RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer\Woodrose Mountain\Sweet Laurel Falls (49 page)

“That should be interesting.”

The unexpected male voice in the room jerked her attention away from Taryn. She whirled and found Brodie leaning against the doorway, a warm, amused light in his eyes.

“Dad! Hi.”

For some ridiculous reason, Evie's face heated. How did he keep
doing
that? The man had a very frustrating habit of turning up when she was most ill-prepared. To be fair, it
was
his house, but she'd still like to ask him to knock so she could have a little warning. Even a few seconds might give her time to brace herself against the ridiculous reaction she couldn't seem to control.

“Hey.”

“Must have been a rough day if we're bribing with extreme makeovers.”

“Nothing we can't improve on tomorrow, right, Taryn?”

“I guess,” Taryn said.

“Hannah Kirk came by and we had a really nice visit earlier this afternoon,” Evie informed him. “And we've spent the rest of the day working on stretches and a few exercises to work tone and strength.”

“How has it been going?”

Like wrestling a very uncooperative alligator in a vat full of vegetable oil.
“Great,” she lied through her teeth. “Taryn is working very hard.”

Taryn ducked her head, refusing to look at either of them.

Brodie didn't answer for a moment and when Evie met his gaze, she saw just a hint of sympathetic apology there. “As long as you're trying your best, kiddo. That's the important thing. Are you guys done for the day?”

“Yes. I'm actually on my way out,” Evie said.

She suddenly was in desperate need of a little time and distance, space to remind herself of the hundreds of reasons she couldn't afford to fall for Taryn—or Brodie, for that matter.

“I'll walk you out.”

She eyed his fingers on the door—strong and blunt-tipped and drumming slightly on the wood, as was his habit, she'd noticed.

If she were clever and smart, she would come up with some way to tell him she didn't need pretty manners from him. She could find her own way out the door.
Excuse me, but you make me nervous. I'd rather you stayed far, far away
didn't seem like a very mature, intelligent response. Instead, she forced a smile. “Right. I just need to grab my bag.”

She found it and said goodbye to the home-care nurse and then again to Taryn, promising to bring her makeup kit with her in the morning.

Nerves skittered through her as they walked outside and she was aware of him with almost painful intensity. Like a toothache, she told herself.

As they walked outside, she inhaled deeply of the evening air, cool and sweet with the scent of pine and sage. Though still an hour or so from full dark, an owl hooted from the forest that surrounded Aspen Ridge. Summer evenings in Hope's Crossing were nothing short of spectacular—late-summer evenings perhaps even more so since there was an edge of desperation.

Mother Nature seemed to be urging everyone to enjoy what they had now because in a few short weeks she would start hurling wind and snow and cold at them all.

When they approached Evie's little SUV, Brodie reached to open the door for her. “I've got another interview tomorrow,” he said. “Want to sit in? I'm sorry this morning's was another dud. If you hadn't been there and at the others, I could have made some hiring disasters.”

She thought of the arrangements she had made with Hannah earlier. “Um, what time?”

“Early. Eight-thirty. How does that affect your makeover plans?”

They might just barely make it. “We can adjust. Afterward, if it's all right with you, I'd like to take Taryn on a little field trip into town.”

The blue of his eyes looked murky in the gathering twilight. “You really think that's a good idea?”

“Why, don't you think it is?”

“I don't know. She still seems vulnerable right now, emotionally
and
physically. Everyone in town is so invested in her recovery. I'm not sure she's ready to be shoved on display like that when she still has a long road ahead of her.”

The fire of her temper began to simmer and she worked hard to tamp it down. “She wouldn't be on display. I only wanted to get her out of the house.”

“And I think that's a great idea. Don't get me wrong. I just know how people can be in Hope's Crossing. The minute she walks into town, everybody is going to be staring and whispering.
There goes the girl who was in the coma for six weeks. Look at her now. She used to be so pretty.
”

“She's still pretty,” Evie said stiffly.

He seemed a little taken aback by her tone. “I couldn't agree more. My daughter is beautiful. More beautiful than ever to me, because I see just how courageous she's been in the face of some pretty terrible stuff. But not everyone is going to see her situation the same way you or I do. People can be idiots. I just don't want someone to say something hurtful to her.”

She ratcheted back her anger. Brodie was only a father trying to do the best he could for his child under the circumstances. She needed to give him more credit—at the same time, she felt obliged to point out the hard truth.

“You can't protect her from the inevitable, Brodie,” she murmured. “Eventually somebody's going to say something stupid or thoughtless or both.”

“I know. Can you blame me for trying to protect her as best I can?”

“How could I blame you for that? Listen, my plan is to take her to String Fever for no longer than an hour. Most of that will be before the store even opens. The only people we'll probably see will be Claire Bradford and perhaps your mother. She'll be fine, Brodie. I promise. I'll watch out for her.”

* * *

H
E
COULDN
'
T
DOUBT
her sincerity.

Evie's blue eyes glowed with passion and resolve. She even reached out to touch his hand in that intriguing way she had of using touch to emphasize a point. Heat from her fingers radiated on the back of his hand and for an instant, he completely lost his slippery grip on the thread of their conversation.

“If we see anyone else, it will only be perhaps a few bead store customers. I don't know how much you interacted with your mother's customers when she owned String Fever, but I can promise you most of the women who come into the store are bubbling over with kindness and compassion. No one will hurt Taryn.”

“You really think she's ready?”

“It's only a quick trip to a bead store, Brodie. I think she'll be just fine. At this stage in her rehab, I promise I would never ask her to ride on a float in the Independence Day parade. But I think a small outing among caring friends will be very helpful.”

The breeze coming down from the mountains played with a few wispy blond strands of hair that had slipped free of the twisty thing holding the rest of those luscious curls at bay. He was vaguely appalled by his sudden urge to reach out and slide it between his fingertips just to feel if her hair was as soft as it looked.

“You probably think I'm crazy to worry so much about her.”

“I think you're a concerned father watching out for his child. Nothing wrong with that.”

“I suppose she might benefit from returning to some of her familiar places. It might give her the motivation to work on her goals. Crap television apparently can only take you so far. Who knew?”

She laughed again and it slid down his spine, low and sultry. He really had to get control of himself. Every time he was around her, he felt this wild attraction seethe between them. At first, he thought it must be completely one-sided and he felt like an idiot for being so drawn to her, but lately he was beginning to wonder.

The last few times he'd come into Taryn's room while Evie was working with her, he was almost certain she had blushed a bit—a hint of color, just a pale pink wash over her healthy tan. She invariably tried to hide it behind bold confidence, but he sensed something in the way she looked at him that wasn't completely immune to that same simmer of awareness.

He had to remember that, mutual attraction or not, she was here only because his mother had forced her through emotional blackmail to help them with Taryn. She didn't want to be here and the first chance she had, Evie would be returning to her job at String Fever. When that happened, no doubt they would once more find themselves on opposite sides of any issue that came along affecting their town.

“I guess it should be fine tomorrow,” he finally said, firmly reminding himself his responsibility right now was to Taryn, not to his long-neglected love life. “You'll have to take her in the wheelchair van. I can give you a quick lesson on the ramp and tie-downs in the morning, after the interview.”

“No need. I'm sure I'll figure it out. Most of them work the same and…I used to have one myself.”

She said the words in such a rush, he thought at first he'd misunderstood. “You had a wheelchair van?”

Those delicate strands of hair danced across her face and in the fading light she suddenly looked vulnerable and remote as she looked out at the valley below them. “A few years ago I adopted a young girl with special needs,” she finally said.

Shock held him silent for just a few beats. He couldn't imagine anybody stepping up to volunteer for the misery of uncertainty and struggle his family had lived through the last few months. “Seriously?”

Evie sighed. “It's kind of a long story. She was a client of mine at my physical therapy practice. Her mother and I became friends over the years. When Meredith, Cassie's mother, found out she was dying of cancer, she didn't have anyone else to turn to. Her family was all gone and Cassie's father had never been in the picture. She asked if I would consider guardianship. I had worked with Cassie for several years by that point and I loved her. I couldn't bear the idea of foster care for her so I agreed.”

Somehow he didn't imagine the story was as simple as she made it sound in that no-nonsense tone. What sort of sacrifices had she been forced to make to provide a home for someone else's child?

“Cassie's disabilities required her to use a wheelchair, like Taryn, so we also had a ramp-equipped minivan. I'm sure I'll remember how to work the ramp and the tie-downs on yours. If not, I'll figure it out.”

Of all the life journeys he might have expected Evie Blanchard to have traveled, this one wouldn't even have made the list. With those hippie clothes she favored and her bleeding-heart politics, he could easily picture her volunteering at some orphanage in Latin America or driving food-aid vehicles into distant African villages or joining the Peace Corps to teach school in New Guinea.

So why did adopting a child with disabilities seem such a startling concept?

“What happened to her?” He had to ask the obvious question, even though part of him was quite certain he didn't want to know the answer.

She gazed down at the lights of town, beginning to flicker on with the sunset. “She died two years ago. Before I came to Hope's Crossing, obviously.”

He had known, without her even saying the words. He'd seen the truth in the shadows in her eyes.

“I'm sorry.” The words seemed pitifully inadequate, especially from his own recent perspective of coming so close to losing Taryn. Right after the accident, doctors had tried to prepare him that the outcome was likely grim because of the extent of her injuries. During those long weeks of her coma, he had lived through a wide gamut of emotions. Fear and guilt, sorrow and sheer pain.

In the end, they'd been given a miracle. Taryn had come out of the coma on her own and she was, step by arduous step, rebuilding herself.

“I'm very sorry,” he repeated.

“I had two years of her love. I have to consider that a blessed gift.”

He gazed at her—delicate and lovely, yet with this core of strength he was still discovering. “This is the real reason you left physical therapy. Why you didn't want to help with Taryn's care.”

She didn't answer, only shrugged.

“Good to know it wasn't simply because you dislike me so intensely, then.”

He was grateful for his attempt at levity when amusement flickered briefly on her features. “Well, that was certainly a factor.”

Her small smile faded quickly. “Actually, Brodie, my reluctance to help Taryn didn't really have anything to do with either of you. After Cassie died, I just…lost my heart. I couldn't do the job anymore. Everything was too painful. I would be working with a patient and suddenly burst into tears for no reason. I would have to reschedule an entire day's calendar of patients because I was huddled in my office, trying to muster the energy and strength to face the treatment room. I couldn't help them. If I couldn't save my own child, how could I help anyone else's? And why should I bother to try?”

His heart seemed to squeeze in his chest. How had she come through that kind of pain?

“Since I couldn't give my patients what they needed anymore, I knew I had to get out. What to do with the rest of my life, though? That was the dilemma. Your mother came along at just the right time, convincing me to come to Hope's Crossing for a visit.”

“And you stayed.”

The gleaming lights of town below reflected in the intensely blue depths of her eyes. “I stayed. I can't explain it but Hope's Crossing soothed all those angry, wailing voices inside me. I found peace here working at the bead store, hiking in the mountains, creating my own bead pieces.”

“That's what my mother meant when she said she knew the steep price of what we were asking of you.”

“I could have said no.”

“But you didn't.” He was struck again by how lovely she was, that silky mass of blond hair slipping free of its pins, the delicate planes and curves of her features. “We dragged you out of that serenity you fought so hard to find and shoved you back into doing all this again. I wish I'd known.”