is is a threat? Dog, you are a challenge.”
He went to the door, opened it in the instant before Amy heard a footstep on the wooden porch. Cutter leaned but didn’t move, and Amy could see his nose flexing as he sniffed eagerly. Yet he didn’t leave Hayley. She marveled at the workings of his canine mind even as she glanced back toward the door with building curiosity.
She heard a voice, low and unintelligible, except she thought she heard Quinn’s name.
“You son of a bitch.”
Quinn threw a punch so quickly Amy barely saw his arm move. She heard the thud of something hitting the boards of the porch. Someone.
Stunned, Amy froze. Cutter growled, but didn’t move. At least, not until Hayley did. When she ran to Quinn’s side, Cutter moved as if he were Velcroed to her side.
Amy rose, but hesitated. This might be some family thing; she should stay out of it. Obviously what threat there was Quinn had dealt with it.
But then Hayley gasped. “Walker?”
Amy’s heart nearly stopped.
No wonder Quinn had clobbered him.
Walker Cole rubbed at his jaw. At least it wasn’t his nose, he thought, which had already been broken twice before, once in each direction. As a result it was still fairly straight, but you could feel the kinks where it had healed.
And that, he thought, was probably the stupidest thing he could be thinking about just now.
Gingerly, he got to his feet. He kept a wary eye on Quinn—he’d had no doubt from the instant the big man had opened the door who he was—but his attention was focused on the woman now beside him.
Hayley.
His baby sister.
The only family he had left.
The one person left in this life he loved unreservedly.
She was staring at him in shock. And why not? He hadn’t been home in over five years now, since he’d stopped here before heading to Chicago, the Great Lakes. All had been well then, their mother healthy, Hayley happy in her job in Seattle, and he hadn’t felt a qualm at moving on when the walls started to close in.
He hadn’t realized he’d never see Mom again.
He hadn’t planned on anything that had happened after that last visit.
“Hi, sis,” he said finally, and it sounded lame even to his ears.
She shook her head as if she were at a loss for words. And the dog. When had she gotten a dog? Or was it her new husband’s? Whichever, he wasn’t liking the way it was staring at him, as if it couldn’t decide whether to welcome him or go for his throat.
Walker glanced at the man beside her, now with his arm protectively around her shoulders.
“If you’re expecting an apology, you won’t get one,” her husband said coldly.
Slowly, he shook his head. He studied the man for a moment. He’d met men like this, had learned to assess them. “No. I had that coming.”
Quinn drew back slightly, looking like a man whose car suddenly made an unexpected sound. Walker glanced at his sister. And she finally spoke.
“I don’t know whether to hug you or slug you myself.”
His mouth quirked. “I’ll gladly take the latter if it gets me the former.”
That did earn him the hug, and she let him hold it for longer than he’d dared hope. For a moment he simply couldn’t speak. Hayley had been his most ardent defender for so long, but even her devotion had to have run out years ago. He would never forgive himself for that, and he doubted she would, either. Not when he couldn’t tell her why.
But that didn’t stop him from savoring every second of this. He’d never have thought this could be so precious, never thought just holding his sister close again could make him ache so much. Moisture stung his eyes, and he tried hard to blink it away. He tightened his embrace, half-afraid he’d hurt her, but again she let him. Maybe she felt the little tremors going through him, and was too kindhearted to pull away when he was shaking under the impact of a simple hug after the years of cold distance.
“Who’s the furry one?” he asked when he finally had to end the contact that had warmed him more than anything in the past five years.
“This is Cutter,” Quinn answered. “And I’d hold off petting him. He hasn’t decided about you yet.”
But you have, Walker thought. And I don’t blame you.
“I suppose you’d better come in,” Hayley said, her words and tone telling him he was far from forgiven. He’d expected that. She had every right, after all.
“Are you sure?” Quinn asked her, sounding as if he would happily toss Walker into the sound.
“He’s my brother,” she said simply. “I can’t just throw him out.”
Quinn made a sound Walker suspected was disagreement with that. But he stood aside and let Walker through the doorway.
The house had changed. It startled him, but he should have expected it. He swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat as it was pounded home to him that his mother was truly gone. This house that she had made the near-perfect home of his childhood would never ring with her laughter again. And he hadn’t treasured it or her nearly as much as he should have. And now he would never see or hear her again, except in memories.
Pain dug at him, burrowing deep. He’d thought himself prepared for this, but he’d been wrong. Very wrong.
He looked at Hayley, made himself face her even knowing she couldn’t miss the wetness in his eyes. The initial shock was ebbing and she held his gaze, her expression unreadable even to him, who had once been able to read her so well. He knew there was every chance he might never earn her forgiveness, that he may have lost his sister forever.
Along with his mother. For an instant the house seemed empty despite their presence. She had always so filled this home she and his father had built together.
“Why did you stay?” he asked, barely aware of saying it aloud.
“This is home,” Hayley said, her voice tight. “I feel closer to her here. Not that you’d understand. Running away is more your style.”
He winced. As far as she knew, she was right. Once, his first instinct would have been to get away from the constant reminders, as it had been when his father had died.
“That was before I realized there is no getting away from some things,” he said quietly.
For an instant something shifted in her gaze, as if she’d sensed the pain behind the words. Whether it mattered to her or not, he couldn’t tell. His sister had ever been kindhearted, but even the kindest heart could only take so much desertion.
