Chapter 10
When Cort’s phone buzzed, everyone waited expectantly.
He spoke only a few words, thanking Herman and telling him to continue to keep an eye out. “There’s only one road out of Bramble. It goes past the tavern, but Herman hasn’t seen her.” Putting the phone away, Cort faced Brogan with a speculative gaze. “That means she’s still somewhere in the area.”
“Is there a cheap place she might be staying? A motel or B and B?”
“Right outside of town, sure, but if she’s still in Bramble, there’s only the Inn.
Butler wouldn’t have given her a room without a reservation.
He owns the Inn, but he’s also the mayor and he’s a stickler about things like that.
The thing is, there are plenty of wooded areas and natural trails.
Bramble prides itself on staying small, with as few commercial buildings as possible.
There are even limits on housing. Doesn’t mean Ruthie couldn’t find a place to lie low—the woods or one of the parks, if you think she’s that determined. ”
“Honestly, I can’t say.” Brogan didn’t know her that well.
“She’s a hateful, unhappy woman and she indulges in too much alcohol.
From what Connie said, she’s into drugs, too.
Pills mostly, I think. But until I took Shayna, I hadn’t had contact with her since I was a kid, and that was only a couple of times. ”
Cort’s brows went up. “For a woman who doesn’t know you, she sure seems to hate you.”
No kidding. To throw rocks at me? What pissed Brogan off the most was that she could have hit Shayna, Andy, or Pixie. Of course, Ruth hadn’t concerned herself with that.
Is my father really ill?
He didn’t know, and he shouldn’t care. Brian had never showed even a hint of interest in him.
If the man had denied being his father, Brogan would have believed him.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t denied it. He’d just said it didn’t matter, that Brogan didn’t matter, and that he had no room in his life for an accident.
Pixie stroked his arm. “Miserable people hate everyone, themselves most of all.”
“I have a few more questions,” Marlow announced. “But they’re only for Pixie, so you boys can go on and get acquainted. We won’t be long.” She hooked her arm through Pixie’s and ushered her out of the room.
The second Pixie’s hand slipped away from his skin, Brogan missed her touch. There was something about her that made him feel more grounded, as if he wasn’t a bastard who had no place in the world.
While he watched the women head quietly to the living room, Cort said, “SEALs, huh?”
Brogan gave up his scrutiny of Pixie’s petite body, her slim legs, proud shoulders, and that long, fair hair, to turn back to Cort.
Though he only looked a few years older than Brogan, Cort’s assessing gaze made Brogan feel as if he was being dissected by a woman’s father.
“Joined up early and had planned to stay the course.” He rolled a shoulder.
“Shit during a deployment went sideways, I found out about Shayna, and here I am instead.”
“Let me guess. They call you Hightower? Everest?”
That got a reluctant half smile out of him. “Sequoia, actually.”
Cort nodded. “Makes sense. I like it.”
“How about you?”
“Earnest—because I was always serious or some dumb shit like that.” Cort glanced toward the living room. “That was before I met Marlow, of course.”
“Happier now, huh?”
“Hell of a lot more content.” Cort leaned back on the counter, crossed his arms, and said, “This is going to be a problem, you know.”
Damn. Yeah, he’d known that was coming; Cort was too protective not to see the danger in the situation. “I have no idea how Ruth knew I was here, but I plan to find out.”
“How? I doubt asking her will do the trick.”
“Connie’s friend Erin might know. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“The point is,” Cort said, “she does know, and now that she’s tracked you down, I don’t see her letting up anytime soon.”
All Brogan could do was nod. In the region around his heart, a vast emptiness opened up, a place that had only recently begun to overflow with new, gentler emotions. A lot of emotions that he hadn’t expected.
All thanks to Pixie.
Knowing he had no choice, Brogan said, “I can pack up and leave tonight if that’s what you want. If not, I’ll take off in the morning.”
Cort eyed him. “That’s the wrong move, and not what I was saying.”
Not outright, no, but the suggestion was there. “It’s necessary. Ruth will be like a tsunami coming through this quiet little town. She’ll leave destruction in her wake. I assume when I leave, she’ll follow.”
“What does she want?”
“Money. Or maybe permission to stay in the house that Connie left to me.” With a rough laugh, he said, “Possibly both. She and my father are in the house now. I haven’t made any moves to kick them out, but I guess she knows it’s coming.”
“You had other priorities.”
So many of them. “Connie’s friend Erin—a lawyer—is keeping track of everything for me.
She’ll handle the legal end of things when it comes to the house.
” A headache started rapping at his temples, maybe from the coiling tension in his neck muscles.
He rolled a shoulder, trying to loosen up, but it didn’t help.
“Good idea. After seeing Ruth firsthand, I’d say the less you deal with her, the better.”
But would kicking her out gain him any peace?
“The thing is, even if I signed the house over to them, I have a feeling Ruth would keep coming back.” It was almost funny that they had never wanted anything to do with him, yet now they saw him as financial aid, a quick way to gain a leg up.
“Money only goes so far, and it’s not like Connie left behind millions.
But to Ruth, anything I have should be hers instead.
” Because he was a bastard. Because Brian had fathered him.
If he’d died in Africa with his brothers, would Ruth have rejoiced? Would his father have?
Their reactions didn’t matter when compared to what would have happened to Shayna, so he blocked the questions from his thoughts.
“First it will be the house, then cash. And always, she’ll threaten to come after me for Shayna.”
Cort snorted. “Did you see Marlow with that baby?”
Hell yeah, he’d seen her. She’d looked at the baby with undiluted love. What the hell was that? What kind of person greeted such a messed-up situation with so much gentleness? With acceptance? He frowned at Cort. “Gotta admit, it confuses me.”
“Used to confuse me, too. I remember standing back, taking it in.” He shook his head. “Pixie showed up here with Andy, so sick she could barely stay on her feet—no money, no resources, no one to call for help.”
Brogan hated the image that formed in his mind. “She’s so small.”
“True, even more so then because she’d been ill awhile. I still don’t know how she made it here—maybe with sheer grit and a mother’s determination to keep her baby safe.”
Again, Brogan’s gaze was drawn to the women. Pixie looked healthy now. Vital, energetic, and so damn sweet …
“Marlow and Pixie are two of the strongest women you’ll ever meet. They’ve both overcome stuff that could have leveled them, yet there they are.” He nodded at the women. “Still beautiful, both inside and out.”
Yeah, Pixie was that, all right. Hearing Cort, seeing the women’s closeness, left Brogan feeling like an intruder. Like the fraud Ruth had accused him of being. “I should be going.”
“Like I said, that’s the wrong move. I agree, Ruth is going to dog your heels, and there’s no doubt it’ll get ugly.”
With every word, Brogan felt a little more lost. “Which is why I should go.” He couldn’t expect others to put up with the mayhem.
Cort shook his head. “It’s why you have to stay, but not in the lake house. You need to be with someone.”
Pride clawed up his spine, cinching the muscles in his neck and locking his jaw. Cort was tall, but at six five, Brogan topped him. Firm and irrefutable, he stated, “I can take care of myself.”
Judging by the smirk on Cort’s mouth, Brogan knew the other man was amused.
“Never doubted it, and in your shoes, I’d react the same way. Except that you’re forgetting something,” Cort pointed out.
Against his will, Brogan’s gaze darted to Pixie. He saw her tip up her water bottle for a drink just as Marlow leaned close and said something. Whatever it was, Pixie nearly spit out the water with a quick laugh. She covered her mouth and leaned into Marlow, the two women grinning conspiratorially.
“No, not her,” Cort said. “Though I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”
“I wouldn’t want that, either.”
“There are still times when Pixie—very unnecessarily—wants to prove her worth. Marlow and I do what we can to show her how proud we are, but after being used by Dylan, then having to come to Marlow for help, she suffered a blow to her dignity.”
Everyone around Pixie could see that she was a fantastic mother, a dedicated friend, a hard worker, and talented on top of it all. But the hurt remained as it always did and made self-respect difficult. He understood that.
Behind him, Cort spoke quietly. “I think in many ways, you and Pixie are the same.”
“How do you figure that?”
Cort studied him a moment. “You don’t want to accept help, either. It makes you think you’re slacking, when you’re not. Think of it like the military. There are few things you couldn’t do, but others are sometimes better qualified, or your time is better allocated on different tasks.”
Brogan shook his head, unwilling to mix his two worlds. “If you weren’t worried about me hurting Pixie—”
“I’m talking about that tiny baby, who’s now counting on you to shield her from ugliness.”
Ruth was definitely ugly. Not on the outside. In appearance, she was still an attractive older woman. Slim, her gaze sharp, her hair only a little frazzled. But on the inside? As far as Brogan could tell, she was as callous and cold as a tombstone. “You think I won’t protect Shayna?”
“I imagine you’d die for her, but dying isn’t always an option, is it?”