by Donna Alward
There was something about watching a strong man with a fuzzy bunny that could melt a person’s heart. Nora felt some terrible weakness unfurl in her at his tenderness with Valentine, in his decision to come into the light. She was annoyed with herself for feeling as if she had unintentionally given Brendan a test, and she was just as annoyed that he had passed.
“Okay, I think I remember where the little monster lives.” He put Valentine back in the cage, closed the door and turned to her.
“Deedee’s not going to take him home. I figured it out. She can’t bear the thought of being with Charlie when he dies. Though I guess we’re all wondering if he’s going to die at all. He keeps improving.”
“It’s temporary.”
“You sound certain of that.”
“I am. I wish Luke wouldn’t have taken it on. He’s setting himself up for heartbreak.”
“And he’s had enough,” Brendan guessed softly. “And so have you.”
The look in his eyes was the one she had seen that rainy night when she had come to in the horse pen, when she had reached up and touched his cheek in welcome.
A person could drown in a look like that, throw herself willingly into those deep pools of understanding.
Instead, she congratulated herself for trying to back off.
“When you work with animals that are unwell, you expect a certain amount of grief. I’ve developed strategies for not getting attached. I don’t name any of the animals.”
“You named Lafayette.”
She could say he had come named, but he hadn’t. “Who would get attached to him?” she said, a bit defensively.
“How about Valentine?”
“Okay, so the odd one slips by my guard. But now that I have this beautiful facility, I don’t ever let animals in the house. To prevent attachment, and also, where would you draw the line?”
“But Luke has Charlie in the house. And Ranger.”
She bit her lip. “I know I should be stricter.”
“But you took it as a good sign that he cared about something,” Brendan guessed, and then reached forward and brushed her hair away from the bump on her head. “He cares about you. He told me he woke you up every hour on the hour.”
“He did.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Exhausted.”
“Funny, you didn’t look exhausted when I came in.”
She blushed, remembering that he had caught her dancing.
“In fact,” he said, cocking his head, listening to the music blaring, “don’t we have some unfinished business? Didn’t you ask me to dance?”
Her mouth fell open. Of course she had not asked him to dance! He knew she had been talking to the bunny! What was he doing?
What was she doing? Because she found herself playing along, again. Boldly, almost daring him, she held out her hand.
Come, then, into the light.
And felt as if the bottom was falling out of her world when he took it. Because it was only then that she recognized what darkness she had been in.
Grieving her sister. And Vance’s abandonment when she’d needed him most. Weighed down by extra responsibility. Wanting desperately to be everything Luke needed, and knowing in her heart she had been falling short.
She took Brendan’s hand and smiled at him, and it felt as if for the first time in a long, long time that smile was coming straight from her heart.
* * *
What was he doing? Brendan asked himself.
Ever since that first smile had tickled her lips, a desire had been growing in him, and it felt as if his fate was sealed when she’d giggled today. When she’d laughed, chasing that bunny through the barn.
Brendan was not sure he could ever find his way to the light, or if the light could ever penetrate the darkness around him. He was not even certain he wanted it to, because it could mean the loss of the grip he had on the pool of pain inside of him.
Still, watching the cat change, watching Charlie playing, seemed nothing short of a miracle. What had he started to believe?
However nebulous he was about what he wanted for himself, Brendan was aware of what he wanted for Nora. He wanted to make that light go on in her. He wanted something in her life to be fun and carefree.
It hit him like a ton of bricks what she needed, and why he felt so compelled by her need.
She was in the same situation his mother had once been in, a single parent struggling to be both parents, struggling to do everything right.
His mother’s struggles had shaped Brendan, made him driven, made him want things for his own family that he and his mother had not had, and could not have even dared to hope for.
Now, looking at Nora, he could see the strain in her face, the stress in the droop of her shoulders.
It looked as if it had been a long, long time since she had laughed, or had anything approaching fun in her life.
The weight of the whole world seemed to be on those slender shoulders
It was not his job to lift it, Brendan Grant told himself. He’d managed to not get tangled in the web of life for a long time. Yet the last few days...
But that begged the question about the kind of man he had become. Hadn’t he said to the boy last night that a mistake could be turned into an opportunity? To become something better?
Brendan had made a terrible mistake that night two and a half years ago.
He’d let Becky drive alone on a bad night. He should have been with her. She had begged him to go. She’d been so excited.
A pressing project at work. No, no, I’ll meet you there. I’ll come up later tonight. You’ll wake up to my handsome mug in the morning. I promise.
He hated these thoughts. He hated that he was questioning himself. That he could see light, and was being drawn toward it. He hated it that he was coming back to life.
There was no reason he had to be here anymore. Nora didn’t need him.
Except that she did.
Life was asking more of him. And there was that ironic twist again. It was asking him to show someone else how to lighten up, how to have fun. But in doing so, he was coming closer to finding his own light. What if this time it broke down the walls all around him and pierced his heart like a lightning bolt?
It would be so easy to walk away from a challenge like that! But if he let the legacy of his love for his wife be bitterness, somehow he had failed.
If he could ignore the need of these two people, in a situation so like the one his mother and he had once been in, it wouldn’t matter how many beautiful houses he designed and built.
What if the child Becky had carried had already been born? What if he’d had to figure out how to make a life for both of them and deal with his grief?
That’s the situation Nora was in. She was grieving her sister and trying to make a life for her nephew.
If he didn’t do a single thing to lighten that burden when her need was so obvious to him, Brendan was not sure he would ever get the bitterness of failure off his tongue.
“So,” he said, making a decision, cocking his head to the music. “Do you know how to jive?”
Ridiculous to feel as if it was the bravest and most risky thing he had ever done.
“No!” she stated, then asked skeptically, “Do you?”
“Of course not. Well, maybe a little. From high school dance class.”
“Interesting school you went to! Word games and dance class,” Nora said.
“Let’s teach each other,” he said. And then he pulled her in close to him. She put her hands up, pushing away from him, keeping a small barrier between her and his chest. She was tense and unsure.
Well, she should be. Maybe she was asking the question he needed to ask.
So he lightened her burden. A
nd made her smile. Then what? What happened next?
But this moment stole his questions about the future. Her huge green eyes locked on his face, her pulse beating harder than that rabbit’s in the delicate hollow of her throat.
“Relax,” he heard himself say softly. He was still holding her hand, and rested his other hand on the soft curve between her rib cage and her hip.
She did relax, looking at him with fearful expectation.
“Okay,” he said, “just like dance class. One, two, three, one, two, three.”
They shuffled along the aisle between the cages. She looked down at her feet, her tongue caught between her teeth.
“I’m surprised you asked me to dance,” he said. “You aren’t very good at it.”
“I thought I was pretty good when it was Valentine I was dancing with!”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was. Not so inhibited.”
“There’s no cause to be inhibited,” he said.
“Yes, there is! I’m going to step on your toes—”
“I can handle it. Steel toes.” The truth was he’d had to force himself to go to work today. He had wanted to be here instead. He had missed it here as he had not missed getting to Village on the Lake every day.
She glared down at his feet. “They are not!”
“Specifically made for construction sites. They are.”
“I’m going to look foolish.”
“There’s no one here to worry about.”
“What about you?”
“I’d love to see this—” he pressed a finger into the little worry line in her forehead “—disappear. Just give yourself to it. Just for a minute.”
She hesitated, then he felt the exact moment she surrendered shiver up the length of her entire body.
“Now,” he said softly, “you should try moving your hips.”
“You first!”
“Just us and the bunnies. And a few cats.”
“And a parrot who swears.”
“Ah, Lafayette, the finger eater. Hard to find a home for him, I assume?” The distraction of talking about the parrot worked. Brendan was moving and she was going with him.
“Hard to find a home for him? Impossible. Except for young men of a certain age who would take him to use as a novelty item at their frat parties. I couldn’t allow that.”
“That sounds just a bit like, um, attachment.”
“Well, it isn’t. That horrible parrot is probably going to teach Luke new words.”
“There are no words that are new to a fifteen-year-old boy.”
While she contemplated that, Brendan decided to up the difficulty level.
“I’m going to pull away from you, but keep holding your hand. Up in the air like this. Walk beside me.”
“This isn’t a jive,” she said. “I think it’s a minuet.”
“Nope. No hips in minuets.”
“Did you learn that in dance class?”
She was becoming quite breathless. He pulled her back to him, put his hand on her waist, leaned his forehead to hers. “Get ready to spin under my arm.”
She did.
“Now spin back. We’re good,” he declared.
“We’re not. We’re terrible.”
“Ask Valentine if you don’t believe me. Get ready for the dip.”
“Dip? No! Brendan! We’ll fall.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“FALL? ON MY watch? I don’t think so. Relax. Trust me.”
Nora giggled. Then relaxed, and then trusted him.
And at that exact second of giving her trust completely, his arm went behind the small of her back and she was literally swept off her feet.
Just like that she found her back arched, totally supported by his strength. Just like that they were in balance. In harmony. He held her suspended there. She gazed into his eyes. And then he pulled her in hard to his chest.
She leaned against him, feeling the steady, solid beat of his heart. They were both breathing hard, and she started to laugh. She laughed until the tears flowed.
“OhmyGod,” she said. “I haven’t laughed like that for so long!”
He was watching her intently, a little satisfied smile playing on his lips.
As if he had planned this. Give the poor beleaguered aunt a break from the monotony of her life.
It had been a nice thing to do.
But while she’d been losing control, he’d been gaining it.
And that was enough of that.
“Brendan, that was so much fun. I hardly know how to thank you.”
Except that she did. She knew only one way to bring him totally into this place of light with her.
And before she could stop herself or think of the consequences, letting the momentum of the dance carry her, she was on her tiptoes, taking his lips with hers. And that’s when the bottom really fell out of her world.
Brendan Grant’s lips were like silk warmed through with honey.
Nora considered herself something of an expert on energy, but nothing could have prepared her for this exchange.
His energy was pure and powerful.
It swept through her, until it felt as if every cell in her whole body was vibrating with welcome for what he was.
A life force. Compelling. All-encompassing.
And that was before his kiss deepened. Taking her. Capturing her. Promising her. Making her believe...
...in the breadth and depth and pure power of love.
She broke away and stood staring at him, her chest heaving, her mind whirling, her soul on fire.
She didn’t want to believe! Belief had left her shattered. Her belief in such things had left her weak and vulnerable and blind.
And she was doing it again.
Love! How could the word love have entered the picture? She hadn’t given it permission! She hadn’t invited it into her life! If anything, she was actively avoiding such a complicated twist to her already overwhelming life.
Realistically, she knew next to nothing about this man.
Except that he had known sorrow.
And that he was good to his deceased wife’s grandmother.
And had given her nephew a chance.
And could hold a bunny with tenderness.
And could turn an ordinary moment into a dance.
And had made her laugh.
And was afraid of crumbling along with the walls that came down.
The truth was that Nora felt she knew more about Brendan Grant in less than twenty-four hours than she had known about Dr. Vance Height in more than two years.
“I don’t know wh-what got into me,” she stammered, and could feel the heat moving up her cheeks. She had kissed a stranger. It didn’t matter that she felt she knew him. That was crazy. That was the illusion!
“I need to go. I need to go check on Luke. And Charlie. And your grandmother. And—”
“Hey!” He stepped in close to her, touched her cheek, looked deep into her eyes. “Don’t make it more than it was. A spontaneous moment between a healthy man and a beautiful woman.”
She stared at him.
It was nothing to him. Well, of course! No matter what she read into it, they did not know each other. While she was falling in love, he was building his walls higher.
“I—I’m not beautiful,” she stammered. Of all the things she could have said, why that?
“Yes,” he said, his voice husky, his thumb moving down her cheek and scraping delicately over her lip. “Yes, you are.”
Because she had needed to hear that. Had needed someone to see the woman in her.
And for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. And she knew, despite her attempt at resolve, she wou
ld not do a single thing—not one single thing—to stop him.
But then he stepped back from her, shoved his hands into his pockets.
“How about if I start on the chores? While I wait for Deedee?”
Pride and a need for self-protection made Nora want to refuse. But if she said no, he would know that something he had dismissed as nothing had shaken her right to her core.
And practicality took over. As he had pointed out, her volunteers were largely little old ladies. Here was someone who could do the heavy work. She couldn’t turn it down.
“Do you think I could get you to move some hay bales?”
“Sure, just show me what you need done.”
Trying to shake off that awareness of him—a need that he had unleashed within her and that she intended to fight with her whole heart—Nora led him through the small-animal section.
She was going to pretend nothing had happened.
But it was harder, as she watched him walk through her world with easy familiarity, pausing to scratch a cat’s ear, to stick his finger through mesh to tickle a kitten. Even the hamsters seemed to recognize him, and scurried to the wire to say hello.
They stopped in front of the colorful parrot, which at once swore loudly at Nora, using a term so derogatory to females it made her flush. Then the parrot switched to French.
Brendan’s lips twitched. His voice stern, he said, “Lafayette, fermez la bouche.”
“Ooh,” she teased, unable to resist, even though she knew the dangers of teasing, “you speak French. What did you say?”
“Romantic gibberish,” he said, wagging a fiendish eyebrow at her. “It means shut your mouth.”
And the tension that had been building between them since their lips met exploded into laughter once again.
“What do you do with animals like Lafayette?” he asked when the laughter stopped. “The ones that won’t be adopted for whatever reason?”
“I’m pretty new at this. I’ve only had the shelter open for six months. Demand for adoptable pets has outstripped animals coming in. I even found a home for a white rat! So far, that’s a decision I haven’t had to make.”
“Maybe you should have a plan,” he suggested.
She decided it would make her feel way too vulnerable to let him know how she dreaded the day she would have to make that decision, let alone plan for it.