The Return of Brody McBride (13 page)

“I’ll watch the girls Friday night, so you can talk to Brody alone,” Owen called. She walked away without answering to go upstairs and put the girls to bed.

Owen turned to Pop. “Those two are a powder keg sitting in the middle of a thousand firecrackers going off. One spark and they’ll ignite.”

“Ask me, I think they could both use a knock-down-drag-out fight to get them where they both want to be.” Owen waited, knowing the rest of Pop’s thought already. “Right back in bed, which will only lead to her giving up her heart to him all over again.”

“Why do you think she’s the one who’s got to give in?”

“All you have to do is look at Brody. He’s willing to give her anything, do anything to have her and the girls. This is what he’s been working toward, what he came home for. Nothing and no one will stop him from having it. It’s too important to him.

“He finally feels like the man Rain always thought him to be. Before, it was a lofty aspiration to achieve the status she put him at. Now, he’s got his military background, a business, money, and the pride in knowing he worked his ass off to make himself the man she deserves.”

Owen sat quietly and listened to the sounds of the family upstairs. He took a sip of coffee and settled into the realization Pop was right. Brody finally had his act together. All he had to do was convince Rain, get past her defenses, and not screw it up like he’d done in the past.

Chapter Ten

B
RODY SAT ON
the bed, his daughters on either side of him, the photo album open on his lap. Their comments and delight at showing him the snapshots of their lives was infectious, but with each passing page and years of their lives nothing more than images on paper, he grew sadder and more resigned that he wouldn’t be relegated to a weekend father, only seeing glimpses of their lives as weeks passed and all he got were a mere few days with them. He wanted the daily routine, the big and small moments of their lives etched into his memory, not burned into paper for him to look at and not know the feelings and emotions they felt and he experienced when the moment was captured.

“This is the kindergarten play. I was the farmer’s wife and Autumn was a carrot in her garden. The play was about vegetables and nutrition.”

“Carrots help you have good eyesight,” Autumn recited, obviously part of her lines from the play.

“You two were adorable in your costumes.”

“Mom made them. She helped us with our lines until we knew them by heart,” Dawn said, turning the page.

Halloween pictures, the girls marching in a line at their school in a parade. Their smiles bright. Dawn dressed as Snow White, and Autumn as Tinker Bell. Further along, pictures of Christmas that year. The girls sat on the floor in front of an oddly decorated Christmas tree. Most of the ornaments were clumped near the bottom half of the tree, the part they could reach. The sight of the tree made his heart ache at the same time he wanted to smile.

Each of the girls had a small stack of presents beside them as they tore into one between their legs. Wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows strewn all around them. Owen and Pop sat in chairs nearby, their faces alight with joy and smiles as they watched the girls’ exuberance in opening their gifts. Rain wasn’t in the picture because she was the one taking them, but he could imagine that behind her smile lay a sadness that he missed it again that year. And would for the next as well. But not this year. This year he’d be there to watch his girls trim the tree, open presents, and delight in the wonder and joy of the holiday like only kids can do.

“I got a doll.” Autumn pointed to the picture of her holding up a baby doll with golden curls around her pretty face.

“I got a checkers game,” Dawn added.

“Santa didn’t bring the bikes we asked for,” Autumn said, a little sad.

“Do you guys have bikes now?” he asked.

“They’re baby bikes,” Dawn said with a frown.

“They’re too small for us to ride,” Autumn added.

“Mom says they cost a lot of money and we’ll have to wait until she can save up enough,” Dawn continued.

“Girls, it’s time to get ready for bed. You’ve got school and softball practice tomorrow. You’ll want to be rested.”

“Can Dad read us books before he goes?” Dawn asked.

Rain gave him a nod, letting him know it was okay with her. “I’d love to,” he answered, choked up.

“Why don’t you two go downstairs and say goodnight to Pop and Uncle Owen, then come back up and brush your teeth.”

Both girls ran for the door. Dawn sailed past her mother, but Autumn stopped and wrapped her hands around Rain’s waist and hugged her. Rain ran her hands over Autumn’s hair and down her back, then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead when Autumn looked up at her.

After Autumn ran after her sister, Brody said from the bed, “She needs your constant reassurance and show of affection.”

“She’s not as confident in herself as Dawn. She’s sensitive, takes things to heart much more deeply.”

“She needs you.” Brody picked up Autumn’s baby book next to him on the bed. “You’ve got a good and kind heart. I can’t imagine Roxy raising her, crushing her soft heart under her stilettos.” He held up the album. “There’s not a single photo of Roxy in here.”

“I’m her mother.”

“The one I would have picked for her,” Brody confirmed. “You love her as your own. Because she’s mine,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t answer a loaded statement like that. She surprised him and sat beside him on the small single bed. The mattress and frame creaked under their shared weight.

“I’m begging you, Brody, please don’t take her from me. As much as that little girl needs me, I need her. She’s my daughter. I loved her the minute I held her in my arms. I’ve been the only mother she’s known.”

“You’re the only mother she’ll ever know. You may not want to hear this right now, but I want us to be a real family.”

“Brody, what you’re asking . . .”

“Is better left to another time as well. Right now, all I’m asking is that you give me some time to prove to you we can have what we had before. Only this time we’ll make it better and last forever. We’ll watch our girls grow up, get married, and have babies of their own. We’ll have more children.”

She shot to her feet and took several steps away toward the window. Opening Dawn’s baby book, he stared at the picture of Rain pregnant with his child.

“You were beautiful, all round and glowing pregnant with Dawn.” He traced his finger over the outline of her swollen belly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you through the pregnancy. The birth,” he said, choked up. “I missed it all. You missed having me there beside you.

“I never got to hold them when they were babies, never heard their first word, helped them stumble along on unsteady legs as they learned to walk.”

“I’m sorry it hurts you to hear about the girls growing up to this point and you missed it. I wish with my whole heart you were here to see and experience it with them.”

“I’ve let you down in so many damn ways. I don’t deserve a second chance, Rain, but I’m asking, begging you to forgive me enough to give us all a chance to see if we can make a life together.”

“It’s not fair to lump the girls into this.” She kept her back to him. “All it does is make me look like the bad guy if I don’t forget what’s happened and let you back into my life and my bed, have the happily-ever-after those girls are hoping for desperately.”

“What are you hoping for?” he asked quietly.

“It’s been a long time since I hoped for anything for myself. All my time and energy is for those girls, hoping for their happiness and doing my damndest to give it to them. You’re a part of that happiness, Brody. Don’t think I don’t know it.”

“So, you’ll let me spend time with them, because you know it’s what they want as much as I want it. Will you let me spend time with you?”

“Let’s start with them, Brody. They’re more important than anything else.”

“You’re important to me. As much as I want to make up with them for missing the first seven years of their lives, I owe you a hell of a lot more.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I forgave you everything a long time ago. Because of them.”

“You’re still angry with me for leaving you.”

She put her arm up, hand grasping the window casing, and rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. Crying for their past, he thought. He’d wished a thousand times he could cry it all away, but could never bring himself to do it. Rain did it for him.

He wanted desperately to go to her, stand behind her and wrap his arms around her, but the weight of the moment held him back.

Water ran in the bathroom; the girls brushed their teeth and chatted. Time was running out on this intimate moment they shared, and he didn’t know how to bottle it and keep it.

The girls ran into the room seconds after Rain quietly left. “Dad, will you read us four books?” Dawn asked. “Please,” the girls chorused together.

“Get your pajamas on, girls. You can each pick out two books.”

He put away the albums while they changed, unfazed at having him roam about their room, looking at their things, pictures they’d drawn, stuffed animals peeking out of baskets, toys littering the floor and filling a chest. Everything two little girls needed, provided almost exclusively by Rain. A tangible reflection of Rain’s affection and love for the girls. His only mark on the room and their surroundings, the three photos of him. One showed him leaning against his old truck, arms crossed over his chest, a cocky, smug look on his face. Another of him prowling after Rain, walking up the dock, a wide grin on his face, his arm outstretched to her. He remembered grabbing her after she snapped the photo. He’d stolen a kiss, tickled her unmercifully before picking her up and running off the end of the dock and into the cool water.

The last photo was of the two of them as teens. He couldn’t remember who’d taken the picture. It didn’t matter. He’d never seen it before, but he remembered how he felt when he held Rain in his arms like that. Leaning back against a tree, she stood in front of him, his arms banded around her chest, her hands holding his arms. Her face tilted up, and the look in her eyes as she stared up at him was mesmerizing. He could see the love there, captured in that moment as he looked off at something in the distance.

God, had they really been that young once. It seemed a lifetime ago.

If only he’d looked down at her in that moment and seen how much she loved him, maybe he’d never have turned his back on it.

“Dad, are you okay?” Autumn asked tentatively from behind him.

“Just looking at this old picture of your mom and me.”

“It’s our favorite,” Dawn said. “There aren’t many of the two of you together. We don’t have any new ones of you. Do you have pictures of you in the Army?”

“Some.” He turned away from the dresser and the past he was only now seeing clearly.

“Mom said you got hurt several times, but the last time it was really bad. She said you could have died. It made her sad,” Autumn confessed from her lavender covered bed. “She cried.”

Not wanting to frighten them, he gave the matter a serious answer without all the details. “I was hurt very badly. Some of my friends didn’t make it, others were hurt worse than me. But I’m okay now,” he added to reassure them.

“Are you going back to the war?” Dawn asked, her lips drawn into a deep frown.

“No, baby girl. I’m staying here with you both.”

“And Mom?” Autumn asked.

“Definitely with your mom. When I was in the hospital, I thought about her all the time. I came home to see her, and I found the both of you.”

“We were a surprise,” Autumn said with a smile.

“Yes, you were, sweetheart. A very good surprise.”

“If you’d have come home and I was gone with Roxy, would you have come to get me?” Autumn asked, her gaze on the bed, but her words a desperate plea.

Dawn’s eyes blazed. She watched and waited for an answer. Every instinct he had told him Roxy did something terrible to his little girl. He’d make her pay dearly for it.

Easing down onto the edge of the bed beside Autumn, he vowed, “There is no place on this earth she could take you that I wouldn’t hunt her down and find you and bring you back to me and your mother.”

Her eyes raised to his, her chin trembled slightly. “Promise?” she asked, breaking his heart that such a small child needed a promise like this.

“I swear it.” He gave her the words she needed to hear and the vow he swore he’d never break.

Dawn broke the tension by leaping into his lap with her books. “I want this one first.”

Autumn’s face turned her attention to the book in his hands. The last few minutes tucked away, forgotten for now. “Scoot over, baby girl. Make room for me and your sister.”

Brody read the books to the girls, one tucked under each of his arms and pressed so trustingly to his chest. In all his years, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this content. Except maybe when he’d had Rain lying down the length of him. Since that one night they’d shared together, all he’d felt was discontent and half-empty without his other half.

After all the books were read and he answered several questions for the girls about following the rodeo circuit when he left town, to joining the military, he tucked them into their beds. He kissed Dawn on the forehead and brushed his nose against hers, making her giggle. Then, he moved on to Autumn. Planting his hands on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her. He stopped when her little hands came up and held his face, her right hand softly tracing the cut on his temple.

“Does it hurt?” Her brows drew together. Her worry for him touched a place in his heart he thought long decayed and shriveled up.

“Not so much, baby girl. Not as much as my heart will hurt missing you and Dawn until I see you again.” Never one to share his feelings easily, he found it so simple to tell her how he felt.

“You could come to softball practice tomorrow and watch us play,” Dawn offered.

He kissed Autumn on the forehead, brushed his nose to hers, and said, “I’ll be there.”

Standing in the doorway, looking back at them tucked into their beds, both watching him, he took in the scene and sighed. Overwhelmed, he said, “Goodnight, girls. I’ll send your mom up to say goodnight. I love you,” he added, meaning it wholeheartedly.