The Rose Ring

by Lucie Ulrich

  Carl served us hot chocolate, we’d talk a bit, then Micah would drive me home. I usually didn’t see him again until sometime after the new year.” For all her thinking she knew the man so well, it now appeared she didn’t know him at all.

  “Maybe I’m wrong, then.” He turned away from her and weaved his way through the furniture.

  “Where are you going?”

  He motioned with his head. “I want to see something.”

  Sky followed him to the backside of the armoire. Pushed against the far wall was a padded chest with the same needlepoint design as the vanity chair. It was made of the same shade of cherry and obviously part of the set. She envisioned a white wedding gown and veil stored inside, along with a christening gown and whatever other treasures a bride and mother would keep.

  Noah lifted the top, and Sky’s heart clenched. She dropped to her knees and ran her hand over the tops of at least a dozen gift-wrapped packages. The paper had faded and the tape peeled away in a few spots. Her voice caught. “Micah’s?”

  He knelt next to her. “Yes. Sam wanted to give them away when Micah refused to open them, but Annie talked him into storing them. She figured he’d want them eventually. They’ve been in here for the last eighteen years.”

  She flicked away a tear. “Will you tell me about that night?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Noah offered his hand and helped Sky to her feet. He pointed to an old iron bed across from the attic window. “Let’s sit.” She did, and he sat a few feet to her right. “Has Micah ever mentioned anything about that night?”

  “No, but I never asked either. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know, but whenever the subject of your parent’s death came up, Micah became evasive, withdrawn even. I figured if he wanted to talk he would. He just never did.”

  “And you never asked Carl? Never heard stories around town?”

  “By the time I moved here, your folks had been gone for a lot of years. I didn’t even find out about you until recently.” She shrugged. “Micah is pretty private about his past. I wouldn’t be asking now, except…”

  “You have every right to ask. Granted, Micah should be the one to tell you, but I’m not sure he can. So, as the dutiful brother-in-law, I’m going to butt in and tell you what you need to know.”

  She shook her head. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t. Things are tense enough between the two of you. I don’t want to be the cause of any more problems.”

  The thought of her allowing someone their privacy to that extent amazed him. Had the situation involved someone he knew, he might not have asked, but he’d have hunted out the answers on his own, or more likely hired a private detective to do the digging for him. Without meaning to, she put him to shame. He stood, feeling the need to distance himself.

  Noah headed for the small octagonal window a few steps away. Dust motes played in the sun that cascaded from the window to the ground. This was going to be tougher than he’d envisioned. He turned to look at her. “No, this needs to be said, as much for me as for you.”

  She smiled. “The way your hair’s lit up, you look like one of those old paintings of Saint Somebody or other. You know, the kind with a halo floating over their head. Or better yet, an angel.”

  Saint? Angel? He was anything but. He uttered a hollow laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Aw, now you’ve gone and shattered the halo.”

  He stepped out of the light. “More fitting that way.”

  She tilted her head, and her smile melted away. “Seriously, Noah, we don’t have to talk about this.”

  “Please don’t give me an out. I need this as much as you do.”

  “In that case, take all the time you need.” She leaned against the headboard and pulled her legs up, tucking them under her.

  He paced in front of the window, shifting between sunlight and shadow. It had been easy to tell Micah they should forget the past, quite another matter to believe it himself. He leaned against the rough boards next to the window. The sun’s rays reached the bed, bathing Sky in soft morning light. Now who looked like an angel?

  “You’re staring, Noah.”

  “Sorry.” He pushed himself from the wall and moved back to the bed. He sat close to the footboard, feet on the ground and hands in his lap. “The weeks leading up to the Christmas my parents died weren’t good ones. I was twelve and Micah seven. We’d had a series of blizzards and getting feed out to the cattle had been next to impossible. Sam barked out orders and worked everybody to the point of exhaustion. Things were tense, but all Micah could think about was the sled he’d asked Santa for.”

  “Sounds about right for a seven year old.”

  “It was, but he nearly drove everybody crazy with it. He was oblivious to everything going on around him.” Noah paused and took a deep breath. If only he’d been oblivious as well.

  The springs on the bed squeaked as Sky adjusted her position. “I get the feeling you’re leaving something out.”

  “No.” He managed a smile. “Just stalling.” He stood and walked back to the window, keeping his back to her. For years he’d tried to put the past behind him, and for a while he’d succeeded. But being forced to come home and face his ghosts caused him to think and see things differently. “It wasn’t just the storm or the cattle, or even Micah. Mom and Dad were having trouble. In twelve years, I’d never known them to fight about anything.” Turning, he brought her back into focus. “Despite Sam’s ornery demeanor, my parents managed to keep things relatively calm around here. But the three weeks leading up to Christmas were anything but.”

  “What were they fighting about?”

  “Me.”

  Her eyes widened. “You?”

  Twenty years later, and he still couldn’t put his finger on the reason his mother had treated him and his brother so differently. A knot formed in the pit of his belly and his shoulders tensed. He inhaled a deep, slow breath — one he’d perfected after many years of practice to ease the unwanted tension — then let it out. “I don’t know what happened to bring about the change those last weeks, but all of my life I felt less than loved and less important than Micah. It’s the only excuse I can give for the way I reacted.”

  Sky unfolded her legs and stepped off the bed. She came to his side. “And just how did you react?”

  “Not well, I’m afraid.” He pressed his back against the window and closed his eyes. The tear-streaked face of his little brother filled his mind. He’d seen it in his dreams and when he was awake. Would it ever go away?

  The angel touched his arm. “What happened, Noah?”

  He opened his eyes and faced her. The look of compassion on her face made his throat constrict. He almost hated her at the moment. He’d asked her not to give him an out, and she hadn’t. “I blamed a seven-year-old kid for the death of our parents and didn’t let him forget about it for a long time.” He choked back a sob. “What kind of person does that?”

  “Another kid.”

  Tension seeped out by way of unexpected laughter. Sky’s quick, sincere reply released something he’d been holding onto for years. Though short-lived, it gave him the encouragement he needed to go on. He paced toward the bed, but didn’t sit. “The snow had been relentless that day. Mom grabbed the truck keys and decided to drive to the neighbor’s to pick up Micah’s sled. Even in a place this big, Micah would have found it. There wasn’t a hiding place he hadn’t already explored. He was like a mini-Sherlock Holmes.”

  Sky laughed. “Makes me wish I’d known him as a kid.”

  Noah looked at the floor. Memories of his hyperactive, fun-loving, mischief-making brother filled his head. Their parent’s death had taken that away from him. No, he’d taken that away from him. All the years of pretending he had a right to be angry tightened his chest. He placed a hand over the pain and fought back tears. He needed to finish the story. “Micah was a good kid—spoiled, but that wasn’t his fault.“

  “And you resented the attention he got.” Sky
came his way and stood directly in front of him. “I can understand that.” She sat on the bed and looked up at him. “Tell me what happened next.”

  He nodded, glad she wouldn’t let him wallow in self-pity. “Dad nearly had a fit. He told her there was no way he was letting her drive in that kind of weather. But Mom was one stubborn woman, and she had no intention of ruining Christmas for her little boy.” Noah took in a deep breath and dropped onto the bed next to her. “Dad grabbed the keys from her and said he’d go, but she insisted on going too. They stared at each other without speaking. When Dad finally headed outside, Mom followed. It was the last time I saw either of them alive.” He shook his head. “All because of a stupid sled.”

  “I’m so sorry, Noah.”

  With a gentle touch, Sky placed her hand on his. The action was short lived, the effect profound. He understood her reluctance to hold the connection. They both knew the only thing between them was friendship, but would his brother see that, should he walk in on them? Probably not.

  Noah cleared his throat. “It happened on their way home. They hit a patch of ice. The truck rolled a number of times and finally plowed into a tree. My dad had lived here all his life and never had a fender-bender. Guess all that good luck finally caught up with him.”

  Sky brushed away a tear. “Sounds a lot like Carl and Peggy’s story. It’s hard to lose someone you love.”

  The memory of the sheriff coming to their door, holding the sled his parents had gone to pick up hit him nearly as hard as it did that night. His stomach tightened. “If only he hadn’t brought that stupid thing with him.”

  “What stupid thing? Who are you talking about?”

  Understandable confusion registered on Sky’s face. “Sorry, guess my memories and my mouth seem to be out of kilter.” He smiled, though it pained him to do so. “Everybody in town knew what Micah wanted for Christmas, so when the sheriff came with the news, he had the sled with him. It apparently flew out of the truck bed and landed without so much as a scratch. Sheriff Jackson figured it might ease some of Micah’s pain.” He barked out a laugh. “Like that would make up for the loss of his mother and father.”

  “How did Micah react?”

  Noah’s gut clenched tighter. Memories he’d ignored for so many years assaulted his senses. The smell of the hay, the sound of his brother’s fury, the taste of blood after his grandfather had slapped him, and the sight of the sled now hidden in a corner of the attic. “Wait here.”

  He stood and squeezed between rows of stacked boxes until he reached what he was looking for. Other than a thick layer of dust, the sled looked exactly the way it had nearly twenty years after Micah had taken a pitchfork to it. Dust flew and the right rung rattled as he hefted it over his head and carried it back to Sky. “See for yourself.” He held it in front of her.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of the battered sled. “Micah did this?”

  “Most of it.” He leaned the sled against the wall next to the window. “The broken rung was my fault. I threw it at his feet when I burst into the barn full of accusations. If only he wasn’t so spoiled, so demanding, the favorite son. Everything I’d ever held back came flying out of my mouth.” He flipped the sled around and pointed to some red lettering. “See this?”

  Sky pushed from the bed and squatted down to examine the splintered wood. “Looks like some sort of inscription, but I can’t make it out.”

  “My mother wrote it.” He lowered himself next to her and touched what was left of the lettering. He didn’t need to read in order to remember. “It says, ‘For my favorite little boy’.”

  Tears filled Sky’s eyes. “You must have been so hurt.”

  No words would come. None could express his feelings. He closed his eyes and tried to regulate his heartbeat.

  She touched his hand. “Forgive me. I should never have asked you to tell me.”

  He shook his head and gripped her hands, holding her eyes captive. “No. I need to tell you everything.”

  She gave him a nearly imperceptible nod and settled on the floor.

  “My mother may not have loved me, but my father did, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. The pain I felt was so intense I thought I was going to die. So I lashed out at the only person I could — a kid who wasn’t old or wise enough to defend himself. When I was spent, Micah ran to the wall and grabbed a pitchfork. I thought he was going to come at me, but he took his frustrations out on the sled instead, smashing and stabbing.”

  “Did you try to stop him?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Micah may have been small, but he was wielding a pitchfork. Sam and Annie came running. It took some doing, but Sam eventually subdued him. Annie took him into the house and Sam read me the riot act, but only after putting me in my place.”

  “Physically?”

  “A busted lip. Could have been worse.”

  Sky ran her hand over the rough slats of the sled. “Why did you keep it?”

  Why indeed? He and his brother had each broken a piece of the sled, both taken their hurt out on some inanimate object. In some weird way it connected them. It was a reminder of his anger as well as his regret. He touched the inscription and allowed the built-up tears to fall. “So that I’d never forget.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  So that I’d never forget.

  Sky remained in the attic after Noah left. His words ran through her head over and over again. She didn’t understand all the implications, but the anguish in his voice, combined with the things he’d revealed, gave her a better understanding of the level of dysfunction he and Micah had lived with.

  What little information Micah had given her over the years had always revolved around his grandfather, never his father or mother. He’d obviously been too young and sheltered to see what Noah had been dealing with.

  She decided to leave her Christmas tree collection behind and spent the rest of the morning in her room working on her history paper. The Civil War had nothing on the Cooper family. A slight exaggeration, of course, but it helped her understand the misery families must have suffered when brother had been pitted against brother.

  With the paper emailed to her professor, Sky headed for the kitchen. She needed company more than food, but nobody was around. Annie’s meeting must have run long, or maybe the ladies decided to have lunch together. A quick search of the fridge and pantry produced nothing to her liking. She considered checking on Noah but let the idea slide. He’d likely need some time alone for a while.

  Instead, she grabbed a carrot from the refrigerator and went to see Ginger. The sun was high and bright, and much of the snow had melted between the house and stables. Her breath wasn’t visible, and there was no need to pull her gloves from her pocket.

  Ginger approached the door to her stall when Sky eased toward her. “Hey, beautiful, you want a snack?” She held out the carrot, which the horse took without hesitation and devoured in no time. She rubbed the spot between Ginger’s ears and smiled. “Looks like I should have brought more than one.”

  “I gotcha covered.” Micah appeared next to her with a carrot in his outstretched arm. “Seems we had the same idea.” Ginger whinnied and snorted at his approach. “It would also seem she likes you way better than she does me these days.” He handed the carrot to Sky. “I’d rather keep my fingers.”

  Sky offered the treat to the horse. “She wouldn’t bite you.”

  “Probably not, but she has no problem letting me know she could.”

  “Women do funny things when they’re pregnant.” She glanced at him and smiled. “Not that I’d know from personal experience. Guess it’s the same for horses.” She gave Ginger a final pat and stepped away from the stall. “I didn’t expect to see you this early. Annie’s not here, but I could fix you a sandwich or something.”

  He took her arm and led her toward the exit. “Annie said you plan to invite Carl for Thanksgiving dinner. Have you called him yet?”

  “No.”

  “How about I drive you
into town? I have some business to take care of. We could have lunch at the diner, and you could ask him in person.”

  Even though it had only been a week, the thought of seeing Carl pleased her. And Micah thinking about it pleased her even more. “I’d like that.”

  ****

  They chatted in the truck about nothing of any great importance. Sky wanted to ask him about his parents and that night, but wouldn’t. The timing wasn’t right. Noah had shared something Micah hadn’t, and bringing up that information now didn’t seem like a good idea. Noah hadn’t asked her to keep her silence, but she was thinking with her head instead of her heart. When Micah turned on the radio, she welcomed the accustomed silence between them.

  Micah stopped in front of the diner but kept the truck idling. “I’m going to go place an order for some fencing material. I’ll join you in about half an hour.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For bringing me here and giving me a little alone time with Carl.”

  Micah peered past her, toward the diner’s front window. “I’m not sure how much alone time you’re going to get. The place looks pretty busy.”

  Sky followed his gaze. The diner was packed. She couldn’t see into the kitchen, but there were at least three waitresses on duty, which meant Carl had hired someone new. And from what she could see through the clouded window, the girl was young, like she’d been when he’d first hired her. A new protégé? A new daughter?

  A sudden feeling of abandonment nearly swallowed her. Her chest tightened, and her throat constricted. Even though she didn’t plan on going back to work at the diner, the thought that she could was a security blanket. Carl had moved on. He’d had to, but that didn’t ease her pain. She had given up the life she knew to live a lie and had no idea when she’d be able to move on. She spun toward Micah. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  “What?” He felt her forehead and frowned. “You got a fever or something?”

  She batted his hand away. “Don’t be silly. It’s just that you’re right. It’s crazy in there. We could come back later when things aren’t so busy.”