More Than Words Can Say (21 page)

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Authors: Robert Barclay

BOOK: More Than Words Can Say
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Chelsea watched in fear as Pug formed his right hand into a tight fist.
Please, Brandon,
she thought.
Please tell me that you see it, too . . .

“Besides, I only want to give you what you got comin’,” Pug said. “And I’ve got it right here, special delivery . . .”

Suddenly, Pug’s right fist lashed out at Brandon’s face. As it did, Brandon quickly slid forward, directly into the arc of the oncoming blow. He immediately slung one arm under Pug’s striking arm and then twisted it upward, wrenching Pug’s shoulder to its limits. As Pug cried out in pain, Brandon closed his thumb tightly against the palm of his free hand, then slammed the exposed fist knuckle of his index finger directly into Pug’s larynx. Gasping in agony, Pug crashed backward against the nearest wall like a broken doll and then fell straight to the floor.

Transfixed, Chelsea watched Pug desperately gasp for air. His face had gone scarlet again, this time from lack of oxygen. Drool dripped from his mouth and his blank, dazed eyes gazed out at nothing. Brandon went to him. He quickly checked Pug’s pulse and looked into his eyes.

“You’ll live,” he said. “Just relax and breathe, you dumb bastard. If I’d wanted you dead, you would be.”

Still awestruck by what Brandon had done, Chelsea watched as Pug tried to marshal his breathing. After a few seconds more he partially recovered but was still unable to stand upright. Reaching out, Brandon grabbed the lapels of Pug’s dirty work jacket, then he hauled him to his feet and pulled him close, so close he could smell Pug’s fetid breath.

“Now, you listen to me,” he ordered. “If you harm Claire or that baby in any way, or if you ever harass Chelsea again, I’ll come back here. And trust me, that’s not something you want. Are we clear?”

Still gasping, Pug nodded stupidly.

“Good,” Brandon said.

At last, Brandon let him go. Totally defeated, Pug again crashed down onto the cheap linoleum floor and lay there. Then Brandon looked over at Claire. Shocked by what had just happened, she was trembling noticeably.

“Use Pug’s truck and take Rachel to the Serendipity hospital,” Brandon ordered her. There was no sense of compromise in his voice. “And do it right now,” he added, “while you still can. I’ll call and tell them that I want her held for observation. I’ll order some antibiotics for her, then I’ll look in on her tomorrow and give you a call. Do you understand?”

Claire nodded nervously.

“Good,” Brandon said. Then he turned and looked at Chelsea. “We’re leaving,” he told her.

After picking up his bag, he took Chelsea by one hand and briskly started leading her from the trailer. On reaching the door, he paused and looked back into Claire’s weepy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” he said quietly. “He left me no choice.”

“I know,” she answered.

Aside from the roar of the floatplane’s engine, Brandon and Chelsea’s flight back to Lake Evergreen was a quiet one.

Chapter 19

B
randon angrily swallowed another belt of bourbon. This was his third stiff drink in an hour, and Chelsea was beginning to worry for him. He had said absolutely nothing during the flight home and little else since angrily making a fire in Chelsea’s fireplace. Now he stood before the mantel staring silently into the flames. Deciding to remain quiet, Chelsea waited on the couch.

Outside, darkness had fallen. It was a quiet evening, save for the crackling fire and the rhythmic ticking of Brooke’s old mantel clock. Given the sense of tension pervading the living room, even those gentle sounds seemed deafening.

His expression now showing nothing but sadness, at last Brandon turned and joined Chelsea on the couch.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there,” he said. “I didn’t want to do it, but he left me no choice. And I especially apologize for insisting that you come along. It was stupid of me, it seems.”

“Well,” she said, “you didn’t know about my run-in with Pug until we were already there. That’s my fault. And for what it’s worth, I thought you were amazing. I’d forgotten about you being an ex-ranger.”

Brandon shook his head. “I still am a ranger,” he said. “You’re never an ex-ranger.”

“Okay,” Chelsea said. “But you only did what you had to.”

Chelsea took a sip of her red wine. Only a short time before the altercation, Brandon had sworn to protect her, and he had. With each passing hour, Chelsea was realizing with ever-greater certainty that Brandon was a rarity among men in this day and age. He was someone who always kept his word, and he seemed to live by a personal code of honor that appeared unshakable.

Even so, she remained concerned about his supposedly troubled past. Jenny had mentioned it that day at the diner. And in her own way, Claire had also alluded to it only hours ago. Despite what she knew about Brandon, Chelsea still didn’t fully understand him, and she very much wanted to. She didn’t want to pry and perhaps push him away. But clearly, there was something important he hadn’t told her, something about which others were aware but that he wasn’t willing to discuss with her. In order to truly know him, she had to discover what it was. But she also knew that getting him to talk about it would be difficult.

Despite all that, there was one thing about which Chelsea was certain. Somewhere deep inside Brandon, there existed a dichotomy. When it came to emoting for others, he never failed. But when called upon to express his own feelings, something oftentimes prevented him from doing so. He kept his emotions close and his past even closer. Chelsea knew something else, too. In order to draw him out, she would first have to admit something to him, something that had been growing inside her for some time.

Although Chelsea had thought long and hard about broaching the subject, even now she remained unsure. Given what had happened today, this was either the most opportune time to tell him what was in her heart or the worst. Hoping for the best, she decided to take the leap. It would be an important step for the two of them, she knew, if only he would open up to her, as well. After taking another sip of wine, she sidled a bit closer and looked into his eyes.

“There’s something I need to say,” she said. “And I hope that you can accept it in the same spirit in which it’s given.”

“All right,” he replied.

“I’ve come to care about you, Brandon,” Chelsea admitted. “Perhaps more than I should, given the brief time that I’ve known you. I willingly concede that. But if we’re going to continue seeing each other this way, I need to know what’s troubling you. There’s something wrong, I can sense it. You’ve been badly hurt, and I think that Pug Jennings is somehow a part of it.”

Pausing for a moment, she carefully considered her next words.

“You see,” she said, “every time I trust you with the contents of Brooke’s private journal, I’m also trusting you with the contents of my heart. One of the greatest needs a woman has is to be able to trust, and I’m no different. As much as it pains me to say it, unless you can be forthright with me, I’m not sure that I can go on like this.”

As she watched Brandon’s face, she realized that her words had affected him greatly. She now saw a sort of wistfulness there, a kind of acquiescence indicating that he might at last open his heart to her.

“You’re right,” he said. “I should explain it to you, but it’s so hard for me . . . You see, I’ve never actually
told
the story to anyone before. That might seem hard to believe, but because Serendipity is such a small town, I’ve never had to. In places so tiny and provincial, bad news travels fast, and it reaches into every corner.”

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I think I understand you well enough to know that whatever happened, you did nothing wrong.”

Brandon nodded. “Thank you for that,” he said. “I just wish that I could believe it, too.” While gathering his thoughts, he took a deep breath.

“Simply put,” he said, “Pug holds me responsible for the death of his sister Mallory.”

Although Chelsea was surprised, she tried not to show it. “Please go on,” she said.

While anxiously rolling his glass between his palms, Brandon paused for several moments.

“Mallory was wonderful,” Brandon said. “Blond, effervescent, highly intelligent . . . Everyone loved her, and she was the apple of Pug’s eye. For his part, he was a far different person then. He held a steady job working for his father, and his marriage to Claire was good. He had always been something of a drinker, but rarely to excess. And believe it or not, we were once friends. But then Mallory died, and everything changed for him. When he began drinking harder to dull the pain of losing her, the alcohol fueled not only his growing sense of injustice but also his need to blame someone. In the end he chose me, and maybe he was right.”

As if trying to summon more strength, Brandon closed his eyes for several moments. Realizing that he was struggling, Chelsea remained quiet. When at last Brandon looked at her again, he shook his head.

“Mallory was only thirty when she passed,” he said. “Although she had a degree in advertising, she chose to work for her father, like Pug. They owned a very successful logging company. Mallory ran the office. She knew that she was never going to get rich at it, but she was happy, and that was what mattered most to her.”

Brandon took a deep breath. “She died from a hunting accident,” he said. “A lot of women up here love to hunt, and she was no exception. One fall day, she and Pug were out pheasant hunting. As it happened, Pug was walking behind her. Just then their dog suddenly flushed a bird, and Pug released the safety lever on his gun. But then he tripped and fell, and the gun went off. The bird shot struck Mallory in the back of her right shoulder, literally blowing her off her feet. Pug did the right thing by trying to stem the bleeding and rushing her to the hospital, but they were pretty far away.

“She was badly wounded,” he added, “and by the time Pug got her to the hospital, she had lost an irretrievable amount of blood. She finished bleeding out on my table, right before my eyes. I did everything I knew to try and save her, but she died before the surgeon could get prepped. I begged him to start working on her anyway, told him that the risk of her dying right there and then far outweighed that of any infection. But he wrongly assumed that she could hang on. In the end, there was nothing that either of us could do.”

It was a heart-wrenching tale, Chelsea realized. And given that Mallory had died while technically in Brandon’s care, Chelsea now understood why Pug blamed him, wrong as he was to do so. But over the course of Brandon’s career, there surely must have been others whom he had lost. It happened to every doctor, especially those who worked in trauma departments. So why, then, was this woman so special? Suspecting that there was more to learn, she reached out and gently touched his hand again.

“But that’s not all, is it?” she asked him. “Please, Brandon, I need to know.”

This time when he looked into Chelsea’s eyes, she saw nothing there but pain.

“Mallory was my fiancée,” he said, his voice a near whisper. “I loved her more than life. I would have gladly died in her place that day, if I could have.”

Oh, my God . . . ,
Chelsea thought.
It’s no wonder he still grieves . . .

“We knew each other in high school,” he said. “Some time after my army service and my medical training we reconnected, and sparks flew. From that point on, our relationship was a whirlwind. One year later, we were engaged. Eight months after that, she was dead.”

Brandon abruptly stood and faced the fire again.

“You can’t imagine my horror at seeing her on one of my own ER tables!” he exclaimed, his voice suddenly raw and angry sounding. “She even opened her eyes once and looked up at me. And then she smiled! She actually goddamn
smiled
at me! But when she remembered, an expression of abject horror overcame her face. That was the last time we ever saw each other, and the memory still haunts me. Even now, I have nightmares about it.”

As Chelsea watched his tears gather, she desperately wanted to comfort him. But the right words seemed a million miles away, ephemeral, fleeting, impossible to capture and use. Soon Chelsea felt her eyes well up, too. Having at last calmed himself, Brandon again sat down beside her.

“So now you know,” he said. “But the story doesn’t end there. After Mallory’s death, Pug began pickling himself in booze and our friendship died. Then his father passed, Pug inherited the logging business, and due to his drinking he drove it straight into the ground. That put some of the locals out of work, and they resent it to this day. As you might guess, he has few friends left. After the logging business closed, he became a handyman, but he doesn’t get much work.”

Pausing for a moment, Brandon took another slug of bourbon.

He continued. “It’s as if Mallory’s death consumed whatever good once existed inside him, leaving him hollow and angry. I wish that things could be different for all of us, but they aren’t. I’ve often thought about selling both my cottage and house and starting over somewhere else. But I still love it here, despite all that’s happened. Besides, I could never abandon my patients.”

Brandon then reached out and caressed Chelsea’s cheek, his touch so light that she hardly felt it.

“And then,” he said quietly, “some brash city girl inherits the cottage next door, and in a matter of only a few days my whole life gets upended again. You want the truth, Chelsea, so here it is: You’ve affected me far more than you know, and I’ve developed a deep affection for you, too. You were a great surprise, because I never thought that my heart would experience such feelings ever again. Even so, I can’t say where our relationship is going. For better or worse, until you came along I was fully mired in the past. And now I feel like I’m being torn between the past and the present. I can’t honestly say which is worse, and as of this moment, there’s no way for me to know which side will win out. I’m sorry if you were hoping for more, because for now, this is the best I can do.”

Just then he remembered something he had once heard, and he shook his head. When next he looked into Chelsea’s eyes, a slight smile managed to break through his sadness.

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