Chapter Six
“Thanks for the bed last night.”
True only shrugged as he made the turn to head out to Aunt Millie’s. Jamie smiled inwardly at the man’s standard response to a thank-you or a compliment. True just went about his business, fixing things, going out of his way for people, solving problems, helping, leaving people feeling a gratitude that couldn’t be expressed simply by paying the bill. He remembered how he himself had felt when True called for help for Hope; he couldn’t jump on it fast enough.
Zee had said once that her brother tried to fix everything for everyone because he hadn’t been able to fix the one thing he’d truly wanted to: Amanda.
Jamie remembered her well, the sweet, generous girl everybody had loved. Including him, because on that terrible night it had been Amanda who had stepped in and taken charge until True got there. She’d seen to him as gently and lovingly as she had Zee. Much of that time was a fog in his mind, but he remembered her more than perhaps anything except the moment Aunt Millie had arrived and taken him into her arms, assuring him they were both badly wounded but they would survive.
Guilt stabbed at him. His aunt hadn’t just taken in her orphaned nephew, she’d also welcomed him, poured out her own unique kind of love and support. She was ever honest with him about what was ahead, that the true path of grief was not a straight, linear one but a snarl of loops and going back the way you came. She’d been right, about all of it, and her caring but honest approach had helped him more than any of the platitudes he got from others who wanted to shield him from the reality of his parents’ deaths.
It was Aunt Millie who had comforted him after his nightmares at all hours, who had never tried to hide her own tears and thus made him feel safe enough to shed his own, who refused to lie to him and say it would ever be over, and finally, on his sixteenth birthday, she had bought him that guitar. It was nothing fancy, but it had a beautiful tone and it had taught him the basics. He still had it. Always would, even though his collection had grown to about six.
It was the guitar he’d brought with him. The only one he wanted.
“How’d you and Zee do this morning?”
Snapped out of his thoughts Jamie gave True a quick glance, but he was studiously watching the road. The man was protective of his sister, even more than a typical older brother would be, because he’d raised her since she was fourteen. Hell, he’d been Jamie’s own adult male role model since then, too, his own borrowed big brother.
For all the good it did. You’d be a lot better off if you’d followed his example more.
“Okay,” he finally said. It was a lukewarm word for what he’d truly felt. And it didn’t help that Zee was still the most… No adjectives were enough, she was simply the most woman he’d ever known. “She seemed…worried.”
“About you? Yes. I think she’s been worried since you left town.”
“Worried? Or mad?” he asked wryly.
“They’re not mutually exclusive.”
Jamie sighed. “Look, about that…I…we…I never meant…” He stopped with a disgusted snort and shook his head.
“If you’re dancing around telling me you two started having sex in your senior year of high school, don’t bother. I know. I always knew.”
“You did?” Jamie stared at the man. “You were always so protective of her. Why the hell didn’t you come after me?”
True shrugged. “Being with you was the only time Zee ever smiled. I wasn’t going to take that away from her. Or you, for that matter.”
Well, there’s that at least. So why do I still feel so defensive about it? “I was always going to leave, and she knew it.”
True flicked him a glance, then went back to the road. “We all knew it. You had big plans, dreams. And the talent to carry them out.” Another glance, this time with a smile. “Zee always said Whiskey River could never contain you.”
“Then why is she so mad that I left?”
“That’s between you two, and I’m not playing referee.”
“Great,” Jamie muttered. He’d been hoping True would at least give him a clue.
“But,” True added after a moment, “you might want to rethink the idea that that’s all she’s mad about.”
Jamie didn’t like the sound of that. What else could Zee be ticked at him about? They drove on in silence for a few minutes, Jamie soaking in the view as they went, the familiar things, the big pecan tree here, carefully preserved old buildings there. It took him a moment to realize what he was feeling, it had been so long. It wasn’t peace, not yet—it was too soon for that—but it was a sort of calm he hadn’t had for…well, he couldn’t remember when. Enough of this, of being home, and maybe he could deal with Derek. And Aunt Millie’s place.
Maybe even Zee.
Maybe.
His first sight of the house, from a distance, sparked an odd feeling in him. A jab of recognition, a feel of coming home, of a destination finally reached. But the closer they got, the more another feeling grew, an unease he couldn’t quite name.
“Damn,” he muttered as they came to a halt in the driveway.
“Told you it was rough,” True said. “I got the broken windows out and boarded up, fixed a leak—”
“No, man, it’s okay. I told you to just do what was essential for now.”
“I know. But I’m still sorry I didn’t check on it. Time gets away.”
“And you were busy. You’re always busy.”
“Keeps me out of trouble.”
The thought of steady, solid True Mahan in any kind of trouble almost made Jamie laugh. He got out of the truck, and for a moment just looked at the house where he’d lived out the roughest years of his young life. And yet it had been a haven, a safe place in his upended world.
“I didn’t think it would go down so far so fast,” he said softly.
“We’ve had some rough weather. But I should have thought about keeping an eye on it, after she passed.”
Jamie glanced at True. “It wasn’t your job.”
“She was like family to us, too.” True smiled sadly. “She was always one of the few people I could count on for the truth, about what it was going to be like. That there’d be no getting over this, only through it.”
Jamie nodded as they walked toward the house. “She knew. She’d been there even before my folks died.”
“Who? Did you ever find out?” True asked as they came to a halt in the front yard.
“She never talked about it much, but I found some photos once, of a guy in uniform. Camo stuff. She found me looking at them. I asked her who it was, and she said ‘My heart.’”
True winced, and Jamie nodded. Not wanting to dwell on it, he turned his attention back to the house. “I guess I’m lucky no one broke in and trashed the place.”
True made an odd sound. “Uh…someone did. Not trash it, but…broke in.”
He was surprised at how that jabbed at him. “What? When?”
“A while back.” True grimaced. “Hope.”
Jamie blinked. “What?”
“This is where I found her.”
Now he was staring. “You found Hope in my aunt’s house?”
True sighed. “It’s a long story. She was desperate. Needed shelter. And she didn’t damage anything, really, just a window, and—”
Jamie held up a hand. “I wouldn’t care if she had. Especially now that I’ve met her. And seen the change she’s made in you.”
True shrugged again, but he was smiling. “Best day of my life was when she hit me with Aunt Millie’s mop.”
Jamie laughed out loud. The first time he had in a long time, he realized. And he dared to hope that he might truly find what he needed, back here. Here, where he’d once before pieced his shattered life back together, with the help of his loving aunt and an equally shattered girl with huge blue eyes.
Maybe returning to the beginning really was the only way to go on.