When I Fall in Love (Christiansen Family) (30 page)

The beautifully decorated warehouse did capture the romance of the event, with the lights glittering, reflecting the joy awaiting Jace and Eden. Raina had stared at the dance floor too long, remembering her hopes for dancing under the stars with Casper.

How stupid she’d been to think that there might be a happily ever after waiting for her. That happened to other people, with lives that made sense.

She plunged her hand back into the hot, sudsy water, feeling around for a knife handle. The slick blade ran across the meat of her middle finger, burning even as she pulled back. Blood ran down her arm.

She grabbed a towel, pressed it against her finger.

“Are you okay?”

The voice jerked her around, and she saw Casper advancing into the kitchen.

“Did you hurt yourself?” He wore his leather jacket over a
white shirt and tie, a pair of dress pants, but his five o’clock shadow added a rugged appeal.

The kind of appeal that might make a girl forget her woes and jump on the back of his motorcycle.

Which, frankly, was how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place.

“I know better than to put a knife in the sink. I just got absentminded. It’s nothing, though
 
—a small cut.” She should have expected him to show up
 
—he’d seemed to be hovering the last few weeks, close enough to hear if she decided to call out, to need him.

Oh, how she needed him. But shame kept her mute. Now she watched, her heart bleeding out even as he came over, took her arm, inspected her wound. “It’s not deep
 
—probably doesn’t need stitches. Do you have a first aid kit?”

She pointed toward the kit attached to the wall, and he went to retrieve it.

“What are you doing here?”

He found a Band-Aid, a cotton ball, antiseptic, some antibiotic cream, and returned to her, moving her to the table. He patted it, and she slid onto the smooth surface. “The rehearsal dinner’s over, and I didn’t see you. I thought maybe you needed help with something, so I swung by, saw the lights, decided to make sure you were okay.”

Of course he did. Because that was Casper, the guy who showed up. Who stuck around even when she’d done everything she could to push him away. She watched as he cleaned her wound, then doctored it with the ointment and Band-Aid.

He wrapped the wound, then lifted her finger to his lips and sweetly kissed it.

Her face heated. “Casper . . .”

“I don’t know what’s going on, Raina. But if you let me, maybe I can fix it.”

She sighed, pulled her hand away, and slid off the table. “I don’t think you can fix this.” She returned to the sink, but he moved her aside.

“I’ll finish this.”

She picked up a towel as he shucked off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and plunged his hands into the water, gingerly feeling around for the knife. He found it, washed it with a rag, and handed it to her, handle first.

She dried it as he pulled the plug, letting the water drain. She put the knife away.

Then she stood in the quiet kitchen with him as he wiped his hands on a towel. He was such a handsome man, his eyes so blue it seemed she could fall into them, never surface.

“Casper, I . . .”

But she had no words because he took two steps toward her, caught her face in his hands. She didn’t have a bone in her body to resist when he leaned down and kissed her.

It was gentle, like before, but with a firmness, a resolute strength that made her lean into him. He smelled like freedom and tasted sweet and gingery. She pressed her hands to his chest, felt the frame of his work-hardened body.

How was she supposed to say good-bye to a man who kept showing up in her life?
But if you let me, maybe I can fix it.

What if he could? What if
 
—? No, it was crazy to think he’d still want her after knowing . . . knowing . . .

She pushed him away, her eyes filling. “I’m sorry, Casper.”

He stared at her, breathing hard. “Tell me what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything! It’s not you. I’m . . . I’m leaving Deep Haven.”

“What? Why?”

“I . . . I need . . .” Shoot, once upon a time, lies had come so easily. “I can’t be with you. I did something I shouldn’t have and . . .”

He closed the gap between them, took her hands, his voice earnest. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. Listen, sometimes life just . . . it blindsides you. And for a while, you’re lost.” He leaned into her. “I came home from college because . . . I hated it. And my grades showed it. I’m not cut out for college. But the worst part was, for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been hiding in Deep Haven
 
—and then I met you and I realized I was supposed to be there. With you. I thought that coming home was failure, but don’t you see? It was victory.
You
are my victory, Raina. You and I
 
—we can be happy there.”

Tears burned their way down her cheeks. Oh, how she wanted to grab ahold of his words.

But it didn’t in the least compare to her failures. “What about your trip to Roatán? Your pirate’s treasure?”

“I already decided that I am staying in Deep Haven. No more treasure hunting for me
 
—I found my treasure right here.” He cupped his hand to her cheek. “I think I’m in love with you, Raina.”

She tore her hand away, choking back a sob. Then she pushed past him and headed toward the door.

“Raina!”

“I’m not in love with you, Casper!”

There, she said it, and she didn’t slow as the words emptied out of her. Just ran past the tables toward the exit.

“Raina!”

No, no, no! But her eyes were blurry and she couldn’t see where she was going and
 
—“I’m sorry; I’m so sorry.”

Arms caught her. “Sorry for what, baby?”

She looked up and, with a cry, pushed herself away.

Owen seemed almost the spitting image of Casper, with his dark pants, jean jacket, his blond hair windblown. He looked past her to Casper, concern on his face. “What’s going on here? You okay? My brother giving you trouble?”

“Stay away from me, Owen,” she said softly.

“Whoa. I guess you’re still sore at me.”

She wanted to slap him. Instead, she cast a desperate look at Casper.

Casper stared at his brother, stricken. “Raina?”

She had the surreal sense of her world shattering, right there in the middle of the twinkle-lit dance floor.

With a sob, she pushed past Owen, out into the night.

She had no illusions; she’d finally managed to cut Casper out of her life.

Please, Lord, let me not be too late.

The desperation in Max’s prayer made him lean forward into his steering wheel, look heavenward.

He hadn’t talked to God much in the past ten years, not wanting to bother God too much before he really needed Him, but . . . today, right now, he needed the Almighty to look his direction. To care. To stop Brendon from doing something stupid.

His headlights cut a swath over the dark, twisted highway of northern Wisconsin, illuminating shaggy evergreen, the forest thick with birch, oak, and poplar.

He’d already nearly hit two deer, and now his gaze darted from one side of the road to the other. He glanced at his cell phone, then back to the road, wishing he could pick it up, call again.

But his phone had died an hour ago, and in his rush to leave, he’d forgotten his charger on the counter.

At least he’d called Jace, left a message, cryptic though it was.
Jace, I think my brother’s in trouble. Tell Grace I’m sorry.

Coward that he was, he couldn’t face her.

“Brendon’s missing.” The two words spoken by Lizzy, her voice trembling, had cut off every word he’d wanted to say to Grace.

Every apology, every stupid admission of emotion
 
—all gone. What was he doing, declaring his love for her, telling her he wanted a future with her? He could bang his head on the steering wheel with the memory of it, the stupidity of his actions.

His conversation with her hadn’t in the least gone the direction he’d planned. He’d wanted to sit her down on the rock wall and tell her the truth.
I sabotaged our contest.

He imagined her expression, raw, hurt, the question emanating from her:
Why?

He forced himself to see the rest. The part where he told her about his disease, his fear of leaving someone behind, of . . .

Of watching her walk away.

Instead, he’d skipped over the essentials of that conversation to the happy ending. The part where he held her in his arms, kissed her
 
—no, inhaled her
 
—pulling her to himself until he felt whole and loved and healed.

He should be grateful for Lizzy’s call, the reminder in two words of exactly why he needed to walk away.

He kept dancing around the truth, like a moth around a flame, when he should have listened to his head instead of his heart.

But Brendon was different. He had a wife. A child.

A brother who needed him.

Max hit the brakes, slowing as he passed through the tiny resort town on the edge of Diamond Lake. This late at night he didn’t expect to see lights on, and he rolled by the darkened gas station, the library, the coffee hut, the bait and tackle shop, the long, low motel flickering a Vacancy light in neon red.

Impatience swilled through his veins as he accelerated back onto the highway toward the family cabin.

Please
 
—

He’d called Lizzy the moment he got back to his apartment and found out that she’d come home to a note on the counter.
Gone fishing.
Lizzy might have believed him except for the prognosis Brendon received from the doctor last week. The one that showed his disease progressing faster than average, as if catching up to Brendon after its years of leniency.

“His cognitive test showed a severe decrease in his memory, and the psychomotor test, where they combine memory and writing, was twice as bad. It’s coming on, and fast.” The tremble at the end of her voice told Max the truth.

She knew about the pact.

“I’ll find him.”

His promise now sat like an ember under his skin.

He slowed, looking for the signage to their road, then turned onto the gravel drive. The road threaded through thick forest toward the lake.

He drove up to the house, turned off the car, and got out.

The rush of wind in the trees, the faintest sound of bullfrogs along the shore, the rich fragrance of pine swept over him, an attempt to calm his racing heart.

But there in the driveway sat his brother’s economy Nissan. And beside it, his uncle Norm’s old truck.

His uncle wouldn’t have . . .

But Uncle Norm had experienced the devastation of watching his siblings’ disease advance through them, destroying them from the inside out. Dealt with the aftermath, filling in the gaps their deaths left behind.

Yeah, maybe.

Max went in the side door, flicked on the light. It bathed the kitchen and the main room that overlooked the lake.

“Brendon!” His voice boomed through the house and carried the edge of panic cultivated during the five-hour drive. “Where are you?”

He cut through the kitchen, down the hall. “Brendon!”

“Sheesh, you’re going to wake all of Wisconsin! What’s going on?” Brendon appeared at the door to one of the guest rooms, bare-chested, wearing a pair of pajama pants, his hair askew. “Is Lizzy okay?” He braced his arm on the jamb, blinking into the light.

Max didn’t know whether to hug him or deck him. Instead he turned and hit the wall, everything inside him spilling out hard and fast.

“Are
you
okay?”

“No, I’m not okay!” Max rounded on him. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

Brendon held up a hand. “Chill, Bro. It never rang. You know we get spotty service out here
 
—”

Max let out a blue word, something that brought his uncle Norm to his door. “Max!”

He turned to his uncle, still hot. “Uncle Norm, seriously
 
—
Brendon takes off, leaves a note for Lizzy saying he’s gone fishing, and
 
—”

“And we’re fishing, son. You should see the freezer. Brendon landed an eight-pound walleye.”

Max wanted to hit something again as he stared at his uncle, his brother. But he turned away, stalking down the hall, his hand to his head.

He sank into the old recliner, scraping his hands down his face. Fishing. He could still taste his heart in his mouth, despite his efforts to swallow it down.

He heard the floor creak and looked up to find the duo staring at him like he might be the crazy one.

Then the realization clicked on Brendon’s face. “Oh . . . wow,” he said, sinking onto the tweed sofa. “You thought . . .”

“What was I supposed to think?” Max might never flush the anger from his voice at this decibel. He took a breath, schooled it into something less threatening. Something that contained the horror he felt. “Lizzy told me about the tests.”

Brendon flinched one eye and looked away.

His uncle sat next to him on the sofa. “What tests?”