No Kind of Hero (Portland Devils Book 2)

by Rosalind James

  His mom came over with Gracie and said, “I’m going to take off, you two. And I’m just going to say that I’m happy to give up square dancing for this. Tonight, I am. But not every time. You’re going to need to get Russell to babysit some, honey.”

  Beth said, “But let me kiss her first,” and Angela smiled and handed Gracie over. Beth cuddled the baby close, rubbed her cheek over her fine blonde hair, and kissed her cheek, and Gracie “kissed” back.

  “Hey,” Beth said. “What was that, baby girl?”

  “Brand-new trick,” Evan said. “Giving kisses. She doesn’t pucker up yet, but she’s learning. And watch this.” He waved at his daughter. “Bye-bye, Gracie.”

  The baby smiled, her two teeth gleaming white, and opened and closed her hand. “Da da da.”

  “She’s got the dance down,” Evan said. “But not the music.”

  His mom took Gracie back and said, “Come on, sweetie. Let’s leave these two alone and go have some girl time. You want to watch Grandma’s shows? You know you do.” And then she did the thing she never had. She put her arm around Beth, kissed her cheek, and said, “I’m glad you came back, honey. I know that was scary, but sometimes, love’s worth it. The trick is knowing when. But I think this might be it.”

  “I think so too,” Beth said. She hugged Angela back and said, sounding as fierce as Beth Schaefer was ever going to be, “You must be a good mom to have such a good son. Thank you for him.”

  “See, now,” Angela said to Evan when Beth let go, “that’s what makes her a keeper. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

  Evan watched her put Gracie in the car, and then he took Beth’s hand and pulled her down to sit on the steps with him. “We need a porch swing,” he said. “Maybe a bigger porch, too. Before your flagstone patio, or after it?”

  “I don’t know,” Beth said. His arm was around her, her head was on his shoulder, and it was just about perfect. “I don’t care. Both, sometime. Will you really make my patio? With the roses? And the . . .”

  “Pergola? You bet I will. You bet. If you want this house. If you want to stay here.”

  She started to laugh, then. Pressure relief, and happiness. Both. He could tell. And he was smiling like a loon. Like a guy who didn’t have to be careful anymore, a guy who could go ahead and feel it. There was nothing bad about this, and nobody was going to take it away from him. She said, “I’d better want it. I quit my job. I walked out. I can’t believe I did that. And it was like . . . no choice. You know? No choice.”

  “Yep,” he said. “I know exactly. Because in all that talking, did you stop to wonder why my mom was here?”

  “What?” She looked confused. “No. What?”

  “I was coming. I told you that, remember? You had to try, and so did I. I thought, Portland has trees. Portland has some older neighborhoods, some houses you can fix up, and I know they need painters, too. I could get used to the freeway again. Time to give it another try, I thought. Time to go for it.”

  “Is that what you want?” she asked. “Because I told you. I quit.”

  “No. Hell, no. Are you kidding? I want you here. I want you now. But first, we need to do something else. As soon as I make you a sandwich, and you get changed.”

  She looked down at herself, seeming to see the state of her clothes for the first time. “Oh. Nothing to change into. I just . . . left.” She laughed. “I can’t believe that. I didn’t think a bit. I walked out, I went home and got my car, and I left. Wow. I guess I do need to do something else, and soon. I need to go clothes shopping. Or go home and pack up my condo. Or something.”

  “Nope,” he said, pulling her up. “Not right now, you don’t. Right now, I’m making you a sandwich, and we’re going by Russell’s and grabbing that key from under the mat so you can change into some of Dakota’s things. And then we’re going to do something I’ve needed to do for almost ten years.”

  She thought they must be going to the lake. She thought he’d take her to see dragonflies, or . . . something. She didn’t care what. She’d come, and she’d been right. She was never sure, but she was sure now.

  When Evan pulled into her parents’ driveway, she said, “You’re kidding. This is it?”

  “Yep,” he said, and smiled at her. Not that half-smile, the crooked little thing. A real smile. A smile that let her know he was happy, because she was here. “Trust me, OK?”

  “Always,” she said, and he put a hand up, scrubbed it over the lower half of his face, and said, “All right. That got me a little bit. Come on.”

  There was a car in the driveway. A Mercedes. She said, “Uh, Evan. Maybe we should have called first. That’s the Farnsworths.”

  “Nope.” He had her by the hand, was pulling her to the door. She opened it to a fusillade of happy barking and a wagging, ecstatic bundle of Henry. The dog galloped up to them and plopped down onto his butt at the last second, panting with excitement, his whip of a tail sweeping the floor.

  Beth crouched down, scrubbed him around his silky ears, and said, “Hey, boy. Did you miss me? I came back, though. See? I came back.”

  She looked up, and there was her mother. And her dad. And behind them, Candy and Rob Farnsworth. Whom she hadn’t seen since that unfortunate dinner. This should be interesting.

  Her dad got to her first. “Hi, honey,” he said, his smile huge. He hugged her tight, and she hugged him back and thought, Yes.

  Her mom was kissing her then, but she could see, out of the corner of her eye, that her dad was shaking hands with Evan, and surely that was good.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home for the long weekend?” her mother said. “But you just went back. Did you fly into Spokane? And, oh.” She gave Evan a kiss, which was progress, surely. “Hello, Evan. Did you just pick her up?”

  “No,” Evan said. “I didn’t. She drove. From Portland.”

  “You drove?” Michelle’s eyes were darting between the two of them. “But it’s barely eight. How could you have driven back? We were just finishing dinner. Come out on the deck and tell us, and have a glass of wine. Goodness.” She laughed, then said, “Henry. Down.” Henry was, indeed, still trying to snuggle between Beth and Evan, his tail whapping furiously against Beth’s bare legs. “Don, go get a couple more wine glasses, would you?”

  “That’d be good,” Evan said. “We have something to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago.”

  Michelle’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh, my goodness. You’re pregnant.”

  Beth laughed. She was giddy. Flying. “No, Mom. No. I don’t know what all this is about, but Evan said we had to come, so here we are.”

  “We’ll go on,” Candy said, “and let you have your family time. But call me tomorrow and tell me,” she said to Michelle. “It’s nice to see you, Beth,” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And Evan, of course.” Civility maintained. Beth was sure she wasn’t forgiven, but she didn’t care.

  A few more goodbyes, and the Farnsworths were out the door. Beth said, “Guess we have a yardstick, Evan. A baseline. When you move on from being, ‘And Evan, of course.’”

  He didn’t say anything. He just smiled and took her hand, and Michelle looked at him more sharply and said, “Deck. Now. I need to know what this is all about.”

  When they were sitting around the table, though, the candles flickering in the evening breeze, the patio heaters on against the chill that was September coming to north Idaho, Beth . . . didn’t start. Instead, she said, “Coming here was Evan’s idea. He said it mattered, and I’m not sure why. I have things to say, but I’m going to let him talk first.”

  Evan looked down at his hand, which was holding hers on the table, right out there in the open. And then he looked up at her parents. Calm and sure, like he was enough in himself. Like he had nothing to prove. He said, “Almost ten years ago, I fell in love with your daughter. One winter, and one summer. And I never came to you and told you so. She wasn’t ready to face your disappointment, and I didn’t ins
ist. I should have. I’m doing it now. I love her, and yes, I’m good enough for her. I’m not good enough because I have a house, and I’m not good enough because I have a business. I’m good enough because I love her more than anybody else ever will, and I’ll always treat her right. I’ll stand beside her through the tough times, and when the times get tougher than that, that’s when I’ll carry her. And she’ll do the same for me. That’s what makes her good enough for me. Not that she’s a lawyer. Yes, she’s freaky-smart. Yes, she’s hardworking. But the most important thing about her is that she’s got a loyal heart. And the most important thing about me is that I do, too. You can be disappointed, but we’re still good enough for each other, and we always will be. And that’s what I came to say.”

  Beth couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t talk. She put her head against Evan’s chest and held onto him. And finally, when she could speak again, she said, “Thank you. And you can . . . you can talk.”

  “Every once in a while,” he said, his eyes so warm. “When it counts.”

  “Which means,” Beth’s mother said, “what? Is this a proposal? Or what? What’s going on here, exactly?”

  “No,” Beth said. “It’s not, because we’ve only had a few weeks here, and we’re not jumping.” She looked at Evan, and he didn’t seem shocked, so that was all right.

  “Yep,” Evan said. “I’d say that both of us want to know for sure that it’s right. We want to work out anything we’ve got to work out. We’ve had part of a summer ten years ago, and less of another one. And I’ve got a little girl who needs us to be sure.”

  “And what about the rest of it?” Beth’s father asked. “I haven’t heard anything about that. Are you telling me that Evan and Gracie are moving to Portland? And Evan, are you ready for Beth’s schedule? It’s not the same as being on vacation. A sixth-year associate doesn’t do much else besides work. Not a lot of time for homemaking.”

  “You’re right,” Beth said. “That’s why I quit today. I’m coming to work here. I’m coming home.”

  That went over . . . mixed. Her dad smiled, and he kept on smiling. If Evan brought her home? That made him good enough for her dad right there. Her mom, though . . . Beth could see the battle raging behind her mother’s perfect facade as she explained her day and her decision as best she could.

  “I should hate this,” Michelle said when Beth had ground to a halt. “I should be horrified. I should ask you what you’re throwing away.”

  “But you can’t,” Evan said. His arm was around Beth now, and Evan’s arm was some solid comfort. “Because it means she’s here. I can tell you that’s how I feel about it. I’m a fan.”

  Michelle moved on. “Right, then. Where are you planning to live, Beth? You’re not getting engaged, and I confess I’m happy about that. I agree, it’s not enough time. I can hear you saying now that you’re not moving back into the cottage, which I do not understand, because you could save your money, and there it is sitting empty, and you could be as private as you wanted. And Russell Matthews is going to be moving back into his house, surely, once he’s feeling better, whatever Dakota does. If you wanted to live there, which you can’t possibly. I can ask around, though. They’re putting up some gorgeous condos out by Sand Creek, with walking trails and community areas and a pool. You know those will be appreciating. You’ll want to sell the Portland condo, of course, but Candy could help you out here in Wild Horse, get you in on the ground floor.”

  “Nope,” Beth said. “I already informed Evan that I’m moving in with him.”

  Her mother sucked in a breath, then hesitated for a long moment. Tact and conviction waged a battle, and tact lost. “I’m not saying it’s not a darling house,” she said. “And I’m not saying that living together without being married is a bad idea, even though I think it is. So I’m just saying that it’s tiny. For three people? Why, when you can do better?”

  “Now, you see, Mom,” Beth said, “that’s where you’re going to have to take my word for it again. Or maybe see that you and Dad raised me with the right values after all. You could think of it that way. I love Evan’s house, and I want to live there. Trust me, he’s still going to want the cow even though he’s getting the milk for free.”

  Evan smiled. “Well, yeah. I do want the cow. Although I don’t think I’ll be calling her that too much. Doesn’t sound like a great idea. And if the house turns out to be too small, we’ll add on. I can put a second half-story on there. Master suite. Get Russell to help me out, now that his back’s better. Dakota, too.”

  “And me,” Beth said. “I’m a good painter.”

  “Yes,” Evan said. “You are. And I hate to admit it, but I’m guessing Blake Orbison could swing a hammer if he had to, and that he’d do it.”

  “It’s been a while since I had a tool belt on,” Don said, “but I haven’t forgotten everything about it. I used to be a pretty fair electrician back in the old days. Remember that, honey?” he asked his wife.

  “You’re going to electrocute yourself,” Michelle said, “just to prove a point. There’s nothing wrong with paying for things, Elizabeth. Look at it this way. You’re giving somebody a job who needs one. And you won’t get engaged, but you’ll remodel a house you’re living in? That makes no sense.”

  “What your mother’s saying,” Don said, “is that it’s the wrong way around. A remodel’s when you need the piece of paper and the vows. Keeps you from killing each other. Maybe.”

  “Trial by fire,” Evan suggested. “And working on your house is what makes it yours. Working on ours will make it Beth’s.”

  Michelle sighed. “I thought Beth needed a lawyer,” she said almost mournfully. “Always. A doctor. Or a professor, maybe. Somebody who would understand her and take care of her and have the right priorities. I’m not entirely enjoying admitting that it’s you.”

  This time, Evan laughed, even as Beth gasped. Don said, his eyes dancing, “That’s right, honey. We’re going to have to admit that we were just as wrong as your mom was. She said I was a dreamer, and she was right. But I was a dreamer who was crazy about you. I wanted to marry my best friend, and I did. And I’ve never once been sorry. If Evan loves Beth half as much as I love you, I don’t guess a father could ask for more.”

  Michelle’s eyes had started to shine. “Now you’ve gone and made me cry,” she said crossly, waving her hand in front of her face. “Let’s have some wine. Because, Don.” Now, the tears were coming, and Beth was choking up, too. “Our baby’s coming home.”

  On December twenty-first, Beth had been living with Evan and Gracie for three and a half months, and she’d been working at Armitage, Caskell for most of that time, too. She’d be a partner eventually, or she wouldn’t. She was betting on “would.”

  And more importantly, tomorrow—Sunday—was Gracie’s first birthday. Her grandma was baking her cake. It was going to be a merry-go-round with horses. They would probably all get a little over the top about the whole thing. A one-year-old didn’t really need a birthday party, but maybe the people who loved her did.

  First, though, they had to get through today.

  Beth had gone for a run this morning, even though she’d had to wear Yak Trax on her shoes to keep from sliding on the snowy sidewalk. The exercise had helped, but she’d still need all her serenity. Evan had left for the gym an hour earlier. And Beth was waiting for April.

  April came twice a month, always on a Saturday. She didn’t take Gracie away. She seemed scared to, and Beth supposed that was natural after what had happened. That certainly made Evan breathe easier. They’d worked out a system after the first awkward visit that had helped. Evan left, and Beth stayed. She sat on the floor with April and Gracie. Gracie would play with her toys, April would watch her wistfully, and Beth would ask gentle questions and let April talk.

  Every visit left her drained. April filled her with pity and made her wish for a magic wand to fix her life. She wished April would go away, and she was so sorry for her, too. The conflict was exhausti
ng, but being here was a thing she could do, so she did it.

  Now, the doorbell rang, Henry got to his feet fast. He’d been lying next to Gracie and submitting to her piling her stuffed animals on top of him, but now, he ran toward the door and barked. Beth took a breath, told Gracie, “That’s your mom. Let’s go say hi,” picked her up, and went to do it.

  “Hi,” April said as she came inside looking tinier than ever in a puffy blue jacket. “Hi, Gracie. Do you want to give me a kiss?” She didn’t take Gracie out of Beth’s arms, though. She leaned in and kissed her daughter’s cheek, then took off the jacket and hung it on the hook before she held up the flat box in her hand. Pink ballerinas on the wrapping paper, and a big pink bow. “I brought a birthday present for her.”

  “Well, she has one for you, too,” Beth said, going for the calm cheerfulness that helped her get through these visits. “Want to show your mama your surprise, Gracie-girl? Let’s do it.”

  She set Gracie down, holding her hands, and then let her go, moved a few yards away, and said, “Can you walk? Are you a big girl? Come on, Henry,” she urged the dog. “Come help me tell her.” And Henry trotted over, wagged his tail, and uttered a joyous bark in Gracie’s direction. Helping.

  The baby, who almost wasn’t a baby anymore, smiled like a flower blooming. Her hair was in a topknot today, fastened with a yellow bow that matched the flowered overalls Evan had bought her a couple weeks ago, as always trying to pretend that he’d just happened to think of it. And she was wearing her new tennis shoes, too, the ones with the rubber toe caps. Her big-girl shoes.

  “Come on, baby girl,” Beth coaxed. She held out her arms. “Show your mama how you walk.”

  One step, two, and then Gracie got her confidence and rushed forward with that unsteady baby gait that tugged at your heart. Laughing all the way, until she fell into Beth’s arms and Beth lifted her high overhead, swooped her down to the tune of her chuckles, smiled at April, and said, “What do you think? Who’s a big girl?”