“But you never gave a thought of how it was for me?” Darcy demanded. “I lost two brothers in the space of a couple of months and then I had to step into your shoes. Ed and Georgie slept in our room for months after you left and I had to constantly reassure them I wasn’t going anywhere. Then Dad needed me to do all your chores on the farm as well as my own. For the first year I kept thinking you would come back any day and then life would get better.” He shook his head. “Then I knocked up Sofia and knew life would never be the same.”
The guilt threatened to drown Brandon. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” Darcy said. “Instead of facing up to your mistake, you ran. We could have supported each other. Mum was a complete wreck until Lara was born and slowly she started living again.”
Brandon swore. “I didn’t know.” Hadn’t wanted to know.
They both studied the shell of Darcy’s house. Darcy ran his hand through his hair and replaced his hat. “It’s too late now.”
He was right. It was all in the past. Brandon had to fix the future.
“When do you have to go back?”
The plan to leave straight after the funeral was no longer appealing. He wasn’t leaving his family in this mess. “I can probably get a couple of weeks if I call my Lieutenant Colonel.” Sam’s words whispered in his head. Was it time to get out? “I won’t go until we discover who killed Mum and Dad.”
“And the station?”
“I’m not selling it,” Brandon reiterated. “We’ll figure out what to do together. You’ve got as much say, more so, than I do.”
“That’s right.” There was a hint of a smile. “And don’t you forget it.” Without waiting for a response, Darcy headed towards the house.
A weight lifted from Brandon’s shoulders and he stumbled, a little dizzy. The smile was an echo of the Darcy he remembered. Had he really forgiven Brandon so easily? No, it was foolish to believe it would be that easy, but for the first time, he thought they might have a chance to reconcile.
And Brandon wouldn’t let him down again.
***
Amy held her breath as Darcy and Brandon walked into the lounge. Neither had black eyes, cuts or bruises so maybe their confrontation hadn’t been as bad as she feared. Brandon was trained to kill and she’d been a little worried about Darcy. Though perhaps Brandon used her father’s method and used words to wound instead.
“You two finished your tiff?” Georgie asked.
“I don’t tiff,” Darcy said.
“Men don’t tiff,” Brandon said.
Darcy grunted, but his small smile showed the tension between the two brothers had broken.
Amy exhaled. She hated conflict, disliked seeing the normally happy Darcy so angry.
“Whatever,” Georgie said. “You don’t look as if you’re about to punch each other, so that’s a win. We’ve got enough photos for the slideshow,” she continued. “Why don’t you sit down, and Ed and I can tell you what we’re thinking?”
They sat on opposite sides of the couches and Amy smothered a smile. For all that Georgie was the youngest, she did know how to wrangle her brothers. Lara moved next to Darcy and he wrapped an arm around her. Lara was clingy, but the situation called for comfort. Amy wished Beth was here to hug her and tell her things would be all right. She stood. “I’ll organise dinner.” It wasn’t her place to arrange the funeral.
“Thanks, Ames,” Darcy said.
A small part of her wished they’d invite her to stay which was ridiculous. She wasn’t family, she didn’t know Beth and Bill as well as they did. Besides they didn’t realise she’d had experience arranging a funeral. Her mother’s had been long enough ago that things had probably changed anyway. She wandered down the corridor to the kitchen.
The house felt empty without Beth in it. She had been a presence either through the eighties music she listened to constantly, or the delicious scents floating from the kitchen because something was always baking or cooking.
Amy got ingredients out of the fridge for a soup and remembered the moment with Brandon earlier. He was an enigma—one moment gruff and stand-offish, and the next… well, pressed up against him had felt safe and arousing at the same time. He was such a presence.
A huff outside the kitchen door revealed Bennet lying in the doorway panting a little in the heat. Strange Matt hadn’t taken him with him. She checked his bowl was full of water and let him inside the cool house.
As if she’d conjured him, Matt appeared from around the corner and climbed the steps. She held the door open. “Fix the fences?”
“Yeah. Is Darce around? I need to talk to him.”
“They’re all in the lounge finalising funeral arrangements.”
