Free Secret Vow by Susan R. Hughes Page B

point of doing some of the things with me that a dad might have done with his son. I could see how it repulsed her to dispatch the poor creatures, and to clean them afterwards.” The bittersweet memory made him chuckle. “But she didn’t complain. I’ll never forget that she did that for me.”
    When he looked at Brooke she was studying his face, absorbing the sentiment in his words. “Sounds like she was a great mom.”
    Ian tore a clump of grass from the earth at his feet, and then tossed the blades into the distance. “Not that great, to be honest. I was left alone a lot. Or I might as well have been, when she was passed out on the sofa. Much of the time, it was up to me to do the cooking and cleaning.”
    Letting her knees drop to rest on the blanket, Brooke shifted sideways to face him. “I had no idea.”
    “I didn’t tell anyone. I was afraid I’d be removed from my home and put into foster care, or maybe shipped off to relatives I’d never met in Alberta. Or worse, end up with my dad, whom I barely knew—other than through all the stories I’d heard of his cheque fraud schemes.” He sighed, letting the memories filter in, as uncomfortable as it was to dwell on them. “Anyway, I thought that eventually my mother would pull herself together, if I stuck by to help her. She always talked about getting sober. It was her New Year’s resolution every year. Never lasted the winter, of course. I don’t know if she would’ve ever succeeded, but I like to think she might have, given enough of a chance.”
    “I’m so sorry, Ian.” Brooke rested her hand in his shoulder, a warm pressure through the fabric of his shirt. She searched his eyes with her brow creased and her soft, alluring lips compressed in sympathy.
    “I don’t want you to feel sorry,” he told her, averting his gaze. “I just want you to know about me. I didn’t talk about my mother’s death much as a kid; it was as though this one event in my life defined me, and I couldn’t escape it. Since I’ve been back in Eastport, I’ve felt free of it. I’m just a plain old small-town lawyer now, not the tragedy-plagued boy with the petty criminal father and the mother killed by a hit-and-run.”
    “Is that why you came back?” Brooke asked gently. “To make peace with your past?”
    “In a way.” Ian hadn’t voiced these thoughts before, or even sorted through them in his own mind, and it felt right to express them to Brooke now. “But I guess, as a kid, what I wanted more than anything was a home, like the one you had, where I could feel cherished and protected. Even though I never really had that here, Eastport was still my comfort zone. I’ve always thought that I’d find the home and family I always longed for here.” As he spoke he realized that the person he’d imagined sharing that dream with was the person sitting next to him now. He’d never really believed that particular dream had a chance of coming to reality—and he didn’t quite dare to hope there was a chance now.
    Brooke’s hand drifted down his arm, coming to rest on his elbow; she gripped it gently to stress her next words. “Ian, I want you to know, I never felt sorry for you. And I never thought I was too good for you. If anything, you’re too good for me.”
    A small smile curved his mouth, as sudden warmth spread beneath his breastbone. “I don’t know how you can say that.”
    She shrugged, her eyes downcast. “It’s pretty easy. I’m not feeling very good about myself these days.”
    Ian thought he understood what she meant; having left her job and the city she’d grown accustomed to, with no plan for the future, she felt directionless. “Listen, Brooke. I apologize for coming on so strong the other day. I had no right to judge you. I know you’re feeling lost right now. It doesn’t help to have me making demands and adding to the stress you’re already dealing with.”
    She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I’ve been sending plenty