Make Me Whole
Oil Barrons, Book 1
Marie Johnston
LE Publishing
Copyright © 2021 by Marie Johnston
Editing by Evident Ink
Proofing by MBE, Judy’s Proofreading, and Deaton Author Services
Cover by Secret Identity Graphics
Photographer: Michelle Lancaster, @lanefotograf
www.michellelancaster.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.
Created with Vellum
I had a perfect life. Schoolteacher. Married to my high school sweetheart. Little starter house that we called charming but was really just old. All I needed was the two-point-five kids and I’d be living my perfect dream. Then my husband died.
* * *
After the funeral, I had a breakdown that lasted for a month…or twelve. But now I’m reemerging, healing, finding my way. It’s time to learn who I am now, and whether or not I can fix a leaky sink. And by my side, the entire time, is my husband’s best friend, Liam. The single dad knows a thing or two about personal struggles, and about how to replace faucets.
* * *
With Liam, I feel alive again. Confident. Capable. Liam has become my best friend too. Except if my parents, my in-laws, and the rest of the town had any say, I’d stay far away from him and his bad boy reputation.
* * *
How do I admit to them what’s so hard to admit to myself? That I’m starting to look at him like he’s more than a friend. That the heat in his eyes when he looks at me is far beyond friendly. That like it or not, Liam makes me feel whole again.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Marie Johnston
Chapter 1
Kennedy
* * *
“Did you shower today?”
I scrunched the phone between my shoulder and my ear as warmth spread through me. As long as Liam Barron kept asking me that question, I knew someone cared about me.
A lot of people cared, but it was the mischievous way he asked that meant he not only cared, he was comfortable enough with me to joke about it. “Yes, Liam. I showered. You don’t have to ask me that anymore.”
“Mmm.” His dubious low rumble went right through the phone into my ear. I suppressed a shiver. Liam had a nice voice. I’d always known it. It was just more noticeable today because I had the phone squished against my ear, so his voice was like an injection to the brain. I’d set it down, but then he’d know I was up to something.
I pulled another flannel shirt off a hanger. Hints of cedar and the fabric softener I used surrounded me. My eyelids drifted shut and I inhaled. Longing tugged at my heart, but the feeling didn’t topple me over like it used to. Didn’t mean today was easy, just that I could keep moving forward without succumbing to grief.
“Kenny.” Liam was the only one who got away with calling me Kenny instead of Kennedy. Not even my husband had given me a nickname, but as Derek’s cousin and best friend, Liam felt the need to set himself apart from everyone else in my life. As if he had to work hard to do that.
“I’m fine.” I’d been saying that to keep my mother and my in-laws from worrying for the last few months, but this time I meant it. Today was hard, but it was something I had to do. It was something I couldn’t mess up. “I really am.”
“You slept okay?”
“You don’t have to do this anymore.” I hated that he was compelled to check on me in the first place, yet I was terrified that he’d quit. And I wouldn’t tell him that he’d called at the perfect time. Liam knew how to not only stick with me in a dark place but to also see me through to the other side.
“How’s work?” he asked, undaunted.
I slipped another navy-blue polo shirt off a hanger. I discreetly sniffed the shirt. Funny how smells could unbury memories faster than a blink. I could almost feel Derek’s body heat when he’d hug me tight after he got home from work. I missed it. So damn much. Tears seared the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away. Carefully, I set the hanger down.
If Liam had one inkling of what I was doing, he’d rush over. If anyone else knew what I was doing, they’d try to talk me out of it. My mom would fret and think I was overtaxing myself. My in-laws would tell me it was fine to keep the house the way it was for eternity.
Maybe it was, but I needed to do something different with this place. I needed to feel like it was mine and not a monument to what once was and would never be again. And I needed to do it now. Emptying my husband’s side of the closet a year and a half after I watched his casket be lowered into the ground was something I had to do when I was motivated. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t let the dread build.
“Work is fine.”
“Mmm.” That rumble.
I slowly folded the polo and put it on the giveaway pile. I’d save whatever I wanted to save. When I’d first started this, I thought I’d pack Derek’s side of the closet and end up unpacking everything right back onto hangers. Maybe I still would. “What? It’s fine.”
“Kenny, it was Derek that told me that when a woman says fine, I’d better turn into a private investigator and find out what I’d done wrong.”
My lips quirked. Liam didn’t listen to anyone. Derek had been different. Liam’s grandma, Gin, was the only other exception. The town held Liam’s attitude against him, but I understood. As the illegitimate son of one of Coal Haven’s most affluent and powerful men, Liam had had a rough start. He’d tragically lost his mother when he was a baby and was raised by her parents while the rest of his family resented his presence in the world. Everyone but Derek. “Work is good. Really. I vibe really well with Marion, and she respects my experience.” Most of the time.
“But you’re still just helping the teacher and not the teacher.”
I sighed. For striking out so bad when it came to women, Liam was an incredibly perceptive friend. Just after Christmas break was over, I’d gotten a job as a paraprofessional at the school where I used to teach. Being an aide for the third-grade teacher for the last three months had been nice. She was a good teacher—proficient and competent. But helping wasn’t what I’d done before. I’d been the teacher, not the aide.
“I messed up. I have to do my time and climb back up the ladder. Wait for an opening and hope my withdrawal from life for over a year won’t be held against me.”
“You didn’t mess up; you’re too good for that. You were in mourning, and they’ll understand.”
Only time would tell how understanding my boss would be. He’d been the one who’d had to figure out what to do with an entire classroom of kids when I couldn’t stop sobbing in the bathroom and then had just walked out.
Would I land a full-time teaching gig before my bills said
time to move? I didn’t want to think about it today. “How are the boys?”
“I’m not home yet, but Grandma Gin said they’ve been pure hell.”
My laughter made the task of slipping another shirt off a hanger a little less painful. Two five-year-old kids against an ornery grandma? “I feel like they’d be more likely to say Grandma Gin has been pure hell.”
He laughed, then his tone turned serious. “She wants to put the place up for sale soon. Like in the next couple of months.”
Liam’s grandpa had died a few years ago, and Grandma Gin had floundered. Liam had helped her liquidate the cattle to pay off lingering debts. Then, he’d moved home to Coal Haven but commuted to his job on an oil field outside of Williston almost three hours away.
Each month, Liam worked a twenty-day stretch, followed by ten days off. During those ten-day periods, he’d helped Grandma Gin move to a senior living apartment and made improvements to her house. Selling it at top dollar would help keep a roof over Grandma Gin’s head. In return, she’d insisted on staying with the boys at the house while Liam worked.
“So soon?” A spark of panic flared in my chest. Those ten days Liam was home, I had a friend around. He not only called, but he stopped in. I sucked in a calming breath. I’d always have Liam and the boys, no matter where he lived.
I’d miss his regular visits though.
His deep chuckle wound through the phone and eased my anxiety. “It’s been over three years since I moved back, Kenny.”
“I know, it’s just… It’s been nice having you around.” If for only ten days at a time. “Look at what you’ve done with the place.” The old ranch house on his grandparents’ land hadn’t been maintained as well as it could’ve been, as Liam’s grandparents had worked to raise him and run a ranch in their golden years. Then Grandpa Bob had gotten sick and things had fallen apart. “It will be so nice when you can be with Eli and Owen more, though.”
“I know. I haven’t even touched the whole before- and after-school issue yet. It was hard enough to find day care after I won full custody from Payton. That’s why moving home worked so well. Grandma Gin saved me as much as I helped her. But I don’t want them to start kindergarten in Coal Haven. They don’t need to deal with the bullshit I did.”
The bullshit had stemmed from one man. Cameron Barron liked flexing his power and showing his illegitimate son how he wished Liam hadn’t been born—never mind that Cameron had been the one to have the affair that resulted in Liam’s birth.
Cameron wanted nothing to do with him, and he expected everyone in his circle of friends, family, and acquaintances to behave the same. Derek was the only one who’d defied Cameron.
“Well, I’ll miss all of you.” I loved being with him and the boys. To them, I wasn’t Kennedy the Widow. I was Kenny, their dad’s friend, who coerced them to eat green beans once in a while but also let them destroy the bathroom during bath time.
Liam had shamelessly used them to help bring me back into the land of People Who Got Off the Couch and Showered.
“What are you up to today?” He asked the same question every weekend he was home. Today was Saturday, and since he worried when I didn’t have my Monday-through-Friday job to motivate me, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew I was doing okay.
I hadn’t showered yet, but only because I planned to work around the house all day.
And maybe because I was packing up Derek’s clothing.
“I have some cleaning to catch up on. You raked for me last fall, but I was going to see if the lawn needed some attention before Bruce came over and did it.” I’d told Derek’s dad, Bruce, that I could take over lawn care now that all the snow had melted, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I got home from work one day to find my lawn had been neatly tended to.
Bruce Barron had been second to Liam in taking care of me. Derek’s mom, Willow, and Bruce checked on me each week and took care of any repairs, like a clogged garbage disposal. They did what needed to be done. Especially when my neglect of myself and my house had gotten too bad.
After being sick through so many of my high school years, I had thought I’d gotten stronger. Until I had found myself alone and unable to keep a one-person household going. Those days were done. They had to be. That was what this closet cleaning was about. No one was going to do it for me, so I hadn’t told anyone my plans.
“What else are you doing?” Liam asked.
I scowled. When did Liam’s bullshit meter get so sensitive? “I’m…sweeping.”
There was a knock at the door. I jumped, dropping the maroon polo I was in the middle of folding. It wouldn’t bother me to give that one away. Derek had complained the tag itched but he’d refused to cut it off, and, in turn, had never worn it.
“Can I call you back?” I didn’t want to get off the phone with Liam. I wanted him to talk to me through this whole closet-cleaning process. “Someone’s here.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Liam. I’m fine.” I scrambled off the floor, holding the phone with one hand and tugging my shirt down with the other. It used to be roomy, but my venture back into the workplace had come with an increased appetite. I’d gone from unintentional calorie restriction to tasty overload thanks to the teachers’ lounge and its constant parade of goodies.
I didn’t bother to check who was at the door. It was Coal Haven, North Dakota, population 2200. There weren’t any surprises when it came to who might be at the door. Could be the mail. Another delivery from Mom, who thought I was still too withdrawn to go to the grocery store. For the last year, I’d received deliveries of dried goods. I had more rice than I could eat in a lifetime. But it was probably Bruce. He hadn’t stopped by for the weekend yet.
I whipped the door open, my mind whirling about what to tell Bruce. I didn’t know how he’d handle it if he knew I was packing Derek’s things. He never called first, and maybe I should’ve thought of that when I’d started. Or maybe I hoped that Bruce would notice how much better I was and he’d start calling or messaging before he popped in.
The man on my doorstep was not Bruce.
Where Bruce was six feet tall, this man was a couple of inches taller, with wider shoulders and a chest hard enough to bounce a quarter off. His unrepentant grin was all Liam.
I slammed my hand onto my hip as delight almost had me jumping into his strong arms; I wasn’t normally a girl who did that. But he’d catch me. Liam wouldn’t let me fall. “I can’t believe you!”
Liam spoke into his phone but grinned at me. “Believe it.”
I mock glared at him and hung up. I shoved the phone into the pocket of my sweats. Ugh. Of all days not to shower.
I wasn’t usually self-conscious around Liam. He’d seen me at my worst. I was no longer there, but my hair was up in a messy bun, and not the trendy kind. Strands hung over my eyes and down my neck, looking as spindly as the dried flowers I hadn’t had the energy to throw out for weeks after Derek’s funeral. I was wearing an old sports bra that didn’t hide as much as it should under the snug T-shirt. And my sweats needed a trip through the washing machine, like, yesterday.
I looked exactly like I’d lied to him about taking a shower, while Liam was dressed in worn jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and an olive-green, long-sleeved, waffle-patterned shirt that his biceps managed to flex through. He definitely looked showered.
He stepped inside and took off his navy-blue Coal Haven Drillers ball cap and hung it on the welded “The Barrons” sign that he’d made for Derek and me as a wedding gift.
“Gonna tell me what you’re really doing?”
I huffed a hunk of hair out of my face. It barely moved. “How did you—? Never mind. Fine,” I stressed the word around a playful scowl.
I considered making up something, telling him I was finally working in the basement after it had needed to be gutted last year, and staying away from my bedroom, but this was Liam. He didn’t plow into my life and take over. I trusted him.
Before I lost my nerve, I
spun and went to the bedroom. He stayed on my heels through the small living room and the narrow hallway. The house was over fifty years old, built by a couple who’d moved in after decades on their farm. The style reflected it. Small rooms crammed into minimal square footage. The master bedroom was master only in that it had a few more square feet than the other one on the main level.
I entered my bedroom and stood by the bed. I went to cross my arms but ended up hugging myself. “I thought it was time.”
Liam’s chiseled jaw flexed. He ran a hand through his hat hair and ruffled it enough to give his hard edges a boyish softness. He took a moment to inhale and slowly let it out. Moments like these reminded me that he was mourning the loss of his best friend, not just helping me cope with the loss of my husband. “Are you sure?”
“A few tips I learned from my online support group were to give myself permission to keep whatever I want. I have a tote bin.” I nodded toward the blue Rubbermaid on the bed. “I also gave myself permission to quit if it was too much.”
“What else did… What is your group’s name again?”
“Sexy, Young, and Widowed.” I was young and widowed. Didn’t exactly feel the sexy part, but reading experiences from others my age was critical. “But I also talked to my therapist during our last session. Both really just say that nothing’s abnormal and I can’t do it wrong.” Which meant I had to do something, and after way too long of doing nothing, I was ready to prove myself, mostly to myself.
Liam and I stared at the pile of shirts and pants on the floor. I’d opened the folding doors, taken a huge armful, and dumped it on the floor. It was easier than undoing the meticulous job Derek had done when he’d hung one article at a time.
Make Me Whole: Oil Barrons, Book 1 Page 1