A Promise Of Home (A Lake Howling Novel Book 1) (7 page)

“Don’t hold back.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, Branna O’Donnell. That man should come with a warning, he’s so cute.”

He was, but Branna wasn’t about to acknowledge the fact.

“Have you and he?” Branna waved her hand about.

Belle sighed. “No. We thought about it, but both decided it would just be wrong as we’re more like brother and sister.”

“His sister was my age, if I remember right. She wasn’t like him, though, kind of serious and into sports, right?” Branna said.

“Katie, she’s in L.A. at the police academy.”

“The siblings have got that whole services thing going on.”

“Surprising, really,” Belle said. “Neither parent followed that path.”

After Jake, they talked about Belle and what she’d been doing since school, but like her, Annabelle Smith wasn’t an open book when it came to her family. Branna knew she had two brothers and they’d lived with her uncle after her mother died. Her uncle was a gambler and hopeless guardian and Belle had pretty much raised her brothers herself.

“I’m a writer now,” Branna said.

Belle gave her a long look before saying. “Just like your daddy.”

“I don’t write under my name,” Branna added, not wanting to draw any parallels between herself and her father, although there were a few of them to make, if you looked closely.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Branna knew very well what Belle wanted.

“What name do you write under?”

“Rosanna Howlling, two LL’s,” Branna added.

Belle whistled loud and long. “Even I’ve heard of you, and I’m more of a magazine girl. The people of Howling already worship your daddy because he’s famous and as shallow as we are, there’s no other reason. But you,” Belle laughed. “You’re going to get the keys to the town when they realize who you are.”

“Don’t tell them,” Branna pleaded.

“Oh, now even you can’t imagine that information is not going to get out and spread like wildfire.”

Her shoulders slumped. Hell, yes, Branna knew they’d find out; there was nothing sacred in Howling.

“Surely, it’s good if they know? Don’t you want to sell more books?”

“Maybe…yes, hell, Belle, I just want to live here peacefully and integrate back into the community.”

“And you will, just as a celebrity,” Belle said, her eyes twinkling.

Branna muttered something unflattering, which made her friend laugh. She couldn’t remember a day she’d enjoyed more as she sat there with her old friend. They drank coffee and talked, and it felt like the times they’d shut themselves in her bedroom and stayed there for hours.

“So, got a microphone in your hands any time in the last few years?” Belle questioned, which made Branna shudder.

“No, and I only played in the school band because you cheated in that bet, Annabelle Smith.”

“I did not cheat, O’Donnell, and you know it. I was just the better card player of the two of us.”

“You hustled me, Smith, plain and simple. ‘Come on Bran, if you beat me at cards then you don’t have to join the band with me; surely that big brain of yours can do that.’” Branna remembered the bet like it was yesterday; Annabelle had duped her, big time.

“Hey,” Belle lifted her hands in the air. “I didn’t have to disclose that my uncle played poker for a living; we didn’t set out rules or anything.”

“Ha, ha,” Branna poked out her tongue. “So, to answer your question, no, I have never again sung a note, unless it’s in the shower…alone,” she added. “That band thing traumatized me.”

“Shame,” Belle got to her feet. “You sure could sing.”

Branna rose too.

“So, we’ve got this friend thing going again, Bran, you got that?” Belle said leaning on the doorframe. “No more bailing on me without a word, no more secrets; you remember the rules, right?”

“I got it.”

Belle hugged her hard. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, and I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”

“That’s okay, I was fairly busy having sex and going to wild parties in Portland at nursing school to give you too much thought,” Belle added. “Now, remember, you don’t take that sling off until the doc tells you to, and nothing that strains your brain for a few days.”

“I got that message from Jake,” Branna said, thinking of his scowl.

“Oh, and before I go, I thought you should know they’re forming a high school reunion committee, so run if you see anyone coming towards you with a clipboard.”

“High school was an hour and half from here on a slow yellow bus. Why is anyone from Howling organizing it?”

“Two words, Macy Reynolds.”

“She’s still here? Wow, I was sure she would have gone on to win a Miss something contest and marry a movie star.”

“Howlers don’t stray far, Bran, as is evidenced by your return.” Belle flicked up a hand and then she was gone, leaving Branna smiling.

The smile was still on her face when she climbed the stairs to go to bed. Three years she’d lived here in Howling and at the time, she’d thought them some of the worst and best of her life. She’d been angry after the death of her mother and hurting because her father had turned away from her in his grief, but here she’d found friends. Branna had believed she’d never be a real Howler, because she’d been born in Ireland, but maybe she was wrong. Belle had said Howlers don’t stray far from home, and she’d been talking about her, Branna O’Donnell.

Climbing into bed, she turned off the lamp and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stay, or even if she would, but for now, this was the right place for her to be…right here under Georgie’s roof.

“I’m here, Georgie,” she whispered. “Let your soul rest easy, my friend.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“I like this one better than last week’s mystery muffin, Buster, what’s in it?”

“The key word there, Branna, is mystery.”

She was sitting in the corner of The Hoot, Buster’s cafe, at one of the tables he had set up to look out the big window to the mountains and redwoods beyond. It was early, and the day crisp, but in here it was warm, especially with one of Buster’s coffees and a muffin in front of her. She’d been back two weeks now, and life was starting to settle into a routine.

“But you can’t keep it as a mystery muffin if it’s going to be a regular in your cabinets,” Branna protested.

“It won’t.”

“What? Why?” She looked down at the piece she had left. It had to be a regular or she’d never get to taste it again.

Buster’s sigh could have felled a forest. “Branna, we’ve had this discussion four times, and you’ve only been back in town two weeks. The mystery muffins are a treat for those game enough to try them; they’re not a regular thing.”

“Give me the recipe then, so I can make it again.”

The loud scoffing sound coming from behind the cabinets made her frown.

“I can bake.”

“Annabelle told me you burn things,” Buster said.

She rolled her eyes, even though Buster couldn’t see her. “One thing, when we were in high school. I burnt the popcorn and she had to take the blame as we were in her house and her uncle wasn’t too happy with the smell.”

“That’s not how I heard it.” Buster appeared behind the counter. Those beautiful eyes narrowed. The man had the longest lashes she’d ever seen; women would pay good money for those.

“I can cook, I tell you, and one day I’m proving it,” Branna gave him a glare.

Branna had always felt comfortable around Buster, and that hadn’t changed. She came in here to sit in silence and read. If he chose to talk, they did; if not, he grunted hello and good-bye, and that was where it ended.

“You better have those pies cooked, Griffin!”

She hadn’t seen him since the day he stormed out of her house, and now there he was, standing just inside the door with the sun surrounding him. The table she sat at wasn’t tucked completely out the way of the door, so she had a partial view of Jake McBride, big and beautiful, eyes narrowed and looking downright unsociable as he entered.

“You’re early; I just pulled them from the oven.” Buster disappeared back into the kitchen as he spoke.

“Had some stuff to do in town and my stomach is gnawing on itself, so feed me.” He saw her then, and she was certain he would have walked back out if the pie wasn’t important to him. He gave her a nod, but didn’t add any words.

Another scruffy T-shirt stretched across his shoulders, this one bearing some army slogan, and he’d pulled on cargo shorts that had seen better days, on his feet he wore trainers, also worn. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, but as neither of them was inclined to speak, they both let it settle into a heavy thickness.

“Jake, this is Branna.”

Jake snorted as Buster appeared with a tray of sandwiches. “You want coffee? I’m making Branna another one.”

“Ah, sure,” he shot her a look. “How’s the head?” The words were thrown at her in a dismissive way, as if to say, I don’t give a shit, but anyway…

“Good, thank you.” Branna then reeled off the high school pledge, and named three of her teachers, remembering how he’d asked her those questions the other day, and she’d been unable to answer them.

“Nice,” he looked at the chair across the table from hers, then pulled it out and folded his large body into it. “What about the wrist?”

“Your mom said I had to wear the brace for a while yet, because of the damage I’ve done to some things inside.”

“Tendons and ligaments,” he said.

Buster dropped a plate loaded with food in front of Jake and a mug of steaming black coffee before each of them.

“He won’t tell me what’s in the mystery muffin,” Branna said, filling the silence, because now that Jake was close and looking at her with those intent black eyes, she felt uncomfortable. In fact, she wanted to squirm in her seat.

She’d been like this in school when he was near; her face used to flush and she’d feel off balance. Branna hadn’t wanted to be infatuated by Jake McBride. In fact, she’d done everything she could not to be, but nothing had helped. So, she’d tried to avoid him or have a really bad attitude whenever he approached her, but nothing had worked.

There was no doubting that he’d been hot in school, but there’d been other equally handsome boys too, but it was Jake that had got to her, Jake that she’d secretly lusted after with the ferocious heart of a teenager.

“Mystery is the key word there, Branna.”

“Buster said that.”

“Well then, he’s probably right.”

She watched as he ate half the pie in one bite. His teeth were large and white and Branna had the disturbing vision of them nibbling on her ear.

“I’m sorry!” She hadn’t meant to say it so loudly, but she knew she needed to apologize, and now was as good a time as any.

His dark brows rose at her words. “About what?”

“For the way I treated your mother and Belle, the way I treated you when I should have been thanking you for looking after me and instead was being awkward and ungrateful.”

His smile wasn’t the light your face kind that it used to be, but she saw a glimpse of the boy she once knew.

“I do awkward and ungrateful. My best friend’s the master at it and as it turns out, I’ve perfected it myself over the last few years,” Jake said.

“Valid point,” these words came from the depths of the kitchen, confirming Buster’s status as Jake’s best friend.

“Still, please accept my apology anyway.”

He did that other disturbing thing he’d done in school then, looking at her as if he could read every thought spinning around in her head.

“Accepted. It’s not like I wasn’t prepared.”

“Prepared?” Branna questioned.

“You weren’t up for Miss Congeniality in school, Rosebud, so I figured unless you’d had a personality transplant, not much had changed.”

“I was fifteen!” Branna literally spluttered out the word. “You show me any kids of that age who are congenial! And, furthermore, I didn’t have the compulsion that you had back then to have everyone fall at my feet. You went through your days flashing that smile at any unsuspecting female, or male for that matter, and being bloody accommodating to everyone but me; it was enough to bring up a person’s lunch!”

Buster’s laughter sounded like a rusty hinge.

“And there was me thinking you hadn’t noticed me in school; fair warms my heart to see how wrong I was,” Jake drawled. “And, for the record,” he leaned closer to Branna. “I tried to be accommodating, you just didn’t reciprocate.”

He was deliberately taunting her, and yes, she should laugh and brush it off, but the cold look in his eyes told her that to him there was no humor involved. His mood was dark and he wasn’t about to sugar coat anything, especially not to her. In fact, if she got up and left, Branna was fairly certain, it would just about make his day.

“Hard to believe the man before me is the same boy I once knew,” Branna said, hitting back at him. She didn’t understand what had happened to Jake McBride, but something had and it had shaved off all his light edges and replaced them with dark ones. “You sure grew up different from what I imagined.”

“Well, I guess shit happens to all of us, Rosebud, even the golden boys.”

He was angry, even though his voice sounded like he was messing with her, and it wasn’t recent anger either, this was deep-seated. Branna understood what she was seeing in him, because she’d battled it for years herself.

“I never said I thought of you as a golden boy.”

“It was implied.”

“Like hell,” Branna snapped.

“Well, at least you stayed the same. Belligerent, rude, and you still got that flower child look going.” Shards of black ice ran over her from top to bottom, as he took in her loose flowing top, faded cutoffs, and leather sandals.

Branna had taken years to put the emotions from her past in a place that could no longer hurt her, but looking at this man, she felt them return; she felt the helpless anger and confusion of her time at Howling resurface. Swallowing a large mouthful of coffee, she took a few seconds to get herself back under control. There was no way she would allow Jake McBride to provoke that kind of reaction in her again…ever.

“Listen, McBride, I think we’ve established we weren’t buddies in school, and I’m fairly confident that’s not going to change anytime soon, even with your new hot, bad boy, I don’t give a fuck attitude.” Branna kept her voice level. “So, here’s the thing, thanks for looking after my head and putting on the polite act that day, but in the interest of us both finding some peace in this town, how about we agree to stay the hell away from each other?”