What Hope Remembers

by Johnnie Alexander

  “What do you mean, you’re the same?” Brett asked. Even he seemed confused.

  “We both stayed in a hosp—” Jonah began.

  “Hotel,” Amy broke in. “We both stayed in a hotel when we . . . when we went on vacation. Didn’t we, Jonah?”

  Amy stared at the boy and he stared back, then he nodded his head slowly. “Yeah. That’s what we did.”

  “Always fun staying at a hotel,” Gabe said lamely.

  The eddy beneath the conversation swirled around and between them. Brett, engrossed with the shrimp on his plate, seemed to regret asking the question, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what Jonah had intended to say.

  Not hotel but hospital.

  So why had he and Amy both been in the hospital? And why didn’t she want Gabe to know?

  Not that it was any of his business. He wasn’t here to get entangled in the lives of these people. Especially not Amy’s, since she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

  He only wanted to help Tess spruce up her property while he figured out the next chapter in his life. For now, God alone knew what the future held, and he wasn’t telling. All Gabe could do was pray that this time he made the right decisions, did the right things.

  In quietness and trust is my strength.

  His paraphrase of the Isaiah verse gave him hope that the answers would eventually come.

  Gabe’s own plan for his life certainly hadn’t worked out. One reckless moment, and the path he’d been on had been destroyed.

  Now he wished he’d stayed at Tess’s this evening. Sprawling on the sofa with a remote in one hand and a sports drink in the other was preferable to maneuvering around the Somers family landmines.

  “Gabe?” Amy said softly.

  “Beg your pardon.”

  “I just asked what you do,” Brett said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “How would I?”

  “Guess you wouldn’t.” Gabe forced a tight smile. “I’m kind of between jobs right now. So it seemed a good time to visit Tess. Help out around her place. What about you?”

  “Property development. Investments. That kind of thing.”

  “Don’t let Brett mislead you,” Amy said. “He’s put his company on autopilot. Who knows what will be left of it by the time he returns. If he ever does.”

  “I talk to my assistant every day,” Brett said, then looked sheepish. “Almost every day. Nothing’s on autopilot.”

  “It’s not the way Sully did things.”

  “I’m not Sully. And I don’t want to be.”

  Gabe shifted in his seat. Maybe he should make an excuse and leave the siblings to their spat. Besides, he’d been sitting too long.

  Brett must have noticed his discomfort. “Sorry,” he said. “We’re having a difference of opinion on my current management style.”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Gabe said. “I need to stretch my legs a bit anyway.” He nodded, then left the living room. As he entered the hall, a young woman asked if she could take his plate. He handed it to her, then looked around the hallway. A stairway to his right led up to the second floor. He rubbed his hand against the banister’s polished wood.

  He and Nate had slid down this banister a few times during their furtive hijinks all those years ago. The house had been broken then, debris covering the floors and strange haunting noises coming from the attic. Probably nothing more dangerous than a few squirrels, but boys being boys, they’d concocted a couple of eerie ghost stories.

  The murmur of multiple conversations came from the room across the hall, but Gabe had no desire to chitchat with anyone. As he stood in the foyer, undecided what to do, two young girls followed by a yellow retriever entered through the front door, and a cool breeze wafted through the hall.

  That was where he wanted to be. Outside. Breathing fresh air.

  He couldn’t get enough of it.

  4

  Amy’s mind swirled with conflicting thoughts as Gabe left the room. He was only a year older than she was, so he should be on some kind of career ladder. Yet he’d neatly dodged Brett’s question about his profession. Evasiveness always piqued her interest. Every experienced lobbyist knew the benefit of ferreting out hidden information. One never knew when it might come in handy.

  Her curiosity had nothing to do with Gabe personally. Only with what he was hiding.

  “Did you try these jalapeño poppers?” Brett asked, his voice a little too disinterested. The family therapist had advised him not to nag, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  “I didn’t,” she said pointedly. “But I ate three garlic chicken puffs and two spinach roll-ups. Plus I had a fruit cup. Didn’t I, Jonah?”

  “Yep,” he said. “I counted.”

  “You counted?” Amy asked in disbelief. “Et tu, Brute?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  Brett tapped Jonah’s leg. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, son? Like you just lied to our new friend?”

  Jonah’s face turned red. “I didn’t want to lie. But—”

  “Don’t blame him for backing me up,” Amy said.

  Brett took a bite of the cheesy popper. Amy could practically see the wheels turning as he weighed his possible responses. He was new to all this dad stuff. Just like she was new to all this aunt stuff. Neither of them wanted to make any mistakes.

  “I didn’t want a stranger knowing my business,” she said.

  “He’s not exactly a stranger. Didn’t you have a crush on him once?”

  Brett couldn’t have known that. Could he? If so, she needed to distract him, to keep his focus on Jonah. Besides, even she had to admit it was wrong to encourage her nephew to lie.

  “I’m sorry, Jonah,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. There was no need to.”

  “No, it was my fault,” Brett said. “I put you on the spot. But no more lying, okay, buddy?”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “Later you can tell Mr. Kendall you’re sorry.” Brett elbowed Amy. “Don’t you think he should?”

  “You think I should apologize to him, don’t you?”

  “Don’t you want to set a good example?”

  She resisted the urge to throttle him, but it wasn’t easy. Were all big brothers this annoying? “You’ve become too honest,” she whispered.

  “What can I say? It’s the new me.”

  She gave an exasperated sigh, then stood. For Jonah’s sake, she’d confess one of the two lies she’d told Gabe today.

  “I’m going to mingle,” she said. “Don’t leave without telling me good-bye.”

  “I won’t,” Jonah promised.

  “See you later, gator.”

  “After while, ’dile.”

  Amy squeezed Jonah’s knee. Their version of the silly farewell began the first time they’d met. Feeling ill-at-ease and wanting to appear cool, she’d gotten it wrong. Jonah teased her about the goof, and now it was their thing. Just hers and Jonah’s.

  She reached the doorway, then looked back. Brett and his mini-me son sat side-by-side on the sofa, heads bent over Jonah’s game.

  In a moment like this, seeing her brother with his son, Amy could forgive Brett for wanting a different life than the one he’d been leading. And because he was Brett, he’d gotten what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

  He had Jonah for several weeks while his mom was away. And Brett had married Dani, the only woman who’d been able to capture his heart. They were deeply in love, and he adored her.

  But Amy’s luck was never as good as her brother’s. Not in life. Not in love.

  She stepped into the hall as Gabe went outside. She smoothed her dress, straightened her shoulders, and followed him onto the porch.

  He turned at the sound of the door opening behind him and leaned casually against the wooden column.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked.

  “Please do.”

  She perched on the railing and smiled
up at him. “I haven’t been honest with you.”

  “About what?” He gave her a quizzical look, but both his expression and his voice told Amy that he knew exactly “about what.” At least he thought he did. She’d been dishonest about two things, but she’d confess the minor one. The other one could wait. Maybe forever.

  “Jonah was going to say hospital.”

  “So I guessed.”

  “He was in a car accident last year. A serious one. The injuries were severe, and he was in a coma for about three months.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I wouldn’t have known from seeing him just now.”

  “He’s made a great recovery. But it hasn’t been easy. And now his parents are a little overprotective.”

  “Understandable.”

  “They fuss over him all the time. It’s annoying.”

  “Were you driving?”

  “Driving what?”

  “The car. Jonah’s accident.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head. “We didn’t even know Jonah then.”

  “You didn’t know . . . but I thought . . .”

  “I see your aunt hasn’t filled you in on our dirty laundry.”

  “She’s not one to do that.”

  “Short version. After Jonah’s accident, Brett found out he was the dad. He and Meghan—that’s Jonah’s mom—are doing their best to co-parent despite their past history.”

  “I take it the history isn’t pleasant.”

  “It’s not. But they’ve put it behind them. It hasn’t hurt that Brett is a newlywed and Meghan is working again. Jonah is living with Brett while his mom is in New York at an artist’s retreat.”

  “So you weren’t involved in the accident?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve been in the hospital too?”

  “More like a clinic.” Amy gauged his expression, knowing the thoughts running through his mind. Rehab. Alcohol. Drugs. Maybe both. His eyes studied hers, but she didn’t glance away. She needed to know how he judged her.

  “You don’t owe me any explanations,” he said. “I just hope you’re better.”

  His noncommittal statement held a clear message—he wasn’t interested in prying into her past. Perhaps his own reserve cooled his curiosity, or maybe he just didn’t care. Though her finely honed people instincts told her that wasn’t true.

  “Thank you,” she said, hoping he knew how much she meant it. “I am.”

  A comfortable silence surrounded them for a few moments. A curiously comfortable silence given how ill at ease she’d been with him at the creek. His showing up like that, seemingly out of nowhere, had stunned her.

  The teen she’d known was no longer a boy, but a man whose hazel eyes, in this moment, held her captive.

  Inexplicably, she wanted to take his hand. To relive the memory of their only kiss while sharing another.

  She blew out a soft breath, releasing the longing into the evening breeze.

  “Why are you really here?” she asked.

  “Tess invited me.”

  “I don’t mean here. I mean”—she waved her hands to encompass the countryside—“here. Visiting your aunt.”

  “She needs me.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently you haven’t been to the stables in a while.”

  Not since I was thirteen. Dad was there too, that long-ago day, talking to Rusty. As Amy had ridden around the paddock for her lesson, hope soared within her. Dad had promised to buy her a horse, and she was certain he was making an offer on Marigold. Soon she would have her very own horse.

  But then Dad had unexpectedly gone on that trip with Mom. Their plane crashed. No one survived.

  And she’d never gone back to the stables.

  She gave an involuntary shudder.

  “Are you cold?” Gabe’s tone held more surprise than concern. No wonder. The sun hung low in the sky, but its heat still warmed the summer air.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You seemed lost there for a minute.”

  “Maybe I was. You said something about the stables.”

  “Only that the place is a little run-down.” He snorted a strange sound. “A lot run-down. It’s so different than I remembered, than I imagined it when . . . I guess I’ve been away too long.”

  Amy nodded in understanding, allowing her thoughts to briefly touch the canopy memories. The lessons at the stables had been her refuge, the bright spot of her childhood. She could be most herself while riding, could whisper her heartaches into silky ears while brushing out a long mane.

  Those were good days, days too precious to be exposed to remembrance. So she skirted the edges, recalling the whitewashed fencing, pristine and gleaming. The lovely flowerbeds that Gran admired. The irises—yes—Gran had taken irises to Tess. The women had planted them together while Amy sat on the fence and gazed over the pasture. Wishing with all her heart that this was her home, here, with the horses and the sun-scented breezes. How she longed to be with the horses every day instead of when it was convenient.

  Mom’s life held too much flurry, too many other appointments or plans for shopping and meeting friends for lunch, to drive Amy “all the way out to those smelly stables.” But Dad and Gran tried to get her there as often as they could.

  Dad because he loved his daughter. And to assuage his guilt.

  Gran because she loved her granddaughter. And pitied her.

  She sensed their feelings, but their guilt and pity didn’t matter. Nothing did once she crossed beneath that arched iron entryway into Whisper Lane Stables. This was her magical world. All the anger, the stomach upset, the turmoil of her home life was forgotten. For a few hours, she could pretend nothing existed except this reality of horses and Tess’s homemade cookies.

  She pushed the memories beneath the canopy where they belonged. Safe and hidden.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t notice,” Gabe said. “You have to see it every time you leave your driveway.”

  “I avoid looking.” She didn’t want to talk about the stables anymore, didn’t want to know the place she’d loved so much was no longer perfect.

  A pang unexpectedly struck her. Was that how Shelby felt when she returned to Misty Willow and saw her grandparents’ house in such disrepair?

  Amy tried to shake the thought away. The situations were totally different.

  Shelby’s was worse.

  No wonder she’d been angry with the Sullivans. With AJ. Her grandparents’ home was taken away from them and then abandoned until Shelby reclaimed it. She had wanted nothing more than to raise her children in that house. But then she turned it over to a nonprofit foundation rather than take a chance on losing it again.

  Amy’s plan was to develop the property into an upscale retreat, and she still smarted from being outwitted by a goody-two-shoes mom.

  If AJ hadn’t fallen in love with Shelby, Amy might not have given up so easily.

  How different things would be if the events of the past year had turned out the way Amy wanted instead of how they did.

  She’d still be in her Columbus high-rise apartment. Still plotting and scheming as part of her high-profile lobbyist job. She’d have her sights set on Washington and how she could become part of that glittering society.

  But after her collapse, she never returned to the firm. All her plans had been ruined, leaving her alone and lonelier than she’d ever been in her life.

  5

  She avoids looking?

  Gabe turned away, biting his lip so he wouldn’t say something he might regret. Must be nice to put on blinders and ignore what’s going on right across the road. Spoiled and overindulged, Amy Somers probably didn’t know or care that military personnel fought every day to protect her from threats she’d never know about. Or that some people were so desperate they risked everything for the sake of their families.

  He glanced back at her and immediately checked his rising anger. With her blonde hair flowing past her shoulders and backlit by the sun’s
low rays, she resembled a golden statue. Her arms were clasped around her slender body—her expression stoic yet sad.

  It was how she’d stood at her parents’ memorial in the moments before he stepped beside her and reached for her hand.

  The same impulse that had gripped him then gripped him now. But in his childish innocence, the boy could offer solace for her heartbreak. The man could no longer do that. Not when she claimed to have forgotten the memories that meant so much to him. Not when she’d grown up to be more beautiful than he could ever have imagined.

  A city girl, Tess had called her. Definitely not the gal for a guy who’d traveled the road he had.

  She abruptly faced him. “What happened to the stables?”

  He could think of no reason to downplay the truth. “After Rusty died, the upkeep was more than Tess could do on her own.”

  “Then why didn’t you come back sooner?”

  “The Marine Corps wouldn’t let me.” Not exactly a lie. He’d been stationed in Afghanistan when he received news of Rusty’s death. His leave had been too short to do much more than attend the funeral and help Tess with the most immediate matters.

  “You’re a Marine?”

  “Why do you sound so surprised?” Maybe because his dream had been to have a horse farm of his own one day. Or maybe because his dad was career Air Force. Since she didn’t remember him, she wouldn’t know either of those things. And yet his heart told him she did.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised. You have the look of a soldier.” Her lips curved into a teasing smile, and she gently tugged his hair. “Except for this.”

  Tantalized by her intoxicating perfume, he wanted to take her hand and caress her scented wrist. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “Not a soldier—a Marine. I guess, after my discharge, I got a little scraggly.”

  “Scraggly looks good on you.”

  “You’re not flirting with me, are you, ma’am?” he said in an exaggerated drawl. He couldn’t help giving her the once-over. Her stylish dress, a vibrant blue that enhanced her eyes, skimmed her body then slightly flared above her knees. “Not that I mind.”