You'll Think of Me Read online

  But Brooklyn was right. Chad’s mother would be heartbroken if she knew the home she’d cared for had come to this.

  “It’s kinda spooky in here, Mom,” Alycia said in a near whisper.

  Brooklyn laughed softly. “We’ll take care of that.” She moved to a wall switch and flipped it upward. Nothing happened. No lights illuminated the room. “Oh no. I arranged for the power to be turned on today. I guess it hasn’t happened yet.”

  Derek heard the slight frustration in her voice. He moved into the doorway. “You can’t stay here without power. Without electricity there’s no pump to run the well. You can’t get by without water. And you won’t have lights or the use of the stove. Besides that, you don’t have any food here and no way to get it until you’ve got a car. Let me take you to the motel.”

  She turned toward him, but she was too far inside the house for him to make out her expression. “I can’t afford for us to stay in a motel. Especially now that my car needs some kind of repair. Alycia and I will have to get by for a while. I’m sure the power will be turned on before dark. We’ll manage until then.”

  There was no way to escape it. He knew what had to be done. He was going to have to help Brooklyn. She was the last person on earth he felt like helping just now, but he would have to do it anyway.

  Ruth Johnson stood on the porch of her home, shading her eyes against the afternoon sun with the flat of one hand. Her grandson hadn’t expected Brooklyn and Alycia to return to Thunder Creek. At least not without advance notice. But like it or not, they were here, and Derek had turned to Ruth when he hadn’t known what else to do. He hadn’t given her many details when he called, but details hadn’t been required. She had long ago learned not to refuse when God brought a need to her attention.

  The sheriff’s SUV turned the corner onto Maple, the sight causing a flutter of anticipation in Ruth’s chest. She was curious for that first glimpse of Brooklyn Myers after all these years. She had been such a pretty girl, but an unhappy one—with good reason, given her home situation.

  Ruth wondered if Brooklyn had let her father know she was returning to Thunder Creek after all these years. “Surely he wouldn’t turn them away if he knew,” she said aloud.

  But that wasn’t true. Reggie Myers was a hard, unforgiving man, and his bitterness had made him more brittle, unbending, and unkind with every passing year. He could—and probably would—turn away anybody who displeased him in the slightest. Even his only daughter and grandchild.

  Derek parked the vehicle in the private driveway on the opposite side of the house from the entrance to Ruth’s tea and gift shop, Sips and Scentimentals. As he got out, he gave her a brief wave, then rounded the SUV to open both front and back doors at the same time. Moments later, Brooklyn slipped to the ground, joined soon after by her daughter. The two quickly clasped hands.

  Brooklyn looked smaller than Ruth remembered. Maybe that was because Derek, who stood right behind her, was taller and broader than he’d been in high school. As for the child, Alycia had her mother’s coloring—dark-brown hair and fair complexion—as well as the same heart-shaped face. But Ruth saw Chad Hallston in her as well.

  “Come on,” Derek said, moving around them to lead the way up the walk.

  Ruth smiled her welcome, hoping Brooklyn and Alycia would know it was genuine. Wanting to make sure, she held out her hands. “Brooklyn, my dear. How wonderful to see you again. I’m so glad you could come to stay with me until your house is ready to occupy.”

  A bit of the wariness departed Brooklyn’s blue-gray eyes. “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.”

  “Call me Ruth. Please.” Her gaze dropped to the little girl. “Alycia, welcome to Thunder Creek. I knew your mother when she was your age, and you’re every bit as pretty now as she was then.”

  The child sidled a little closer to Brooklyn, but there was no look of fear in her eyes. Ruth thought that a good sign.

  To Derek she said, “Will you bring in their things, dear, while I show them around?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Ruth motioned toward Brooklyn. “Come inside, you two. You must be hungry after driving all day. As soon as I show you to your rooms, we’ll get you something to eat.” She turned and headed into the house.

  Behind her, Brooklyn said, “We hate to be any bother. I can fix us some—”

  “Bother? Not at all. It’s a joy to have someone to cook for. I rattle around in this big old house all by myself most of the time.”

  On the second floor, she opened the door to her favorite guest room. It had once belonged to her eldest son, Ken. Derek’s father. But it had long since lost all traces of his boyhood. These days the room was distinctly feminine, decorated in varying shades of teal—one of Ruth’s favorite colors—including the floral bedspread on the queen-sized four-poster bed.

  “This will be your room, Brooklyn, and Alycia can stay in the room across the hall.”

  “We could share this one, Mrs. Johnson.”

  “Ruth,” she reminded.

  “Ruth. We don’t mind sharing. Really. We’re used to—”

  “But there’s no need.” Her gaze flicked to Alycia. “Unless you don’t want a room of your own. Here.” She stepped back into the hall. “Let me show you.”

  The room opposite had been her daughter Bianca’s room. And years later, when Bianca’s daughter Samantha had come to stay awhile after graduating from college, it had become her room. It delighted Ruth to think of another girl staying there, even for only a few days.

  Alycia took one look at the canopy bed and the large bay window overlooking the creek and park, and her face broke into a grin. “I’ll stay in here.”

  “Good.” Ruth clapped her hands together. “That’s settled.”

  Footsteps on the stairs told her Derek had arrived with her guests’ belongings. “We’ll leave you two alone to settle in. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready. I’ll have sandwiches prepared and on the table.” She gave mother and daughter a parting smile before leaving.

  Derek wasn’t long behind her.

  “Would you like to stay and eat with us?” she asked him.

  “No, thanks, Gran. I need to get going. I’m on duty for another hour.” He kissed her cheek. “Tell Brooklyn I’ll tow her car to the Hallston house as soon as my shift is over. She can decide what to do with it after that.”

  He was trying hard to be gracious, dear boy. It wasn’t that he was selfish by nature, but letting go of the property he’d saved toward for nearly two years wasn’t easy. She would have to pray for him, as well as for Brooklyn and her daughter. She sensed the days ahead wouldn’t be easy for any of them as they adjusted to their new normals.

  Chapter 4

  After a night of tossing and turning, of debating whether or not to come to see her dad, Brooklyn stood on the sidewalk and stared at the two-bedroom bungalow where she’d grown up. The peach-colored rosebushes that fronted the house were in bloom, giving it a gentle, peaceful appearance. That was a facade. It always had been.

  Her heart pinched. Hope and dread warred within. Hope that her dad had changed. Dread—no, more like certainty—that he would be the same man she’d run away from. But she wouldn’t know until she saw him.

  Steeling herself, she moved up the walkway, stepped onto the stoop, and rapped on the front door. Part of her wished he wouldn’t be at home, that she could delay this meeting for a few more days.

  Or forever.

  But she couldn’t put it off. The last thing she wanted was to run into her dad by chance. She wanted no element of surprise.

  This first meeting in eleven years had to be on her own terms, by her own design. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t afraid of him.

  A sound from inside gave her a moment of warning before the door was yanked open. Her father’s eyes revealed irritation at first, perhaps because of the early hour. Then came recognition, surprise, and anger in quick succession.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  “What are you doing
here?”

  “I want to talk to you. May I come in? I won’t stay long.”

  Brooklyn wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d slammed the door in her face, but in the end all he did was grunt. Then he turned and walked to his favorite chair. She drew a steadying breath and stepped through the doorway. But she didn’t go far.

  Unpleasant memories assaulted her. Her stomach twisted, and again she had to resist the urge to run away. But she wouldn’t. She was done running away. She’d done enough of that in her life. No more. Not anymore.

  Beneath her breath, she whispered, “‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.’”

  “What?” Her dad snarled the word.

  She ignored him as her gaze swept the small living room. The sofa looked the same, except it was more worn. It was in exactly the same place it had always been. How many times had she sat there while her father railed at her about her many shortcomings and failures? Countless.

  She shook off the memory, reminding herself once again that she wasn’t that girl, that her dad couldn’t make her become that girl again, no matter what he said or did.

  “Why are you here, Brooklyn?”

  “I needed to tell you that Alycia and I have come back to Thunder Creek to live.”

  He stiffened away from the back of the recliner. “You’ve what?”

  “Chad . . . Chad passed away this spring, and he left us his parents’ house in his will.”

  “I don’t believe it. Why would he do that? He didn’t want you. He didn’t want either of you. You told me so yourself when you tried to come sniveling back with a brat in your belly.”

  Maybe he couldn’t make her run away, but sadly, his words still had the power to sting, even after all this time.

  “You’re as worthless as your mother ever was.” It was a familiar litany. “You should’ve had the good sense to stay away like she did. Did you come back to embarrass me?”

  As she’d feared, he hadn’t changed. Or perhaps he had. Perhaps he’d grown angrier, more bitter, more hateful with the passage of time. She could almost feel the back of his hand colliding with her cheek.

  She reached behind her for the door. “Think what you like, Dad. My daughter and I are here in Thunder Creek to stay. I . . . I’d hoped things could be different between you and me. But if not, fine.” She squared her shoulders.

  “You shamed me, Brooklyn. Do you hear me? You were a disobedient child, and then you became a tramp, like your mother. Were you pregnant when you ran away with Chad? Did you force him to marry you? Or maybe you tricked him into it. You must have. That boy and his family were too good for the likes of you.”

  Tears began to fill her eyes. Lest he see them, she hurried out of the door as fast as her weakening legs would carry her. She kept going until she’d turned a corner and her girlhood home was out of sight. Then she stopped to lean her back against the trunk of a tree.

  “God,” she whispered, eyes closed, “keep me strong.” She drew in a slow, deep breath through her nose and released it. Once, then again.

  Feeling steadier, she opened her eyes and began to walk. On the way to her dad’s house, she hadn’t seen much of anything. Her thoughts had been too focused on that dreaded first confrontation. Now she took in her surroundings.

  A few of the houses had new coats of paint. Some trees had grown taller and fuller. But mostly the town and the neighborhood she was in looked the same as they did in her memories. And to be fair, not all of her memories were sad or scary ones. For instance—

  Her cell phone rang, startling her. She plucked the phone from the back pocket of her jeans. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth when she saw the caller ID, and she quickly punched the button to answer the call. “Esther.”

  “Hello, Brooklyn.”

  She stopped walking. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing all right. I spent yesterday at the beach, and it was lovely. But I called to see how you are. I trust you arrived in Thunder Creek all right.”

  “Yes. We got here okay. My car conked out just as we got to town, but otherwise it was an uneventful trip.”

  “And?”

  Brooklyn knew there was no point trying to hide the full truth from her friend. “And it isn’t so bad being here. It doesn’t feel as strange as I thought it would.” She drew a quick breath. “I’ve just been to see my dad, to let him know Alycia and I are in town and plan to stay here.” She looked back the way she’d come. “It went about the way I expected it to.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, dear.”

  Not wanting to dwell on the negative, she faced forward and began walking again. “Our house is kind of a wreck. Well, not a wreck really. But plenty dirty from what I could tell. The power wasn’t on yet when we got here, so there were no lights and no water. Plus the windows are all boarded over. We couldn’t stay there, and we really couldn’t afford to stay in the motel. But then we were invited to stay with Ruth Johnson.” She quickly explained who Ruth was and detailed how staying with her had come about.

  “Thank You, Jesus,” Esther said softly when Brooklyn was finished.

  That brought another smile to Brooklyn’s lips.

  “I was afraid you would be lonely your first few days back in Idaho, and I’m grateful God made sure that didn’t happen.”

  “I am lonely for you, Esther.” Her voice caught at the end.

  “My friend, I miss you too. And I’m praying for you and Alycia every single day.”

  Tears came to her eyes again, and this time she didn’t bother to fight them.

  “Brooklyn, I am so very proud of you—for the woman you are, for the woman Jesus is molding you to be. You remember that in the days ahead. Okay?”

  “I will, Esther.”

  “Good.” There was a pause, then Esther added, “I’ve got to hang up now. But we’ll talk again soon. I promise.”

  Ruth’s husband, Walter, had mostly read books that had to do with advancements in medicine. He’d never been much for novels, with the exception of murder mysteries. But their daughter Bianca had devoured all kinds of fiction from a young age. Most of Bianca’s childhood favorites—anything to do with horses, dogs, or girl detectives—had been left in her parents’ home when she’d left for college and had never been reclaimed. Instead, they’d stayed on the bookshelves for her own children to read whenever they came to Thunder Creek to visit Pappy and Gran.

  Now Ruth watched Alycia as she sat on the floor in front of the den bookshelves. Time and again, the girl removed a book from the shelf, studied its cover, opened to the first page, read quickly, then closed and put it back before removing the next one. It had been too many years since a child had been eager to look through the selection of books available in Ruth’s home. She enjoyed watching almost as much as she imagined Alycia enjoyed looking.

  The sound of a closing door drew Ruth’s attention toward the kitchen. “I think your mom is back from her walk. Do you want to stay here or come with me?”

  Alycia didn’t look up. “I’ll stay here, please.”

  Ruth chuckled as she moved away. But in the kitchen, her smile vanished when she saw Brooklyn’s tear-streaked face. “What’s wrong?”

  The young woman shook her head.

  On a hunch, Ruth said, “You went to see your father, and he made you cry.”

  “Yes, I went to see him, and it wasn’t pleasant. But that isn’t why I’m crying.” Brooklyn reached for the tissue box on the counter near the door.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” Ruth asked gently.

  “Where is Alycia? I’d rather she didn’t see me like this.”

  “She’s in the den, going through our old collection of children’s books.”

  “Then I should have plenty of time to compose myself.” The hint of a smile curved the corners of Brooklyn’s mouth. “She loves to read.” She dried her cheeks with the tissue, then patted her eyes. “Sometimes it felt like we lived at the library in Reno on my days off.”

  “Reading�
�s a good pastime for a child. Sparks the imagination.” Ruth motioned toward the kitchen table. “Let me get you some coffee.”

  Brooklyn hesitated a moment before sinking onto one of the chairs. Silence fell over the room while Ruth filled two mugs. A short while later, she settled on a chair opposite the younger woman. Brooklyn held the proffered mug between both hands but didn’t take a sip right away. Ruth had learned to be patient and let silence last as long as was needed.

  Finally, Brooklyn said, “My good friend is dying.”

  “Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry.”

  Brooklyn’s smile was bittersweet. “You sounded just like Esther right then.”

  Without any encouragement on Ruth’s part, Brooklyn told her about Esther Peterman. By the time she was finished, the tears were flowing down her cheeks again.

  Ruth felt like crying herself. “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

  “She is.” Brooklyn took more tissues from the box and blew her nose.

  After another lengthy silence, Ruth decided a change of subject was called for. “So tell me. What are your plans now, Brooklyn?”

  “My plans?”

  “It couldn’t have been easy, returning to your hometown after so long. Even with a house waiting for you. You must have some plans in mind.”

  Brooklyn gave Ruth a look that seemed to say she was glad to talk of something else. “Yes. Actually, I do. I plan to turn the house into a B&B.” She sat straighter as she wiped her eyes with another tissue. “It will take time and money, of course. More than I have at present. But I’m going to do it. I did a lot of research while we were still in Reno, and I’m convinced it’s a great location for what I want to do. Very scenic and right on the way to the fruit orchards and vineyards, not to mention the Snake River. Thunder Creek’s small motel wouldn’t be real competition for it. My B&B would serve a completely different kind of customer. I really think it can succeed.”

  The determination and courage Ruth saw in Brooklyn’s eyes made her want to give a shout of joy. It had never been a secret in Thunder Creek how hard Reggie Myers had been on his daughter, both before and after his wife left him. The girl Ruth remembered had been fearful much of the time, even when she’d tried to hide it with rebellion and bravado. Ruth saw no remnant of that girl in the woman who sat opposite her.