Loree Lough: Raising Connor

He sat, then looked up at her and met her steady gaze blink for blink. “Okay. I’m sitting,” he said. “Hit me.”

She leveled him with a look that made him think she might just do it.

“I thought you said you wanted to be eye to eye?”

For the second time in as many seconds, it seemed as if she might clean his clock. Then she shook her head, sat across from him and folded her hands on the table. Eyes blazing, she opened her mouth to speak...

...and the phone rang, startling her so badly that she nearly overturned her coffee mug. Too early for a social call, he thought as she got up to answer it.

“Yes, this is Brooke O’Toole....” Shading her eyes with one hand, she walked toward the sink. “So that’s it, then. You’re absolutely sure.”

He heard the catch in her voice and resisted the urge to go into the living room and pick up the extension to find out what had caused it.

After she hung up, Brooke continued facing the wall, cupping her elbows, shaking her head. Finally, she returned to the table.

“I asked for fingerprint identification,” she explained, though he hadn’t asked who had called or why. “More proof it really was them. Since Beth is a teacher, I knew hers would be on record. But it seems Kent had a record of his own.” She stared at some unknown spot on the wall behind him. Then, rubbing her eyes, she added, “The deputy thought it might be a good idea to speak with a lawyer in case Kent’s former burglary victims have a mind to sue the estate for restitution.” She held her head in her hands. “Estate. What a joke. I haven’t even had a chance to look for a will, if there is a will.”

His heart pounded out an extra beat as he thought of the disc.

“I wouldn’t worry,” he said. “That trouble Kent got into...it happened a long, long time ago, and he paid for it with months in juvie and years in the Marines. I didn’t know him back then, but I’d bet my entire business that time served is what turned him around. The military has a way of turning boys into men.”

She aimed a guarded look his way. “And you know this because...?”

“Because fifteen years ago I enlisted in the army.”

He watched as she did the math, realized what he’d just admitted.

“And Kent was in the Marines.” She harrumphed. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“Such as...”

“Such as why Kent couldn’t tolerate a mess of any kind and went ballistic when the news reported stories about kids who broke the law.” She frowned. “And why he was so tough on me when my stupid choices came to roost at his door. I was never his favorite person.”

That, Hunter already knew. But he’d only heard things from Kent’s point of view. “Why?”

“Because I tried to talk Beth out of marrying him. And more than once, after he got drunk and threatened her, tried to talk her into leaving him. That’s why he looked for ways to discredit me in Beth’s eyes.”

Admittedly, life had dealt Brooke a pretty bad hand; hopefully, whatever she was about to tell him wouldn’t force him to lay down the card that would make her fold, here and now.

She ran a finger around the rim of her mug. “Wish I’d known he had such a rough childhood.”

“Why? It wasn’t any harder than yours and Beth’s. Different kind of hard, but no harder.”

Focusing on the spot behind him again, she winced.

Her actions and attitude told him she hadn’t yet fully absorbed the reality of her loss. He’d felt the same way after his dad died. Helping his mom make the grim plans and cope with financial concerns in addition to the shock of losing her mate had allowed Hunter to sideline his grief. If he hadn’t stepped up, any one of his brothers would have. But Deidre and Connor...they were the extent of Brooke’s family now. She couldn’t lean on a seventy-five-year-old or a toddler. And his presence wasn’t making things easier for her.

Hunter turned toward the door but her quiet words stopped him.

“Guess it’s true what they say.”

Two feet of tabletop—and fifteen years’ worth of bitter memories—separated them. He had to remind himself that Brooke wasn’t some untested teenager but a full-grown woman who’d survived disappointments and losses. She didn’t need him to protect her. So how did he explain his odd desire to do just that?

“‘Be careful what you ask for.’”

“What did you ask for?”

“Proof.”

Remembering the whole fingerprints explanation, Hunter nodded.

“Well, I got it, and then some, didn’t I?”

She seemed on the verge of tears. He could walk around to her side of the table, take her in his arms, and this time, he could take a little comfort while giving it.

It was a stupid, crazy, dangerous thought, and he squelched it by reminding himself how much she loathed him...and why. Listening to his heart instead of his head had led to his downfall more times than he cared to admit. This time, it could cost him in ways he couldn’t predict. Worse, it could cost Connor.

As if on cue, the baby’s voice crackled through the monitor.

Brooke was on her feet in an instant.

“Oh no. He’s up early....” Halfway to the hall, she stopped, leaned on the doorjamb and hid behind her hands.

And I have no idea what to tell him, he finished for her.

If Connor were already in his care, how and when would he deliver the news? It didn’t seem fair to let Brooke deal with it alone considering that in a few days, a week, maybe, he’d pull the rug out from under her.

“What would you say to seeing an expert,” he began, “before we break the news to Connor?”

When she didn’t disagree, he added, “Just so we’ll know the right way and the right time to tell the poor kid that...about...you know.”

She was silent, which made him wonder if she was gearing up to blast him for saying we.

“Yeah,” she said, “that’s not a bad idea.”

Relief sluiced over him. Why couldn’t she be this calm and rational all of the time?

Hunter decided he wouldn’t follow her to Connor’s room; soon enough he’d be with the boy pretty much 24/7.

She met his eyes, a vacant, disconnected stare that, for a blink in time, took him back to the convenience store. Again. Right now he’d give anything to be as far away from her as he could get. This up-close-and-personal stuff was downright unnerving.

She left the room without a word, heightening his uncertainty.

If he knew what was good for him, he’d step up his boxing skills...because something told him that once she saw that DVD, he was in for the fight of his life.

CHAPTER FOUR

DEIDRE FROWNED. “First chance I get, I’m sending Felix over here to do something about this lawn before your neighbors start complaining.” She shook her head. “That handyman of mine is an artist with hedge shears. I’ll bet he can do something with that boxwood hedge. It was Kent’s pride and joy. If he saw the mess it’s in, he’d roll over in his grave.” She clucked her tongue. “If he had one.”

There were so many things wrong with her grandmother’s statement that Brooke didn’t know where to begin. First, this wasn’t her neighborhood. Second, she’d tried starting the lawn mower during one of Connor’s afternoon naps, but her arms had been too short for the pull cord. And that crack about Kent’s grave! Brooke would blame it on advancing age...if Deidre hadn’t always been so proud of her bluntness. Like during last year’s Christmas service when Deidre spotted a sorority sister sitting with her new beau: “Do you think those two are having sex?” When heads turned to see who’d made the loud crude comment, Brooke said, “Gram! We’re in church!” And Deidre, being Deidre, blurted, “Oh, fiddlefarts. God invented sex!”