Silent Hearts (Hamilton Stables 3) (5 page)

“You okay?” Becca asked once they pulled down her driveway and were parked outside her house.

“Yeah, just thinking.” Nick rolled his head toward her, and Becca opened her mouth to ask him something, but Nick’s brain couldn’t handle any more questions, any more thoughts. “See you tomorrow?”

Her mouth snapped closed and she glanced out the windshield. “Right. See you tomorrow, Nick.”

B
ecca woke to the sound of someone or something banging around in her kitchen. Immediately, she grabbed the baseball bat she kept beside her bed and started out the door. Thank God she hadn’t woken up thirty minutes before to exercise like she’d planned or she might have been killed by the intruder.

She edged down the still-dark hall because the sun wasn’t fully awake either, and then jumped into the kitchen, only to scream and then listen as the person in her fridge screamed, and then the baby on said person’s hip began to cry. Loudly.

“Reagan? What in the hell—?”

“Shhh!” her sister reprimanded, then pointed to the child sitting at Becca’s kitchen table, her hands over her ears like earmuffs. Her light brown hair was parted down the middle and pulled up into two high pigtails that hung in curls, and she had the same olive complexion as most of the Starks.

“Oops, sorry, Anna banana.” Becca dropped the bat on her couch and walked over to peck her niece’s chipmunk cheek, then glared at her sister. “What are you doing here this early in the morning?”

“We’re out of milk and Anna wanted cereal.”

“Why are you out of milk?” Becca grabbed the gallon jug from her fridge, poured it over her niece’s cereal, and then replaced it before turning on her sister, who was suddenly very interested in the kitchen sink. “Reagan?”

The sun’s rays cast in through the window over the sink, highlighting shimmery tears, and Becca’s heart sank. “What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it here.”

Becca motioned to the family room, which, with the open floor plan, wasn’t much better, but it was a small house, what could she do? “Ty lost his job again, and my credit card was declined at the market yesterday. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

Reagan dried her tears with the back of her hand, then ran a hand over baby Cade’s head, and the sucker in Becca sighed. “How much do you need?”

Reagan’s face lit. “Seriously? You’ll help us?”

As though Becca hadn’t been the one to bail them out every single time Ty lost his job, which was pretty much every other week. Ty was the perfect example of why high school superstars don’t matter. He was quarterback of Triple Run High, every girl in the school wanted him, and Reagan snagged him. But then, when Ty realized that his talents in a small town didn’t translate to college and he was placed on special teams, then benched, he moved back home and drank his sorrows away.

What made it all worse was that Ty still thought of himself as a superstar and told stories of his best games to anyone who would listen. And Becca might feel bad for him, if it weren’t that he treated her sister like it was all her fault and his children like they were nuisances.

Becca’s mother had warned her against helping her sister, saying Ty put Reagan up to asking Becca and would take her for all she had if she wasn’t careful, but Becca loved her niece and nephew. How could she let them suffer? It wasn’t their fault they had crappy parents.

Though she only worked at the diner, Becca saved every dollar she made, so she had quite a savings by now. It all started with her obsession with Dave Ramsey years ago, and her determination to make the best of what she had. Then her grandmother died, and because Becca had been the one to care for her—and okay, the favorite—she left everything to Becca. Which wasn’t much. But a house with no mortgage and twenty thousand dollars wasn’t anything to sneeze at. So whenever Reagan came over, Becca always caved.

And her deep loathing for her brother-in-law grew still more.

“Reagan, maybe it’s time you get a job and let Ty stay home with the kids.” At her pointed stare, Becca sighed. “All right, so maybe not, but I bet Aunt Karen would agree to keep the kids while you work.” Their aunt and uncle lived on the Stark property, too, which had been Becca’s grandmother’s. There were three homes there—one Uncle Mark and Karen lived in, the other Reagan took over, and the last was Becca’s house. The property was fifteen acres in total, and though that would normally feel like a fair amount of land, with the Starks Becca needed more like a hundred so she could breathe without her family always showing up.

Her parents had moved to Florida years ago, and though they visited from time to time, they were content in their bubble. Instead of coming back to Triple Run, which her mother had always hated, they insisted that Becca and Reagan visit them there. Which was the reason Becca had dropped out of college in the first place, to take over caring for her grandmother. No one else would step up to the plate, and Granny refused to move to Florida, so Becca had no choice.

Years later now, she still wondered for what might have been. What might have happened if she’d finished her degree, worked at a hospital or doctor’s office, and maybe met and married a doctor husband of her own? But then her mind drifted to Nick, and she shook off the thought. Even if she’d finished her degree and training, her heart would always belong to Nick Hamilton.

After handing over sixty dollars and a check for five hundred more, Becca placed her hands on her hips in her best attempt at mimicking their mother. “This is for groceries. Understand? Don’t you dare give a dollar of it to that POS husband of yours.”

“Hey! He’s not—” Becca cocked her head and her sister relented. “Fine, okay.”

“What about clothes and stuff? Are they okay?”

Reagan eyed her kids affectionately. Though she had horrible taste in men, she loved her children. That much was clear. “I think they’re okay. I was going to run to that consignment shop in Crestler’s Key tomorrow and pick up a few things.”

“I’ll go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m off today.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence before, finally, Anna asked to go home and play with her cat. It was a stray kitten Becca had found wandering around behind the diner last week. At first, she’d brought it home, all gray and white and full of fear, telling it that she would give it a good home. And she’d planned to do just that. Until Anna walked into her house and squealed with excitement, and Becca handed over the kitten and everything she’d bought it, her heart happy.

“Please, Mommy,” Anna said again. “Mittens is probably crying for me.”

“Mittens? I thought her name was Ramsey.”

Reagan deadpanned, “Seriously? You named the cat after a financial guru?”

“Hey,” Becca said with mock offense. “Dave is a genius.”

“Mommy . . .”

Shaking her head at her sister, Reagan lifted Cade higher on her hip. “You are such a dork.”

“Well, at least this dork can buy milk.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” Becca said with a fake frown.

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not. But it’s because I think you deserve better.”

Reagan released a long breath. “I know, I know. All right, little bits, let’s go. I love you, big sister.” She hugged Becca’s neck, and Becca kissed Cade’s head before walking over to hug her niece tight.

“You can spend the night with me next Saturday if you want. Movie and popcorn?”

The little girl bounced, her curly pigtails bouncing along with her. “Really?”

“It’s a date.” Becca kissed her cheek, then waved them all good-bye.

She had just started to close the door when a hand reached out to stop her. “Good God, what now?” Becca opened the door, only to startle back.

“Man, Bec, is that the greeting you give everyone at seven thirty in the morning or just me?” Nick flashed her that grin she loved, and a part of her wondered what it would be like to be able to lean in to kiss him. To feel his arms around her. To snuggle against his chest.

“Bec?”

She shook her head to clear it. She needed coffee, stat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I noticed your car looked dirty.”

Becca stared at him. “And . . . that’s new how?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair. “Fine, I wanted to get out of the house. Trip kept calling me to talk about the offer, and then Alex came over and I had enough. So I told them I had to get over here to help you with something.”

“And that something is my dirty car?”

For the first time, Becca noticed the wash bucket and cleaning supplies in Nick’s hands. “What did you bring over, everything you own?”

“No, of course not. I stopped at the Ace on the way over.”

“That’s like a hundred dollars’ worth of stuff.”

Nick shrugged and Becca glared at him.

“What? I’m trying to be nice here.”

Becca opened her mouth to tell him that there were people out there, people a house away, who couldn’t afford to buy groceries and he was throwing money away on her stupid car. But then she thought it wasn’t fair to hold his wealth against him. He was a generous man, constantly donating to charities and events around Triple Run. He was rich, but he wasn’t showy about it.

At least not usually. She eyed the impressive display of cleaning supplies. “So we’re cleaning?”

Nick grinned. “Go get changed. I’ll make you coffee.”

 

Nick watched Becca sashay down the hall, his gaze traveling to the hem of her nightgown, barely covering her ass, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from following her to her room for a morning of something very different from washing a car. But then he thought about his brothers, and how Becca was the only person in the world he trusted anymore, the only one who truly understood him, and he forced himself to turn away instead, the screen door hitting loudly on his way out.

The sun wasn’t fully out yet, like his half-dressed friend inside, and as he breathed in the crisp morning air, he took the opportunity to scan Becca’s yard. Ancient Toyota Highlander parked in the carport, the azaleas perfectly trimmed by the house. Around back he would find the same porch swing and hand-painted pots overflowing with plants, the small vegetable garden, and then the rest was just grass. Grass that should have been cut a week ago and was likely driving Becca crazy. She liked to keep everything in perfect order, but time wasn’t always on her side—or money.

Nick thought of the lawn service that handled all of the farm, including his house, and decided he would add one more stop to their rotation, Becca’s stubbornness be damned. She could consider it payment for putting up with him all these years.

“Where are we doing this?” The screen door hit against its frame, and Nick turned, only to do a double take at what Becca was wearing. Or rather how little. His eyes swept quickly down her sports bra and barely there shorts, before snapping back up to her eyes. Thank God he had transition lenses on his glasses, or else she’d know exactly what he was thinking right now.

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

She eyed her outfit. “Did we have the conversation about me burning up yesterday or not? If we’re washing my car, I’m going to make sure I’m comfortable. Besides, I might work out after.” Nick cocked his head, and she threw up her hands. “Fine, I won’t. But it was this or a bikini, and I figured I’d take it easy on you.” She winked at him, and he had to order his throat to swallow because suddenly all he could think about was Becca and a bikini and how the hell he could convince her to go back inside and change into said bikini.

He was pathetic.

“Nick?”

“Hmmm? Oh, right. Have your keys?”

“They’re in the ignition.”

He grumbled as he headed toward the carport. “You don’t lock your front door and you leave your keys in your ignition? What is wrong with you?”

A grin played on Becca’s lips. “Plenty, but not nearly as much as is wrong with you, so zip it or I’ll go back in and you can handle this car-washing business all by your lonesome.”

The grumbling turned to laughing, and Nick thought how often that were the case around Becca. Within moments in her presence, he was smiling or laughing, relaxed. “Fine, consider me zipped.”

“I’ll get the truck, you go fill the bucket.”

“All right, but I have to head to Crestler’s Key today, so I don’t have all day for this. None of your obsessive detailing. And no wax.”

Nick stared at her. “There’ll be wax.”

“Nick, come on. You know I don’t care.”

“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

“What? Nobody on the planet could follow that line of thinking, especially not at seven thirty in the morning and only one cup of coffee in her.”

Sure the conversation was going nowhere, Nick continued on toward the carport, calling over his shoulder, “And what are you doing in Crestler’s Key?”

Becca waved to her car. “Get the car first and then I’ll explain.”

With reluctance, Nick opened the driver’s side door and slid the seat back to accommodate his height, then shut the door, and Becca’s scent washed over him, clouding his mind for a moment. Damn, when did he start noticing things like Becca’s smell? Surely that wasn’t normal?

Shaking himself from the trance, he backed the car out of the carport and then drove over to where Becca stood beside the large oak in her front yard. “The car is here, now explain the Crestler’s Key business.”

“Since when are you all Triple Run pride and nothing else? That feud between Crestler’s Key and Triple Run was ages ago. Who cares about it now?”

“Everyone cares.”

“Not me.”

Nick turned on the water, filled the bucket with more soap and water, earning an annoyed look from Becca, and tossed her a wash glove. “Don’t let them hear you say that in town or you’ll get exiled.”

“If only.”

Nick’s hand froze on the hood of the car, and he peered over at her. “You want to leave?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someday. Sometimes I feel like I’ve done everything here and I need to leave so I can do something new. Live a little.”

“What about finishing nursing school?”

He couldn’t see her expression from where she worked on the opposite side of the car, but by her silence he guessed that wasn’t in the cards.