Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (15 page)

“You're probably right,” Brody agreed, rolling his neck to ease out the kinks. Now that the fire was officially out, he felt the weariness that had dogged at him finally take over. He stifled a yawn and followed Dylan to the fire truck, tugging his own helmet off. He wanted to take his heavy fireman's coat and pants off, but he couldn't until he got the order. He got to the truck, set his helmet under his seat and just as he reached for his jacket, his cell phone rang.

Surprised that it still had juice, he picked it up and glanced at the screen. Hannah.

“Hey, girl,” he said, letting a slow smile slip over his face. “You're up early.”

“Are you okay? Nothing happened?”

“No. I'm okay.”

“Why didn't you call me?”

He frowned at the shrill note in her voice. She sounded scared. “I just got off the fire a few minutes ago.”

Silence followed that comment.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. “You don't sound too good.”

“I'm not.”

Those two words sent a splinter of fear through him. “I want to come over.”

“No. It's okay.”

The tension in her voice made him think it wasn't.

“Give me about half an hour and I'm coming over. We need to roll up hoses yet.” He could grab a quick shower at the fire station—he was sure he had a change of clothes there. Then he could walk across to her place.

“I'll see you later, then,” she said, but there was no warmth in her tone. Just a cold statement.

Brody said goodbye, then ended the call and tossed his phone onto the seat of the truck. He couldn't stop a premonition curling around his midsection.

“You don't look too good,” Dylan said, dropping his hat back on his head. Until they were completely done, it was full gear.

“I've got to go see Hannah. She sounded all weird.”

“You go. I'll cover for you.”

“You sure?”

“Go. Now.”

Brody didn't need any more urging. Hannah's cold, detached tone gave his exhausted feet wings and, ten minutes earlier than he said he would arrive, he was knocking on the door of her apartment, running his hands through his still-damp hair.

The door was yanked open and Hannah stood in front of him, her hair pulled back in a tangled ponytail, her face looking haggard and worn. She looked more tired than he felt. He wanted to give her a hug, but as he moved toward her, she stood aside to let him in.

The apartment was quiet. Obviously the twins, tired from their outing last night, still slept.

Brody turned to Hannah, who had closed the door and was leaning against it, keeping her distance.

“So you're okay?” she asked, that same distant tone in her voice.

“Yeah. I'm fine. I would have called you but we were going flat out all night.”

Hannah's only response was a long, slow intake of breath.

“I can't do this,” she said, her tone flat. Unemotional. “I can't live with this ‘not knowing.' This fear. Last night I was so scared.” Her voice broke. Brody made a move toward her, but she held her hand up to stop him. “I can't do this again.”

Her words were like a cleaver. “What are you saying?” He hardly dared ask. What he wanted to do now, more than anything, was to take her in his arms. To hold her close and tell her that he wasn't reckless. That he was careful.

But the look on her face kept him rooted to where he stood.

“I think you need to leave, Brody. Now.”

“Okay. I get that you need some space.”

She shook her head so quickly strands of her hair came loose from her ponytail. “No. Not space. I need you to leave and not come back.”

He swallowed, wishing, praying she didn't mean what she said. Then she stood aside and opened the door with a finality that sent ice through his veins. “Please, go.”

He hesitated, hoping it was just her overheated emotions speaking, trying to make eye contact, but she wouldn't look at him.

So he swallowed whatever it was he wanted to say, and without another look at the woman who held his heart in her slender hands, he left.

Chapter Eleven

“T
he fair will go on,” Mayor Shaw said, standing by Hannah's desk, his arms folded over his chest. “Thankfully, the fire was far enough away from the booths and the midway that nothing besides the picnic baskets got damaged.”

Which was more than enough for Hannah.

“I got a few calls from some booth participants wondering about that, so I'll call them back,” Hannah said. “The midway people were also concerned, so I'll call them, as well.”

Hannah massaged her temples, wishing the pounding would go away. She'd had no sleep last night and, in a desperate need to keep busy, she had called her mother to see if she could come earlier to watch the twins. As soon as her mother showed up, Hannah had come across the street and opened the office, diving directly into her work.

The image of Brody standing in front of her, his expression desolate, haunted her all morning and she couldn't shake it off.

Nor could she shake off the feeling that she had made a colossal mistake. But what else could she do? She couldn't live a life of fear. She couldn't live with the reality that something could happen to him.

Her heart felt as if it folded in her chest at that thought. Losing David had been hard. Heart-wrenching, even.

However, last night, even the thought that something could happen to Brody dived deeper than the pain she felt when David died. So much of her sorrow for David was wrapped up in the fact that he would never see his children. She had lost David and had survived.

But the thought of losing Brody seemed to shake the very foundations of her life. She couldn't live with that fear every day.

“We need to carry on and I need to talk to Captain Daniels and find out if he knows what happened,” Mayor Shaw was saying, dragging his hands over his face.

Hannah pulled herself out of her troubles, concerned about the haggard look on Mayor Shaw's face.

“Are you okay?” Hannah asked. “Things seem to be piling up on your shoulders, as well.”

“I'm fine. Just frustrated with what's been going on in our town the past few months. This anniversary was supposed to be a highlight. A time of celebration, but it seems to have brought out the worst in some of our citizens.” He sighed again, then gave Hannah a tight smile. “For now, though the fair will go on, I am wondering if we shouldn't cancel this picnic basket auction.”

“Not all the donations were brought in last night,” Hannah said, thinking of the meager number of people willing to make food baskets today. “We could still have it with what is donated today.”

“Will it be enough?” Mayor Shaw asked. “I know we had talked about fifty baskets.”

Hannah glanced over at the papers she had pulled together—the names of people who had already donated baskets that were now soot and ash—and felt overwhelmed. Even under ordinary circumstances, the workload would be stressful.

But now, after the stress of last night and breaking up with Brody this morning, it seemed insurmountable.

You're the one who told him to leave. Don't complain if it hurts.

However, it did. More than she thought possible.

You didn't have to send him away.

“I think it's better than nothing,” she said, pulling her attention to the task at hand. “We can't have a fall fair without a picnic basket auction. We simply won't have as many.”

“You look tired, as well,” Mayor Shaw said, giving her a kindly smile.

Hannah waved off his concern. “Didn't get much sleep last night.”

He gave her an absentminded smile, then left. Hannah was about to return to her work, when the door of the town hall opened and Lilibeth Shoemaker walked in, clutching a brightly colored basket wrapped with cellophane and tied at the top with a silver bow.

“Here's my basket. I was going to say sorry it's late, but looks like it's a good thing I didn't bring it yesterday,” she said, setting it on the counter.

Hannah nodded, blinking back the pain of her own headache, then turned her attention back to Lilibeth.

“Thanks so much for your contribution,” she said, getting up. “We are going to need all the baskets we can get.”

“Yeah. I heard that most of the baskets got burned in the fire and that the fire was set on purpose.” Lilibeth snapped her gum and crossed her arms over her chest. “I also heard Brody was fighting the fire?” Lilibeth said, concern lacing her voice. “He okay?”

“Yeah. He's fine.”

“Good to know.”

A wave of weariness washed over Hannah and her mind went blank. Though she needed to keep busy, she felt as if she couldn't deal with one more thing. Part of her just wanted to go home, curl up in bed and push everything away. The same way she felt after David died. But, as she had after David's death, she knew the best thing to do was to keep going.

Besides, David's parents had called and asked if they could take the twins to the fair. Then they had asked if she could join them. She didn't have time, but had agreed, mostly because of what Ethan had said. She wanted to assure them that Corey and Chrissy would always be a part of their lives.

Besides, she had just given up on her one chance to have someone else in her life. What other man would take her in, a woman with two children already and David Douglas's widow?

“I had hoped to have about twenty-five baskets coming in today, but turns out I only have about fifteen, counting yours. That won't be enough.”

Lilibeth chewed her gum, thinking. “You know, we could get Vincente at the GGG to help us out. We could make, like, box lunches instead. Wraps, sandwiches. Those are easy to make a bunch of. Get a group of women baking stuff at home and delivering it to the GGG and a few others putting them together there.”

Hannah considered the idea. “That could work. It's just they'll all be the same.”

“We can make some different, but who cares. I thought the main idea was that whoever buys the box or basket gets to eat it with the person.”

“But if it's a secret—”

“It's never been a big secret,” Lilibeth said with a grin. “My sisters always put something on their basket to let whoever they want bidding on it to buy theirs. Just like I'm sure you're going to put something on yours so that Brody bids on it.”

“I'm not donating a box or basket,” Hannah said, fighting back the ache that the mention of his name created. “Pastor Ethan and I made a couple yesterday but he gave them to Abigail. I'm sure they're burnt up right now.”

Besides, she didn't want to make a basket and share it with anyone else but Brody. And she was fairly sure even if she did make one and Brody was at the fair, he wouldn't bid on it. She had made it clear that she didn't want him in her life.

Lilibeth pointed her chin at the stacks of paper that Hannah had sitting on her desk. “Those the people who made baskets?”

“Yes. The ones that got destroyed.”

“You give that list to me and I'll get me and my sisters to phone all of them and see if they're willing to do something else.”

“I'll talk to Mayor Shaw and see if he'll approve to cover Vincente's costs.”

“Okay. Here's my number. Give me yours and we'll stay in touch.” Lilibeth pulled out a cell phone and in a matter of seconds their numbers were in each other's phones. “You don't worry about this. It will all come together,” Lilibeth said.

Hannah felt a huge load drop off her shoulders at the girl's offer. She handed her the papers, holding on to them for a brief moment. Lilibeth gave her a puzzled look. “What?”

“I'm sorry,” Hannah said, releasing her grip. “I'm so sorry that we suspected you of stealing the time capsule.”

Lilibeth shuffled the papers, then released a gentle sigh. “That kinda hurt, but I guess if someone sent you a note with my initials...” She shrugged. “I mean, who else could L.S. be? But I'm glad you don't think I did it.”

“We doubted from the start that you were the culprit, but we had to follow through on the note,” Hannah said with genuine regret.

Lilibeth nodded. “Well, here's my chance to prove Jasper Gulch wrong,” she said a gleam of determination in her eyes.

“Thanks again. You have no idea what a load you've taken off my shoulders.”

“That's good. And if you have time, stop by the triple G. You can make a new basket for the auction.”

“I don't think so.”

“Brody will be disappointed,” Lilibeth said with a knowing wink.

“Doesn't matter what Brody thinks.” Hannah pressed her lips together, fighting down a wave of sorrow.

“Hey. What's wrong?” Lilibeth asked.

Hannah waved her off, forcing herself to smile. “Nothing. It's okay.”

“No, it's not. You look upset.” Then Lilibeth narrowed her eyes, as if something had just occurred to her. “Did you and Brody have a fight? I mean, it's no secret you two like each other.” Lilibeth gave her a coy smile. “I saw you two kissing on the merry-go-round yesterday.”

The flush warming Hannah's cheeks was as unwelcome as it was unexpected.

“It w-wasn't really a fight...” Hannah wished her voice wasn't breaking like that.

“But something happened, didn't it?” Lilibeth said, sympathy lacing her voice. “Was it bad?”

Hannah wasn't sure what had gotten into her. The moment, the emotions, the fact that another woman was showing her some sympathy. “Yeah. It's...it's over between us.”

The finality of those words seemed to suddenly hit her and she choked back a sob.

Lilibeth put down her papers and, to Hannah's surprise, gave her a tight hug. “I'm so sorry. That's gotta be rough. I mean, for you with your two kids, it's probably hard to find someone.”

In spite of her sympathy and Hannah's own wavering emotions, she had to smile at Lilibeth's blunt honesty. “Well, it's because of the two kids that I needed to break up with him.”

“You broke up with him?” Lilibeth's incredulity made Hannah, once again, doubt the wisdom of what she had done. “Then I guess it's really over between you two.”

Hannah pulled back and tugged a tissue out of the box on her desk. It was running low. She had been using it all morning. “Why do you say that?” she asked, dabbing at her eyes, hoping her mascara wasn't running.

“Brody's not the kind of guy to give a girl a second chance. My sister dated him awhile. She wasn't sure she wanted to stay in Jasper Gulch, so she kind of told him they should take a break, but he said they either move on or they're off. They never dated again. I heard he was seeing a girl in Bozeman after that. Same thing. She broke up with him and then she changed her mind. He said no. They were over. He said Book-it Brody doesn't look back. Got to be kind of a thing with him. He's a proud kind of guy.”

Hannah felt as if the breath had been sucked out of her as the reality of what Lilibeth told her hit her.

What did that matter, she told herself, wiping her eyes again. It
was
over between her and Brody. She couldn't live like that. Wondering. Worrying. She had her children to think of.

But even as she tried to tell herself this, other images slipped into her mind. Brody so careful with the kittens, so patient with her on the horse, so cautious with Corey and Chrissy. She tried to brush the thoughts away. It was over. She had made the right decision.

Lilibeth patted her again. “Hey. It's okay. You'll be fine. You seem like a tough lady.”

“Thanks, I think,” Hannah said with a quavery laugh.

Looking suddenly self-conscious, Lilibeth stepped back and picked up the papers she had set down. “I'll take care of this and you, well, you'll be okay.”

“Thanks, Lilibeth,” she said, wondering if she would.

* * *

“Don't even start that, mister,” Brody said to Dylan, who was covering his mouth, stifling a yawn. “You'll get me going.”

Dylan just shrugged as he bent over to get another batch of plastic fireman hats for the kids that were stopping by the booth they had set up at the fair.

The smell of smoke from the fire still hung in the air. Even the sharp smells of corn dogs, funnel cakes and mini doughnuts couldn't mask the constant reminder of what had happened last night and the repercussions for him this morning.

Brody rubbed his eyes, as if trying to erase what had happened this morning. The steady, jangling tunes of the carousel and the electronic bleeps, buzzes and chirps from the other rides were like a drill in his exhausted brain. He had to fight his annoyance at the continuous noise. He knew his feelings had less to do with the noise of the fair than with what Hannah had told him fewer than twelve hours ago.

Stop. Move on. Book-it Brody doesn't look back.

But the old mantra, much like the nickname, wasn't a part of him anymore.

“Can't believe you're not more tired,” Dylan said, handing out a coloring book and some crayons to the young children that had stopped by their booth. “At least I grabbed some sleep. You've been going steady.”

It was the only way he could keep his mind from reliving what Hannah had told him.

“I'm beat,” Brody admitted, fighting another yawn. “I'll stay a couple hours more, then go home.”

“You're not staying for the basket auction?” Dylan sounded surprised. “But—”

“Hey, kids, want to go into the fire truck?” Brody asked, cutting his friend off midquestion, walking away from Dylan to the kids standing in front of their booth.

“Can we? That would be awesome,” the oldest boy said, his eyes wide with amazement. Brody got permission from the mother, who followed him to the now-gleaming truck parked behind their booth. It had taken him and the guys most of the morning to get it back to parade-ready condition. The tires weren't as clean as he would have liked and some of the supplies inside were missing, but for the most part it didn't look as if it had been involved in fighting a fire fewer than twelve hours before.