Jillian Hart - Reunited for the Holidays

“What kind of agreement?”

“About you and me. How we deal with each other.”

He swallowed painfully. “Right. Do you have any suggestions?”

“We do the only possible thing. Let’s leave this in the past where it belongs and go on from here.”

“If that’s what you want.” Traces of pain hid in his voice. “We’ve both been hurt enough.”

“Yes.” She clunked her walker forward and stepped purposefully. The arguments, the sleepless nights, the stress of being teenage parents with two sets of twins haunted her. She’d been shattered the night she’d asked Brian to leave. No way would she let him see that, so her chin went up with stubborn determination to hide her vulnerabilities.

“Glad we agree,” he said gruffly.

“We have to get along for the children’s sake.”

“The big question is how.”

“I have no idea.” Her reflection in the dark window looked back at her. She saw a thin woman, hollow cheeked and fragile looking. Not the same vibrant Belle Colby who’d fallen off her horse. The coma and injury had ravaged her, but she was determined to regain her strength...and reclaim her life. She caught sight of Brian struggling to his feet and realized that she wasn’t the only one ailing here. “We are quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“We always have been.” He shuffled toward her, fighting to stay tall and strong, but she could read the strain on his face, the tension along his carved jaw, even in the window’s reflection. “Carter told me how this all came about, how Violet met Maddie. How the kids came together again. One thing has been eating away at me. I can’t help wanting to protect my children. It can’t be safe to reunite them, can it?”

“I’ve been worried about that, too,” she said softly.

“What about—?”

“David Johnson, the man I testified against? Yes, he’s still in prison, at least as far as I know. I haven’t been well enough these past few days—”

“You just woke from a coma.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fear the worst. What if Johnson figures out where we are?”

“Exactly. He may be in jail, but he likely still has his contacts on the outside.”

“The kids don’t know about the danger. They don’t remember going into hiding. They don’t know why we moved from Forth Worth all those years ago, and I refuse to talk about it. That’s what Jack and I argued about right before my accident. He wanted to know about you.”

“It must have been hard not to tell him. You had to want to.”

“I did.” She appreciated that he understood. “It was too dangerous.”

“When I remarried, Maddie and Grayson were young enough not to remember. That made the past disappear.”

“Disappear?” She held herself steady, breathing as if in pain. “A mother never wants to be forgotten by her children.”

“Neither does a father.”

This pain they shared, a pain visible on his sculpted face. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The honest display of his feelings surprised her. They’d already been divorced when she’d unknowingly stumbled into a dangerous situation. Their marriage had fallen apart because she’d been convinced he hadn’t cared about her, at least not the way a husband should. Brian could be so unemotional, closed off, clinical in his relationships. To see him overcome like this, with the manly intake of breath, the gathering of his control as he straightened up, made her realize how much had changed. Emotions skittered across his face, no longer hidden to her.

“I never even considered we might be in this situation one day, with the twins reunited,” he confessed. “All this time not knowing if you were safe or if they would be all right. The horrific nightmares I had of David Johnson escaping prison and hunting down the kids and there being nothing I could do. No matter what, we have to keep them safe.”

“We will.” That had never been in doubt. “I need to get in touch with my handler, but I’ve been stuck here with no one I can confide in.”

“You have me.” A smile touched his lips, chiseled and lean. The years hadn’t changed that smile, masculine and bracketed by dimples. “That may not be any consolation, but I’ll make sure our children are protected.”

“We’ll do it together.” Gently, she reached out to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. An old habit, she realized too late. She respected her ex-husband and his love for their children, that was all. They were temporarily joining forces to safeguard their family, but when the dust settled, the old conflicts would still be between them.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” His emotions retreated, his eyes shuttered and he was closed off once again. His dark gaze gave nothing away. “You may have to trust me to handle the situation.”

“Together, you and I made the decision to separate the twins in the first place.” She winced, remembering the wrenching decision they’d been forced to make. “We’ll make what decisions we have to together. Remember we are no longer married. You can’t make decisions for me, Brian.”

“Not that I ever could.” A muscle jumped along his square jaw.

“No.” Was he remembering their late-night arguments, too? Times best forgotten, she thought, straightening her spine. “The doctors tell me I’m frail, but I don’t believe them. My memory is coming back, my speech is just fine, and before you know it, I’ll be walking on my own steam out the front doors of Ranchland Manor.”

“I have no doubt when it comes to you, Isabella.”

“I go by Belle now.” How was she going to deal with Brian on an extended basis? After all, they were bound to see a lot of each other since their children all wanted to reconnect as a family. “I hear what sounds like a herd of elephants in the hallway. Must be our kids.”

“Must be.” His gaze fastened on hers, betraying another hint of feeling. How had the years made him more handsome? His carved-granite face, high forehead, dark eyes and prominent cheekbones were flawless. He gave a half smile, as if he remembered their married years, raising two sets of twins together. Toddling boys playing in the small living room of the tiny house they’d rented. Childish voices rising in glee. “No! No! Mine! Mine! Boom!” as toys went flying and the boys’ laughter rang. The dear sounds of the baby girls awakening from their naps in the warm house decorated for Christmas.

Such good memories. Bright enough to outshine the bad.

“Mom! Dad.” All grown up, Violet bounded in, leading the group back from the cafeteria. “You two look cozy. Don’t you think?” she asked her sister.

“Absolutely.” Maddie’s grin shone triumphantly. “Looks like we came back too soon. Maybe we all should head to the cafeter—”

“Don’t you dare walk off.” Belle used her Mom voice. “I’m still in charge around here.”

“So you think.” Jack set a steaming cup of tea on the bedside table while everyone laughed.

“Hello? Hello?” A knock rapped on the open door and a nurse hustled in. “So glad to see y’all here, but visiting hours are over. You’ll be back bright and early tomorrow, I suppose?”

“Count on it.” Violet circled the end of the bed. “Mom, what did the doctor say?”

“Hmm, let me think. I can’t quite remember,” she hedged.

“Wasn’t it something like stay in bed? You are still recovering, Mom.” Maddie swooped in and caught Belle’s other elbow. “Is she always this much trouble, Violet?”

“Usually more.”

“Hey!” Belle argued good-naturedly as she let them help her to her feet. “I’m not an invalid. I can manage on my own.”

“This sounds very familiar.” Brian’s baritone lifted above the other conversations as Grayson pulled aside the bedcovers and Jack plumped her pillows. “I see some things haven’t changed.”