Ashley held up the original. “She sketched hers from this. The drawing my husband did for me eleven years ago.” She saw it then. Saw the familiarity behind the glass and wire of his spectacles. She remembered his whistling the same ragtime tune Ethan had loved.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t know how it can be that you’re my husband and I didn’t even recognize you.”
“He’s not my daddy!” Natalie cried from behind her. “He’s Mr. Carson. My daddy died.”
Ashley whirled around and saw the look of disbelief on her daughter’s face. “Natalie, I . . .”
“No!” Natalie screamed, then ran from the room.
Ashley started to go after her but stopped. If she left now, she’d still have no answers for the child. Her heart pounded as she turned to face the truth. Leaning heavily against the open door, Ashley braced herself.
“Ethan,” she breathed his name. “Please tell me how this can possibly be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
E. J. wanted nothing more than to go to his wife and embrace her. He wanted to tenderly hold her, to kiss her and breathe the scent of her hair. Instead, he calmly went to the door and gently took hold of her hand and led her to a chair. He returned to the door and closed it before pulling up a chair in front of her.
“I’ve only known a short time myself,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Your mother told me you were dead.”
“I know.”
She spoke the words so softly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them or imagined them. E. J. drew a deep breath. “I was nearly killed in France. An explosion left my face hopelessly mangled, and I suffered several other injuries. They took me to the nearest hospital, where I lost consciousness. When I awoke, my face was completely bandaged, even my eyes. I was terrified. I thought I’d died and this was some sort of eternal holding place. I thought maybe all that stuff I’d been told about God was wrong. See, I’d learned to pray and to trust God during the war, but now I wasn’t so sure.”
Ashley said nothing. She stared at him as though he were a ghost. Her pale face only served to remind him that while he’d known for some time that she was his wife, Ashley was just now coming to understand that her husband was alive. After eleven years, it had to be more than she’d ever imagined having to deal with.
E. J. leaned forward. “I had to endure several surgeries; that’s why I don’t look very much like the man you knew me to be. The ordeal left me badly scarred, but at least I could grow a beard to hide most of it.
“After the surgeries, I fought infections. They thought for sure I’d die, but I kept thinking of how I would come home and find you waiting and everything would be all right. I learned the war had ended, but I was still so sick. They nursed me back to reasonable health, then shipped me back to Baltimore. I hadn’t been back in the country long before I came down with influenza. Men throughout my ward died, but I kept fighting it—thinking of you—knowing I had to recover. I tried to get in touch with you. I had a couple of different people offer to take you a message, but they were unable to locate you. I figured you’d moved. I thought maybe you’d even gone back to your mother and father’s house, but I couldn’t really believe that you would.”
“I’d moved to Los Angeles and then to Winslow, with Grandpa,” Ashley explained. “I’d received word that you were dead.” Her eyes filled with tears. “They told me you were dead. The army said you died in battle—that you were a hero.”
She sounded desperate, almost as if she needed him to believe her. He did.
E. J. nodded. “I know. I figured that part out.”
“I was going to have a baby and my mother was trying to force me to remarry. She didn’t know about Natalie—just as you didn’t know.”
“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “When I finally recovered and was released from the hospital, I went to your parents’ house.”
“Yes, I know.” She seemed to regain a bit of strength. “Mother blurted out a confession the other night. See, I hadn’t seen or talked to her since leaving Baltimore. She’d disowned me—told me to never try to communicate with her or Father. She came here for Grandpa—he wanted to see her again. Then in the middle of one of her tirades, she just spilled out the truth. She told me she had seen you after the war, that you were alive.” Tears flooded Ashley’s eyes. “I wanted to die and shout for joy all at the same time.”
E. J. knew exactly how she felt. “When I first met you on the street, that day Natalie introduced us, I was sure there had to be some mistake. But there you were, looking so much like you did all those years ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something then?”
“I couldn’t. I . . . well . . . you have to understand, Ashley, I’m not the same man you married.”
“What do you mean? You’re Ethan Reynolds, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I changed my name to avoid dealing with the hero status they were awarding me. People were hounding me. Veterans’ groups wanted to hear me speak of defeating the Germans. Ladies’ clubs wanted to have me as the guest of honor at their teas. I couldn’t handle it. I felt so ashamed of who I’d become in the war. You have no idea of the things I did.” He fell silent and looked at the floor as if for answers. “I killed men—boys, really. I killed them even when I didn’t have to.”
“You were a soldier. You did your duty.” Her words were calm and gentle.
“Yes, maybe,” he said, still unable to look her in the eye. “But I did it too well.”
“I still don’t understand why that would delay you in telling me who you were.”
E. J. looked up. “Ashley, up until a short time ago, I could hardly stand admitting to myself what the past had done to me—what I’d done to myself. Every night I still have nightmares. The torment and demonic visions that come to me in my dreams are more than I could ever subject anyone to—much less you.”
“But that choice should be mine,” she said, meeting his gaze. She searched his face, as if to find some scrap of evidence that he was who she knew him to be.
Finally she asked, “How did you come to be in Winslow?”
“After your mother told me you were dead, I didn’t care what happened to me. I drifted for a time. I had no desire to live. My parents had died from the influenza as well and I had no home—no one.”
“I’m so sorry. If I’d only stayed in Baltimore,” Ashley said, looking past him to the wall. “But it was so awful. I was so alone. Mother had disowned me and I was going to have a baby.”
“No, don’t blame yourself. You did the right thing,” E. J. said, reaching forward to take hold of her hand. “You had to think of yourself and Natalie. You thought I was dead. There was no reason to stay in Baltimore and wait around.”
“I know, but I just keep thinking of all those wasted years. It was so hard.” She didn’t seem to notice that he continued to hold her hand. Instead she appeared lost in her memory. “I wanted to die. I wanted to join you wherever you were. I couldn’t bear the idea of your being dead. Natalie was the only one to give me a reason to go on. Grandpa tried, but he just couldn’t understand. Natalie was a part of you, and in a way, I guess that’s why she strengthened me and gave me hope.”
Ashley returned her gaze to E. J. “She’s everything to me, and now with Grandpa gone . . .”
“Grandpa died?”
She nodded. “Just this afternoon. That’s why Natalie was coming here. She wanted to tell you about him. But I found the picture and knew . . . the truth. I didn’t even consider that she might overhear us talking.”
E. J. squeezed her hand. “I had planned to tell you the day we went to the meteorite crater. I had a speech all prepared, and then your friends joined us and I couldn’t tell you. I even thought about telling you on the drive home, but I worried that Natalie might wake up and overhear us.”
Ashley shook her head. “I’ve spent the last few days since Mother told me about you wondering how in the world I’d ever find you again. I
worried that you would have remarried and that in finding you I would completely ruin your life. I didn’t tell Natalie because I was even afraid you might have died sometime after Mother saw you. I didn’t want Natalie to lose her father all over again. She adores you.”
“She adores Ethan Reynolds.”
“But you are Ethan Reynolds,” Ashley said firmly. “No matter what you did in the war and no matter what has happened since, you’re Ethan Reynolds . . . my husband.” She pulled away from him and put her hands to her cheeks and exhaled loudly. “What do we do now?”
****
The question rang over and over through Ashley’s mind. What do we do now? Her thoughts were so jumbled—so disjointed. Ethan is alive, but Ethan is E. J. Carson. My husband is alive, but he’s not really my husband at all. We knew each other only a brief time and then he was gone. We have a child. Oh, Natalie, where have you gone off to?
“I have to find Natalie.” Ashley jumped up. “I have to try to explain this to her.”
E. J. got to his feet as well. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, she’s too upset. I need to talk to her alone—to try to explain.”
But how could she rationally explain any of this to a ten-year-old girl when she could hardly begin to comprehend it herself?
“I want to help,” E. J. said. “Is there anything I can do?”
Ashley shook her head. “I can’t think of anything—though of course you could pray.”
He looked at her with such a mix of compassion and sorrow. Ashley regretted leaving him alone just now, but she couldn’t subject Natalie to even more pain. It was clear the shock had been too much for her to handle.
“I’ll let you know . . . we can . . .” She fell silent. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Ashley hurried from the room and made her way outside. It was already growing dark and the chill of the night was upon them. The desert could get so cold at night—so very cold. Ashley felt the urge to run all the way home but fought it. She needed the time to pray and collect her thoughts. What was she going to say to her child? How was she ever going to make Natalie understand?
Making her way inside the house, Ashley found it strangely quiet. A note had been left by Lavelle. Picking it up from the dining room table, Ashley read, We’ve gone with the pastor to the funeral home.
Ashley breathed a sigh of relief. At least it would give her time to deal with Natalie alone. “Natalie!” she called as she went upstairs. She fully expected to find her daughter stretched out across her bed, crying her heart out.
“Natalie, hon,” Ashley said, turning on the light. She wasn’t there. The bed was still made and the green- and plum-colored dresses were laid across the end just as Ashley had left them.
She searched the rest of the upstairs, but Natalie was nowhere to be found. Flying down the stairs, Ashley searched through the rest of the house. She went to Grandpa’s room first, thinking that Natalie might have found it comforting. The sight of the empty bed only served to make Ashley feel alone.
“Oh, Grandpa. If only you were still here.”
Ashley thought of Penny and how much Natalie loved the pony. That had to be the answer. Natalie was with Penny. Ashley hurried through the house and out the back door. The screen slammed hard behind her as Ashley called out in the growing darkness.
“Natalie! Natalie, where are you?”
She went to Penny’s little corral, but the pony was gone. Searching the stall, Ashley realized the saddle and bridle were also missing. Natalie had taken Penny and ridden off. But to where?
Ashley’s heart filled with dread. She thought of all of Natalie’s favorite places. Where would she go to hide out and deal with this news? She had her friends and might have gone to see one of them, Ashley thought, but even as the idea came, Ashley dismissed it. Natalie would want to be completely alone.
Surely she wouldn’t head out away from town. Ashley looked past the yard off toward the open desert. Night was upon them and the desert was no place to play. Would Natalie be so foolish as to venture beyond the safety of town?
“Oh, God, help me. I don’t know where she’s gone. I don’t know how to find her.” Ashley blinked back tears. “She’s everything to me, Father. Please don’t take her too.”
Ashley went back into the house. She had to get help, and Ethan was the only logical one to ask. How could she possibly explain the situation to anyone else? She pulled her sweater out of the closet and was just putting it on when her mother and Lavelle came through the door.
“Where are you off to at a time like this? In fact, where did you disappear to earlier?” her mother questioned.
“I have to find Natalie. She’s taken the pony, and I don’t know where she’s gone,” Ashley said, picking her words carefully. She wasn’t about to tell her mother about the encounter with Ethan. At least not yet.
“That child runs positively wild. I would give her a sound spanking when she gets home,” Leticia said sternly. “You’ve obviously raised her with little or no discipline.”
“Letty, that isn’t kind,” Lavelle scolded. “Today has been very hard on Ashley and Natalie. No doubt Natalie has been saddened by her grandfather’s death and has gone off to grieve.” Lavelle looked to Ashley as if for confirmation.
“Yes,” Ashley said. “She was very upset.” That much was true.
“She is an inconsiderate, undisciplined child to put us through such a scene,” Ashley’s mother said, refusing to back down.
Ashley thought of reminding her mother that she was no longer welcome here, but she bit back the retort and instead moved to the door. “If Natalie comes home, please tell her I’ll be right back.”
“You should just wait here. She’ll get tired of being alone and return. Then you can punish her properly. It might not yet be too late to instill some discipline. I’m sure my father spoiled her beyond belief, and with you off working at that Harvey place . . . well, the child has no doubt had to raise herself.”
Ashley opened the door, forcing herself to remain silent. It would serve no purpose to explain herself or her life. Natalie was out there somewhere and the night was coming.
* * *
Lavelle turned to her sister. “You shouldn’t be so critical of Ashley. She’s done a wonderful job raising Natalie. The child is positively perfect.”
“A perfect child wouldn’t run about without consideration for her elders,” Leticia replied.
Lavelle shook her head. “Letty, you have a beautiful daughter and an equally beautiful grandchild. You’ve pushed them away most of your life. If you aren’t careful, you’ll lose all opportunity to draw them close again. Because sooner or later, you’re going to push hard enough that they won’t come back.”
Leticia’s expression softened more than Lavelle had expected. “That happened a decade ago. Ashley will never forgive me.”
It was the first time Lavelle had ever heard Leticia speak of needing her daughter’s forgiveness. “Perhaps if she knew you desired to be forgiven, it might change things.” Lavelle smiled ever so slightly. “Perhaps if you each knew how sorry you were for the lost years—for the mistakes.”
Leticia shook her head and gathered up her things. “I won’t make myself vulnerable in that fashion. Apologies are for weaklings.” She stormed off for the stairs, not waiting for Lavelle’s reply.
Lavelle watched until her sister had disappeared. She heard the bedroom door close upstairs and sighed. The day had been a defeating blow for Letty. Lavelle felt sorry for her. She had learned her fortune was in jeopardy—their father had died—and the lawyer had reminded them both in no uncertain terms that the estate of their father was forever set. Lavelle felt a bittersweet relief, whereas she knew Letty felt only fear.
“God, please help her,” Lavelle prayed. “She’s so very lost and alone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
E. J. could barely gather up the strength to go back to his hotel room. The work was finished; they were right on schedule and so f
ar the problems had all been minimal—at least all his work problems had been minimal. E. J. sat at his desk, cradling his bearded chin, gazing at the chair in the same room where his wife had recently sat. How strange life had twisted this time. Up until a few weeks ago he’d thought his life would be spent alone with his images from the past. He hadn’t believed it possible to get past the war and what he’d done, but now he felt God had helped him to renew his hope. Even Ashley didn’t condemn him for what he’d done.
“Can I really let go, Lord? Can I let go of the past and be a better man?” he whispered. E. J. wanted desperately to believe he could. He loved Ashley—he’d never stopped. If it wouldn’t have been inappropriate, he would have swept her off her feet and kissed her soundly. But she doesn’t know me, E. J. realized. She knows only the young man I was before I went away to war.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do, Lord. I don’t know how to help. Natalie brought my attention back to you, but for what? How do I make this right? How can we be a family? How do I go back to being Ethan Reynolds?”
Without warning, the door flew open, slamming against the wall with a reverberating crash. Ashley came into the room like a speeding freight train. “She’s gone.”
“What?” He got to his feet. “Who’s gone?”
“Natalie. She’s gone.” The look on Ashley’s face was one of pure panic.
E. J. didn’t think the situation so distressful. “She’s probably just thinking things over. You know, just walking around town.”
Ashley looked at him as though he hadn’t a clue of the seriousness of the matter. And the truth was, he didn’t—and it made him feel foolish for his comment.
“She’s ten years old, Ethan. She has no business wandering around town or elsewhere at this hour,” Ashley replied indignantly. “Besides, her pony’s gone, and that can only mean that Natalie’s on horseback trying to get away from all of this. That means she’s planned more than just a short walk around town. We have to find her, Ethan.” She burst into tears. “You have to help me.”
[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years Page 22
