Читать книгу Mended Hearts - Ruth Herne Logan - Страница 8

Jeff Brennan stood slowly, facing his illegitimate half brother, their gazes locked, a silent war of wills waging in their squared-off stature. Nice to see that twenty years of separation had changed absolutely nothing. “What do you want, Matt? What are you doing here?”

Matt Cavanaugh didn’t match Jeff’s caustic tone, but then he’d always had a way of wriggling out of things right up until he nearly cost Katie Bascomb her life. He did cost her a leg, but guys like Matt didn’t worry about things like consequences. Ever.

Matt leveled a firm look at Jeff, not cringing. Not asking forgiveness. Not apologizing for all he’d put the family through two decades back. Which meant he might need to be punched. And with the current demands and conditions of Jeff’s job as the chief design engineer for Walker Electronics, his business partner Trent Michaels called away for life-threatening family illness and the in-house rush to nail down a mobile surveillance system designed to keep an eye on threatened American borders, Jeff was ready to duke it out with just about anyone.

Throw in the matching funds library project his grandmother and CEO threw at him an hour ago, and Matt had no idea how close he was to risking his life.

Jeff swallowed a growl, glanced down, then up. The look in Matt’s eyes said he might just be getting it, but on an already bad day, the last thing Jeff wanted or needed was the long-awaited showdown with his lawbreaking half brother. “I said, what do you want?”

Matt raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m in town to scout out some possible work. I’m a housing contractor now, and I didn’t want to blindside you or anyone else in the family by running into you in the street.”

“You’ve grown a conscience?” Jeff’s hands tightened. His skin prickled. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose in quiet protest. “Since when?”

Matt didn’t answer the question. “I’ve come to make amends, Jeff.”

“Too little, too late.”

A tiny muscle in Matt’s jaw tightened. “You could be right. I hope you’re wrong. But I wanted to come here and see you face-to-face. Pave the way.”

“So you’re in town looking for work.” Jeff mused over the words, wishing Matt wasn’t so calm while he felt ready to jump the desk and settle old wrongs. “Or you’re here because Walker Electronics is doing better and you want a piece of the pie.”

Matt swiped Jeff’s office a quick glance. “Right. I just now decided to fulfill a lifelong yearning to understand microchips, nanoseconds and satellite-fed communications. Sorry, but that part of our father didn’t bleed through to me.”

“No.” Jeff shut his desk drawer with more force than necessary. “You got the drinking, gambling, womanizing and lawbreaking genes. How’s that working for you, Matt?”

Matt stepped back. “I didn’t come to fight, Jeff. I just wanted you aware. And if you’ll point me toward Helen’s office, I’ll let her know, as well.”

What Jeff wanted was to show Matt the exit in no uncertain terms, but that would label him an even bigger jerk. He hiked a thumb left. “Out the door. Down the hall. I know she’s there because we just finished a meeting about a matching fund drive for the Jamison library.”

“Your grandfather’s wishes.”

“Yes.”

Matt nodded and backed toward the door. “I’m not looking to get in your way down here.”

“You already did.”

Matt acknowledged that with a shrug and a straight-on look. “Those are your issues, then.”

He turned, leaving Jeff with nothing but riled-up memories, twenty years of absence not enough to warrant Matt’s presence as a welcome addition.

His grandmother would disagree. Jeff knew that. She’d always seen Matt as a broken soul, a lost kid, a troubled heart.

Whereas Jeff saw a conscienceless user, just like their father.

Long ago, Peter had asked the Lord about forgiving his brother, wondering if seven times was enough. And Jesus said no. Not nearly enough. Which only meant Jeff had some serious work to do if forgiving Matt was added to his already overflowing plate.