“You were doing your job.”
He sighed. “I better get back to the office.”
The soles of his shoes scuffed against the asphalt. He’d lost so much in his life, but he’d always kept moving, focusing on a goal. Cypress Landing was a good place and he liked it. If things had been different, not now, but in the beginning, when he was a kid, he could have been happy living here. Maybe with an attractive woman like the vet. Buried in this deception, he was beginning to lose track of himself. Occasionally, he wanted to ask for the real Luke to please step forward. Though, he couldn’t be certain he’d recognize the guy if he did.
THE WHITE CARD with the huge numbers printed on it reflected in the windshield. Jayden inched her car forward, watching the line of teachers and tiny people streaming from the building. It was how she’d decided to think of the two boys who’d fallen into her lap, waist-high humans. What else could she do? She was much better at dealing with Kasey than she was with two kids both under the age of twelve. For three seconds she contemplated spinning the car around and driving west until she ran into the ocean. But then she saw two curly mops of black hair bobbing as the kids raced toward her, their backpacks nearly toppling them. In the seat behind her, Kasey whined and wagged his tail. Even he was better at this parenting thing than she was. The door flew open and the two piled in, smothering Kasey with hugs. Her, they glanced at cautiously. She had to fight to keep from dropping her forehead to the steering wheel in utter defeat. Jayden had never intended to return to Cypress Landing. Beverly Hills might not have been the home she’d been dreaming of, might not have filled that empty spot she’d felt for ten years, but coming here surely wasn’t the answer. She was trapped raising two kids with no idea how to do it.
CHAPTER TWO
JAYDEN STARED at the breakfast she’d set out before calling the boys. Oatmeal, juice and apple slices—what kind of strange kids were these two? Her mother would have had to sit on her and funnel liquefied oatmeal down Jayden’s throat to get her to eat it when she was ten years old. Thankfully, Evette Miller had been more of a biscuits-and-tomato-gravy cook, likely accounting for Jayden’s elevated cholesterol count. Her sister had managed to train these boys to eat healthier.
Elbows on the counter, she battled the tightness in her chest. When Caitland and Robert had died in a car crash a few months ago, she’d dropped everything to come and raise their children. Her sister hadn’t told her they’d made her legal guardian. But then, who else was there? Their mother couldn’t be expected to be responsible for two young boys, not when she was getting ready to retire. Besides, Caitland had wanted Jayden in Cypress Landing for years. She’d always said she’d get her home if it was the last thing she did.
Jayden blinked rapidly, had to fight to get her breath. At times like this, when the birds sang in the morning air and the light north wind began to make the dimming green leaves wiggle…Her mother would be by soon. She straightened, and prepared to unleash chaos.
“Boys, breakfast!”
She heard squeals from the bedroom, then a thump, followed by the dog barking. The day had officially begun. She spread her feet apart and bent to hug eight-year-old Garrett as he ran into the kitchen. He smiled. It was a start.
“You’re dressed and I only came to get you one time. Wow.”
“I’m great, huh?”
“You and your brother are the best. I didn’t know little boys could be so smart.”
Garrett struggled loose, grinning, and scurried to the table. But there was still no sign of Elliot, who at ten deemed himself the man of the house, a title much too overwhelming for a boy. She strode to his room, and found him carefully tying his sneakers. She often wondered if the older brother had come from the womb sporting a pair of neatly double-knotted tennis shoes.
“Ready for breakfast?”
He bobbed his head in a gesture that meant less than nothing to her.
“Anything wrong?”
He shrugged.
“Hmm,” she said as he followed her to the kitchen. “Is that yes, no, maybe, I don’t know, the dog ate my homework?”
Elliot snorted. “Kasey wouldn’t eat my homework.”
“You’re probably right. So what’s on your mind?”
“We’ve got baseball practice tonight and tomorrow, then they’re going to pick teams.”
“I know. I’ve already made plans to take you.”
“But what if I don’t get picked to be on a good team?”
“Then you’ll be the best player on a not-so-good team.”
He slunk into a chair at the table. “You haven’t seen me play, Aunt J. How do you know I’ll be the best?”
“We’ve been throwing the ball in the yard every evening, and you’re excellent at that. Though I’m mostly going by how the people in the clinic the past few weeks have been asking if you were playing this year and telling me how much they wanted you on their team. I’m guessing you’re an outstanding player.”
He spooned his oatmeal obviously unimpressed. “I like baseball, a lot. My dad and I—” He paused and swallowed hard. Jayden held her breath. “We played all the time.”
“I’ll be glad to practice with you.”
He snorted then took a bite of his apple. “You’re not much help.”
She put her fists on her hips, mustering an offended scowl. This was the first time he’d been able to mention his dad without crying. “Maybe this Saturday we should get your friends together and go to one of the fields for a game. I’ll show you my skills.”
Even Garrett laughed at that.
A knock on the kitchen door preceded her mom by two seconds. Her short steel-gray hair stuck up in various appropriate directions as though she’d just stepped out of the stylist’s chair. Which she had. Evette had owned her own salon for as long as Jayden could remember. She hugged the boys and went to the cabinet to find a bowl.
“I’ll take the kids to school this morning and get them in the afternoon. I’ve got to run to town early then give Helen a perm.” At sixty-three, her mother seemed much younger.
“Thanks, I need to get to the clinic.”
The brothers brought their dishes to the sink, and Jayden rinsed them and stuck them in the dishwasher. Garrett went back to the table to eat his apple while Elliot dug in his backpack, asking, “When’s Mr. Eric coming home?”
Her mother paused with a spoonful of oatmeal inches from her lips, but the spoon Jayden held clattered to the floor, splattering bits of oatmeal on the tile. She peered through the window above the sink at the darkened windows of the guest house across the field.
“They’ll hear it at school,” her mother said in a low voice. “Do you want me to do it?”
Jayden shook her head. Eric had been renting for nearly a year before Caitland and Robert had been killed. The boys knew him well. Three deaths in less than two months was far too much for a kid to deal with.
She slid a chair next to Garrett at the table then hauled another closer for Elliot. The older boy recognized bad news was coming. She could tell by his slumped posture and his reluctance to sit.
“We think Eric’s been hurt and he may not be back.”
Elliot stood again and Garrett’s eyes instantly filled with water.
“Did he go to be an angel in the clouds, too?” A tear trickled down Garrett’s cheek, and Jayden wanted to throw up.
“We don’t know for certain yet, but it looks that way. I want you to