“You’re not staying here, Declan.”
He winced as she used his name. Once, she would have called him Dad.
“I am because someone is trying to scare you. Buster told me about it today.”
You’re dead, Buster Griffin.
“And Jake’s left town, so I’m staying here.”
“I can call Belle.” Where had Jake gone and when was he coming back?
“I told her I was staying with you when she called. It’s two in the morning now, Branna. Your other friends will be sleeping.”
“Fine, do what you want. I’m going to bed.” She walked past him and slapped the grocery sack down in the kitchen. Maybe all her anger wasn’t gone. Then she walked upstairs and slammed the door to her room.
The shower didn’t settle her, nor did climbing into a cold, lonely bed without Jake. How could she sleep when someone was in her house, her father, also settling in for the night? Once, she would have joined him, settled down on his bed to talk about the day, but not now, not ever again.
Sleep came because she was exhausted, and when she woke, her eyes felt heavy and gritty, but she was determined to get through the day as if her life hadn’t just been turned on its head. Jake had left Howling and her father was in her house. So much for coming here to find peace.
After her shower, she pulled on a singlet and cutoffs. She contemplated using the ladder outside her window, but thought better of it. This was her house, not his; he could leave because she was staying.
He was sitting on the porch with a coffee in one hand when she walked outside clutching hers. His hair was wet and he wore an old shirt that she remembered from when it was new and jeans with rips in the knees. His long bare feet were resting on the handrail.
“Morning.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she grunted, then walked off the porch to inspect her garden.
Part of her was struggling with being rude to him, the irrational part that had always been respectful around the man who had raised her. Yes, they’d spoken hateful words to each other when last they’d met, but this was different. He was being nice now, and although she was justified in ignoring him, or even in being cold, she didn’t like it, which made no sense at all.
“You should put in herbs.”
“I don’t know about herbs.”
“I do.”
Aren’t you the lucky one then.
“I’ve got work to do.” Branna felt his eyes on her as she walked back inside. Grabbing a cookie, she poured coffee and made for her office, shutting the door behind her. After checking her e-mails and social media sites, Branna lost herself in the world of her imagination. Two hours later, she came back to reality. She was done with her first draft and happy with the finished result so far. Hoping Declan O’Donnell was no longer lurking in her house, she made her way through it to the kitchen. Pulling a bottle of water from the fridge, Branna took off the cap and drank deeply.
He wasn’t in here; did that mean he’d gone? Heading out the front door, she walked around the house, stopping when she heard his voice.
“The soil has to be rich for the herbs to grow well, Mikey, so you need to fertilize it. But Branna’s soil is good to plant in already, which makes our job easier.”
They had their heads together, looking over a long, narrow box that had appeared along the back edge of her garden. Beside them were plants—herbs, Branna corrected—which she guessed were going into the planter box.
“Hey, Mikey, you had food?”
His smile was sweet. “Hi, Branna, I like your dad!” The boy jumped up and raced over to give her a hug, which he always did now whenever he saw her. “I’m hungry.”
“Now there’s a surprise.” Branna brushed a kiss over his head. “I’ll make you something.” Releasing him without acknowledging her father, she went back inside.
She made sandwiches, and because he was there and because that inner moral dilemma was still raging, Branna made Declan O’Donnell food too. Loading the tray with food and a pitcher of juice, she went back outside and placed it on the ground beside them.
“Eat,” she said. Her father looked at her, but said nothing. Instead, he dusted off his hands and took the sandwich Mikey held out to him.
“You going to help us plant your herbs, Branna?”
“Do you mind if I go back inside, Mikey? I have heaps of work to get through and a cake to bake before I head out tonight.”
