Home > Some Bright Someday(4)

Some Bright Someday(4)
Author: Melissa Tagg

But it had and she was and she just couldn’t see what good it would do anymore to pretend there was anything left for her here.

“Think of what you could do with it, though. You could turn it into an inn.”

“And compete with the Everwood? Which happens to be run by one of my best friends?” A friend who would be here soon. Jenessa opened the patio door and stepped outside. Yes, a few twinkle lights, some candles, the cupcakes she’d picked up at the Sugar Lane Bakery, and a couple of pizzas from Petey’s and they’d have a perfect little celebration.

“Fine, it could be a bookstore,” Paige said, following her outside. “Or a fancy restaurant—like a London tearoom where ladies wear posh hats and eat tiny sandwiches with their pinkies in the air.”

Jenessa chuckled as she righted a weathered cushion on a rattan chair. “Sometimes I forget how new you are around here. This is small-town Iowa. We don’t do posh.” Then again, Mom had thrown any number of glittering, lavish galas out in the backyard once upon a time. They’d been pretty amazing, actually—lights and music and the gorgeous splendor of Mom’s gardens. Her parents had been in their element then. They’d been . . . happy.

But that had been before Dad’s fall from grace. Before Mom’s drinking grew worse. Before . . . everything.

See, this is why you’re selling. The memories—

She halted, gaze snagging on the cottage for a moment. On one of its windows and . . . had she just seen light, a movement?

“What is it?” Paige came up beside her.

Jenessa peered across the lawn, eyes narrowing as she took in the cottage’s little wooden door, the sloping roof, the windows, each line and arch so familiar and beckoning she could almost hear Aunt Lauren’s voice.

“This can be your safe haven, too, Jen. Yours and mine. We’ll dream about a future that’s brighter than either one of us can even imagine.”

That had been Aunt Lauren—whimsical and imaginative and artsy. She’d taught Jenessa to dream in vivid color, to picture life as the beautiful adventure it could be.

If only she’d given her some warning about what happened when the dream faded. When life at thirty-five—however it might appear—just felt a little too . . . meandering. Less an adventure and more a wandering. And sometimes, a lonely one. Even with the best of friends filling her days.

“Jen?”

Paige’s voice snapped her back to the present. “Sorry, thought I saw something for a sec, but I was wrong.” Just like she’d been wrong when she’d hoped her aunt might answer her latest letter.

But no. Not once had her aunt responded to a letter, an email, a phone call. Twenty-three years of silence. No more waiting.

Jenessa exhaled and turned to Paige. “Come on, I’ve got a party to get ready for.” A gathering that might as well serve two purposes. A celebration for Mara and Marshall’s engagement . . . and her own little personal goodbye party.

To this house and that cottage and everything else best laid to rest.

 

 

3

 

 

“Sir, if you’re going to cut me from the team, I wish you’d just say so.”

Lights beamed from the windows of the Everwood Bed & Breakfast just down the lane. Blue-black shadows brushed rolling fields in the distance. Was rain on the way? The rumbling engine of Arthur Flagg’s rental sedan rose over the crunching of gravel.

Lucas was pretty sure he’d seen Kit spot the pair of them leaving the orchard. Which on its own was reason for concern, but then to find out Flagg had checked in at the Everwood? Asked Mara where to find Lucas?

Lucas might as well just give it up, spill his secrets to his family, his friends.

I haven’t been spending winters working on a fruit farm in Mexico. I’m part of Bridgewell Elite, a civilian black-ops team. I was recruited ten years ago. I started out as a regular private military contractor but now . . .

How many times had he mentally rehearsed the explanation? And how could the thought of saying the words out loud feel so tempting and so terrible all at the same time?

And why . . . why was Flagg here? Why hadn’t he said more than a few words on the ten-minute drive from the orchard to the Everwood?

“Lucas.” Flagg cut the engine with a flick of his wrist. “I’m not here to let you go.”

“Then why—”

“But I’m not here to call you back either.”

Lucas could only stare at the older man. Flagg’s hair was grayer than when he’d last seen him and new creases had joined the web of wrinkles in his face. His was a weathered sturdiness, and the glint in his pale blue eyes was as compassionate as it was firm.

Compassion—that was always the thing that undid Lucas. Because he didn’t deserve it. Just like he didn’t deserve any of Flagg’s kindness. Not after all he’d done. Not with those two words marring his record—dishonorable discharge.

But Flagg had a soft spot for ex-soldiers, convicts, scarred men with blemished pasts—all of which described Lucas.

“I’m supposed to be at a friend’s house now. I need to change.” He was already late. He pushed his door open and slid from the vehicle. The lofty, three-story Victorian house tucked away on a small homestead, encircled by a grove of dogwood and shagbark trees, had become as familiar to him as his childhood home.

Flagg’s steps sounded in the grass behind him. “I know it’s probably been killing you—not hearing from me. I’ll admit, Danby, I’ve been struggling to know what the right course is when it comes to you.”

Lucas climbed the porch stairs, no longer as rickety as they’d been when he first moved in. “If this is about Courtney, sir, I swear I didn’t realize . . . I didn’t know . . .” Hadn’t a clue his teammate had developed . . . feelings for him.

It’d all been so ridiculous. He’d been in the hospital after getting shot and she’d come to visit. Had kissed him and he’d overreacted, practically pushing her into the nurse who’d come into the room and—well, everything had gotten awkward from there. Frankly, he’d been more than a little relieved when Flagg had suggested a longer hiatus post-mission this time.

But to let something like that break up the team indefinitely? When they had so many years of successful missions under their belts?

Lucas stepped over the Everwood’s threshold and moved to the open staircase.

Flagg followed—relentless. “Why would it be about Courtney? Please don’t tell me—”

“Nothing happened.” Save a working relationship turned uncomfortable. But Court would’ve gotten over it by now, right? She was a professional. “And if it’s not that—”

“You didn’t have to take that bullet in Venezuela, son.”

Lucas paused halfway up the stairs.

“You broke protocol. You took a risk no one asked you to take. You could’ve blown the operation.”

“But I didn’t.” The raid had been successful and they’d managed to bust up the entire cartel without any hint of the U.S. government’s involvement—the whole point of their team.

He finished climbing the stairs and reached his room in seconds, Flagg just behind him. The familiar scents of cedar and clean linens tugged him forward. It was a simply arranged room—queen bed, chest of drawers, closet in the corner. But there was something satisfying about the space. Maybe it was the fact that he’d painted it himself during the months Mara and Marshall had worked to renovate the bed and breakfast.

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