More Than Neighbors (30 page)

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Authors: Janice Kay Johnson

Tags: #romance, #Contemporary, #Family Life, #Fiction

BOOK: More Than Neighbors
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His gaze suddenly stern, he said, “That’s nonsense! You were a good sister. Always sensitive to her moods, and able to coax her to do something when neither your mother nor I could. You should have heard her during the drive. She was really excited about seeing Ciara.”

Another broken sound. “And me, I’ve been dodging her. Visiting with you or Mom when it didn’t mean me having to see Bridget, too.”

“She’s a challenge. We all know that.”

“But...she’s my sister.”

“That’s true,” her father agreed, “but she’s not your responsibility. She never has been. I think we made a mistake dragging her to things like school events or insisting she be part of your birthday parties—”

“Mom said she overruled you. That she was the one determined to make sure Bridget was part of everything.”

“That’s true,” he said again, “and I still don’t know who was right. I didn’t want her hidden away, either, but I could also see what her presence did to you. It wasn’t fair.”

“But it was good for her,” Ciara said slowly, as if she was looking through a viewfinder that allowed her a perspective she’d never had before. “I was thinking just a couple of days ago how far she’s come. I mean, there was a time she’d never have been able to handle such a long drive or a stay in a strange house. All the racket today.” This last was hard to say. “Getting on a horse being led by a strange man.”

“That’s all true, too.” He smiled at her. “But Gabe, he has a way about him.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“You still haven’t said what the problem with Gabe is. Or am I wrong that there’s something going on between you?”

“No, you weren’t wrong. It’s me.” She pulled her feet up so she could wrap her arms around her knees and curl into a tight ball. “I told him how I felt about Bridget. I think...um, I shocked him.”

“Did you say, ‘I love my sister, but sometimes her behavior was embarrassing because I was a child and then an adolescent who was hungry to fit in but couldn’t always because other kids associated that weird girl with me?’”

She blinked. “You make it sound so natural.”

Her father was smiling at her. “Because it
is
natural. I had no idea you were torturing yourself like this.”

“But I’ve been an adult for a long time. Gabe said—” After a pause, she told him.
You looked at Bridget, and then you looked at Mark.

“That makes sense,” he said thoughtfully. “If you didn’t see Bridget, it was easier to block your fears.”

So simple. She sat thinking about it, separate from the devastation of everything
else
Gabe had said, and to her shock discovered tears were running down her cheeks. She put out her tongue to catch them, tasting the saltiness. She didn’t even know why she was crying.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her dad scooted over to engulf her in a hug. She laid her cheek against his chest and felt such astonishing
relief
.

“I love you,” she mumbled, and he laughed.

“I know. And I love you.”

“Sometimes I feel like such a mess compared to you and Mom!”

His chuckle was so comforting. “We both had our breakdowns, you know. We just hid them from you two. And maybe that was a mistake.” He eased back enough to look gravely into her eyes. “We had each other, too. When one of us faltered, the other one was strong. You didn’t have that. You’ve been too much on your own. I wish your mother and I could have done more.”

“How could you, when you have Bridget?” For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel even a pang of resentment. They had their hands full. She could take care of herself. And...they’d have given her more, if she’d asked for it.

“You’re our daughter, too.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I do love her.”

“Of course you do,” he said comfortably.

“Gabe says I can’t give Mark everything, that he needs other people.” She could say it, after all. “He thinks I’ve been wrapping him in cotton wool.”
Smothering him.

Her father remained silent.

Ciara closed her eyes. “I can see that he’s right. It...might be different if I loved being his teacher, but the truth is I feel inadequate. I think I
am
inadequate. It wouldn’t be so bad if he loved history or literature, but no. It has to be math and sciences. I
hated
geometry, and I never even took chemistry or physics or...” She stopped. “I’m just so afraid if I send him to school here, it’ll end up just like it did before.”

“You know, I have the impression he wasn’t as shattered as you thought he was. He’s a pretty darn confident kid, considering.”

“About some things.”

“At twelve or thirteen years old, is
any
body confident about everything?”

She had to laugh. Of course they weren’t. She’d once believed the popular kids brimmed with confidence, but now knew better. The very cruelty of the boys who’d attacked Mark might have its roots in some deep-rooted fear or sense of inadequacy. “Point made.”

“You know we’ll support you no matter what you decide.”

Now she did. She slid her arm around his waist to hug him back. “Yep.”

“Why don’t you visit the school?” he suggested. “Talk to the principal, to teachers.”

“They’re out for the summer.”

“I’m betting they’re around. This is a pretty small town. Besides, I seem to remember that by August they’re back to work getting ready for the next school year.”

Ciara made a face at him. “As always, you’re right, o wise one.”

Her daddy laughed, kissed her and said, “Good to know I’m appreciated.”

“I suppose we should get back to the party.”

“I suppose we should.”

She heard a crash inside and winced. Soccer ball. Reluctantly, she stood. “Here goes.”

“Give Gabe a chance,” her father said, as he, too, rose to his feet and crossed the porch with her.

She had only a moment to nod before they went inside, where she immediately heard her son’s voice raised as he tried to explain why the soccer ball hitting the lamp had just
happened
.

* * *

G
ABE HAD JUST
stepped out his kitchen door in the morning, a second cup of coffee in his hand, when he saw a flurry of activity up at Ciara’s that told him her family was departing. Ben was loading suitcases in the rear of the SUV as doors were opened, the three women talked and Mark and Watson circled around them all. There were hugs—even Mark submitted to one from his grandmother, and Ciara and Bridget...well, Gabe couldn’t tell. They at least said their goodbyes.

As the SUV receded down the driveway then turned left on the road, Mark and his dog wandered around behind the house. Ciara stayed where she was. From this distance, he couldn’t see her face, but there was something forlorn about that solitary figure, watching long past the point where she’d be able to see the Toyota.

Gabe ground his molars and forced himself into motion. The Malloy family had taken enough of his time. Today he was putting a finish on an entire set of cabinets, then this afternoon riding Hoodoo to the Beems’ place on the other side of his property to give him a workout with some cattle. Gabe had neglected him lately. Mark would have enjoyed coming with him...but he needed a break from
all
the Malloys.

He ignored his phone when it rang midday, and he recognized the number. He left the phone behind when he went out to saddle Hoodoo, who was even more fractious than usual. He didn’t do his best cutting that afternoon, either. Partly the horse’s fault, partly Gabe’s. He caught himself using legs and rein in ways that only confused the animal.

They tried and tried again, until things went a little better, and he decided to quit on a high note.

He’d been aware that Henry Beem had come out to drape himself on the fence and watch the past hour.

“Ran some weight off those steers, did you?” Henry remarked.

Gabe shook his head. “They did a little more running than they should have. Hoodoo and I aren’t at our sharpest.”

“Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Been busy.” He asked politely after Verna’s health, learned that their son Gerry had been promoted to manager at Boeing and their granddaughter was expecting what would be their fourth great-grandchild. Gabe knew only one of their three children lived nearby, which meant they didn’t see all that much of those great-grandchildren, but he guessed that was the way it was for most people. There wasn’t all that much work to be had locally. He’d been lucky to be able to pursue his livelihood and stay in the family home both, he knew that. Henry was tactful enough not to regret aloud that Gabe didn’t have a family, although the pity was there in his eyes. Henry believed wholeheartedly in family.

Gabe tipped his hat and rode home, clomping along the narrow shoulder of the road, his thoughts consuming enough that Hoodoo was halfway up his driveway before he saw Mark, wearing his new cowboy hat, waiting outside the barn.

Gabe’s “Damn” was heartfelt. At his growled outburst, the sorrel’s skin shivered as his ears swiveled like a pair of miniature radar.

“Where’d you go?” Mark asked as soon as he was within earshot.

“Worked some cows over at the Beems’.” Gabe jerked his head to the north.

“Oh. I wish I could have watched.”

Gabe said nothing, only riding past the boy and dismounting when he reached the fence where Aurora waited, nickering a greeting.

He loosened the girth and hauled the saddle off, slinging it over the fence.

“You want help?” Mark asked.

“Not today.”

“Oh.” He shifted. “Grandma and Grandad and Aunt Bridget left today.”

“Did they?”

He took that as encouragement and started to chatter first about the visit, then how Mom said maybe tomorrow they could do something together, but today she had to work.

“But she said to ask if you could come to dinner tonight,” he concluded.

“Tell her thanks, but no. I’m going to grab a quick sandwich and work this evening.”

“No?” Mark seemed shocked. As well he might, since Gabe didn’t recall that he’d ever before declined one of Ciara’s invitations.

“I’ve taken enough time off today.”

“Oh.” Apparently, that was his fallback word. “Can I come over tomorrow?”

“No, I’m delivering some cabinets.”

“Well, then, can I—?”

Gabe raised his eyebrows. “I thought you and your mom were going to do something.”

“She’d probably be happy if she didn’t have to.” For once, the boy seemed teenage sullen.

“Don’t expect me to buy that. Your mother lives to make you happy.”

He gave a sulky shrug.

Gabe set aside the rubber curry comb he’d been using on Hoodoo’s sleek coat and reached for the stiff brush.

Mark backed away. “I guess I’ll go home, then.”

Regretting the effect his crappy mood was having on the boy, Gabe said, “Let’s plan on a session day after tomorrow. That work for you?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come to dinner that night.”

“We’ll see,” Gabe said noncommittally. Damn, he was going to look like a real son of a bitch if he kept saying no, but he couldn’t imagine right now how he’d sit across the table from Ciara and pretend nothing was wrong when everything was.

A hoof shot forward, almost catching Gabe in the knee. He dodged it, smacked Hoodoo on the rump but also said, “Sorry, boy. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, was I?” He’d been plying the brush with unnecessary vigor on the horse’s sensitive belly.

He used more care as he finished grooming Hoodoo, checked his hooves and turned him out, to be greeted by Aurora.

Gabe hadn’t lied; he’d half intended to go back to work, but if anything, his mood was worse than it had been when he saddled Hoodoo. Instead, he went into the house, poured himself a rare whiskey and soda and carried it to the living room, where he planted himself in his chair and sat looking at the row of photographs on the mantel. The ones he had begun thinking he might be ready to put away.

And he made a discovery that wasn’t entirely welcome: however savage the pain he felt now, he couldn’t take refuge in grief too muted by the years to provide the shield he needed. That time was past.

* * *


Y
OUR PARENTS AND
sister get home okay?” Gabe asked as Ciara handed him a basket holding rolls.

His tone was killingly polite, and he had very carefully avoided touching her when he accepted the basket. Her heart sank.

“Yes, Mom called to let me know they’d got there.”

“Grandad says he’ll look for someplace Aunt Bridget can ride,” Mark contributed.

If Mark had been anyone else, Ciara might have thought he had noticed the level of discomfort between the two adults and was trying to help ease it.

“I hope he means it,” Gabe said. “Bridget seemed to really enjoy getting up on Aurora.”

“It was nice of you to offer,” Ciara said, hating how gushy she sounded.

He flicked a glance at her. “I’m a nice man,” he said flatly.

Mark laughed as if that was uproariously funny. Ciara’s hand trembled so she had to set down her fork. Which hardly mattered; her appetite was nonexistent.

“More?” She nudged the bowl of peas Gabe’s way.

“Thank you.”

At the end of the meal, Mark dragged Gabe to the computer to see how cool his game was. She served them pieces of pie at the desk. Neither seemed to remember she existed. Seeing how engrossed they were, she quietly cleared the table, put away the leftovers, loaded the dishwasher and started it, all the while listening to them talk.

Some was about the game.

“See what happens here? You’ve got to be really fast.”

Gabe, amused: “I don’t know. I never was a whiz with arcade games. I’m kind of methodical.”

But there were pauses, pockets of conversation that took her aback. Gabe told Mark about a new client. He’d never worked with the contractor before, either, and was therefore wary.

“They claim to understand why it takes longer to get their cabinets, but I’m not so sure they really do.”

“Do you ever let anyone come and look around your workshop? Or even watch you work?”

“God, no!”

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