The Comfort of Favorite Things (A Hope Springs Novel) (11 page)

Ellie shook her head, her frown causing her glasses to slip. “Frannie rarely lets him out of her sight,” she said as she pushed them back up her nose.

“She didn’t seem overprotective,” Lena said, leaning close to the mirror and smoothing her eyebrow before pushing the post of the first ring into place. “Just wanting him to have good manners. And, well, not talk about what went on at home.”

“Unfortunately, talking about it is the only way he seems to be able to deal,” Ellie said with a shrug, her hand on the doorjamb at face level. “He talks about it all the time.”

“About the abuse?” Lena asked, finishing with the second ring and catching Ellie’s reflection in the mirror, her heart catching, too.

Ellie blinked, then looked down as she said, “And his dad setting fire to their house.”

Her stomach bunched in knots, Lena’s hands stilled as she turned and met Ellie’s gaze. “Are you serious?”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

“But they’re okay?” What a stupid question. How could anyone be okay after that?

Ellie nodded. “Physically. And they’re staying here to make sure they remain so.”

“The dad doesn’t know where they are?”

“No.” Ellie pushed off the doorjamb. “Though I imagine he’s trying his best to find out.”

Lena couldn’t keep it in any longer. “This is a shelter or something, isn’t it? For abused women. I mean, don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. I saw the scars on your arms—”

“We’re all just staying here, living here, for now,” Ellie said with a shrug, pulling down on one sleeve then the other as she did. “We’re all fine. Just . . . careful.”

“It’s good to be careful,” Lena said.
God, why did she have to keep saying the wrong things?
“And I’m sorry. I seem to be stepping over a lot of lines I shouldn’t tonight.”

“You, Lena Mining, are so sweet to worry,” Ellie said almost sadly, placing her hands on Lena’s cheeks then leaning close and kissing her.

It was a soft kiss. Quick and gentle. Just Ellie’s lips touching Lena’s and pulling away. Nothing more. Nothing insistent. But so unexpected Lena didn’t have time to react before Ellie took a step back, gesturing over her shoulder. “I’m going to run and get started on supper. You know where the kitchen is. Come find me when you’re done.”

Then she was gone, leaving Lena with the last of her rings to deal with, and the invitation she’d been waiting for. Now to figure out how to answer it without making a mess of things.

CHAPTER TEN

D
akota was standing on the cottage’s tiny square of a front porch when Indiana arrived the next morning, guiding her low-slung Camaro to a stop next to his truck. He had his first cup of coffee in hand. He’d hoped to be on his third by now. Dealing with his sister and her questions and Thea on top was going to require a lot of caffeine.

His brain wasn’t there yet. Sleep would’ve helped, but it was getting harder and harder to come by. Something about suppressed thoughts bubbling to the surface when he closed his eyes. His degree might be in engineering, but he’d taken enough psychology classes and seen enough shrinks while in prison to figure that out for himself.

So he wasn’t exactly sorry to see Thea pull in behind his sister as Indiana got out of her car. Good, he mused, watching Indiana turn to see who else had arrived so early. The two could catch up and maybe this whole intervention could be put off for another day. Though in a perfect world everyone would just leave him alone now and get together after he was gone.

Bringing his mug to his mouth, he saw recognition dawn in his sister’s expression. She left the sack of what he assumed were his breakfast tacos on top of her car and ran to Thea.

Thea had just slammed her door, and left the bag of what he assumed were his kolaches on top of hers, meeting Indiana between the Subaru’s front end and the Camaro’s back.

Their hug was huge. They rocked back and forth. They pulled away to get a closer look. They screamed and they cried and they gestured wildly and held hands and jumped for joy.

Great. His breakfast was going to get cold and stale and soggy while they revisited a decade plus of life. He whistled once, waving for both women to grab the food and get their asses in gear.

Indiana waved back as if telling him to hold his horses. Thea just ignored him. He waffled between heading inside for more coffee, or heading down the steps to the food. The word
waffle
did him in. As much as he wanted to wait them out, his pride tasted like cardboard.

He set his mug on the porch and took two long steps to the ground before crossing the yard to the cars. He reached across the Camaro’s roof for the first bag, across the Subaru’s for the second. Then he growled out the words, “I’m hungry,” and returned to the cottage.

In the kitchen, he dug two tacos from the bag to heat and shoved half of a kolache in his mouth while he waited. He was still chewing when the door squeaked open and laughter filled the front room. It nearly choked him when he tried to swallow. It was the laughter of his teen years, the same two voices he’d listened to through the wall adjoining his bedroom to Indiana’s.

He reached first for his empty mug, then for the coffee pot, pouring while he tried to hide his cough but spitting crumbs everywhere. The women walked into the kitchen to find him with his hands full as he spewed the remnants of his kolache into the air.

“Good grief. Are you all right?” His sister came toward him, brushing his shirtfront clean and taking the carafe from his hand, then patting his back as if that actually helped. “You’re making a mess.”

“Trust me,” he said, barking another cough before sipping at the hot coffee to clear the rest of the kolache from his throat. “Not what I intended.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Thea was coming?” she asked, fetching two mugs from the cabinet. “I would’ve brought more food.”

“I brought plenty of kolaches.” Thea stood at the kitchen’s entrance, one brow arched as she added, “Or there were plenty last time I looked in the bag.”

“I had one,” Dakota said, holding up a finger to defend himself. “One. And half of it ended up in my windpipe.”

“I don’t remember you being one for wasting food,” Thea said.

And then his sister responded, “No, but he was always one for making a mess.”

He came so close to mentioning the mess that had sent him to prison, but managed not to be stupid. Just annoyed at being ganged up on, though it served him right for bringing both women here. “I’ll clean up the mess. And the rest of the kolaches are yours.” He nodded toward the microwave. “I’ll just take my tacos and coffee to the porch while you two have a nice long visit.”

Indiana grabbed his sleeve before he took a step. “Not so fast, big brother. I see what you did there.”

Of course she would have. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She glanced at Thea, then arms crossed, glanced back. “You mean it’s completely coincidental that you invited an old friend to join us for the breakfast where you and I were supposed to continue yesterday morning’s conversation?”

He shrugged off his guilt. “I thought you two might like to catch up.”

“I asked you about this when you suggested I join you,” Thea said, waving a hand she then shoved to her hip. “You told me I wouldn’t be in the way.”

“You’re not in the way,” he said with an expansive gesture, nearly sloshing what was left of his coffee from his cup. “Plenty of room. And once I get out of here, there’ll be even more. You can get on with your girl talk, and I’ll get to work.”

“As lovely as it was of you to surprise me, I didn’t come here for girl talk,” Indiana said. “Thea and I can do that later. When we have more time and I don’t need answers from you.”

“I don’t have any answers to give you, Indiana. I don’t have any answers to give Clark here. Hell, I don’t have any to give myself.”

She looked down for a moment, frowning, her lips pressed tight, then said, “Fine. Deny it all you want, but there’s got to be a reason behind your wanting to leave. You told Tennessee you were going. You told Thea—”

Well that hadn’t taken long, he mused, looking at Thea. “Thanks.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

“It’s not. It’s just—” He looked from Thea to Indiana, then hung his head. Screw it. Might as well get this crap over with so he could get back to his life—what there was of it—and to work. “Look. I don’t want to disappoint Tennessee more than I already have. Okay? Happy now? Moving on is just a simple way to exit a bad situation.”

“Why do you think you’ve disappointed him? And how in the world is moving on going to make anything better? And what bad situation are you talking about? Because honestly . . .” Indiana stopped, gathered her cloud of dark hair and held it at the back of her head, then let it go. “I think you’re overreacting to something. I just can’t figure out what.”

His sister. Poking holes in everything as always. And probably more right than he wanted to admit. “You know he and I talked about making a go of the construction gig as partners. Keller Brothers. We discussed it for years. Well, turns out I’m not much a fan of construction.”

“Have you told him you don’t like it?” Indiana asked, as if doing so was the most logical thing in the world. “It’s not like he’s making you work for him.”

No, but guilt was, an admission that sounded as dumb as it probably was. “I’m not going to say anything. And neither are you. I’m not going to let him down. At least not like that. He’s been talking about our finally being in business together since the day I got home.”

“Give him some credit,” she said imploringly, rubbing at her forehead as if her head was hurting as badly as his. “He’s not going to buy this bad situation bullshit anymore than I am.”

“Uh, guys,” Thea said, interrupting. “I’m going to head outside—”

“No.” Dakota said the word without even thinking, his gaze on his sister when he did. Indiana leaned both hands against the counter in front of the sink and stared out the window above.

That was when he let his gaze drift to Thea. Her arms were crossed and she was staring at the floor, the rooster tail on top of her head flopped to one side. He could see a few strands of gray at her temple where the morning sun through the window lit the side of her face.

Stress? Worry? Secrets she was having trouble keeping?

He was still looking at her when he said, “I’m not happy here, Indiana. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“No. We can’t. Not without you giving me a reason why.” She faced him again, stomping one boot and nearly wailing the words. “I don’t understand.
Are we not enough for you? Me and Tennessee? What’s out there”—she
waved one arm, nearly slamming it into Thea—“that you don’t have here?”

“Don’t even say that. That you’re not enough. It’s not that.” But it was, wasn’t it? He needed something more. He needed answers: Why had he been duped by the boy who’d assaulted his sister? Why hadn’t he been able to see the truth beneath the surface of Robby Hunt? Why had he thought that beating half to death someone he’d considered a friend would make what had happened to Indiana any better?

Why had he chosen a path that made things worse?

And then. To walk out on his brother and sister when he was almost twenty-two years old. Indiana had still been in high school, Tennessee in college. He could’ve gone home with them the day he’d left prison, but he’d had to live for three years with the truth of what he’d done.

How he’d ruined their lives as completely as he’d ruined his own.

Now he was living with the consequences. “And I don’t know.”

“Neither one of those is an answer,” Indiana said with a sigh. “And neither one of them explain why you have to leave town.”

He spun on her then. “What exactly am I going to do if I stay in Hope Springs?”

“Whatever you want to.” She was waving her arms again. This time Thea backed out of the way. “Go into business for yourself.”

“Doing what? Using what money? What credit? I got nothing, Indiana. Nothing.” And admitting that in front of both of these women was one of the lowest moments of his life. “Don’t you get that? Is that so hard to understand?”

Tears welled in her eyes. Her mouth trembled. “Tennessee and I can help you. What do you want to do? You’ve got a degree. Do something with it.”

“That degree on my résumé . . .” Was he the only one who got the joke? “Isn’t there some saying about lipstick and pigs?”

“It’s not that hard to turn a bad situation into a good one, you know,” Thea said.

Yeah right. He looked at her, all covered up and inaccessible, hiding, really. That’s what it was. “Is that what you’ve done? You and all the women you’re supporting?”

Her eyes flared. Her nostrils, too. He expected any second to see smoke coming out of her ears. “We’re doing just fine, thank you. Not that it’s any of your concern. And not that my circumstances have anything to do with yours.”

“You sure about that, Clark?” he asked, goading her and unable to stop. What a joke, pretending they could avoid the past. It was alive in this very room, clawing at them both, angry and hurtful and refusing to let go.

Thea was barely civil when she said, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just go there.”

“Go where?” Indiana asked, looking from one to the other. “What am I missing?”

“Listen—”

“No,” Thea said, raising a hand to cut him off. “You and your sister finish this up. I’m in the way.” She gave Indiana a hug. “It’s good to see you. We’ll do lunch soon and catch up properly?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll see you at the shop,” Dakota said because he couldn’t deal with leaving things this way.

“Can’t wait,” she said, the roll of her eyes adding another tangle to the knot of Dakota’s gut.

Once she was gone, he leaned against the counter across from the sink where his sister still stood, and dragged his hands down his face. He was too tired to think. Too fed up with being tired to even know what he was doing. Something had to give. Something had to change.

He looked at his sister and saw the girl she’d been in high school. Her dark hair. Her freckles. Her innocence that he’d very nearly let get ruined. “I’m sorry I wasn’t in touch. I’m sorry you had to send a PI to find me.”

“I missed you. I needed to know you were okay. I needed you in my life.” She stepped forward and laid her palm on his cheek. “I love you.”

Then she turned and left the kitchen, left the cottage, and moments later, left the property on Thea’s heels.

Dakota grabbed his keys, his lukewarm tacos and cold kolaches, made sure the coffee pot was off, and headed out the door. He slammed that one so hard the front room window rattled. Then he slammed the one in the truck so hard he set off the alarm. “Shit.”

Why in the world had he told anyone he was thinking of hitting the road? He’d never told anyone previously. He’d finished a job and vanished, given his notice and gone. Sure, this was different; he was working for his brother. Turning in his resignation wouldn’t be as simple as it had been in the past.

Tennessee would’ve asked the same questions. He’d have gone to Indiana. That part Dakota could understand. He owed his siblings more than he’d given them the last time he’d split. But Thea was different. She was a job. He was a contractor. He didn’t owe her a thing. Except he did. He owed her all.

She was why he was still in one piece and for the most part sane. And he was going to tell her that when she said he’d ruined her? Not likely. Though, he mused with a self-deprecating snort, she was very possibly the reason he was alone. Meaning she may have ruined him, too. That was when his snort became a laugh, because what a waste. Of years. Of trying not to think of her when he was with other women.

The idea of being meant for one single person didn’t work for him. He didn’t buy into all that woo-woo crap. Besides, he and Thea weren’t involved beyond their working relationship. The years they’d spent together, he realized as he pulled to park behind Bread and Bean, had been one of those moments out of time. It had mattered then. It wasn’t meant to be repeated. That’s just how things worked. Just how it was.

It couldn’t be any other way.

Checking to see that he hadn’t missed anything in the cab, he slammed the truck’s door and headed for the bed and his toolbox.

“Hey, dude.”

Dude?
He glanced toward the chocolate shop next door. The woman who worked there, the one with the chunks of colored hair, was walking toward him. “By ‘dude’ I guess you mean me?”

“Yeah, sorry. I don’t know your name.”

“Ditto.”