Coming Home for Christmas

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Luke turned around to look at her. The morning sun streaming in around him veiled his expression. What was he thinking?

  “Let me be clear. No more...ambiguities. My husband did not have any idea I was...leaving. He did not contribute in any way to my...decision to leave. I left of my own...free will that night, thinking I was...protecting my children. After the accident, I...stayed away because I thought it was the right choice for my family. I have medical records dating back to the night I left. I have scars. You can...see those, if you’d like. I don’t care. I just want you to...clear Luke of any wrongdoing.”

  “You’ve been living under an assumed name, using someone else’s identity while a great deal of Lake Haven County resources have been wasted looking for you.”

  She had full permission from John’s family to live under his wife’s name, the wife who had left him and who Alice had discovered had been killed by her jealous lover, father of the child she had abandoned with her parents in Russia to pursue a new life overseas. Even knowing the truth, John’s sister had given her all the proceeds from his life insurance for her medical costs, over Elizabeth’s protests. Alice had claimed she deserved them, since his moment of inattention on the road had been responsible for the accident and for her life-changing injuries. At the time, she hadn’t been sure if she would ever be able to work again, so she had grudgingly accepted.

  Alice’s husband was an attorney as well and had made sure the arrangement was legal and binding.

  Still, she had taken on a name that was not her own, which had technically been illegal.

  “Go ahead, then. Arrest me. Just leave...Luke out of it.”

  Luke returned to his chair beside her. He lifted a hand, almost as if he wanted to touch her, then dropped it back to his thigh.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re surprised by this information?” the district attorney asked him. “You told me you knew your wife’s whereabouts.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. I hope this is the end of things. You’re going to drop this misguided witch hunt to charge me in connection with her disappearance, right? You can’t exactly put me on trial for killing a woman who is very much alive.”

  “I find it interesting that you say you’ve known your wife’s whereabouts for months, since Elliot Bailey uncovered them, but have chosen not to bring her forward until now. Why is that, Mr. Hamilton?”

  “That is between my wife and me, Ms. Torres.” He stood up. “Are we finished here?”

  “I suppose there’s nothing else to do at this time. You should know, Mrs. Hamilton, that a great deal of time and effort has been wasted. Hundreds, if not thousands, of law enforcement hours have been spent trying to find you over the past seven years.”

  “I am...sorry for that. More sorry than I can say. For the record, I wanted to come home almost from the...moment I left. I...I never expected to wind up in a coma and wake up with no clear memory of...who I was or...or all I had left behind.”

  This time, she did feel the warm brush of his fingers, gently touching the skin at the back of her hand where she gripped the armrest. It was only a fleeting touch but made her choke down a sob and fight the urge to collapse into his arms.

  “Are we done here?” Luke demanded again.

  The attorney sighed and threw her pen on the desk. “We’re done. Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. I hope I don’t have to see you again.”

  Chapter Ten

  As they left the district attorney’s office and walked into the hallway of the courthouse, Luke felt as if he were the one who had just survived a terrible car accident.

  Every muscle in his body ached from the impact of the last hour spent listening to the harrowing details of Elizabeth’s story.

  In all his wildest imaginings—that she had left him for another man, that she had been abducted and sold for sex trafficking, that she had walked into Lake Haven with rocks tied around her neck—he could not have guessed the truth about why she had never returned.

  A car accident. A coma. Long, painful months of rehabilitation. Christina Torres was right. It sounded unbelievable—except the evidence had been staring him in the face since she opened the door and walked out onto the porch of that big house in Oregon where she had been living.

  He had known something hard had happened to her. She used a cane; her steps faltered; she stumbled over words. He had known life had not been kind to her since she left him. Some part of him had been selfishly, secretly glad of that. Now he was ashamed of himself. She had been trying to come back to face her unhappiness when fate had played the most cruel of tricks.

  Luke had grieved for his wife for many long years, thinking she must have died or she would have come back to him and the children. When he had found out she was still alive, only living a different life away from him, that grief had shifted to hurt, betrayal, fury. It had clouded his judgment.

  Now he simply did not know what to think.

  The divorce papers rustled in his hand. He had forgotten all about them. Luke had intended to have her sign the papers here, where they easily could find a notary public. Then he planned to take them to his attorney to be filed.

  He gripped the folder, hesitant to just thrust them at her after all she had been through.

  He stood uncertainly for a moment, then noticed she looked pale, her features, so different yet oddly familiar, strained.

  A couple of chairs had been set into an alcove overlooking the town’s Main Street and the lake beyond. He led her there and she sank down, looking grateful for a momentary respite.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He had to ask.

  She folded her hands together in her lap, fingers intertwined. “I tried when you first came to pick me up at...Brambleberry House. You...didn’t want to hear it.”

  He had been so furious that day. Not that day. For months, since finding out she was still alive. He was tired of it, so very weary of the constant grinding pain in his chest.

  What had she endured? It sounded like sheer hell, physically and emotionally, having to relearn everything. He hated knowing she had been alone during that time, facing all that pain and uncertainty without the support of her loving family. He and the children could have helped her through.

  He cringed to think of his own rigidity, his unwillingness to listen to her explanations.

  “I’m sorry.” The words somehow forced their way past the lump in his throat. “I’ve been an ass. I should have let you explain when you tried to on the way here from Oregon.”

  Her hand fluttered out to touch his but she drew back quickly. “Don’t apologize. Please. I could have...told you anyway. I should have. I should have found the courage to tell you...long ago.”

  “Why didn’t you?” This was the point that still eluded him. “I know you’ve come back to Haven Point several times over the years. You could have said something. Did you think I wouldn’t want to know? That I wouldn’t care? I thought you were dead, Elizabeth. I grieved for you. You have no idea how I grieved.”

  She made a small sound of distress, that hand fluttering again. He wanted to take her fingers into his and warm them, protect them from any future harm.

  “As soon as I could...safely travel by myself, I came to Lake Haven. I’m not sure what I intended. I just... I had to see you and the children. I missed you all so much.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me and explain then? Were you...afraid of me for some reason?”

  Luke had to ask the question he dreaded. What other conclusion could he reach? He’d tried to be a loving husband, not raising his voice or flying off the handle. But maybe there was more of his father in him than just the similarity of their appearance. Maybe he had done or said something that had convinced her he would hurt her if she stayed.

  Her eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine shock. “No. Never! I wanted to see you. But the
trip didn’t...turn out the way I planned. I had a...seizure the first night, all alone in the hotel room. It...terrified me. I was lucky that I didn’t hurt myself more than I did.”

  That more implied some level of injury during the episode. He suddenly couldn’t seem to get the picture of her out of his head, trembling and afraid in an impersonal hotel room, while her husband who might have helped her was only a phone call away.

  Why hadn’t she told him?

  “Did you go to the hospital?”

  “I should have. But I didn’t want the...questions here. I ended up flying back to Portland the next day and taking a taxi to the...hospital there. The next time, I came prepared with my...emergency seizure medication and...John’s sister on speed dial so she could...call an ambulance if something went wrong.”

  All those contingency plans, when she could have simply dropped the subterfuge and told him who she was.

  “You came back to see the children.”

  “Yes. I...came to the school’s big Christmas program. It would have been...four years ago. Cassie would have been in...kindergarten. I...couldn’t stop staring at all of you.”

  Had he seen her there? Been attracted to her? Wondered about her? He couldn’t remember.

  “I was...going to talk to you after the concert but then saw you were...with someone. A woman. You looked happy. Much happier than I had seen you those last hard months after Bridger was born. I thought...maybe you had moved on. It had...been so long.”

  The divorce papers in his hand suddenly seemed heavier, somehow. “You misunderstood something you saw. Jumped to the wrong conclusion. I couldn’t have been with anyone. I haven’t dated at all.”

  Shock widened those blue eyes again. “No one?”

  He made a face. “I’m not exactly prime dating material around town. When a guy is suspected of murdering his wife, most sane women tend to stay away.”

  He could not deny that a few women had the opposite reaction, considering him dangerous, unpredictable. The dark suspicions that swirled around him attracted a certain type of woman, those who wanted that walk on the wild side. A fling with one of them hadn’t interested him and anything else was impossible.

  “I’m a married man, under the eyes of the law. And a suspected murderer under the eyes of everyone else. Nice women don’t want to have much to do with me.”

  “Oh. I must have...misunderstood what I saw. The woman was blonde and pretty and kissed you on the cheek after the show. That wasn’t the...only time I saw you with her. She...seemed to have a kindergartner, too.”

  It took him another moment before he remembered sitting beside Pam Hartwell, whose son had been in Cassie’s kindergarten class. She had been recently divorced around that time and they had hung out a few times, talking about some of the challenges of single parenting. It had purely been a friendship and she had started dating a guy in Shelter Springs not long after.

  “You misunderstood,” he said again. “I haven’t dated anyone. It’s been all I could do to raise the kids and keep the business going.”

  She was quiet. “I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. I should never have...left that night. But I had hit bottom and...and didn’t want to drag you down, too. I didn’t see...any other way.”

  All the years of grief and these last months of hate seemed such a waste of time and energy.

  Could he have done something differently, helped her more than he had when she was struggling with depression? In retrospect, Luke knew he hadn’t been the most supportive husband. He had been overwhelmed trying to care for a baby and a toddler by himself and work enough to support his family. He’d been short-tempered, tired, afraid and mostly filled with a deep yearning for the sweet, joy-filled wife he had married.

  “Do you have...papers for me to sign?” Elizabeth asked, gesturing to the packet in his hand. “We can...file them while we’re here.”

  Her voice faltered and he suddenly noticed she looked pale. Her hands were shaking and her mouth was pinched.

  He couldn’t imagine everything she had been through, the depth of the physical and emotional trauma she had endured. Trapped in a car for hours with a dead man, lost in a coma, then coming out helpless and alone.

  His chest felt tight as he pictured her in a hospital, afraid, in pain, with no one to help her.

  “You look like you’re going to fall over.” He avoided her question. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?”

  She sent him a wary look. “I wasn’t hungry. Too nervous, if you want the truth.”

  “Let’s get something in your system,” he said. He hadn’t been there to care for her when she had needed him but he could help her now.

  “I’m still not hungry.” She looked at the papers in his hand. “I know you want to...get this over with.”

  “You can sign the papers after we eat.”

  She seemed surprised but didn’t argue as he rose and headed to the elevator. Neither of them spoke as they made their way out to his pickup truck. He had made her climb in alone, he remembered, and was ashamed all over again of his unfeeling attitude.

  This time he lent an arm and helped boost her into the high vehicle. She offered him a tentative smile that made him feel even worse.

  He climbed in to start his pickup. “Anywhere you would like to eat? If not, I was thinking I should just take you back home so you can rest.”

  “I can’t...hide out in that house. If we’re going to go to lunch, we should eat somewhere in Haven Point.”

  “Why?”

  “We need to start repairing your...reputation. People can’t accuse you of being involved in my...disappearance when they see us together. If I just leave...town, you’ll be in the same position you are now. No one will believe you.”

  “I suppose there’s some truth to that,” he admitted slowly. He didn’t want to trot around in public with Elizabeth simply to prove his innocence but didn’t know any other way to quiet the gossip. “Where would you suggest we go? Anywhere you have been missing? You always liked Serrano’s, if I remember correctly.”

  It had been their favorite place to eat when they were dating and after they were married, though they hadn’t been able to afford it often.

  “I still like it. I ate lunch there...by myself yesterday. It was as good as I...remember. And busy. Everyone eats lunch there.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  As he drove around the lake again, Luke’s brain went into hyperdrive with all the questions he wanted to ask.

  “Why Cannon Beach?” he asked.

  It wasn’t the most compelling among the many things he wanted to know, but he’d been wondering about what had led her there since he drove into the charming little beach town to find her.

  “Oh. A friend of John’s sister has a vacation house there. I was...staying in it for a time after...well, after my memory came back, when I just needed...time to think through everything. I liked it there and...found a part-time job at the local garden center.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You always loved to have your hands in the dirt.”

  “It is soothing to me. Comforting. Also, I thought it would help me...regain some muscle tone. And I found I was...good at growing things. A client asked me to do some work at a...property she owned. Brambleberry House. Where you...picked me up. I ended up...falling in love with the place. An apartment opened up a few months later and she...asked if I wanted it at a discounted rate in exchange for...landscaping work. Of course I said...yes. That was...about three years ago. I’ve been there...ever since.”

  He had a feeling she had left many details out of her sanitized version of events.

  “You said you have seizures. That’s what happened that night in the hotel, isn’t it? You said it was a bad dream but it didn’t seem like a dream to me.”

  Her sigh was heavy. “Yes. A...small one. I haven’t had one
in a long time. They have been mostly controlled with medication, unless I find myself under great stress or overdo things.”

  He certainly had stressed her by showing up out of the blue and insisting she come back to Haven Point with him. He should have given her a little more warning.

  He felt guilty for that but it warred with an unexpected lightness, something he hadn’t known in a long time.

  She had tried to come back.

  The lake gleamed a vivid blue as he drove around it, brighter than he’d seen it in a long time.

  He wasn’t happy, exactly. Just relieved, he supposed. She had left him but she had been trying to make her way back.

  She hadn’t talked about everything that had happened to her, though, and Luke found he wanted to know more.

  “What else are you dealing with from the accident, besides the seizures?”

  “I told you they’re mostly controlled.”

  “But not completely.”

  She sighed again. “I don’t like...talking about the accident, Luke. Something hard happened to me, but I survived. It’s part of me but doesn’t...define me.”

  He was beginning to realize that. She was so much more than she’d been even a decade ago, when he’d fallen for her. “It was hard for you today, talking about it.”

  She nodded. “Even my best friends in Oregon don’t know everything about...about the accident.”

  At least she hadn’t been completely alone. She had John Davis’s sister and the other tenants at Brambleberry House who had looked at him with such defiance.

  “That woman I met the other day. Rosa. She seemed very protective of you.”

  “She’s small but fierce. My other friend Melissa is much the same. They...watch out for me.”

  “So why haven’t you told them your story?” he asked as he reached the Haven Point city boundaries. Almost without thinking, he turned away from downtown and headed toward his house along the lake.