Return to Emmett's Mill

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Too late. “You should go. I think we’ve said everything that can be said.”

  He held her stare. “No, we haven’t. Not by a long shot,” he promised, and advanced toward her, grabbing her gently by the shoulders so she could read the truth in his eyes. “You deserve justice. There must be something we can do.”

  “Like what? Dig him up and scream at his bones? Drive to his wife’s house and tell her what a monster she was married to? And then what? It won’t change the facts. He did what he did and now he’s dead. End of story. He didn’t give a rip about my pain and I don’t care to expose to the world what happened to me when I was too stupid to notice the warning signs!”

  That last bit came from a dark and bitter place that she rarely allowed to see the light of day, but it flew out of her mouth like verbal vomit and she couldn’t stop it. Tears sprang to her eyes and she tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he pulled her into his arms instead and she sagged against him.

  “You aren’t to blame,” he said sternly, yet his touch was gentle as he caressed the back of her head. “He was a sick bastard who took advantage of a young woman who’d never been exposed to anyone so depraved. How could you have known what to watch for?”

  She didn’t answer but clung to Josh so tightly that if it were possible, they might’ve merged into one body. She’d seen Bronson’s hungry looks when he thought she wasn’t watching. But when her gut instinct told her to quit, the logical side of her brain had convinced her she was being ridiculous. It was Bronson—a man she’d known for years. He’d never do something so awful. A sob racked her body and Josh held her tighter. “I should’ve quit. I should’ve paid better attention. I should’ve…screamed.”

  “You worked for him?” Josh asked, astounded.

  Tasha looked away. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “What a rotten bastard,” he whispered into her hair. “Please let me help you get through this.”

  His plea filtered down through her tears. Good, sweet Josh. Always her champion. Tasha held on to him for one second longer, soaking up as much comfort from his embrace as possible, before resolutely pulling away. “Josh, you can’t fix this,” she said sadly. “And I won’t drag you down with me. Just let it go. Please.”

  Josh started to protest, but something in her eyes snapped his mouth shut. After a long moment, he shook his head and turned on his heel.

  As she listened to the sound of his truck pulling away, she stared at the tree line, hating her life.

  She’d never wanted Josh to know what happened to her. His ignorance preserved a piece of her that was pure and innocent. Now that he knew, she felt dirty and exposed…and worse, heartbroken for the loss of the last part of her that was untouched.

  GERALD EASED AWAY FROM the windowsill, unseen by either Tasha or Josh. Regret. Deep and heavy regret left a metallic taste in his mouth. An old painful conversation floated from his memory and he shook his head as if the motion would dislodge it. But the memory persisted.

  “Dad…” Tasha had implored, her entire body shaking. “Please believe me. I wouldn’t lie,” she’d whispered.

  The sound echoed in his skull and he winced. His own shameful answer returned to haunt him.

  “Bronson Lewis is a good man! How could you say such a thing? My own daughter? For God’s sake, Natasha! Bronson thinks of you as his own! What you’re saying is impossible!”

  Tasha’s sobs rang in his ears, but her stricken expression was something he saw every night in his dreams. He’d forced his own daughter away because he couldn’t believe his best friend would do something so repugnant. He remembered Missy’s pale face, her blue eyes wide with fear, looking to him for guidance yet begging him to protect their daughter if she’d been hurt, and he’d failed them both.

  Missy, bless her sweet soul, never said a cross word to him about the situation, trusting him to make the right decision, but he was too proud to admit he’d made the wrong choice. Horribly wrong. His friendship with Bronson ended abruptly, though Missy had tried to keep things friendly with Diane. He couldn’t look at the man. Tasha’s tear-streaked face stared back at him whenever he thought of rekindling anything.

  His lips trembled. Missy, I let you down.

  Worse, he betrayed Tasha. His firstborn.

  A wave of remorse almost buckled his knees, but he straightened with a newborn sense of resolve. He could do his part to help his daughter. He owed her that much.

  Just as his hand grasped the side-door handle, intent on righting a grievous wrong, a sudden crushing pressure in his chest took his breath away, causing him to stumble. He opened his mouth to call out, but it felt as if a giant hand had punched through his chest, squeezing his heart muscle to pulp. “Tash—” he gasped, black dots dancing before his eyes.

  Collapsing, he barely felt his body connect with the hardwood floor. The black dots nearly converged until a radiant, white light split the darkness and he blinked slowly against its brilliance.

  “My darling.”

  Missy’s voice floated from the center of the blazing light and the pain subsided in his chest. “Missy?” he called out, struggling to sit up until a soft hand on his shoulder gently stilled his movement.

  Missy, young and vibrant, achingly beautiful, knelt by his side and he started to babble like a baby until she shushed him.

  “It’s not your time. Our daughters need you.”

  “Missy…” Gerald cried, tears overflowing his eyes in the way he didn’t allow at the funeral. “Missy, please. Don’t leave me again.”

  It was a desperate plea, but he wasn’t ashamed. He missed his wife in a way that was palpable.

  She smiled and the light seemed to blaze brighter. “I’m always with you. In your heart…”

  Missy’s image began to fade and Gerald reached for her. She shook her head. “Be strong, Gerald. This is going…to hurt.”

  Her last words ended just as the light winked out and Gerald became painfully aware as volts of electricity kick-started his heart. Paramedics surrounded him and an oxygen mask was over his mouth and nose. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tasha crying as she watched fearfully. He groaned as the paramedics hoisted the gurney to its full height and moved quickly from the house to the ambulance.

  He tried to talk but his mouth felt numb. Extreme fatigue pulled at his eyelids and he gave in—his last thought was of his wife’s smiling face.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  TASHA WAS IN THE WAITING room when her sisters burst through the E.R. entrance, both wild-eyed with concern as they rushed to her side. Nora was the first to speak.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I was outside and…I came in and found him by the side door. He was unconscious and his skin was gray. I called 9-1-1 and when the paramedics came they used the defibrillator on him.”

  “How long was he out?” Natalie asked.

  Tasha shook her head. “I don’t know. But he didn’t look very good. They managed to get a pulse, but I don’t think he regained consciousness.”

  “Are you okay?” Natalie asked, peering at Tasha.

  Tasha nodded, but Nora caught the subtle shaking of her hands. She stepped forward and surprised Tasha by drawing her into a fierce hug. “He’s going to be okay. No one is more stubborn than our dad,” she whispered into Tasha’s ear. “He’s going to whip this and go back to his ornery self. You’ll see.”

  Tasha held her sister for what seemed the longest moment until a doctor appeared in the doorway.

  “Are you the family of Gerald Simmons?”

  Tasha and Nora broke their embrace and all three sisters nodded.

  “Your father has suffered a massive heart attack. Has he been under a lot of stress?”

  “His wife, our mother, just died a few weeks ago,” Natalie answered for them. “He took it pretty hard.”

  The doctor nodded. “He’s going to need surgery to repair the damage. We’ll let you know how it goes as soon as we’re finished.”

  Natalie n
odded and sank into a chair. Tasha and Nora followed. This time it was Tasha who provided comfort. “Nora’s right. He’s going to come through this with flying colors. I truly believe that.”

  “Tasha,” Natalie said, her voice clogged with tears. “He’s not invincible. I knew he wasn’t taking good enough care of himself. I told him to stop eating those cookies but he refused to listen! Goddamn it!”

  Natalie’s rare show of anger was like a splash of cold water on Tasha’s face. She’d sensed her sister was taking on too much, and seeing her teeter on the edge of a breakdown brought out Tasha’s protective instincts.

  “Stop that,” she said, surprising both Nora and Natalie. “Don’t take this on. Dad’s health is his own business. None of us can be expected to hover over him like a mother hen.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’ve never stuck around,” Natalie said.

  Tasha drew back but forced herself not to take offense. “Nat, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you call Evan to come and get you—” Natalie started to protest. “It will be hours before we hear anything. I’ll call as soon as the doctor gives us any news.”

  Nora piped in. “Tasha is right. Nat, you look like shit. You’re no good to us if you collapse, too.”

  Natalie appeared wounded but nodded. “Fine. You promise to call the minute you hear anything?”

  “Absolutely,” Tasha promised.

  “All right.” Natalie rubbed her bloodshot eyes and went to call her husband.

  Nora leaned back in her chair and Tasha grimaced at the soft pop that followed.

  “Oh, I needed that,” Nora groaned. “Who needs a chiropractor when you’ve got a stiff-backed chair handy.”

  “I’m not a chiropractor but I can tell that’s really bad for your back,” she said. “It’s a bad habit to start, too.”

  “You can come out of big-sister mode,” Nora said dryly, and Tasha acknowledged her with a tired grin. God, she had sounded like a nagging older sister. Then Nora nudged her playfully with her shoulder, saying, “When I get old I’ll marry a chiropractor just so I can have someone around to put me back together.”

  “Like someone would marry you,” Tasha returned with a snort.

  Nora looked at her sharply until she realized Tasha was kidding. A wide, appreciative grin tilted the corners of her mouth. “Nice to see I’m not the only smart-ass in the family. I was beginning to think I was adopted.”

  Tasha grinned. “You were.”

  Despite the circumstances, Tasha allowed herself to relax a little. She hoped her father was in good hands. Hope was all she could do. Sighing, she turned to Nora.

  “Are you happy?”

  Nora did a double take. “What kind of question is that?”

  Tasha shrugged. “A difficult one?”

  “Of course it’s difficult. Who’s really happy nowadays?”

  “So you’re not?”

  Nora exhaled loudly with annoyance. “Jeez, sis, could you have picked a more inappropriate moment to go all ‘meaning of life’ on me?”

  Tasha chuckled. Nora was right. “Sorry. I just wondered.”

  “Well, stop wondering. I’m as freaking happy as the next girl out there who’s single, self-employed and the biggest pain in the ass to her father.”

  “Pain in the ass, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tasha smiled. “Good. Someone’s gotta to keep him on his toes.”

  An easy silence passed between them and Tasha realized she didn’t know her baby sister, but she suspected the woman wasn’t half bad.

  “You and Dad were close,” Nora remarked.

  The statement rocked Tasha out of her cocoon of private thoughts. She weighed her answer. Giving too much information would only lead to more questions, and frankly, she thought they’d all had enough excitement for the day.

  “Sure,” Tasha said carefully. “As close as he is with all his daughters.”

  Nora’s silence was telling. Tasha inhaled and offered a little more. “Well, you’re right. Once we were close, but not as close as Mom and me. Mom was special.”

  Unexpected tears pricked her eyes and Tasha rubbed them out with her palm. When she looked at Nora again, the dull light reflecting from Nora’s gray eyes saddened her.

  “I was always mad at Mom for being so…weak,” Nora admitted quietly. She looked to Tasha, waiting for recrimination, but when she sensed none she continued. “And Dad…he’s such a hard-ass that it seems I’m always pissed off at him.”

  “He is a hard-ass,” Tasha agreed, then swallowed the unpleasant taste in her mouth. “But he’s also loyal.”

  “He wasn’t to you, was he?”

  Tasha’s heart stopped. “Nora…my relationship with Dad is complicated,” she answered cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

  Nora sighed. “Forget it. Listen, are you going to hang out here? Because I’m pretty wiped.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll call you when I get news.”

  Nora did look tired, but Tasha sensed her disappointment. Sadness at being unable to share with Nora her past dampened the burgeoning closeness she’d felt between them.

  The urge to offer something to ease that look from Nora’s face had her opening her mouth, but Tasha controlled the impulse. She wouldn’t burden Nora. It was bad enough for Natalie. Besides, they all had enough on their plate.

  JOSH WALKED THROUGH the sliding double doors and immediately spied Tasha, sitting with her head in her hands, shoulders sagging. He didn’t hesitate, knowing only that she felt incredibly alone.

  She looked up just as he approached. Surprise melted into relief and she allowed him to gather her into his arms.

  Wrapping her tighter, he willed some of his strength into her, instinctively knowing she was hanging by a thread.

  As if remembering herself, Tasha pulled away first, her cheeks coloring. “How’d you know?” she asked.

  “Nora called. Said you might need someone.”

  Her smile weak, Tasha could only nod. “She was right. I told my sisters to go home. Figured only one of us needed to be here.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  Tasha’s bleak look went straight to his heart in a way that was entirely too powerful, and if it weren’t for Tasha’s forced attempt at keeping distance between them, he would’ve pulled her to his chest to stay. “The doctor hasn’t come back yet. You didn’t need to come. I’m fine.”

  “Tasha, there’s no need to put up a front for me. Okay? I know you better than most,” he said quietly. She didn’t disagree. “I’m here as long as you need me.”

  She swallowed and her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Thank you, Josh.”

  He took a seat beside her and they waited. After an hour, he felt Tasha lean against him in a subtle movement. Before long, her head lolled on his shoulder. She was asleep.

  Josh took a long moment gazing down at her. Her delicate profile took him back in time to when she used to lean into him in the darkened movie theater. Her head resting comfortably against his bicep as if the muscle of his arm was created for that purpose. He smothered the spark in his heart, ashamed at how much he craved her. He had no right trying to relive the past. His feelings were still tangled and bitter over his divorce. And he was still reeling from her revelation earlier. They’d had their moment—they were two very different people now.

  The doctor entered and Josh gently nudged Tasha. “Doc’s back, sweetheart,” he said, unable to resist the endearment.

  Tasha blinked and hastily rubbed at her eyes, fully alert and anxious. “My dad…how is he?”

  The doctor gave her a reassuring smile, though his words were grave. “Your father is a lucky man. By all accounts he should be dead. We were able to repair the damage with a triple bypass. He’s in recovery. Why don’t you go home and get some rest. You can see him in the morning.”

  Tasha nodded and the doctor left, but Josh could tell she really wanted to see her dad. Her concern was etched on her face. Josh put a hand on her shoulder and gently squeeze
d. “The doc’s right. Let me drive you to your hotel.”

  “That’s not necessary. I have my car,” she said, turning with a shy smile. “But thank you for coming. It meant a lot to have you here.”

  “There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said. “You sure you don’t want me to drive? You can always have your sisters bring your car back.”

  She looked tempted, and that slight hesitation made him want to insist, but in light of his new knowledge, he simply waited.

  “I don’t want to put my sisters out. They’re dealing with enough as it is. I don’t want them to feel like they’re my chauffeur.”

  He doubted they’d feel that way, but he wasn’t going to press it. It was enough that her feelings had been sincere the moment he came through the door. He walked her to the entrance. “Call me if you need anything.”

  She nodded but remained silent. There was a wall between them, and while he should’ve taken that as a sure sign to back off, it just made him ache all the more for the pain she was determined to face alone.

  Grinding his jaw with frustration at his inability to reach out to her in a way she would welcome, he watched as she walked out the door.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  TASHA ROSE EARLY THE NEXT morning, her head fuzzy from lack of true sleep, and quickly showered and dressed. She made phone calls to her sisters and then headed out.

  Grabbing a coffee at the Roasting Company, she drove the short distance to the hospital and went straight to her father’s room.

  He was awake and looked far better, despite the tubes winding in and out of his body, and relief made her eyes water.

  “Don’t start the waterworks,” her father’s gruff voice said as she came to the side of his bed. “If people would stop poking and prodding at me I’d be just fine.”

  Tasha smiled through her tears. “I bet your nurses are drawing straws to see who puts the pillow over your face when you sleep.”

  Gerald tried to chuckle, but he winced and stiffened. “Well, I’m ready to get out of here. Hospitals are for sick people,” he groused.