Operation Homecoming. Justine Davis
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But you have, Walker thought. And I don’t blame you.
“I suppose you’d better come in,” Hayley said, her words and tone telling him he was far from forgiven. He’d expected that. She had every right, after all.
“Are you sure?” Quinn asked her, sounding as if he would happily toss Walker into the sound.
“He’s my brother,” she said simply. “I can’t just throw him out.”
Quinn made a sound Walker suspected was disagreement with that. But he stood aside and let Walker through the doorway.
The house had changed. It startled him, but he should have expected it. He swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat as it was pounded home to him that his mother was truly gone. This house that she had made the near-perfect home of his childhood would never ring with her laughter again. And he hadn’t treasured it or her nearly as much as he should have. And now he would never see or hear her again, except in memories.
Pain dug at him, burrowing deep. He’d thought himself prepared for this, but he’d been wrong. Very wrong.
He looked at Hayley, made himself face her even knowing she couldn’t miss the wetness in his eyes. The initial shock was ebbing and she held his gaze, her expression unreadable even to him, who had once been able to read her so well. He knew there was every chance he might never earn her forgiveness, that he may have lost his sister forever.
Along with his mother. For an instant the house seemed empty despite their presence. She had always so filled this home she and his father had built together.
“Why did you stay?” he asked, barely aware of saying it aloud.
“This is home,” Hayley said, her voice tight. “I feel closer to her here. Not that you’d understand. Running away is more your style.”
He winced. As far as she knew, she was right. Once, his first instinct would have been to get away from the constant reminders, as it had been when his father had died.
“That was before I realized there is no getting away from some things,” he said quietly.
For an instant something shifted in her gaze, as if she’d sensed the pain behind the words. Whether it mattered to her or not, he couldn’t tell. His sister had ever been kindhearted, but even the kindest heart could only take so much desertion.
Her expression went cool again, and he had to look away. He glanced around. This was Hayley’s home now, and their mother’s taste and Hayley’s had never been the same, Mom being more the floral print and ruffle type and Hayley not. Or maybe it was Quinn’s influence. But he liked the look of the blues and greens, the solids and stripes, even as it saddened him to no longer see that huge, ugly sofa on the far wall, with the big orange flowers that had always looked kind of alien to him. But mom’s big chair was still in the corner, and...
There was someone else here.
He stared at the woman, who seemed familiar. Not a neighbor, he thought. Must be a friend of Hayley’s; they looked about the same age. Tall, with beautiful blue eyes behind stylish red-framed glasses, long waves of shiny auburn hair, a turned-up nose and, he assessed, a great shape. Just enough curves, and those jeans and sweater hugged every one of them. And her mouth...the way she was biting her lip as she looked at him...
He felt a kick of interest. Quashed it swiftly. Not just out of habit, as something he hadn’t dared risk in a long time, but with Hayley already angry at him that was hardly the way to go ten seconds through the door.
“Hi, I’m Hayley’s nominee for worst brother in the world,” he said wryly to the woman. “And I think I’ll win.”
“Walker,” she said, her voice oddly tense.
His brow furrowed at her use of his name. She knew who he was? She had been staring at him rather intensely for a stranger. Belatedly, he realized what else had been in her tone. She didn’t just know him, she expected him to know her.
“I’m sorry, I...”
“You don’t even recognize me, do you?”
He tried to judge if there was hurt, or maybe anger, in her tone. Everybody else here was ticked at him, why not this one? When he caught himself assessing threat, trying to decide what answer would turn the situation the right way, he had to rather fiercely remind himself he wasn’t in that hole anymore.
“I... You look familiar,” he said, feeling a bit helpless, a sensation he didn’t care for; he’d been there too often. But he wasn’t there anymore, he told himself again. And here, it wasn’t likely to get him killed.
Unless he pissed Quinn off enough and he went for that pistol he’d seen on the table just inside the door. He had no doubts the man could and would use it if necessary. He’d come to know a bit about that kind of steel in a man.
“She has changed a bit since you last saw her,” Hayley said. “But I would think you’d still recognize your little shadow.”
That quickly, an image flashed through his mind. A girl, at least six inches shorter than this one, unnaturally quiet, with unruly, bright, almost-orange hair in a clasp at the back of her neck, and big, heavy glasses that masked her eyes.
“Amy?” He knew he sounded astonished, but who wouldn’t be? Who would ever have expected this dazzling creature to emerge from that shy child who tried so desperately not to be noticed? What had happened to the orange hair and the huge glasses she’d hidden behind? “Quiet little Amy?”
“Not so little anymore.”
“I can...see that.” He barely managed not to let his gaze slide over those rich curves. Damn, what was wrong with him?
He was off balance, that was all. He’d known this was going to be difficult, even painful if his sister reacted as she had every right to, with anger and rejection. But he hadn’t expected, of all people, the girl who had been so infatuated with him in high school to be here. The girl who had, on occasion, trailed him like a clumsy but loving puppy. The girl he’d tolerated because she was his little sister’s best friend and he didn’t have much choice. The girl he remembered as studious, reliable, responsible and a few other things that were, at the time, the most boring attributes he could think of.
The girl whose innocent adoration, to his own considerable shock, had floated into his mind at odd moments over the years as the last purely sweet thing that had happened in his life.
“Did you expect nothing would change?” Amy asked, an edge in her voice.
“No, I...”
“Everything’s changed,” Hayley said, and he couldn’t miss the undertone that had come into her voice; he’d grown up with her and he knew when she was on the verge of breaking. The sound ripped at him. “And you never cared.”
“Hayley, no, I...” he began, but before he could get out another word his sister had turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Quinn gave him a hard look, then followed.
“I never got the chance to really thank you,” Amy said, snapping his head back around.
He blinked. “Thank me?”
For the life of him he couldn’t think of one thing any of the three people in this house would want to thank him for. That he’d had no choice, and worse, couldn’t explain, didn’t matter in the long run. He’d shattered the one tie in his life he still valued. He doubted from the moment he’d been free to come home that it could be repaired, but he had to try. That he was feeling a bit battered at the moment didn’t change that.
“For saving me from those nerd-hunters my first week of high school.”
It took him a moment; it seemed so long ago. But then the memory was there—a small, quiet figure with the too-vivid hair backed into a corner, tears on her cheeks as she stared at the ground rather than the trio of girls who were jeering at her. He’d groaned inwardly