The Memory of You

by Catherine West

  “I’m only saying if Dad hadn’t left, maybe things would have been different.”

  “Things wouldn’t have been different.” Marnie pushed long curls behind her shoulders and nailed him with those clear eyes that saw right through him. “Things might have been worse. Moving didn’t make me better. You know that.”

  He sat in silence, not sure what to say. “Will it always be like this?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged, her eyes glistening under the glow of the moon. “All I know is, I needed to get back here, to Mom. She’d make sure the kids were taken care of. Their father can’t do it and I . . . Sometimes I don’t trust myself with them.”

  Tanner knew. He’d seen her flares of temper, watched Jason flinch at her touch and Jeni snuggle in closer to his mom when the winds changed and the other side of his sister showed up. It broke his heart, but he’d vowed from the beginning that his first priority would be to protect his niece and nephew.

  “I hate it.” Marnie swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “I hate that they’re scared of me sometimes. I love them so much, but I can’t . . . I can’t stop things once they start. I need you to make sure they’re safe, Tanner. Do whatever it takes, whatever you need to, okay?”

  Tanner stared at her, his chest tight, his breath coming hard and fast. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, nodding as she gave way to sobs. “I’ll look after them, Marn. I promise.”

  Whatever it takes . . .

  Tanner wiped his eyes and got to his feet, his head pounding, heart heavy, but his load a little lighter. He placed Marnie’s hands one over the other atop the light blanket that covered her motionless frame. Inhaled and tasted the salt of his tears as he managed a last smile for her and bent to kiss her cool cheek. “Rest well, sis. I’ll take care of things here.”

  He straightened, took a final glance around the room, and accepted what would come.

  The next time he stood here, it would be for the last time.

  But he’d gotten his chance to say good-bye, made his peace.

  His focus now was on the kids.

  Twenty-Six

  JEFFREY STOOD IN THE SMALL GRAVEYARD ON FRIDAY MORNING, zipped up his beige Windbreaker, and huddled against the mid-October wind that nipped his heels. The sun was just cresting over the rows of grapes. Soon the day would warm, but for now he’d enjoy the chill in the air.

  He knelt beside the granite headstone and ran his finger over his mother’s name.

  GRACE CONSTANCE MITCHELL

  BELOVED WIFE

  CHERISHED MOTHER

  SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS

  He hesitated over the Scripture verses. Jeremiah 29:11 and Romans 10:13. He knew the first one from memory. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord . . . but he stalled on the second. Jeffrey fished out his iPhone and clicked on his Bible app. Couldn’t remember when he’d last used it.

  As soon as he scrolled to the verse, he knew it.

  “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

  Everyone?

  He sank to his knees, his eyes burning.

  After everything he’d done, he wouldn’t be included on that list. He’d turned his back on his family, betrayed the woman who loved him.

  Killed people.

  Committed murder under the guise of serving his country, doing his job.

  Sometimes he’d pulled the trigger to save his own life. Sometimes he’d pulled it because he could. Sometimes . . . God forgive me . . . because he’d wanted to.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and listened to his ragged breathing.

  His shoulders shook with the effort it took to contain his sorrow.

  Jeffrey inhaled the scent of the soil and the sweet smell of grapes that still lingered on the vines. He wished God would show him what to do next. He placed a hand on the dry ground beneath him, felt the life of the land pulse through him like an electric current.

  And then he felt the thud of boots coming up behind him.

  He didn’t have to turn to know his father crouched next to him. He rested a hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder and uttered a thick sigh.

  “Your mother loved you very much, son. And she was proud of you. We both were.”

  Jeffrey lifted his head and looked into his father’s eyes. “Were you?”

  His dad sank to his knees and flashed a withering smile. “Did I wish you had stayed here, worked the vines with me? Sure. But over time, I came to realize that you needed to create your own life. Not the one your mother or I thought you should have, but the one you wanted. Even if you were making a mistake, I knew we had to let you go. And you did well, son. The work you did over there, that was important.”

  Jeffrey stared, realizing for the first time that perhaps his parents really had been proud of him. “I came to love it,” Jeffrey told him. “I even met someone eventually. Lisa. We worked in the field together for years. She wasn’t much like Sarah, but she was passionate, brave. I thought I loved her enough to maybe bring her home one day.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Jeffrey released a broken sigh. “She was killed. Ten years ago. I almost quit then, wanted to give it up and come home, but I became consumed with revenge. So I stayed.”

  “Did you find them?”

  “Yes.”

  Dad’s eyes shimmered with understanding. “And did it help you? Did it validate your grief?”

  “No.” Jeffrey shook his head and blinked moisture. “It only made it worse.”

  Dad nodded somberly and picked at a few blades of grass. “Do you remember when I used to take you and Bill hunting?”

  “Sure.” Jeffrey shrugged. They would make the five-hour trip north every year to the rustic cabin in the Marble Mountains. The area was stark, cold, and beautiful. But he’d enjoyed it mainly because he got to hang out with his father.

  “I remember the day you shot your first buck. Do you?”

  “Yeah.” He’d been about ten or eleven. At first he thrilled to the thought. Imagined going back to school and bragging about it. Maybe take pictures for them all to see. But he’d locked eyes with the animal, and somehow he couldn’t do it. He wanted to put the gun down and run. Then Bill nudged him, called him a wuss, and Jeffrey pulled the trigger. Bill and Dad ended up skinning the thing. Jeffrey hadn’t touched venison since.

  “I guess hunting was never my thing.”

  “Your brother enjoyed the kill. You didn’t. I saw it in your eyes that day. After that, I was happy to let you fish while we went out. I didn’t force you to shoot again. A man has to make his own way. And you were making yours. Which is why your career path always baffled me.”

  Jeffrey nodded. “Yeah.” He flexed his fingers and watched a flock of birds descend on the copse of cypress trees at the crest of the hill.

  After he fled California, he’d met up with a buddy in London. Simon introduced him to some friends and the next thing he knew, Jeffrey was so deep in the world of espionage he didn’t think he’d ever get out. “I suppose I chose it because it was something so far beyond what I thought I would ever do. I left home because I wanted more. I didn’t want to do the expected thing, work for you, marry Sarah, and have a family. As crass as it sounds now, the thought of that life was stifling. I was a stupid kid who didn’t value what he had. I thought I could reinvent myself. I did it so well I forgot who I really was.”

  “And where you came from.”

  “Yes.” He ran a hand down his damp face. “The last mission I led ended badly. I wanted to resign, but my boss convinced me to take leave and reassess. I . . . I’ve been a bit of a mess, for years actually. PTSD, same as Natalie. Funny, huh?”

  “No.” Silence ran along with the stream at the bottom of the hill. “What is it you want, Jeffrey?” Dad asked. “More importantly, what do you think God wants for you?”

  Jeffrey studied his mother’s headstone through a haze of tears. “I’d like to be happy. And I think . . . perhaps I could be
happy here.”

  “All right.” Dad nodded. “It’s never too late to start over.”

  He met his father’s eyes, incredulous. “Would you have me? Would you let me come back here and work with you?”

  “Of course I would. But maybe I’m not the only one you need to ask.” His father’s knowing look brought a smile.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, Sarah isn’t talking to me.”

  “Sarah has a lot going on. I think you’ll find she needs you more than she’s willing to admit.”

  “You think she’ll forgive me?” He needed to believe that. Needed to believe second chances were possible.

  “I suspect she already has.” They stood together and Dad squeezed his shoulder with a smile. “Now that you know what you want, son, it’s time to go after it.”

  Jeffrey found Sarah in the kitchen after lunch that day.

  “Thought you didn’t work Fridays.”

  She looked his way. “I don’t. But I had to take a couple days off when Jeni was sick, so I’m catching up.”

  “Need some help?”

  “Suit yourself.” Her reply made him grin. It was a start.

  He joined her at the sink and grabbed a plate to dry. She moved about the kitchen putting things away and obviously trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

  Finally she spoke. “How do you think things are going with the vineyard? Has Natalie decided what to do yet?”

  He placed a couple glasses in the dishwasher and turned to face her. “I think she has.”

  Hope lit Sarah’s eyes. “Does she want to stay?”

  “I’m not sure she knows that yet. But I suspect your son wouldn’t complain if she did.”

  “No, he probably wouldn’t.”

  Her smile tugged at his heart and made him want to take her in his arms. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans instead.

  “And you, Jeffrey? Your father seems to think you might be staying awhile.”

  “Well, that depends on your definition of awhile.”

  She rolled her eyes in familiar fashion. “Which means you have no idea.”

  “It means I’m doing some thinking.”

  “Well, if you are planning on staying longer, could you please stop stalking me?”

  “I’m not stalking you.” He chuckled at the pretty flush rising in her cheeks. “If I was stalking you, you would have no idea I was doing it.”

  Sarah dried her hands on a tea towel. “Of course I wouldn’t. I imagine you’re well trained in all manner of stealth, aren’t you, Jeffrey?”

  Now he felt his own cheeks heat. What was wrong with him?

  He smiled anyway and watched light dance in her brown eyes.

  The years had been kind to her. More than kind. In his estimation, she was even more beautiful than she’d been as a young girl. Hardly a hint of gray in her honey-colored hair, and only a few laugh lines around her eyes.

  He wondered what Sarah saw when she looked at him. Not the virile young buck she’d planned on marrying, that’s for sure. Probably the washed-up old guy he felt like most days.

  “How’s your shoulder?” She backed up against the counter and crossed her arms.

  “My what?”

  “You’ve been favoring your right arm since you arrived. And judging by the slight limp and the bruise along the left side of your face that’s just starting to fade, I’d guess you were in a heck of an accident. Or something. Is that why you came back here?”

  The question hit him like an unexpected strong wind.

  Jeffrey rocked back on his heels. How could she read him so easily after all these years?

  “I can’t really talk about it.” He couldn’t blurt out his failures, his fears. Couldn’t admit he’d been wrong on so many levels.

  “Sorry I asked.” Sarah brushed past him to the door.

  “Wait.” Jeffrey reached for her arm.

  She tossed him a hard look over her shoulder. “You were never too fond of intimate conversations and, given your current line of work, I assume that hasn’t changed.”

  “Sarah.” Jeffrey refused to let her go. He held her hands in his and pulled her closer. So close he could see her tears shimmering, threatening to slip down her cheeks.

  “Don’t, Jeff.” Her lower lip trembled. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. Too much time has passed. It’s too late.”

  “I don’t believe it’s ever too late to say you’re sorry.” His voice thickened with unexpected sorrow, and he managed a weak smile. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this moment. Talked myself out of it. Said the same as you, that it was too late. Whether it means anything to you now, I truly am sorry. I can’t change how I treated you. I abandoned you on what should have been the happiest day of your life, but I can tell you this, I’ve regretted it every day since.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she whispered.

  He held her hands and waited until she looked at him. Wet trails marked her cheeks. Jeffrey sighed and wished he could make things right. “I know you got on with your life—married and had a family. But I didn’t. I left my life here. With you. I know I won’t get a second chance, I’ve accepted that. But I need to ask for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it but—”

  “Stop.” She shook her head, drew in a breath, and finally smiled.

  “What?” Jeffrey battled confusion.

  “It’s already done,” she said, placing a hand against his chest.

  “What is?” He wondered at the peaceful look that broke through her tears. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know.” Her smile grew braver. “Why don’t we go sit outside. I’ll explain.”

  They sat in a shady section of the patio and Jeffrey listened to her story, hung on her every word, and reiterated the fact that he was a first-class fool.

  “So, that’s how Tanner and I ended up back in Sonoma.” Sarah dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex. “I feel like I failed my daughter, Jeff. I was a nurse. I should have been able to deal with her illness. Instead, I pushed her away, lived in denial pretending it wasn’t happening. I have so many regrets, especially now, when I won’t get the chance to make things right with her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She met his eyes, sighed deep, and smiled. “Letting Marnie go will be the hardest thing we’ve ever done, but I trust God to get us through.” She squeezed his hands with a laugh. “When you first showed up, I questioned God. I couldn’t understand why, at this time, when I’m already dealing with so much, but maybe—” Her voice hitched and her anguish tore through him.

  “Maybe I’m here because you need someone?”

  She nodded and Jeffrey stood, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. He held her as she cried. And in that heartbreaking moment, he made his peace.

  With his own past.

  With God.

  And he made a promise that whatever came next, he would never let this woman down again.

  Twenty-Seven

  NATALIE AND TANNER SPENT THAT SATURDAY TOGETHER. Went to Jason’s game, took the kids out for burgers, and later, Tanner picked her up for dinner. A real date, he promised.

  Sarah had said she was waiting to hear from Tanner’s dad, wasn’t sure what day he and Rance would be arriving, and Tanner didn’t want to talk about it. For a few hours, they let reality slip away and relaxed in each other’s company over good food and an excellent bottle of wine—from Maoilios, of course.

  They pulled up to Grandpa Hal’s just before ten. Natalie noticed the strange car in the driveway at once. “Who’s here at this hour?”

  Tanner shrugged but a frown crested his forehead. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  As soon as they entered the foyer, Natalie heard voices, one of them Sarah’s. “What’s going on?”

  Tanner set his jaw and strode ahead of her.

  They found Grandpa, Uncle Jeff, and Tanner’s mom in the living room. Sarah was in conversation with two men Natalie had never seen before. Everyone in the room turne
d their way as they entered.

  “Oh no.” Tanner exhaled and leaned over his knees like he might pass out.

  Uncle Jeff was by his side in an instant. “Take it easy, kid.” He placed a hand under Tanner’s elbow. Natalie held his other arm, her heart pounding. She caught the flash of anger in Tanner’s eyes as he straightened and stared at them.

  “Tanner.” The older of the two men stepped forward. “It’s good to see you, son.”

  His father.

  Natalie moved a little closer and studied the man. It wasn’t hard to see where Tanner got his good looks. He was about Tanner’s height, dark hair flecked with just a few gray strands. Dressed in a three-piece suit and shiny black shoes, he could have walked into one of her company board meetings and been right at home.

  The other man was younger, in his thirties maybe, dressed in faded jeans, a black T-shirt emblazoned with the emblem of some band she’d never heard of. Tattoos curled around both biceps and a diamond stud sparkled from one ear. He caught her staring, narrowed a pair of startling blue eyes, and crossed his arms.

  Not terribly friendly, whoever he was.

  “Natalie.” Grandpa Hal cleared his throat, stood in front of the two men. His eyes were clouded with worry. “Allow me to introduce you. This is Brian Collins, Tanner’s father. And this is Rance Harper. Marnie’s husband.”

  “Ex-husband,” Tanner ground out.

  “Dude, chill,” Rance said, emitting a frustrated-sounding sigh.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Natalie prayed Tanner wouldn’t take a swing at the guy. “I’m Natalie Mitchell, Hal’s granddaughter.” She wasn’t sure it was nice to meet them, so she didn’t say so. She shook hands instead. Then she glanced at Sarah. Her stricken look told the story.

  Told her why they were here.