Bridging hope, p.1

Bridging Hope, page 1

 

Bridging Hope
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Bridging Hope


  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Bridging Hope

  Read More

  About the Author

  By Greyson McCoy

  More from Dreamspinner Press

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Bridging Hope

  By Greyson McCoy

  When workaholic Pierce Simms’s sister passes, he suddenly finds himself unemployed, back in the hometown he fled, and raising his niece and nephew. Despite that, he’s confident he has things under control—at least until his sister’s high-school sweetheart shows up.

  With his teaching grant ended, Dalton O’Dell is at loose ends and tight purse strings. Just as the world crashes down on him, he learns his ex-girlfriend has passed and named him guardian of her two young children. Chaos ensues when he and her brother, Pierce, are forced together to raise the toddlers in Pierce’s family farmhouse.

  Nestled in the enchanting beauty of the farm, Pierce and Dalton bond over the challenges of co-parenting and their shared grief as unexpected love blossoms. Love might not be enough, however, if they can’t learn to bridge the gap between their different worlds and overcome the trauma of their pasts.

  With special thanks to Jo Bird and Renee Mizar.

  Pierce Simms

  THE DAMP January fog seeped into my bones as it drifted slowly across the desolate churchyard. The simple, dilapidated church kept vigil over the mismatched gravestones. My sister’s grave had just begun capturing frost buds on its pile of raw earth.

  I glanced at the stone behind me and shivered at the memories of our father. I’d left home at sixteen, after his beatings became intolerable, but Lizzie, she had stayed. What hell had she endured in my absence? I didn’t remember Dad ever beating her, and in the handful of months I’d stayed with her recently, she swore he never had.

  I sighed, trying to ease the tension bunching my shoulders. Soon, I’d have to pick up my nephew and niece from day care. I was supposed to take them with me. Dang, I dreaded that meeting! Oh well, thank God Lizzie had arranged for day care and had a good enough life insurance policy to keep it going after her death. It hadn’t been a huge policy, but it’d truly helped. The kids as much as me. I barely knew them, both under four years old. The consistency of day care was a godsend.

  I checked my phone for word from my attorney, Sam. She’d assured me she could make it to the meeting. Luckily she’d taken the case after I’d learned Lizzie had chosen an ex-boyfriend as their guardian. With all that was going on trying to acclimate to being a parent after losing my only sister, this was a complication I could’ve done without.

  Sam, ever my friend and advocate, had talked me off the proverbial ledge the day Lizzie’s will was read and I learned I’d have to fight for custody of my niece and nephew.

  “He’s not their dad, so even if he gets in touch, you have a strong case for guardianship,” Sam had assured me.

  “But I barely know them,” I whined, causing Sam to rub my shoulder before continuing.

  “You’ve got a valid excuse for having stayed away. Your father was abusive, and there’s plenty of evidence to support that.”

  I clung to her confidence but had an uneasy feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing in my life had ever been easy.

  Sam had known me since I was young. Fresh out of law school, she stood up for me when my dad turned up at the shelter. I hated to think about what would’ve happened without her and the Beacon Light Shelter.

  Death, probably. I shivered again as I headed to my car.

  Everything, including saving my own life, had come at a cost. I didn’t really know my sister any longer. Her kids were strangers, and I hadn’t been back to Wilcox in more than a decade.

  But even after everything the old man had done, even after I’d run away, he’d left me the farm. Lizzie had kept the old place up. No actual farming had been done for a long time, from the looks of things, although it was clear that over the years, Lizzie had at least kept the weeds mowed down. Had she not, it would’ve been a total disaster.

  Shortly after coming home to help, I’d asked her why Dad hadn’t given the farm to her. She refused to speak of it. Wouldn’t even answer the question, only changed the subject.

  Assuming she wanted to keep our last days together positive, I didn’t push her for answers. Our father was a jerk of epic proportions. I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to think about him or his hateful motivations during her last days of life.

  I glanced at the graveyard from my car, almost able to make out the mound of soil that had yet to settle into my sister’s grave. We’d only had six months together before the end. Sadness poured over me. How was it possible she was really gone?

  I started the car and began to ease out of the parking lot. I guess I will never know if it was fate or luck that led to my tech job ending just weeks before Lizzie called with the news she was sick. The decision had been easier than I expected. I gave notice on my apartment, packed my stuff, and pulled up stakes in Portland.

  I’d long ago sworn never to set foot in Wilcox again. But things never went as planned. Somehow, having set fresh eyes upon the gentle rolling hills of Umpqua County, I was able to be here without all the drama that’d been associated with it all these years. Maybe some of that therapy the shelter had foisted on me had helped. Maybe I just missed having a connection with family. Regardless, I was here now and with two beautiful little people firmly ensconced in my heart.

  Dalton O’Dell

  THE DATED paneled walls and 1990s furniture in my uncle’s law office usually comforted me, but now they seemed to scratch against my skin like a poor-quality wool sweater.

  Nervous energy crackled around me as I sat staring at my phone, determined to distract myself before my life took a complete nosedive into the unknown.

  Aunt Polly sat beside me and had been trying to reassure me all morning.

  Uncle Tim, who was also my attorney, patted my shoulder. “Don’t expect much today,” he said. “Just get to know them, and we’ll assess the situation.”

  My world had been in free fall for over a month. First, my grant for teaching farming to city kids ended, leaving me unemployed. Then my friend and sort-of high school ex-girlfriend Lizzie passed away. Now I’d moved back to Wilcox and was about to meet two children I was supposed to raise. Lizzie’s will had made me their guardian in the event of her death. That had shocked me to my core.

  Taking deep breaths, I convinced myself all would be okay. Then the door to the office swung open. It only took me a moment to recognize the man who walked in carrying a baby and holding hands with a toddler. He was tall, with a handsome face and linebacker shoulders that trimmed down nicely to a small waist. Pierce Simms, Lizzie’s older brother.

  I stood, trying to decide if I should go to shake the man’s hand, when the baby in his arms arched back and started screaming bloody murder. My God, that kid had some lungs. I froze, unsure of what to do or how to help. I was instantly and completely overwhelmed.

  I watched in amazement as Pierce gently soothed the fussing baby while occasionally glancing up at me with what I could only call a death glare. I began to sweat a little. I’m not sure what overwhelmed me, his intimidating look or the lust surging through me at seeing someone so protective, yet so patient.

  I hadn’t really known him, since he had left home as a teenager, but I remembered how Lizzie had felt abandoned. She hadn’t told me she’d reconnected with him. One of many things she apparently hadn’t told me.

  I swallowed hard and thanked all that was good when Uncle Tim led us to the conference room. It took Pierce’s attention off me long enough that I could get my bearings. This all felt so surreal.

  “Let’s discuss how to proceed,” Pierce’s attorney, a short, businesslike woman, said. For thirty minutes, Pierce kept the baby occupied while his attorney and Uncle Tim discussed the details of the will. I sat watching Pierce.

  The little girl kept bringing her uncle toys that had been left in the office for kids to play with, and each time, he’d smile or ask her questions. Eventually, the baby boy settled and snuggled sleepily in his arms. That’s when my heart melted. This wasn’t an absentee uncle. Clearly, he was important to them and vice versa. It made me question whether a custody fight was prudent.

  “Why did Lizzie want me to raise her kids instead of you?” I blurted, interrupting our attorneys and surprising myself.

  A pained expression crossed Pierce’s face as he spoke to me for the first time. “When she made her will, she probably figured I’d never come back. We were… estranged,” he said, voice gruff.

  “But you’re back now, and these two seem to trust you. How long have you been taking care of them?”

  His pained look morphed into one so grief-stricken I felt tempted to hug him. “About six months,” he whispered.

  I nodded in thought. “Do you have a job? Are you married? What’s your wife like? Is she on board with helping raise them?”

  My uncle cleared his throat, signaling to me to let the lawyers handle the questioning, but I couldn’t help myself. For a moment, Pierce looked a little stunned by the sudden barrage, but he answered. “I’m recently unemployed, but I received a good severance package. I’m set for at least a few months before I need to work full-time again. I’m not married.” He hesitated then, his face resolute, before spinning the question back around. “You?”

  I shrugged. “Unmarried and recently unemployed as well.” Ignoring his challenging stare

, I continued honestly. “I see these two love you, depend on you. I don’t understand all this, but I trust Lizzie had her reasons for naming me their guardian. I won’t relinquish that responsibility. Not without knowing for certain they’re in good hands.”

  Pierce nodded, and his expression softened a little. “I’m not stepping out of their lives without knowing the same thing. Frankie and Max have already been through too much for two little kids. I’ll be here until they don’t need me.”

  “So we’re at an impasse,” I said.

  Uncle Tim cleared his throat again. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity. Mr. Simms, may I call you Pierce? I understand you inherited your father’s farm?” Pierce glanced at him and nodded. “And Dalton, you’re looking for a place to stay. Why don’t you boys combine forces? Dalton, your farming experience might be of great help to Pierce, and you’ll both have time to get to know one another and observe the other’s parenting style.”

  I looked at my uncle, aghast. “Uncle Tim, that’s probably not a good idea. Mr. Simms, surely you have a girlfriend or something? I couldn’t impose—”

  Pierce barked out a laugh, nearly waking baby Max, who’d fallen asleep in his arms. “I’m gay and single.” He glanced down at his nephew, then over to his niece, Frankie, before refocusing on me. “I understand you work with kids, but do you feel comfortable caring for kids this young?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t have much experience being around kids this age. In my previous job, they already knew their ABCs when they came to me.”

  Pierce appeared lost in thought before he sighed and his shoulders dropped, as if he were giving up the fight. “Honestly, I could use the help. When Lizzie got sick, friends and neighbors helped, but that tapered off. Now it’s just us. I could use another pair of adult hands, especially at night.”

  “And there’s room at your house?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying in my sister’s room, which has an adjoining area where the kids sleep. You could take the main bedroom right across the hall. But fair warning,” he said, a mischievous smile forming on his lips, “if you move in, you’ll have night duty too. Max only sleeps four or five hours, which means 1:00 a.m. diaper-changing time. You up for that?”

  I could tell he was testing me, and screw him. I slept like the dead, but I could set an alarm.

  I nodded. “I’m up for it if you are.”

  We both looked at our attorneys, who wore matching grins. “Well, then,” Uncle Tim said, “sounds like we’ve got a plan.”

  Only then did the reality of my situation hit me. What the hell was I doing moving in with a stranger? It was one thing to raise two kids, but doing so with someone I didn’t know?

  I let my breath out slowly, keeping my cool, then asked when and where to meet up.

  “Do you have much to pack? Do you need help moving?”

  I laughed. “Nope, what I own is in my truck.”

  “Well, no time like the present, then. Just follow me to the farm.”

  Crap, crap, crap, I repeated in my head, but I managed a smile.

  “While you’re at it, might as well have him show you how to put this cutie in the car seat. It’s a skill you’re gonna need,” Aunt Polly said, sounding a little too happy with my circumstances as she picked up Frankie and handed her to me.

  The little girl beamed. “You’re gonna come to my house?” she asked.

  “I guess I am,” I said, smiling at the little cutie.

  “Yay! You can play with my cha ra.”

  I looked over at Pierce, hoping for a clue.

  “It’s a push toy,” he said, grinning in a knowing way that promised all sorts of grief for me. “You push, she rides.”

  “Well, then let’s go play cha ra.”

  Frankie wriggled down, took my hand, and led me out of the office. I looked back at my smug aunt and uncle and knew I’d been set up.

  Pierce

  “WHAT THE heck happened back there?” I asked Sam over Bluetooth as I drove to the farm.

  “Looks to me like the ideal outcome happened. Besides, did you see how cute Dalton is? You must be popping a vessel knowing sexy ex-boyfriend is going to be across the hall, right?” she asked, sounding amused. “You know you can’t mess around, though. Don’t crap in your own bed.”

  “Ugh, stop. He’s my sister’s ex-boyfriend, not mine. Whose side are you on, anyway?” I asked and checked the rearview mirror to see Max was still asleep and Frankie was playing with a toy she’d swiped from the lawyer’s office. I’d have to return that later.

  “I’m on the side of whatever’s right for you and those kids. Dalton’s cute and solid, and now he’s moving in to help you with the kids. It’s like having a free live-in nanny.”

  “Free for him, you mean. I’m providing room and board,” I said, and she laughed.

  “You forget, I’ve heard Max wail. Anyone who willingly helps manage that in the middle of the night is worth more than you’d ever get in rent.”

  “Whatever,” I said, chuckling. She wasn’t wrong. “I’m getting close to the house. I’ll call you later.”

  I looked in the rearview mirror again, this time at the man driving behind me. His truck was older but decent. He didn’t appear to be a massive spendthrift, at least. He’d also seemed genuine when asking me questions that had shocked me, but they were purposeful questions that meant he cared. He couldn’t fake that kind of sincerity. He cared about the little ones and must’ve cared about Lizzie too.

  I figured he’d tell me before the weekend if he felt cut out to be a father. I still had my doubts. If he’d been older, married, and living in suburbia, I’d be less concerned. But as a young, good-looking single guy who likely had a robust dating life, why would he permanently hitch himself to two kids not even related to him?

  Lizzie naming Dalton in her will had come as a shock. She hadn’t told me. Instead, I learned about it from the estate lawyer, someone out of Eugene. Lizzie had entrusted me with a few odds and ends she’d owned, but not her kids.

  Dalton hadn’t contacted anyone right away, so I’d hoped he wouldn’t and Sam could get my guardianship paperwork submitted. This wasn’t the life I’d planned for myself, but I’d do my damnedest to make it work and ensure my niece and nephew had the life they deserved.

  I had mostly given up on having a social life anyway. I’d gone wild for several years after I left home, sleeping with guys I barely knew—a long string of Grindr hookups. It wasn’t until the last few years I realized screwing around was getting me nowhere. I wanted something more, although I wasn’t sure what that might be. Relationships weren’t my strong suit. More than one guy who’d tried getting close left in a flurry of drama and yelling. Clearly, I had no idea how to be more. Whatever that meant.

  Also, wanting more didn’t mean I didn’t have an itch to scratch occasionally. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed Dalton’s thin and trim body. His slightly too-tight shirt showed off what he had to offer, and I silently enjoyed the view. With his brown hair cut in the perfect boy-next-door way, he was totally my type. He would’ve been a good tool for scratching, but even if he swung my way, Sam had a point. I owed it to the kids not to jeopardize the fragile truce between Dalton and me.

  I sighed as we pulled into the driveway. Dalton came around and helped me get the little ones inside. I lugged a sleeping car-seat-strapped Max up the front steps while Dalton carried Frankie, who looked drowsy. We’d blown past her usual late-afternoon nap time during the meeting.

  “Can you put Frankie on the couch?” I said, pointing toward the living room. “You can hang out with her while I get supper on. She’s tired now, but she’ll be wide-awake and hungry soon.”

  He nodded, and I watched as he gently placed Frankie on the couch, draped a blanket over her, and then sat on the floor next to her. Catching myself smiling, I made a beeline for the kitchen.

  The crib in the kitchen sat next to the fireplace our grandparents had converted to gas. As had become routine, I flipped it on and let it warm the room.

  This part of Oregon wasn’t particularly cold in the fall, and the weather not especially bad. Umpqua County got snow from time to time, and the temperature would dip below freezing at night often enough, but it remained tolerable. The damp cold could settle uncomfortably into your bones, though, especially in the evening with a drafty old farmhouse like this one.

 

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