No Other Way: Sparks in Texas, book 4 Page 7

  Harley entered the farmhouse, walking straight upstairs to her dad’s room. It was empty, just as Granddad had said. So she searched through the rest of the rooms on the second floor before coming back downstairs.

  She’d just reached the foot of the stairs when she realized there was a slice of light coming from behind the closed door of Johnnie’s room.

  Harley approached it slowly. She hadn’t been back in Johnnie’s room since returning to Maris. Her granddad kept the door closed, and she hadn’t asked him what he had done with Johnnie’s stuff. Was it all still there or had Granddad cleaned it out? Both answers bothered her, and she had decided she didn’t really want to know.

  Slowly, she turned the knob, trying to still her racing heart. Her emotions were riding too close to the surface tonight.

  Peering around the half-open door, she blinked, trying to figure out if she was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

  Her mom and dad were sitting on the side of Johnnie’s bed, their backs to her.

  Her mom was crying, and Dad was comforting her.

  Harley stood there stunned for a full minute before she quietly closed the door, not wanting to intrude on…on what?

  What the hell was that? Her parents hadn’t spoken to each other in years, beyond a cordial hello when their paths crossed.

  Harley walked back out of the house and sank down on the top step of the porch. For twelve months, she’d mourned Johnnie’s death alone. The solitude she’d created had given her the false sense that she had been the only one grieving. It was a ridiculous feeling because she knew her grandfather had been devastated as well.

  But Harley had been too far away and too wrapped up in her own misery to acknowledge that, so she’d felt completely alone.

  Tonight proved that wrong. Proved her wrong.

  “Harley.”

  She glanced up when Granddad called her name.

  “Dad’s inside.”

  Granddad nodded. “Yeah. I just slipped in through the back door. I saw. Didn’t think to check there the first time. Near as I can tell, your dad’s never gone in there since Johnnie passed.” Granddad didn’t seem to be as dumbfounded by the discovery as she was. In fact, he didn’t look a bit surprised. Instead, he reached into his pocket. “I have something for you.”

  Harley blinked a couple of times, certain she couldn’t be seeing what her granddad was holding out to her. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think it’s time for you to take this back.”

  Granddad held a dream catcher she’d made shortly after Johnnie’s accident. She had only been a month or so into her ninth grade year when she’d fashioned the silly thing. Her summer break that year had been consumed by fear and worry and numbness as Johnnie fought for his life in the hospital—he’d only been eleven.

  How many times had she thought those words that summer?

  He’s only eleven.

  The month at the hospital was followed by the upheaval in the house as everything was rearranged so that her brother’s bedroom could be moved downstairs, and so that he could maneuver his wheelchair around the rest of the house easily.

  There hadn’t been time to go school shopping, so Harley was still using what was left of her school supplies from middle school. She was looking through her tatty book bag one day on the bus home, trying to sort out the trash from what she needed. Amongst the garbage was what she’d decided were the perfect makings for a dream catcher.

  As the bus stopped at farm after farm, she twisted some old wire and yarn together in a circle, then wove the string she and her girlfriends used to play Cat’s Cradle in a spider’s web pattern in the middle. She added some beads to the long tail she created and tied on two bird feathers she’d found on the playground during recess way back in seventh grade. Then, as a lark, she added a cactus charm she’d received as a prize from her teacher when she’d won the class spelling bee.

  The moment she stepped off the bus, she ran the entire way down the long driveway, anxious to give the dream catcher to Johnnie as a gift. She knew he dreamed of escaping the wheelchair, and she wanted the same thing as well.

  She wanted her brother back—the one who could play tag, go creek walking, climb trees, ride horses and do all the things they’d always done together. She believed the dream catcher would grant them both their greatest desire. Johnnie had been delighted by the gift and she’d hung it above his bed, as they wondered aloud how long it would take for the magic charm to work.

  However, as more time passed, it became obvious he would never walk again. Harley began to resent the dream catcher—the way it built up her childish dreams only to dash them. She had truly believed—and so had Johnnie.

  Soon she decided the thing was evil. That it was actually a talisman that captured dreams to hold them hostage and prevent them from coming true. She tried a couple of times to take it down, but Johnnie stopped her. Told her it was a gift from her and he loved it.

  She didn’t have the heart to take it from him, but it had started to serve as a constant reminder of how she’d let him down. Harley hadn’t been able to make his dream come true.

  Then that feeling revealed itself more clearly. It was her dream that hadn’t been realized. The brother who could run and play with her hadn’t returned. And that left her feeling guilty.

  The day after Johnnie died, she went into his room and ripped the dream catcher off the wall, tossing it into the trashcan in the corner.

  Seeing it now in her granddad’s hand, she realized he’d found it, taken it out of the garbage.

  “Granddad. How—”

  “I think you gave up on your dreams too soon.”

  Harley didn’t know how to reply. Her dream had been for her brother to walk again. Not only did she not get that dream, but he died. That sure as fuck hadn’t been her dream. A wave of anger bubbled up inside her.

  Granddad looked toward the front door of the house, no doubt remembering her parents in Johnnie’s room. “A lot of people gave up after that accident.”

  “I didn’t give up.”

  He smiled at her in a way that told her he didn’t agree. “Sweetheart. Your ambition in middle school was to go to college, to become a vet. And the summer after fifth grade, you playacted your future wedding in that backyard so many times, making poor Johnnie be the groom, that I had to start giving him money to continue. You drove the boy crazy with that game, but you loved it so much. Loved the idea of a fancy wedding and true love and happily ever after.”

  She laughed and cried at the memory. Then she said what she’d always felt, always believed. “It didn’t feel right for me to go off and have a life when he couldn’t.”

  Granddad shook his head. “Harley, Johnnie was the only one in this family who did have a life after that accident. He was the only one unafraid to live, the only one fighting to make every single day count. Think about it, girl.”

  Harley let her mind drift back over the years, over Johnnie’s weekly “lunch date” with Macie at Sparks. The way he “danced” in the middle of that circle in the barn. Harley always thought it was Macie leading the charge to the floor, but now that she thought about it, it was Johnnie who got everyone out there, spinning around and dancing like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  The way he raced his wheelchair all over the ranch like some sort of daredevil. The way he was never—God, never—without a smile or a joke or some sarcastic comment. He was a voracious reader, an incredible poet, and one of the smartest, most alive people she’d ever known.

  And even when he was in the hospital that last month before he died, he had looked her right in the eye and told her he’d had a good life and that he didn’t regret a thing.

  She’d pushed those words away, let her anger over his dying so young bury them deep. Maybe he didn’t regret stuff, but at the time, she’d had enough resentment for both of them.

  “You’re right,” was all she could say in reply. Granddad was absolutely right. Then, because she was a Mill
s and that meant she had too much pride to ever admit a wrong without a fight, she added, “But I am moving on. I’m renting that room at Ty’s house.”

  Granddad nodded slowly. “That’s not moving on, Harley. That’s just moving. I want to make sure you understand that it’s time to open up your heart. Dig deep. Find some new goals and maybe dust off one or two of the old ones you gave up on. Start living.”

  He held out the dream catcher. “Start dreaming again.”

  She hesitated just a moment before reaching out to take the dream catcher.

  And crazy as it seemed, the second she held it in her hand, her heart felt lighter. The pressure on her chest lifted.

  Johnnie had touched so many people. His life had mattered. To her, to Granddad, to Tyson and Caleb and Macie.

  She wanted her life to matter too.

  Aunt Ginny’s words drifted back to her, and for the first time, Harley really took them to heart.

  Have enough adventures for both of you.

  She was ready. Glancing heavenward, she silently sent up a question to her beloved brother. I can do this, right?

  In her mind, she saw Johnnie smiling at her, offering her a wink that made her feel the way it always did. Like she could take on the world and win. Then she imagined that sardonic tone of his saying, “What took you so long?”

  Hastily, she dug her phone out of her back pocket. “Found him,” she texted when she recalled that Caleb and Tyson were still frantically searching for her father. “He’s fine.”

  The guys returned and she simply explained that her dad was in Johnnie’s room and needed some privacy. Neither of them questioned it.

  And twenty minutes later, they’d loaded their instruments in Caleb’s SUV, waved goodbye to her granddad, and Harley was headed to her new home. Her new life.

  Jeannette’s happy face flashed before her, and something else that had been fuzzy and out of focus became crystal clear too.

  Caleb drove, while Tyson sat shotgun. She was in the backseat alone as they flew by trees and houses. She didn’t see any of it.

  Instead, she imagined the future she wanted. It would take some work. Hell, it would probably take a miracle.

  But she didn’t care. She’d do whatever it took.

  Because she was setting off on a new adventure.

  Chapter Six

  Tyson sat in his usual spot on the deck, coffee in hand, soaking up the stillness of Sunday morning. Harley had been quiet on the way home last night, but he figured that was to be expected. In addition to dealing with her sadness over Johnnie, she’d moved out of her childhood home.

  It had been well after midnight when they returned. She had given each of them a hug—and a soft kiss on the cheek—and then said good night.

  Tyson had sort of expected his sleep to be restless with Harley so close, but surprisingly, he’d slept deeper than he had since before she’d taken off to Florida. There was something comforting about knowing she was close. It set his mind at ease.

  At last.

  “Morning.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to find Harley standing at the French doors.

  “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

  “Interrupting?”

  She grinned. “Caleb said you have some sort of morning meditation routine you follow.”

  Tyson gestured to the Adirondack next to him. “That’s Cal’s way of saying I’m a morning person. I just like sitting out here with my coffee. It’s peaceful.”

  She sat down and glanced out across the lake. “Wow. It really is. I’ve been here before for parties and stuff, but I never really appreciated the view. Seeing it now, with the sun reflecting on the water, the mist hovering just above the surface. It’s gorgeous.”

  He watched her as she spoke and couldn’t fault her observations. This morning’s view was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. And the lake had nothing to do with it.

  “You’re right. It is.”

  Harley flushed slightly when she realized he was looking at her. She was in what he assumed were her pajamas, a faded Texas Rangers T-shirt and colorful boxer shorts. Her wavy, dark brown hair was held up in a ponytail. It had grown several inches since she’d left and he liked it longer. Her skin was naturally tanned and her thick eyelashes framed her deep brown eyes perfectly without mascara or any of that other stuff women used.

  He couldn’t force himself to stop staring. After so long apart, he felt as if he needed to figure out what had changed and what was the same with her. He’d known her his entire life, but he’d never looked at her with these eyes.

  Eyes that desired. That adored. That hungered.

  Harley turned to face him straight on. “What? Is there something on my face?”

  He blinked when he realized he was probably creeping her out. “No. I just missed you.”

  She gave him a crooked grin. “I’ve been back for two weeks, Ty, and we’ve seen each other almost constantly the past three days. I would think by this point you and Cal would be sick of me already.”

  The three of them spent one full day rearranging the furniture in his house, making room to incorporate her stuff. Then another day boxing up her clothing, her knick-knacks and whatnot at the farm, before spending most of yesterday morning lugging it all here, setting up her bedroom suite and getting her settled. Then, they’d spent hours onstage together last night. Tyson considered himself to be in good shape, but he couldn’t deny more than a few muscles were stiff and sore this morning.

  But he wasn’t sick of her. Far from it.

  “Your hair is longer.”

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion. God, he was blathering on like an idiot. If he weren’t careful, he’d start reciting freaking poetry to her.

  She reached up and played with her ponytail. “Yeah. I need to get it cut.”

  “Don’t.” Harley’s frown deepened when he added, “I like it long.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Tyson chuckled. For the past week, he’d been giving himself a constant pep talk. Something along the lines of keep your hands to yourself. Now that she was here, he couldn’t even keep his eyes to himself. And he was having a hard time remembering why he had to. “Yeah. I’m good, Harl. Really good.”

  “Jesus, not you too,” Caleb growled at Harley as he joined them on the deck. “What the hell is wrong with sleeping in on a Sunday morning? Y’all are aware it’s only eight thirty, right?”

  Harley giggled. “I was too excited to sleep.”

  “Excited about what?” Caleb asked.

  She lifted one shoulder casually. “I don’t know. Being here, I guess. Everything’s been happening so fast since I got home, I haven’t had a chance to let it all soak in.”

  Though she probably wouldn’t ever say it aloud to them, Harley hadn’t had the opportunity to try many new things. She’d devoted her life to her home, to her brother, giving up college and even a lot of opportunities to date.

  She’d had one long-term boyfriend, Juan, when he and Caleb were away at college. Juan, a carpenter, lived and worked in the neighboring town of Douglas. The relationship ended when Juan started talking marriage. Harley hadn’t been averse to it, but when she mentioned that she wanted Johnnie to come live with them eventually, Juan backed away. Which, in Ty’s opinion, showed the man’s true colors. He’d never been a Juan fan, but Harley had insisted while they were dating that he was a nice guy. She’d revised that opinion when Juan had asked Harley to choose between him and her brother.

  Tyson was glad she considered this move a good thing, something that made her happy. There was very little he wouldn’t do to put a smile on her face, to take away the pain she’d suffered since Johnnie’s death.

  God knew it made him happy to have her here. And one glance at Caleb’s amused expression told him his friend felt the same.

  “Give it a couple of weeks,” Caleb joked. “The bloom should be off the rose by then.”

  “So what’s the Sunday routine around here?”

 
Caleb looked at him and Tyson shrugged. “Not sure we have one. Life on the lake is a lot different than one on the farm. We just sort of do whatever.”

  “No chores?”

  Tyson shook his head. “We do stuff whenever we feel like it. Or whenever it needs to be done.”

  “Wow. That’s gonna take some getting used to. We all had daily chores at home. And then there was a schedule for Johnnie’s medicine and physical therapy and, even in Florida, my aunt and I had a routine of sorts. We’d have breakfast together, open the store, stock the shelves and stuff like that. After we closed, we’d take a walk on the beach and then make dinner, watch Jeopardy.” She rolled her eyes when she begrudgingly admitted that part.

  “What are you? Ninety?” Tyson teased.

  She smirked. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice to have some sort of daily plan.”

  Caleb placed his empty coffee cup on the deck beside his chair. “We do have daily plans. Monday through Friday. They’re called ‘get up and go to work’. The weekends are when we throw convention out the window and let the spirit move us where it will.”

  “Fine,” she conceded. “So where is the spirit moving you today?”

  Tyson laughed. “It doesn’t work that way. Just sit back and relax, Harley. We’re grownups now. No one is yelling at us to do our chores, and if we want to have beer and ice cream for dinner, we can.”

  She crinkled her nose. “We’re not having beer and ice cream for dinner tonight, are we?”

  Caleb snorted. “Maybe. Tell us about the plans for your store.”

  They sat on the deck for two full hours, each of them taking turns filling the coffee cups. During one of her trips for refills, Harley came back with a heaping plate of toast. Apparently the spirit had told her she was hungry.

  It was the first time since she’d returned that things between them had felt like old times. The three of them had never struggled for conversation, and while the elephant was still sitting in the corner, waiting for his turn to stomp on them, it was easy to pretend that all was well with the world again.

  “I’m so bummed I missed the bachelorette party,” Harley said after Tyson told her about the countdown to his cousin Sydney’s wedding to her high school sweetheart, Chas.