The Way Back Home

by Barbara Freethy

  “Maybe you could tell some of your friends that you think it was an accident,” Gabe suggested. “You might have some sway.”

  “I’ve tried, but they all think I’m being loyal to Alicia because I was working for her.”

  “But you’re not working for her anymore, so you could try again.”

  “I will. I promise,” he said. “And, Alicia, I hope you do get back out there. You were one of the best, and so was your dad.”

  “You should have talked to me, Kenny. We were more than employer-employee, we were friends.” She turned to Gabe. “Let’s go.”

  They were at the door when Kenny called out, “Alicia, wait.”

  “What?” she asked.

  He looked at his girlfriend as if for confirmation and then back at her. “Ian Palmer.”

  Her stomach tightened. “What about him?”

  “He’s been looking for a way to make some quick cash to pay off a bookie. Not saying he did it, but since you asked …”

  A wave of nausea ran through her. She’d been a big sister to Ian for most of her life. Would he really do something like this to her? She walked back to Gabe’s truck, completely shaken. As she fastened her seatbelt, she remembered Kelly telling her that she was worried about Ian gambling again. Apparently, her worry was justified.

  Gabe glanced at her as he started the engine. “You want to tell me about Ian Palmer?”

  “He’s Kelly’s little brother. I considered him to be my brother, too, but since the accident, we haven’t spoken.”

  “Kenny might have just thrown Ian’s name out there to get the heat off of him.”

  “I don’t know what to think, Gabe.”

  “Then let’s go home—sort things out. You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

  She looked awful, Alicia realized as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom of Rob’s cabin. Her towel-dried hair was tangled, her face was pale, and Kelly’s sweater was big on her. Reaching into the drawer, she found a comb and ran it through her hair.

  When she returned to the living room, she was surprised to see Gabe at the stove stirring something in a pot. “You’re cooking? I thought you didn’t know how.”

  “I bought some cans of soup at the store earlier. And I make an excellent grilled cheese. What do you say?”

  “Sold.” Glancing at the clock, she realized how late it was. She’d left the carnival at about three, and it was now after eight. “I should check in with Justin.”

  “Is he with Keith?”

  “Yes. Keith has a huge play structure in his backyard. It’s a two-story house with ladders and windows and little rooms. It’s very cool for two boys with big imaginations.”

  “I always wanted a tree house, but shockingly enough, they didn’t have those in the big city or in any of the shelters I stayed at.”

  “It must be strange to grow up in a big city—traffic, sirens, tons of people. I don’t think I’d like it.”

  “What about art museums, five-star restaurants, theaters? They don’t appeal to you?”

  “They do, but I can always visit those and then come home.” She perched on a stool in front of the counter where he was cooking. “I need to go through this place and figure out what to do with Rob’s stuff.” She paused. “Maybe you’ll want some of it.”

  “Maybe. But you should figure out what you want to keep, and then I’ll help you get rid of the rest. I didn’t see a lot of clothes in the closet, but I’d be happy to take what’s there to a donation site. There must be one in town.”

  “There is, and we should do that. I’ve been putting it off. I was almost afraid to come in here. I don’t know why. It’s silly.”

  “It’s not silly. You’re grieving.”

  She drew in a breath. “I thought it would be more difficult to have you here, but in a strange way, it feels better seeing you over here than seeing the house empty and silent.”

  “Did you ever read Rob’s letter?”

  “Not yet. But I believe you. Rob had his reasons for wanting you to come here, and I’m going to respect them.” She looked around the room at the things her brother had accumulated in his short life. Most of what he had in the way of furniture was old or used. Rob was so rarely at home that he’d never put much effort into getting beyond the basics. There were probably no more than three things in the whole place that mattered to him.

  “The records,” she said abruptly, her gaze landing on the crate filled with old vinyl records and the ancient stereo that Rob played them on. “You should take them. They meant a lot to Rob. He loved old music.”

  “Then maybe you should keep them, to remind you of him.”

  “Maybe. But you’ll definitely take the baseball cards.”

  “Rob had baseball cards?”

  She nodded, smiling at the new interest in his expression. “Some pretty rare ones, too, I think. He started collecting them when he was seven. They’re on the shelf in the bedroom closet. One of them could be valuable.”

  “I’ll take a look later.”

  “And you should take his guitar.”

  “You don’t think Justin might want it?”

  She shook her head. “Justin has a guitar from his dad, and frankly, the last thing I want to do is encourage him to become a musician. That probably seems wrong, but I don’t like the lifestyle. I don’t want that for my kid.”

  “Understandable, but Justin is going to have some interest in what his father does. It’s only natural.”

  She watched as he slathered bread with butter and placed it in the middle of a large frying pan. “Is a lot of butter the secret to your masterpiece?” she asked teasingly.

  “Two kinds of cheese—that’s the secret,” he said with a grin.

  “Is this your comfort food?”

  “Yeah. Couldn’t always afford the second slice of cheese, though.”

  “I’m sorry you had such a rough childhood. Will you tell me a little more?”

  “There’s nothing else to say. I grew up, got out, and didn’t look back.”

  “Not ever?” she couldn’t help asking. “You never look back on your life and wonder if you should have done something differently?”

  He gazed at her, all trace of amusement gone now. “We’re not talking about my childhood anymore, are we?”

  “I just wondered if you had any regrets, Gabe.”

  “More than I can count, but regret doesn’t get you anywhere. You have to move forward. It’s the only way out.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve used the word out. You’re always looking for an escape route, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve learned the hard way that it’s important to have an exit strategy in place.”

  “What was your exit strategy with me?”

  “I didn’t have one, because I wasn’t planning on getting involved with you.”

  “But you saw me, and you couldn’t keep your hands off me,” she teased.

  His expression lightened. “I think it was the other way around.”

  She smiled. “Guilty. I found you irresistible. I wanted to be with you from the first second you arrived in town. But you were Rob’s best friend, and Rob warned me not to mess around with you, so I tried to play it cool. That obviously didn’t work.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You could say you felt the same way about me.”

  He flipped one sandwich over and then the next before replying. “I felt the same way about you.”

  “You could use your own words,” she said pointedly.

  “Yours were good enough.” He gave her a grin. “Rob warned me to stay away from you, too.”

  “So, my brother didn’t want us to get together three years ago, but then he decided to leave his house to you so we’d end up right next door to each other. What the hell was he thinking?”

  Gabe stared at her for a moment. “I never told him what happened between us. Did you?”

  She shook her head. “No. He l
eft with you, and I didn’t talk to him again for a few days. By then, I had decided it was better left unsaid. I didn’t want Rob to beat you up.”

  “You were protecting me?”

  “And myself. I didn’t feel like a lecture on what an idiot I’d been.” She drew in a breath. “How are those sandwiches coming along?”

  “Almost ready,” he said, giving them another flip. “I picked up some beer while I was in town. Do you want one?”

  “I’d love one.”

  He pulled a bottle out of the fridge, popped the cap, and handed it to her, then dished up the soup and sandwiches. “Why don’t we take these over to the couch?”

  “Great idea.” She took her food to the coffee table and sat down on the big leather couch. They ate in companionable silence. It had been a long time since someone had made her a meal. In fact, she couldn’t remember when that had last happened. Probably before the accident, when Kelly used to invite her over to the inn.

  “What are you thinking about?” Gabe asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You sighed like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders. Is my sandwich that bad?”

  “No, it’s delicious. I was just thinking about Kelly. She was the chef at the Blackberry Inn, and she is an amazing cook. Far better than me. She can take three ingredients and turn them into an award-winning dish.” She paused. “Today was the first day I really talked to her since right after the accident.”

  “How did it go?”

  “In some ways, better than expected; in other ways, worse. She’s still angry and thinks I’m not taking responsibility for my actions. Her hatred hurts so much more than the others, because we were so close. I knew everything about her, all her secrets, her hopes, every last thing. I even knew she was a little nervous about marrying Brian, that she was concerned that he was too much for her.”

  “In what way?”

  “He had a big personality, very outgoing, life of the party. Everyone loved him. He was a photographer. He had his own studio in town, and he was always busy. He was quite the talker. Sometimes I think he talked Kelly into marrying him.”

  “What’s Kelly like?”

  “She’s friendly and sweet, super generous, the biggest heart ever. She’s intense and driven but not in the same bold, colorful way that Brian was. They were opposites, but they made a good pair.”

  “Did you have doubts about them getting to gether?”

  “A few. But I liked Brian. And I liked seeing Kelly happy. She wanted a husband and a family, and she was ready to settle down. She would make an awesome mother. You should have seen her with Justin.” She felt another wave of sadness at another broken relationship. “He misses her a lot. I don’t think he knows what’s happened; he just thinks Kelly moved away.”

  “Brian and Kelly both grew up here?”

  “Yes, but Brian was three years older than Kelly, so they didn’t look at each other in a romantic way until about two years ago.” She took another swig of her beer and popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth. The warm, cheesy, buttery taste was quite comforting. “That was good.”

  “Not exactly gourmet.”

  “Sometimes simple is the best. I tend to make my life far too complicated. I bet you don’t do that. You’re much more straightforward and analytical, the kind of guy who always takes the shortest route between point A and point B.”

  “Why does that sound like an insult?” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  “It was actually a compliment. I’m impulsive, which can lead to a bad decision, and then I make another bad decision to make up for the first one.”

  He grinned. “You want to get more specific?”

  “Well, getting pregnant at nineteen was pretty stupid. Moving in with Connor and pretending we could be a family was another bad idea. I wasted too many years trying to get that to work. In reality, we were far better off apart. We make better friends than lovers.”

  “Maybe you and Keith will be both—friends and lovers,” he said, taking a long drink of his beer as he propped his legs on the coffee table.

  She didn’t want to talk about Keith with Gabe sitting so close, his nearness sending little shivers of awareness down her spine. “Maybe.” She got up from the couch and moved across the room to Rob’s record collection. “We need some music.” She flipped through the rack. “What decade would you like?”

  “You pick.”

  The records that Rob had acquired over the years were from their parents, their grandparents, garage sales, and flea markets. She’d teased him about his collection, saying that he was living in the dark ages. To which he’d replied, “Sometimes I need an escape to a simpler time and place.” Well, she needed that escape now.

  “This one,” she said with a nostalgic smile as she pulled a record off the rack. She pressed it against her chest as she looked at Gabe. “My mom and dad used to have big parties when Rob and I were really little, when they were still in love. We used to sneak into the room and hide behind the couch and listen to their talk. Everyone in town would be there. They’d drink wine, and they’d laugh and dance. This was my father’s favorite song. He’d put it on, hold out his hand to my mom, and then he’d twirl her around the room. Sometimes they even kissed. I thought it was so romantic. I wanted that kind of love. At the time, I didn’t know it wouldn’t last.”

  She pulled out the old record player, blew some dust away from the needle, and put on the record. A moment later, a scratchy but beautiful melody took her back about twenty years.

  “‘Moon River,’” Gabe said with a laugh. “How appropriate.”

  She laughed. “Would my dad have chosen anything else? It makes you feel like you’re in another time, doesn’t it?” She swayed with the music, lost in thought, only to be brought back to awareness when Gabe got up from the couch and held out his hand to her, in much the same way that her father had done with her mother.

  She should not have taken his hand. It was a very bad idea, but when his fingers curled around hers, she went willingly into his arms. She put her arm around his neck as he pulled her against his chest, so close she could have sworn she heard his heart beating—or maybe that was hers.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “It’s just a dance.”

  She tried to relax, but that was easier said than done. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, trying to remember the past, watching her mom and dad dance, feeling loved and protected and happy. But the present was much more compelling. The man holding her in his arms was very, very real. His chest was solid, muscular. His body had power, strength. He was holding her tenderly, but it wouldn’t take much to turn that gentleness into passion.

  She had to resist. Gabe was the wrong man for her. He’d told her that. She’d told herself that. They were in complete agreement.

  But she could feel his muscles tensing. His lips brushed the top of her head. His arms tightened around her. Oh, God—she wanted to kiss him, wanted to lift her gaze to his, to cover his mouth with her own. Her heart began to pound faster as temptation filled every breath. She’d told Gabe that she was too impulsive, that she made bad decisions, and she could sense another one coming on.

  She raised her head so she could look at him.

  His dark eyes met hers, and she saw the desire there. She licked her lips. He uttered a small, sensual groan, his body hardening against hers. His fingers gripped her waist like he never intended to let her go, and then he breathed her name. “Alicia.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Gabe’s gaze dropped to her mouth. And then, suddenly, they were kissing, long, deep, soulful kisses that shook her to her core, that made it hard to breathe, that made everything fade away but his touch, his taste. She was at passion’s mercy. Every yearning thought she’d ever had about him kept her going back for more and more.

  Then a shrill, screeching noise broke through the romantic haze in her brain, too loud to ignore. Gabe jerked away from her, breathing hard,
his eyes as dazed and confused as she felt. It took her a moment to realize that the record was stuck on the word river, playing it over and over and over again.

  Gabe turned to the stereo and pulled up the arm. Quiet filled the room. Tense, unnerving silence. He drew in a long breath and then let it out as he turned back to look at her. “I’m—”

  “Don’t apologize,” she said quickly. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry.”

  He stared back at her, his expression a mix of anger, regret, and a little frustration, which pretty much mirrored everything she was feeling.

  “What do you want me to say?” he asked.

  “Don’t say anything. It was a kiss, and it’s over.”

  “It was a hell of a lot more than a kiss, Alicia.”

  She met his gaze. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this,” she corrected. “I’m with Keith.” What kind of a woman was she, making out with another man when she was supposed to be exclusive with Keith? At least, she thought they were exclusive. They hadn’t actually defined their relationship, but they certainly hadn’t been seeing other people.

  “You don’t love Keith,” Gabe said.

  “Yes, I do,” she replied defensively. “This was just a moment of temporary insanity.”

  “You still want me.”

  “And you want me. But where does that get us? You’re not a small-town guy. You’re not cut out to be a husband and a father. Isn’t that what you told me before? Has that changed?” His hesitation was one beat too long. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “Thanks for dinner.”

  She walked across the room and threw open the front door. When she hit the porch, she saw smoke, and her pulse leaped in terror at the flicker of flames through the trees. “Oh, my God, the house is on fire!”

  Eleven

  Alicia, wait!” Gabe yelled, but she ignored him as she ran across the yard.

  The flames were getting bigger, the smoke thicker. What if her father was home? What if Keith had dropped Justin off? Fear lent wings to her feet. But as she made it through the thick line of trees, she realized that it wasn’t the house that was on fire; it was the office building and the boatyard by the pier.