Circle on Home (Lost in a Boom Town Book 5)

Circle on Home

MJ Fredrick
 

Copyright 2016
 

Mary Fechter

DEDICATION

For my mom

You are the best example any woman could have.

Prologue

July

Miranda Bonner strolled the square of Evansville, Texas, beneath the red, white and blue banners that hung from the streetlights and storefronts. Her hometown, the one she couldn't wait to get away from when she was younger, now held so much charm.
 

She had traveled around the world, had lived in New York City, London, Rio, but something about Evansville…

Maybe it was the obvious changes—the new store on the corner, the Sagebrush Saloon, the newly finished Sagebrush Inn, the beauty salon. Everything felt fresh and revitalized. And everyone was friendly, everyone knew her name and made a point of greeting her. What had been overwhelming and intrusive when she was younger felt warm and homey now.
 

Then her past walked right in front of her. She took a step back on her heel as she looked at Noah Braun, the boy she’d walked away from when she was eighteen and eager to shake the dust from her shoes. A boy no longer, his shoulders had grown broader, stretched out his cotton snap-front shirt. His dark hair, which he’d worn to his shoulders in high school, now brushed the collar of his shirt, and curled all over, in loops she’d love to run her fingers through.

She closed her hands into fists at the totally inappropriate though. She was with Damian now, though he’d stayed in New York for this trip. She knew he’d be bored, and dismissive of the small-town vibe.
 

Maybe the absence of his disdain was why she was enjoying this visit so much.
 

The disloyal thought made her tighten her fists further. But she was more relaxed, not having to worry if Damian was bored with the slow pace and the limited activities, not worrying if he was annoyed by her mother and sister’s constant chatter. She was actually enjoying spending time with her family instead of feeling torn in two directions.

Though the sight of Noah was putting her on edge again. She eased back, so he wouldn't see her, and she could watch him. He bent his head toward his younger sister, Selena, who was about half his size, her round face tilted toward him, excitement etched in every feature. Miranda’s heart squeezed. Noah had always been particularly tender to his baby sister, who had Down’s Syndrome. Seeing him the same way, after all his family had been through, fourteen years later, warmed her heart.
 

Then he looked up and saw her, as if he’d known she was there the whole time. She sucked in a breath at the heat in his gold-flecked brown eyes, which banked quickly when she was too shocked to do more than stare. Or maybe it was because he remembered she’d run away when he needed her most.
 

“Miranda.”

“Hi, Noah.” She did smile, then, when she turned to Selena. “Hi, Selena. Do you remember me?”

The younger woman’s face brightened even more, and she enveloped Miranda in an enthusiastic hug.
 

“Miranda!”

She smelled the same, and Miranda didn't know why that surprised her. She curled her arms around the girl and bent her head. She had missed the girl, with her generous heart and her sweet smile. She’d always been amazed by how Selena kept positive, despite the turmoil of her home life. Noah had shielded her from most of the drama, but Miranda supposed he didn't have to do that anymore.
 

She loosened her hold on Selena and looked up at Noah. His eyes had lost any warmth they’d had when he’d first seen her.
 

“I didn't expect to see you here,” he said.
 

“I just came down for the week.”
 

“Where are you now? Last I heard, London.”

That had been over five years ago. She brushed aside the annoyance that he hadn't kept up with the gossip. “I’m in New York.”

“Practicing law?”

“Yes.”

His gaze flicked to her left hand, and a pulse of heat rolled through her. Was he checking to see if she was married?

“Like it?”

A moment passed before she realized he was asking about her job. “Yes, I like it.” Did she, though? “I’m doing corporate law.”

His lips thinned. “Not exactly what you dreamed of doing.”

No, she hadn't started out wanting to be a lawyer, but she’d found she was good at it. And it was nice not to worry about money. Sure, she worked long hours and she hated most of her clients, but she was talented and in demand, and that was rewarding.

Selena was getting restless and looking around, wanting to move on, but Miranda wasn't ready to end the conversation yet. “And you? You like being a vet?”

His face didn't reflect any surprise that she knew what he did. “Yeah, you know. Always knew what I want.” And his eyes told her that he’d wanted her. She knew that, knew she’d broken his heart when she walked away, but she’d had to save herself.
 

She had been young and desperate, and not strong enough to stand by his side.

She wanted to ask about his dad, but here in the middle of the town square probably wasn't the place.
 

“I’m—going to take Selena to ride the Tilt-a-Whirl,” he said, gesturing to the ride set up in front of the courthouse.
 

She understood that he was dismissing her and she stepped back to let them walk away. But the rest of the day, she was aware of him, watching him watch his sister ride the rides, buying her cotton candy, wondering what might have been if she’d stayed.

She’d be a different person, that was for sure. Maybe she’d have big hair and wear blinged-out clothes, she wouldn't be a lawyer, or at least not a successful one.
 

But she’d be waking up every morning in that man’s bed.

Would they have kids? Would he be watching them with the same peaceful expression that he watched Selena?
 

Okay, maybe coming home had been a bad idea. She didn't want to have these what-if fantasies about an old love. She had a good life.
 

Chapter One

November

      Early morning sunlight glinted off of the metal bus that swayed on its way down the pitted dirt road. Every now and then the plume of dust billowing in its wake would swirl forward to obscure it from his view, but Noah Braun knew it was coming, bringing his father home after fourteen years. He set his coffee cup down on the kitchen counter and stepped out onto the front porch to meet him.

Through the screen door he heard his brother Ben stumble out of his room and into the bathroom. He didn’t bother closing the door as he relieved himself, didn’t wash his hands once he was done. He was long past the age of scolding, but Noah found himself biting back a remark as he watched the bus move closer, gliding silently across the dusty landscape.

He could hear Ben slamming around in the kitchen, though, going through cabinets like he didn’t know where the coffee mugs were. He was probably trying to wake their sister Selena, just to piss Noah off.

Ben hadn’t been a joy to be around since he got laid off from the oil fields, and their father’s release from prison made him downright ill-tempered. Noah could think of no words strong enough to describe Ben since he’d found out their father was coming home, and he held Noah responsible for bringing him here.

“You got the place cleaned up pretty nice for the old man,” Ben said through the screen, his voice rough with sleep and drink. “Almost like you’re glad to see him.”

“I’m not fighting with you about this,” Noah said, his voice pitched low, weariness weighing him down. Seemed like they’d done nothing but fight since they got the letter from the Department of Corrections telling them their father qualified for early release because of model behavior, despite the fact that he’d killed a family of four, and their mother, while driving drunk Noah’s senior year of high school. “This is his home. It’s the right thing to do.”

“He’s just going to screw it up again, and make us all miserable in the process. Don’t you remember anything about growing up with the man?”

As the oldest, he should remember the most, but he’d blocked a lot of it out, the yelling, the drunken binges, the hitting.
 

“If we keep the booze away,” Noah reasoned.

“Just another reason to welcome him home with open arms,” Ben said with an empty laugh.

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to cut back.”

“Yeah, well.” Ben raised his coffee cup to his mouth, blew on the steaming liquid. “We can’t all be saints like you.”

Saint. Like he had a choice. As the oldest, he had to be the strongest, now and fourteen years ago.

The bus’s brakes engaged with a blast of dust as it slowed at the end of their long driveway. Grateful for small favors, Noah figured at least out here in the middle of nowhere, they wouldn’t have a ton of nosy neighbors watching their reunion.

He’d considered walking out to meet the bus, had pictured himself doing it, but couldn’t bring himself to take the first step. He and Ben stood stock still as the doors of the bus slid open with a release of air, hell, probably the only air for miles. God knew he couldn’t breathe.

Rey Braun stepped down on unsteady legs, a shadow of the man he’d been, the big man who’d once awed his sons, the man who’d laughed and loved with the same passion with which he drank and fought.

Noah remembered the man who’d tossed him in the air with white teeth gleaming in his brown face, his long black hair gleaming in the Texas sun. He remembered the man who’d held him on his first horse, the man who’d kissed his mother with all the passion in his heart, who’d hit her the same way.

Now his once muscular frame was bent and scrawny, making him smaller than either Noah or Ben, his hair shorn and liberally sprinkled with gray. He shuffled a few steps away from the bus after the door closed, his head lowered, then he looked up at the old Victorian house, which he’d moved out here over thirty years ago.

Noah stepped off the porch into the sunlight, yards of dirt and fourteen years still separating him from his father.

“Welcome home, Dad.”

His father’s eyes, dark and flat, turned to him. “You have a room for me?”

Noah couldn't interpret the look, or the tone, when he’d been so good at deciphering his father’s moods before. That had been a matter of survival. He was going to have to learn them again, and fast, because he didn't doubt it would become a matter of survival again. And Selena, who had grown up in a house of brothers who loved her, a town who loved her and looked out for her, wouldn't know how to deal with their father’s anger.

“You have a room,” Noah replied. He’d moved into the master bedroom when he’d gotten back from college, and had no plans of moving out. Selena and Ben each had their own room, so their father would be sleeping in the make-shift bedroom that had been the screen porch. If they’d had more advance notice, Noah might have had a room added on. But they’d only known a few weeks that he was coming home, and well, they had to make do.
 

He motioned to his father to follow him into the house, wondered what it was like for his father to walk into the house he’d last walked out of in cuffs. He tried to look at the place from his father’s point of view. The clutter, the walls in need of paint, the couches covered with blankets. Ben had bought the couches and the big TV when he was making money hand over fist in the oilfields, but the rest of the house, well, it suffered from the neglect of being cared for by two men who had spent more time making money than keeping house, and a young woman with Down’s Syndrome who did her best to make up for their shortcomings.