Letters from Peaceful Lane (New Americana 3)

But Allison would never know the details of their journey toward forgiveness and healing. After the letter about her affair, Kate had written no more—or if she had, the letters hadn’t been saved.

The next letter, postmarked almost seven years later, was the one Kate had written to tell Burke about her cancer. Allison could only imagine that the years between had been good ones, filled with love and happy family times, and that Kate had fought her illness bravely to the end.

There was no way for Allison to know for sure because, for whatever reason, there were no more letters. Maybe the cancer treatments had left Kate too exhausted to write. Or maybe Burke had come home to take care of his wife and daughter.

Now only the thick white envelope, with Burke’s name and instructions to open it after Kate’s death, remained unopened. It had been sealed for a reason, Allison told herself. Whatever was inside—another letter, a will, a family secret, even money, it wasn’t meant to be seen. It appeared that Burke had been given the envelope by Kate while she was still alive, and that after putting it away with the other letters, he’d either forgotten about it or been in too much emotional pain to look at its contents. Or maybe he’d opened it carefully and glued the flap shut again. The only thing Allison knew for sure was that nothing inside was any business of hers.

Standing, she dropped the last of Kate’s letters into the large manila envelope and slid it back under the mattress. She had finished reading the letters, but with Burke working downstairs, she would have to keep them hidden until the coast was clear to return the packet to his desk.

She had no sooner turned away from the bed than the door swung open without a knock and Brianna burst into the bedroom. “I got it, Allison! I got the job!” She was literally dancing with excitement.

“The one at the newspaper?” Allison knew that Brianna had interviewed for a part-time position with the Branson Tri-Lake News, a biweekly paper that covered local personalities and events.

“Yes!” She flung herself onto the bed, bouncing like a five-year-old. “It isn’t exactly the New York Times, I know, but I’ll be a real live journalist, even doing interviews! And I’ll still have time to do my community service.”

“Congratulations. That’s wonderful,” Allison said. “Have you told your dad?”

“I told him just now. It’s the first time I’ve seen a real smile on his face since the accident.”

“And have you told Liam?”

“He’ll be working today. I’ll call him tonight.”

“We should celebrate,” Allison said, remembering her promise to alert Brianna about Garrett. “Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet. Are you offering to take me?”

“Anywhere you want to go. My treat. And we can bring home a meal in a box for your dad to warm up later.”

“That sounds great. I’ll tell him we’re going and see what he’d like.”

Allison grabbed her purse and followed her stepdaughter downstairs. She could only hope that the serious conversation she had in mind wouldn’t spoil Brianna’s happy mood.

CHAPTER 11

On the downstairs balcony, Brianna settled in a lounge chair with her phone and made a call to Liam. It was after eleven. The house was dark and quiet, Burke asleep in his downstairs room and Allison alone upstairs in the king-size bed. Brianna could tell things were strained between her father and stepmother. Not so long ago, she had hoped the marriage wouldn’t last. Now that she was getting to know Allison, she found herself wishing it would—and fearing that it might not.

“Hullo.” Liam had picked up on the third ring.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” Brianna purred into the phone.

“Hi. You sound mighty cheerful for this late hour.”

“I am. I got a job today—just part-time, but it’s with a local newspaper. I’ll be a real reporter!”

“Hey, that’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“You don’t sound too happy.”

“Sorry. I’ve been trying hard not to miss you, but it’s like there’s this big hole in my life. I’m counting the days till you can come back here.”

“So am I. But I’m scared, Liam. My six-month probation won’t be up in time for next semester. I’ll have to reapply to go back to Northwestern in the summer or fall. What if they don’t accept me? I mean, I was a decent student, but not one of the superstars, and now I’ve got this blotch on my record. Why should they take me back when they could fill my place with somebody better? And with my dad having money troubles . . .” Brianna’s voice trailed off. She’d tried not to worry about her father’s business, but today’s lunch with Allison had brought the issue front and center.

“Can you reapply now? At least you’ll know whether it’s even an option.”

“That’s a good idea. The sooner I find out, the better.”

“What if you don’t get back in? Do you have a plan B?”