by Lisa Bingham
Bronte wasn’t sure if the girls heard her or not. The door slammed and they disappeared inside.
“Are you still worried about Lily?” Jace asked, taking Bronte’s hand.
Bronte grimaced. “She’s had some good days, thank goodness. But I’ve made an appointment with a pediatrician next week, and I’m hoping she can arrange a counselor.” She sighed. “I finally came to the conclusion that Lily needs an expert’s help. Luckily, my health insurance will be in effect by then. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if Barry hadn’t come by after school every day. I think she’s been mulling things over with him, but I’m still clueless about what’s going on in her head. When I talk to her, she just changes the subject.”
Jace squeezed her hand. “She’s lucky to have such a loving mom.”
Jace’s comment caused her throat to tighten with emotion. Uncaring of the fact that her children could emerge, Bronte leaned forward to kiss him. When their lips touched, a familiar warmth flooded into her extremities.
“Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow?” she asked when they parted.
He smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Burgers, steaks, or roast beef? Your brother said he left some meat in our freezer.”
“The kids would probably rather have burgers.”
She nodded. “I’ll pick up some buns, make a couple of salads, and slice up some potatoes for french fries.”
“They’ll love that.”
He remained close, so close that she was able to brush her thumb over his lips.
“I might not be able to stop by earlier in the afternoon. I’ve got some things to get done for Annie’s open house.”
“Do you need any help?”
Did she need any help? That wasn’t the response that she would have received from Phillip. For the first time, Bronte realized how comforting it was to have someone willing to share some of her burdens.
“If I do, I’ll let you know.”
*
JACE wasn’t the sort to spend a whole lot of time in front of the mirror. Most days, if his clothes were clean and he could find his hat, he didn’t bother with much more. But the next night, he couldn’t help checking and rechecking. He’d shaved carefully, splashed on cologne, donned his churchgoing Justin boots and a crisp white button-down shirt—he’d even ironed his jeans, for hell’s sake. Yet, as he slid into a jacket, he found himself looking at his reflection again.
Tugging the sleeves over his cuffs, Jace realized that his nerves were as jangly as if he were about to go on a first date. He’d probably spent more time primping tonight than he had the whole rest of the year.
But even as he grimaced at his efforts, he knew the preparations had been necessary. It might not be his first meeting with Bronte, but he did want to make the right impression on her girls. The few stolen meetings they’d been able to have weren’t nearly enough. Jace wanted the opportunity to court her openly.
Court.
Was that what this was? A courting?
For some reason, the antiquated term stuck in his brain like a burr. He’d dated many women—not as many as Bodey’s wild record—but he’d had his fair share. But “courting” implied something different. There was a gentleness to the word and a more long-lasting intent. It was what a man did when he was toying with the idea of a commitment.
Commitment.
In the past, Jace had shied away from the word like a yearling colt. But somehow, when he thought of Bronte, the idea didn’t seem so terrifying and restrictive. It seemed … reassuring.
“Whatsa matter? You got to go to the bathroom or somethin’?”
Jace started, turning to find Barry eyeing him inquisitively.
“No, I do not need to go to the bathroom,” he insisted firmly, heading Barry off at the pass. “I was just thinking.”
“You sure think a lot lately.”
Wasn’t that the truth. Jace found himself ruminating far too much about Bronte, about how she tasted, how she came undone in his arms.
“Whatcha thinking about, Jace? You got that funny look again.”
Jace opened his mouth to offer a harmless reply, then stopped when he realized that Bronte’s children weren’t the only ones who would need to be prepared for a possible “courting.”
“I was thinking about Bronte, Barry.”
“Why?” Barry looked alarmed. “She’s not going to change her mind about us coming to dinner, is she?”
“No. I’m sure she’s getting everything ready right now.”
“Then why are you thinking about Emily’s mom?”
Jace sighed, momentarily diverted. He grasped his brother’s shoulders, forcing his little brother to meet his gaze.
“Her name is Lily, Barry. I know you want to give her a nickname so she knows you’re her friend, but maybe you should think of another one.”
“Why?”
“People might think that you’re confusing Lily with our sister, Emily.” He paused before adding gently, “You know. Your twin. The one who died in the crash.”
Barry’s face scrunched up. “That’s stupid. I know she’s not my twin, Emily. My twin, Emily, is in Heaven and you already told me that I’ll see her again someday after I’m really old. Lily is … Lily Emily.”
Jace opened his mouth to insist again that Barry think of a new nickname. But he huffed instead, deciding tonight wasn’t the time for a confrontation. As long as Barry wasn’t confusing Lily with his late twin, was there any harm to the use of the name? A far more pressing problem was what Barry thought about Jace spending more time with Bronte.
Jace slid his hands into his pockets, choosing his words carefully. “Before we leave, I want to talk to you about something, Barry.”
Barry’s expression became suspicious. “What? You’re not changing your mind about going to Bronte’s house tonight, are you?”
“No. I’ve been thinking about Bronte herself. About the way I might want to be more than Bronte’s talking friend.”
Barry’s eyes narrowed slightly as he thought that over. “So’s you want to be a holding-hands friend?”
Jace nodded. “What would you think about that?”
“You made everybody mad last time you did that.”
Jace couldn’t help a grimace of regret. “Yes, that’s true. That’s why I’m going to ask you ahead of time if it’s okay.”
Barry opened his mouth, then whirled and stormed down the hall. Seconds later, Jace heard his bedroom door slam shut.
Well, that went well.
Sighing, Jace followed in his brother’s footsteps, fearing that he might have ruined the night at Bronte’s before it had ever begun. Pausing at the door, he tapped lightly.
No answer.
“Barry? Come on, buddy. I need you to talk to me and tell me what you’re feeling.”
Still no answer.
Jace tried the knob, and thankfully, it was unlocked. Slowly opening the door, he found his brother sitting on the bed, his arms wound so tightly around the stuffed panda that the animal was nearly beheaded. Barry had his back to Jace, but his shoulders trembled and a sob burst from his throat.
“Barry? What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to upset you.” Jace rounded the bed. A huge fist seemed to squeeze his heart when he saw his brother’s face, contorted with tears.
Crouching in front of him, Jace reached to touch his knee, moving slowly as if Barry were a skittish foal. Thankfully, Barry allowed the contact and didn’t rear back, so Jace squeezed slightly in reassurance.
“I would never want to do anything to hurt you, Barry. That’s why I’m asking you first.”
Heaven help him if Jace couldn’t get his brother’s blessing to pursue Bronte, because Jace didn’t know what he was going to do if he didn’t. The thought of not being near Bronte was as untenable as causing his brother pain.
“Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Barry’s lower lip trembled, but he finally took a deep, shuddering breath and swiped at his cheeks with his fist.
That horse has long since left the barn, little brother.
Jace was surprised at Barry’s astuteness. But even though he knew he might be walking into his own execution, he said, “Yes, that’s possible.”
Barry’s eyes welled with tears again. “Th-then you’ll be like Elam and P.D. and you’ll build a house somewheres else and you won’t want to live with me anymore!”
EIGHTEEN
BARRY’S pronouncement slid through Jace like a spear. Suddenly, everything slipped into place. Ever since Elam and P.D. had become a couple, Barry had attached himself to Jace like a cocklebur. He’d become clingy, unwilling to play with friends or enjoy the activities with his Boy Scout group. And Jace, Big Brother Extraordinaire, had chafed beneath the unaccustomed neediness, not knowing its source.
Moving to the bed, Jace hauled Barry into his arms, holding him tightly. Barry resisted him, then threw the panda on the floor and clung to Jace as if his older brother were a life raft in a stormy sea.
“I’m not going anywhere, Barry.”
In those words, Jace knew his decision was made. There would be no extended vacation in Europe, no escape from the routine, no revisiting of his year of freedom.
In an instant, Jace was plunged back to that horrible day when he’d hurried from Salt Lake City International Airport to Primary Children’s Medical Center. He’d been traveling for more than a day. Bad weather had forced layovers and cancellations until he felt as if he’d never get home. But when he’d entered the trauma wing of the hospital, he’d heard Barry’s screams as soon as he’d stepped off the elevator. Rushing toward the sound, he’d burst into his brother’s room in time to see a pair of nurses and a physician trying to control Barry enough so that he could be sedated.
In that instant, Barry had looked up. His gaze had latched onto Jace, and his screams had faded to a plaintive cry.
“Wait for me, Jace! Don’t leave me here!”
Jace had been trying ever since to be there for Barry.
His throat grew so tight that Jace could barely speak, but he forced himself to say, “Elam’s situation is different, Barry. He always wanted a house up on the hill. I remember when we were kids, he would ride up to that spot whenever he needed to think. And Bodey … well, I’m not sure if Bodey knows what he wants, or if and when he’ll eventually settle down.” The words feathered his brother’s hair with each breath, and Jace hoped that Barry was detecting the strength of conviction behind them.
“But you and me, Barry … We belong in the Big House, and that’s where we’re going to stay. This is where we’re most happy. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. This house has seen four generations of Taggarts, and it will see a lot more.”
His brother’s posture eased ever so slightly.
“You know you’re always welcome to stay with Elam and P.D.—especially now they’re getting married. When you’re all grown up, you might even decide you want to live somewhere else. But this bedroom will be yours until you’re a little old man, anytime you want it. I’ll be here, too, waiting for you.”
“W-what about Bronte?”
Jace paused, but knew that he couldn’t lie, even to reassure his brother.
“I don’t know, Barry. It might be too soon to tell. But would you mind if, one day, Bronte and her girls lived here, too?”
Jace hadn’t allowed himself to think that far ahead until now. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he couldn’t retract them—he didn’t want to retract them. Somehow they seemed … right.
“So Lily would stay here?”
Jace didn’t miss the fact that, this time, his brother had used the little girl’s real name. It dawned on him that, when emotions were high, Barry called the little girl Lily, not Emily.
“Sure. We’ve got plenty of space and lots of empty bedrooms.”
“And Bodey?”
“Well, you never know what Bodey is going to do. But he’ll always have a spot here, too.”
Barry drew back. For an instant, Jace was confronted with the image of his brother’s tear-streaked face, too-long hair, and man-boy earnestness. But it was the hope that shone from his brilliant blue eyes that nearly brought Jace to his knees. Then Barry swiped at his cheeks with his sleeve and his expression changed in an instant to eagerness.
“When can they come, Jace? Emily can have the bedroom next to mine.”
His brother’s leap from despair to joy had Jace reeling, but fighting his own emotional whiplash, Jace did his best to head Barry off at the pass. The last thing he needed was for Barry to propose before Jace had a chance to do so.
Propose?
Was that really what he was thinking? Hell, he’d only known Bronte for a few short weeks. Let’s face it, dating her would be complicated enough with her children, Barry, and their crazy work schedules to contend with.
But once again, the idea didn’t scare him nearly as much as he’d thought it would.
He jumped up to catch Barry by the arm. “Don’t be saying anything to Lily yet, Barry. These things take time—months and months, sometimes years. I think Lily needs a chance to get used to Bronte and I becoming holding-hands friends first, don’t you?”
Barry considered the idea, then nodded.
“So this is a secret between you and me, okay?”
“I thought it was bad to keep secrets.”
Hell.
“It’s not so much a secret as a surprise. We have to wait until the right time to tell them.”
Barry grinned widely. “I love surprises!”
“I bet Lily does, too. So we’ll wait until it’s time, okay?”
“When will it be time?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
“Yes!” Barry clapped his hands and did a victory jig.
A glance at his watch made Jace realize that they were running late. “Get in the bathroom and wash your face and hands, Barry. We’ve got to get going. I need to stop in town before we go to Bronte’s and we’re already behind schedule.”
“Why are we going to town, Jace?”
“I need to get some flowers.”
“We got flowers in the lawn, Jace.”
Jace grimaced, realizing Barry was referring to the crop of dandelions that had sprouted in the yard. Not for the first time, Jace wondered why other ranchers had found success in having goats tame the weeds, while Barry’s pygmy goat, Bitsy, would only eat chips and candy corn.
“That’s true, but I need some special flowers. Pretty ones.”
“Why do you need flowers, Jace?”
He clapped his brother on the shoulder, leading him out in the hall and steering him toward the bathroom. “Because when a lady invites you to dinner, you bring her a gift. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
Barry nodded, then ran ahead of him. “Okay!”
Ten minutes later, Jace waited in the truck, impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He honked the horn twice, then shouted out the window, “Barry! Let’s go!”
To his surprise, instead of bursting out of the back door, Barry ran around the side of the house, clutching a mason jar in one hand and a fistful of dandelions in the other.
Jace leaned across the seat to open the door for him and Barry quickly scrambled inside.
“What’s that?” Jace asked, gesturing to the items Barry held.
“You said we have to bring a present when we get invited to a girl’s house for dinner, but you forgot that there’s three girls that live there. So we need three presents.”
Looking more closely, Jace saw that the mason jar held one of Barry’s most prized possessions. Inside was a portion of a milkweed branch. Last fall, Barry had spent a whole day watching a caterpillar fashion a chrysalis to the slender stalk. Since then, he’d kept it warm and safe, checking it every day
to see if there were signs of the butterfly that would emerge. Jace knew that jar was more precious than gold to his brother.
“Are you sure you want to give your caterpillar away? You’ve been taking care of it for a long time.”
Barry nodded. “Lily has a new room and Bronte said she has a quilt with flowers and butterflies on it. I’m thinking she’d like a real butterfly, too. Maybe it will cheer her up so’s she’s not sad anymore.”
Jace had to swallow hard against the lump of emotion that his brother’s selflessness inspired.
“Has she said anything to you? About why she’s sad?”
Barry offered him an odd look, one that made it clear that he wondered how much he could say to Jace without betraying a friend’s confidence.
“Is she sad that her mom and dad got a divorce?”
Barry shrugged noncommittally.
“It’s okay if you tell me, Barry. Bronte’s trying to find a way to help Lily, but she can’t do that unless she knows what’s worrying Lily. She’d really appreciate it if you’d let her know what’s on Lily’s mind.”
Barry considered that idea, then slowly offered, “She’s sad about the divorce. But mostly, she’s worried about the summer.”
“She doesn’t want school to get out?”
“Oh, she wants school to get out. I don’t think she likes her class very much. She says they don’t color very often.”
“Then why is she worried about summer?”
Barry shrugged again. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me.”
Jace made a mental note to pass the information on to Bronte. Maybe she would understand.
“So the dandelions …”
“They’re for Kari. I know you said that we needed pretty flowers, but I don’t think she wants the same ones as Bronte. So I picked these. I figured she wouldn’t mind they were dandelions because she’s kinda ornery.” He lifted them to his nose and sniffed. When he lowered them again, there was a dusting of yellow from the pollen. “But they don’t smell so good.”
Jace laughed and reached to brush the golden powder from the tip of his brother’s nose. “How about you leave those here and we’ll find something else in town to bring her.”
Barry beamed. “Good idea!” He tossed them out the window, then reached to pull his seat belt into place. “She probably wouldn’t like dandelions anyway. She doesn’t seem to like much of anything ’cept her phone and Tyson.”