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Authors: Jillian Hart

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BOOK: Montana Homecoming
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“Just like I thought. That one’s not to be trusted.” Gram took charge of the ham, feigning disgruntlement. “I see you didn’t take my advice and return him.”

“I’ve sort of gotten attached.”

“That’s the problem with a dog. They can capture your heart pretty quick. Not mine, mind you, but some people’s.” Gram sounded tough but she couldn’t fool him. “I hope he’s not being too much trouble.”

“No, I’m the problem. I should have put in more research before I got him.” He was to blame. Brooke was right about that. Thinking of her made his chest tighten. “You know me. I’m all sorts of trouble.”

“Yes, you are, young man. Don’t know how I’ve managed to put up with you all these years.” Amusement shone beneath her gruff tone. “Don’t know quite why.”

“Maybe the free newspaper subscription helps?” He held open the door for her.

“Yep, a free morning paper. That’s the real reason I put up with you.” Amused, Gram shuffled into the kitchen, presumably to put the ham safely in the refrigerator where Oscar couldn’t get it. “How did the trial go today? I was fixing supper when Lil and the girls came home so I didn’t get a chance to head outside and talk with ’em.”

“The D.A. has a tight case. I think it’s going to get interesting, but it’s got to be hard for the families involved.” He thought of Brooke again. She’d come to town for her sister’s sake and she would be leaving when the trial was done.

Another reason not to keep his guard up.

“What a terrible thing those robbers did. I’m good friends with young Juanita’s grandmother.” Although the wall divided them, he didn’t have to see her face to measure her sadness for her friend. It knelled in her voice like a funeral bell. “Such a loss. And poor Brianna. We came close to losing her, too.”

“I know.” With the windows open to let in the pleasant May breeze, noise came in, too. The putter of a motorcycle driving by, the slam of someone’s screen door, the murmur of conversation. A woman’s shriek rolled in on the breeze, followed by a peal of laughter he would recognize anywhere.

Brooke. His heart kicked into overdrive. He pulled back the sheers trying to look out before realizing the fence blocked most of the view of Lil’s yard.

Oscar’s ears pricked. He barked loud and zealously. Chocolate-brown eyes met Liam’s, as if to ask, “Where is she? Where is she?”

Gram paraded into the living room. “I guess you may as well get on your way. Leave the leash by the door. Tell me you’ve got that monster trained.”

“If I did, I would be lying. But he’s better than he was on Sunday.” He brushed a kiss on his grandmother’s cheek, patted Oscar on the head and veered toward the door. “You be good while I’m gone, okay? I won’t be long.”

Oscar’s ears pricked, his head tilted as if he was thinking “huh?”

The minute the door closed shut behind him, a dog’s heartbroken yowl shattered the peaceful evening.

“That’s Oscar,” a familiar voice commented on the other side of the fence as a screen door slapped shut. Brooke. He could imagine her standing on Lil’s porch. “I would recognize that howl anywhere.”

“It’s worse than that emergency broadcast signal,” someone answered—Colbie, he guessed. “I’m not sure I’ve heard anything as annoying. It’s amazing.”

Amazing.
That was the word as he poked his head around the fence post where Gram’s lilacs ended and Lil’s roses began. He lost his breath at the sight of Brooke in denim shorts, a turquoise top and bare feet, her hair caught up in pigtails.

She was a seriously beautiful woman and he was seriously not going to notice.

“Liam.” Colbie spoke first, breaking into her open smile as she lowered what looked like a giant squirt gun. “Is Oscar all right? I mean, what’s up with that crying?”

“Separation anxiety, or so I’m told.” His stubborn gaze remained glued to Brooke. “Gram said she’d watch him. It’s my volunteer night and I didn’t want him to get lonely at home.”

“Or deafen your neighbors.” Colbie laughed, tapping down the steps, her old pair of sneakers squeaking. “It totally slipped my mind that you spend a lot of time at the community youth center. Do you know who else does a lot of volunteer work?”

He knew the answer before she continued. He braced for it.

“Brooke.” Colbie landed on the walkway, her free hand firmly grasped around her older half sister’s wrist, dragging her into the grass. “I think you should invite her along. I’m on this campaign to get her to move here. You could help me convince her. How about it?”

“Colbie, I’m sure that’s the last thing Liam wants to do. To be saddled with me for two evenings in a row.” Brooke rolled her eyes—cute—and stared at the ground. Perhaps a little embarrassed.

So was he. He liked Brooke, but distance remained between them. It was a good idea.

“You’re always saying how the center needs more volunteers.” Colbie gave her neon-blue plastic rifle a hitch, like she was getting ready for a military campaign. “Here’s your chance. If Brooke finds a great place to volunteer, then it will be impossible for her to leave.”

“See? This is why I miss Seattle.” Brooke swiped damp bangs from her forehead—obviously she’d taken a hit from Colbie’s rifle. “No nosy, pushy sisters there.”

“I know you miss me.” Colbie laughed, tilted her head. “Ooh, listen. The dog’s quieted down. Well, I’m going to go. I’m on the hunt for the twins. Liam, did I mention Brooke is practically a volleyball champion?”

“I’m not a champion. Honestly.” She shook her head. Unbelievable. Could her sister be any more obvious? “I’m fair to middling, that’s all. I take it the youth center has something to do with volleyball?”

“Yep, a game twice a week. You must be good if Colbie says so.” He strode toward her, interested now. “If you’re looking for a good cause, then talk your sisters into bringing you down to the center. It’s fun, you’ll be helping out a great group of kids and we need women volunteers. There are a lot of girls in need of solid role models.”

“I’m no role model.” She hoped he didn’t see her as one because that only meant he didn’t see her at all.

“That’s just your opinion.” Kind, that almost blinding smile as he came close enough for her to see the five o’clock shadow hugging his square jaw. “You said you like to make a difference. I’m just saying. Colbie and the twins know where the center is. Just think about it, okay?”

No.
That’s what she should say, but what came out? “Okay.”

“Good news for the center.” He jingled his keys, backing away. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

How did the man become more irresistible every time she saw him? Dressed in a gray T-shirt, athletic shorts and shoes, he could have walked off the pages of a sports magazine, hunky and buff with a wholesome boy-next-door glow.

She was iron. Unmovable. Unalterable. Indestructible. She was not going to soften her stance toward the guy.

“Yes, you will see her there. I’ll make sure of it!” Colbie called, but her words were cut short with a shriek as the twins leaped from behind a lilac bush and ambushed her with a water balloon.

Chapter Eight

“I
miss Seattle,” Brooke commented dryly from the backseat of Colbie’s SUV. “Quiet, peaceful, solitary Seattle.”

“Ha-ha. We’re so not fooled.” Brandi squished in next to her and gave her a shoulder bump. “Admit it. You love us.”

“I’ll admit no such thing.” She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “This is practically kidnapping.”

“True.” Unrepentant Colbie turned into a crowded parking lot. “If I didn’t have my water rifle, I’m not sure we could have convinced you to get in the car.”

“We could have always used my water balloons,” Bree pointed out, stifling laughter. “Don’t forget I have deadly aim.”

Colby swung into a parking spot, the engine died, doors popped open and McKaslin girls spilled into the pleasant evening sunshine.

“I just want to point out that this isn’t far from home. Practically a stone’s throw.” Colbie fell in beside Brooke and hooked their arms together. “Or from the twins’ place, if you decide to stay there. After all, Brianna will be getting married and Brandi will need another roommate. Just things to keep in mind.”

Brooke rolled her eyes.

“That won’t be for a while,” Bree pointed out, walking beside her twin. “Right, Brandi? Max wants a winter wedding, I want a spring wedding—”

“—but if she wants to move in with us, say now, Bree and I can bunk together—” Brandi explained.

“—and Brooke can have the second bedroom,” Bree finished.

“Ooh, I like that plan,” Colbie pronounced as she yanked open the door. Noise, echoing in on itself, met them along with the breeze of air conditioning.

“Colbie and the twins,” a rumbling voice—not Liam’s—greeted them. A tall, blond, vaguely familiar-looking man strolled in from a nearby office, a referee’s whistle hanging from his neck. “Can’t believe you’re here, especially with the trial going on.”

“We felt the need to blow off steam,” Bree spoke up.

“Plus I’m trying to talk Brooke into moving here and she likes to volunteer. What better place than here?” Colbie squeezed Brooke’s arm a little harder. “Can you help me with my plan?”

“Maybe.” The man had a friendly smile. “So you are the long-lost McKaslin girl. I’m Chad Lawson. I’m married to your cousin Rebecca. I’m also in charge here. Can’t believe they gave me that much responsibility.”

“Neither can we,” Colbie quipped, leaning in closer to add, “He’s the assistant youth pastor at our church, which is why he might look a little familiar.”

“Glad to have you.” He smiled. “The locker rooms are to your right, the rec rooms are to your left and if you’re dying to play volleyball just follow the noise.” Someone called Chad’s name and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Gotta go. Duty calls.” He jogged away, blowing his whistle, the sound reverberating in the cavernous building.

“Well, I’m heading for the locker room.” Brandi held out her hand. “Give me your stuff. I’ll lock it up.”

“Thanks.” Colbie handed over her purse and keys. Brooke held up her hands, showing she had nothing on her. She’d come ready to play.

She couldn’t say why her pulse skipped a few beats as she let Colbie tug her into the gymnasium. Six games were in progress in the huge space, where teenagers along with a few adults leaped, spiked and served, dove for saves and cheered points earned. Brooke paused on the sidelines, soaking it in.

“Brooke, Colbie! Over here.” A pleasant tenor rose above all the other sounds. Liam, with the ball tucked into the crook of his arm, waved his free hand over his head. Masculine. Athletic. Heartstopping. “I’m one player down.”

“Go on,” Colbie whispered to her. “I’m a terrible player. At least you won’t be a laughingstock. Go on, go.”

“I’m not fooled.” She knew what her sister was up to, but did it matter? Not a bit. No ploy of Colbie’s to match her up with Liam could possibly work. And why? Because she’d made up her mind. Her heart was invincible.

“Why don’t you take the spot next to me?” He looked like a natural—feet braced, hair tousled. “That way I can give you a few pointers if you need ’em. Everyone, this is Brooke. Brooke, this is everyone. Are you ready to play?”

“Might as well.” She slipped into the back row beside him, nodding in greeting to the friendly teenage faces turning to smile at her. Across the net the opposing team took their stances, fight faces on.

“It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” Liam popped the ball out of the crook of his arm, took position and punched out a perfect serve. The white orb sailed over the net in a streak. Opponents scrambled to set and spike it and another pounded it home.

“How much do you know about the game?” he asked as a front-line teen pummeled the ball back over the net.

“A little. I haven’t played since my high school days.” She kept her eye on the ball as an opponent rushed, knelt and saved it. Teammates rushed in to help.

“The skills will come back to you.” He planted his feet, light on his heels, ready in case he had to make a save. “The important thing is to have fun.”

“Right. That’s why I’m here.” The ball sailed across the net with a fierce trajectory, whizzing straight at the gym floor. He sprang, already figuring he’d have to dive for this one when a slender, lithe form slid in front of him, arms out and clasped, skidding across the polished wood. The ball hit her exposed forearms with a slap and sailed into a perfect arc. Jen from the front row leaped to beat it over the net. The ball smashed into the floor. Score!

“Way to go, Brooke!” Jen called out, joined in by the others. “Great save.”

Speechless, Liam’s jaw hung open as he watched the prim and proper Miss Brooke McKaslin swipe a flyaway tendril out of her eyes, plant the heel of her hand on the floor and shrug. “You made the point. That was awesome.”

“I won’t argue,” the teen said charmingly, obviously instantly liking Brooke.

Who wouldn’t? He held out his hand, clasped hers and ignored the jolt that bolted straight to his soul. He breathed in her light vanilla fragrance as he helped her onto her feet. “So, you know a little about the game?”

“Okay, so I was on my high school team and we took state. Twice.” Her pigtails bobbed, framing her heart-shaped face, making her endearing. No one could be cuter as she caught the ball one-handed.

“And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?” He arched one brow, easing into place at the end of the front row.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

A surprise? How about a bombshell? He shook his head, trying to get into the game as she served like a pro. The ball zipped over the net like a missile. The woman was more than a mystery.

And wasn’t that a problem?

* * *

“I hope you can come on Saturday, too.” Jen swiped sweat from her forehead as she gave the ball a toss. Chad, standing at the sidelines, caught it handily. Only one game was still going on and most kids were heading toward the locker room or the front door.

“Yeah, you rocked,” Krys agreed, dreadlocks bobbing. “You’ve got to show me how you serve like that. It was killer.”

“An instant score half the time.” Sofia joined the others. The small group of teenage girls surrounded her. “I want to learn the secret, too.”

“I’ll show you what I can.” Personally, she didn’t think her serve was all that great, but it was nice to feel she could help out. “You have a fantastic spike, Sofia. And, Krys, you were the top scorer.”

“Come on Saturday.” Jen squeezed her arm before leading the others, too.

“You’re popular.” Liam ambled up behind her, hands on his hips. Magnificent. Why couldn’t she think of another word, any word, to describe him?

Probably because no other word would do. Tousled hair, damp with sweat, his gray T-shirt untucked, muscles bunching.

Magnificent wasn’t her thing. Unmoved, she swiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. “Everyone’s being nice.”

“No, those girls like you. You made an impression on them.”

“Only because of my serve.” She wasn’t going to acknowledge his compliment. He couldn’t get past her barriers, not even with kindness. “It’s a great group of kids here. I like them, too.”

“Most of them are at risk. Some have already gotten into a lot of trouble. Jen’s on probation, and Krys is just out of juvy. This is a good place for them to spend their time, learn about God and build their self-esteem. Good game tonight, Kent.” He paused to high-five a teenage boy who dashed by. “Then again, I’m biased. I believe in this program.”

“I can see why.” Emotion lodged beneath her windpipe, realizing just how much she and those girls had in common. The wish to help them rose up within her, but she couldn’t tell Liam that.

“I saw a lot when I was traveling the world. So much suffering. I’m just one man. What’s that against all that pain?” He shrugged, scattering thick, dark locks of hair.

It was easy to see the good in him—so much good. He genuinely seemed to care for others, for doing what was right.

Don’t even think about softening your stance,
she told herself, bracing her feet, fisting her hands. “Surely you made some difference as a reporter.”

“It wasn’t enough. I’ve been in Haiti, Afghanistan, the Sudan. I’ve reported on famines, civil wars, earthquakes and genocide.”

“I hadn’t realized you’d done so much.”

“No, I didn’t do anything. I was just there as a witness.”

He stopped in front of a row of vending machines and dug into his pocket. “It felt like the problems were already too big. All I could do was tell people about it. I couldn’t try to fix it.”

“I can’t imagine how that affected you. To see all that close up and personal.”

“It put my life into perspective. That’s why I volunteer. It’s the personal level, when you give of yourself and your heart that makes a real difference. Every little bit helps.” He plugged coins into the machine. “Which soda?”

“Oh, I can get my own.” She ducked her chin, blushing slightly.

“I need to push a button. Tell me which one. Diet, right?” He waited, she nodded and the can slid down the chute.

“Do you regret giving up that kind of career?”

“No. When my Grandfather Knightly got sick, nothing else mattered. There are days I miss it, but I have a real chance to help out my grandfather. When I was growing up he made sure I had everything I needed to be the kind of man I wanted to be. That’s no small gift he gave me.” He knelt to fetch the ice-cold can. When he handed it over, her soft fingers brushed his. He gritted his teeth but he couldn’t stop the impact jolting through him, soul deep.

“I’m sure he feels the same way about you.” She popped the top, thanked him for the soda and took a dainty sip.

He added a few more coins and waited for his cola to plunk down. There he was sharing again, but was she?

No, she held back. Quiet, reserved, walls up. Her stories were her business, he respected that, but he couldn’t ignore the jolt still alive in his soul. He was attracted to her. The last woman he’d cared about had been a closed book, hiding so much of herself and he’d blithely accepted that, determined to gain her trust.

Big mistake. The betrayal still clung like a stain he couldn’t wash out. He’d fallen in love with someone who hadn’t existed. Someone who’d made him believe one thing when she was the polar opposite. He wouldn’t make that mistake again, so why was he sharing so much?

Frustrated, he popped the top and listened to the symphony of carbonated bubbles echoing inside the can. Time for him to be remote, too.

“Helping Pop run the paper keeps me busy.” He took a sip of cold soda, let it slide across his tongue and cool him on the way down. He looked around. “I’m not sure what happened to your sisters.”

“Oh, I see them.” She peered into a dark room where a movie was playing on a screen. “They’re watching a show.”

“I see Colbie ducked in there. It should be over in a minute. Thanks for coming by.” He hesitated a moment, wondering if he ought to leave her, but needing to for his own well-being. He headed to the outside door, where Chad and another pastor were talking seriously with a small circle of teenagers.

“Wait.”

Her soft call spun him around. She took a step toward him. “I never asked how Oscar liked day care.”

“They tell me he howled for the first hour and then ran nonstop playing his heart out for the rest of the day.” His shoes carried him a few steps toward her when he’d meant to head away. “Oscar was having so much fun playing in a wading pool that it took him a few minutes to notice I’d come to pick him up.”

“Then it was a hit.”

“A major one. Oscar needs a little more training. I probably do, too.”

“When do you want me to come by?”

“Tomorrow works for me.” He took another sip, keeping his gaze down, keeping it light. Brooke was good for Oscar and she needed the job.

“Great.” She smiled, looking a little awkward and a little lost. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something more but stayed silent. Uncertain.

It was better to keep distance firmly between them. He fought the urge to try to cross it, held up his soda can as a goodbye and walked away.

* * *

Liam’s story about what he’d seen traveling the world had touched her. It moved her. Thinking of the world’s suffering he’d witnessed, she wanted to know more of his story. But she hadn’t asked, afraid her steel defenses might buckle again.

BOOK: Montana Homecoming
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