Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing) Read online

  The last thing he needed were rumors starting up about him and Lucy. He didn’t want anybody deciding to put more into this than exactly what it was, a casual walk to the park with his kids.

  In reality, they were two people who disliked each other, linked only by the woman they had both loved and by the two children who rode ahead of them.

  He needed to keep reminding himself of that and not allow himself to be seduced by a lovely evening, an even lovelier woman and the quiet enjoyment of a little adult companionship, for a change.

  * * *

  A WEEK AGO, if somebody had told her she would be spending a beautiful April evening sitting at a park in Hope’s Crossing on a bench next to Brendan Caine, she would have laughed out loud at such a preposterous notion.

  Life had the strangest way of throwing curveballs at a woman when she least expected it.

  A week ago, she had been confident she had the world figured out—or at least her place in it. Now everything had changed, and she was left trying to find her way again.

  Once again, she questioned her decision to return to Hope’s Crossing. It had seemed so right at the time, coming back to this place where she had always found peace and comfort with Annabelle.

  But Annabelle was gone and nothing would be the same.

  Maybe she should have stayed in Seattle. She had a condo there she had paid cash for a few years earlier. She could have lived there basically rent free while she sent out feelers for other jobs. With her contacts in the industry, it probably wouldn’t have taken her long to find something new. Being fired from her previous job didn’t exactly look that great on her résumé but maybe her track record before the disastrous software launch would speak for itself.

  Instead of following logic and sense, she had gone with her gut, for once, and had come back to the only place that had ever felt close to home.

  Now, sitting next to Brendan Caine, she wondered again if it had been a huge mistake. He didn’t want her here, that much was obvious—at the park or in Hope’s Crossing. She hadn’t missed his discomfort, just walking through town with her.

  Too late to second-guess herself now. She was here now and just needed to make the best of things—and maybe that started with finding common ground with Brendan.

  “I had a nice chat with your sister yesterday morning at the café,” she said.

  “Did you?”

  “She looked fantastic. And she told me she’s getting married to Spence Gregory. That must have been quite a shock for you and your brothers.”

  He shrugged. “They seem happy together. Spence was always a good guy. He just lost his way for a while.”

  Apparently, there was a lot of that going around.

  “And I understand Dylan’s tying the knot, too, with Genevieve Beaumont,” she said. “Shock number two.”

  “Yeah. That one’s a little harder to take in, but somehow they work together.”

  “How is her family taking it?”

  “You mean their little princess hooking up with a disfigured war veteran?” he asked, his voice cold.

  “Your words. Not mine,” she answered in the same tone.

  He studied her for a moment and some of the protective harshness seemed to ease in his handsome features. “Sorry. It’s a touchy subject. The mayor and Mrs. Beaumont weren’t very thrilled at first, especially since Dylan was unemployed for a while there. And of course, they didn’t hesitate to let their objections be known far and wide throughout the land.”

  “I remember the Beaumonts. That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Gen stood up to them, which was a surprise. The way I hear it, she told them if they put her in a position to make her choose between her family or Dylan, she would choose him, every time.”

  Lucy decided she was liking Genevieve Beaumont more and more. “How romantic.”

  “Or something,” he murmured.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “It’s easy to make grand sweeping statements like that. Not so easy to live with the consequences of them.”

  “But Genevieve must have stuck by her guns. They’re getting married, right?”

  “Dylan had a long, tough talk with Gen’s parents. When he’s not being all gruff and cranky, he can be quite a charmer, apparently. I think he must get it from Pop.”

  “Too bad that trait wasn’t handed down universally to all the Caine brothers.”

  He snorted, a small, amused smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “Isn’t it, though?”

  She felt inordinately pleased that she had brought a smile to his face, even such a tiny one.

  “He’s also started a partnership with a fairly new contractor in town, Sam Delgado. From what I understand, they have more business than they know what to do with right now. And he’s still a regular volunteer at A Warrior’s Hope, the recreational therapy program Spence and Charlotte started for wounded veterans. A war hero, a volunteer, a thriving businessman. How could Laura and William possibly object to such a paragon for a son-in-law?”

  “Not to mention he’s the man their daughter loves.”

  “There is that.”

  He started to say something else but Carter called out from the swings in an imperious tone.

  “Daddy! Push me.”

  Brendan sighed. “How did my children both get to be such bossy little things?”

  She rose from the bench. “I’ve got this. Relax.”

  “No. It’s fine.”

  “I’d like to. Would it kill you to let me help with the kids for five seconds?”

  So much for any amicable accords. He was back to glowering at her—but at least he sat back down on the bench and made a gesture for her to go ahead.

  She moved behind Carter and gave him a hard, swift push that had him giggling in delight.

  “Higher!” the little daredevil exclaimed. This one was going to give his father all kinds of trouble during his reckless teenage years, she expected.

  “Sure thing. Except I’m going to blame you if my arms fall off.”

  He giggled harder and swung his legs to help gain momentum.

  “Faith says you’re staying for a month. Is that true?”

  “That’s the plan, kiddo.”

  “Yay! Then you can come to my birthday party. It’s next month. I’m going to be six.”

  “Do you know,” she said, “I believe I heard a rumor somewhere that most five-year-old boys turn six on their next birthdays.”

  He giggled. “Will you come?”

  “I’ll have to see.”

  She didn’t add that a lot could happen between now and next month. Given the tangled history between her and Brendan, she wasn’t entirely sure she would be welcome at his son’s birthday party in a month.

  * * *

  TWO EVENINGS LATER, Lucy juggled an umbrella in one hand, a bag from her favorite toy store in Seattle in the other and a box in both arms as she pressed Brendan’s doorbell with her elbow.

  She had always loved his house. It was comfortable and homey, built of a warm, rust-colored brick in the Craftsman style, with a wide front porch and two dormer windows. Situated on a higher plot in town, it had lovely views down the hill into downtown Hope’s Crossing.

  Jess’s favorite rocking chair had a few old cobwebs underneath it, as if nobody used it much anymore.

  She didn’t have time to feel more than a sharp, familiar pang of loss over that before the door jerked open. Brendan stood on the other side, a cordless house phone cradled in the crook of his shoulder and neck and his fingers texting on a cell phone in his hand.

  He appeared astonished to see her for all of two seconds before his features shifted into an expression of sheer gratitude. He grabbed the box out of her arms with one hand and practically yanked her inside with the
other.

  “I understand,” he said into the phone in a clear tone of dismissal. “If you can’t do it, you can’t do it. Thanks, anyway. Talk to you soon.”

  He hung up and set the cordless receiver down on a cluttered table in the entryway at the same time he shoved the cell phone back in his pocket. “Lucy Drake, you are an answer to prayer.”

  She couldn’t recall anyone ever saying that to her, especially not Brendan Caine. “I am?”

  “Yes! Please tell me you’re free for the next couple of hours.”

  She mentally perused her evening schedule and came up empty. As usual. “I should be free,” she said, rather warily.

  “Any chance you might be willing to stay with the kids for me? I’m supposed to be off tonight but I just got a call that three of our four full-time paramedics and four more of the volunteers are out with stomach trouble, probably food poisoning from some bad Chinese food they had for lunch, and we’ve had a string of accidents from the rain. I’m got to go in and cover until the overnight shift comes in. I know it’s a lot to ask but the kids have already had their baths and are almost ready for bed.”

  She was stunned at the unexpected request but thrilled at the same time that he would even consider turning to her, a woman he so obviously disliked. “Of course. I’m happy to stay with them.”

  “None of my usual backup caregivers are available,” he said, looking frazzled. “If you hadn’t showed up, I was going to have to drag them in with me, pajamas and all, as a last resort. Thank you. I owe you.”

  “Not at all. I’ll be delighted to spend a little time with them. You know I will.”

  “I’ll try to get off as early as I can. Midnight would be the latest.”

  “No problem. I can get them to sleep.”

  “Thanks. I’ve got to run. Um, make yourself comfortable. Whatever you need. My cell number is on the fridge if you need me.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks. Seriously. I owe you.”

  “You don’t. I owe you for giving me the chance to spend time with them.”

  “Give me a second. I just have to change. The kids should be changing into pajamas. I imagine they’ll be in any moment.”

  She waved him off and stood for a moment in the entryway of his house, left a little off-kilter by the unexpected turn of events.

  This was good, though. She couldn’t imagine anything she would rather do than spend the evening with her two favorite children.

  She set the hefty box on the bottom step and put the toy store bag on top of it. She was shrugging out of her raincoat when Carter and Faith came barreling down the hall, their hair wet. Carter was wearing LEGO Star Wars pajamas, and Faith had on a nightgown sporting Strawberry Shortcake. They looked startled to see her but rushed over with ready hugs.

  “What are you doing here?” Faith asked.

  “Well, my plan was to drop a few things off for you, but your dad just asked me to stay with you for a couple of hours while he runs into work.”

  “Yay!” Faith exclaimed just as Brendan emerged from down the hall wearing navy cargo pants and a white polo shirt with the logo of the Hope’s Crossing Fire Department on the chest. He looked big and tough and dangerous.

  Oh, and delicious. She couldn’t deny that.

  “Good news, kids,” he said, grabbing a set of keys off a table in the entryway. “You get to stay in your own beds instead of sleeping at Grandpa’s place or at Aunt Charlotte’s. Your aunt Lucy has kindly agreed to keep an eye on you this evening until I can make it back.”

  Carter raced to her and gave her a complicated high-five. Somehow she managed to keep up. “Can we stay up until ten?” he asked.

  “Eight-thirty,” she countered. She figured that was appropriate when Brendan didn’t protest the negotiation.

  “Yay! That’s half an hour later than usual,” Carter exclaimed.

  “Just this once,” Brendan said. He scooped up his son and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Be good for Aunt Lucy.”

  “I’m always good,” Carter insisted.

  Faith rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. Brendan set the boy down and folded his daughter into a hug. “You, too. No staying up all night reading, got it?”

  “Got it.” She hugged him hard. “Good night, Dad. Be careful, okay?”

  His mouth tightened a little, but Lucy watched him twist it into a smile that looked forced. “Will do, kiddo.”

  He straightened. “Thank you again,” he said to Lucy. “Seriously. You saved the day.”

  “Right time, right place. I’m glad I could help.”

  He studied her for just a moment, and she wondered what he saw when he looked at her. She was no doubt bedraggled from the rainy walk to his house. She should have just driven, but it had seemed ridiculous when he lived less than a block away.

  It didn’t matter what she looked like, she reminded herself. Brendan didn’t care. He had made that quite plain when he had kissed her senseless one moment and then fallen in love with her best friend the next.

  “All right, my darlings,” she said after he left. “Who wants to see what I’ve brought you?”

  “Me! Me!” Carter exclaimed.

  Faith chewed on her bottom lip. “Did Dad say it was okay?”

  Brendan had known she had gifts for the kids. He had seen her carrying them in, and he hadn’t not said it was okay.

  She was going to take that as approval—though it annoyed her that he had apparently expressed enough displeasure about her gift-giving habits that perceptive little Faith picked up on it.

  “It’s fine,” she answered.

  “Okay,” Faith decided. “Then I would like to see, too.”

  She tried not to overspend on the children, though she had to check herself at times. She had been paid an exorbitant salary at NexGen, far exceeding her needs and her investments, and had few people to spend it on—a number that had dwindled in the past two years with Jessie’s and Annabelle’s deaths.

  Her father, her stepmother, her half sister, Crystal, and the children. That was about the size of it.

  She wanted to spoil Carter and Faith with trinkets and treasures but knew the things she gave them paled in comparison to actually making the effort to have contact with them through email, Skype and phone calls.

  To that end, these gifts were small, but Carter adored the clever magnetic shapes that could be put together to form all kinds of structures, and Faith gave an adorable gasp of delight at the little elastic band bracelet loom and the supply of bands that came along with it.

  “Oh! I’ve been wanting one of these to make bracelets for my friends,” she exclaimed.

  “Great. We can figure it out together. The woman at the toy store showed me how, and it looks simple enough.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Faith said.

  “I am, too, sweetheart,” she answered—and to her surprise, it wasn’t completely a lie, at least not when she was with the children.

  She pulled out the heavy box she had carried down from Iris House. “The real treasure is in here, though.”

  “What is it?” Carter asked. “Can I open it?”

  “You both can.”

  The children knelt on either side of the box and worked together to pull back the cardboard flaps.

  “Books.”

  They both said the word at the same time, Carter with disgust and Faith in a reverent tone.

  “Yes. Books. I found them up at Iris House. These were all your mom and my favorites when we were children—The BFG, Charlotte’s Web, Nancy Drew, Jack London, The Hobbit.”

  “Hey, I saw that movie,” Carter exclaimed.

  “You need to read the book now.”

  “Only I can’t read chapter books,” he answered in a duh sort
of tone.

  “It’s only a matter of time, kid. You’ll be reading chapter books before you know it and then you’ll want to read some of these books, I promise.”

  She pulled a boxed collection from the bottom of the box and held it out to Faith, who looked dazed with delight at the literary bounty. “And look at this. My very favorite. Anne of Green Gables. One summer when I came to stay with Annabelle for a few weeks, your mom and I made a pact to read the whole series by the time school started again. I think I was thirteen.”

  She actually knew she had been thirteen. It was the summer her father had left them, she remembered, when she had been lost and frightened, emotionally traumatized by a lifetime of being caught in the crosshairs on the battlefield of a horrible marriage.

  When her mother—seeking attention, as always—made a halfhearted suicide attempt and was subsequently committed to the psychiatric treatment unit at the local hospital, Robert Drake had once more shrugged off responsibility for her.

  How could he possibly be expected to take in a frightened girl? He had just moved in with his twenty-one-year-old girlfriend, and Pam wasn’t at all prepared to handle that kind of responsibility. Besides, they just didn’t have room. She would have so much more fun staying at Annabelle’s, where her favorite cousin, Jessica, was living with her recently widowed mother.

  For Robert, it had been the perfect solution. For Lucy, it was just another betrayal, made bearable only by Annabelle and Jessica and the magical escape she found that summer in books.

  When her mother was released, she moved back to Denver with Betsy but she’d never forgotten those treasured hours reading on the shaded porch swing on hot July afternoons or under the big maple tree out back.

  “You’ve read them, right?” she asked Faith now.

  The girl shook her head. “Not yet. I’ve been wanting to but I never started.”

  She was not quite eight, much younger than Lucy had been when she’d read them. Maybe she wouldn’t enjoy them as much.

  Despite her worry, Faith looked delighted and picked the first book out of the collection and opened it up right there in the living room.