The Way Home by Jean Brashear Read Free Book Online Page A

a mug shot.”
    Sam exhaled, then got to his feet. “All right. Let’s go outside where the light is better.”
    Jane followed suit. Touched her fingertips to his arm gently. “Thank you.”
    “Let’s see if you’re so grateful later,” he said gruffly. He halted. “But one part is nonnegotiable. No one gets to know where you are. All inquiries have to come through me.”
    She studied this gentle bear of a man who’d gone the extra mile for her, again and again, and forcibly she restrained her impatience. What was a day or two or even three, in the face of a lifetime? “All right.” She smiled and rose to her toes to kiss his cheek. “My Saint George, ready to fight the dragon.”
    But he didn’t smile back. “This might not work, Jane. Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t want you hurt.”
    Too late, she thought. But to him, she only nodded. “I have to try.”
    His sigh was long and low. “I understand.” He lifted his camera and snapped one shot before she was ready.
    “Hey!”
    He grinned. “That one’s for me.” He pointed to the flower bed she’d worked on all day yesterday. “How about there?”
    I could fall for this man, she mused. As she settled in place before the hollyhocks and chrysanthemums, a sudden shiver shook her, and she nearly backed out. What if the image that had come to her was a movie or a dream? How could she know what she would be walking into? What she had here was safe and fine. Maybe she should just wait.
    No. She steeled herself and faced the camera.
    However safe, this was not her life.
     
    T HAT NIGHT , the silent house rebuked him.
    Not that James was accustomed to coming home before dark the past several months, and Bella had worked many nights herself. He tried to remember the last time they’d shared an evening meal. She’d had clients to meet and houses to show. He’d had endless spreadsheets and financial reports to comb through, seeking a miracle. His assistant, Julie, had put in long hours, too, working by his side. They’d been a good team, and he’d appreciated having someone to share his worries with, someone who knew the company inside out. Someone who didn’t depend on him to put on a brave face.
    It had begun with a neck rub. How trite. How goddamn stupid.
    He opened the refrigerator and stared inside, attempting to conjure up an appetite.
    But thinking about his one fall from grace had curdled his stomach. That it had been only one occasion was cold comfort. That he’d felt like slime immediately after made his crime no less. He hadn’t intended it; no, hadn’t encouraged Julie. Hadn’t, if the truth be told, even realized she had a crush on him.
    He’d just been so damn lonely—and scared.
    And that might be his greatest sin—that he hadn’t sought Bella out, hadn’t bared his soul to her. Had entrusted secrets to a virtual stranger instead of the woman who’d been his life.
    Do you see who we’ve become, James? We’re your parents. I’m the Stepford Wife, and you’re the bastard who cheats on her.
    I don’t know which is harder to forgive.
    Once they’d been so close they practically shared breath. Back in the days when they’d struggled to scrape together enough pennies to buy a cheap bottle of wine or splurge on a fast-food meal.
    They’d made it through the dark times, three miscarriages in four years, and the heartache of hopes lifted, only to be dashed soon after. The evenings he’d witness her struggle to smile past her grief while he’d battle back his own despair to comfort her. Days, weeks, months of pain…but they’d endured. Never lost touch.
    He closed the refrigerator door, his mind adrift in the past…
     
    B ELLA LAY curled in the center of the bed, the shades drawn, casting the space into gloom. He didn’t even have to ask what had happened; after three miscarriages and countless monthly disappointments, he knew.
    For a second, he prayed for strength…
    And the right words, though in truth, there were