Make a Right (8 page)

Tuck nodded in answer to the unspoken question. “This’ll do.”

Tuck took care to coast into the parking lot in an easy glide and came to a gentle stop by the single row of gas pumps. Suzie-Q barked and danced in Cade’s lap, eager to jump out and run.

Not Tuck. Not yet. He coughed, tried to wet his lips, and gave up. “You’re welcome,” he said, as quietly as Cade. “I’ll make this quick, and we can get on our way. We’ve got to be close.”

A truck sat parallel to them with an honest-faced, decent-looking guy leaning casually on his bumper, waiting for his tank to fill.

Huh
. Tuck gave him a second glance. The guy looked almost as out of place here as they did. Big guy, built like a man who didn’t get his muscles at a gym. He dressed as casually as Tuck and Cade themselves in a light T-shirt and jeans, and had broad hands scarred with the marks of a lifetime’s hard work.

Tuck liked him.

“Help you with something?” the man asked.

Damn it. Busted for staring. Tuck grimaced fast at Cade, who—hell, returned the favor with a small dash of sympathy. It was unexpected and good and took the sharp edges off Tuck’s mood too.

He shook his head at the man at the pump. “Sorry. Zoned out. I’ve been on the road since before dawn.”

The man’s eyebrows made a slow climb. “Long drive.”

“You’re not kidding. I’m looking for…uh…” Now was not the time to go blank. “Hannah,” he blurted. “Megan.”

“Pardon?” The man frowned.

Tuck really had been driving too long; he couldn’t think of any other names, street or otherwise. “Uh…”

Cade came through in a pinch. He leaned forward to look past Tuck, saying, “We’re looking for Professor McIntyre’s house. It’s on Dogwood Crest. Do you—” Pause. Odd pause. “Do you know where that is?”

Anyone else would have missed the slight falter. Anyone but Tuck. Just a twitch when Cade met the man’s steady gaze. He had a certain calm to him that was…somehow familiar.

“You all right?” the man asked, and no wonder. Cade had gone statue again.

Almost…scared?

Tuck made a split-second decision and took a chance by resting his hand on Cade’s thigh to soothe him. It helped. Some.

“He’s cool,” Tuck said. “Long day for both of us.” Odd. The more Tuck checked the guy out, the more familiarity tugged at him. Like he was someone Tuck
should
know.

He didn’t. No one in his memory came close. But if he tweaked Cade out, then Tuck would leave whoever this was in the dust without thinking twice. He rapped the side of the car with his knuckles. “So. Directions?”

“Around here they say ‘please,’” the man replied. He unhooked the nozzle from his gas tank and nodded to the right. “You’re almost close enough to see it from here. Two blocks down and it’ll be on your right. McIntyre’s place is at the end of Dogwood Court, not Crest. The good professor’s is the only house down there. You can’t miss it.”

Tuck snorted. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard that. I drive a taxi,” he explained.

Most people worked up at least a courtesy chuckle over that particular exchange. Not this guy. He narrowed his eyes, weighing Tuck in some sort of balance. Not exactly what you’d call a hostile reaction, but nowhere near friendly either. “That makes sense,” he said.

Okayyy. Moving right along now.

“Yeah, well. Thanks. Two down, make a right,” Tuck said, already moving forward.

He glanced back once to see the man still watching them. “Creepy enough for you? Jesus.”

Cade’s response? More silence, but of a different sort. A little unnerved, a lot thoughtful.

Truth be told, Tuck thought he liked this less than the statue routine. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“What?” Cade shook himself out of some kind of reverie. He sounded as odd as his mood suggested. “It’s nothing. He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

You bet your ass Tuck would have asked about that if the sign for Dogwood Court hadn’t come into sight and put it out of his mind. “Thank Jesus, Mary, and all the saints,” he breathed. “See? I told you I’d get us here.”

“You did.” Cade shifted in his seat. He shook his head, but not the way he’d been seconds before. “You did,” he repeated, the hint of that tiny smile drifting in to replace his preoccupied frown.

It was a good thing, to be breathing easy at the end of this journey.

They pulled up to the curb in front of the house, a style Tuck thought might be called colonial. He hadn’t expected to like it, but he did. It had the grace of an elderly, refined lady. One who’d grown old gracefully and scorned the idea of facelifts and was comfortable with being lived in as a home, not a showpiece.

There was even a woman out front getting her hands in the dirt, turning over the soil in preparation for planting a bed of those cool flowers that bloomed in different colors every day. Moss roses, was that the name? One of their neighbors in the city had a window box of those. Rich with a decadent abundance of color sprinkled throughout a messy tangle of succulent green vines.

Was she the gardener? Probably. Good to look at, she was, a woman lean but strong, her hair tucked up underneath a straw hat. She radiated a sort of quiet contentment that eased the rattle of the long and weary road from his bones.

Wait
. Tuck looked down. He hadn’t imagined that. As he’d wished for a long time, Cade had taken his hand. More than. He’d knotted their fingers together and squeezed tight. A little too tight, actually. His knuckles were white, and Tuck’s finger bones sent up a protest over the pressure of the squeeze.

So, that couldn’t be good. Tuck killed the engine. “Cade? Cade.” He twisted their wrists from side to side, jostling him. “You okay?”

“My God.” Cade couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the gardener. “
Look
at her.”

“I was. What’s the deal?”

Cade’s laugh broke down the middle. He let go of Tuck. He looked different. Amazed. Surprised. Relieved. A dozen different emotions all warring for pride of place on one face. “You’ll see.”

The woman dusted off her work gloves and tucked them into her pocket. Somehow familiar, same as the man at the gas station, but different too. It wasn’t, however, until she tipped the sun hat off her head to hang down on her back, loosing a spill of bright hair now a slightly darker gold but still less controllable than dandelions, that Tuck recognized her.

“Changed” wasn’t a strong enough word here. This lady had found strength since the last time he’d seen her. A quiet courage, a peace of sorts that turned a familiar kid sister into a grown woman who knew how to be happy in her own skin.

“My God,” Tuck echoed Cade, cranking down the window as fast as he could. He wrestled free of his seat belt and hitched himself fully half out the window. “Hannah?” he called, still not quite believing it could be her. Two years couldn’t allow for
that
much change.

Only it had, and it
was
her. Hannah.

And swear to God, Tuck had seen dimmer glows on 100-watt bulbs when Hannah got a proper look at his face. “Tuck?”

Tuck whooped at top volume, matched by Hannah’s peal of excited laughter. He didn’t bother with unlocking the car door, just slithered on out and hit the ground running. She met him halfway, colliding, hanging on tight while he swooped her up in a hug that knocked the breath out of both of them.

He’d hugged her this way when they were both kids, when she was as skinny as a spider monkey and scared out of her mind, A kid who pleaded silently from the shadows for someone she could count on, who’d hug her when she needed it, and who she could trust to let her fly.

No matter what else happened, this moment here? This made it all worthwhile.

Chapter Four

Look at her, would you
? She weighed almost nothing! Like feathers, and feathers belonged in the air even when their owners were beating him with small, rock-hard fists. A big brother had certain prerogatives, namely to tease the ever-living shit out of his sibs, and from the way she laughed, like sparks of sunlight, she didn’t
really
mind.

“Oxygen! I need to breathe.” Hannah landed a good one beneath his shoulder blades. “Enough. Put me down. Wait, no, not like that—”

Too late. Tuck spun them around as fast as he could pivot, one-two-three, and set her lightly on her feet. She pirouetted in an awkward circle, but he caught her before she crashed.

Her eyes were still a little crossed when she squeezed half the breath out of
him
. He rocked her, steadying her. “You know that had to be done.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I’m just glad you didn’t still have a trowel in your hand. Those fuckers have sharp edges.”

“You had to go there? Honestly.” Hannah stretched up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, then drew back to take him by the hands. “You threaten to cut a guy once, and he never lets you live it down.” She looked him up and down, seeming both weirdly fascinated and delighted.

“What?”

“I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve changed so much.”

“Me?” Tuck said, blinking in confusion. “Try that one again, lady.” And “lady” she was. He’d still thought of her as a skinny kid before now. “When did you go and grow up?”

She laughed. “Must have been when you weren’t looking.”

“Remind me to kick my own ass for that later, would you?” Tuck couldn’t get past the changes in her. She’d be twenty-three now. All grown up.

“Tuck?” She tilted her head and grinned at him. Sisters had their teasing prerogatives too. “Need a tissue?”

Tuck coughed and wiped his face against his sleeve. “Shut up. I have something in my eye. All that dirt you were throwing around.”

Hannah crossed her arms. “Uh-huh.”

“Yeah-huh. See? Still the conversationalists of legend, us.” Tuck knuckled the top of her head. “Go take a look in a mirror, then come talk to me about ‘change.’”

She wrinkled her nose. “Mirrors and I haven’t gotten along since you told me that story about Bloody Mary.”

“Which you and Megan immediately went and tried.” Tuck laughed out loud. “In every bathroom at St. Pius’s. Including the one in Father Michael’s office. Was it your idea or Megan’s to set up two mirrors facing each other to see if you could get a double-Mary cat fight?”

“That was Megan. She’s the smart one,” Hannah said sunnily.

“I thought she was the bad girl.”

“I think you’re in for a lot of surprises. Don’t stay away so long next time.” Hannah ruffled his hair, almost knuckling his scalp. “Did you know you have a gray hair?”

Tuck stopped himself, barely, from tugging a lock of his hair over his eyes to check. “Bite your tongue. I’m forever youthful.”

“A kid at heart,” Cade murmured behind him. “Peter Pan.”

“Who’s talking kids? This one still needs to learn her manners.” Tuck swung Hannah around in another set of dizzying circles, set her lightly on her feet, and pointed her toward Cade. Cade, who leaned propped on the side of the car with his hands in his pockets and a hesitant smile as if unsure how she’d welcome him compared to her pleasure at seeing Tuck. Suzie-Q sat at his feet with her head cocked curiously, taking the measure of this strange rural world.

“Cade.” Hannah stumbled toward the car, laughing at the way she weaved like a drunkard but steady enough by the time she reached Cade to take his hands as she’d taken Tuck’s. No big and elaborate hug for the two of them, but it looked like Hannah had learned to be good at sizing up what a person needed. Rough and rowdy with one, gentle with another. “Look at you. You’re even more different than Tuck.”

No kidding, but…she didn’t sound dismayed. She sounded
pleased
. Tuck took a second look, and then a third, looking for what Hannah saw that he hadn’t.

Small things. Cade had lost weight since the last time he and Hannah had seen one another, sure, but he’d added some muscle too; he tended to exercise when his head got too busy to cope with and he needed a physical outlet. His shoulders were wider, his arms stronger in comparison, and his legs sturdy with runner’s muscle. All those sleepless nights putting in hours studying at home had lent Cade a few years more than his due, but they looked good on him. If not for that shaved head, Tuck would bet half a year’s pay Cade would have a sprinkling of gray. He seemed, in that moment, like a stranger Tuck barely knew.

Kind of made Tuck want to duck back to the car and take a fresh look at himself in the rearview mirror to see if there were things he’d never noticed in his own face.

“You do have a gray hair, you know,” Cade murmured.

Tuck flinched. “The hell you say!” Still, he couldn’t be too pissed at the blatant lie—no gray hairs for
him
at his age, thanks. Not when here was proof Cade still knew him well enough to guess his thoughts, when Cade had lightened up enough to tease. Felt good.

Tuck dropped a smacking, wet kiss on the top of Hannah’s head, laughing at her when she spluttered.

“Ugh! I’ll sic Megan on you for that,” she threatened, crouching to pet Suzie-Q and let the dog sniff her hand. “Unless this pretty girl knows how to bite?”

Cade stood just that little bit straighter, almost brightening. A good sight, that. “Megan. Is she here?”

“She’s inside. It’s this way; follow me.” Hannah winked at Tuck. She knew the score of subtle degrees of affection, and she was smart enough not to mind. In the end, they were both still loved.

She made Tuck proud.

He rumpled her hair but good. “That’s my girl. Lead the way.”

* * *

“You’re not going to believe this,” she said, falling into place between Tuck and Cade, clasping both of them by the hand to lead them on. Suzie-Q trotted ahead and behind, straining at her leash. Once she’d gotten over her shyness, man, you could tell she already thought this was the
life.

“Believe what?”

“Time stands still for no one,” Hannah said. She glanced from Tuck to Cade and back again. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How much happened in a year.”

Tuck coughed and kept his head down. Cade didn’t flinch, but somehow the absence of a flinch was even more noticeable.