The Memory of You

by Catherine West

  “I suppose not.” Natalie watched him pull a few more weeds around the vines. “Rather like raising a family, right? You can’t bring children into the world and then let them fend for themselves.”

  “No. You can’t.” He rose, brushed his hands over his jeans. “But it happens all the time.”

  “My mother had a string of nannies for us.” Natalie wasn’t sure where that thought came from. “I don’t remember her ever reading to me or taking us to the park. When she wasn’t traveling with my father, she was out at some meeting or other. We were paraded in front of their friends when it was convenient.”

  Tanner stepped a little closer. “My father left when I was ten.” The pain in his voice was still raw.

  Natalie frowned. Had they ever talked about it? “Why?”

  “I suppose for the obvious reasons. My folks were fighting all the time.” He started walking again, slower this time. “And my sister . . . had problems. I remember she had these intense mood swings. One day she was up, the next she wouldn’t leave her room. After her first suicide attempt, I remember my parents arguing. She’d been diagnosed as bipolar. I didn’t want to hear it, so I left the house. A couple months later, my dad was gone. And he took my sister with him.”

  “Tanner.” Tears welled in her eyes. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  “I got over it.” His stalwart expression said he hadn’t. Not by a long shot. “My mom and I came back to Sonoma. My grandparents were still here. She started working for Hal that year, and we moved to Maoilios.”

  “Did your father visit or anything? Did you see your sister at all?”

  “My dad tried to keep in touch, but I was pretty angry, I didn’t make it easy. He remarried. Marnie visited a few times. When she got older, the visits stopped. My father tried to get me to visit them in Seattle. I never would because—”

  “You were scared he wouldn’t let you come back.”

  He stopped walking, stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flashing in the moonlight. “I never really looked at it that way, but maybe you’re right.”

  “And you’ve never forgiven him for leaving.”

  He shrugged and glanced across the fields of vines, as though ghosts from the past would emerge any minute. “He basically abandoned me. That’s not forgivable.”

  They approached the swing set on the lawn below the house. Natalie stopped and stared up at the big house, seeing ghosts of her own. A few windows glowed with soft light. “Your sister came back eventually though?”

  “Yeah. Around the time your grandmother passed. I was on vacation. Came home and there they were, like they’d always been there.” He shuffled his feet, hands still in his pockets. “Well, here you are.” He tipped his head toward the house, unsmiling.

  They were done talking.

  Sorrow stretched between them, but she didn’t know how to step around it. “Thanks for walking me.”

  Silence hovered, punctuated by Gwin’s panting and the occasional cry of a night owl. Natalie hesitated, strange emotion sticking in her throat. “I do want us to be friends, Tanner. The truth is, Saturday night . . . you scared me,” she whispered.

  “I what?” His brows knit together.

  She smiled and let her shoulders rise and fall. “The things you said. You were right. I don’t let my guard down very often. Don’t let anybody get close to me. But you . . . I don’t know, for some reason I feel like I can talk to you. I always did.”

  “And this is a bad thing?” He stepped a little closer, almost smiling.

  Natalie laughed. “Besides Laura, I don’t confide in anyone. Don’t become invested in relationships. To be honest, when I found out Peter was cheating on me, I was relieved. I was glad I wouldn’t have to marry him, wouldn’t have to keep pretending.”

  “Pretending?”

  She waved a hand. “I didn’t really love him. Not the way I should have. I tried to because I thought it could work, thought I could be the person everyone expects me to be. But here, this place . . .” Natalie walked the perimeter of the play set and drank in the solitude of the surrounding fields. “I don’t have to pretend when I’m here. You made me remember that. And then you kissed me.”

  “Which was a mistake, as you’ve already pointed out.” Tension edged his words and made her wonder whether she should go on.

  Natalie stared at her feet and willed the tears back. “I wasn’t expecting it. And I wasn’t expecting to feel . . . the way I did. That scared me.”

  Tanner reached for her hands. “Why?”

  “Because the things you said gave me hope.” Slow tears warmed her cheeks. “For the first time in years, I felt like maybe I could get through this. Like I wanted to. Like maybe my life is worth living after all.”

  “I did all that, huh?” The warmth of his smile burrowed deep and watered the seeds he’d already planted. His hands moved up to rest on her shoulders. Hooded eyes bored into her and unlocked her secrets. “I’m sorry for all you’ve gone through, Natalie. If being here is helping, then I’m glad. But if it isn’t, if it’s too hard, then you should go. Forget about the winery. I’ll figure things out on my own.”

  “No.” She shook her head, unexpected joy filling her. “The thing is, Tanner, I want to stay. I want to save Maoilios. I think it’s something I need to do. For me.”

  He held her gaze for a while without speaking. “Your father won’t like it.”

  “I know.” Stubbornness she didn’t realize she owned stepped out of the shadows.

  Tanner still looked skeptical. “Are you sure you can handle this, Mouse?”

  “No.” She wasn’t. Not really. “But as long as I have my grandfather and Uncle Jeff supporting me, I think I can.”

  His smile came and went. “Do I get to be on the team?”

  “Only if you want to be.” He didn’t need to know about the conversation with her father that morning.

  “I love a good fight.” His boyish grin made her laugh.

  “Yes, apparently you do. But do try to keep your fists in check if he happens to show up, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best.” Tanner stepped away from her, whistled for Gwin, and tossed the flashlight back and forth. “So. Still want to see those wineries?”

  A flutter of excitement started and she smiled. “Still want to drive my Jag?”

  “You know it.”

  “Well, I’m free next week. Let me know what works for you.” This was not a date, Natalie reminded herself. This was business.

  “I think I can clear Monday morning.” Tanner’s phone glowed in the darkness as he studied it. “Yeah, that would work.”

  “Good. It’s a date.” Natalie almost slapped her forehead. “I mean, it’s not a date. It’s . . . oh, you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s a date that’s not a date. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “We could make it a date.” His teasing tone brought heat to her cheeks.

  Oh boy. Natalie’s chest constricted as she forced herself to shake her head. “Not a good idea.”

  “Worth a shot though. I can see you blushing even in the dark.” His wink sizzled through her and coaxed a smile.

  “Good-night, Tanner.”

  “Good-night, Mouse.” Tanner tapped two fingers to his forehead in salute. “Sweet dreams.”

  Twenty-Four

  NERVES SET UP A TRAMPOLINE IN NATALIE’S STOMACH AND began to bounce as she walked down the steps on Monday morning to where Tanner waited, leaning against his truck, two colorful travel mugs in hand, dressed in jeans, a rough-hewn sweater, and sneakers, looking like a movie star.

  “Please tell me that’s coffee,” she mumbled, reaching for the mug he held toward her. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Coffee. Strong.” His chuckle wrapped around her like a hug in the crisp morning air. “I’ve been up since five.”

  “Aren’t you special.” Natalie grinned and waved a CD his way. “I brought the tunes.”

&n
bsp; “You what?” Tanner opened the passenger door as she handed over the keys to her vehicle.

  Natalie laughed, got in, and buckled up. Tanner pulled off the thick blue sweater he wore over a white polo shirt, chucked it onto the backseat, and slid into the Jag. A look of awe swept over his face as he wound his hands around the gleaming wood and leather steering wheel.

  “Sweet.” He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “It’s just a car, Tanner.”

  “Oh no, no, no. This is not ‘just a car.’” His gleeful chuckle made her smile. She had to admit, the beige leather interior was impressive.

  Once he started the engine, she slipped in the disc. As they pulled out of the driveway, The Spice Girls blasted from the speakers.

  “Nooo . . .” Tanner’s groan competed with girly shouts of “Tell me what you want . . .” Seriously? “Spice Girls? How old are you?”

  “They were my favorite group in middle school.” Natalie laughed and bounced in her seat. “You can drive, but I get to pick the music. The best of the ’90s. All. Day. Long.”

  “Dang, girl. Your taste in music sucks. We should have taken my truck.” The sides of his mouth twitched as he shot a glance her way. “Are you torturing me for any particular reason today or just for fun?”

  “Just for fun.” Natalie pushed her seat back a bit and sipped from her mug. The coffee warmed her, but the smile he sent her lit her soul.

  It was going to be a good day.

  After seeing several wineries and enjoying a leisurely lunch at one of them, it was time to head back. Natalie was itching to get onto the computer and put down some new ideas. She wrote furiously while Tanner drove them toward home.

  “Oh.” When she finally glanced up, she realized they weren’t anywhere near the road to Maoilios. “Where are we going now?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Okay.” Natalie breathed deep and tried to enjoy the scenery while Tanner drove the winding roads, not saying much as she talked. They drove for almost an hour, the car taking them higher until eventually he pulled into a lay-by overlooking Lake Sonoma.

  “Best view in town,” he told her. “Come on.”

  They got out and Natalie found a picnic bench to sit on and stared at the red ball of fire in the sky with Tanner beside her. The setting sun stretched feather-like fingers of orange and pink toward the tops of the Douglas firs below. “It’s beautiful, Tanner.”

  “One of my favorite spots.”

  “I can see why.” Natalie smiled and turned to see Tanner watching her. “What are you looking at?”

  “You.” His finger brushed the side of her cheek, his touch sending a shiver through her. He was close enough to kiss her. If he wanted to. If she’d let him. He inched closer and Natalie’s heart picked up speed. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he said quietly.

  “Okay. Do I need to take notes?” She shifted a little, trying to put a bit of space between them. His chuckle made her smile, but as he brought his hands around her face and threaded his fingers through her hair, her smile faded.

  “I doubt it.” He leaned even closer so their noses touched, his breath warm, inviting her mind to places it had no business going. “I think we should revisit the no-kissing rule.”

  “You do?” She was lost in his dancing eyes. Totally, completely, delightfully lost.

  “I do.”

  “Tanner, I’m not sure. I—”

  A low growl stuck in his throat as his lips tentatively touched hers. “You overanalyze, Mouse.”

  “One of us has to.”

  “Sometimes thinking is overrated.” Tanner pressed his lips to hers, gently at first, until she relaxed against him and began to respond. Before she could process what was happening, Natalie melted into his embrace, gave in, and realized he was right.

  Thinking was definitely overrated.

  Tanner’s kisses set her insides on fire. She ran her fingers through his hair, across his muscular back and down the arms that held her so carefully. His exploration of her mouth ignited feelings all too willing and able to push her toward dangerous territory.

  “Tanner.” Natalie broke away and caught her breath. “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah.” He let out his breath and pressed his forehead against hers.

  “I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”

  He pulled back a bit and his playful smile said he couldn’t care less. “Live a little, Natalie. Admit you enjoyed it. I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”

  She rolled her eyes and leaned into his embrace. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Dictionary.”

  “Whatever.” Natalie gave a happy sigh and ran a finger over the veins of his tanned hand.

  Tanner tipped her chin upward. “And just so you know, that kiss was not a mistake. The first one wasn’t either.”

  She studied his serious expression. “Are you sure?”

  He didn’t answer her with words, just wrapped her in his arms again and kissed her until nothing else mattered. Natalie finally fought against foolishness and pushed her hands against his chest. “All right, I believe you.”

  He gave a low laugh. “Please don’t fire me. I promise not to let this get in the way of doing my job.” Tanner threaded his fingers through hers and she suspected he was only half joking.

  Natalie grinned and shook her head. “I won’t fire you. But I’ll probably have to fire Candy.”

  “Candy? Why is that?”

  “Because I think she has her sights set on upper management.”

  “Oh, does she now?” Tanner laughed. “I don’t think she’s at all suitable for the position. That job requires somebody uber-organized to the point of annoying, who has very odd taste in music, and knows exactly how to press my buttons.”

  Natalie giggled. “I don’t do that on purpose. Not all the time.” She placed a hand against his cheek and watched the golden flecks in his eyes. “Thank you for bringing me here. For . . .” Why was it so hard to voice her feelings? “For believing in me. You do, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “I do. And I think we’re going to make a great team.” The light in his eyes faded as the sun dipped lower. “What I’m going through, losing Marnie, maybe losing the kids . . . having you here is making life a little easier.”

  “That’s something I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say.” They shared a laugh, then sat in silence until finally Natalie had to ask. “Can you tell me what happened, Tanner? With your sister? Your mom told me she’s in a coma, in a long-term care facility, but I don’t know the story.”

  Tanner rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay.” He sighed and stared at her through tired eyes. “It was early August. We had a few friends over for a barbecue. Marnie skipped out halfway through. The kids were frantic. We didn’t know where she’d gone. She didn’t answer her cell. I made up some excuse about her going to see a sick friend.” He pulled his arms up and locked his hands behind his neck.

  “I got real good at that the past few years. Telling them things that weren’t true.” He trained a steady gaze on her. “Along with the bipolar, Marnie had other issues. Drugs, alcohol. She’d go off her meds without warning. She called me later, at around two a.m. Wasted. Wanted me to come get her.” He closed his eyes and leaned forward. “I was angry, and you can probably imagine how the conversation went. I told her to get a cab. The next call I got was about an hour later. From the cops.”

  Natalie’s heart thudded against her chest. “She drove.”

  He lowered his head. “She drove. Rammed through a guardrail on Highway 1. She was unresponsive at the scene, but still had a pulse. The damage to her spinal cord was too severe. She never regained consciousness. After a week we were told if we wanted to keep her on a ventilator, she’d have to be moved to a facility that could care for her. I guess we all hoped she’d pull through somehow, beat the odds. The latest batch of tests they ran last week showed still no brain activity.”

  “Oh, Tanner.” She reached for his hand.<
br />
  “I don’t drink now because of Marnie. I just figured it was better for the kids. They’ve seen enough. Although some days I have to admit I’m tempted, but I don’t ever want to be out of control around them like she often was.” He draped an arm around her shoulder.

  “You’re a good man, Tanner Collins.” Natalie leaned against him, wishing for the right words. “What comes next?”

  “We let her go. My mother wants to do it now, before the holidays. Says it’ll be easier on everyone. She’s already called my father and Rance, the kids’ father.” He jumped down and walked the area, kicking small stones around. “I don’t know how to do this.” His ashen expression, the haunted eyes, everything about him said he held himself responsible.

  She could tell him any number of possible scenarios he’d probably heard before. Tell him he could have picked Marnie up and still gotten into an accident. Tell him Marnie could have been run over crossing the street.

  But she couldn’t tell him her own story.

  Couldn’t tell him that sometimes things just happen, mistakes are made, and you somehow learn to live with the consequences.

  Instead, she took the few steps needed to bridge the gap between them, slipped her arms around him, and held him again. “I’m so sorry, Tanner.”

  He released a shuddering sigh as he hugged her back, buried his face against her hair, his lips resting at her temple. “She’s already gone,” he rasped. “I know that, but I just don’t know how to let her go, emotionally, I guess.”

  Natalie nodded and raised her eyes to his. “Letting go means releasing the responsibility. And you can’t do that because then, how would you be punished? Knowing she’s still here physically, seeing her like that, that pain is what you deserve. Right?”

  Tanner’s eyes flared, his rugged features shadowed in orange. “That’s an awfully accurate analysis.” A smile flickered and faded.