When Heart Collides

life's unfairness

CHAPTER 2

It was unfair.

It was not fair to die so young, and it was not fair to have to go through the pain Miracle had just before she surrendered, giving up the valiant struggle for good.

Her chest ached as the sobs continued to escape.

Kelly understood that crying like this was selfish of her. After all, she was not really alone. She had her family--large, sprawling, friendly, and noisy--who were there for her. She was the youngest of six children, with four sisters and a brother whom she adored and got along well with now that they were all adults.

The same could be said for her parents, though her mother's overly loud laments about dying before seeing one viable grandchild did get on her nerves at times. Nevertheless, she was one of the fortunate ones. She had people in her life who she could turn to.

So, why was she feeling so alone and lonely? Was her grief interfering with her ability to perceive reality? She was confident that if she called one of them, they would arrive as soon as possible.

As Frank would.

She and Frank Ford grew up together. He had been her friend for years. Longer than Miracle had been. Even so, having him, or any of them, here right now, at this moment, would not alleviate the terrible feeling of overwhelming sorrow and loss.

She supposed she felt this way because she was mourning not only the loss of a dear, wonderful friend, but also the loss of Miracle's life, and, ultimately, the loss of her own childhood. Death had ushered in an overwhelming darkness that had never been there before.

Because Death had taken away her own innocence.

Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

And Kelly knew without being told that for the foreseeable future, she would reach for the phone, starting calls she would never finish, driven by a desire to share things with someone she could not share anything with anymore.

God, she was going to miss Miracle. Miss sharing secrets, laughing, and talking until the early hours of the morning.

More tears flowed. She was exhausted, but they still came.

Kelly lost track of the time.

She had no idea how long she had been sitting on that bench, crying like that. She only knew that she was almost completely dehydrated. Just like a wrung-out sponge.

She should get up and go home before everyone starts wondering what happened to her. She had a wedding to plan for tomorrow. Or perhaps it was a birthday celebration. She couldn't remember. But there was work to be done, and menus to be organized.

And God knew she did not want to worry her parents.

She had told them she was only going to leave for an hour or so. Since she worked at the family restaurant and still lived at home, or at least, in the guesthouse on the estate, her parents kept closer track of her than they might have had she been out somewhere on her own.

It's her fault.

Kelly chastised herself, convinced that everything was her fault.

If she had insisted that Miracle see a doctor when her friend became ill and complained of bouts of nausea and pain, Miracle might still be alive today rather than…

Kelly let out a shaky breath.

What exactly was the point? Going over the terrain again would not make a difference. It wouldn't bring Miracle back. Miracle was gone and life had suddenly taken on a more temporary, fragile bearing. There was no longer "forever" on the horizon. Infinity had become finite.

Kelly looked up abruptly, feeling as if she was being watched. When she opened her eyes, she was more than slightly prepared to see Frank staring back at her. It would not be surprising for him to come looking for her if he suspected she was not where she was supposed to be. He'd appointed himself her keeper and while she really did value his friendship, there was a part of her that was beginning to feel smothered by his continuous closeness.

But when she looked up, it was not Frank's eyes that met hers. Nor were they the eyes of a passing stranger whose attention had been briefly drawn to the sight of a woman sobbing her heart out.

The eyes she was looking up into were green.

Despite the distance between them, they are intensely green. Kelly was perplexed by the green eyes. The expression on the man's face, however, was not a mystery. It was frowning. In disapproval for her semi-public display of grief?

Or was it merely a judgment of her?

Luke was wearing something more intense than his typical frown. Kelly could not remember the brooding rancher with the aura of raw sexuality ever smiling. It was difficult even to recall a memory of the man with a neutral expression on his face.

Luke seemed to be irritated all the time. He appeared angry most of the time, rather than just annoyed. Not that she could truly blame him. He was furious with his twin for doing what he had done and bringing dishonor to the family name.

Or, at least, that was what she thought his scowl and anger were about.

Kelly, embarrassed by the attention, quickly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She did not have any tissues or a handkerchief with her, despite knowing she should have had the foresight to bring one or the other given the situation she was in.

Perhaps she had not because she secretly hoped that if she did not bring a handkerchief or tissues, there would not be much to cry about.

For a moment, she was almost certain Luke would turn and walk away, his expression of what was now resembling abject disgust still on his face.

But, instead of walking away, he started walking toward her.

Her stomach fluttered slightly. Kelly straightened her shoulders and sat up a little more firmly. For some unknown reason, she could feel her mouth drying.

Probably because you are completely dehydrated. How much water do you think you still have in you?

She would have gotten to her feet and started walking away if she could have, but her legs felt strangely weak and disjointed, as if they did not belong to her. Kelly was afraid that if she tried to stand up, her knees would give way and she would fall back onto the bench. Then Luke would really look contemptuously at her, and she didn't think she was up to that.

In the next breath, she silently reminded herself that it did not matter what Luke Alexander thought of her. She just did not want to appear like a complete i***t. Her nose was probably already red, and her eyes must be extremely puffy by now.

Crossing to her, still not saying anything to acknowledge her current state or even a greeting, Luke abruptly shoved his hand into his pocket, extracted something, and held it out to her.

Kelly blinked. Luke held out a surprisingly neatly folded white handkerchief.

When she made no move to take it from him, he all but growled, "Here, you appear to need this a lot more than I do."