Page 93 of A Vintage of Regret
Riley slid into the backseat of her brother’s SUV. So many things in her life were still uncertain. But she had Bryson—and she had her siblings—that was what mattered most.
Nineteen
Bryson paced on the front porch, pausing to stare down the stretch of road heading away from town, searching for Grant’s SUV.
“Relax, son,” his father said. “It’s over.”
Bryson shook his head. “We might have the answers we needed to clear Grant, but for them? This is far from over. They lost their father and now, their mother. It’s going to take a long time for them to heal from this.” Bryson pressed his hands on the railing and stared at the sky. “If ever.”
His father stood next to him, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. “What those three brave souls did wasn’t just about making sure Grant didn’t go to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. It was about rebuilding a family.”
Bryson swallowed the bile that bubbled up his throat. He shifted his gaze, staring at his dad. His hero. The man he aspired to be like his entire life. “Maybe, but it doesn’t make this any easier.”
“No one can be prepared for something like what those three are going through, or the fallout it’s created,” his dad said. “However, what you need to remember is they went into this believing Elizabeth was not only capable of setting up her son…but also killing Sean. Given time, support, and the bond they’re creating with each other, they will survive this.”
Bryson ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a long breath. His chest tightened. “Old fears are resurfacing,” he said softly.
“You’re afraid Riley will run.”
“A little,” Bryson admitted. “Maybe not race off to parts unknown, but from me.”
“She’s just returned home, and a lot has happened.” His father took him by the shoulders. “I understand you have regrets. That you look back to those years and think of all the things you could’ve done differently. Thing is, all that matters is that you’re there for her now. Be the roots she can ground herself to. The love the two of you have for one another has always been… enough. But like grapes, the time has to be right. This is the right vintage for you and Riley.”
In the distance, Grant’s vehicle came into view. “I hope your interesting metaphor is accurate.”
“I’ll leave you alone.” His dad slipped into the house as Bryson stood there with his heart beating like a caged animal.
Grant’s shiny SUV rolled up the long drive, the sound cutting through the quiet that had settled over the Boone property. Bryson leaned against the porch rail, arms folded, waiting as patiently as possible. This wasn’t about him.
The sun had started its climb toward the center of the sky, casting the yard in a wash of gold that felt almost too good for the emotions swirling in his gut.
The rear passenger door opened first—Riley stepping out, shoulders squared like she’d had to brace them into place. Erin followed, exhaustion carved into her expression. Grant rounded the hood, his jaw tight, eyes shadowed. For a moment, Bryson wasn’t sure which of them was holding the others up.
“I’m not sure I even know what to say,” Bryson said when they reached the steps.
Grant met his gaze, stretching out his hand. “Probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he said quietly.
Bryson pushed his arm aside and pulled him in for a hug. It lasted only a few seconds. Strong. Stoic. Two men, letting go of years of… he had no idea. And forging a new brotherhood that couldn’t ever be broken.
“Thank you.” Grant took a step back. “Not sure any of us could’ve gotten through this without you and your family.”
“As your dad would say… It’s what the family we choose does.”
Grant chuckled. “When Kelly and I got married, he told me that the most important family is often the ones we pick and that I picked a good one with her.” Grant swiped his hands across his face. “He was right. I think he was always right, I was just too damn…” He blew out a puff of air.
“Don’t do that to yourself.” Erin eased closer to Grant, resting her hand on his back. “Through all the ups and downs. The fights. The craziness. He loved us. All of us. And he was proud of you.”
Grant looped an arm around each sister. “He’d be most proud of this. Of us. We’re good now. You know that, right?”
Erin nodded first, quick and certain.
He pulled her in for a hug—brief, almost fierce—before turning to Riley. She hesitated for half a beat, then stepped into his arms. Her chin trembled against his shoulder, but she held it together until he let her go. “I love you, big brother.”
“Right back at you, baby sis,” Grant said. “I’ve got to get to the station. Sandy needs my statement. I’ll call when I’m done.”
Erin touched his arm. “We’ll be here.”
Grant flicked his gaze back to Bryson—one more silent acknowledgment—and then turned away. The SUV rolled outof the drive, tires kicking up dust as it disappeared around the bend.
