by Irene Hannon
“Let me get some paper napkins,” Kevin said.
Raising her head, Amy spoke. “Don’t worry about it. I was just leaving anyway.”
“I don’t think paper napkins are going to help much,” Bryan noted.
Turning to him, Amy saw that his attention was focused on the stain. Which only fanned the flame in her cheeks. As she looked back toward Kevin, she noticed his gaze was fixed on her cheeks. That wasn’t much better. Kevin’s perceptive eyes reflected his years of training as a trial lawyer, and she had the feeling he was seeing far more than she intended to reveal.
Dylan’s face fell. “Do you have to go already?”
Before she could respond, Bryan stepped in. “Dylan, go help Uncle Kevin get some napkins.”
“But he—”
“Now.”
With a grumble, the boy moved off with Kevin. The two older men also edged away, leaving Amy and Bryan sequestered beside the palm. From his speculative expression, it was clear that he was wondering just how much of his conversation she had overheard. Forcing her lips into a bright smile, she decided that escape was her best option. “Look, I think I’ll just head out. Tell your dad goodbye for me, would you?”
When she started to move away, Bryan fell into step beside her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Dad would be disappointed if I let a lady leave a party unescorted.”
After a slight hesitation, she capitulated with a shrug. “Well, we can’t have that.”
She resumed her trek to the door, impressed by Bryan’s manners. Even as a teenager, they’d been flawless. A true Southern gentleman, in the best sense of the word. Kind and considerate even to people he disliked. Like her.
They passed Kevin and Dylan on the way out. “I’ll be back in a minute, after I see Amy to her car. Dylan, stay with Uncle Kevin.”
The disappointed look on Dylan’s face tugged at her heart. She leaned down to his level, resisting a temptation to brush his unruly hair back from his face. Instead, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for inviting me tonight. Maybe one of these Sundays we can have another ice-cream party in the park with your grandpa.”
His face brightened. “That would be fun. Dad might even come the next time.” Then his expression grew troubled. “Except Dad doesn’t go to church anymore.”
Jolted, Amy stared at Dylan. Bryan’s faith had always been strong and sure. Then again, he’d been through a lot these past few years. She supposed the tragedy that had darkened his life could easily have dimmed his faith, as well. Before she had time to digest Dylan’s bombshell, Bryan’s hand on her elbow urged her back up.
“There’s a break in the crowd. This is a good time to work our way through.” His voice was conversational, but the tense line of his jaw told Amy that he wasn’t happy about the airing of his lapsed faith. He remained silent until they stepped outside. “Where are you parked?”
“Right over there.” She gestured to her left. “Thanks for walking me out, but I can take it from here.”
Puzzled, Bryan scanned the section of the lot she’d pointed to. He didn’t see any high-end cars even close to the area Amy had indicated. Just serviceable vehicles, the kind regular people drove. Nothing like the sporty red convertible Wallace had given her for her sixteenth birthday, which had been the envy of every kid at high school. “Which one is yours?”
“The dark blue one.” She started toward it, digging for her keys in her purse. To her surprise, he again fell in step beside her.
When she stopped beside a Toyota Camry, he was more bewildered than ever. “This is your car?”
“Yes.” She withdrew her keys and looked up at him. “Why?” But she already had her answer. His face spoke volumes. All her life, she’d lived the good life: grown up in the finest house in Davis Landing, worn designer clothes, traveled all over the world for vacations and holidays. It was a life few experienced, and one she’d taken for granted—expected, even—during her growing-up years. Over time, she’d learned to appreciate the privileges she’d enjoyed, but even more importantly, she’d learned she didn’t need them. The trappings of wealth were nice, but they didn’t bring happiness. That had to come from inside, from a solid faith and a recognition that the most important things in life aren’t things at all.
Before Bryan could answer, she spoke again, a wistful smile just touching the corners of her mouth. “I gave up red sports cars a long time ago.”
And a lot of other things, too. She didn’t say those words, but Bryan heard the implication. A few minutes earlier, he’d told Kevin that Amy hadn’t changed. Now he wondered. There was something in her eyes—a mellowness, a maturity, a quiet acceptance of the hand life had dealt her—that hadn’t been there before. Or had his memories of her from the past been so vivid they’d blinded him to the present?
With that unexpected and disconcerting thought came a reaction that was even more disturbing. As the golden light of late afternoon gilded her hair, as he recalled its silken feel against his fingers from many years before, he suddenly wanted to reach out and lift a few strands, weigh them in his hand, test whether that, at least, had remained unchanged.
Shaken by the urge, he jammed his hands in his pockets. When he spoke, his tone was more curt than he intended. “Drive safe.”
Ignoring the surprised expression on her face, he turned and strode away without a backward look.
Kevin crossed his ankle over his knee, folded his hands across his stomach and leaned back in the rocking chair. James had offered to put Dylan to bed, and the two brothers had moved out to the back porch, where they’d often spent late-summer evenings just like this drinking lemonade and swatting at mosquitoes as they tried to catch a breeze off the river. “Seems like old times, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Bryan stretched his legs out in front of him and stared at the stars twinkling in the night sky.
“I think Dad had a good time tonight. It was a nice party.”
“Yeah.”
“I was surprised to see Amy there.” When that comment elicited no reply, he continued. “Dad was glad she came. He always did like her.”
“Yeah.”
Bryan’s one-word responses didn’t seem to satisfy Kevin. His brother stopped rocking and leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “So what gives with you two?”
Frowning, Bryan transferred his attention from the stars to his brother. “What do you mean?”
“You come home and go to work for your old girlfriend. Next thing I know, she’s at Dad’s party. Dylan is enamored with her. The evidence suggests that there’s more here than an employer/employee relationship.”
James Healey had always been the diplomat in the family. Their mother had been more direct, a trait she’d passed on to both her sons—one Bryan now wished had bypassed his brother. They were moving onto shaky ground, and he didn’t want to go there. Not after this afternoon in the parking lot. He’d been distracted ever since, clueless about the reason for his odd reaction. And he didn’t want it dissected by one of Houston’s hottest young prosecuting attorneys. “You know better than to come to conclusions based on circumstantial evidence.”
“That’s not all I’m basing them on.”
“Stop being an attorney, Kevin.”
“Okay. I’ll just be a brother.”
Stifling a sigh, Bryan raked his fingers through his hair. That might be worse. “Just let it go, okay?”
Kevin ignored him. “I thought you told me years ago that you and Amy were history.”
“We are.”
“That’s not what it looked like tonight.”
The twin furrows between Bryan’s eyebrows deepened. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you look at Amy?”
“Of course I looked at her. She was only standing two feet away.”
“Did you look into her eyes?”
“Where is this line of questioning leading, Counselor?”
/> “Okay, I’ll cut to the chase. It’s my considered opinion that, without a whole lot of encouragement, Amy Hamilton would be very willing to pick up where you guys left off.”
Bryan stared at him. “You’re nuts.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, you are. She didn’t want anything to do with me years ago. Why would she change her mind now?”
Two beats of silence passed. “Then she’s the one who broke things off?”
A flush rose on the back of Bryan’s neck. He hadn’t shared the details of the breakup with his family back then. And he hadn’t planned to start now. But he’d walked right into Kevin’s trap, revealing far more than he’d intended. He’d sure hate to be on a witness stand if his brother was doing the interrogation. “More or less,” he conceded, with reluctance. “She said she wanted space, that she needed time. I wanted a family, and the sooner the better. Plus, her lifestyle in college wasn’t…it didn’t mesh with my values.”
Once more, Kevin leaned back and started rocking, his face thoughtful. “Maybe she just wasn’t ready to make a commitment. Women don’t like to be rushed. And consider her upbringing—the oldest daughter in the very visible Hamilton dynasty. I suspect Wallace can be very demanding. Maybe she needed a break from family obligations before she committed to starting a family of her own. As for her lifestyle in college—lots of people do things when they leave home for the first time that they later regret.”
Regret. That was something else he’d seen in Amy’s eyes today in the parking lot at the restaurant. He hadn’t recognized it then; now it became clear. But regret about what? And could Kevin be right? Had he pushed too hard when he and Amy were in college? He knew Amy loved her father, but Wallace Hamilton was a force to be reckoned with. Amy had told him herself that the family patriarch could be a hard taskmaster. Maybe she had needed a break from family demands and obligations, a chance to experience life on her terms, before settling down to the obligations that creating her own family would entail.
“Anyway, if you ask me, Amy still has feelings for you.”
Still stunned by his new insight, it took a second for Kevin’s conjecture to sink in. That, too, jolted him. But before he could respond, James stepped through the screen door.
“It took a while to get him settled. He was still too excited from the party to sit still, let alone lie down. But I told him some stories about the two of you growing up, and that put him to sleep in no time.”
Chuckling, Kevin rose. “We were that boring, huh?”
“You were good boys.”
“Boring,” Kevin reasserted with a grin. “I’m heading to bed, Dad. After I call Karen and say good-night to Megan and Daniel, of course.”
“Give them all my love. And tell them I’m sorry again they missed the party. But I’m sure Karen would rather be here than coping with two raging cases of poison ivy.”
“You can say that again. Too bad I had to miss all that fun.” An unrepentant grin flashed across Kevin’s face. “Anyway, I’ll pass on your message. Good night, Bryan.”
As the screen door closed behind Kevin, James claimed his seat in the rocking chair. “It was a fine party. It warmed my heart that so many people came. Even Amy stopped by. Such a nice girl. I’m surprised she isn’t married by now.”
A few weeks ago, Bryan would have responded as he’d done directly to her at his welcome lunch at the office. That she’d always had more important things to do. Since he wasn’t as confident in that explanation now, he remained silent.
“Speaking of marriage, have you ever given any thought to another walk down the aisle, Bryan?”
No question about it, this was a night for surprises. Bryan stared at his father. “You think I should get married again?”
The rhythmic creak of the rocking chair was steady in the still night. “It might be something to consider. You’re still a young man. And Dylan, sure now, he could use a mother. The way he’s taken to Amy…well, it’s a sign that he’s looking for a woman’s touch in his life.”
Amy as a mother figure? It was hard to imagine. Though not as hard as it might have been a few weeks before, Bryan admitted, as he turned to stare out into the dark night, into the shadows where the dim porch light didn’t reach. The little boy did seem drawn to her, and there had been a tender warmth in Amy’s eyes whenever she’d spoken to his son. Still, the notion that he’d consider renewing their relationship was absurd. They had too much baggage, for one thing. Besides, he’d taken a chance on love twice and lost both times. He couldn’t risk that kind of loss again.
Nor could he dishonor the memory of Darlene by going back to his first love. Wouldn’t that somehow denigrate what they’d had? Suggest that he’d settled for second best when his first love had rejected him? In fact, that wasn’t the case at all. He’d loved Darlene with his whole heart. In a different way than he’d loved Amy, but with just as much loyalty and conviction. He would never want anyone to think otherwise.
Yet there were times in the past couple of years when he’d longed for someone to fill the empty place in his heart left by Darlene’s death. Her passing had created a void in his life, an emptiness so crushing that it sometimes took his breath away and made him yearn for the warmth of a deep and satisfying love, for the companionship and comfort offered by a strong marriage. He was human, after all. And as his father had said, he was still a young man.
Redirecting his attention to James, Bryan saw that the older man was watching him with eyes that were warm and wise, as if he could see right into his heart and understood his dilemma. His next words seemed to confirm that.
“I know you loved Darlene, Bryan. She was a fine woman. And she gave you a fine son. But she’s gone now. And I don’t think she—or the Lord—would want you to walk through the rest of your life alone. It would be wrong to waste all the love you have in your heart. You’re the kind of man who should be sharing that love with a family of his own.”
“I have Dylan.”
“That you do. But you have a great capacity for love, son. There’s plenty more in your heart to spread around.”
It was difficult to speak past the lump in his throat. “There’s a risk in loving.”
“That there is. Though it seems worth the taking to me.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“You’ve had some hard days, Bryan, true enough. But think of all the good days, too. Days you wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t opened your heart to love.”
There was no arguing with that. Bryan’s happiest times had all come about because of love. Love for his family, love for Amy, love for Darlene, love for Dylan. Yet even if his father was right, even if he found the courage to pursue another romance, to risk rejection and loss again, it wouldn’t be with Amy. It couldn’t be. Maybe he’d pushed too hard when they were younger. Maybe she’d changed in the years since they’d parted. Maybe, if they were meeting now for the first time, something might spark between them. But as it was, there was just too much water under the bridge, too much history between them.
His father was right about something else, too. Dylan did need a mother. Perhaps he ought to consider remarriage for that reason alone. But his heart just wasn’t in it. “You make some good points, Dad. But I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Close to home isn’t a bad place. Some people wander all over the world looking for answers, only to discover that they were right in their own backyard all along.”
“Are you talking about Amy?”
The older man lifted one shoulder. “She’s a nice girl.”
“What we had died a long time ago, Dad.”
The older man digested that for a moment. “You know, back in Ireland, we didn’t have fancy things like central heat when I was a boy, growing up on the farm. Just a big fireplace. When I was old enough, it was my job to get the peat fire going in the morning. Sure, I’ll always remember those chilly winter dawns, when the grate would look black and cold. But after I stirred up the ashes a
wee bit, I almost always found some embers still glowing. And with a little coaxing, they’d spark back to life. Before long I’d have a nice, warm fire going to chase away the chill of the morn.”
Stories of James’s boyhood had been standard fare when Bryan was growing up, and often they had a point. Like this one. A point Kevin had made by taking a more direct approach, saying that he thought Amy would be willing to pick up where they’d left off, and that she still had feelings for him. It seemed James had come to the same conclusion. But Bryan wasn’t nearly as sure.
“You may be jumping to conclusions about Amy,” he cautioned his father. “Our romance happened a long time ago. I’m not sure there are any embers left in her heart to be stirred, even if I was so inclined.”
Instead of responding at once, the older man rose and stretched. “I think I’ll call it a night myself.” He turned toward the house, pausing after he pulled open the screen door to cast one parting comment over his shoulder. “And by the way, I wasn’t talking about Amy.”
Chapter Six
The jarring ring of the bedside phone brought Amy instantly awake, and she squinted at the digital face of the clock on her nightstand. A few minutes past midnight. Not good. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her, making every nerve ending tingle, and her pulse tripped into double time as she groped for the handset and struggled to a sitting position. Ever since Wallace had become ill, she’d dreaded late-night calls.
“Hello?”
“Amy, it’s Melissa.”
If Amy hadn’t already been sitting, she would have ended up in a heap on the floor. Relief that there was no emergency with her father, coupled with shock that her runaway sister was calling, had rendered her legs useless.
“Melissa? Where are you? Do you have any idea how worried everyone’s been?”
When the only response to her critical, interrogatory tone was a sniffle, followed by a choked sob, Amy forced herself to take a deep breath. Calm down. If you upset her too much, she’ll hang up. And we’ll be no closer to knowing her whereabouts. She tried again, gentling her voice. “Melissa, hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. With everything that’s been going on, I got a little spooked by the late call. Are you okay?”