All for Hope Page 6

  Hope gathered some of Michelle’s bags onto her shoulder and took the baby in her carrier out of the car, following Bren to the room. He watched her settle her things onto one of the beds, then take the baby from the carrier and juggle her on her shoulder. He didn’t wait for her to turn to him. He unlocked the door that joined that room to the next room, and exited through the motel door.

  When he made his way back in from the adjoining room, he found Hope glaring at him with a stunned expression.

  “What the hell’s going on?” she demanded.

  “I need some space. You need some space.” He took a bag of chips and a candy bar from their grocery sack and headed back to the other room with his tote in hand. “Just get some sleep.”

  He closed the door between their rooms but held tight to the knob. His mind screamed at him to open the door again and go back to her. He wanted to break their agreement, go back into that room and kiss her breathless. He wanted to make love to her, the baby be damned.

  “Ah, Bren,” he told himself. “What the hell is right? What the hell?” He released the door and looked at his empty hand. Now that he’d let go of the door, his fingers itched to hold something else. He wanted a beer. He wanted something stronger. His mouth went dry as he felt that old familiar thirst for the liquor slither across his tongue.

  Just as he started for the bathroom, his cell phone rang. Without looking at the number, he answered with a curt “Yeah.”

  “Brennan Rawley?” spoke an unfamiliar voice.

  Brennan tensed, his fingers clenching around the phone. “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “Officer Robert Guillory, Port La Pena PD. I wonder if you have a moment to speak with me.”

  Damn, he cursed in his mind. He should have been more careful about answering a call without knowing the number. Jim had warned him just the day before about Officer Guillory, and he knew the guy had talked to him recently about Hope.

  “Sure. How can I help you?”

  “I understand you are friends with Hope Sheffield. You’re familiar with what’s happened?”

  “Yeah, I know. My friend Jim has kept me informed.”

  “Yes, I presumed he would tell you I’d asked for your contact information. When was the last time you spoke with Ms. Sheffield?”

  Bren paused a moment, considering how long it had been since he’d seen or heard from Hope before he ran into her at that service station.

  “I’d say it’s been about three years. I can’t remember exactly.”

  “Your friend Jim said you and Hope were pretty close,” the officer pressed.

  Brennan laughed. “Well, then, I’m sure he told you that Hope and I broke up a long time ago. We haven’t kept contact.”

  He thought about that statement. It was true; until he’d run into her a few weeks ago, he hadn’t spoken to or seen Hope. But she was always there, always a part of him. Jim was their conduit. He mentioned her from time to time, allowed Bren to inquire and ease his conscience that she was well. These past few weeks only proved how their bond never truly had been broken.

  “Jim says you’ve taken a sabbatical of sort from your business. Where are you, Mr. Rawley?”

  You prick, Bren thought. I’m not gonna let you trip me up.

  “I’m the king of bad relationships, Officer. I thought I had the gal I was gonna ask to marry me, but when I realized I was wrong, I decided I needed a break. I’m just on a long breather. A road trip.”

  “Hmmhmm. I see. I may have some more questions for you.”

  “Jim told me Hope’s dead, Officer. I’m not sure what else I can do to help you, but you’ve got my number now. I’ll be back in town eventually, but if you need me sooner. . .” He paused for effect.

  “I’ll be in touch, Mr. Rawley.”

  Bren tapped the end button on his phone and slipped his phone into his pocket. He really wanted a drink now.

  Hope stood a moment, staring at the closed door between the rooms, unable to move. Michelle began to whimper. Recognized the beginnings of a full-fledged cry on the way, Hope bounced her a bit while she searched through the diaper bag for the baby’s supper. She could hear the shower running in the other room, and she hoped Bren was calming down.

  A few moments later, she microwaved some macaroni and cheese for herself, spooning some onto a plate for Michelle to enjoy. The little one was really getting the hang of grabbing the pasta in her chubby fingers and bringing it to her mouth.

  Hope couldn’t keep her eyes from glancing at the door four of every five seconds. She kept telling herself that any moment he would come back through. Her anticipation was dashed when she thought she heard him exiting the room through the outside door. After a few moments of silence, she swung Michelle onto her hip and opened the door to his room. He wasn’t there.

  The tears that had been threatening all day made their way to the surface and streamed down her cheeks. She sobbed, quickly sucking in a breath to keep herself from falling apart completely. Michelle slapped at one of her wet cheeks with her messy fingers, giggling without a care in the world.

  That night Hope tried for sleep but gave up after only getting about an hour and a half of rest. She pulled out all the money she had remaining and began counting. Set before her was $4,050 plus some change. She bit her lip in thought. Unfolding a highway map she’d grabbed at the last gas station, she took stock of their location. She needed to find a good, quiet place to settle. The colors and lines blurred and melded before her eyes, and she felt an overwhelming despair come over her.

  “You worry too much.” Brennan’s voice came from the doorway behind her. He was standing at the threshold between their rooms, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  “Where’ve you been?” She asked the question in a soft tone. She didn’t want any accusation to eek out of her voice.

  “A meeting.”

  She frowned, tilting her head as she looked at him.

  “An AA meeting, Hope.” He answered her unasked question as he made his way into the room and sat upon the bed opposite her.

  “I—” Hesitating, she swallowed. “I didn’t know you went to meetings.”

  He looked at the map on the bed, trailing a finger from their current location along one black squiggly mark.

  “Jim never told me.” She spoke more to herself than to him.

  His blue eyes caught hers in a locking stare from which she couldn’t break free. She held her breath, afraid of something but not sure what.

  “He’s our friend. He’s my business partner. Do you think I didn’t know you kept up with me through him?”

  She nodded and smiled. “You asked him not to tell me.”

  Shaking his head, Bren returned the smile. “I wouldn’t have asked him that. I knew he’d feel the need to tell you, so I never told him. I never told anyone. I’ve been attending meetings for two years now. Not quite that long sober, though.”

  “How long exactly?”

  “Five hundred eighty days.”

  She felt like a fool. A heel. A holier than thou bitch. He wasn’t the same Bren.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Our pasts follow us, Hope. It’ll always shadow me. I can live with it.”

  Silence filled the room a few moments, and they both clung to the absence of sound as they tried to gather their thoughts. Finally Hope looked up at him, smiled, then started to collect and stack the money back into a single pile. “I thought you’d left.”

  “I’m back.”

  “Are you leaving? For good, I mean.”

  He took the map before she could grab it and tried to fold it up, but none of the creases matched correctly. “I hate these damn things,” he muttered, forcing it closed and tossing it aside so that he could inch closer to her.

  “I’m not leaving you, Hope. Tomorrow we’ll go back out on the road— together. I told you I’d get you settled, safe. I meant it.”

  She’d been holding her breath without realizing it. The air whooshed from her lips and she smiled, ch
uckling a bit, a giddy sound. “Okay.”

  “Eh, eh.” He made the warning sound, touching her chin and making her look at him again. “It’s not that simple. You have one week. Either you find a place to settle in seven days, or I’m taking you to New Durma. Together, either way. We find you a place to live. Got it?”

  She was so relieved to know he wasn’t going away that she instantly agreed, nodding her head and whispering yes.

  “Okay. Now, I’m going back into my room tonight. My emotions are all over the place, and I made a deal with you that I wouldn’t breach our friendship.”

  She stayed rooted in place and looked at the wall as he stood. When he passed her, he walked so fast that she felt the movement of air brush her hair against her cheek. The room felt charged, and it was all she could do not to rush to him and beg him to stay.

  Still, she knew he wasn’t the only one with emotions all over the place, so she held herself completely still until she heard the door between their rooms close. Then she collapsed to the bed on her back, arms spread out on both sides, staring at the ceiling.

  The next morning, Bren made his way into Hope’s room, his arms laden with goodies from the motel’s free breakfast bar. Careful not to spill the two coffees, he slid a plate of fruit and bagels onto the room desk, and then glanced over his shoulder to smile at Hope as she stretched in the bed. She returned the smile.

  “Morning. Sleep okay?”

  She nodded, slid her feet from between the covers and stood with a long sigh. He held out one of the cups of coffee to her, and she reached out, all too aware of her fingers brushing his in the process. The memory of a dream she’d been having just before he came into the room inked its way into her mind. She felt a heat blaze into her cheeks and turned away from him with a shudder.

  Dreams of Bren weren’t unusual for her. In fact, over the years it was more common than not for her to dream of him several times in a month. It was inevitable that each time she spoke to Jim about him, she’d have a dream just a few days later. They were usually the same in theme: the two of them in an embrace, just beginning to get intimate when someone would walk in or something would happen to interrupt. The story of their relationships really. They just never could get it right.

  Many moments passed with no words, but both of them were very aware of the other’s presence in the room. She sipped her coffee and paced to the window, peeking outside. The hot liquid was perfect, with one sweetener and four spoons of creamer.

  “You’ve paid attention.” She finally spoke, settling on the coffee as a safe topic. “You got the flavoring just right.”

  Brennan tilted his head at her, tipping his cup in a mock toast, then sat down on the bed where Michelle was still asleep. He brushed his free hand across her little head, barely touching her so as not to wake her.

  Hope smiled. “I’m glad she’s started to sleep a little later. I get to wake up before I have to actually wake up.”

  Settling into the chair at the little hotel desk, she tore a piece from one of the bagels and popped it into her mouth.

  “Were you and Mark—close?”

  She tried to swallow the pastry without chewing completely, and it got caught in her throat. It took another sip of coffee to clear her airway so she could draw enough breath to speak again.

  “Very,” she breathed, staring off into nothing as her thoughts turned to her friend.

  “Do you love him?”

  Hope nodded. “Mmhm.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  She turned her head and looked at him, her expression one of deep scrutiny.

  He had turned completely in her direction, leaning back on one hand, and the way that he was peering at her made her feel naked.

  She felt a chill roll across her arms, and she crossed them to hug herself tight.

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know really. I probably was, but things are so complicated where our friendship is concerned. When we worked together, there was always a sense of closeness between us. Then something very— something happened to me, and he stuck by me through it all. He didn't like some of the decisions I made, but he never turned me away. I had never had a friend like that.”

  She had the immediate urge to take back the words when she realized they disparaged Brennan’s friendship, but the look on his face said he hadn’t taken offense. He was still staring intently, his eyes urging her to continue.

  “As more and more time passed, and things slowly started to look up for me, I had time to realize that my feelings for Mark were much deeper than before. We talked openly about our attraction for each other and about the way we felt, but we always made it very clear that nothing could ever come out of it. He’s a married man, Brennan. And neither of us is willing to sacrifice the people who depend on us to satisfy—” She broke off and looked down at the floor.

  “His wife and I are friends, too. Cindy is a good woman, and in a way, I love the entire family, Mark, Cindy, the kids. I guess I'm envious of all they have. Mark told me he loved me the night I left. I don’t think we’d ever said it to each other before.”

  Her mind embraced the memories and thoughts of her friend, and she realized how much she missed him. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but eventually she turned to Brennan and smiled.

  “Did I answer your question?”

  “What was it that happened to you?” he asked.

  Hope knew what he meant and got up and went to the window again. “I don't want to talk about that.”

  Brennan stood and approached her, putting his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “I want to hold you, Hope,” he whispered against her ear.

  She felt a tremor ripple down her spine, and then her legs felt weak. She fell back against him as his lips nibbled in soft touches at her neck. When his kisses found the corner of her lips, she wanted to turn to him but couldn’t. She wanted to fight the urge to fall into him and lose herself. Bren gave her no choice; he shifted his own body so that he faced her.

  His hands combed into the hair at the nape of her neck, and he pushed her against the wall with his body. Hope's eyes opened wide, a look of wonder and uncertainty on her face. She shivered when his finger touched her forehead, then traced its way down to make a path around her lips.

  She needed to stop him. Her mind screamed any number of reasons why they shouldn’t do this. This was wrong for them; things just never worked out when they traveled this road. The timing was bad; they had enough to worry about without complicating things. “I have coffee breath.”

  Of all her excuses, that was perhaps the lamest. She wanted to sink into the floor in mortification.

  Brennan only grinned wryly. Just as he leaned down to kiss her, little Michelle released a high-pitched cry.

  Hope reacted quickly, bumping heads with Brennan. She groaned and touched her head, then crawled up to take the baby into her arms. As she changed the child's diaper, she felt Brennan's eyes on her, burning her.

  When she stood to heat a bottle, he took over the chore for her, motioning for her to sit down but not saying a word.

  “Thank you,” she murmured and took the bottle from his hands.

  Brennan watched Hope as she fed Michelle, talking to the little one in soft tones as she held her in her arms. An image came to him of her sitting just like that and feeding his son at her breast. Their son.

  The direction of his thoughts weren’t nearly as shocking as it probably should have been to him. Their situation was so imperfect, it was almost funny, but he felt comfortable traveling the roads with Hope and that little babe. The thought of ending it, of leaving and going home was almost as upsetting as the idea of Hope getting caught by the authorities.

  He shouldn’t have pushed her, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself once the impulse took over. It wasn’t just that he’d wanted to touch her, to be with her all of these days they’d been together. It wasn’t just the affection and attraction he’d always had for her.

  No, it was something deeper wi
thin him and that something began gnawing away at his insides when he heard her talk about Mark Terrance. He didn’t want thoughts of any other man to linger in her mind. He had to evict them the only way he knew how.

  “You said earlier you were glad she was sleeping later, but she’s always seemed to sleep well,” Bren said, searching for a safe subject.

  “Yeah, she really does,” Hope admitted. “She always has. The night Justine and I brought her home, she slept the night through. I think we checked every five minutes to be sure she was still breathing. You do well with kids.”

  “Well, I’m around Jim’s a lot. It’s made me appreciate family again.”

  Propping Michelle against some pillows with her bottle, Hope wrapped a rubber band around her hair, then turned to look at him with a teasing roll of her eyes.

  “Bren the family man, huh?”

  Brennan placed his hand to his heart. “You doubt me?”

  She waved her hand at him as she made her way into the bathroom. When she emerged a few moments later, she saw Brennan on hands and knees approaching Michelle in the bed.

  “Well, hello there, sweet thing,” he cooed in a goofy voice. “Good morning!”

  He ignored her little chuckle as she watched him swing the baby high into the air and brought her down onto his chest. Hope laughed full-out when she saw the little puddle of drool mixed with a touch of formula on his chest, and she threw him a rag from the bathroom.

  When Hope passed by the bed to get her bag, he took her arm to stop her.

  “Are all baby girls this beautiful?”

  She grinned but pulled from him. “All babies are beautiful, but—Michelle is more beautiful than most. You're a precious angel, aren't you?” She leaned to plant a kiss on the smiling little face.

  He wrapped his hand around her upper thigh this time to stop her from passing away from him. “You're precious, too, Hope.” he told her in a soft murmur.

  She avoided his eyes and lifted the baby from his chest, taking her to the other bed where she had a set of clothes ready. With quick movements, she began to dress Michelle, ignoring the concerned glare Brennan was directing to her.