Page 61 of Hard Rain Coming

It was the kind of head space she didn’t have time for.

Restless, she got up and inspected the books lined up on top of the dresser. Someone was a huge Nora Roberts fan. There had to be at least ten of her novels, plus a random biography of a man who lived in the Arctic studying penguins. With nothing else to look at or inspect, she grabbed her purse and made her way downstairs.

There was a painting in the foyer, one she hadn’t noticed before. She wandered over to it. It was beautiful. A woman in silhouette with silky dark hair, belly heavy with child, staring at something just beyond the scope of the painting. It was interesting. You couldn’t see what she was looking at, but you knew it was someone she loved. It was in the colors, the tilt of her head, the soft smile that curved her lips.

Vivian stepped closer to read the name of the artist. Shane Gallagher.

She’d heard of him, of course. In fact, she’d attended a showing of his work in New York City a few years back with Jack.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Vivian smiled when she spied Miss Callie coming in from the kitchen. “It is.”

The woman walked over and stood beside Vivian, staring up at the painting with a look that was pure joy. “He’s a friend.”

“Is that his wife?”

Miss Callie nodded. “Yes. She was a guest of mine a few years back. Quite the woman.” Miss Callie wiped her hands down the apron she wore and turned to Vivian. “Did you find what it was you were looking for?”

“Yes,” she replied softly. “And no.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess we’ll see.”

Miss Callie studied her for a few seconds, her eyes soft, her smile open and honest. “You have a good heart. I can see that. I always like to think that folks with good hearts find exactly what they need to keep that heart blooming. You came to Belle Adair for a reason, and whatever that reason is, you’ll find it. Or it will find you. That’s the way of things in this part of the South.” She winked. “Now, how about a spot of sweet tea on the back porch?”

Vivian nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

“You go on out back and make yourself comfortable. I have a new customer checking in soon, and once I get him settled, I’ll bring you the sweet tea and some sugar cookies.”

The yard backyard was a paradise of flowering bushes, oak trees with moss-heavy branches, and colorful gardens filled with flowers and statues and beautiful glasswork. She chose a seat in the corner and closed her eyes as she sank back.

It was quiet out here. She finally felt as if she could breathe. She smelled fresh-cut grass and something sweet. Honeysuckle? In the distance, the drone of an airplane was the only sound to cut through the quiet. It was a sad, melancholy sort of sound, but the world felt somehow lighter as she let her head fall back.

She must have dozed, because she woke suddenly and was disoriented at first. After a few moments, she sat forward and blinked away her exhaustion. She spied a tray on the small table. It held a carafe of sweet tea. There were two glasses poured—one was half empty. Beside it sat a small plate of cookies.

Only then did she become aware that she wasn’t alone. And before she turned her head, she knew.

Just like always.

Heart pounding so loud against her chest she was certain he could hear it, Vivian looked up into a pair of eyes that regarded her with such tenderness, she knew she was about to fall apart.

And yet she didn’t care.

“Dallas,” she whispered.

“Hey,” was all he said before the floodgates opened, and all the pain and tears and fear inside her fell out. It was ugly. Animalistic. And she would have hidden her face in shame, but Dallas touched her chin so she could do nothing but look up at him. A sob escaped, and she shuddered against him as his arms wrapped around her.

He kissed the top of her head, his voice rough and strange. “Let it all out. I’m not letting you go.”

“You’re here,” she said, voice broken.

“Yes,” he replied thickly. “I’m here.”

Chapter Twenty

Dallas held Vivian until the last tear fell.

And then he scooped her into his arms, sat down on the steps, and cradled her in silence. It wasn’t an easy silence. It was full of things unsaid, and a past that was chock-full of hurt. It was the kind of silence they shared equally because all the things unsaid belonged to the two of them.

After a while, Vivian stirred. “How did you find me?” she asked quietly.