By late morning she finally admitted something to herself-she still wanted him. Who in their right mind wouldn’t?
The day had turned really warm, and Brody had been hard at work. He’d lost his shirt at one point, and his tanned and corded muscles rippled as he handled the chain saw. His hard abs also glistened enticingly, slick with sweat, making Hannah almost go cross-eyed with desire. His jeans hung low on his lean hips, drawing attention to the vee of hair that arrowed down his chest and disappeared beneath the waistband. Hannah licked her lips more than once and drank way too many glasses of water trying to ease the slow fire burning inside of her every time she saw him.
As if he could read her mind, he kept glancing over at her and giving her lazy smiles, the kind that made her panties wringing wet. Hungry but settling for food, she made him a plate of edibles and carried it out to him. Partially burned biscuits, canned tuna tossed with celery, onion, and green pepper, and homemade ice tea sans ice. Not exactly a feast, especially since the tuna salad could have really used mayonnaise, but a lack of creamy flavor always won over food poisoning. They had a small fridge that ran on propane, but their biggest problem with things like mayo was they’d all gone past their “best by” dates.
Brody stopped the rumbling saw and, grabbing his discarded shirt, mopped at his brow and chest. Hannah stumbled with the tray of food and would have fallen had he not grabbed her arms to steady her. The instant heat made her knees sag. With a knowing grin that encouraged her tummy to perform gymnastics, he helped her sit on a stump.
She hated how he still seemed to read her like an open book. How am Isupposed to hide the effect he has on me? And a better question, did she want to?
They didn’t talk while they ate and when Beth came bouncing over in her still too short denims, Hannah both resented and welcomed her sister’s cheerful intrusion.
“It is so nice to have a man around here,” gushed Beth, batting her lashes at him. “We appreciate your hard work ever so much.”
Hannah wanted to roll her eyes at Beth’s poorly disguised attempt at flattery.
“Just doing my part,” said Brody. “Listen, do you mind if I go to town this afternoon. I’m going to need more oil to keep this baby running, and I thought I’d see what other supplies I could grab.”
“Want me to go with you?” The words came out of Hannah’s mouth and surprised her.
“No, it’s okay. I thought I’d swing by my parents’ place while I was there too.”
Hannah froze. “You haven’t been there yet?”
“No. I came here first.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hannah blurted.
Brody frowned at her as did Beth. “Why not?”
But Hannah couldn’t tell him in front of Beth. “Listen, I’ll go with you. I need to pick up some stuff. Okay?”
Jumping up and grabbing the tray, she quick walked back to the house in an attempt to forestall questions. She should have known it wouldn’t work.
Brody had put it off long enough, and Hannah’s odd reaction puzzled him while lighting a curious fire. What secrets lay hidden at his parents’ house? What did she fear he’d see?
The time had come to pay a visit to place he’d called home for over twenty years. And he intended to do it alone.
It had been obvious that Hannah wanted to come with him, but he couldn’t be sure what his reaction would be. He had no intention of letting her see him as less than strong, especially knowing there was a chance he’d break down. The guilt he felt over abandoning his parents-not just the first time he'd left, but when his dad had called and told him his mother had caught the sickness-still presided. Brody had fought an inner battle, wanting to fly to his mother’s side but at the same time too scared to watch her die. He’d had a long time to regret that choice. It didn’t matter she’d died faster than he could have made it back. The fact remained; he never should have left and hurt the two women he loved most: his mother and Hannah. A hurt he compounded by never bothering to come back even for a visit.
Downshifting the gears on his bike, he coasted up the weed-choked driveway to the battered green vinyl house. Brody’s gut clenched as he braced himself for the memories already assailing him, like the one of his dad playing catch with him on the front lawn and the crooked mailbox he’d crashed into while learning to ride his bike, a feat accomplished with both his father and mother cheering him on. His steps echoed loudly on the wooden risers that led up to the wide porch where his mother had served lemonade to him and a more carefree Hannah. God, it seems like a lifetime ago.
The screen door sagged and creaked when he pulled it open. He expected the thick, green door to be locked, but the knob turned in his hand. Sucking in a deep breath, he took a step into the musty interior and fell into the past.
And when he found out why Hannah had tried to stop him, guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave, sinking him to his knees.
I’m so sorry, Mom and Dad.
Chapter Five
Hannah heard the sound of his bike leaving and dropped the dishes she was rinsing to run outside in time to watch his bike as it got smaller and smaller in the distance. She knew where he’d gone, and she cursed a blue streak as she bolted for her pink mountain bike. Even as she pedaled she knew she’d be too late but, knowing what he faced, she pumped faster.
Out of breath, she rode right up onto the lawn of his old house and hopped off the bike, letting it fall to the ground as she raced up the steps and through the open front door.
“Brody!” She called his name in the dead silence. He didn’t answer. She knew where she’d find him and though her heart stuttered, she whipped up the stairs to his parents’ bedroom and stopped in the doorway. She’d found him and the secret she’d tried to hide from him.
Brody knelt on the floor, head bowed and shoulders heaving. Hannah approached quietly and, dropping to her knees behind him, hugged him tight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered hoarsely.
Guilt twinged her. “I didn’t know how.”
His laughter sounded bitter. “I guess it’s not the easiest thing to say, ’Hey Brody, your dad killed himself.’” Hannah winced at his blunt words. “It’s stupid, it never occurred to me he might be immune too. How long after my mom died did he off himself?”
Hannah swallowed at the misery and intense guilt she heard in his voice. “I don’t know. I ran into him the first time I came to town for supplies after everyone was gone. He didn’t make much sense.” Brody shook in her embrace. “I wanted him to come stay with us but when I went to go get him the next day, this is what I found.” With a hole in his head and blood staining the sheets. She didn’t tell him how she’d screamed and cried when she’d seen Brody’s father lying beside his wife, a peaceful look finally crowning his face even amid all the horror.
“I never knew. I would have come back sooner if I’d known.”
Hannah’s heart ached for him. Would the outcome been different if Brody had returned? Maybe, but then again Harold had been married to his sweet Marie for thirty-five years and known her for almost fifty. His heart had died when she had. The idea of a love that strong both appealed to and frightened Hannah. Especially since she’d thought of death a few times when Brody had left her.
“I’m sorry, Brody. I should have warned you, but I didn’t know how.”
He turned in her arms and wrapped himself around her, his body shuddering as he grieved. She hugged him tightly, her own eyes leaking as she shared his pain.
Together they knelt, both finally crying for a past they could not change. Hannah’s barriers fell at his obvious pain, his vulnerability, a side of him she’d never expected to see.