Her Hidden Legacy

by Danica Favorite

  He wrapped Evan in a hug so tight he sucked air through clenched teeth once again.

  For a moment, though, he allowed himself to relax and forget about the last four weeks, and how anxiety and loneliness had taken up residence in his soul.

  Dad released him and looked at him through misty eyes. Then, noticing the sling bracing his left arm against his body, he frowned. “What happened?”

  Before he could respond, his older brothers, Jake and Tucker, rallied around them with Jake’s pregnant wife, Tori, and Tucker’s fiancée, Isabella, shadowing them. His six-year-old twin niece and nephew, Olivia and Landon, barreled into his legs. “Uncle Evan!”

  He knelt on the grass and wrapped both of them in a one-armed hug. “Hey, monkeys. I think you’ve grown two feet since I saw you last.”

  Livie, her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, grinned, exposing missing teeth. She cupped his cheek. “Uncle Evan, you’re so silly. We were born with two feet.”

  “What happened to your arm?” Landon pointed to the blue sling.

  “While practicing for a race, I cared more about my buddy gaining on me than watching where I was going. I hit a dead tree in the water and flipped my kayak, dislocating my shoulder. I had surgery about a month ago.”

  “Surgery? Why didn’t you say something? I would have been there for you.” Dad frowned. Despite his level tone, Evan heard what he wasn’t saying.

  Yeah, he should have called and told him about the surgery. But it was his mess. He couldn’t depend on anyone else to help fix his problems.

  Evan pushed to his feet. “You have enough to worry about with the Fatigues to Farming program starting up.”

  Dad gave him a pointed look. “You’re my son. Nothing is more important than family. Nothing.”

  Glancing at the people watching them, Evan shrugged and tried not to wince. He wanted to believe his father’s words, but experience had taught him he was better off handling things on his own.

  “You always were so independent.”

  Not always by choice.

  Dad pulled him into another hug, gentler this time. Then he grabbed two bottles of water out of the round tub of slushy ice, slid an arm around his shoulders and drew him away from the crowd.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Ev. How long are you staying?”

  Evan let out a breath.

  Home.

  Where was that exactly?

  Even though he’d grown up on the dairy farm, it hadn’t quite felt like home since the tornado nearly destroyed the place and killed their mother seven years ago.

  Without Mom, his strongest supporter, it just wasn’t the same.

  Braceleting River’s leash, Evan jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Well, I brought the Water Wagon, so I guess I’m like a turtle—my home is always with me.”

  Dad handed him one of the bottles of water. “That’s great when you’re on the road, chasing after competitions, but for as long as you’re here, stay at the farmhouse and let us take care of you. You know Claudia won’t have it any other way.”

  As if on cue, his stepmother’s infectious laughter caught the breeze. Marrying Evan’s mother’s best friend since college had been good for his dad...for both of them. He and Claudia understood grief and the beauty of second chances.

  Evan’s gaze drifted toward the old farmhouse that had been in the family for three generations, untouched by the tornado’s destruction.

  He didn’t want to refuse the invitation, but he’d kind of gotten used to coming and going whenever he wanted since leaving home to fulfill his paddling dreams. And, well, the RV had become his refuge when he couldn’t sleep and the walls started closing in. During those nights, he’d climb on top and stretch out under the stars to level out his breathing.

  He couldn’t do that from inside the farmhouse.

  “Thanks, Dad. I don’t want to put you out. I’ll park the Water Wagon on my piece of property and stay out of everyone’s way.” Evan uncapped the water bottle and downed half of the icy liquid.

  Dad pointed the bottle at him. “You’re never in the way. I want you here. For as long as you want to stay.”

  What Evan wanted and what he’d settled for had been two different things.

  Evan swallowed an uncharacteristic lump in his throat and lifted his eyes to the apple orchard hemming the backyard, branches heavy with ripening fruit. “Thanks, Dad.”

  As if sensing Evan’s shift in emotions, River leaned against his leg and Evan ran his fingers over the dog’s fur.

  “You’re good with him.” Dad lowered to his haunches and rested his elbows on his knees.

  Evan patted River’s side. “He’s a good boy. Found him abandoned by the river about six months ago, half-starved. Not sure which one of us rescued the other.”

  “He knows your triggers.”

  “Triggers for what?”

  His father eyed him. “Don’t play me, Ev. I may be getting older, but I’m no fool. River senses your anxiety and calms you.”

  Heat flashed across Evan’s face. And here he thought he was coming off cool and collected. He never could pull a fast one on his dad.

  “After the accident...”

  Evan’s heart rate picked up as the memory of the roaring water thundered in his ears, crashing over him. His kayak flipping. He plunged beneath the surface, slamming his head and shoulder against an underwater rock. His foot caught in the downed tree limbs. Pinned. Trapped.

  Surges of water choked his throat. Couldn’t breathe. Air. He needed air.

  “Evan. You okay?”

  Something wet and warm nudged his hand.

  Evan’s eyes flew open.

  Early-evening sunshine and farmland replaced the churning icy river.

  Dad watched him, deep lines etching his forehead and bracketing his mouth.

  Pulling in ragged breaths, Evan scrubbed a shaking hand over his face, his skin slick and clammy. He forced his heaving chest to calm and reached for River once again.

  Evan’s gaze darted around the farm, taking in guests playing cornhole, children racing with the family dogs, people sitting in lawn chairs under the shade trees. He settled on his father’s worried face.

  With his arms crossed over his chest, Dad frowned. “How long have you been experiencing PTSD symptoms?”

  “PT—what? No way. Not me.” Evan shook his head, then dropped his gaze to the grass. “I’ve never served in the military. They wouldn’t take me, remember?”

  Another reminder he didn’t fit in with his God-loving, country-serving family.

  “Servicemen and -women aren’t the only ones who deal with PTSD. Any kind of trauma can cause it. Including an accident. And the way River just responded to you makes me think you could be an asset to a side project we’re developing within our Fatigues to Farming program if you’re planning to stay awhile.”

  “How so?”

  “Tuck’s sister-in-law, Willow, approached us about partnering with Zoe Sullivan at Canine Companions and training her rescued dogs to be paired with veterans going through our program.”

  “Dad, I’m a paddler, not a dog trainer.”

  Was a paddler.

  “You’re an animal whisperer—you always have been. Even growing up, when you became too stressed out, we could find you outside romping with the dogs, petting calves inside the barn and brushing down the horses. Planning to stick around for a bit?”

  Evan nodded toward his sling. “Can’t paddle with a bum shoulder. I need this for a couple more weeks, then I’ll go through physical therapy to regain range of motion in my arm. With this season definitely cut short for me, I figured I’d hang out with the family for a while and see what my future holds.”

  Dad placed a large, callused hand on the back of Evan’s neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry. I know what being on the water means
to you. I wish you’d told me about your accident. No one should go through that alone. I would’ve been there for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad. But you have a lot going on right now.”

  “Like I said—there’s nothing more important than family. Remember that. What do you think about working with Zoe and Natalie, and helping us to develop this component of the program?”

  If he wasn’t on the water, his next favorite place was hanging out with River, who didn’t judge him for all the failures in his life.

  He glanced at Dad. “Natalie who?”

  “Bishop. You two were close once, weren’t you?”

  At the confirmation of her name, his heart jammed in his throat. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember the softness of her skin, the way her ponytail brushed her graceful neck and the flicker that sparked in her eyes when she’d asked about his injury. Seconds before she hurried away.

  He rubbed a fist over his breastbone. “Close enough that I wanted to marry her. But she blamed me for Ben’s death.”

  “You didn’t force Ben to enlist. And what happened in the Middle East wasn’t your fault.”

  “She thinks I talked him into it.”

  “You and Ben were tight and he listened to you, but the kid made up his own mind.”

  “After Nat and I broke up, I heard she’d left Shelby Lake. When did she return home?”

  “Coach Ted had a heart attack a month or so ago and needed a double bypass. Natalie came home to take over managing the kennels until Ted’s recovered. But I hadn’t seen her until today when she and Ted visited for a bit. He was getting tired, so they left.”

  “Yeah, I ran into her as I was coming in. Didn’t see Coach, though.”

  “Perhaps working together will mend fences between the two of you.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Her response to his suggestion of coffee hadn’t been too well received.

  “Never underestimate the power of God, son. Let’s grab some food before Claudia accuses me of keeping you to myself.” Dad looped an arm around his shoulders.

  Evan grabbed River’s leash and his water bottle, and followed his father back to the horde, bracing himself for his stepmother’s hug and extraordinary ability to see what he wasn’t ready to share.

  Maybe coming home wouldn’t be so bad.

  He could take the next few months to focus on healing. If God wanted to provide a miracle that would return him to the water before the season ended, he wouldn’t turn it down.

  With his paddling career on hold—maybe permanently—he’d be open to helping his family develop the service dog project for their Fatigues to Farming program. That way, he’d be filling his time with something meaningful rather than feeding his self-pity.

  And it would be a great opportunity to show Natalie he wasn’t the man she’d known in the past.

  Would she even want to know the man he had become?

  If he could ever earn her forgiveness, then maybe they could have the future they’d once dreamed about.

  * * *

  Natalie was about to lose everything.

  And she had no one to blame but herself.

  She refilled Jasper’s stainless steel water bowl and set it inside his freshly cleaned kennel. Then she moved on to April’s suite.

  After tossing and turning most of the night, Natalie must have finally dozed off in the early-morning hours, just in time to be awakened by her five-thirty alarm.

  No matter how busy she stayed with cleaning the individual sleeping suites for the dogs they boarded at Bishop Boarding & Kennels, freshening the dog beds with clean blankets, and refilling their bowls with food and water, she still couldn’t get Evan Holland out of her mind.

  The man wandered through her dreams like a vagrant.

  The town that had once been her sanctuary now felt like a prison. No wonder she had left after ending her relationship with Evan over five years ago. Too many memories.

  Since returning after her father’s heart attack, she hadn’t dared leave their home for fear of running into the Hollands. But soon before closing the veterinary clinic for the weekend, her mother was needed for emergency surgery, so Natalie reluctantly agreed to take her father to Chuck’s party, taking solace in the belief that Evan was supposed to be battling the rapids across the country.

  Not that she kept track.

  Her father followed his career and mentioned it casually every now and then.

  Feeling safe from her past for a couple of hours at least, she ventured out so her dad could celebrate his friend’s birthday. But the moment she let down her guard, she had run into the one person she hadn’t wanted to see.

  Literally.

  And all the feelings and emotions she kept locked away escaped, nearly crushing her on the drive home. Thankfully, her father, who still tired easily after his surgery, was in the car already and hadn’t seen Evan.

  She didn’t have to hang around for that reunion.

  She simply needed to avoid him until he ditched his family for another kayaking adventure. Even though Shelby Lake wasn’t that big a town, surely they’d be able to stay out of each other’s way. And it wasn’t like she had to stay holed up at her parents’ house forever. Just until her dad was back on his feet.

  Then she could return to the small house she rented from her aunt in southwestern New York, just over the Pennsylvania border, and resume the dog training business she’d been growing over the last few years.

  And keep past memories tucked back in the deep corners of her mind where they caused the least amount of pain.

  If only it were that easy.

  She really needed to stop thinking about Evan.

  Yeah, that was like commanding her heart to stop beating.

  Having filled the last dog’s bowl with fresh water, Natalie left the air-conditioned building and headed for the secured leash-free turf play yard. She guided Jasper, a sable-colored German shepherd, April, a fawn-colored English bulldog, and Gypsy Rose, a tan puggle, back inside to eat breakfast.

  Once they had been secured in their suites, she crossed the yard and headed for the back door that led into the kitchen of her parents’ house.

  Natalie scrubbed her hands and forearms, then dried them. From the fridge she retrieved a package of turkey bacon, a carton of egg whites, a bag of baby spinach and a container of diced, colored peppers.

  She opened the bacon and laid strips on the cast-iron rectangular griddle positioned on the long center burner in the middle of the stove.

  The front doorbell rang.

  Natalie’s heart pulsed against her ribs as her fingers curled around the tongs she used to move the bacon.

  Stop. You’re safe.

  Dropping the tongs on the counter, she flicked off the heat, released a breath and headed to the front door. With hands still trembling slightly, she steeled her spine and opened it.

  Willow, her best friend since elementary school and her mother’s associate at the veterinary clinic, stood on the black semicircular welcome mat. She was dressed in a cute flowered sundress and pink flats, her white medical jacket hanging over her left arm.

  Natalie nearly sagged against the door frame. “Hey, Will. Come in.”

  Willow stepped inside and lifted her nose, her ponytail brushing against her shoulders. “I smell cookies. You baked.”

  “Yup, I made oatmeal scotchies last night. I wrapped up a plate of them that Aidan and I will deliver to the clinic after breakfast. But you should be smelling bacon now. I just put some on the griddle.”

  “Maybe so, but you bake when you’re stressed. So what’s going on?”

  “You have a good nose.”

  Her friend shot her a grin. “When it comes to cookies, I do.”

  Natalie led the way into the kitchen and motioned for Willow to sit at the table n
ext to the window looking out into the backyard.

  Returning to the stove, Natalie turned on the heat and flipped the bacon. Then she moved to the dog-shaped cookie jar on the opposite counter, put a handful of oatmeal cookies on a plate and placed it on the table in front of her friend.

  “You’re stalling.” Willow fisted a hand on her hip.

  Natalie headed to the cabinet by the sink for two mugs and filled them with freshly brewed coffee. She handed one to Willow, who stirred in sugar and creamer. “Evan Holland waltzed in as I was leaving Chuck’s party to bring Dad home.”

  Willow’s eyes widened. “How’d that go?”

  “As well as you’d expect.” After adding milk to her cup, Natalie set her coffee on the counter and turned off the griddle. She quickly chopped spinach leaves, then pulled a skillet out of the cabinet next to the stove and let it heat. She poured in egg whites, and tossed in the spinach and peppers.

  Willow broke a cookie in half and nibbled on a corner. “How is he? How did he look? Did you talk to him? Did you have Aidan with you?”

  “Aidan spent the afternoon with Aunt Diane. I picked him up after Mom finished her surgery. Evan and I were pleasant, but I didn’t stick around for any heart-to-heart conversations.” Natalie reached for a spatula and folded the egg whites into an omelet. She slid it onto a plate, trying not to dwell on that initial zing in her stomach at seeing the man who had left her heartbroken a handful of years ago.

  Although, noticing his arm in a sling, she did feel bad for his situation and could only imagine what he was feeling being away from the water. The flash of pain in his eyes when he casually mentioned his surgery made Natalie wonder just what had happened. And then when he suggested coffee... Oh, she could not let herself travel down that path again.

  “Please tell me you’re not still blaming Evan for what happened to Ben?”

  She shook her head. “I reacted from a place of pain. Simply put, Evan and I wanted two different things. I wanted roots and security, and Evan wanted adventure.”