Forever After

by Catherine Anderson

  “Yes,” she admitted. “In defense of you. He believes everything he said to me. That I’m just using you. He’s furious, Heath. And fighting for you with everything he’s got. He’s a mess as a parent. I won’t say he isn’t. But look past it. It’s not that he doesn’t love you. He’s just—inept.”

  “There’s a good word, inept. And he calls me a screwup.”

  “He stayed here because of you, Heath!” she called after him. “You have to know that. What else is here for him? An empty house? Long plane trips? He stayed to be near you!”

  Not looking back, he kept walking. She sat down on the porch. He covered several feet, realized she wasn’t behind him, and turned. When he saw her, his face flushed to an angry red, and he stomped back toward her.

  “What in the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m having a sit-down strike,” she replied calmly.

  Huffing air into his cheeks, he glanced over at Sammy and Goliath, who stood on the gravel drive. “You’re taking my father’s side against me?”

  “No, of course not. I’m taking your side. I’ll always take your side. It’s just that I know you love him, and you’ve been so hurt. Please, go back in. Give him just one more chance. Don’t carry this around inside you for the rest of your life. Please?”

  “I don’t like the jerk.”

  “He doesn’t like you, either. I don’t think you even know each other. But you love each other. And you’re both dying inside.”

  He set his jaw. “I appreciate your concern, all right? If he were normal, I might even agree he deserves another attempt. But he isn’t, and I don’t. So get your little butt up from there. We’re leaving.”

  “You’ve done so much for me, Heath. Let me do this one thing for you.”

  He snapped his fingers and pointed at his feet. “We’re leaving!”

  Last night, Meredith had believed she’d seen him angry. Now she realized he had been only perturbed by comparison.

  “Don’t push me, Meredith!”

  She gazed up at him—approximately six feet five inches of outraged male, every muscle tensed. He was snapping his fingers and ordering her around, looking fully capable of slapping her silly if she didn’t obey him. Yet she didn’t feel the least bit intimidated. It was the most glorious feeling in the world.

  “Heath,” she said softly. “Would you look at yourself? You’re acting like Dan.”

  His face went redder. “Jesus! Don’t compare me to Dan. I don’t goddamn appreciate it!”

  “Then, please, don’t snap your fingers at me. It makes you look silly.”

  “Silly?” He moved his lips but no sound came out. Finally, he managed to sputter, “You’ll think silly! And I’ll snap my fingers if I want to! I won’t spend the rest of my life being compared to good old Dan.”

  “I’m not comparing you to Dan. For Dan, I would get up!”

  That gave him pause. “If that’s not a hell of a note, I don’t know what is! You’d hop to for him, but not for me?”

  “I was afraid of Dan.”

  He leveled a finger at her. “Meredith Lynn, get your ass up off that goddamned porch!”

  “Mommy? Are you and Heef fighting?”

  Meredith glanced at her daughter, who stood a few feet away with her hand curled over Goliath’s collar. “No, sweetkins. We’re having a discussion.”

  “This is not a discussion,” Heath corrected. “It’s a fight, and your mother is about to find out what will happen if she pushes me too far.”

  “Is Mommy winning?”

  Again Heath seemed incapable of speech for a moment. He tugged on his earlobe, then swiped a hand under his nose. “No, she is not winning. She seems to think she is, but she’s about to learn she’s not.” He gave Meredith a measuring glance. “No contest!”

  Meredith sighed. “You’re going to feel so awful about this once you calm down.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re beside yourself right now, and you can’t see how badly you’re behaving.”

  “Badly? Excuse me, but from my side of the fence, I’d say—”

  “But you will later,” she rushed on, cutting him off. “Do you know what’s happening here, Heath? You’re doing just what you did last night when I hurt your feelings, only this time it’s your dad. Blowing up doesn’t make the hurt go away. It just covers it up for a while.”

  He planted his hands on his hips, walked in a tight circle, and huffed like a surfacing whale. She’d seen him do that last night as well and realized it must be his way of taking timeout.

  When he finally stopped pacing, he crossed his arms, his stance more relaxed. After regarding her for a moment, he sighed, a twinkle replacing the glint of anger in his eyes. He didn’t smile, but Meredith knew he was struggling not to. “You do realize I could jerk you up from there, throw you over my shoulder, and paddle that cute little fanny of yours all the way back to the truck.”

  “That sounds like it might be fun.” She dimpled a cheek at him. “But you have to wait until after you go back in. Then, no matter how it turns out, I promise to be putty in your hands.”

  “You should be putty now. I wear the pants in this family. Don’t forget that.”

  “Mommy gots pants on, too!”

  Heath narrowed an eye at the child, who stood knee-high to him. “Mine are bigger.”

  Sammy regarded the long legs of his jeans. “Yup. Lots bigger.”

  Heath looked at Meredith. “You see? Don’t mess with the bull. You might get him by the horn.” He strode slowly toward her, then drew up and hunkered in front of her. Catching her chin in his hand, he gazed into her eyes. “He’ll just get a few more licks in. You do realize that. I’ll do it. For you. But it isn’t going to work.”

  She caught his wrist and kissed his palm. “The two of you have hashed out every old hurt, avoiding the elementary truth, as if to admit it would be losing face. Tell him, Heath. Before you leave, please, won’t you tell him? A big, strong man like you. You can handle saying three little words. Let them fall where they may, but know you’ve said them. If he isn’t man enough to do the same, then that’s his problem.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her lips. “You owe me for this one.”

  Shortly after Heath reentered the house, Meredith had cause to wonder if he would ever forgive her for insisting he speak with his dad again. The front windows seemed to vibrate, they were yelling so loudly, every word of their argument carrying to her on the porch. To keep Sammy from listening, Meredith directed the child to go play on the lawn with Goliath. Never had Meredith heard such a vicious exchange.

  Heath aired old grievances against Ian for becoming an absentee father after Heath’s mother died. Ian confessed that after his wife’s death, burying himself in his work had been all that had kept him from falling apart. Heath pointed out that in Ian’s opinion, Heath had never done anything right, that he’d been constantly criticized by his father and never once praised for any of his accomplishments. Ian fired back with lethal rounds of more criticism, claiming that Heath had always scorned everything Ian was and all that he had stood for, that Heath had patterned himself after Skeeter, the ranch foreman, instead of after his own dad. Heath struck back by saying that the reason he’d hero worshiped Skeeter was because the wiry old cowboy had been more of a father to Heath than Ian ever had.

  On and on it went, until Meredith wished she had left well enough alone. Toward the end of it, Heath informed his dad that he had returned to the house to tell him only one thing, then angrily bellowed, “I love you! God knows why, but I do!” After that, she heard nothing more.

  For a few minutes, Meredith expected Heath to come storming out of the house. When he didn’t, she decided the two men must still be arguing, but at a lower pitch. When a quarter of an hour passed, she sighed with relief and gave herself a congratulatory pat on the back. For the first time in nineteen years, father and son were finally talking instead of yelling.

  She didn’t kid herself. Hea
th and Ian weren’t going to heal all the old wounds with one conversation, nor would this talk bridge all the chasms that yawned between them. And she sincerely doubted either of them would ever put the heartache of Laney’s tragic death completely behind them.

  But this was a start. Where there was communication, there existed hope for some kind of relationship between them, even if it wasn’t a perfect one.

  Three hours later, Ian rejoined Meredith and Heath in his study. He tossed a notepad down on his desk. “I placed a few phone calls, talked with people in the know. Glen Calendri and some of his associates are already under investigation.”

  “They are?” Meredith pressed a hand to her throat. “That’s good news, right?”

  Ian smiled. Since his second talk with Heath, he had not only apologized to Meredith and Sammy for his earlier behavior, but had been a model of cordiality and good manners. He’d also refrained from cursing.

  “Well, it means Calendri is operating under a cloud of suspicion. So far, they can’t get anything to hang him with, so it’s unofficial and doesn’t help you out much. However, if the information you gave me checks out satisfactorily, there’s every possibility that you can send your ex-father-in-law and a few of his friends to the pen for a very long time. I’ve also been assured that in exchange for such testimony, the government would be willing to enroll you and the child into the Witness Protection Program.

  “With a phone call, I can set the wheels in motion. From this point forward, things should move along nicely. Whether I make that call is entirely up to you, Meredith. If you give me the go-ahead, you’ll have to return here to the ranch in three days to give an official and detailed statement to the proper authorities. They will, of course, check out the information between now and then. Names, times, dates, the crimes that you allege were committed. If they meet you here, the interview will be a mere formality.”

  “What then?”

  “You’ll be called to testify before a grand jury. If all goes well, that first go-around will result in indictments. If so, Glen and his associates will be arrested and held for trial, with you as the primary witness.” He sighed and looked at her sadly. “Now, for the downside. Once you give your statement in three days, the ensuing investigation will take time, anywhere from several days to possibly months. Meanwhile, you may be in grave danger. That will necessitate your being taken into protective custody immediately. You and Sammy will reside in what they call a ‘safe house’ until you’ve finished testifying, at which time you’ll both enter the witness program. In short, after this initial three days, you’ll live in seclusion, with no contact with anyone from that point forward until the trials are over. The entire process, from beginning to end, may take months, or possibly even years.”

  Meredith listened to this news with numb acceptance, keeping her gaze carefully averted from Heath’s. Three days. After that, she might never see him again. As a protected witness, she would assume a new identity. God knew where she and Sammy might end up after the trials, the only certainty being that Heath wouldn’t be there. Tears threatened. She blinked them away. This was the answer to her prayers. A way out, an opportunity for her child to have a normal life.

  Magic and miracles and fairy tale endings. Only last night, she’d dared to believe that maybe this time she would come out a winner. Now all hope for a future with Heath was being quashed. It hurt. She couldn’t even think of telling him good-bye. But for Sammy’s sake, she would have to.

  “It’s tough, I know,” Ian said solemnly. “On a bright note, if your testimony checks out, Heath’s decision to take you into protective custody, and his actions later to protect you, will be justified. If he wishes, I’m sure he can have his job back.”

  Meredith nodded. “That is a bright note.” She smiled at Heath. “Maybe your whole life won’t be tanked, after all.”

  Heath regarded her silently, his mouth pressed into a grim line. Then he said, “Make the call, Dad. We don’t have any choice.”

  Three days. That was all they had, only three very short days, and both Meredith and Heath longed to have a lifetime. Given Oregon’s three-day waiting period, they discussed making a quick trip to Reno so they might be legally married, which would make Heath’s enrollment with her in the Witness Protection Program automatic. But in the end, Heath scotched the idea because the long drive to Nevada would put Meredith’s and Sammy’s lives at risk. Glen Calendri’s men were still out there somewhere, and their bullets were still just as deadly. They had to stay on the mountaintop, where there was at least some margin of safety.

  “I’ll find another way, Merry,” he told her shortly after making love to her in the moonlight. “Somehow, some way, I’ll be waiting for you when you’ve finished testifying. We’ll have a whole new life, and we’ll be together until we die. I swear it.”

  Meredith knew Heath meant that, from the bottom of his heart. But she also knew he was only one man and that some things were beyond his control. This was probably going to be it for them, just three short days to last them a lifetime, and by unspoken agreement, they were determined to live each second as if it were their last.

  It hurt. In all her life, Meredith had never felt such pain. In so short a while, this man had become her world. So many times, she caught herself watching him through a blur of tears as he interacted with Sammy. Merry, will I ever make it? he’d asked her. In Meredith’s opinion, he had already surpassed excellence and was the most fantastic father in the world. She committed the moments to memory, promising herself she’d recall every little thing so she might share it with Sammy in stories after he could no longer be with them. When Sammy remembered her father, Meredith wanted her to think of Heath Masters. He was love and honor and strength and courage, all rolled into a wonderful package, the perfect gift to her child. And she wanted Sammy to have that gift forever.

  The incident that particularly touched Meredith and stuck in her mind was when she found Heath and Sammy in the bathroom. Heath was stooped over the vanity, his elbows braced on the edges of the sink. He was gagging. Sammy sat cross-legged beside him on the counter, waiting with the bar of soap until he recovered enough to open his mouth again.

  “I’m sorry, Heef. I told you, soap makes you urp.”

  Heath shuddered, filled his mouth with water, and made a shrill, sputtering sound. “It’s not your fault, sweetcakes,” he managed to say. “Nobody controls my mouth but me.” He lifted his head, stuck out his tongue, and made inarticulate noises. “Wah id ahin.”

  Making a horrible face, Sammy rubbed the bar of soap back and forth over his tongue. With one stroke, she went farther back than she intended. Heath’s eyes bugged, and he jackknifed forward, shoving his head into the sink to wretch. When he drew breath, he croaked, “Jesus, Sammy! Not down my throat!”

  “I’m sorry!” she cried. Then she made a gasping sound. “Uh-oh, Heef. You done it again!”

  “What?” He gagged and sputtered. Sammy leaned over to whisper the word he’d said in his ear. He groaned, gagged, raked his teeth over his tongue, spat, and then said, “Oh, Christ…I’m not—going to survive this.”

  Two scrubs later, he said, “Sammy, are you sure you counted ten bad words?”

  At this point, Sammy was starting to gag just watching him. “I think so,” she said faintly. “Maybe I made a ’stake, though. We can stop now, Heef. I know you’re sorry.”

  Meredith figured Heath should be grateful the child only had ten fingers. Past that, Sammy hadn’t yet learned to count. He hauled in a bracing breath, squared his shoulders, and stared into the sink for a moment. “No,” he finally said. “If I cussed twelve times, it’s not right to skip washes. What will that teach me?”

  “Ten times,” Sammy corrected.

  “And then the two just now,” he reminded her.

  Sammy sighed. “I’m all the way teached.” She shook her head. “I ain’t never gonna cuss again. I don’t like to urp.”

  Seconds later, she got sick watching Heath and did j
ust that. He swore—Meredith was becoming convinced he would never break himself of the habit—and held Sammy’s head, wiping her little face with a wet cloth. When Sammy recovered, she asked in a squeaky little voice, “Heef? Can’t you just sit in the corner?” Heath gratefully agreed.

  Over the next few days, he spent quite a bit of their remaining time together with his nose pressed to the wall, and every second made Meredith love him just a little more. On one occasion while he was outside playing with Sammy and Goliath, she heard him yell, “Oh, God!” He quickly followed it up with, “Love me!” Then, in a voice he undoubtedly pitched low so Meredith wouldn’t hear him, he told Sammy if was all right to say “God” if he was praying, and asking God to love him was definitely praying. Meredith figured the request was entirely unnecessary. If God didn’t already love Heath Masters, then He hadn’t been keeping tabs on the folks in Oregon.

  Making love all night…Taking snoozes along the creek bank in the warm sunshine while Sammy and Goliath played…Picnics under the fir trees…Feeding the squirrels…And making love again. In the next three days, they made a thousand memories, reality intruding only when Meredith noticed Heath’s shotgun and rifle, which he carried everywhere. Being with him. The four of them, a family. Lying in his arms at night. It was all Meredith’s sweetest dreams come true.

  Sadly, like all wonderful dreams, it ended far too soon.

  On their last night together, Heath took her for a walk in the moonlight after Sammy fell asleep. They couldn’t wander far from the house, so they circled it, keeping to the same path through the trees. In a small, moonlit clearing Heath drew to a stop and dropped to one knee in front of her to ask her to marry him. Meredith tearfully said yes, clinging to the hope that his proposal might come to fruition and that one day, she would be joined with him forever in the eyes of God and the law.