by Marnee Blake
He lifted a sandwich from the bag. “I got subs. Yours is dry. That’s still how you like it, right?”
She blinked. “You remember that?”
Damn it. He did his best not to squirm under her gaze. Had he given himself away that easily? This “friends” endeavor might be short-lived. To smooth over the tell, he shrugged. “Sure. I remember stuff like that.”
That was true enough. In fact, it was one of his foibles. Details. He remembered how people took their coffee, how they liked their sandwiches. If they preferred a certain brand of chips, if they didn’t like ice in their drinks. Things like that stayed with him.
It was his best excuse. The real reason? He doubted he’d forgotten anything about her over the years. Didn’t think he could if he wanted to. That would remain his secret.
“I know you do.”
He paused, his hand inside the brown bag. Did she remember that about him, then? Did she remember other things about him, too?
Didn’t matter if she remembered anything, did it? Friends. That was his goal. He yanked out the wrapped sandwiches, setting them out, and removed a bunch of napkins. He added the two bags of chips and the drinks he’d snagged. It was a strange habit. That was the only reason she remembered.
“So tell me. From the way you ran us ragged today, you can obviously pull your weight. How come you never took up firefighting?” He chuckled. “Obviously you have the pedigree.”
His laughter died when he caught her face. She was pale—paler than usual—in the dim light. “I tried. A few years ago.”
He cocked his head. “You did?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s just say firefighting stopped being something on my to-do list.”
He couldn’t even remember a time when they hadn’t talked about becoming firefighters. That there were female smokejumpers had cemented it in Meg’s mind back then. She insisted that it wouldn’t matter that she was smaller, thinner. She could hold her own on a crew, she’d said. He’d believed her. Now, after watching her train all day, it was clear she was right.
What had changed that? He opened her mouth to ask, but her next words stopped him.
“You were right.” She twisted, tucking her legs under the picnic table. Tilting her head back, she studied him, her face devoid of the defensiveness he’d come to expect from her the past couple of days. With her hair in a ponytail and the late-day light hitting her face, she reminded him more of the girl she’d been years ago. He’d found that girl tempting and appealing. This woman…he found her irresistible. “About how you needed a chance.”
“I am?” He glanced down, unwrapping the sandwiches. “Is that why you brought me out here?” He grinned at her. “I could have saved you a trip. I’m usually right.”
“Ha.” She smiled back. “No, I mean after the way Hunter acted today, it’s pretty clear you’re right. You do need my help.”
He took a bite of his sandwich, stalling while he figured out a response.
He’d wondered if she’d bring that up. He walked in on the tail end of that conversation. Knowing him here won’t do you any favors. What did that even mean? Sure, this was a small community, a tight-knit one, and it had a long memory.
But of all the people he’d expected to judge him, he hadn’t picked Hunter. They’d been so close before everything went down. So close, that afterward, he’d been unable to face him. Between how broken up Hunter’s mom had been, how distant Lance’s had become, and how the rest of Redmond had made them into pariahs…he couldn’t have handled any of that from Hunter. Later, after he’d gotten some distance and time away, he’d realized what a shit he’d been. Hunt was his best friend. He’d deserved an explanation. Instead, he’d been afraid that if he started talking to Hunter about it, if his friend had shown any animosity, he’d break down, cry like a baby. He’d chosen to be proud.
That had been a mistake.
That didn’t explain how Hunter acted today. Why had he talked to Dak? If nothing else, he had to know that would cause a rift in the class. No one wanted enemies. What had he been trying to prove?
“I’ll talk to Hunter.” It was past time. He’d avoided the conversation when they were teenagers, but now, as a man, he could see that had been a mistake. He’d known then it was a mistake. He’d only been too afraid to fix it.
“Let me help you. That’s what you wanted, right?” She pulled her sandwich toward her. “You and Hunter used to be inseparable. You want that back. He does, too. Even if he’s acting like an ass right now.”
Watching her with narrowed eyes, he tried to piece together what she was trying to say. “You’re going to help me with Hunter.”
“You need it, right?” She shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He blinked, not sure what to say. This was an easy way out. If she believed he only needed her to help him smooth things over with her family, with the community, then he could hide behind that.
So why was he so pissed?
As he watched her pick up her sandwich and find the best approach to dig in, he figured it out. It bothered him that she didn’t consider that he’d wanted the chance with just her.
Except he shouldn’t be thinking that at all.
Unaware of his internal struggle, she bit into her sandwich, pausing to chew, before using it to point at him. “This is good. I forgot how good Rozele’s is.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin, and tucked it under her drink so it didn’t blow away. “Give him some time. He’ll come around.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing for the past years? Giving each other some time?” That was harsh. Some part of him recognized that he was lashing out, that it was unfair.
She glared at him, her sandwich halted on its way to her mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Did she even notice that there was something stiff and unnatural between her and her siblings? He’d grown up with them. They’d always had an easy way among them. They joked, poked fun. Stuck up for each other. Now, they were formal. Like strangers.
It wasn’t his place to say anything, though. Not anymore, and especially not in his current mood. “Never mind.”
“No, what do you mean?”
“You guys. You’re all different now.” It was an understatement. Her brothers were so serious, he hardly recognized them. When he looked into Hunter’s face, he couldn’t even find his old partner in crime.
And Meg? She was so buttoned up he couldn’t help missing the girl who tagged along on their escapades.
“We lost our father, Lance,” she said stiffly. “Of course, we’re different.”
“Forget it.” Why was he picking this fight? He wanted to smooth things over with her.
She placed her sandwich on its wrapper, took a sip of her iced tea, and rubbed the dust from her finger tips. “No. You started this. Let’s get it out.”
They were going to do this now, it seemed.
So be it.
“Hunter’s never been that quiet. The guy never shut up. And Will might have been overbearing and obnoxious, but the way he acted yesterday? That was a whole new level. That was past overbearing, right to downright dickish.”
She snorted, the side of her lip tilting up.
“Is that a smile?” He leaned back, lifting his hands. “My job here is done, folks.”
Sighing, she shook her head. “They’ve had a hard time.” Her grin faded, and he was sad to see it go. The worry that replaced it, the faraway look…it was new, unfamiliar on Meg’s face. It tugged at his heart.
“What about you, Megs?” he asked softly.
“What about me?” She glanced down at her sandwich, as if it suddenly became incredibly interesting, even though she’d been having a hard time getting into it.
“How are you doing?” He leaned forward, doing his best to see her, to study her in the light from the rising moon. Her hair shimmered,
and her skin looked so soft he wanted to run his thumb along her cheekbone. She wouldn’t welcome that, but that didn’t stop him from wanting.
“I’m fine.” The answer came fast, gave nothing away, and was complete bullshit.
“I don’t believe you. I think you hold it together, hold your family together, because there’s no one else to do it. You have to be strong for everyone. And while you’re being strong, no one’s there to be strong for you.” He’d rarely regretted leaving Redmond. His mom had been miserable in the months after his father’s death, and he’d wanted to see her happy. The relief had been intense the first months after they’d gone. He’d ignored any pangs of homesickness in those first days, relieved to see his mother smile again.
After things settled, though, the lack of closure, the sense of unease, it had settled over him.
This, though…never had he expected Meg to be holding her family together.
She swallowed, holding his gaze. Obviously, he was right. Always the one to make peace. Of course, she would step in to make things easier for everyone else. It was one of the things he’d always loved about her, how selfless she was.
But that didn’t mean they should have let her. Who had taken care of her? She hadn’t been able to sleep? Had turned to running to make it bearable? That was messed up.
Anger burned through him…at Hunter, at Will. Hadn’t they noticed? How had they not seen how much the strain was tearing at her? If they saw it, why weren’t they doing anything about it?
They’d left so much unsaid, all of them. And it looked like Meg had picked up all the slack.
He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone as loyal as her. Her devotion to her family, to the people she loved…it was one of the sexiest things about her.
“You’re wrong.” She looked down, dropping her eyes. Picking up her sandwich, she took another bite. After she finished chewing, she glanced up. By then, she’d gone into hiding and everything he’d seen in her eyes a minute ago was gone. “You’ve got it wrong. I only did what I had to do. My family needed me.”
He bet they had. He would bring that up to her brothers sometime soon, whether they wanted to hear it or not. “I hear your mom is still having a hard time.”
“Who told you that?” Her brows snapped together. “You haven’t been home that long.” She might have been uncomfortable talking about her brothers or herself but now that he brought up her mom, she’d come to battle.
Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. “My grandmother said your mom has had a hard time. That’s all.”
“That’s none of her business.” She glared at him. “It’s hard to be a single mom. The twins are teenagers; they’re a handful. And she works full time.”
“I know.” He didn’t say more. He’d watched his own mother struggle with life after his father’s death. His dad had been the life and laughter in their house, at least during the times he was home. There had been a vacuum his naturally introverted mother hadn’t been able to fill.
But, after a year or so, she’d stretched out. She’d let go of some of their old habits and they started new traditions in Mendocino. His mother purchased a bed and breakfast. He’d volunteered at the fire company, and after high school, he’d joined the hotshot crew in Stonyford.
He didn’t see his mom’s B&B as home, but she was happy. She’d remarried a couple years ago to a nice man with laugh lines around his eyes, Ollie. Lance had spent the weeks before rookie training in Mendocino, at his mom’s place.
From what he could tell, Meg’s mom hadn’t made any changes. She’d gotten stuck.
She placed her hands on the table, as if she was going to get up. “You don’t know what happened after you left. It was hard. Don’t judge.”
He didn’t want her to leave. “You’re right. I don’t know what happened after I left. Things were hard for us, too. But that was ten years ago. Some of it is better now, some remains.”
It didn’t look like any of it was better for the Buchanans.
“There’s no time limit on some things.” She cringed, and again the years between them stretched wide. Ten years was a long time, but it wasn’t long enough to get past unsaid things. Reality needed to be voiced, whether it was convenient or not.
“I should have come to see you all, after everything. I didn’t, and I wish I had.” It was the truth. It felt good to say it.
“Yes. You should have. Hunter…” She shook her head. “Hunter missed you.”
The words cut through him. “I missed him, too.” He met her gaze. “I missed all of you.”
“Then what the hell, Lance?” She pushed her sandwich away and pinned him with a glare. “Hunter called you. He texted. You had to have gotten at least a few of those messages.”
“I did.”
“Then why didn’t you reach out?” Her voice was raw. “We were all broken. You could have been broken with us.”
This was awful, so much harder than he’d ever expected. He’d known, when he returned to Redmond, that he couldn’t avoid these conversations, not if he was going to become a smokejumper, not if he was going to try to clear his father’s name. But, her eyes…they were full of pain.
“Christ, Meg. I wanted to.” He ran his hands over his hair. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to come over, to see all of you. Every time…I’d lose my nerve.” Or he’d see someone who would shake his resolve. The neighbors. A teacher. The man at the deli who always served them. Everyone.
“He could have used your help.” She leaned back. “I didn’t know how to reach him. Still don’t.”
He wanted to reach for her hand. But that stupid promise not to touch her stopped him. Stupid or not, he refused to renege on it. So, he said the words he needed to say.
“I’m sorry, Meg.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t.” Back then, he couldn’t reach out. Even as the loss of his friends was like a physical pain, a secondary blow to the loss of his father, he’d been paralyzed. Even now, years later, that boy shamed him.
The sun had set completely now, and there was barely any light, but her blue gaze filled his sight. He refused to break the contact.
This had been a bad idea. He’d wanted to call a truce, a new start with her. Something to build on, so that maybe he could explain what he was doing here, investigating their fathers’ deaths. If they were friends, he could explain that knowing the full truth about their fathers would be right, in the end. For that to happen, she would need to see him as something other than the son of the man who killed her dad, something more than the friend who’d abandoned them all years ago.
That’s the lie he’d told himself. He’d wanted to start fresh with her, to get another chance to have her in his life.
He could see now that would be impossible.
She stood, shaking her head. “Thank you. For dinner and everything. I should get back.”
He lifted his hand, reaching for her. But the space across the table held a lifetime. He couldn’t span it. “Meg…”
“And Lance?”
He swallowed. “Yeah?”
“I’ll do as you asked. Help you with Hunter, give you a chance here as best I can. But, we can’t be friends. Goodnight.”
He didn’t go after her as she headed toward her SUV.
The sandwich he’d eaten sat like a stone in his gut, coated in disappointment. He’d hoped that if he could smooth over some of the pain, he’d be able to convince Meg and her brothers that reopening the investigation into their fathers’ deaths would benefit them all. As she drove out of the parking lot, she took any dreams of that possibility with her.
Chapter 7
Meg pulled in behind her mom’s Explorer, killing the engine. The house was dark except for the light they left on over the kitchen window and the faint glow from the living room. She allowed her head to sag and closed her eyes.
What had she b
een doing, thinking she could help Lance smooth things over? To do that, she would have needed to be able to get past her own mixed up baggage about him. Which she’d believed she could. She was a grown-up now, paid her own bills, had a successful career, friends, and life. She could handle her emotions.
Wrong.
All those questions, poking and prodding. Like he was trying to dig up all the stuff she’d buried.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her purse and duffel out of the passenger seat. She slammed the door harder than necessary and trudged up the stairs. The screen door closed with a bang behind her.
“Meg? Is that you?” Her mom’s voice wafted from the living room.
Damn. She’d hoped to miss her. “Yeah.”
“I was just going to watch my story. Care to join me?”
Meg’s eyes closed. Small talk with her mother sounded like torture. She needed to retreat to her room and get some sleep, so she could put her guard back up tomorrow. But, she mustered a smile as she dropped her bags on the ground next to the cluttered table.
In the living room, her mom was already in her pajamas, curled up on the love seat, with her favorite flannel blanket over her legs. Her fuzzy slippers stuck out the bottom. In a messy bun and her face free of makeup, she looked younger. Seeing her like this made Meg wonder what she would’ve been like if her father hadn’t died. Would she be the same shell of a woman she was now? Or would she be the energetic mother of her youth?
It was probably somewhere in the middle. No one stayed the same after ten years. Some things got better, some things worse…. Like her. Like Lance.
A takeout container sat open on the coffee table next to her, the remains of what had probably been Chinese food. “Where are the boys?”
“I dropped them at Kyle’s an hour or so ago.” Her mom set her glass next to the remains of her dinner. “Some ‘Call of Duty’ tournament or something.”
Meg nodded as she picked up the trash, closing the lid. Still antsy, she returned to the kitchen and dropped it into the garbage can. “How was your day?”