem. I just didn’t want anyone to think I was cutting out early after only a few days on the job.”
He was halfway out the door before Amy found her voice. “Bryan.” When he turned and looked at her, she continued. “About that other question you asked me. The answer is yes.”
Did the tension in his face ease a bit, or was it just her imagination?
“Okay. Thanks.”
Heather watched him go, then looked back toward Amy, making no attempt to hide the query in her eyes. Nor did she hesitate giving voice to it. “What was that all about?”
Busying herself with a stack of copy on her desk, Amy refused to meet Heather’s eyes. “Bryan already told you.”
“Sorry. Not buying. The atmosphere in here when I opened the door was thick enough to cut with the proverbial knife.”
In recent weeks, Amy had taken great joy in watching Heather bloom. The transformation from shy caterpillar to butterfly had been amazing to witness, and Amy had been delighted when Heather began spreading her wings to soar with new confidence. Until today. Today, she wished Heather would revert to her former ways and crawl back into her cocoon the way she used to do when Amy gave her the I’m-the-boss-and-I-don’t-have-time-for-this look. Instead, Heather was holding her ground, watching her sister with a speculative expression. And Amy didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Go back to work, Heather.”
Folding her arms across her chest, Heather gave Amy a smug appraisal. “I get the message. Back off. The question is, why?”
“Heather…” This time there was a warning note in Amy’s voice.
“Okay, okay. But why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Because there isn’t anything going on.”
“Then why won’t you talk about it?” At the expression on Amy’s face, Heather sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. But you know what? You may be able to fool yourself, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well. Whatever just happened in here rattled you. Big time.”
With a flounce of her stylish, newly layered hair, Heather departed, leaving Amy relieved but not at peace. Not even close. For years she’d convinced herself that she’d dealt with the loss of Bryan. That while she might harbor feelings for him deep inside, the man who had stolen her heart once upon a time, in the distant past, had no place in her future. Reconciled to that fact, she’d done her best to go on with her life. It had never occurred to her that he’d reappear. Or that if he did, he’d disrupt her peace of mind so thoroughly.
Heather was right. Bryan rattled her big-time. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it, short of terminating his employment. But his appeal to her sense of compassion, for Dylan’s sake, had nixed that possibility. As a result, she’d best come up with another plan, pronto.
At least he didn’t know the real reason his presence disturbed her, she consoled herself. He thought she just didn’t want a guy she’d discarded years before hanging around. That she still wanted no part of him. And it was better that way. Safer. As long as he kept his distance, she’d be able to cope. Right?
She wanted to answer with a confident “yes.” But if she looked deep in her heart, she knew that the more honest—and unsettling—answer was an uncertain “maybe.”
“How did it go, champ?” Bryan grinned down at Dylan as they walked toward the car.
Dylan hoisted his backpack higher on his shoulder and beamed up at his dad. “It was awesome. Ms. Patterson is nice, and I met a bunch of other kids. Joe and Mark and Andrew. And Greg sits next to me. He wants me to come over to his house Saturday to play. Can I, Dad?”
Opening the car door, Bryan settled Dylan in his seat and verified that his belt was secure before responding. “I’ll have to check with his mom and dad first. Ask him for his phone number tomorrow and I’ll give them a call.”
As they drove home, Bryan didn’t have to do much prodding to elicit a steady and enthusiastic stream of information on the school, the students, the classroom and a dozen other topics. It seemed Dylan’s starring role in the photo shoot this morning had given him instant celebrity status, smoothing his transition to the new school, just as Ethan had suggested. Bryan was just grateful that the first day had gone well. Change was always difficult for children. And it wasn’t a whole lot easier for adults.
As Dylan chattered, Bryan kept half an ear on the conversation while he thought about the recent changes in his own life. If people had told him a month ago that he’d soon be employed by Nashville Living, he’d have laughed in their faces. Amy Hamilton had been the last person he’d ever wanted to see again, let alone work for. Yet it seemed fate had conspired to bring them together again. At one time he would have wondered if perhaps God had had a hand in it, but he didn’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about the Almighty anymore. After the blows life had dealt him, he’d grown angry with the Lord, just as Jonah had. After all, how much was a man expected to take? He’d been dumped by his first love, lost his second love, spent agonizing weeks watching his son fight for his life, lost his mother to cancer…all in the space of a handful of years. If the Lord had shown him any compassion through all of his trials and tribulations, he’d missed it.
Now he had to deal with Amy. He supposed he should have bitten his tongue and kept his thoughts to himself this morning, but something had snapped when he’d caught her surfing the Net, looking for information about his son’s health. What had been her motivation, anyway? Morbid curiosity? Or was she afraid that concerns about Dylan would distract him at work, that he wouldn’t give Hamilton Media his full attention? She’d always put her career first; surel
y that had something to do with her research. She didn’t waste time on things that had no payoff.
A niggling voice in his conscience told him that maybe he was being unduly harsh in his assessment, considering that she’d agreed to overlook whatever discomfort or distaste she had about his presence and let him stay until he found something else. Even after he’d confronted her this morning, overstepping the employer/employee bounds, she’d agreed to wait it out. He supposed he should be grateful. After all, as he’d told her, he needed this job.
At the same time, after only a handful of days at Nashville Living, he knew that the sooner he got out, the better. His comfort level with the situation was no higher than Amy’s, though he thought he’d done a better job masking his unease. To be honest, he’d been surprised by the depth of his discomfort. Although he hadn’t expected to enjoy working with Amy, he’d figured his overall reaction would be neutral. She was just someone he’d known—and cared about—a long time ago. But times had changed. He’d changed. He’d moved on and found someone else to love.
Thoughts of Darlene brought the whisper of a smile to his face. After giving his heart to Amy, he’d never expected to fall in love again. He’d thought his first love had been the only woman for him. Then he’d met Darlene Sweetman in a coffee shop he’d frequented on campus. Though he’d attended the Northwestern School of Journalism on a scholarship, he hadn’t had the most plush accommodations. Since his quad dorm room hadn’t been conducive to study, he’d taken refuge in the coffee shop to do his homework.
At first he’d paid little attention to Darlene as she came and went, refilling his coffee cup, murmuring a few words, giving him a shy smile. Dark haired and quiet, with a sweet face, she’d never been the type to call attention to herself. It had taken a nasty bout with pneumonia the fall of his senior year to make him realize that she had noticed him a lot more than he’d noticed her. When she heard he was ill, she’d brought him soup every day from the coffee shop, often staying to chat. After he expressed concern about falling behind in his studies, she’d volunteered to make copies of his teachers’ notes, increasing her own heavy schedule. Over time, she’d not only caught his eye but won his heart with her gentle goodness and nurturing manner. He’d also been blown away by their compatibility. They’d shared the same values. Both had had a strong faith. Both had wanted to start a family right away.
It had taken Bryan a while to recognize the comfortable contentment he felt around Darlene as love. It had been so different from his feelings for Amy, which had been pulse pounding and exhilarating and exciting. In time, though, he’d realized that those feelings hadn’t been the deepest expression of love, but more like the attraction of a moth to a flame. An attraction that was volatile and dangerous, that could easily burn you. As he’d learned firsthand. His love for Darlene had known no great highs or lows, ups or downs. It had been steady and sure and calm. If she hadn’t delivered quite the emotional punch that Amy had, well…he had chalked that off to maturity, to growing up and mellowing hormones. He had no longer been a teenager with a crush, after all. By Easter, he and Darlene had become engaged.
Bryan had expected to spend a life of quiet contentment with his wife. To fill a house with children who would add joy and fulfillment and wonder to their days. But it had taken three years and several miscarriages before Darlene had achieved a viable pregnancy. How they’d rejoiced when she’d passed the halfway mark, as they’d watched the ultrasound monitor together and marveled at the child sheltered within her! And then things had changed with a suddenness that had left them reeling. All at once, both Darlene and their child had been in jeopardy. Bryan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he recalled those nightmare days. Days when they’d faced terrible choices with unknown consequences. Days when…
“…really work for Ms. Hamilton?”
With a start, Bryan flicked a glance in the rearview mirror. Dylan was looking at him, his face alight with interest as he awaited his father’s answer. Except Bryan wasn’t sure what the question had been. Something about Amy. That much had penetrated his reverie.
“What was that, champ?”
“I asked you if you work for that lady who was at school this morning when the man took the pictures. I think you said her name was Ms. Hamilton.”
“Well, mostly I work for her sister. Ms. Hamilton is the boss of the whole magazine.”
“She’s pretty.”
Unsure how to respond, Bryan remained silent.
“She has golden hair. Don’t angels have golden hair?”
His mouth twisting into a cynical smile, Bryan chose his words with care. “I’ve never seen an angel. But I expect some of them do have golden hair.”
“She’s nice, too. Do you see her every day?”
Not if I can help it. But again, his spoken words were different. “She’s a pretty busy lady. Lots of times I don’t see her at all.”
“She liked my backpack.” Dylan turned to stare out the window. When he continued, his voice was softer. “A lot of kids’ mommies came today to get them. I wish I had a mommy.”
His son’s comment was like a knife twisting in Bryan’s gut. Since Darlene’s mother had died six months before, Dylan had become more and more aware of the lack of female nurturing in his life. In her final months, Doris Sweetman’s failing health had slowed her up a great deal, but she’d been a loving grandmother nonetheless. Dylan felt her loss keenly. Since her death, he’d been looking for someone to fill the empty place in his life. He’d voiced the desire for a mother on a regular basis. And Bryan always responded the same way.
“You do have a mommy, Dylan. We have her picture in the bedroom at Grandpa’s house. She’s in heaven now, but she still loves you.” Someday he’d tell him just how much. That Darlene had died in order to give her son a better chance to live. But this wasn’t the time. Not yet.
“I know. But it’s not the same. I want a mommy who can cook my breakfast and tuck me in at night and tell me stories.”
“You have me. I do all those things for you. Are you saying I’m not doing a good job?” Bryan tried for a teasing tone, though it was hard to pull off.
“You do real good. But it would be nice to have a mommy, too. Then we could be a real family. Maybe someday you’ll find a mommy for me, huh, Dad?”
Marry again? Bryan doubted it. He’d been there, done that. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was get involved with another woman.
“What do you think, Dad?”
“We’ll see.” It was an automatic response. One every kid recognized as noncommittal. And Dylan was no exception, given the disappointed look on his face, reflected in the rearview mirror. But it was the best Bryan could do.
Because both times he’d risked loving, he’d gotten hurt. If he went down a third time, he’d never come up again. And that was a chance he wasn’t willing to take.
Chapter Four
“I heard from Kevin today. They’re going to be able to come in for the party.”
From the twinkle in his father’s eye, Bryan knew the older man was pleased that his eldest son and his family were going to come home from Houston for his retirement celebration.
“That’s great, Dad. And I’m glad they’re giving you a good send-off. You deserve it after thirty-five years on the job. Are you going to miss working there?”
For several seconds his father regarded him across the oak table that had been a gathering place in the Healey kitchen for as long as Bryan could remember. It seemed like just yesterday that they’d all sat around its worn surface, sharing the events of their day, laughing and telling stories as they enjoyed the simple, satisfying meals prepared by Catherine Healey. This was where Bryan had come to appreciate the great gift of family, why he hadn’t wanted to delay starting his own.
Much had happened in the intervening years. And the time had passed so quickly. His mother was gone now, and his father’s thick, russet hair had turned white long ago, as had his bushy eyebrows. At five foot nine
, he wasn’t tall by modern standards, nor was he as trim as he could be. But then, his father had never been thin. Solid had been the way people described James Healey. Solid and kind. Bryan would also add wise to that list, and strong. James Healey’s Killarney-blue eyes, set in a ruddy complexion, reflected strength as well as compassion. But Bryan had always been aware of a poignant melancholy in their depths, too. Never more so than right now.
“No, son. I won’t miss a thing. It was a job. Sure, it was a good one, and I was glad to have it. I wouldn’t want the good Lord to think I’m complaining. It provided us with a nice home and food on the table, but thirty-five years on an assembly line is enough. To be honest, I had hoped for better things when I came here from Ireland. I was going to make my fortune, not spend a lifetime at a car factory. But I was fresh off the farm, without even a high school education, and I learned fast enough that I wasn’t going to take America by storm. Still, I suppose I did all right. I raised two fine boys and was blessed with a wonderful woman who made me feel like I was a success even if I only put headlights on cars.”
Bryan’s throat tightened as he gripped his mug and studied the older man across from him. Never once in all the years he was growing up had he heard his father complain, nor talk about his own dreams. He’d always just done what had to be done, putting his own hopes and needs aside. His dad’s efforts may not have produced worldly treasures, like Wallace Hamilton’s had, but he’d created a legacy far more valuable. He’d instilled in his children a solid work ethic, a belief that they could achieve anything they set their sights on, an understanding of the importance of family and a deep faith. That the latter had fallen into disrepair for Bryan wasn’t his father’s fault, even if it was a source of disappointment to the older man.