Maybe it was silly, but she’d wanted to stand with her family when the tarp came down. Wanted to gape at the immense blessing this project had become and catalog the whole experience in her heart—ups and downs, frustrations and joys, fear turned to hope, all of it.
And she wanted to treasure these fleeting moments with the people she loved here on the riverfront.
Because it might be a while before she returned.
A sunset in velvet shades of violet and blue gazed upon Bear’s walk home. How long had it been since he’d felt this feeling? The simple delight of a simple accomplishment.
CPR refresher course—done.
Which meant he’d be ready for classes when they started in September. Late acceptance into Atlanta Tech had been just the most recent answer to prayer. Nothing near as miraculous as Rio’s recovery, of course, but he was grateful all the same.
And since he’d withdrawn his application from the community center position in Brazil, it meant he had time to complete the full paramedic program at Atlanta Tech, rather than just EMT-basic. A second chance at the career that’d never gotten off the ground the first time around. He’d spoken to multiple people at both the college and the Georgia Office of EMS and Trauma about the felonies that would show up on his required background check. In another answer to prayer, it sounded like his record wouldn’t ultimately be an issue.
It’d been such an odd mix of difficult and yet liberating to let go of the idea of Brazil. To come to terms with the truth John had laid out so clearly for him during the week he and Elizabeth had spent in Atlanta—that no one was holding Bear to that promise he’d made in prison. That God had never asked him to live out Annie’s dream.
That had been his own idea, born out of a desperate, impossible desire to somehow right an unchangeable wrong.
Grace upon grace. It’d become the theme he clung to—when the past tried to pull him back, when his future felt uncertain. When he missed Raegan so much that even breathing felt like a strain on his tattered heart.
Bear stopped in front of the red-brick, two-story home he shared with Rio and Rosa and the kids as of a few weeks ago. Amazingly, it was the church down in Brazil that had made this living situation possible. John and Elizabeth had rallied the troops, taken a collection during a church service. They’d sent it along with an apology that it wasn’t more.
But it had been exactly enough for the deposit and first month’s rent on this house. White shutters, bright blue front door, towering oak in the front yard. It wasn’t fancy or new, but it was nice. Quaint, that was the word for it. A word he’d never really thought fit anywhere other than in Maple Valley—certainly not a suburb of Atlanta.
Raegan would approve of this house. She’d like that it was old. She’d say it had character.
It wouldn’t have been Bear’s first choice to stay in Atlanta, even a suburb far from their childhood neighborhood. But with Rio’s physical therapy and a slew of upcoming depositions, they had to stay in the area. At least for the foreseeable future.
Besides, something in Bear needed to stay. Not forever, but for now. Long enough to remember there had been happy times here, to find the beauty in the mess instead of chasing a shiny new life elsewhere. Long enough to make sure that if he ever did leave again, he wasn’t running away.
And long enough to restore relationships he’d once thought lost for good. He wasn’t sure if or when he’d feel ready to contact Dad or his mom and step-dad. He’d wait for God’s direction on that. But this extended time with his brother—and with Jamie and Erin—meant more to him than he’d probably ever be able to express.
He’d come to understand and respect Rosa more and more, too. He’d caught glimpses of sorrow on her face now and then when she didn’t think anyone was looking. She had her husband and kids back, but her father would eventually go on trial for decades’ worth of criminal activity.
Bear nodded to the officer keeping watch on the house from an unmarked car at the curb. At some point, hopefully, the threat of retaliation from one of Inez’s few men still on the streets might dissolve. But for now the extra measure of security provided peace of mind about his family’s safety.
His family. Never had the words tasted so sweet. Messy and imperfect, but his.
Raegan understood, right? When he’d called weeks ago and told her all the reasons he needed to stay, she’d grasped the depth of his conviction, hadn’t she?
“I’m not here to fix things or play hero or take over Rio and Rosa’s roles as parents. I’m not trying to make up for anything. I’m just trying . . .” To listen, for once. Instead of making a hasty promise or rushing headlong into his own plan, to slow down and pray and do as John had said—look for the crack in the door filled with light.
The light kept leading him to the same place—right here with his family.
And though every day away from Raegan had been its own kind of difficult, he was discovering there was freedom to be found in following the Spirit’s leading. No longer was he obeying the hiss of his guilt or the bellows of his past. Only the whisper in his soul.
Stay. Be a brother to Rio. Be an uncle to Jamie and Erin. Be a friend to Rosa.
Raegan hadn’t argued with him. In fact, she’d said very little at all. They hadn’t talked since. He kept telling himself it was for the best. Believing it was another matter entirely.
Bear climbed the few cement stairs that led to the front door and let himself into the house. A blast of air conditioning budged into the heat of the July day—and Erin’s shriek. “Uncle Bear’s home!”
Like every time he returned to the house—usually from the job he’d landed with the same construction company he’d worked for post–high school—Erin launched herself into his arms.
“Oh no,” he said the second he sniffed the acrid air. “Who burned what?”
As if he even had to ask. He finally understood all those takeout containers he’d seen in that apartment kitchen his first day back in the States. Cooking—not so much in Rosa’s wheelhouse.
Jamie looked up from the couch, gangly legs sprawled on an oversized ottoman and a letter in his lap. From Elise, no doubt. Cute little pen pals, they’d become. Not that he’d dare use the word cute to Jamie’s face. “I asked Mom if we could order pizza.”
Smart kid. “What’d she say?”
“Only if we promise not to tell you she burned the fish.”
Ew, fish. Maybe he should be grateful for Rosa’s lack of cooking skills. He set Erin down. “I’ll do my best not to give it away when I walk in the kitchen. Might have to hold my nose, though.”
He was halfway through the dining room when Erin called after him. “Aren’t you going to shower, Uncle Bear?”
Had he become that habitual? “Didn’t work at the building site today. Not as dirty as usual.”
He found Rosa in the kitchen, scraping a charred pan. “Don’t say a word, Bear.”
“Even if that word is pizza? Did you order yet? I’m starving.”
“Not yet. Figured you’d need time to clean up first.”
“Everybody’s concerned about me cleaning up.” He held his shirt up to his nose. “Do I smell or something?” Couldn’t smell worse than this kitchen.
His petite sister-in-law grinned. Man, it was good to see her like this—none of the frantic alarm she’d worn that night she entrusted Jamie and Erin to him. No more circles under her eyes.
He grabbed a towel from the counter and reached for the pan now dripping on a drying rack. They’d developed an easy rhythm, everyone pitching in with chores, taking turns with meals. Bear and Rosa had coordinated their work schedules to cover caring for Rio and the kids.
And every day, Rio got a little better.
“You don’t have to do that, Bear. I may not be able to cook without making a mess, but I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up said mess. Go on upstairs.”
Fine, he would. But not to shower. He and Rio had cut off in the middle of a game of Scrabble this morning. Maybe they could finish
before the pizza arrived.
He gave both kids high fives as he retraced his steps through the living room and angled onto the carpeted stairway. On the second floor, he trailed past Jamie’s bedroom and then Erin’s and on toward the bedroom at the end.
He knocked, then entered at Rio’s beckoning.
His brother stood in the middle of the room, a five-pound weight in each hand and guilt on his face. “Now, look, before you lose it—”
“You just couldn’t wait.”
Rio curled his arms. “Two-point-five-pound weights, Bear? I didn’t even know those were a thing. They’ve had me using baby weights for two weeks now. Ridiculous. I think I’m ready to move up.”
If Rio had his way, he’d be ready to conquer a 5K. But darn it, was it so hard to listen to his physical therapist? “How’d you even get those in here?”
“It’s very convenient having kids, big brother. They love sneaking things for you.” He set down the weights. “Besides, I did a whoppin’ ten reps. That’s it. I don’t think my heart’s going to give out any time soon. That is, unless Rosa tries forcing fish down my throat one more time.”
“Not her fault she saw that headline about heart-healthy food. She’s just looking out for you.”
“I was shot, Bear. I don’t have high cholesterol or blocked arteries.” Rio flopped onto the rocking chair in the corner. “And no, I don’t want to play Scrabble. I want to go outside and shoot hoops. Throw a baseball around. Could even settle for a walk around the block.”
Okay, someone had cabin fever. “The walk we can do.”
Rio let out a dramatic sigh. “No. You just got home. You should relax. Go take a nap or something before supper.”
“Since when do I take early-evening naps? Rosa wants me to clean up, you want me to nap. I’m not your third child, you know.” Bickering with his brother. He’d forgotten how good that felt.
“Says the guy who’s been monitoring how much I sleep and move and eat for weeks.”
Bear started for the door. “Fine, no Scrabble.”
“Bear?”
He turned to his brother once more.
“Thank you. For everything. I know I’ve said it a hundred times—”
“Try a thousand.”
Rio’s eyes—clearer than he’d ever seen them before—shimmered with gratefulness. “I’ve meant it every time. You keep putting your life on hold. For me, for us.”
One hand gripping the edge of the bedroom door, Bear shook his head. “My life isn’t on hold, Rio. This is my life. And if you ask me, it’s an awfully good one.”
Lips pressed together, Rio nodded. And with a tap on the doorframe overhead, Bear left the room.
His own bedroom, the largest of the four, was at the other end of the hallway—the only one with an attached bathroom. He’d tried convincing Rosa and Rio to claim it, but they’d insisted he take it. He’d finally agreed, figuring if it made them feel better about the fact that he currently paid the larger half of the rent, then so be it.
But he stopped just outside his closed door. A sliver of light beckoned from underneath the door.
He pushed into the room. Stopped again.
His mystified gaze darted—purple bag at the foot of the bed, steam coming from under the bathroom door, humming coming from inside. What in the world?
And when the door opened, the biggest shock of all.
Raegan Walker.
Walking from his bathroom into his bedroom.
Wearing his T-shirt.
20
“Oh, hi, Bear.”
Raegan held a towel to her wet hair, squeezing the ends and trying to convince herself that this—showing up so out of the blue—hadn’t been the worst idea of her life. A little surprising, perhaps. Possibly bordering on intrusive. But not the worst.
Please don’t let it be the worst.
“Oh. Hi. Bear.” Bear folded his arms. And then unfolded them. And then did that thing he always did when his mind was racing—rubbed his palms on his scratchy cheeks. “You’re . . . here. And that’s all you have to say?”
She draped the towel over the bathroom doorknob. “No, it’s not all I have to say. I was just giving you a chance to say ‘hi,’ too.”
She watched his baffled gaze travel from her straggling hair down to her bare feet and back up again. “Sorry to borrow a shirt. Again. But the airline lost my luggage. I didn’t even have a layover and they somehow lost it between Des Moines and Atlanta. All I’ve got is my carry-on”—she motioned to the bag on the bed—“which is full of paints but no clothes. Wouldn’t have had to shower in the first place except this baby on the lap of the person seated next to me felt the need to spit up on me. Twice. Ruined my shirt.”
She was talking too fast, wasn’t she? Poor Bear looked like he could pass out.
No, poor Bear looked great. Every bewildered inch of him. “Maybe you should sit—”
“Maybe you should explain.”
“I would’ve used that other bathroom down the hall, but Rio said it’d be better if I used this one and I figured I should listen to him. By the way, he’s a complete carbon copy of you. And Jamie. Or, well, I mean, I guess Jamie’s a carbon copy of him. And you.”
“Rae—”
“And I know this is awkward—”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “I have a feeling it would’ve been a lot more awkward if I’d walked in ten minutes earlier.”
No point in even trying to resist her blush. Probably going to be a lot more where that warmth came from if she managed to make it through all she’d come to say. And she might as well get to it, because Bear couldn’t seem to do anything other than stand in the middle of the room and gape at her.
She crossed to the bed where her carry-on bag sat unzipped. She slid the envelope free. “At least I didn’t put this in my suitcase.” She moved to Bear and held it out.
“What’s this?”
“Open it up.”
All he had to do was glance inside to start shaking his head.
Predictable as ever. “Bear—”
“Can’t take it.”
“Sara asked me to deliver it. She said the deal was if the cabins were ready by July 1, you were due a bonus. The cabins were ready.” Thanks to literally every member of her family. They’d gone back multiple times since Mom’s birthday. Not that Bear needed to know that.
“Yeah, but I didn’t—”
She held up both palms. “If you want to argue, take it up with Sara.” They stood close enough now she could smell that faint scent of spiced pine that always seemed to cling to him. She’d taken to wandering down to the basement back at Dad’s, imagining she still smelled it even in Bear’s absence.
Just like she’d walked past Beckett’s room so many times, half expecting to see Jamie and Erin climbing on the bunk beds.
Was Bear honestly this surprised to see her? Did he truly not realize how completely and entirely he’d claimed her heart?
She’d finally begun to imagine a real future for her art. She could envision a life no longer constricted by the fear of panic attacks or constrained by grief. She could even picture making a home somewhere besides Maple Valley.
But she couldn’t imagine any of it without Bear.
“Oh, guess what, I figured out what was missing from my mural design.”
Bear stuffed the envelope in his pocket. “Huh?”
“The sunflowers. They weren’t missing, they were just wrong. In my original design, they were all wrapped around the images of the town, kind of facing inward. But sunflowers follow the sun. They should’ve been facing out. Away from town.”
Those gorgeous darker-than-chestnut eyes of his didn’t leave her face.
“Oh, and I added fireflies in, too.”
“What are you doing here, Raegan?” The timbre of his voice—soft and rich—had shifted from confusion to something else.
Something hopeful?
“I met this famous artist guy at the art festival. He likes my work—not
just the mural, but a couple other pieces I’ve done, too. Both mixed-media.”
“That’s great—”
She hurried onward before she could lose her nerve. “He offered to get me into the Rhode Island School of Design, but I asked him if he knew of any art schools in Georgia instead, and it turns out he has a friend at the Art Institute of Atlanta and . . .” She took a breath. “I’m going to check it out and apply and hopefully start during the winter semester.”
“Raegan.” He stepped forward to lightly touch her arms.
“There’s no point in arguing with me, Bear. I know all that stuff you said about not wanting your old life and new life to mix or how you couldn’t make a choice between me and Rio or . . . or whatever. But the point is, you don’t get to choose this time. Not when it comes to me. I’m taking it out of your hands. I’m staying, whether you like it or not.”
By the time the last words pushed free, she was out of breath and out of bravery. Or maybe simply out of restraint. She threw her arms around Bear’s waist and hid her face against his neck.
She didn’t know how many seconds passed—too many or maybe none at all—before Bear’s arms closed around her and his chest rumbled, something between a laugh and a gasp. And his voice, languid and soft against her hair. “Why in the world would I not like it?”
She looked up. “You’re not going to tell me to go home?”
He answered her with a kiss that wiped away any speck of doubt about this whole crazy idea—and replaced it with all the assurance she’d ever need. And hope, so much hope. He kissed her until her knees went weak and she was pretty sure she was the one who needed to sit now and—
He broke away too abruptly. “Wait a second, you flew? By yourself?”
“I’m almost twenty-seven, Bear.” She spoke between kisses on his cheek. “I’m perfectly capable.”
He laughed and held her away. “But . . . the panic attacks. You said you never travel alone because . . .”
“I didn’t before. I do now.” Because now she had tools. She had exercises. She even had a medication Sara had prescribed. She wouldn’t need it often, but it could help when she knew she was walking into situations that might trigger an attack. Sara had referred her to a therapist in Atlanta, too. She had that airline voucher Beckett had returned to her, too.