an animal.
For a moment Brendan looked as if he intended to hand Valentine to her.
But then his expression softened, and he held the bunny firmly in the palm of his hand, his fingers tapered over the rib cage. He pulled him in close to his chest, stroking Valentine’s snubby little nose with one gentle fingertip.
There was something about watching a strong man with a fuzzy bunny that could melt a person’s heart. Nora felt some terrible weakness unfurl in her at his tenderness with Valentine, in his decision to come into the light. She was annoyed with herself for feeling as if she had unintentionally given Brendan a test, and she was just as annoyed that he had passed.
“Okay, I think I remember where the little monster lives.” He put Valentine back in the cage, closed the door and turned to her.
“Deedee’s not going to take him home. I figured it out. She can’t bear the thought of being with Charlie when he dies. Though I guess we’re all wondering if he’s going to die at all. He keeps improving.”
“It’s temporary.”
“You sound certain of that.”
“I am. I wish Luke wouldn’t have taken it on. He’s setting himself up for heartbreak.”
“And he’s had enough,” Brendan guessed softly. “And so have you.”
The look in his eyes was the one she had seen that rainy night when she had come to in the horse pen, when she had reached up and touched his cheek in welcome.
A person could drown in a look like that, throw herself willingly into those deep pools of understanding.
Instead, she congratulated herself for trying to back off.
“When you work with animals that are unwell, you expect a certain amount of grief. I’ve developed strategies for not getting attached. I don’t name any of the animals.”
“You named Lafayette.”
She could say he had come named, but he hadn’t. “Who would get attached to him?” she said, a bit defensively.
“How about Valentine?”
“Okay, so the odd one slips by my guard. But now that I have this beautiful facility, I don’t ever let animals in the house. To prevent attachment, and also, where would you draw the line?”
“But Luke has Charlie in the house. And Ranger.” She bit her lip. “I know I should be stricter.”
“But you took it as a good sign that he cared about something,” Brendan guessed, and then reached forward and brushed her hair away from the bump on her head. “He cares about you. He told me he woke you up every hour on the hour.”
“He did.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Exhausted.”
“Funny, you didn’t look exhausted when I came in.”
She blushed, remembering that he had caught her dancing.
“In fact,” he said, cocking his head, listening to the music blaring, “don’t we have some unfinished business? Didn’t you ask me to dance?”
Her mouth fell open. Of course she had not asked him to dance! He knew she had been talking to the bunny! What was he doing?
What was she doing? Because she found herself playing along, again. Boldly, almost daring him, she held out her hand.
Come, then, into the light.
And felt as if the bottom was falling out of her world when he took it. Because it was only then that she recognized what darkness she had been in.
Grieving her sister. And Vance’s abandonment when she’d needed him most. Weighed down by extra responsibility. Wanting desperately to be everything Luke needed, and knowing in her heart she had been falling short.
She took Brendan’s hand and smiled at him, and it felt as if for the first time in a long, long time that smile was coming straight from her heart.
What was he doing? Brendan asked himself.
Ever since that first smile had tickled her lips, a desire had been growing in him, and it felt as if his fate was sealed when she’d giggled today. When she’d laughed, chasing that bunny through the barn.
Brendan was not sure he could ever find his way to the light, or if the light could ever penetrate the darkness around him. He was not even certain he wanted it to, because it could mean the loss of the grip he had on the pool of pain inside of him.
Still, watching the cat change, watching Charlie playing, seemed nothing short of a miracle. What had he started to believe?
However nebulous he was about what he wanted for himself, Brendan was aware of what he wanted for Nora. He wanted to make that light go on in her. He wanted something in her life to be fun and carefree.
It hit him like a ton of bricks what she needed, and why he felt so compelled by her need.
She was in the same situation his mother had once been in, a single parent struggling to be both parents, struggling to do everything right.
His mother’s struggles had shaped Brendan, made him driven, made him want things for his own family that he and his mother had not had, and could not have even dared to hope for.
Now, looking at Nora, he could see the strain in her face, the stress in the droop of her shoulders.
It looked as if it had been a long, long time since she had laughed, or had anything approaching fun in her life.
The weight of the whole world seemed to be on those slender shoulders
It was not his job to lift it, Brendan Grant told himself. He’d managed to not get tangled in the web of life for a long time. Yet the last few days…
But that begged the question about the kind of man he had become. Hadn’t he said to the boy last night that a mistake could be turned into an opportunity? To become something better?
Brendan had made a terrible mistake that night two and a half years ago.
He’d let Becky drive alone on a bad night. He should have been with her. She had begged him to go. She’d been so excited.
A pressing project at work. No, no, I’ll meet you there. I’ll come up later tonight. You’ll wake up to my handsome mug in the morning. I promise.
He hated these thoughts. He hated that he was questioning himself. That he could see light, and was being drawn toward it. He hated it that he was coming back to life.
There was no reason he had to be here anymore. Nora didn’t need him.
Except that she did.
Life was asking more of him. And there was that ironic twist again. It was asking him to show someone else how to lighten up, how to
