The Moment They Can Never Forgive - Preview

CHAPTER ONE 

Leah Reynolds looked at the little boy seated beside her. His face was pressed to the glass, taking in everything he saw. She turned into the driveway as the sun started to rise and stopped at the mailbox with the word Reynolds in faded white lettering.

It had been seven years since she’d set foot in this place. Seven years since anyone had. She’d left that day, telling her friends she was following her dreams, but what she’d actually been doing was running away from everything… from him. Life had imploded, and there had been nothing left for her in Lyntacky, so she’d gone.

Leah felt the anxiety creeping over her, the same kind that used to accompany walks back up the long driveway on her way home from school or, in later years, from work. Had she done the right thing coming back?

You’re an adult now, and there is nothing here for you to fear.

“Hudson, this place was where me and your mom grew up. Not sure what we’re going to find when we arrive, but we’ll fix it up and make it ours, okay?” The words came out a little high and tight, but just saying them aloud eased some of the pain in her chest.

He looked at her then, through his mother’s eyes, which never failed to make a lump form in Leah’s throat. Cassie had been gone for two months, her younger sister now the legal guardian to her six-year-old son. Leah, who could barely look after herself, was now his sole caregiver. Not Hudson’s father, who was a low-life loser and had run as fast as he could in the opposite direction the day he’d been told Cassie was carrying his child.

“Okay.”

It was Leah who had been there when Hudson was born, and Leah who had spent hours with Cassie and Hudson after moving into the same apartment complex to help her sister navigate being a single mom.

At six, he’d had attitude and challenged his mom constantly, but that had vanished with her death. He was now serious and sad. It took a lot to get two words out of him when one would do. Hudson missed his mom desperately, as did Leah.

Unlike Leah and Cassie’s own upbringing, she’d vowed as her sister lay dying to raise him with love and happiness. Money was tight right now, but she was going to do everything she could to turn that around, and coming back here, to the place she’d been raised and had run from years ago after her life had imploded, was the start of that.

I will make it work.

They would both be safe here for now, but if it didn’t work out in Lyntacky, she’d leave and find somewhere else. Leah would go wherever she needed to for Hudson and his future happiness. She’d promised Cassie that. Made it a vow just before her sister slipped away from her.

Exhaling, she pressed down on the gas, and the old van she’d traded her sedan for rolled down the long driveway she’d walked up and down twice a day for many years with Cassie. When it was wet, they’d had to jump the potholes.

“I’ll tell you right off, Hudson, your granddaddy wasn’t big on maintenance of any kind, but we’re not going to be like that. We’re getting this place in shape. It will be awesome.”

“Can I ride a tractor?”

He rarely spoke without her prompting him, so it was a surprise to hear the words.

“If it’s still working, I don’t see why not,” Leah said, trying to tamp down the fears clawing their way up her throat. What would she find? Was she an idiot to bring Hudson here to a place no one had set foot in for seven years?

What was I thinking?

It had seemed like a good idea when she’d woken in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. The wail of sirens screaming outside her window and Hudson nestled into her side had told her it was time to leave Philadelphia. That, plus the dream she’d always had. Here was the place she could finally try to make them happen.

She’d worried about keeping Hudson safe and decided this was her best chance.

And what? Now you’re regretting uprooting him from the only life he’s ever known and coming back to your demons?

“Can I ride a horse?”

“There’s nothing eating our grass right now, so I think we can arrange that in the future. Your mom and I used to have a horse. I’d be happy to get back on one too.”

The fact that he was talking about something like horses or tractors was a win as far as Leah was concerned. He’d been so quiet since Cassie died.

She thought about the letter in her handbag from the Lyntacky Town Council, telling her this house was empty and needed attention, and as she was the owner, it was up to her to see to that. So here she was. If things didn’t work out, she’d sell the place and use the money to set them up somewhere else.

Paddocks lay on either side of the drive, the land flat and running to the boundary fences. The Reynolds acreage was rectangular with a creek at the back—one she would be schooling her nephew to stay away from until he could swim well. As they reached a fork in the driveway, tall trees started to the left. Her father hadn’t wanted anyone seeing what went on in the outbuildings, so he’d planted them for privacy. To the right was the house, and behind it the shade houses he’d put up to earn money… and then had done nothing with them. Which was pretty much the story of his life. Leah turned right.

“My mom was born here?”

“She was, buddy.” Leah swallowed down the tears. “Shall we go inside and investigate? We have a van full of stuff to unload, and then we’ll head into town for some supplies. I think tonight might be a take-out night.”

He shot her a wide-eyed look of disbelief, and Leah understood why. She always cooked for him—not very well, but she was getting better.

“I’m tired after that long drive, so no cooking for me tonight. How about you?”

He shook his head.

Stopping before the front door, Leah looked around at the weeds and paint chipping off the siding. It looked pretty much as it had when she’d left.

She tried to hold back the flood of memories and emotion, most of which held her sister, but some leaked into her thoughts.

Leah and Cassie had relied on each other after their mother passed when they were young, and their father cared about no one but himself. Her gentle sister had always been there when Leah needed her. Caring for her when she was sick, listening when she had a problem. Leah had been the same for Cassie. They’d been a team, which was why she’d followed Cassie when she’d left Lyntacky. That, and the fact that Dan Duke had broken her heart, but she wasn’t thinking about that now.

Leah hoped the spare key was where it always was. Otherwise, she’d be breaking in.

Chuck Reynolds had been a man for spare keys because when he came home drunk and couldn’t find his, he’d know there was another one. He had spare keys everywhere, including underneath the chassis of his vehicles.

“Okay, buddy, if there is no key, we’ll break into the house.”

“It’s against the law to break into a house, Aunt Leah,” Hudson said in that serious way he had.

“It’s not against the law if you own the house.”

She got out, and stretched her back, taking in her family home. She knew when she stepped foot inside that door, the memories were going to hit her from all sides. Especially the last one, when her father had been taken away by her lover in handcuffs.

The two-story farmhouse had been old when her parents bought it just after they’d married, and her father had made improvements right up until her mother died when Leah was little. The midday sun revealed the faded red roof, which looked in need of serious repair. But as it wasn’t raining, that didn’t need to concern Leah right then. A covered veranda ran to the left and right, and the steps were in the middle, leading up to the front door, which still had a cracked pane of glass.

“So, what do you think?” Leah asked, looking down at the boy who had slid his little hand into hers.

“It’s ours,” he said quietly. “We own it?”

She nodded. Technically, it was her father’s, but as he was spending the rest of his life in prison, it would come to her eventually.

“What do you know about vegetables, Hudson?”

He looked at her, considering. “I like carrots, but not much else.”

“That’s a start, but I’m thinking more about growing some to make a living out of.”

“I can help.”

“Damn right you can,” she said, smiling at him. This had been the right thing to do. He’d talked to her more on the journey here than in the entire time since Cassie had been gone. “You’ve got to earn your keep, just like me.”

There, she’d said the words out loud, so she couldn’t walk away from them now. Her father hadn’t made a go of anything, but dammit, she would.

“What about your pottery? Mom said you were amazing at it, and I love those mugs you made us.”

“Maybe,” was all Leah said.

She’d stomped down that dream for a while. Later, when Hudson was settled and she’d made sure he had everything he needed—everything her sister wanted him to have—she’d revisit her passion.

She led him to the baseboard behind a small shrub. “Your granddaddy hid spare keys everywhere, Hudson, and the one for the front door is usually here.” She crouched, releasing his fingers, and searched the top of the board until she found the nail. Hanging on it was the key. “Got it.”

“That’s good.”

Glad you think so, buddy. I’m terrified about this next step. But then, she’d been scared ever since receiving that call to come to the hospital. Since realizing her sister was dying and that Leah was all Hudson had left.

She walked up the front step, put the key in the lock, exhaled slowly, and clicked it to the right. She opened the door. Leah’s first impression was the smell, closed-up and musty. Unused. Walking inside, she took Hudson’s hand again, as much for her as for him, and led him into the narrow hallway.

Memories hit her from all sides.

“See that mark there?” She pointed to a black stain on the white wall. “Your mom did that with her wand.”

His smile made her chest feel warm because it was so rare and so like the ones Cassie used to give her when something excited her.

“We made it out of wood.”

“I want one too.”

“Your granddaddy has four barns. I’m sure we can find the supplies for that in one of them.”

Looking around her, Leah vowed that she and Hudson were going to make good memories here. Memories that would overwrite the old unhappy ones. 

 

CHAPTER TWO

Dan Duke—aka Little Bro, Double D, and at least five other nicknames—finished shuffling the papers on his desk into a pile so it looked neater than the mess he’d arrived to… but not by much. Being untidy was one of his major flaws, according to his mother. “Such a sweet boy, but ask him to bring his dirty dishes out of his room, and he’s suddenly deaf,” she was often heard saying to anyone who would listen.

He’d never mastered tidiness, just like he’d never mastered making his bed, other than tugging up the covers after he got out. As far as Dan was concerned, you either had the organized-and-tidy gene or you didn’t. But he had figured out that if you were really nice to the people around you, treated them well, and occasionally brought them coffee or baked goods, some of them would clean up after you. Not everyone, but enough of them. And he knew exactly who they were.

His mom said he played the game of life better than any of the other four Duke siblings. Dan wasn’t so sure he’d got it right yet, but he did know how to read people and treat them accordingly, which came in handy in his job.

He tossed a pen into the mug his niece had given him last Christmas that said Best Uncle Ever. The word Youngest was scribbled between “Best” and “Uncle,” because Ally had a lot of uncles and never played favorites.

“We just got a call from the walking group. They passed the old Reynolds place about ten minutes ago. Apparently there was a vehicle parked in the driveway,” Sybil, the woman who manned the police station’s front desk, told him.

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve headed out there to check on a sighting of a car that was never there,” Dan said. “I’m sure the citizens of this town don’t think we have enough to do, so they create work.”

“Bart has pretty sharp eyesight, and he was the one who called us,” Sybil replied.
“Okay, I’ll go look. I need to check the road out of Lyntacky anyway. There were reports of people doing burnouts again.”

“Kids. What are you going to do?” Sybil waved her hand dismissively.

Dan walked out of the station and headed for his cruiser.

He’d been a cop in Lyntacky for years and wouldn’t work anywhere else. This was home. Everyone he loved was here. Lately, the population had grown with the new houses going up, and along with that, crime had risen too. Not big-city crime, but enough to keep them busy.

“What’s up, Little Bro?”

He turned toward the voice.

“What are you doing here, Ryder?” Dan asked, watching the tall man stroll toward him. All five Duke siblings were cut from the same cloth, but each had slight variations—an inch taller here, a shade darker hair there—but no one could mistake them for anything but brothers and sister. Ryder was the next oldest after Dan. Above Ryder were Brody and Sawyer, and below was Zoe, the only girl.

“I thought you might need sustenance.” Ryder held out a cup and a small brown bag.
Dan sighed. “You all know I’m an adult and, not only that, a law enforcement officer, right?” He still took the offerings because… well, food and coffee. “Mom put you up to it, didn’t she?”

Ryder grinned. “She said you left before she woke up, and she was worried you wouldn’t eat breakfast or lunch, then pass out from lack of nutrition.”

“And apparently I don’t know how to buy food or coffee?” Dan asked. “From my brother, who owns a cafe at the end of Main Street."

“Something like that. And you are our baby brother, so we have to look out for you, seeing as you clearly have no idea how to do that for yourself. Plus, you’ll be gone an entire day tomorrow on that course. How will we cope not seeing you?” Ryder drawled.
“Right, because being a cop, I have no survival skills.”

“There is that,” Ryder said.

“Dukes!”

They both turned as Bart Matilda jogged toward them in those obscenely short shorts that hurt Dan’s eyes. The fabric was thin and floaty, and no one had ever been brave enough to ask Bart what, if anything, he wore underneath. Dan sometimes wondered if he wore anything at all.

“Have you checked the Reynolds house yet?” Bart asked, jogging in place. 
Ryder and Dan kept their eyes firmly on his face. Of uncertain age, Bart was one of Lyntacky’s octogenarians and a man Dan respected… though he didn’t respect his clothing choices.

“Heading out there now,” Dan said.
“Good.” Bart did a couple of lunges, and Ryder made a choking sound.

“Right, then, I’ll be off,” Bart said. “I’m in training for a marathon.”

“Have you run one before?” Dan asked.

Ryder stepped on his foot to shut him up.

“No, first one, but I’ll be ready.” Bart jogged away, raising a hand in farewell.

“You know the rule, bro, don’t engage Bart in conversation when he’s wearing those shorts, and he’ll leave,” Ryder said.

“Right, sorry. I forgot.” Dan took a long pull of his coffee.

“I wonder how you manage police work with being so absentminded,” Ryder teased.

“I remember the important stuff.”

“That’s good, then. Later, bro. I better get back and relieve Libby.”

“Yeah, later,” Dan said, taking another sip. This brother made excellent coffee, which was a good thing, as he was the one who owned the cafe.

Dan headed for his vehicle, opened the driver’s door, and set the cup in the holder. Even though he was a cop, his family still looked out for him. It drove him crazy… and made him happy in equal measure.

He opened the bag and took a large bite of the grilled cheese sandwich before turning the ignition and heading up Main Street. He raised a hand at someone in greeting but didn’t stop. Conversations in Lyntacky were never brief, and he had places to be. Lyntacky was a small Colorado town with a big attitude. Trees, benches, and statues filled most of the open space not occupied by shops. It was an eclectic mix of charm and functionality, or so the mayor liked to say. The names of the businesses all had a connection to square dancing, the mayor’s personal obsession.

Life was good here. Better than good. Dan loved his job, even the crappy parts, and he loved his family. But lately, he’d been restless. He wasn’t sure what for, but something was bugging him.

Maybe he needed to date again. Settle down like the rest of his family. The problem was, he hadn’t met anyone in years who made him think that was an option.

He drove toward the Reynolds place, thinking about the women he’d dated recently. Fun, sure, but nothing lasting. Since Leah had left town, no one had come close to her.

His sister always said that when you formed a real connection with someone, you’d know they were the one. He’d laughed at her, but Dan knew exactly what Zoe meant. He’d had that connection with Leah Reynolds, even if they’d been too young to understand it until it was too late.

He’d gotten over Leah. Mostly. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her and wonder where she was, what she was doing. The fiery younger Reynolds daughter with her don’t-mess-with-me attitude and that smile…. The one that lit up her whole pretty face.

Locals had kept an eye on her family farm over the years because no one else would. And maybe Dan, more than the others, felt a responsibility toward the Reynolds sisters.
Minutes later, he turned into the driveway. The place was run-down, badly in need of maintenance. It was obvious no one in the Reynolds family was coming back to handle that anytime soon. Maybe they’d sell it?

Dan took the fork toward the house rather than the barns Chuck Reynolds had built. Like everything on this property, he’d done nothing with them and then moved on to the next project he wouldn’t finish. 

He squinted. Was that… a woman standing on the front step? It couldn’t be…

“Holy fuck,” Dan muttered, his pulse spiking. 

Seven years, and there she was. Leah Reynolds. He hadn’t seen her since the day she’d told him to go to hell for what he’d done to her family. What he’d had to do because it was his duty. He stomped down the guilt.

Dan hadn’t known she was back. No one had, or someone would have told him. He had known the town council had sent her and Cassie a letter about the state of the house. He’d figured they’d sell it. Apparently, he was wrong.

She didn’t move as Dan parked and got out, his heart thudding.

“Leah,” he said, approaching her the way one might a rattlesnake. She’d been unpredictable and volatile back then, so she probably still was. She’d also been kind, sweet, and so many other things when he’d taken the time to see past her defenses.

“Deputy,” she said in an emotionless voice.

It stopped him cold. She’d never been unemotional before. The fire and wildness in her had been what drew him in all those years ago. 

Now she seemed different. No makeup. Simple clothes—cutoffs that showed off her endless legs and a worn T-shirt instead of the fitted, flirty outfits that used to tie his self-control in knots. Seven years apart had honed her beauty, but where there had always been a smile, there was coolness now. The girl he’d known was gone. In her place stood a woman who carried herself with a stillness that was somehow more dangerous than all that wild energy had ever been.

His gaze tracked the familiar things. The thick caramel curls she’d hated because she couldn’t tame them, the deep green eyes set in her heart-shaped face. Those eyes that had once shown her every thought were now guarded.
The sight of her hit Dan like a punch to his gut. 

“Well?” she said, hands on her hips. “Why are you here on private property, Deputy? What do you want?”

“We had a report someone was seen outside your house. Since no one’s lived here for years, I was checking. Did you get back today?”

He spoke like the last seven years hadn’t happened, like there wasn’t a gulf of pain and history between them.

“Not sure what business that is of yours, but as I own the place and have every right to be here, you can leave now,” she said in that same flat tone.

“Did you come back because of the letter, Leah?”

“It’s none of your business why I came back, Deputy Duke. So get off my property.”
His eyes held hers for long seconds. “You keep up that attitude, and you’re going to settle right back in.”

She shifted her weight onto one leg and folded her arms in the general pose of pissed-off-ness, a word his niece used often. He expected her to yell, hurl an insult. Instead, she just said, “Goodbye, Deputy.”

“You turned on your utilities?” he asked. “Need me to do it?”

“I can look after myself.”

“I know you can. I was just asking,” he gritted out. She could always get a rise out of him. That hadn’t changed.

“Go away, Deputy. We need nothing from you.”

“We?” he asked, but she only pressed her lips together. Footsteps sounded inside the house. “Who’s in there?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.

“That would be none of your damned business,” Leah snapped.

She was right, it wasn’t, but he still wanted to know. Instead, he nodded and turned back to his truck. Before climbing in, he gave her one last look. “Welcome home, Leah.”
She didn’t answer, and he hadn’t expected her to.

As he drove back down the driveway, he checked the mirror. She’d moved to stand in the center of it, watching him leave.

Life, Dan thought, was about to get a whole lot more complicated.