Page 46 of Dusty
Everyone was still gathered in the living room when they walked inside. Dusty had expected them to already be seated at the dinner table, since they’d been headed that way when he’d taken Sharon outside.
“Hey, Dusty,” Shiloh called from his seat on the sofa. “Looks like Santa left a present for you by the hearth. Maybe you should open it.”
Dusty grinned at Sharon. “This ought to be good. Shiloh makes a habit of finding the most obscure and weird stuff forChristmas each year.” He pointed at Shiloh, a mock frown on his face. “What are you up to, bro? I thought we were opening gifts after dinner.”
He heard a few snickers which were quickly muffled.Uh, oh. If they’re all in on it, it’s going to be something really strange or something that’s going to embarrass me in front of the whole family.
“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport, buddy. We went to a lot of trouble searching for the perfect gift, especially for you. Come on, open it.”
He heard echoes of “open it, open it” coming from several of the brothers, though he couldn’t pick out exactly which ones. When he met Sharon’s gaze, she simply shrugged.
A brightly wrapped box sat beside the fireplace, a huge ribbon on top. Instantly suspicious, because after all, this was Shiloh, he picked up the box and gently shook it, hoping it didn’t start ticking or explode. Hmm, so far, so good.
“Dude, I’m not going to have a box of exploding shaving cream in the middle of my momma’s living room.” Shiloh grinned and added, “I’ll wait and do that at your apartment.”
Dusty rolled his eyes and looked at Ms. Patti. Her tender smile made him feel all gooey inside. Truth be told, it was hard to imagine a family he loved more than the Boudreaus, even when the brothers sometimes got on his last nerve. Ms. Patti had her arm wrapped around Sharon’s waist, making her feel part of the holiday celebration, and it warmed his heart that they’d all accepted Sharon as one of them too.
Tearing at the paper covered in little Santas, he found himself staring at a plain cardboard box, and he spotted where a shipping label had been not-so-expertly peeled off. He couldn’t imagine what they’d ordered, and at Shiloh’s suspicious snicker, he had a feeling he was about to be the butt of their jokes for weeks to come.
Peeling back the tape, he felt around the packing paper inside the large box, until he felt something soft and squishy. Not in a gross way, but in a—
“No way!” Laughing, he pulled out a stuffed doll, one he hadn’t seen for so many years; he’d forgotten they existed. It was a Scotty doll. Scotty, the character he’d played on his television show. The irritating neighbor kid with the tag line that became a national sensation.
“Push the button, dude.” Shiloh was laughing almost uncontrollably at this point.
“Yeah, we wanna hear it.” This from Ridge, egging on his twin.
“You know you want to make Scotty say it.” Heath stood by his father, Camilla leaning against him.
“Push the button. Push the button.” The chant grew until everyone was repeating it. Dusty looked at each person, saw the teasing and camaraderie, the joy of friendship, the teasing of brotherhood, and realized he was where he’d always wanted to be. Squeezing the middle of the doll, he listened to his squeaky voice, on the verge of changing as he went from quirky sidekick to an almost teenager, said the words that had made him a star.
“Well, ain’t that a kick in the pants.”
The laughter and smattering of applause had him chuckling along with them, and when he looked at Sharon, he saw love shining in her eyes.
Inside, surrounded by the Boudreau family who had embraced him as one of their own, Dusty knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, Sharon would never have to face them alone. Not anymore. He’d be by her side, and together they could weather any storm.
Tonight was for celebration, for family, for the miracle of finding love in the most unexpected places. A place for new beginnings and newfound love.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
The “Welcome toShiloh Springs” sign hadn’t changed in eighteen years. Same white letters on a brilliant blue background, same patch of wildflowers around the base, with ivy creeping up from the bottom edge, same promise of small-town hospitality that Ethan Randolph had learned long ago to distrust. He eased off the accelerator of his weathered Ford pickup, letting the vehicle slow as memories washed over him like floodwater.
Ethan’s knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. Two decades. He’d spent nearly two decades convincing himself why he should never set foot in this town again. Yet here he was, thirty years old, with a past heavier than the duffel bag tossed in his truck bed, driving down Main Street like some wayward ghost returning to haunt its own grave.
The storefronts had been updated. Wilson’s Hardware was now something called “Crafty Corner”, but the bones of Shiloh Springs remained intact. He could remember coming into town with Douglas Boudreau, riding beside him in the ranch’s pickup, buying supplies for repairs around the ranch. Mr. Wilson had been a gruff old man, but he’d snuck Ethan peppermints from a jar he kept under the counter by the cash register. Even now, the scent of peppermint reminded him of the crotchety old guy.
“You’re a dang fool,” he muttered to himself, turning off Main Street and heading for the local bed and breakfast. He’d looked it up online before heading toward ShilohSprings, not wanting to show up without making sure he had accommodations. After all, he couldn’t stroll up to the front door of the Big House and expect Douglas and Ms. Patti to welcome him with open arms now, could he?
The B&B was exactly the kind of place his mother would choose back in the day—when she was clean and sober, though those days had been few and far between. Looked like it was clean, which was his main requirement. He wasn’t picky. A place with a roof and a bed and one that didn’t have rats sharing his space sounded like heaven. Growing up, he’d found himself in a host of those cheap, anonymous motels, the kind where no one asked questions when a woman with hollow eyes and a boy who’d learned to make himself invisible checked in. The cities and states might have varied, but the type of place they landed never did.
Never again.
Ethan killed the engine and sat in silence; his dark eyes fixed on nothing in particular. The air conditioning sputtered out with a dying wheeze, and the mid-afternoon heat immediately began to press against the windows. He hadn’t called ahead. Hadn’t warned anyone he was coming. For all he knew, Douglas and Patricia Boudreau weren’t even in Shiloh Springs anymore.
The thought sent a spike of panic through his chest he quickly tamped down. That was the first thing he’d checked—made sure they were still here. Still alive. The alternative wasn’t something he could face, not after everything else he’d lost.
