by Dawn Atkins
Since the revelation, her mother had been more open around Tara. She would never smother her with affection or be her best friend, but they were on good terms. They were talking. You take one step, then the next.
“If she doesn’t remember about the divorce lawyer, we don’t need to tell her,” her mother said. “Your father would never have gone through with that once he calmed down.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course I do. We loved each other, your father and I, no matter what you think. We built a life that worked. We were content.”
“I believe you.” It made Tara sad that her mother had settled for less. Tara would not do that. She wanted to be content, but she also wanted joy and passion, even if it got scary, even if she had to lean back and trust she would be caught.
That Dylan would catch her. The thought of him made her stomach jump and her heart turn over. They were going to talk today. He’d texted her that if his father didn’t lose his nerve, they’d be coming to the hospital to be moral support for her mother.
“We should tell her, Mom. She would want to know. She’ll understand. She knew Dad well. She worked with him every day. Secrets have only hurt this family.” Faye had cried when Tara told her that their father had been killed in the accident, but she’d accepted it bravely, ready to go forward—exactly as she’d handled the difficulties of her therapy.
“I suppose you’re right,” her mother said, giving Tara a new look of respect. “I hope I can be half as brave as Faye when I hear what I’ll be charged with.”
Her mother’s lawyer expected to hear soon from the county prosecutor on what charges he intended to file against her. With the police chief’s behavior mitigating the situation, her mother was likely to get probation and community service. Everyone involved was asking for leniency.
Rachel’s conscience would punish her plenty, along with the good citizens of Wharton. She has friends, Tara reminded herself. Not all the minds in town were small. More and more, Tara was opening her eyes to the good things about Wharton, and the people who lived here. She was letting the imprint fade.
As far as the rest of those involved in the accident, Chief Fallon maintained that he’d removed Tara’s mother from the scene so the investigation could continue. Though he would likely not be charged with anything, Dylan had offered him early retirement, which he was expected to take.
Because everyone wanted leniency, Matt would likely be charged with assault or reckless endangerment, a misdemeanor for which he would likely receive probation.
Jeb had fired him, but Miriam Zeller had made sure his family would be kept on the insurance roster through the baby’s birth. Employees from both Wharton and Ryland had started collections to help the family. Their generosity had made Tara feel even better about the town.
Faye’s survival far outweighed Tara’s anger toward either her mother or Matt for what they’d done.
The meeting with Ryland the day before had gone well. Dylan and Sean had accepted Wharton’s offer of compensation for financial losses due to the false tests, and hadn’t pushed for punitive damages. The feud between the two families seemed to be over for good.
Inside Faye’s room, bouquets and houseplants covered every surface, and bunches of Mylar balloons caught the light in bright flashes. As soon as word had gotten out that Faye was awake, gifts, flowers and cards had flooded in.
Faye was crossing the room using her walker. She stopped and formed a smile, slower than usual, but a Faye smile nonetheless.
“M-Mom...Tara.” She let go of the walker to open her arms for hugs. Their mother went first, holding on tight, eyes squeezed shut.
Then Tara wrapped her arms around Faye, still rail thin. Her fragility set off a pang in Tara’s heart. “You get better every day,” she said, which was true.
Faye made a face and pulled at the hair on one side of her head. It was frizzy. “Not...my hair.”
“I’ll fix it for you. I did your hair while you were sleeping. Did Rita tell you?”
Faye lifted one hand from the walker and wiggled her fingers. The neon polish flashed in the light. “You...do...this?”
“I did.”
“Not...my color.”
“Orange sherbet? Come on. It’s all the rage.”
This time, Faye’s smile filled her face.
“Could you sit down, Faye?” her mother said. She sat in a chair, back straight, hands in her lap. “I need to tell you something.”
Faye considered her mother’s face. “It’s...bad?”
Her mother nodded. “It’s about the accident.”
Faye’s features assumed a resigned look. She’d had to hear plenty of bad news the past few days. She made her way to the recliner, which faced her mother’s chair, and lowered herself onto the seat. “Tell...me.”
“The accident was my fault,” her mother said. “You and I argued that night. You went with your father in his car. I chased after you. I tried to pass, to make you stop, but I bumped the car.”
“You hit...us.” Faye seemed to take a bit to grasp that.
“Yes. That’s right. I hit you.”
“A broken part made the car speed up after Mom bumped you,” Tara added. “That’s why you went over the barrier.”
“I’m so sorry, Faye,” her mother said. “I never meant to hurt you or your father. I was stupid and a coward and selfish like you said, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”
“I’m...alive.... It was...an ac...cident. Don’t talk like that.” She waved her hand in their mother’s direction, her voice firm.
“It’s worse,” her mother said miserably. “I didn’t help you. I didn’t stay with you. I didn’t check on you. And I didn’t tell anyone what I did.”
Faye pondered her mother’s words for a minute, her eyes moving back and forth, sorting it out, making sense of it. Finally she exhaled. “It. Was. An. Accident.” She took care to enunciate each word. “It. Is. Over.”
Tara’s heart bloomed with pride in her sister. Faye was good, kind and forgiving, with a big, big heart. Tara was so grateful she’d always felt her sister’s love.
Their mother stared at Faye. “But it’s not,” her mother said. “It was a hit-and-run. The police might arrest me. I could go to jail.”
Faye’s eyes widened. “No. I’ll...tell them no.”
“She won’t be arrested,” Tara said. “It will likely be probation. Don’t scare her, Mom. You told her what happened. That’s enough.”
“We go from here,” Faye said. “We are...a f-fam’ly.” Faye held out her arms, but her mother shook her head, clearly not feeling worthy of an embrace.
“Go to her, Mom,” Tara said.
Her mother dropped to her knees beside Faye’s chair. Faye put her thin arms around her mother’s narrow shape. Tara looked away to give them some privacy, her throat tight.
After that, Faye sampled the food Judith had sent, and they talked about Faye’s therapy, her upcoming release, and Tara told her about what her father had given them—the bottled ships, the library and the shotgun.
“He thought of us,” Faye said. “In...his...way.”
“I wish I’d talked to him,” Tara said. “Straightened things out.”
“He knew.” Faye tapped the side of her head. “He has your...in...stincts.”
“You think so?”
“Of course,” her mother said with her usual archness. “You’re your father’s daughter. Smart and bullheaded.”
Tara smiled, touched by the comparison.
“So...glad...you’re...here,” Faye said to Tara, reaching to pat her hand. “For me...and for Wharton.”
“I’m glad, too,” Tara said. She would consult as long as she was needed, then visit often. Depending on what she and Dylan decided to do, maybe every weekend. “You think Dad would want me working at Wharton?” Tara asked.
Before Faye could answer, her mother said. “Certainly. He waved around your business card at his Kiwanis meeting.”<
br />
Tara felt the sting of tears, but fought them back. He was proud of her.
She wished Dylan were here to hear that.
At that moment, he walked through the door, as if conjured by her heart, his father behind him.
Tara stood. So did her mother.
Sean stepped forward and held out a wilted-looking bouquet wrapped in plastic.
“Oh. There’s no place to put them,” her mother said looking around at the clusters of baskets and bouquets.
“They’re for you, Rachel,” Sean said. “Water’s in the bag so they’ll last until you get them home.”
Tara’s mother flushed. “Why, thank you.” She took the flowers, which quivered in her hands, the paper crackling.
“I came in case you wanted me to speak up or explain or whatnot,” he said gravely, watching her closely. “Dylan said you were telling the tale today.”
“Thank you, but we...talked. That’s all for now. Later on...?”
“You tell me where and when and I’ll be there.”
“I will,” her mother said.
Sean stared at Faye, who was watching the exchange with a puzzled expression on her face. “You’re doing better, I can see,” he said. “All of us at Ryland are glad. I always said you were the best of the bunch over there.”
“Thank you,” Faye said.
“It’s good to see you, Faye,” Dylan said, squeezing the hand Faye held out in both of his. “Your sister’s been pretty anxious for you to wake up and give her hell.”
“I will...if you will.” Faye smiled up at him.
Dylan laughed. “It’s a deal.”
“Just what I need—you two ganging up on me,” Tara said, hoping they’d both give her hell until the day she died.
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to talk to Tara for a bit,” Dylan said to Rachel. “I’ll drive her home, if you could give my dad a lift.”
“Certainly,” Tara’s mother said, startled by the idea. She glanced at Sean, who ducked his head. Tara had never seen him so subdued. Before the settlement meeting, she’d gone into his office and apologized for accusing him of putting the faulty device on her father’s car.
He’d lectured her, as she’d expected, about rudeness and temper tantrums, but when he told her that he missed her father like a brother, tears in his eyes, she was moved.
He’d also told her not to judge her mother too harshly. Not unless you walk a mile in her moccasins.
“Okay with you?” Dylan said to Tara, giving her a look that sent electricity pouring through her.
“Sounds great.” She grinned, not caring how goofy she looked.
He grinned back just as goofily.
Before long they were flying down the highway toward home, neither of them saying much. Dylan had a plan, so she would let it unfold. She felt good beside him. She felt safe, she felt content, she felt right. And when she glanced at him and their eyes met, she felt wanted. So wanted it made her breathless.
When he turned off the highway toward the river, she peered at him. “Don’t tell me your plan includes paintball?”
“Not this time, no.” He parked below the caves and they walked up to the ridge. Dylan sat on top of a picnic table near a wall draped in bougainvillea, the blossoms bright magenta. The fall sun warmed her shoulders; the breeze lifted her hair and sent the earthy smell of the river to her nose. “What’s up?” she asked him.
“I have a business proposition for you,” he said, his smile wide, though he was trying to sound serious.
“Business? Really?” She’d assumed they’d be talking about their relationship. She felt a twinge of disappointment, but she knew better than to assume the worst. She would wait and see, trust the man she loved with all her heart.
“Yes. Ryland Engineering will be restructuring soon. The plan is to break off a research and development division my father will run. That’s where his heart is. He’s happiest behind a drafting table. Victor Lansing will take over for me with full authority over manufacturing.”
“Wow. That is big.”
“I’ll serve as an adviser, but intend to focus on my work with Wharton. So, we could use some help with the transition. Are you interested?”
“It’s intriguing,” she said. “I have to admit. I’ll be working at Wharton Electronics for a while, too. I’d have to do some juggling, but...”
“So, you’ll do it? I should warn you I won’t take no for an answer.”
She loved the look on his face, like he wanted her and her alone. She felt the same about him.
“Just to seal the deal,” he continued, “I’d like to take you on a little Chamber of Commerce tour, give you a fresh look at the town.”
“Okay.”
“Here you can see the natural beauty of this area. It’s a bird sanctuary, a protected river region, popular for paintball wars, rock hopping or making love, depending on your mood.”
“And whether you’ve got vinegar chips and German chocolate cake?”
“Exactly.” He explained that he wanted to add new hiking trails, camping spots and guided tours with an ecological bent.
They returned to Dylan’s car, then drove toward town. He described where new business might be located, possible housing developments, an amphitheater for concerts, more shopping and office parks. Along the way, he pointed out places they’d spent time together—the Egyptian theater, Ruby’s, the bowling alley, the park, the high school.
When he reached the intersection where he would turn toward her house, he said, “That’s it then. I could take you home...unless there’s anything else you’d like to see?” He looked at her, eyes twinkling.
“Actually I heard there’s a golden retriever who does tricks. And a computer-guided telescope for stargazing and a kitchen full of gourmet cookware.”
“I know exactly where you mean. There might even be clean sheets on the bed.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
He hadn’t said a word, but she knew that Dylan wanted what she wanted—to be together, to make it work. Her whole body was alive to him, and her heart sang. New confidence filled her. This was right.
She wasn’t walking away. She would work at it and so would he.
They drove to Dylan’s place and went inside. “Golden retriever,” Dylan announced. Tara crouched for European greeting.
“The telescope’s out back, so you’ll have to stick around until the stars come out.”
“I think I can handle that. As long as the sheets are as advertised?”
“If they’re not, I’ll make them so.”
“Then I’m in,” she said, sexy and teasing, but serious, too.
“Me, too. All in.” He pulled her close. “What do you think of the new Wharton?”
“New or old, if you’re in it, it’s fine by me.”
“I love you. I can’t lose you.” He touched her cheek, the contact warming her to her toes. “You’re first in my heart. Whatever I have to do to prove it to you, I’ll do.”
“You already have. You’ve been there for me from the beginning, with a hand at my back, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. You’ve been there for me in all the ways that count.”
“I always wanted to be, Tara.”
“I was afraid if I let myself love you, I’d go back to how I was—lost and insecure and a failure. But I’m not like that anymore. I am better. And I do know how to love. You helped me to see that.”
“Good. Because it’s true.”
“I’m not an easy person. I know that.”
“Easy’s overrated. I need you to keep me on my toes, keep me thinking, challenge me.”
“Tickle your brain?”
“And other parts.” He gave her that look.
She shivered.
“You helped me see that it was time to leave Ryland Engineering. Hell, you practically saved the company.” He paused. “You saved me.” The look in his eyes and the rough emotion in his voice told her how much he loved her. “I was so lonely and
I didn’t even know it.”
“Me, too. Until I saw you again and felt like I fit, like I was known...and loved.” Tara swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Let’s face it, I’m never going to love Wharton, but you’re here and my family’s here, and that’s enough for me.”
“Don’t forget the empanadas.”
“How could I? We’ll have to go to Tucson for those, though. Turns out Ruthie’s taking that food truck opportunity.”
“I’ll convince her to leave us the recipe. I’m town manager, after all.”
She laughed, then she got serious. “I’ll be away a lot, you know. Travel can hurt relationships.”
“But you’ll always come home to me. If our love can last ten years, it can last a few hundred miles...or a few thousand.”
“Sometimes the first love is the best love.”
“Who knew?” He leaned in and kissed her, and her entire being rose to meet him. Tara breathed him in. Dylan. Home.
In the background, Duster lumbered toward the bedroom. He knew where they were headed before they did.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Spirit of Christmas by Liz Talley!
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CHAPTER ONE
MARY PAIGE GENTRY stepped into an icy puddle of water as she exited the taxi with not only one high-heeled shoe, but both of them.
“Darn, darn, darn!” she said, trying to turn back to the driver without stepping into the cold water again. The cabbie raised bushy eyebrows and she tossed him a glare. “I assume you didn’t see that puddle when you pulled up?”
