He stood straight and strutted to the car despite a lightning bolt of pain shooting through him with every step. “Thanks for everything, especially for putting up with me,” he told the nurse.
The look exchanged between the two women didn’t go unnoticed.
The nurse gripped the handles of the empty wheelchair. “Take care of yourself. Give those bones some time to heal.”
“Will do,” Brendan said, but his mind was on his motorcycle and the open road. This was no life for a guy like Brendan. Through his travels, he’d seen tougher times than this. This was only a bump in the road.
Twenty minutes later, the door to Brendan’s childhood room swung open as his mother chattered nervously. “I’ve already changed the sheets,” his mother said. “You know where everything is.”
At least he’d be able to sleep tonight without the endless visits by the nurses.
His mom stood in the doorway beaming, her clogs planted on the tan carpet.
“I think I’m going to get some rest,” he said.
The corners of her lips turned down. “Oh, of course. Of course.”
He grimaced as he wrapped his arm around his mom’s shoulder. “You’ve been absolutely amazing through this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leaned down and kissed his mom on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
His mom’s laugh tinkled through the room, and she gently hugged him back. “It’s good to have you back.”
After a fitful nap, Brendan made the painful walk toward the bathroom. He pressed his hand against the floral wallpaper. The pain radiated up and down his torso. He gritted his teeth and continued his trek. After years of his life moving at warp speed, someone was holding down the slow-motion button.
“I’ll check the playroom.” Will’s voice drifted in from the kitchen.
Brendan froze. He didn’t have enough time to duck into a bedroom. When Will appeared around the corner, his brother faltered like he might turn around, but it was too late.
Brendan lifted his chin in a weak attempt to hide the pain of his injuries. “Hi, Will.”
Will cleared his throat. “Hey.” His eyes darted around the hall. “Abby left Mr. Bunny here yesterday. Somehow Cassie managed to get her to bed without it.”
Thankful his youngest brother was speaking to him again, Brendan struggled to take a deep breath. “Cassie and Abby are great.”
Will’s face pointed down to the carpet as he nodded and rubbed his hand across his neck. “They’re amazing.” When Will looked up at Brendan, the tension in his face had relaxed. “Cassie is the one who has been reminding me that you’re my brother, and no matter how you’ve acted, I need to forgive you.” Will swallowed. “And I do.”
The heaviness wrapped around Brendan fell to the ground. “You do?”
“I’ve forgiven you”—Will stared at him—“but I’m not ready to have you back in my life.”
Brendan felt that old feeling of defensiveness in his chest. “I don’t know what else to do to make you see that I want to be a part of this family again.”
His brother’s eyes moved to the family photos hanging on the walls. “You can’t change fifteen years in a few weeks, Brendan. You have to give it more time.”
With the pain he was in, he couldn’t even storm away. He could only stand there and watch the disapproval on Will’s face. His brothers, sister, and parents had all been here in Wyatt Bend together. They didn’t need Brendan here. They could lean on each other. “I can’t undo any of it. All I can do is apologize and tell you I’ve changed.”
“Telling me you’ve changed isn’t enough,” Will said. “You need to prove it.”
Chapter 17
Beth hid behind the pass-through window of the diner. She drew in a nervous breath as the usual crew sat down for morning coffee. Most of them were retired. A few still ran some cattle and wore their overalls or John Deere hats to prove it.
Tammy pulled her pen from behind her ear. “You fellas might want to take a look at the menu today. Beth made a few changes.”
Ronald’s bushy white eyebrows met in the middle with his scowl. “Changes? What kind of changes?”
Tammy pulled the menus from the table and handed them to the men. “See for yourself.”
Beth smashed herself up against the wall beside the window. She couldn’t look. These men didn’t want egg-white omelets or whole-wheat french toast. They wanted pancakes, waffles, bacon, and hash browns.
She forced herself to peek back through the window.
“Beth!” Ronald said pointing at her. “Come here.”
Beth took in a gulp of air and straightened her apron. As they passed each other, Tammy gave Beth a sympathetic look and walked over to the family who’d slid into the corner booth.
The five men studied the menus, their faces all skewed. “What in world is a quiche?” Ronald asked.
The five wrinkled faces stared at her.
Beth cleared her throat. “Well, it’s a pie crust. Inside there are eggs and milk and vegetables.”
A man in a cap that read I’D RATHER BE FISHING asked, “Why’d you put all this fancy stuff on the menu?”
Beth shifted her weight. “It’s not fancy. It’s better for you. Less fried food, more whole grains, fresh fruits, and vegetables.”
Across the table, Ronald huffed. “If I wanted that kind of food, I’d stay home and have that horrible oatmeal Mildred nags me to eat.”
Beth walked around the table and leaned behind him to look at the menu. “What do you usually order? Three eggs, hash browns, and sausage, right?”
“Extra sausage,” he said.
“I’ll fix you the egg-white omelet with sausage.” Beth didn’t mention it was turkey sausage. “When Mildred is in here on Wednesday, I’ll tell her, and maybe she’ll lay off about the oatmeal.”
“I still want my coffee. Regular,” Ronald said. “None of that decaf.”
“Of course,” Beth said.
The other men ordered off the new menu, and Beth scurried to the kitchen before they changed their minds.
“You got an order for me, boss?” Oscar said, sitting on the stool reading the paper.
She pulled a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “I’ll take this one.”
Once she had the food ready, she carried the plates out to the men.
Ronald ignored her as she put their plates of food in front of them. “My great-grandson gave me his cell phone number yesterday. What business does an eight-year-old have owning a cell phone?” he asked the table of men.
The men grunted and nodded in agreement but didn’t touch their food.
“Here you go,” Beth said, slipping the plate with a steaming omelet in front of Ronald.
He stared at Beth as he unwrapped his fork and knife and dramatically tucked the paper napkin in the collar of his plaid, pearl-snap shirt. His nose moved up like a rabbit as he sniffed the plate. “Well, it doesn’t smell that bad.”
Beth pursed her lips together.
“Try it already,” the man across the table demanded. “My coffee’s getting cold.”
Beth walked behind the counter and picked up the coffeepot. She turned around to find Ronald’s mouth full and his eyes closed. Beth refilled the men’s coffees.
Ronald swallowed the bite, and the men stared at him in anticipation. “She lied to us, boys.”
Her heart sank into her chest.
Ronald’s eyes widened. “This isn’t health food. This might be better than the old stuff.”
Beth smiled and stopped herself from wrapping the old man in a bear hug. She closed her eyes and ducked her head down. “Thank you very much.”
He scowled and pointed his fork at her. “But if I ever want to go back to my old sausage and eggs, you’ll fix it for me?”
She gave him a serious nod. “Yes, sir. You let me know.”
He gave a satisfied snort and shoveled another mountain of eggs on his fork.
Brendan flipped off the sportscast and stood up from the
couch. After a week at home, his ribs ached less, but now he was bored. He paced through the house in his jeans and dark shirt. He couldn’t stand another day in sweats. He hadn’t been stuck inside this long in years.
He didn’t want to bother Beth who was busy with Chase and the restaurant. Brendan opened the french doors to his father’s home office. He’d never been allowed in the room as a kid. The twelve-point buck stared down at him from his place on the wall.
Brendan’s phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out to find an international number on the screen. He hit the button to answer the call. “Hello.”
“Brendan, this is Harry in the London office,” the caller said with a British accent.
Brendan straightened. “Hi, Harry. How have you been?”
“We’ve made a decision about the position here.” A pause lingered on the other end of the line. “We want you here, Brendan.”
Energy surged through Brendan’s chest. A position with the AP bureau in England was his dream job. He’d be living and working in new, exciting places. “That’s great.”
“We’ve fired two of our photographers,” Harry said. “We’re dramatically understaffed. Your drive and work ethic are exactly what we need around here. You’ll report Monday morning.”
His father’s leather desk chair squeaked as Brendan sat in it and leaned back. “Monday? I can’t be there on Monday. I have some things to take care of here. My brother’s getting married next week. Plus I’m still healing from the accident.”
“What kind of accident?” Harry’s tone turned serious.
Brendan touched the scar along his eyebrow. “A rappelling accident, but it was minor. A few days in the hospital. Three cracked ribs.” Brendan leaned forward and rubbed his hand through his hair. “I can’t be there in two days. I can work through the injuries, but I can’t miss my brother’s wedding.”
“It’s nonnegotiable,” Harry said, his voice hard and unyielding. “We’re in a real bind now. We have some big assignments and no photographers. If you want the job, you’ll have to find a way to get here. You’re a talented guy, but I can’t hold the job for you.”
Brendan picked up a silver picture frame from the desk. His father stood between his two brothers. Brendan didn’t need any more regrets to carry around with him. “Harry, I’ll call you back later today with a decision. You have my word.”
Chapter 18
Beth opened the massive front door of the Overmans’ home and stuck her head into the foyer. “Knock, knock,” she called out.
Brendan rounded the corner from the kitchen.
She leaned back and inspected his jeans and dark-gray button up. “Look at you. You must be feeling better.”
He froze on the tile floor. “If I feel better, does it mean I don’t get my food?”
She laughed and held the paper bag with the handle out to him. “How are the injured ribs?”
He reached an arm around her and gave her a hug before taking the food. “Getting better every day. The doctor says I’ll be able to ride my motorcycle again soon.”
The mention of Brendan’s motorcycle only reminded her he’d be leaving after Connor’s wedding. The tension pulled at the sides of her mouth. She forced a smile as she told herself things would go back to normal after he left, but it wasn’t true. Things would never be the same. She walked beside Brendan into the kitchen.
He set the bag on the counter. “I’m glad you came over because I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, his tone dark.
Her stomach tightened. “What’s wrong?”
Brendan raked his fingers through the waves in his blond hair. “Actually …” He stopped, and his eyes darted across her face. “They called today and offered me the position.”
The words shot through Beth’s body, but deep in her heart she’d expected them to come at some point. She looked down at her hands and shook her head. “And you’re going, aren’t you?”
When she looked up, his intense gaze was locked on her. “I don’t know. They told me I have to be there by Monday,” he said in a low voice.
Beth held on to the edge of the granite countertops. “Connor and Laura’s wedding is next week.”
“I know, but this has been my dream. It’s what I’ve been working for all these years.”
The lump in the back of her throat threatened to choke her. “What about making things right with your family?”
Brendan’s expression was calm except for the twitch on his chin as he tightened his jaw. “Connor will be hurt, but I hope he’ll find a way to understand.” Brendan’s chest jutted out. “And Will made it pretty clear he doesn’t think I’ve changed.”
Heat rose in Beth’s body. Brendan just didn’t get it. “This is why Will believes that. He thought you’d disappear again, and you’re about to prove him right.”
His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t easy for me, Beth.”
She crossed her arms. “You’ll never be ready to talk about this stuff. You’re either going to talk about it now and bring it to the light of day or keep it buried and carry this baggage with you everywhere you go. You’re going to alienate Connor like you alienated Will. Do you want Abby to never know her uncle Brendan?”
He stared out the kitchen window, not answering her. His silence wrung her heart.
She walked around the counter and stood behind him. “You say you rededicated your life to Christ. I know you believe in God, but more than believing in Him, do you believe Him? Do you believe what He’s promised you? Do you believe He has forgiven you? You say you want everyone to believe you’re different, but do you believe you’re different?”
Brendan turned around, but looked away from her. “I don’t want to cause anybody more pain, especially you.” His eyes met hers. “That’s why it’s better if I go.”
Every table in Canyon Café had been pushed together for the Overmans’ family dinner in celebration of next week’s wedding. Despite the noise of the restaurant, Brendan could only think of Beth and the hurt in her eyes.
After Tammy took Connor’s order, she stepped over to Brendan on the other side of the table. Her expression changed from a wide grin to a scowl. “What can I get for you?” she asked Brendan.
Brendan set his menu down and looked up at her. “Is Beth here?” His eyes searched the pass-through window for any sign of her.
Tammy stuck a hand on her hip, and her thin eyebrow rose up toward her blond hair piled on top of her head. “She’s here.”
Disappointment settled in his bones. Beth was avoiding him.
Tammy beamed a toothy smile at Connor and Laura. “Congratulations, you two. I wouldn’t miss the wedding for the world.”
He winced at the stabbing remark.
Beth glided through the swinging door of the kitchen.
The air rushed out of Brendan. She looked beautiful with her hair pulled off her face in a low ponytail. Her gaze skipped over Brendan as she walked straight to Laura. Laura stood, and the two women hugged. “Congratulations, guys. The big day is almost here.”
All the smiling faces at the table turned toward Beth. Connor stood and hugged her, and she squeezed Cassie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you are here. Can I get you anything?”
Brendan’s mom grinned at Beth. “Tammy here is taking great care of us.”
Tammy turned back to Brendan. Her face reverted to a stern glare. “Have you told everyone the big news about London?”
The air rushed out of the room and left Brendan gasping for a breath.
Beth’s eyes bounced between Tammy and Brendan. “Tammy!”
“London?” his mother said, her voice high. She looked to Beth. “What is she talking about?”
Beth gave a forced smile and walked around the table to Tammy. She linked their arms together. “Excuse us. Tammy and I need to get back to the kitchen. Tammy will be back to take your orders in a few minutes.”
Brendan tried to stand, but his mom reached over and grabbed his arm. “Beth, wait,” he called.
“What’s going on, Brendan?” his mom asked. “You’re going to London?”
Brendan stiffened like a stray backed into a corner.
Connor’s glass thudded against the table as hand fell. “When?”
Brendan swallowed, but his throat constricted. “I got a dream-job offer there, but they told me I would have to start immediately.” He forced the words from his lips. “I have a plane ticket for tomorrow.”
“When were you planning to tell us?” Will’s voice boomed above the murmur of the others.
“I only got the job offer today. I planned to tell you sometime tonight. I wanted us to enjoy dinner first.”
The legs of Will’s chair scraped against the floor. “Excuse me,” Will said to Cassie, whose mouth gaped open. Everyone’s eyes followed Will as he stormed out the front door of the restaurant.
“But you’ll miss your brother’s wedding,” his mother said, her eyes wide.
Brendan looked to Connor who gave his fiancée a reassuring look and reached for her hand.
Brendan cleared his throat. “I understand that, and I feel terrible about it.”
Connor looked up at him, his face relaxed as if he wasn’t surprised. His brother’s reaction hurt worse than his mother’s shock.
Sharon’s eyes glistened. “Brendan, no. You just got here,” his mother said. “You can’t—”
Connor scooted his chair from the table and stood behind Sharon. His hands squeezed her shoulders that had drawn up to her ears. “Mom, Brendan needs to make his own decision on this. If this job is important to him, he has a right to go.”
Brendan stood from the table, too. His mom and brother both stared at him expectantly. “And I hate it has to be this way, but it’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”
After he answered a few more questions about the job from his frantic mom, he excused himself from the table to find Will standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.
“There you are,” Brendan said as he approached Will.
Will didn’t look up from the sidewalk. He leaned on the brick wall of the hair salon next door to the restaurant. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Brendan.”
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