Connections: Callum & Brynn (Good Hope: The Next Generation #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“I know what I’m going to wish for.”

“Don’t tell us, or it won’t come true.”

“It won’t come true anyway.”

“Then don’t wish.”

Brynn Chapin didn’t make it a practice to listen in on private conversations. But the Good Hope town square on a warm and sunny day in early June didn’t afford anyone much privacy.

She was here first, Brynn reminded herself, sitting on a bench near the bronze statue of the three women rising high in the fountain’s center.

As she’d grown up in Good Hope, Brynn had personally known each of these town matriarchs: Gladys Bertholf, Katherine Spencer and Ruby Rakes. Now they were gone.

Gone, but not forgotten, thanks in no small part to the life-size bronze statue of the three life-long friends, commissioned by Gladys in her will and erected shortly after the death of the last of the women five years ago.

The mystique that had quickly developed said that if you stood before the statue and tossed a coin in the fountain while making a wish, it would come true .

Brynn’s lips curved. She agreed with Ava Kendrick that any wish that did come true wouldn’t happen because a coin was tossed into a fountain. However, she noticed that Ava flung a coin into the water after briefly closing her eyes.

The two girls at the fountain with Ava were also well known to Brynn—Sarah Rose Cross and Olivia Vaughn. The three were around the same age as Brynn’s brothers, Carter and Graham, and all were in high school except Sarah Rose, who had just finished her first year at college and was home for the summer.

It made Brynn feel old, thinking how long it had been since she’d graduated from Good Hope High and left for college in California. Oh, she’d been back many, many times since for summers and holidays and special occasions.

Now, she was home for good. She had a career, a house and family and friends nearby whom she adored. None of that seemed to matter to those who had their own agenda for her life. The first question out of their mouths always seemed to be if she was married or, when she said no, if she was dating anyone.

Again, a no.

Finishing her schooling and getting licensed as a clinical psychologist at twenty-nine had been her primary focus for years. Sure, she’d dated and even had a few relationships that had lasted three to four months each, but in the end, the men had wanted more attention than she could give them, and that had been that.

Sometimes Brynn wondered if she was capable of falling in love. The real, last-forever kind of love that her parents had, the kind her aunts and uncles had. Even the kind her grandmother had with her second husband years after the first had passed away.

Her phone pinged with a text from her friend Lia Ehlers. The meme Lia forwarded made her smile. Brynn and her childhood buddy shared the same sense of humor. They’d become friends in grade school and had been besties ever since. Though they were a thousand miles away, with Lia in New York City, their bond remained as strong as ever.

She’d barely responded to Lia’s text with an emoji when another text came through, this one from Darcy Bowens, a fellow member of the NeighborGood Crew, wanting to know if she’d signed up to volunteer at the high school that evening.

Brynn actively participated in the Crew, whose sole purpose was securing volunteers for community events. She recalled a call going out for ushers and ticket takers for a dance recital in the high school’s auditorium.

I won’t be there, but have lots of fun, Brynn texted back. I can’t wait to hear all about it!!!

She idly wondered how different today’s dance recitals were from the ones she’d participated in as a child. Those programs, with their elaborate costumes and carefully choreographed steps, now seemed eons ago.

Brynn was ready to pocket her phone when a notification came through that Lorraine Kendrick had liked the photo she’d posted that morning.

Smiling, Brynn went to her friend’s Instagram page. Lolo had spent many summers in Good Hope growing up, and a friendship had been forged. After college, Lolo had settled in Kentucky, where her parents lived, and gone to work for her father’s company as an architect.

Lolo had an artist’s eye, and Brynn loved seeing the interiors of the commercial buildings she designed, as well as the personal sketches she posted occasionally.

Disappointed to find nothing new on the page, Brynn was ready to leave the app when she decided to check out Callum Brody’s page. The man might be terrible about texting, but he always had great posts about the amazing locations he visited and fantastic adventures that hovered on the edge of dangerous.

On the surface, she and Callum appeared very different, so Brynn understood why people were surprised they were still friends. In the eyes of the Good Hope world, they were opposites.

Brynn, the good girl and dutiful daughter. Callum, the bad boy. What most didn’t realize was that not only did they share common values, they encouraged and supported each other’s choices.

Callum was one of the few people who hadn’t tried to dissuade her from moving back home.

He thought she should do whatever made her happy—that’s how he lived his life. Many didn’t realize that just because he chose not to live in Good Hope didn’t mean he didn’t still love his hometown.

Everyone, including his parents, gave him a hard time over his life choices. But Brynn knew beneath all that bluster and devil-may-care exterior beat the heart of a good man and stellar friend.

Brynn noticed with surprise that his most recent post was over a week old. He also hadn’t returned her last text. That was odd, but she decided he was probably out jumping off a cliff somewhere, with pics soon to follow.

She couldn’t help but smile. For Callum, life was one big adventure.

When the girls strolled off, laughing and talking, Brynn pocketed her phone and stepped to the fountain. She studied the faces of the three women before she dropped her gaze to the water. She could almost hear Gladys urging her to toss in a coin and make a wish, asking her what she had to lose.

Light danced across the clear water, and the quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies at the bottom were clearly visible.

Brynn reminded herself that it was for a good cause. Every three days, volunteers cleaned the fountain. All the money retrieved went into the Giving Tree fund, a neighbor-helping-neighbor resource, though not considered a charity.

What did she have to lose?

Brynn fumbled in her bag and pulled out a quarter .

After only a moment’s hesitation, she closed her eyes and, wishing for a little bit of Callum’s adventurous spirit, flung the coin into the fountain.

Brynn settled back against the sofa, her wineglass empty and the bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her now reduced to a few unpopped kernels.

She finished the third episode of the show she was binging and glanced at the clock. Midnight. One more episode? Or was it time to call it a night and go to bed?

Flicking off the television, Brynn stood and stretched. She knew herself well enough to feel confident that if she stayed up any later, she’d waste most of the morning sleeping.

As she’d removed her makeup and pulled on her sleep shorts and tee before the episode-binging had begun, she just needed to brush her teeth before sinking into the luxurious mattress she’d purchased when she’d moved back to Good Hope last year.

The wineglass and popcorn bowl had barely reached the dishwasher when her phone rang. Picking it up, she glanced at the screen.

Callum.

Her heart skipped a beat, then worry furrowed her brow. He never called this late.

“Hey, you.” Tightening her hold on the phone, Brynn leaned back against the countertop. “What’s up?”

“I’m in trouble, Brynn.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I need your help.”

Brynn straightened, instantly on alert. “Of course I’ll help. What happened? Where are you?”

Years of training had her voice rock-steady with no hint of alarm.

“Open your door, and I’ll show you. ”

Brynn was at the front door before he finished speaking.

Callum stood on the porch, holding a sleeping boy in his arms. He stepped inside and waited until Brynn closed the door to say anything.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He kept his voice soft and low as if not wanting to awaken the sleeping child.

When she responded, Brynn also spoke in a hushed whisper. “You’re not interrupting. You’re my friend. You know you’re welcome anytime.”

She studied the boy in his arms. Five, maybe six, with the same mop of red hair and dusting of freckles as Callum. She gestured with one hand. “Who is this little guy?”

“Is there somewhere I could put him down while we talk?”

“Of course.”

They walked in silence to her spare bedroom, where Brynn pulled back the light bedspread and top sheet.

Callum gently laid the sleeping boy onto the bed. She had the feeling he’d have let the child sleep with his shoes on if she hadn’t crouched down to remove one sneaker. Following her lead, he removed the other.

After setting the shoes aside, they slipped out of the room. Brynn opened the door just a crack so they could hear if the child stirred.

“Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?” Brynn offered when they reached the living room.

“I’m fine.” For the first time since he’d stepped inside, Brynn noticed his pallor and the fatigue edging his eyes.

“You don’t look fine.” Brynn’s heart swelled. Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around Callum, holding him close. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave in to the closeness, resting his head against hers for several long seconds.

Comfort given. Comfort received.

After several long seconds, he stepped back. “Thanks for that and for letting me intrude. ”

“We’re friends.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Friends help each other.” Brynn gestured to the sofa and tried to hide her worry. “Why don’t you sit? You look ready to collapse.”

“That good, eh?” He flashed a smile, and for a second, Brynn saw the devil-may-care boy of her youth beneath the pallor.

When he sat on one end of the couch, she took a seat and angled her body toward him.

“I wondered why I hadn’t heard from you.” Brynn kept her tone light. “Now I can see you were busy. You have a son.”

There was no question in her mind that the boy was his. She’d known Callum since childhood and had pictures of her with him and his twin brother, Connor, when they’d all been about this child’s age. This boy was the spitting image of his dad.

Callum nodded and leaned back against the cushion as if finally able to relax. “I thought I’d have kids eventually, but not this way. Not now.”

His half laugh held no humor.

“What’s his name?”

Callum blinked.

“Your son,” Brynn pressed. “What’s his name?”

“Parker. He just turned six.”

“He reminds me of you and Connor at that age.”

“I just found out he existed.” Without warning, Callum pushed to his feet and began to pace.

Not saying a word, Brynn stood and moved to a side table. She opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Pouring two fingers into a faceted glass, she strode to Callum and pushed the glass into his hand. “Drink this first, then you can tell me.”

She wasn’t sure what to think when he downed the contents in one gulp.

Then he smiled. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“More than the hug?” Brynn kept her tone light and teasing.

He grinned back at her. “It’s a close second. ”

Returning to the sofa, Brynn patted a spot near her. “Sit and tell me.”

He dropped down beside her, raking a hand through his dark red hair. “It seems like a dream. Actually, more like a nightmare.”

Brynn only inclined her head to show she was listening. Though dozens of questions pushed against her tongue, she wouldn’t rush him. He would tell her in his own time. In his own way.

After several long seconds, he expelled a breath. “I’d taken a week off work to go rock-climbing in New Hampshire. When I returned to the office, I had a message from Rebekah’s mother.”

His mouth lifted in a wry smile as if he’d seen the confusion on her face. “I probably should start at the beginning.”

“That’s usually best.” Brynn kept her tone light.

“Rebekah and I met at a wing-gliding event. She was fearless.” Callum’s lips curved as if the memory was a pleasant one. “We were into the same things—climbing, mountain biking, kiteboarding. She was available. I was available. While we were at an event in Texas, we shared a room. When the event ended, we went our separate ways.”

Casual sex had never been Brynn’s thing. She wanted to know and like the guy and develop a relationship before letting someone get that close.

Apparently, that hadn’t mattered to Callum and Rebekah.

“You never spoke with her or saw her after that?” Brynn carefully kept any judgment from her tone.

Callum shook his head. “We enjoyed our week together, but it was never intended to be anything more, and our paths never crossed again.”

Brynn wished now that she’d poured herself a whiskey. It would have given her something to do with hands that wanted to flutter.

She’d left the windows open. A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains and brought the scent of evergreen into the room. The gleam from the ornate streetlight out front offered a golden glow.

A dog barking in the distance was the only sound for several heartbeats.

Brynn cleared her throat. “Do you know why she didn’t contact you when she first discovered she was pregnant?”

“No.” As if realizing how abrupt it sounded, he shot her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s just puzzling. Rebekah knew where I work. She had my cell number. I have no idea why she shut me out.”

Brynn nodded but didn’t comment. His story to tell, she reminded herself, and he was just getting started.

“When the baby was around two, Rebekah apparently decided she couldn’t do the parenting thing anymore and left Parker with her parents. Or, actually, with her mom, Linette. Rebekah and her dad didn’t get along. He made it crystal clear to his wife that Parker wasn’t his responsibility.”

Brynn couldn’t help thinking of her own father. David Chapin would move heaven and earth to help her if she needed him. Of course, she couldn’t imagine ever dropping off her child and walking away. “Did her mom know you were the father?”

Callum’s gaze dropped to the empty glass he still held. His expression turned puzzled, as if he couldn’t recall where it had come from. He set the glass down.

“Yes, yes, she did. Rebekah put my name on the birth certificate and told Linette about me, including where I worked and how we met but made her mother promise not to tell her father.”

“Why didn’t her mom reach out to you back then?”

He rubbed his hands across his face as if trying to scrub away the fatigue. “Back when?”

“When Rebekah,” the name felt awkward on Brynn’s tongue, “first left Parker with her. ”

“She assumed Rebekah would be back. As time passed, Linette remained silent because she feared losing Parker. She knew her husband would kick the boy out of the house if a dad were in the picture.”

Brynn had dealt with numerous dysfunctional families, so Callum’s scenario was nothing she hadn’t heard a hundred times before. “What made her contact you now?”

“She’s sick. Dying.” A bleak look filled Callum’s eyes. “Linette seems like a nice woman who genuinely loves her grandson.” He paused, and his eyes took on a distant glow. “She told me I had to take him. Rebekah, well, they have no idea where she is and Linette was getting too sick to care for Parker. Her husband was threatening to turn him over to the state.”

When he didn’t speak for several long seconds, Brynn prompted, “You went to their house and picked him up?”

Her comment appeared to pull him from his reverie. He shook his head. “I met her and Parker at a café near their home. Linette didn’t want her husband to know I was in the picture. A pinball machine kept Parker occupied while Linette and I talked.”

Though puzzled, Brynn kept her tone conversational. “Why didn’t she want her husband to know about you?”

“He is, according to Linette, a difficult man. She said she didn’t want him to start anything with me.” Callum expelled a breath. “She didn’t want him to sue me for money. She said this had to stay between us, and I had to take Parker right then.”

“Right then,” Brynn repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yep. I loaded him and his stuff into the Jeep and watched her drive off while he cried.” Callum closed his eyes for a second, then appeared to steady. “I wouldn’t let my son go into foster care. I called my boss and told him I had a family emergency and needed time off. I packed a few essentials, and we left for Good Hope that afternoon. I drove eight hours yesterday and fourteen today. ”

For a moment, Brynn could only stare. No wonder he was exhausted. “You did the right thing bringing him here.”

“I came home because I knew you would know what to do.” His blue eyes met hers. “You always know what to do.”