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  “Just through high school.”

  “You know a lot about the game.”

  “His dad is a coach,” she said.

  “Really. What team?” Dean asked.

  “It’s a private school,” Stark answered.

  Rex, who had lived in Tulsa, put it together. “Wow. Coach Burns is revered in Tulsa.”

  Stark nodded, noticing that Rex and Wes traded looks. Callie poked her head through the kitchen door just then, and announced, “Uh, dinner’s going to be a little late, guys. Anyone want an appetizer?”

  Assuming that something had boiled over or burned during the baby celebration, Stark shrugged. The others jumped on the appetizer bandwagon, however, and soon he was chowing down on chips and dip. That quickly played out, however. Meri ran upstairs, saying she wanted to comb her hair and put on a little makeup.

  For some reason she seemed nervous when she came back down, perching on the arm of the sofa next to him, her arm around his shoulders. She’d changed into a filmy pink blouse over a matching tank top, replacing her athletic shoes with flirty little flats. She kept glancing at the clock on the mantel. Rex and Wes were doing the same thing. Stark began to get the feeling that he was missing something. Then he heard a vehicle and realized everyone had been waiting for a late arrival.

  That’s when things really got strange. Meri glanced at him guiltily before hopping up and running to the door. Everybody in the room came to their feet, so naturally Stark followed suit. Then the women all poured in from the kitchen. He heard Meri out on the porch talking to someone.

  That almost sounded like... Was that his mother? He heard something about a late start and someone who refused to be left behind.

  The next thing he knew, Meri stood at his side again, her arm around his waist, her anxious face turned up to his. Her pretty lips silently formed the words please... Please.

  Confused, he glanced around, but everyone else’s attention was on the foyer, so that’s where he looked next. And saw his parents. His mom and dad. There. With Meri and her family. And him. Shocked, he felt Meredith’s arm tighten about his waist and looked down once more. He knew instantly that she expected him to be angry because she’d arranged this, but somehow it all felt so right.

  He could only shake his head, chuckling. All he could think to say was, “You warned me.” She’d told him that she would push until he stopped her. In that moment, he felt nothing but gladness.

  He smiled at his parents—and saw his brother, Wayne, behind them. That gave him pause. If Wayne was here, too, could his sisters and their families be far behind? He swallowed down the rising panic. He didn’t want to ruin this day. Somehow he had to push forward.

  He shook his head and said, “Mom, Dad, it’s good to see you. Wayne, you, too.”

  Everyone seemed to relax. His parents started forward, and so did he. His mom said, “It’s good to see you, too, son, so good. Your sisters send their love. They’re spending the holiday with your grandparents. We couldn’t leave them all alone.”

  Relieved, Stark swept Meredith along with him. Then when he reached his parents, he enveloped them both in his arms. “What a day for surprises.”

  He turned to Wes, glanced at Rex, once more gathered Meri against him, and said, “Thank y’all so much.”

  Meri started making introductions. Smiling, Stark placed his hands on her shoulders, thinking that this was, indeed, a day for new beginnings. That’s when Wayne stepped to one side, and it all fell apart.

  A small tornado with long black hair and blue eyes shoved her way through the adults clustered together and threw herself at him, bellowing, “Uncle Stark!”

  Horrified, he stared down into the achingly familiar little face, tears instantly filling his eyes. “Belinda.”

  Suddenly, he was back there again, looking down into that little pink coffin, his heart shattering, the old agony ripping through him.

  Don’t drop me, Daddy! Don’t drop me!

  Hold still then, Belindaworm.

  Wake up, Bel. Please wake up.

  “No, Uncle Stark! It’s Jeanie Ruth.”

  Six-and-a-half-year-old Jeanie Ruth, who was so determined to be loved. By everyone. Even the uncle who had done his best to avoid her from the day of his daughter’s funeral. Jeanie Ruth, his sister Sarah’s daughter, who was the very image of his own sweet Bel. They could have been twins born three years and three months apart, but were opposite sides of the same coin in every other way. Belinda had been sweet, passive and shy, while Jeanie Ruth was strong willed, unusually prescient and canny in an adorable little-girl way that made one wonder if she wouldn’t grow up to rule the world. She certainly seemed determined to rule everyone around her, especially the uncle who did his best to keep his contact with her to a minimum.

  Small for her age, but big on leverage of any sort, Jeanie Ruth had soaked up all the family talk about her resemblance to Belinda, and to her that meant Uncle Stark should grovel at her feet. She didn’t understand the pain that even talk or memories of Bel brought him. She only knew that he should adore her. He did love her. He just couldn’t bear to be around her.

  What could he do in that moment but what he’d always done? He endured her hug, patting her little back impassively, and locked away the urge to run, along with every other emotion. Within moments he felt the familiar, safe old numbness steal over him.

  Meredith introduced Jeanie Ruth to Donovan and then to Bodie. A toy box had been brought down to the mudroom for the little ones, and Jeanie Ruth immediately took charge of the play. Meredith went so far as to bring down her cat, banishing Donovan’s beloved dog to the outdoors.

  A little while later, Stark sat in a corner of the couch, staring at the television while the others chatted companionably around him and the children played in the other room. He couldn’t help wondering how soon he could politely leave. Wayne kept trying to talk to him, but Stark continually interrupted with comments about the game until Wayne simply went away. His father asked him a question about his practice, and he had to filter through what he could remember of the conversation around him before he could formulate a reply.

  “It’s fine.”

  “It seems that Meredith has been a big help to you.”

  “Yes.” Stark purposefully narrowed his field of vision to the TV so he wouldn’t have to see her reaction. It was a trick he’d learned long ago. “She helped streamline things. Got it all organized. I can probably handle it on my own again now.”

  If that caused any shock or consternation, he didn’t see it, didn’t want to see it. His attention was fixed firmly on the game. He would probably never watch another football game, so he might as well enjoy this one, though he couldn’t really have said that he was enjoying anything about this day.

  He knew for certain now. He knew that he simply was not capable of what Meredith would ask of him. She had done her best for him, and he appreciated her efforts. At the very least, she had made his life more comfortable. He would always thank her for that, but it couldn’t be anything else. He simply didn’t have anything else in him.

  What Meri wanted from him, what she deserved to have, had died that October afternoon four years ago with Cathy and Bel. He’d been fooling himself, trying to believe he could have it all again.

  Today he would be thankful for what he’d had and ask for nothing more than peace. He just wanted peace.

  Couldn’t God give him just that much?

  He wouldn’t think of Jeanie Ruth and her grasping little arms, her need for an uncle’s love. She had others to love her, so many others.

  He wouldn’t think of Meredith or her trauma. She was brave and whole and unspeakably beautiful, too wonderful for a wreck of a man like him. Some other man would claim her, a whole man, a more deserving man.

  He wouldn’t think of that man, a better man than him.r />
  He wouldn’t even think of his parents. They had another son and daughters, grandchildren who lived and played and loved. They didn’t need the constant shadow of his grief throwing a pall over every family gathering.

  He wouldn’t think at all. Or feel. Or want. He would just breathe.

  How long, Lord, he wondered silently, do I have to breathe and pretend to like it?

  Somehow he got through dinner. There were not enough chairs or room at either table, so he made sure he was last in line and ate sitting on the sofa. Meri insisted on joining him.

  He knew he’d be sick if he had to eat dessert, so he let Callie package it for him to take home, which he did as soon as possible, despite the complaints. After all, he had a ready-made excuse.

  “I have to see to the animals in the kennel.”

  “On Thanksgiving?” his mother protested.

  “If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have agreed to board them,” he said, returning her hug.

  “That is my fault,” his father confessed. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  Stark knew the truth. His parents had feared he’d find a way to keep them from coming if he’d known beforehand. They were likely correct, especially if he’d known Jeanie Ruth would be with them.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, won’t we?” his mother asked. “We don’t have to leave before evening.”

  “You don’t have any appointments,” Meredith pointed out hopefully.

  He tried for a reassuring smile. “Barring any emergencies. But, of course, there is the kennel.”

  “We’d like to see your place,” his father suggested.

  “Nothing much to see,” Stark hedged.

  “I could bring them by after breakfast,” Meredith offered.

  One more day, he thought, not answering. Surely he could survive one more day. And then what?

  He couldn’t pick up with Meredith as if nothing had happened. She had told him that she would push until he stopped her. Well, the time had come to put a stop to this lunacy, for both their sakes. This needed to be handled and handled now. He was man enough, at least, to do this.

  “Meredith,” he asked, “will you walk me out?”

  She must have sensed it coming, because for once she didn’t brighten. She simply nodded.

  He tried to feel relief.

  He tried to feel rightness, because this was surely the best thing to do.

  He tried to feel regret.

  Something.

  All he felt was sadness, the great, overwhelming sadness that had been his life for four long years now. Before Meri.

  The sadness that would always be his life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The moment Meri had seen Stark’s reaction to his niece, she knew she had blundered badly. Of course, she hadn’t known that Jeanie Ruth would accompany Marvin and Andi Burns. Apparently, even they hadn’t expected to bring the strong-willed child with them, but, according to Wayne, she had thrown such a fit that morning that the family had feared she would ruin Thanksgiving for her frail great-grandparents if left behind. With time escaping, they’d finally agreed to bring her just to get on the road.

  Still, Meri knew that she should have foreseen catastrophe. Hadn’t she felt uneasy about this whole surprise thing from the beginning? Why hadn’t she insisted on telling Stark what they’d planned?

  The answer to that question was simple. She hadn’t told him because she’d feared he would be angry and refuse to take part. At the heart of it, she’d feared he would be angry with her. It had been her idea to invite his parents here for Thanksgiving, after all.

  Even though she didn’t understand exactly what had gone wrong, she knew that she’d ruined the day for Stark, and she could only apologize for that. Before launching into it, she made sure to pull the front door closed behind them when they stepped out onto the porch.

  “I am so, so sorry. I should have told you they were coming.” When he would have spoken, she held up a hand. “Let me rephrase that. I should have asked you before we invited them.”

  He crammed his hat onto his head, not looking at her, and said, “You were just trying to make everyone happy. That’s what you do.”

  She didn’t quite know how to take that. It sounded hopeful, but he still hadn’t looked at her. “I thought it would h-help.”

  “You didn’t know Jeanie Ruth would be with them,” he said after a moment ripe with tension, “or that she looks enough like my daughter to be her twin.”

  Meredith caught her breath. “Oh, Stark.” She reached out a comforting hand, but he shifted away from her. A chill swept over her, a bitter cold that had nothing to do with the pleasant, surprisingly still afternoon.

  “It’s like seeing Bel come back from...” He let that go, swallowing, and squared his shoulders. “You’d think I’d get over it.” He shook his head. “But I don’t. And I’m not going to, Meredith. That’s the thing I have to face. The thing we both have to face.” He looked at her finally, his dark eyes filled with such sadness that she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  She knew what he was saying. He didn’t have to spell it out. “Stark,” she began, instinctively reaching out to him again. He stepped back. “Listen to me. One day, I know, you’ll want to be a father again. You’ll realize—”

  “If you knew, really knew, you wouldn’t ask that of me.”

  The calmness of his words terrified her.

  “All right,” she said, aware that her voice trembled. “That doesn’t mean—”

  “It means,” he interrupted gently, “that I can’t see you anymore.”

  “No, Stark. Don’t say that. Please. Just think for a minute.”

  “Don’t come back to work,” he told her, his voice deep and even.

  “No. Stark. No. Please.” But he had already stepped off the porch and was walking down the path away from her. “Stark,” she whispered, clinging to the upright post so she wouldn’t collapse into a blubbering heap. She wanted to shout, but that would only alert those in the house, and if she had any hope of changing his mind...if she had any hope...

  She stood there for—she didn’t know how long—too stunned to move, let alone weep or even pray. Something cold and clammy touched the inside of her wrist, making her jump. Glancing down, she found Donovan’s aggravating dog, Digger, staring up at her.

  “Stop that!” she commanded, rubbing the spot where it had touched her with its nose. The dog tilted its head and rose up on its hind legs, leaning against her with its forepaws. A claw snagged in the delicate fabric of her overblouse. “Down!”

  Just as the dog plopped back to all fours, the front door opened, and Donovan and Jeanie Ruth ran out.

  “Aunt Meri!” Donovan cried happily. “Me and Jeanie Ruth is going to sleep over!”

  “That’s fine,” Meredith said grudgingly, tugging on her blouse and glaring at the dog, “as long as that beast of yours stays at your house.”

  “But Digger always stays with me,” Donovan said, obviously dismayed.

  “He ruined my blouse!” Meredith snapped. “And he terrorizes my cat.”

  “He don’t terrorsize our cats.”

  “I want that animal kept at your place!” Meredith insisted.

  “I want to sleep over at your house anyhow,” Jeanie Ruth said, folding her arms. “I want to play in your tree house.”

  “But Granny Andi said we had to sleep here. We can play at my house tomorrow,” Donovan pointed out.

  “What about your dog?” Jeanie Ruth asked slyly.

  Donovan went down on his knees, petting the dog. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boy.”

  Meredith turned to see Ann standing in the doorway, a frown on her face. “The cat’s going to
be in your room anyway, isn’t it, Meri?”

  “If someone doesn’t let it out,” Meredith muttered, pushing past her into the foyer.

  Dean and her father stood there. Dean said, “The dog is trained to protect Donovan because he goes to the fields with me so often.”

  So what does he need protection from here? Meri wondered, heading for the stairs. What in this house could possibly harm him? Broken hearts weren’t contagious, after all.

  As she started up the stairs, her father said, “We have company, Meredith.”

  “I have a headache.” Only as she said it did she realize that it was so. Her head pounded with every beat of her aching heart.

  She heard Callie say, “You must’ve eaten something that disagreed with you. I’ll bring you something for it.”

  Falling onto her bed, Meredith felt the cat hop up next to her and cradled it close, even as the throbbing in her skull blinded her. Callie roused her moments later. She swallowed pills with water, gasping with the pain in her head, but though the pain receded, true sleep did not come. Instead, unwelcome thoughts crept in.

  Her whole world had fallen apart. She’d lost the man she loved and her job at the same time. She would have to return to Oklahoma City to work, after all. But what did it matter? She couldn’t imagine making a life with any man other than Stark. Worst of all was thinking of Stark slipping back into the half-life that he’d been living. She hadn’t helped him at all, hadn’t truly improved his life one bit.

  He didn’t love her, didn’t want her. He didn’t love anyone or anything but his grief. That meant he might as well have died with Cathy and Belinda, and that truly broke her heart.

  Finally the tears came. She tried to pray, but the words wouldn’t form. All she could think was, Please, please, please...

  At some point, she realized that the house had quieted. Then, in the silence that should have meant the household was sleeping, she heard something that sounded very much like the front door opening. Troubled, Meredith sat up in bed.

  She hadn’t undressed, but she had kicked off her shoes. Barefoot, she stood and padded to the door of her bedroom. She opened it a crack, hearing more creaks and groans. The cat tried to slip out, so she bent and picked it up. Cradling Tiger against her, she stepped out into the hall and heard giggling voices downstairs. Obviously, the kids were up and about instead of sleeping.