Brooke felt a touch of guilty pleasure mixed in with her suspicion. But she kept her eyes on the dirt road as it became asphalt right before entering Valentine Valley. “I’ve never been the type he was interested in.”
“As your dad said, war can change a man. Maybe he’s figured out that Valentine is where he belongs, and he’s ready to find a wife and make babies.”
Brooke coughed as if she were choking. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“Should I take the wheel so you don’t kill us?” Emily laughed merrily until she wiped tears from her eyes. “The expression on your face . . .”
“Look, I’m glad if Adam straightened himself out. According to Mrs. Palmer, he did well in the Marines. But I don’t think people’s personalities change all that much. He was full of himself in high school until he was caught joyriding in a stolen car.”
Emily winced. “Well, we all make mistakes . . .”
“The judge was good to him, a first offender and underage, so they assigned him to the supervision of the football coach. And yes, by focusing on football, he found something he was good at. But he was still so arrogant. He had no use for me, and I had no use for him.” But I could think of a few uses for him now . . .
“I understand,” Emily said solemnly, even though her eyes twinkled. “Maybe he’s not thinking that now.”
“Let’s not go crazy,” Brooke said, but she felt a little thrill of pleasure. Stop it, she told herself.
They reached the light where Main Street ended at Highway 82, and she turned onto the highway toward Aspen. They drove the twenty minutes in silence. Snow blew across the road occasionally, but it was clear for the most part. As they reached the exclusive town, she loved seeing the mountains crowded with skiers and snowboarders, stretching up toward the blue sky. On the left were tiers of mansions built into the foothills and sprawled across the valley, their windows reflecting the sun.
At the hospital, Brooke led the way into her mom’s room, then held a finger to her lips for Emily’s benefit. Sandy’s eyes were closed, a book across her lap. The room was a flower garden, vases brimming with roses, daisies, and multihued carnations, all nestled in Baby’s Breath or greenery. Brooke recognized Monica Shaw’s handiwork in more than one display. “Get Well” cards lined the windowsill.
Brooke hesitated a moment, telling herself her mom looked no different, that she was petite and always appeared small in a hospital bed. She had Nate’s deep black hair, helped a bit with coloring now, and it framed her face in an attractive way. Even in the hospital, Sandy made sure she looked pleasant, her face accented with makeup, her nightgowns pretty and feminine. She liked to wander the halls in her wheelchair, visiting cancer patients or sick kids. More than once, Brooke had accompanied her on these visits, and was always so in awe at her ability to brighten someone’s day. But then, her mom had always done that for Brooke, meeting her bus after school with a homemade snack, playing games or doing crafts on a rainy Saturday, listening to Brooke’s dating woes—heck, she even did that now. Her throat closed up a bit at the thought that someday her mom wouldn’t bounce back so easily.
Emily put a hand on her shoulder, her face sympathetic. Brooke reminded herself of her good fortune; Emily had lost her stepdad when she was young, and her mom—whom she hadn’t been close to—died a few years ago. Sandy had practically adopted Emily since the engagement. Sandy approved of everything Emily had done to change her life for the better—
Then why was Brooke so afraid to make changes in her own life? Her brother Josh was renovating the loft of the barn into his own apartment, above his workshop, where his late hours tooling leather wouldn’t bother the family. He was making a change. And then there was Emily, who’d transformed herself and discovered the truth of her family history. Brooke hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that accomplishment. Her mind had worried at it, unable to see what was bothering her. But confronting the barn fire seemed to clarify all her emotions, the restlessness she’d been feeling since Emily’s arrival. Brooke needed a change in her life, something different, but she was afraid that admitting it to her family—to her mom—would make them think she didn’t love them or didn’t want the same ranching life they had. And she did want those things! But she wanted . . . something else, too. If only she knew what it was.
Time, she told herself. She’d give herself the time to figure out what had changed for her, what she needed to make her happy. And it wasn’t about needing any kind of a relationship with a man. Dating wouldn’t solve her problems and would only complicate things, so she wasn’t going there.