His Only Weakness

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His Only Weakness Page 7

by Felicia Breneé


  Heather gawked at Brady. Her eyes ran up his form. A blue and yellow bruise peeked out from his collar. She walked up and pulled the shirt back. “You’re bruised?”

  Brady pulled the collar away from her grasp. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

  Heather tilted her head. “Hank says he shot you.”

  Brady’s eyes darted to Hank, then back to Heather. “It got a little rough last night, but we’re both alright.”

  “He’s a monster! I’m telling you!” Hank shoved Poppy behind him, as if to protect her from Brady. “Call the police!”

  Heather stood between Brady and her family. “Take off your shirt.”

  “What?” Brady smiled awkwardly.

  “Come inside and take off your shirt.”

  “Heather, I’m fine. Hank’s fine, as you can see.”

  “No. I want to see for myself. Brady, come inside and take off your shirt.”

  Brady lowered his head. He stepped in further and unbuttoned his shirt. Heather swallowed hard as he shrugged the starched cotton over his shoulders. She touched the yellowing green impact bruises across his taut chest, stomach and along his shoulders. She turned to Hank. “You could have killed him!”

  Hank’s eyes widened. “Yeah, but I didn’t. He turned into a… monster!”

  “Stop saying that!” Heather turned back to Brady. “You care to explain?”

  Brady’s gaze dropped to Heather’s feet. “It’s true. It’s a family curse, Heather. All the men in my family carry the blood. That’s why—”

  He lifted sorrow-filled eyes to hers. Heather closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calming her own emotions.

  “That’s why when you lost our baby… our son. I was so relieved and terrified. I left because I don’t want to pass this curse on. It stops with me!” He hit his chest with his fist.

  Tears filled Heather’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I-I couldn’t. You would have looked at me like you are looking at me now. With disgust and fear.”

  Heather searched his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

  “Don’t I?”

  “No Brady. You don’t know. I don’t know. And we’ll never know will we, because you never gave me a chance.”

  “A chance. What kind of a chance would you have given me if I told you that I change into a… a—”

  He dropped his eyes to the two little girls who hid behind their mother’s legs. Mable smiled, but Marla looked terrified. He closed his mouth and turned from Heather.

  “Well.” Heather touched his shoulder, turning him back to face her. “To be honest with you, Brady. I probably would have freaked out. But passing on your… family line is no longer a problem, is it?”

  Brady stared at her. “Because you can’t—”

  She lifted her eyebrows in response.

  “I’m so sorry, Heather.” He turned and strode to his truck. She stood on the porch and watched him drive away, until she couldn’t see his tailgate anymore.

  She turned to Poppy, pointing a long trembling finger at Hank. “He’s the real monster!”

  Chapter Ten

  One month later…

  “Happy Birthday, dear GiGi!

  “Happy Birthday to you!”

  The family applauded as 104 candles washed their faces in a yellow glow. Leathery creases wrinkled Daisy River’s cheeks as she smiled. Then she opened her mouth and forced as much air as possible through her lips to blow out most of the dwindling wax candles. Marla and Mable enthusiastically helped their great-great grandmother extinguish the remaining symbols of her many years on the earth.

  Sylvia Greystone sat the rectangular sheet cake on the table and continued singing although everyone else had stopped. “And many more… on channel four… I hope you kiss a dinosaur!”

  Heather and Poppy laughed and precisely placed a large butcher knife into the cake, cutting perfect squares. Carrie Richards, their mother, handed Poppy a serving spatula and placed a stack of dessert plates next to the cake. Poppy carefully lifted a square and eased it onto a plate. Carrie took the piece and put it in front of her grandmother. “Here, Grandma, you get the first piece.”

  “Oh. Thank you, child. It’s so good to have all my girls together. Isn’t it a good thing I lived long enough to see you two get over your foolish squabble?” Her veiled eyes glared at her daughter and granddaughter.

  Sylvia and Carrie hid their eye rolls, but Heather and Poppy smirked, flashing knowing eyebrow-lifts at one another. Their mother and grandmother had called a truce on their decades-long silence for GiGi’s birthday. No one could pin-point what had started the indifference. However, ever since Daisy celebrated her one-hundredth birthday, Sylvia and Carrie contemplated calling the truce, declaring this could be the old woman’s last hurrah on earth.

  This one for sure would be her last. Even though Daisy was a full-blood Karuk native, it was still a big deal for her to live so long. She had been a widow longer than she had been a wife. Sylvia had brought her mother to a retirement community in Aurora, Colorado when she moved to Denver thinking she might last another four or five years. It had been fifteen, and Daisy was thriving. Seems the higher altitude was better for her then the northwest coastlands of California.

  Perhaps the ruse Sylvia had fabricated six years ago about her ailing state was what had started the silent disagreement between Heather’s mother and Grandmother? No one really knew.

  As the Denver Medical Examiner, Sylvia Greystone, too seemed to be destined for a long and active life. At 85, she wasn’t remotely entertaining the idea of retirement. But she was actively training Heather to take her place… just in case she met a handsome chief and decided to take a year-long honeymoon. Grandma’s words exactly.

  It was Heather and Grandma’s little joke. Heather was content working for her grandmother until the great white buffalo’s spirit called her home. She snickered at the thought. Seldom did she think in the ways of her Karuk ancestors. GiGi was the last living full-blood Karuk in Heather’s family. The Karuk language was considered extinct, according to Wikipedia, so perhaps Heather was better off remembering it as a lost time from her childhood, like aluminum Christmas trees and petticoats.

  Heather pulled her phone from her back pocket, looked at the screen, and sighed. Poppy leaned over her shoulder. “Brady still texting you?”

  “Yes.” Heather shoved the phone back in her embroidered pocket. “Ignoring him doesn’t seem to be working.”

  “Ignoring him? You mean to tell me you haven’t answered one single text from him this whole month?”

  “Nope!” Heather slid a glare at her sister through veiled lashes.

  “Is that fair?”

  “What would have been fair,” Heather glanced around the room and lowered her voice. “Would have been me included in the Almighty Brady Armstrong decision to never procreate again once our baby boy died inside me.” Tears choked Heather’s words. “Fair would have been to have the love of my life at my side to console me after…”

  Heather gritted her teeth to stay the tears.

  Today was about GiGi. Not Heather’s past… or her future. To be honest, that day at Brady’s barn, the incredible sex she experienced with Brady, plagued her dreams even more than the dreams she thought were so intrusive before. And now… she really did need to talk to him. But not by text. If only he’d just call her. She’d answer a phone call. Texting was just wrong.

  Poppy shook her head. You’re more stubborn than Mom and Grandma.

  Heather’s mouth dropped open. “Take that back!”

  Poppy giggled and rushed away, picking up empty plates as she went.

  Heather turned back to her GiGI. Colorful gift sacks littered the table, as GiGi rifled through her birthday presents. Cooing over each one and questioning how anybody knew such perfect gifts for her. “Who would think at my age, there’d be such wonderful things I could receive.”

  The door bell rang.

  Everyone turned to GiGi’s door. A rock dropped in
the pit of Heather’s stomach. It couldn’t be…

  How could Brady possibly know where GiGi lived, or that they were having her birthday party at her retirement community. For some reason, all eyes swiveled to Heather. She stood statue still for a moment. Why me? Finally, she stepped to the door and pulled it open.

  “Li’l Dove.” Brady stood there in polished boots, starched jeans, a white starched shirt and a black Stetson hat. His long black hair flowed past his broad shoulders like a waterfall. Heather’s breath caught in her chest. He was gorgeous.

  “I- uh,”

  “For heaven’s sake, Li’l Dove, let the man in!” GiGi hollered from the dining table.

  Heather turned to her great-grandmother. “Did you—?”

  “It’s my hundred and fourth birthday! I can invite whomever I wish!” She pushed her chair back and struggled herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the four-pod cane. Rolling her head in a gesture of welcome, she made her way toward the door. “Come on in here.”

  Brady slid his hat off and stepped across the threshold. “Happy Birthday Daisy! Kipa’k’hau qwa’hapuas, Achwit.”

  GiGi leaned over, laughing, and slapped Brady’s forearm. “Nice try, young man. Do you know what you said?”

  “I was told on good authority it meant ‘Happy Day of your Earthly birth, Wise Mother’.”

  She laughed even harder, causing a hacking cough. She collapsed into an overstuffed chair while Poppy ran to her with a cup of water. She sipped the water and wiped the tears from her eyes. “No. If you paid for that, you got dooped!”

  Brady blushed and stammered. “Well?” A half smile exposed the one crooked tooth. Heather’s insides turned to goo.

  “What does it mean, then?”

  GiGi drew in a deep ragged breath. “You said, ‘Come down, let’s run a race, maternal grandmother’.”

  Brady smiled amongst the snickers. “Well, at least I got the Grandmother part right.” He pantomimed getting set to run beside her. “Shall we race?”

  She laughed. “I always liked you, Brady Armstrong.” She reached out and squeezed his hand, then dug her fingers into the ribbon of muscles along his arm. “Ooo. I see why Li’l Dove is so attracted to you. You handsome hunk of—”

  “OKAY! GiGi, that’s enough.” Heather stepped in and pulled Brady away from her great-grandmother.

  “Oh. Wait.” Brady turned back to the elder woman. “I brought you something. I hope it’s not a mis-interpretation too.” He pulled a small box out of his shirt pocket. Wrapped in shiny lavender paper and tied with jute string, he handed it to Daisy.

  “Oh. It’s lovely.”

  “That’s just the wrapping, GiGi.” Poppy giggled.

  “Well, anything wrapped this nice has gotta be lovely!” GiGi frowned, and pulled the string, then began to pick at the tape.

  “Here, let me help.” Brady too the box and loosened the tape. He handed it back to let her take the paper off.

  She squeezed her eyes closed with excitement. Gently, she pulled the top off the box. “Oh. My!” She lifted the bracelet and slipped it around the paper-thin skin of her wrist and fastened it. “It’s lovely.”

  Heather and Poppy leaned in to look at the beautiful flicker tail, loomed beaded bracelet. “GiGi, that is lovely.” Heather turned to Brady with a frown. “How’d you—?”

  He shrugged. “I went online and contacted a Karuk Tribe in Yreka, California.”

  GiGi whispered. “Yreka? I have friends from Yreka.”

  “Well.” Brady nodded. “I’m glad you like the bracelet…, Achwit.”

  She simply smiled. Her eyes were filled with tears as they lowered to admire the delicate beaded design.

  “Can I speak with you?” Heather touched his arm.

  “Sure.” Brady stepped away from Daisy and followed Heather into the small kitchen. They stepped out onto a small stoop. “I wasn’t sure you would talk to me at all. You haven’t answered any of my texts. I was beginning to wonder if you changed your number.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Yeah. No. Same number. I-I just needed time… to process what I learned… about you and why you abandoned me when I needed you most.”

  Brady buried his fingers in his hair pulling it back tight. “Look. I’m sorry. I did what I thought was best. I just couldn’t let this… curse affect you or your family. I—”

  “But you decided all that without asking me what I wanted. Brady! You never gave me a chance! And what if our baby had lived? What then? When were you going to tell me that a male child might have this… condition?”

  “It’s more than a condition, Heather.”

  “Oh, so it’s Heather now? What happened to Li’l Dove?”

  Brady gritted his teeth. “I didn’t think you liked being called that.”

  Heather stepped off the stoop. “I like it when you call me that.”

  “Ahh. I feel like I can’t win for loosing, here.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.” Heather turned to face him. “If our son had lived, when were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to wait and see, then when the little thing changed on the delivery table, you’d be like— Oh yeah, there’s something I forgot to mention.”

  Brady closed his eyes. “No. I don’t know. I didn’t know what else to do but leave and let you have a life that didn’t include me.”

  “Well,” Heather spun around and took a step. “You certainly made sure that happened.”

  Brady grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward him. He looked deeply into her eyes. His chocolate brown orbs flitted from her left eye to her right, as if he were looking for what to say. “I have never stopped loving you, Li’l Dove. Why do you think I named my mare after you?”

  “Did you? Did you name her after me? Or were you just giving her back what she lost, like you did for your gelding?”

  Brady’s brow drew tight. Confusion flooded his face. “What? I-”

  “Never mind.” Heather wriggled out of his grasp and walked away.

  “Heather, wait!”

  “I love you! I’ve always loved you! And… now that you can’t get—”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He stared at her a long time. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant, Brady. I know I told you I couldn’t get pregnant, but I am.” She laughed sardonically. “It’s a miracle, I suppose. I’m going to have your baby… again.”

  “You-I-we— Really?”

  She cocked her hip to one side and tilted her head in frustration. “You think I’d kid about something like this?”

  “No. Of course not.” He licked his lip. “We get a second chance.”

  “A second chance… at what? You said you didn’t want to pass on this legacy to a male child. There’s no guarantee this is a girl. And frankly, I don’t want to know what it is. I’m going to love this baby, no matter what. I hold you to no obligation.” She lifted her chin a notch. “We’ll just go back to the way we were. You live your hermit life rescuing people and I’ll go back to cutting up cadavers and—”

  “No. Heather. I want to do right by you, this time. I want to marry you. If you’ll have me.”

  “You don’t want to marry me! This baby will forever remind you that you wanted your… condition to stop with you. But we messed up!” She chuckled. “Now there will be another little Brady or Bradette Armstrong running around out there.”

  “You’re not seriously going to name our baby Bradette, are you?”

  Heather stared at him. Was he serious? “No. I don’t know. What if I did? You’re not going to be around—”

  “Yes, I am. I want to be with you, Heather. Please say you’ll marry me.” He dropped to one knee. “Please, Heather, say you will let me do this right, this time. Say you’ll make me the happiest man on the planet and become my wife, and the mother of my child.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Li’l Dove!” GiGi’s voice broke through Heather’s anger. She and half her family crowded on the little stoop. “The man is on one k
nee! Say yes!”

  She turned back to Brady, still on his knee. His chocolate brown eyes pleaded for mercy. Her heart exploded with so many emotions, mostly love and joy. “You really mean to tell me this is what you want? A baby… with me?”

  He smiled and the thousand pieces of her heart soared into the heavens and returned to her chest, whole. A warm sensation flooded her chest with so much— she couldn’t pick a word to describe how she felt looking into Brady’s eyes. “Okay. Yes.”

  She grabbed his shirt and pulled him to stand. Their lips crushed together as passion filled her middle. Her family cheered, and she stepped back from his voracious kiss. Panting for breath, she struggled. “But, if you break my heart again, Brady Armstrong, I’ll turn you into a gelding and you’ll have to change your name to Dick!”

  He laughed. “I promise. I won’t break your heart. I love you, Li’l Dove. I’ve always loved you. I always will. And” —he laid his hand on her belly— “I’ll love and protect our baby, no matter what.”

  She pursed her lips. “I know you will. No matter what.”

  “No matter what. Everything I have done, I stood strong against the worse of things. Unimaginable enemy forces. As a Navy Seal. In Iraq. Searching for missing bodies. Anything and everything I’ve done. I stood strong. But you, Heather Richards, are my only weakness.”

  He pulled her back into a bear hug. She closed her eyes. It was right to be here, with him, forever and ever. She’d gladly be his only weakness, because this was where she belonged.

  Epilogue

  “Come on, Li’l Dove. You can do this.” Brady held his sweat drenched wife in his arms and helped her press forward. She stained with ever fiber in her being, pushing. This was the hardest thing he’d ever been through. Including his experiences in Iraq. Watching Heather endure and work so hard to bring their baby into the world. The nurse encouraged Heather with cliches. “You’re doing good.” “That’s it. One more push.” But Brady knew exactly how hard Heather strained because he sat behind her, holding her and pressing her forward. He could feel every muscle in her body go rock-hard and then go limp, as she let go of her breath and fell back against him. Exhausted.

 

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