Page 69 of Hard Knock Hero

“You all right?” I asked.

“Coffee?” he grunted instead of answering my question. So I let it go.

“Coming right up. I’m making breakfast too.” I started getting out the ingredients for chocolate chip raspberry muffins, one of my personal favorites.

“So what’s the deal with your friend who spent the night?”

I shrugged. My brother hadn’t answeredmyquestion. It wasn’t his business what I was doing with Aiden. But on the other hand, I didn’t mind talking about him. “He got stuck in town when the bridge was damaged in the storm. He stepped in to help me when he didn’t have to. I like him.”

“That’s obvious. How did he help?”

I recounted what had happened the last few days. How Aiden had stopped Chester from hurting me, set up the charity dinner that helped me earn my rent money. How he’d defended me when the brick sailed through my window, and again on Refuge Mountain. “He was pretending to be you,” I said. “I told people he was my brother.”

Trace looked amused. “And why would you do that?”

“Somehow it seemed like a good idea at the time.” I measured out flour and sugar into a mixing bowl. Trace leaned his hip against the counter.

“Then you haven’t changed that much. I remember when you posted signs around our neighborhood looking for a best friend. Then Dad went around, taking them all down before some creep responded.”

“Aiden’s not acreep.”

“Didn’t say he was.”

But I knew the point Trace was making. That I was a dreamer full of ridiculous, impulsive hopes. I was well aware of my tendencies.

I was stirring the milk and eggs into the batter way too hard. I forced myself to stop before too much gluten could form. “Aiden chose to spend his vacation time here,” I said. “Changed his plans for me. But tomorrow’s the end. He has to go. I’ve always known Aiden would be leaving, and he never misled me about that.”

“Leaving isn’t a bad idea. It sounds like you’re in the middle of a mess here in Hartley, one that doesn’t even have much to do with you. Why don’t we pack up your stuff, and we can get out of here for a while. Or forever. Either way, if trouble’s coming, the best thing for you to do is get out of its way.”

I set the bowl of batter aside with a thunk. “That’s not why I asked you here. Hartley is my home. If I wanted to leave, I could’ve done that myself.”

“Honestly? I wasn’t even sure why you called. I was surprised.”

“As surprised as I was that you said yes.” I glared at him. He looked impassively back. What was it with these stoic ex-military men? At least Aiden had started showing more to me.

I stirred in the chocolate chips and the raspberries. Then dished out batter into muffin cups. “Trace, you’ve never told me much about your life. I know about the Army, and things that Dad said about your work for the government overseas. Then suddenly you’re back in Virginia. You’ve lost weight. You look like you haven’t slept in months.”

“That’s true. I haven’t.”

I laughed without any humor. This was the one decent family relationship I had after our father had died, and my brother wouldn’t even share the basics about his life with me. “I know I’m not the only one with problems. The world doesn’t revolve around me. Whatever is going on with you, you can tell me. I’m your sister, and I want to be here for you. We could help each other.”

He didn’t respond. Instead he looked down at the tile floor, his long hair falling across his face.

“Even now, you don’t want to tell me. Do you not trust me? Or you think I’m too weak to hear it? Aiden thinks you’re a spy. I’m just a girl working in a diner in a small town. A girl who fell for the oldest story in the book—a no-good boyfriend—and wound up in a bad situation. But I’m not weak, Trace. I’m so much stronger for all I’ve been through, and Aiden sees that. After knowing me for three days, hesees me. What does it say that my own brother can’t?”

“It says I’m a coward,” he said softly. “If anybody can’t handle their own shit, it’s me.”

I waited for him to explain. Finally, he raised his head.

“When you called me asking me to come here, it was like a damn sign. The possibility of something new that would wipe my slate clean. When I packed up my stuff a few days ago, I did it knowing I wasn’t going back to Virginia or DC. The work I was doing before, my old life, isover. Whether I stay in Hartley or some other place, it doesn’t change the fact that I’mhere. And you’re all I’ve got.”

That soliloquy had barely scratched the surface of what was inside my brother’s mind. But what else could I do?

I pulled him into a hug.

Trace and I had never been very affectionate. Even now, he held himself stiffly in my arms. But I realized how much I needed this. No matter what else happened from now on, Trace planned to stay with me.

He had his own issues. So did I. But together, maybe we could start figuring it out.

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