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He glanced over his shoulder, expecting Hunter’s mother.
No. Hannah.
Surprised, he got to his feet and brushed dried grass from his pants. He’d seen her at the funeral, of course, but she’d stood with her parents and James while he’d stood with his brothers.
They’d barely spoken all week—and when they had talked, it had seemed accidental, as if he’d caught her by surprise when he was stopping in to see his brothers.
Here he’d thought it was awkward before.
“Hey,” he said, when she drew close. He couldn’t keep the confusion out of his voice.
“Hey yourself,” she said in return. She gave him a clear once-over. “You look good in a suit.”
Michael found himself blushing and told himself to knock it off. “I had to buy it for court.” He wanted to tell her she looked good in her wool skirt and boots, but he wasn’t sure how that would come across.
But she did. She somehow looked soft and gentle, yet strong and fearless at the same time.
His brothers had offered to talk to Hannah on his behalf, and he’d told them to stay out of it and keep their mouths shut. Right now, facing her, he regretted that. He’d do anything for a little insight.
Hannah looked around. “At first I thought this was an odd place for a funeral, but now I think I kind of get it.”
They stood at the edge of a large, open field by the water, part of Lake Waterford Park. Hunter’s mother had chosen the location—she’d wanted to have a service somewhere her son would have enjoyed spending time.
A gravestone would be going next to his father’s, back at some cemetery in Pennsylvania.
Michael preferred the atmosphere here. He was glad there’d been no body to bury. Watching a box get lowered into the ground, feeling every shovelful of dirt—he wouldn’t have been able to take it. His parents’ funeral had been bad for exactly that reason, but Hunter was different. Hunter was a kid. He’d trusted Michael. Relied on him.
Michael wouldn’t get over this easily.
He cleared his throat. “I get it, too.”
Hannah looked up at him, wincing a bit at the sunlight. “Want to go for a walk?”
He blinked, surprised, then grabbed his coat. “Sure.”
So they walked, Casper ambling along between them. Maybe she wanted closure. Maybe his brothers were making her crazy. Michael had no idea. He expected her to talk, but she walked in silence.
He didn’t mind.
Eventually, she glanced up at him. “I’m sorry the judge denied custody.”
That had happened yesterday. After everything he’d lost, Michael had hoped fate would cut him some slack.
Fate had punched him in the gut. He still felt the blow.
But it wasn’t permanent. The judge had given him thirty days to figure out a suitable living situation.
A month without his brothers. He thought back to his dad’s mantra: You can do anything for fifteen minutes.
Thirty days was a hell of a lot longer than fifteen minutes.
But he understood it. When he’d been eighteen, he would have fought like hell to challenge even that. Now? His brothers’ lecture the night they’d lost Hunter still echoed in his mind. They were old enough to take care of themselves—a little.
He needed the time anyway. To get his life back together.
He glanced at Hannah. “I understand why the judge did what she did. Your dad—he’s been amazing. It’s a relief knowing they’ll stay together, and that I know where they are... ” He stopped walking and looked at her. “Wait. This isn’t why you came out here, is it? Have your parents changed their minds about letting them stay? I know a month is a long time, and—”
“No! No, Michael, they didn’t change their minds. Are you kidding? My mother has practically adopted them already. It might break her heart when they leave.”
