скачать книгу бесплатно
He removed his jacket and held it toward the boy. “Here, it’s waterproof and will help you stay warm until you can get home and put on dry clothes.”
Dylan looked as though he would refuse the offering, but then his jaw tensed and he appeared to decide that the jacket would be a welcome addition on the long hike. He took it. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Brodie said, already feeling the difference in the chill from removing the jacket and glad that the kid accepted it. The teenager would be lucky if he didn’t get pneumonia from this escapade. Which made Brodie wonder why Dylan had been this far away from home. “Where were you hiking to anyway?” he asked.
Dylan slung the long hair away from his face. “Jasper Falls. I think I’m close, but the rain got too hard, and I couldn’t tell where I was anymore.” He spoke with confidence, even when admitting he’d gotten lost.
Jasper Falls, where Willow died. And from what Savvy had said, Dylan had been with her and had gone for help. “Why were you going there?”
“Because that’s where she was alive.” Dylan’s words were mumbled this time, and he sounded every bit the little boy missing his mother and nowhere near man status. He looked away from Brodie as he spoke, his throat pulsing thickly from emotion. But Brodie heard.
Drawn to the teenager, he wanted to comfort him somehow, but Dylan was still pressed against the rock, his blue eyes darting from one patch of woods to another as though contemplating his getaway path.
God, let him trust me. And let me help him deal with the pain. Give me the right words.
Brodie cleared his throat. “I told Savvy that I’d try to find you. She’s worried about you. I’m sure she’s expecting me to bring you home. Do you think you can trust me to do that?”
“Why should I?” Dylan glared at him, and Brodie suspected he wasn’t the first adult on the receiving end of that defiance. The kid looked as though he’d be right at home getting into trouble at school. Actually, he reminded Brodie of himself in that way. He had always itched for a confrontation with his teachers, his parents, pretty much anyone.
Dylan looked back to Brodie, and the wall that had surrounded him a moment ago slipped a bit. “Aunt Savvy is worried?”
Aunt Savvy. Brodie was touched that she had such a position in Willow’s children’s lives that they considered her an aunt. If he hadn’t messed things up with Willow, he might have been Uncle Brodie. “Yeah.”
Then Dylan’s eyes widened, his attention captured by the embroidered emblem on Brodie’s chest. “You’re a coach? At the college?”
Finally, something that would break the ice with this kid. Same thing that had captured Kaden’s interest earlier. “Yeah. The baseball coach. It’s my first season there, but we’re having a pretty good year. You play?”
Dylan shook his head. “I wanted to go out for the school team this year, but—” he shrugged “—I didn’t.”
Brodie waited to see if he’d say more, and his patience paid off.
“They cut a lot of kids,” Dylan said.
Brodie understood the fear of not making the team. At thirteen, Dylan would try out for junior high, the first stage of athletics where the “everyone gets a trophy” approach flew out the window. He remembered it well. “Practice and determination, that’s what’ll get you on the team.”
“Who would I practice with?” he asked, then flinched as though he wanted to take the words back. Probably hadn’t planned on sharing that insight with a stranger.
“How about me?” Brodie wanted to help the boy deal with his loss, and if there was anything he knew, well, it was baseball. Plus, Willow’s letter had insinuated that Brodie could help her son with tutoring. Maybe baseball would open that door, too. Something the boy wanted to do combined with something he needed to do.
“Why would you do that?” Dylan asked, clearly not used to adults offering to help him out.
Because I owe your mom. Because you remind me of myself. Because I need to right old wrongs to prove I deserve a spot in my daughter’s life. “Because I love baseball,” he replied.
“That’d be—” Dylan’s jaw clenched as he apparently fought off a smile “—cool.” Then his stomach growled loud enough to be heard over the wind. “I’m getting hungry.” He held his hand out from the ledge. “The rain’s slacking. Probably should go back.”
So a promise of baseball practice and a hungry stomach caused him to think straight. Worked for Brodie. “Let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, they exited the woods near the trailer with Brodie impressed at the boy’s sense of direction. He’d led the way back and hadn’t panicked when the rain picked up a couple of times or when he’d slipped on wet patches of leaves and pine straw. In fact, Dylan seemed very agile and easily adapted to his surroundings. Brodie suspected he’d probably be a decent baseball player.
He held the flashlight and shot the beam ahead of them as they moved toward the trailer, where every floodlight gleamed and apparently every light inside also illuminated in anticipation of their arrival. They were still ten feet away when the door to the trailer opened and Savvy came out. Her relieved gasp reverberated as she darted into the rain. She threw her arms around Dylan in a tight bear hug that caused the boy to wince.
“Hey, Aunt Savvy, that’s good,” he said. “I’m okay.”
“Thank God,” she whispered, heavy tears falling freely.
The twins timidly stepped through the open doorway, but remained under the pitiful metal awning to stay out of the rain. They were identical, with fine blond hair surrounding cherubic faces, matching pink nightgowns and bare feet. “Dylan? You okay?” one asked.
He pushed away from Savvy and turned toward the girls. “I’m okay, Rose.” Then he looked back at Savvy. “Sorry I was gone so long. Got caught in the rain.”
She blinked, opened her mouth as though she wasn’t certain how to answer, then responded, “That’s okay, I guess.”
He turned to Brodie and said, “You meant it about the baseball?”
“I did.”
Dylan nodded, and this time released that hint of a grin. “Okay, then.” He jogged up the steps to the door and took the girls inside.
Savvy waited for the door to snap closed and then turned to Brodie. “What about baseball?” Her brow knitted, and she didn’t make any effort to move toward the trailer, in spite of the fact that the rain still fell, and her T-shirt and jeans grew wetter by the minute.
“Don’t you want to go inside and talk?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head, the ends of her hair converting from pale blond to caramel in the rain and then curling beneath her chin.
For some bizarre reason, Brodie wanted to touch the dampened hair, push it away from her face and see those dark eyes, try to find the pupils hidden within the irises.
“What did Dylan mean about baseball?” she asked, snapping him out of his reverie.
The rain picked up steam again, and he motioned toward the wooden deck that bordered the right half of the trailer. “I’ll tell you, but let’s at least get under the awning, if you won’t let me come inside. You’re getting drenched.”
She glanced down, apparently realizing that her clothes were, in fact, soaked. “Okay, fine,” she said. “But then you have to go.” She started up the steps, then held up a palm. “Wait here.” Then she went inside and left Brodie under the flat awning, which he now realized had a large hole in one side, where the rainwater streamed through.
She returned a moment later wearing a large camouflage jacket, probably Dylan’s, over her shirt. When she opened the door, he heard the kids talking, and he tilted his head toward the sound. She pushed the door closed.
“Okay, tell me. What about baseball?”
“He wants to get better at baseball, and I offered to help.”
A clap of thunder caused her to jump, and a yelp escaped that didn’t go unnoticed by the kids, because the door opened and Dylan stuck his head out.
“Aunt Savvy, you okay?”
“Yes, Dylan, I’m fine,” she said, but her voice quivered. “I made pancakes. There are some in the microwave for you.”
Dylan’s brow furrowed at Brodie, but then he looked to Savvy, who managed a smile in spite of the fact that Brodie knew she was terrified of this storm. In any case, the kid seemed appeased. “Okay. I’m going to eat. But let me know if you need me.” He started inside, but then stopped and slid off Brodie’s baseball jacket. “Thanks for letting me wear this.”
“You’re welcome.” He took the coat and once again, found himself impressed. Barely a teenager, the boy was still ready to protect the women of his house.
When the door closed and the volume on the television promptly increased, Savvy gave him a pointed look. “I said you could see if he wanted you to tutor him, not teach him baseball. And I only mentioned that because that’s what you said Willow wanted in that letter. If it isn’t what Dylan wants, though, the deal is off.”
“Willow wanted me to help him.”
“So you say.”
Brodie should’ve known she wouldn’t take his word. He withdrew the letter and handed it over.
Savvy looked at the envelope, her lower lip rolling in as she ran a finger across the handwritten address on the outside. With shaky hands, she turned it over and withdrew the letter.
Brodie watched her eyes move across the page as she read each line. At the end, she closed her eyes, released a quivering breath and handed the letter back.
“Believe me now?” he asked.
She nodded. “But she only asked about tutoring. The baseball—”
“Will give me a way to break the ice by doing something he wants to do.”
She mulled that over. “Okay. We’ll try it. But if his grades don’t get better, then no baseball or tutoring.”
“He needs help. Willow said so, and you know it’s true. Even more now that he’s lost his mom.”
“I know he does,” she whispered, leaning her head toward the door to presumably make sure the kids were still listening to the television. “I’m just not so sure that help needs to come from you.” Before he had a chance to argue, she added, “But I see that it’s what Willow wanted, and I won’t deny her request.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I do want to make things right. And whether you believe me or not, Savvy, I was going to tell her I was sorry and ask her to forgive me. Today. As soon as I saw her.”
Savvy shook her head incredulously. “After all these years? You wanted to ask her forgiveness now?” She wrapped her arms around herself in an apparent effort to remain calm. “You never called to check on her. You never returned her calls, or mine, for that matter. You ignored emails. Dropped out of our lives altogether, as though we’d done something wrong. But you were the one...” Her voice quaked. “You ripped Willow’s world apart. And mine.” The last two words were spoken so softly that Brodie barely heard. But he did.
“I didn’t call you because I knew she’d told you what I did, and I knew you wouldn’t forgive me.”
“You never really knew Willow, or you’d have known she tried to protect you. She didn’t want me to think badly of you. She didn’t tell me.”
“She— What?” Floored, Brodie tried to comprehend Savvy’s words. He’d thought that Savvy would have been the first person Willow called after he left her in Knoxville. “Willow never told you?”
“Not for several years. When she and the kids would come visit at the beach, we’d always end up talking about you, about our friendship and about what we thought might have gone wrong. Why you stopped caring about the two of us.”
Brodie flinched, the truth of her statement packing a powerful punch.
She shrugged. “Finally, she couldn’t keep it from me anymore. She told me about the one-night stand, and the way you left her in the hotel in Knoxville. She’d thought your friendship had turned into love. Did you know that?”
She yanked the jacket tighter around her petite frame. “Did you ever think about what that night might have meant to someone like Willow? Someone who actually dreamed of the happily-ever-after that she’d never had in her own home? And that’s what she thought she’d found—with you—until she woke up, and you were gone.”
Brodie swallowed hard. “I messed up.”
“Yeah, Brodie, you did. She ended up feeling like all of the other girls you left behind. And you did what you always did. You went on your merry way and never looked back. Not at Willow,” she said, her words sharp and heated now, “or at me.”
“Savvy, I can explain about what happened back then and why I left the way I did.” He wanted to explain. Needed to explain.
The door cracked open, and Daisy peeked out. “Aunt Savvy, can we have dessert?”
She took a deep breath, exhaled thickly and then found a smile for the little girl. “Yes, there are some brownies on the counter.”
Daisy’s mouth slid to the side as she stared at Brodie, but she didn’t ask why he was still there, wet and tired, standing in the rain. And wishing he could redo one day of his life. The night he’d crossed the boundaries of friendship with Willow...and the morning he’d abandoned her in that hotel room.
After the door closed, Savvy said, “I don’t want to hear your explanation. No explanation would be sufficient for what you did. It’s too late.” She was so visibly mad that it wouldn’t surprise Brodie if the rain came off her like steam. “You can help Dylan, because for some bizarre reason, that was one of Willow’s last wishes.” She shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe that the last letter she ever wrote...was to you.”
Brodie started to clarify, to tell Savvy that the letter in his jacket probably wasn’t the last one Willow ever wrote, because this one had been penned almost a month ago. Obviously, since he’d just shown up today, Savvy assumed he’d received the letter very recently. If he told her the truth, she’d want to know why he hadn’t come earlier. And, like his leaving Willow in that hotel room after a one-night stand, his explanation would fall short.
So he remained silent.
“I can come tomorrow, after Dylan gets out of school, if that’ll work. I’ll take him to the field and we’ll hit a few. Then I’ll talk to him about school.”
A giant flash of lightning illuminated the sky and subsequently showcased the distress on her face at having to accept Brodie’s offer. She jumped when the thunder that followed shook the trailer.
Brodie took a step toward her.
Savvy took a step back.
“I don’t need you,” she said fiercely.
He nodded. “I get that. But you used to.”
Her eyes grew even darker. Did she also remember the many nights in high school when bad weather hit Claremont and she’d called Brodie? He’d either talk to her until the storm passed, or on a couple of occasions, he’d driven to her grandparents’ home, met her on the front porch and held her while she cried.
“I don’t need you,” she repeated. “You left back then, and I haven’t needed you since.”
“You left first,” he reminded her.
Savvy’s chin quivered, and she shook her head so subtly that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. But Brodie did. She had left Claremont several months before he’d taken off for college. And she’d never looked back. Barely called Brodie and Willow for nearly three years, and neither of them knew why she’d headed south to Florida. He still didn’t know. And she obviously wasn’t telling.
“You can start working with Dylan tomorrow,” she said, turning her back to him to enter the trailer. “But as soon as he passes those tests and gets approved to move on to ninth grade, you’ll be done. And you’ll stay away.” Not bothering to wait for his response, she entered the trailer, closed the door and left Brodie standing in the rain.
Chapter Four (#ulink_786ca2a5-97ac-58e3-97de-5d4e73d55625)
Savvy sat on the top step of Willow’s wooden deck and reread the letter from the elementary school principal. She’d left the sporting-goods store at two to make certain to be here when the kids got home. It’d taken less than fifteen minutes, so she had time to get the mail.
And read this letter that stated the elementary school believed Rose and Daisy should be retained, too.
She was glad for the extra time, because she didn’t want the kids around to hear her make this call. Pulling her cell from her pocket, she dialed the number on the letterhead. The bus wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Surely this conversation wouldn’t take that long.
“Claremont Elementary, how can I help you?”
After asking to be transferred to the head administrator, Savvy waited two hard heartbeats and then heard, “This is Principal Randolph.”
She cleared her throat. “Hi, this is Savannah Bowers. I currently have guardianship of Willow—I mean Wendy—Jackson’s children, and I received a letter from you today about Rose and Daisy.”
Silence echoed from the other end, and then the woman said curtly, “And?”
Savvy hadn’t expected the abrupt change of tone. Obviously, this lady didn’t care for her, but Savvy didn’t remember a soul in Claremont with the last name of Randolph.
She gathered her courage. “And,” she continued, “the letter says that you’re recommending Rose and Daisy be retained for a year, held back in first grade while their friends move on to second in the fall.”
