by Andre, Bella
Sara frowned. "I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but it's not up to Vicky. You're the one who's being impacted by the rumors. Your career has been tainted, and it's just wrong. Your job is important to you, and if you want to continue smokejumping or move into some other area of firefighting, then you should be able to do it with a clean slate. I don't think Kyle would want you to suffer for his mistake. He was your best friend."
"I can see why you're a good lawyer. You're very persuasive."
"And I hate injustice. Promise me, you'll at least think about it."
"I will think about it," he said. "Now it's your turn."
"I'm not ready to see my dad," she said quickly.
"Then get ready, because you're supposed to be on a plane tomorrow." As he said the words, he felt his gut clench at the thought of saying goodbye to her.
He didn't usually have trouble with goodbyes. They were always accompanied by feelings of relief and enthusiasm for moving on. But watching Sara fly away was not something he was looking forward to doing. "Unless you want to postpone your return to New York?"
She stared back at him. "Why would I want to do that?"
He could read between the lines of that question, but what reason could he give her to stay? He was still reeling from what he'd learned about Kyle. He didn't know what he was going to do with his life, where he was going to live or work. How could he suggest that she give up the life she'd built when he had nothing to offer in return?
"Never mind," she said.
He sent her a silent plea for understanding. "It's been a rough day."
"You're right. It's been an emotional time for both of us. It's also been great. I had a wonderful time with you, Aiden. It was my fantasy come true," she said, her eyes watering a little.
"Sara –"
"No, let me finish. I have loved you since I was fourteen years old. But you have never felt the same way about me, and that's all right." She forced a smile on her face. "We had fun—a lot of fun, and I told you that I wasn't looking for promises. I meant what I said. I wanted to be with you, and it was amazing. And now it's over."
"Sara," he started again.
She put her fingers over his mouth. "I don't want you to say anything – except goodbye. That's all that's left."
"That's not all that's left between us."
"Yes, it is. This time it's my decision, Aiden. Not yours. Now, if you'll drive me back to my father's house, I will get the photos, I will confront him, and then I will go back to New York where I belong."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sara didn't say a word during the drive across town. Aiden glanced at her every now and then, looking as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he stayed silent. She was relieved. It took every bit of strength she had to stay strong, because despite her words she was in deep physical and emotional pain. She hadn't just had fun with Aiden, she'd fallen in love with him again. In fact, she'd never stopped loving him, which was probably why she'd never been able to really love any of the other men she'd dated. He'd always been the standard against which all other men were measured.
But Aiden didn't love her. He liked her. He found her desirable. But that wasn't love, and she couldn't settle for anything less, not from him. She was in too deep to be casual.
When he parked the truck in front of his house, she took her bag, looked him straight in the eye and said, "Goodbye Aiden."
He stared back at her, his blue eyes filled with dark shadows.
She waited for him to say goodbye back, but in the end, the tense silence was too much to bear, so she turned and walked away. She wondered if he'd call her back. He didn't.
She entered the house, set down her suitcase and let out a breath. Tears blurred her eyes, but she wasn't going to let herself cry, not yet anyway. She had to see her father. She had to confront him, and then her time in San Francisco would be over.
She went upstairs. The photos were on her bed where she'd left them. She picked up the picture taken at the park. Staring at the face of her big brother felt strange and awkward, but she could see her father in this child's face. She'd always looked like her mother.
Wishing again that her mother or her grandparents were still alive to answer questions only reminded her that they'd had years to share the truth with her, and they never had. She'd talked to her mother right before her death and what had she said?
Take care of your father, Sara. He needs you more than you'll ever understand.
Why hadn't her mother taken that moment to explain why her father needed her, because it certainly wasn't apparent? And why hadn't she taken that chance to tell her about the brother she'd never known and the family unit she'd never been a part of?
Had her father begged her mom to remain silent?
She must have kept the secret because of him.
That secret now made her feel less close to her mom, made her question if there were other things she didn't know.
It was time to face her dad. Gathering the photos together into a neat stack, she put them in her bag, grabbed her car keys and left the house. As she crossed the lawn, she took a quick glance at the Callaway house. Aiden's truck was parked out front, and there were two other cars in the driveway. She could see shadowy figures in the kitchen. She wondered if Aiden would do as she suggested and come clean with his family. It was certainly a risk. Burke and Jack might not be willing to keep quiet. They would want to defend Aiden, just as she did. Not that anyone wanted to hurt Kyle's memory, but no one wanted to protect Kyle at Aiden's expense.
Unfortunately, it wasn't up to her. Aiden would make his own decisions. And she had other things to worry about.
"Here I come, Dad," she muttered. "Ready or not."
***
It was almost seven when Aiden made his way into the main house. He hadn't expected to find half of his family seated around the kitchen table on a Tuesday night. Not only were Jack and Lynda there, but Burke, Emma, Nicole, and his grandfather were also present. At first he thought the worried, strained expressions were about him, but that didn't ring quite true.
"What's going on?" he asked.
His grandfather, Patrick Callaway, gave him a pained look. "I was just telling the family that I took your grandmother to the doctor today, and they've admitted her to the hospital. They think she has Alzheimer's."
The diagnosis wasn't a total shock after what Aiden had witnessed the day before, but it hurt just the same. He'd been through such an emotional storm the last few hours, he wasn't quite ready for another. "I'm sorry. How long will she be there? I'd like to go see her."
"We're all going over in a bit," Lynda told him.
"As for how long," his grandfather said. "They don't know yet. They don't know whether she'll even be able to come…" His voice cracked. "They don't know yet," he repeated, as if he couldn't bear to look further down the road. He got to his feet. "I need to get back. I don't want her to wake up and not see anyone she recognizes."
"I'll walk you out," Jack said, accompanying his father out of the room.
As they left, Lynda, Burke, Emma and Nicole turned their questioning eyes on him.
"Where have you been?" Emma asked, breaking the silence first.
"Why don't you ever return calls?" Burke demanded.
"Let him talk," Lynda interrupted.
"Are you all right?" Nicole asked.
"And where's Sara?' Emma said.
He put up a hand to slow down the questions. "First, I didn't return your calls, because I needed to figure some things out. Second, Sara is fine. She's at her house now, and then she's headed to the hospital to speak to her dad. Third, I've discovered some new information."
Sara's plea to tell the truth had been going around and around in his head. Kyle had gone to great pains to keep his problem private, but Aiden didn't want to lie to his family. He'd seen the pain on Vicky's face when she'd realized her husband had been keeping his illness from her. And he'd seen the devastation in Sara's eyes when she'd realized her pa
rents had kept something monumentally big away from her. The Callaways had always valued honesty. It was a code they lived by, and he didn't want to be the one to break that code.
"Aiden," Lynda said gently. "Whatever it is, you can tell us."
"I know. But what I have to tell you can't leave this room. And I'm not sure that's fair to ask."
"Of course it is," Emma said. "We'll put it in the Callaway vault."
"Just say what you have to say," Burke said.
He looked into his older brother's eyes, knowing that he was probably the one most likely to understand the position Kyle had been in. "Kyle had an illness that he didn't want anyone to know about. It wasn't life threatening, but it was quite possibly career-ending. Unfortunately, his problem played a part in his death in a way that I'm sure he didn't expect. Vicky asked me to keep his secret, to protect his name. She wants her son's father to be a hero."
"You can't do that," Burke said immediately. "You're putting your career on the line, Aiden. I understand that you want to protect Kyle and his family, but you have to think of your future."
Burke had always been practical, able to cut emotion out of a decision, but it didn't seem nearly as cut and dried to Aiden.
"Kyle wouldn't want you to suffer for what he did," Nicole said quietly. "You have to know that, Aiden."
"It sounds like he kept a secret to protect his job. But as sad as it is, that's not an issue anymore," Emma said. "You have to tell the people he worked with."
"You owe them that," Burke added. "If Kyle's illness was career threatening and it played into his death, then he jeopardized everyone on his team by hiding it. This isn't just about clearing your name, Aiden. Your fellow firefighters need to know the truth, because you're not the only one blaming yourself. I guarantee each and every one of them is asking themselves if they could have done something differently." He paused. "But you already know that, Aiden."
He did know what he needed to do, but Burke's impassioned speech had solidified his decision. He couldn't let anyone else carry the guilt of Kyle's death, not when he knew what had really happened.
"Burke is right," Emma put in. "Everyone who knew Kyle is hurting, and one of the reasons you got the blame, was because they needed to point the finger at someone else besides themselves."
"Listen to your sister, she's smart," Burke said.
Emma smiled. "About time one of you big lugs figured that out."
"Hopefully you're being smart when it comes to your own job," Burke added.
Emma's smile faded. "Of course. Has someone said differently?"
"No, but I know you, and these latest fires are hitting a little too close to home. I heard that Sister Margaret is missing, and her disappearance is suspicious, which might mean that your firebug may have jumped from arson to murder."
"God, I hope not," Emma said. "At least you aren't suggesting that Sister Margaret had something to do with the fire at St. Andrew's like that annoying Inspector Harrison."
"Just be careful."
"I am being careful. I really hope that Sister Margaret is okay and that her disappearance is not connected to the fire, but if it is, that's only going to make me more determined to track this firebug down. You don't need to worry about me, Burke. I can take care of myself."
"I don't know why I try to help any of you," Burke muttered as he stood up. "You're all so damned stubborn and always think you're right."
"Just like you," Emma retorted. "It's the Callaway way."
"I'll see you guys at the hospital later," Burke said. "I have a few things to do first."
As Burke left, Nicole also rose. "I won't get to the hospital tonight, but I'll see Grandma tomorrow." She smiled at Aiden. "Ryan said you came by the other night and played with Brandon. I appreciate that."
"He's my nephew. I plan to spend a lot more time with him in the future."
"Good. He needs as much help as he can get."
"Don't be afraid to ask for help yourself, Nicole," he said. "I'm here."
"For how long?" she asked.
"I don't know, but whatever I do, wherever I go, I plan to stay in better touch."
Nicole gave him a quick hug. When she left the kitchen, it was just Emma and him. He could see she was itching to ask him a question, and he had a feeling he knew who that question would be about.
"So what's up with you and Sara?" Emma asked. "Is my friend still in one piece?"
"Sara is fine. She's an amazing woman."
"I know that. I've always known that. It's about time you realized it." Emma paused, tilting her head to one side. "Why did you guys run off without a word? I can't believe it was just to hook up away from here. It was too sudden. Something happened.
"You need to ask Sara that question."
Emma frowned. "Why all the secret-keeping, Aiden?"
"Because they're not my secrets to tell. Maybe give Sara a day before you grill her."
"Do I have a day? When is Sara going back to New York?"
"She's supposed to leave tomorrow," he answered, feeling the same stabbing sense of loss that he'd felt earlier that day.
"And you'll just let her go?" Emma queried. "When are you going to realize that you're in love with her, Aiden?"
Emma's words struck home, words he hadn't allowed himself to speak out loud, much less to anyone else. But he didn't do love—did he?
Emma got up from her chair and crossed the room, stopping right in front of him. He towered over her small frame, but he could still feel the force of her personality.
"Sara is my friend," she said. "And I know you hurt her when we were teenagers. She never gave me the details, but she had this crazy crush on you, and while I couldn't imagine why that was, she seemed to have really strong feelings for you. Something tells me you haven't discouraged those feelings on this trip. If you care for her at all, Aiden, you need to be up front with her."
"I've always been up front with her. I'm not a relationship guy."
"Aren't you? You care more about your family and friends than most of the guys I know. Those are relationships, too."
"That's different."
"That's true. But you have a tremendous capacity for love, and I hate to see it going to waste. I also do not want to see two people who are perfect for each other giving up without a fight. You have to be the one who goes all in first, Aiden," Emma added. "You owe her that. You broke her heart once. She's not going to be able to put herself out there for you."
Emma was right. It was his turn.
"Don't you dare let her leave without telling her how you really feel," Emma continued.
"This really isn't your business," he said.
"You're my brother, and Sara is my friend. This is totally my business," Emma snapped. "I know you like to play the bachelor, but you have a woman who is worth a long-term commitment, and if you let her go, you are out of your mind. You will not find anyone better than Sara."
***
Sara walked into her father's hospital room feeling strangely calm and oddly confident. For the first time in her entire life, she felt like they were equals. In fact, to be honest, she felt like she was better than him. He couldn't intimidate her any more. He couldn't manipulate her by withholding love. She no longer cared what he thought about her. She only cared about the truth.
He set down the newspaper, his expression growing wary as she approached.
"I thought you'd gone home," he said.
"I was going to, but before I left I wanted to go through the box I found in the basement a few days ago – the one you were probably trying to get when you ran down the stairs and broke your leg."
Her father's face paled, and his lips tightened. "You had no business going through my personal things."
She ignored his protest. "I was touched at first that you'd kept photos of me, even if you had stored them in the basement. But then I realized that most of the pictures were not of me, but of someone else, a baby I didn't recognize, a toddler I'd never seen before. What was even
more odd was that he had your name and your eyes and even your smile. The smile was actually unfamiliar to me, as you never looked at me like that, but after more intense scrutiny I came to the conclusion that it was actually you in the pictures."
"Sara, stop."
At one time the forceful determination in his eyes would have scared her into quiet, but not today. "I'm not going to stop, not until we're done. You and Mom had a baby, a boy, my brother." She took the pictures of her bag, dropping them in a pile on the bed.
Her father glanced away.
"Look at him," she demanded. "Look at Stephen Davidson, Jr., and tell me why you kept his life a secret from me."
Her father finally turned his head. He stared down at the photos and then lifted his gaze to meet Sara's. There was no longer anger in his eyes but agony. The raw pain shocked her, but she was also infuriated that almost thirty years later he could have so much emotion for a son he'd only shared four and a half years with and yet feel nothing for her.
"He died," her father said finally.
Two short words that meant so much.
"Why did you keep his life a secret?"
"Because he died."
She stared at him for a long minute. "You have to tell me more. I need more."
For a moment there was a battle of silent will.
Finally, he continued. "We were living in Portola Valley at the time. I was planting a bush in the front yard. I accidentally left the front door unlatched when I went outside. I didn’t realize that Stephen had come into the yard until I heard a squeal of brakes and saw my son –" His voice shook with pain. "My son was on the ground."
She put a hand to her mouth, wanting to tell him to stop now. She'd heard enough.
But the dam had been opened. The rush of words continued.
"I ran to him. I could hear your mother screaming behind me. Stephen wasn't breathing. I tried to revive him. I blew into his mouth. But he was so limp in my arms. I could hear the fire engines coming. I prayed they would be in time. I kept telling my boy to hang on, that help was on the way. But it was too late. It had always been too late. He was killed on impact."
