A Place with Briar (Harlequin Superromance) (24 page)

The flintiness was back as Hudson’s gaze rose back to pin Cole’s. “Don’t talk about my wife. You didn’t know her.”

“Actually, I think I sort of do, sir,” Cole told him. “Briar’s her mother’s daughter, isn’t she? Not just in looks.”

Hudson’s jaw quaked as he fought against the need to speak. He muttered an oath on an expelled breath and gave in. “The fight against Douglas Howard might’ve been a win, son, but it took years of her life. Five years of stress. Then she took it upon herself to fight for others. It’s what killed her, you know. The stress.
He
killed her. So when Howard’s daughter came knocking on my door, I knew what I had to do. You may think that I don’t care about Briar. But I did what I did because I knew she couldn’t win this—not without gambling something big in return. Something she couldn’t afford to lose.”

Cole searched the old man’s face and saw the truth in the determined glint in the flinty eyes that stared back at him, challenging him to deny his best intentions. Cole didn’t know which of the two of them was more surprised to hear him say, “I believe you.” He cleared his throat when Hudson only blinked at him. Reaching for the thermos, he spun it around and around. “I still don’t believe what you did was right. But what we do for our kids’ safety or well-being
isn’t
always.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Hudson observed.

Cole nodded. “I did what I did for Tiffany so she’d let me see my son again.”

“It’s not easy,” Hudson admitted, “being a father. Did you get what you wanted?”

Cole thought of the papers Tiffany had delivered to his motel room days before. “Yes, but I’d love to give him what Briar showed me I could have again—a family. Home.”

Hudson reached for the thermos and took it from Cole’s hand. He lifted it in acknowledgment. “Then it seems, Mr. Savitt, that, against all odds, we understand one another.” The bracket between his eyes appeared once more. “And it seems, where my daughter is concerned, there’s quite a bit of making up for lost time to be done by both of us.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

O
LIVIA
FROWNED
AFTER
her uncle closed the door behind him, leaving her apartment over the tavern. After a moment, she turned to Cole, who leaned against the granite countertop of her kitchen, and shook her head. “Unbelievable. Do you know how many times I’ve tried to knock some sense into my uncle’s head? You show up here with coffee and, in ten minutes’ time, you two are all but chanting ‘Kumbaya’?”

Cole slipped his hands into his pockets, a bit uneasy now that he was alone with Olivia. “I, ah...I’m sorry?”

“Well, don’t be,” she snapped. “If I wasn’t so flipping mad at you, I’d kiss you right now.”

He couldn’t fight a smile. It was a small one, but he let it curve his lips. “Would you rather hit me, instead?”

She raised a brow. “You’d let me do that?”

“It’s nothing I don’t deserve.” Letting his hands dangle at his sides, he stood up straight and took a deep breath. “Go on. Do your worst.”

Her eyes narrowed as she measured the breadth of his shoulders. “I’d rather use Betty.”

His mouth fumbled. “Who’s Betty?”

“My rifle,” she told him and grinned wickedly when his mouth fell. “I keep her behind the couch in my office downstairs. Just in case.”

He pressed his lips together. “I’ll wait here.”

Her eyes lit with dark light as she considered. “Or maybe Glinda.”

Swallowing, he asked after a moment’s hesitation, “Glinda?”

“Oh, just my aluminum baseball bat from my high school days,” she explained. “I keep her underneath Chuck’s floorboard. And, you should know, I used to have the highest softball batting average in three counties. A couple of broken kneecaps ought to make me feel
loads
better.”

“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s working,” he told her. “Then again, you don’t need Betty or Glinda for that.”

Her lips quirked and the dark light in her eyes vanished, replaced by true mirth. Face softening, she relaxed. “Damn it, I still like you.” Moving past him into the kitchen, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. Grabbing a glass from one of the cabinets above the clean countertop, she asked, “Why did you come back?”

“To talk to you,” he said truthfully.

“You assumed I would let you.” Turning, with the glass full of orange juice in her hand, she leaned against the counter and sipped. “Brave man. Question: Is the ex-wife still picking up the tab?”

He scowled. “As far as I know, she’s gone. I’m done with her in any case.”

“Must’ve been a job well done if she’s left you alone.”

Sighing, he hid his hands in the pockets of his jeans again. “Ever since the break-in, I’ve done my best to rid myself of her, to give Briar what she deserves.”

“And what’s that?”

“Honesty,” he said instantly. “Something real and solid. Someone she can always count on being there for her. I thought about taking out a loan to pay off the inn’s debts—”

Olivia pursed her lips. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” At Cole’s bemused look, she continued. “A couple of last-minute investors paid off Briar’s tab before the worst happened. Their help is well on its way to taking care of all the bills still owed for my aunt’s medical care.”

“And Tiffany?” Cole added. “She just...moved on?”

Olivia snorted. “It
did
help that Adrian and I figured out for ourselves that she was behind the break-in. Since our sit-down with her to discuss our terms, she backed off real cooperative-like and we haven’t seen or heard from her since. I don’t think she’ll be returning.”

“So the inn’s safe.” His heart pounded hopefully. “Briar’s in the clear.”

“Yes,” she replied and watched relief spill across his face.

He blew out a breath. “I’m glad Briar got everything she wanted. I never wanted anything else.”

“Not everything,” Olivia said. Setting the glass down with a clack on the counter, she boosted herself up to sit on the edge. “Do you know she cried for days over your betrayal? Don’t think for a second hearing her grieve like that didn’t make me want to peel the skin from your bones one inch at a time. She may have the inn back, she may have restored Hanna’s legacy, but she didn’t get everything she wanted—you left a hole.”

“I want to fix it,” he told her. “I want to be the man she saw in me. I love her, Olivia. Tell me, please, if there’s any chance of making things right?”

She studied him scrupulously from head to toe, weighing him. “Nobody knows the power of forgiveness more than Briar.” Hopping off the counter, she crossed the room to him. “You want to be that man she believed in, prove it now.”

“Just point me in the right direction,” Cole said.

Smiling up at him, she tilted her head. “How did it feel, finding out you had something in common with Uncle Hud?”

“Scared the hell out of me,” he replied. Seeing himself in the broken shell of a man across the table from him had made his need for redemption even more drastic.

She nodded. “Good. That means you’re desperate—you’re going to need that.”

* * *

C
ONTINUITY
. I
T
WAS
enough, Briar told herself as she gazed at the inn. She’d been working in her garden when the sun’s gleam against the windowpane above her head caught her eye. Unable to help herself, she’d taken a seat on the garden bench to simply look at what she had saved.

She’d saved it. Somehow she had saved it all from disappearing.
Thank God,
she thought, closing her eyes and breathing in the smell of jasmine blooms and gardenia. She would stay with Hanna’s, and Hanna’s would stay with her.

She sat still, listening to the waves lap gently to shore and the birds cry from overhead. She heard the whisper of the trees and the early chirp of cricket song. A dull pulse rent the air, Olivia’s tavern music just barely audible on the soft breeze.

Peace.
It had been a while since she’d encountered it. Despite her surroundings, and her future and Hanna’s finally solidified, peace had eluded her still.

She knew what was missing yet she refused to dwell on it. She wouldn’t dwell on misplaced dreams or the man she’d built them around. She was done wishing for what could have been.

She would never love another, not enough to let him all the way in. The inn would be filled with voices for a long time to come, as she’d wished...even if a family of her own didn’t come with the happy partnership she’d envisioned. She had Olivia, Adrian and Roxie. One day, they would all bring their families into the fold. They would grow and flourish, just like the new vegetable buds she’d replanted that were already ripening on their stalks and vines.

She could be content with that.

She
would
be content with that. Just as she would try and forget what she had wanted to build with the man she had loved. And in quiet moments like these, she would meditate, and remember the ones that really mattered.

Fairies. Fairies dancing.

Briar opened her eyes and looked out toward the bay. The sun had lowered to just the right angle...and fairies danced over its restless blue crests.

Sighing, she braced her hands on either side of her. Trying not to ache for the past, she stood and bent to pick up the bucket of gardening tools she’d abandoned next to the vegetable patch.

“Hey, cuz,” Olivia said, emerging from the back of the tavern. She was dressed for a long night of bartending in a black halter dress, tights and black boots. “Wow,” she said, looking out toward the sunset, shading her eyes from the glare of the sun by visoring one hand over her brows. “Hell of a night for daydreaming.”

Briar tucked her bucket against her hip and crossed the lawn. “It’s almost too late for dinner now. I’ve wasted so much time staring at it.”

Olivia slung an arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the screen door of the inn kitchen together. “Sounds like time well wasted to me.”

“It’s a Friday night,” Briar observed. “How are you not swamped behind a bar right now?”

Waving a dismissive hand, Olivia opened the screen door with a creak and let Briar pass through first. “It’s nothing Monica can’t handle long enough for me to check in on you.”

Briar sighed and bent to place the bucket back under the sink where it belonged. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m fine?”

Olivia picked a green apple from the basket at the center of the nook table. Taking a hearty bite, she made herself at home in one of the chairs. “What happened last night didn’t settle well with me. He’s my uncle, your father, and you were on the receiving end. Stop trying to convince me it didn’t affect you.”

Giving in to the impulse, Briar seated herself at the table across from her cousin. “I actually ran into him.”

Olivia paused in the midst of raising the apple to her mouth. “When?”

“Around lunchtime,” Briar explained, thinking back to the strange interlude. “At Flora.”

“Oh, yeah?” Olivia took another bite and talked around the mouthful. “What did he have to say for himself?”

“He was...actually kind of pleasant for a change,” Briar remembered. She tried not to dwell on the hope that had been born out of the chance meeting with her father. Hope that things could change—that he could change. Lifting a shoulder in dismissal, she added, “He apologized profusely for last night. And for scheming with Tiffany Howard.”

“Did you forgive him?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to,” Briar contemplated. “So, no, not there on the spot. But I agreed to dinner one night this week. He said he wants to talk things over, on my terms.”

“Hmm,” Olivia hummed. She motioned toward Briar with the apple. “You believe him?”

“I kind of do,” Briar admitted. At Olivia’s raised brow, she shook her head. “I know. Apparently, I’m subscribing to Roxie’s line of thinking and becoming a hopeless optimist. But, Liv, I caught him buying flowers for me.”

“No way.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Crazy, right? When I asked who they were for, he got this sheepish look on his face, got all red and stammery and said they were for me. Though he couldn’t be sure what my favorite flower was. He looked so ashamed. He said, ‘I guess that makes me a horrible father.’”

“Huh,” Olivia said, slack-jawed. Recovering herself, she studied the half of the apple that she hadn’t devoured. “Ol’ Uncle Hud’s becoming a kindly gentleman. What is this world coming to?”

The sound of knocking echoed from the entryway. Before Briar could shift to rise, Olivia was up and moving. “Sit,” she commanded, pointing to keep Briar in place. “I’ve got it.”

Briar blinked as Olivia quickly disappeared down the hall. “Okay,” she said belatedly.

“Special delivery,” Olivia announced, walking briskly back into the kitchen moments later, her arms laden with a large crystal-cut vase full of sunflowers in full bloom and vibrant color.

“What—” Briar’s voice faltered when Adrian entered behind her, carrying more sunflowers in crystal. “Oh, my—” Again, she lost her voice as another vase full of flowers rounded the jamb, Roxie beneath it. “Um...that’s a lot of sunflowers.”

“Apparently, you have an admirer,” Olivia pointed out helpfully.

“To say the least,” Adrian said, shifting underneath her vase. “Who’s got the card?”

“Me,” Roxie said, turning as Briar finally found her feet.

The little greeting card was buried in the sunflower stalks on Roxie’s far side. Briar pulled it off its plastic stand and frowned at the blank envelope with Flora’s insignia stamped in the top left corner. “They’re from Daddy.” She knew already. “I just...didn’t expect so many.”

“Read the card, cuz,” Olivia said with a smirk.

Briar eyed her curiously. She looked a smidge impish. Turning to Adrian, she asked, “They are from Daddy. Right?”

Her eyes, a tad overbright, widened in forged innocence. “Ah...sure.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Briar saw someone else round the corner into the kitchen. Someone tall, dark and broad. Her heart threw itself against her ribs, and that ache she’d been trying so hard to ignore over the past few weeks swelled to life in her breast.

She sucked in a breath, preparing for the onslaught. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze from his trim jean-clad legs over a charcoal-hued T-shirt with three buttons at the neck and up over the devastating face of the man she’d loved. Between his hands was a single yellow dark-eyed bloom.

He looked wonderful, she noted...and probably smelled nice, too. Quickly, she expelled the wayward thoughts. She’d tried not to get near enough to smell him or look at him too closely last night. She’d tried not to think about him during the whole long, sleepless night that had followed.

Why
was he here? Clearing her throat, Briar addressed the others who still stood with their large bright offerings, observing and motionless. “There better be a good explanation for all this.”

“Don’t be angry at them,” Cole said. “This was my idea.”

“And what exactly is
this?
” she asked, gesturing to the bevy of flora crowding her kitchen. “Your plea for forgiveness?”

“Partly.” He nodded, dark eyes combing her face. “I
did
have my thoughts together. I thought I could prepare myself, but...you’re so beautiful, Briar. Now I can’t string two words together looking at you.”

She sucked in another sharp breath, this time involuntarily. Her heart thudded like a wild thing in her ears. Her head felt disturbingly light, and she couldn’t draw a deep enough breath to clear it. “Explain yourself quickly, Cole,” she said with a shrug. “But I warn you, there’s not much you can say at this point to change things.”

“Briar,” Olivia interjected.

“You’re defending him?” Briar asked, incredulous, as she whirled on her cousin.

Sighing, Olivia lifted the bottom-heavy vase onto the counter behind her. Then she planted her hands on her hips. “Hear me out first. Last night I didn’t think there was much he could say for himself, either. But when I went up to check on Uncle Hud, he was still there. He stayed until morning. He shoved him under a cold shower so I wouldn’t have to. Then he left and came back with coffee for the both of them. And then they sat down and talked.”