To Protect Her Son

by Stella MacLean

  As they entered the tent to Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, the friends and family members rose, uttering a sigh of delight at how beautiful Sherri looked. Gayle walked ahead of her friend, lifting her eyes only once to catch Nate’s adoring gaze. The look in his eyes... She... No, it couldn’t be. It was the happiness of the moment that made her think she saw love. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo as he rested one hand on his cane. She faltered on the uneven ground beneath the red carpet, smiling to cover her misstep.

  The air between them was charged with emotion as she came closer and closer to him. Neill said something to Nate that brought a smile to his face.

  Gayle made it to her spot next to Morgan before turning to watch Sherri finish her walk down the aisle on her mother’s arm. Gayle moved through the ceremony as if in a trance. She took the bride’s bouquet at the appropriate time and walked behind the newlyweds to sign the register with Nate nearby—a moment of sheer joy.

  All the while she couldn’t get the image of Nate’s loving smile out of her mind. Nate, a man who had shown little or no emotion around her, had been smiling at her with what looked like love in his eyes. Yet how was she to know? She hardly had a lot of experience with what a man in love would look like.

  No. It had to have been her imagination. She was simply caught up in the moment.

  She squared her shoulders as they turned to walk down the aisle to the entrance of the tent where they gathered for more photos. The photographer kept arranging and rearranging group photos, and every time Nate’s arm brushed her bare skin she felt a jolt of something so intoxicating her pulse jumped.

  Even when he wasn’t standing near her, she would surreptitiously search the lawn and veranda to see if she could spot him. Usually she found him talking to one of the many men attending the wedding.

  She felt relieved and a little more relaxed when they went to the dining room for the dinner reception. She sat next to Sherri while Nate sat next to Neill—the perfect arrangement to ease her jangled nerves.

  Long shadows through the trees at the edges of the lawn signaled the end of the dinner. Gayle followed Sherri and Neill toward the ballroom where the dance was to be held. Nate seemed to have disappeared, and she missed him. She could still see Nate’s smile, the look he gave her. Yet she didn’t know what to do about it, how to approach Nate, or even if she should.

  Her life hadn’t been filled with family and friends, with people who loved and respected her and wanted her in their lives. Awash in isolation despite the happiness around her, she didn’t want to think about her life and whether she might still have a chance for such happiness.

  When she thought about loving someone and being loved in return, Nate Garrison was the only man who came to mind.

  * * *

  THE BAND HAD set up outside on a stage brought in for the occasion. Gayle watched as Sherri danced with Neill, his arms holding her close to the cheers of the onlookers. She clapped along with the crowd, caught up in the sheer enjoyment of the moment.

  “They are beautiful together, aren’t they?” Nate whispered in her ear.

  Startled, she turned around. “They are.” The scent of him, his maleness, his powerful physique, surrounded her. What she wouldn’t give to have him take her in his arms.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  Had he read her mind? She hesitated. “I’m not a very good dancer.”

  “Neither am I. And of course, there’s this.” He held up his cane, and she saw the naked emotion in his eyes.

  “Are you worried about that?”

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  Standing there with him so close, her heart filled with excitement, she took a chance she’d never imagined ever taking. She reached out, eased the cane from his fingers. “Let’s put your cane aside for now and try our luck on the dance floor.”

  Surprise lit his eyes. His gaze locked on hers. “Shall we?” he asked, taking her in his arms as the first notes of a waltz began.

  He held her close as they began the slow dance. Gayle was hesitant at first. But with Nate’s guidance, his arm securely around her, she forgot her inhibitions as she let herself move to the music.

  “I’m glad this was a waltz number,” he said, a deep sigh escaping his lips, making her neck tingle. His hands touched the bare skin exposed by the back V of her dress. Their bodies were so in tune, so made for each other. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

  She held him so tight she could feel the fabric of his tuxedo against her cleavage.

  “I’m not going to fall over,” he whispered.

  “Sorry!” she said, looking guiltily up into his eyes.

  “You were trying to keep me from falling, weren’t you?”

  “No! No, I was...I was...”

  Just then the music changed to a rock and roll number. “I guess that’s it for us,” he said as he placed his hand in the small of her back and led her slowly from the dance floor.

  They retrieved his cane, the atmosphere suddenly awkward. She felt her social inadequacies like a heavy weight, forcing her to admit that she didn’t know how to rescue the situation. He thought she had been supporting him. She knew she’d been holding the one man she’d ever loved tight because she needed to.

  The minister appeared at Nate’s side and began talking to him, allowing Gayle to slip away.

  * * *

  SHE FOUND SHERRI in her suite, getting ready to change out of her wedding dress into a calf-length pale blue skirt and matching silk blouse. It only took minutes for the bride to return downstairs to the cheers of friends and family. Neill’s eyes were filled with love as he waited for her at the bottom of the staircase.

  She loved every second of watching her friend walk with her new husband out the front door of the inn to the waiting car. Everyone cheered as Neill picked Sherri up and gently placed her on the seat of the limousine. They appeared through the rooftop opening to cheers from the wedding guests.

  Once the newlyweds disappeared down the long driveway, Gayle slipped around the corner of the inn to one of the Adirondack chairs and settled in to watch the final rays of the sun create a kaleidoscope of light along the horizon.

  Seeing Sherri’s joy and knowing how hard her friend had struggled to find that happiness gave Gayle hope that someday she might be so lucky. All these years she’d let her past dictate her life. Starting tonight, she intended to work on changing all that.

  The floorboards creaked. She glanced up to see Nate climbing the steps of the veranda toward her. “It’s beautiful out here,” she said to deflect the supercharged emotions rushing through her at the sight of him.

  He loosened the tie of his tuxedo, exposing a tiny V of black hair on his chest. The tuxedo fit him perfectly from his broad shoulders past his narrow hips to his long legs.

  Nate Garrison was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man. But the dream wasn’t working out in reality, and the sooner she accepted that, the better.

  “Would you like a little company?” he asked as he approached her.

  “Please,” she murmured, and watched him lower himself into the chair next to hers and rest his cane along the arm.

  “Did you enjoy your first time as maid of honor?” he asked.

  Was he here simply to make small talk? Or was there a reason he’d sought her out?

  Stop second-guessing everything! “I did. It was fun. Sherri and Nate make a handsome couple.”

  “We did pretty well, too, didn’t we?” he asked, his gaze direct, setting up a pinging sensation somewhere near Gayle’s heart.

  She hoped they would sit right where they were until the sun went down. If she had her way, they’d spend the whole evening together, but he probably had family commitments after such a wonderful wedding. “We did. I’m just relieved I didn’t trip or drop the bouquet
.”

  “Why would you worry about that?” he asked, his expression telling her he really wanted to know.

  “It’s like any new experience. It can be fraught with the unexpected. Also, when I get nervous I tend to make mistakes.”

  “Like all of us,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Did Anna ever tell you about me and the potted poinsettias the Christmas I was ten?”

  “No, she didn’t.” She smiled, happy to be with him.

  As he told her the story of how he knocked over a tiered display of the plants in the local florist shop destined to decorate houses and businesses all around Eden Harbor, she tried to imagine what he looked like as a little boy. But when he finished his story, an anxious silence lingered between them.

  Not wanting him to leave yet unable to find a new subject of conversation, she grabbed the first thought that came to mind. “Morgan was really excited by the wedding and being part of it. She’s quite a little chatterbox. She was so sweet and kind to my son. She and Adam seem to like each other. I’m delighted that he wasn’t feeling left out of the excitement.”

  Nate looked at her closely. “Did you feel left out?”

  “I...I... There were moments back there when I wished I had a family like yours.”

  His gaze fixed on her face, he said, “I wish you did, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...maybe to get the goods on you. About your childhood and what sorts of pranks you got yourself into.”

  “There weren’t any,” she said, trying to block the pitiful tone from her voice.

  “You can’t be serious. You must have gotten in trouble at school, or maybe a scuffle in the playground?”

  She shook her head, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. She had never dared to do anything that might anger her parents, for fear of being slapped or worse.

  Nate’s hands were fisted on the arms of the chair. “Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to bring up...”

  “It’s okay. Really, I’m fine,” she said, forcing a show of bravado. “Everyone has skeletons in their closets, even the Garrison family, I’m sure,” she said, making it clear she wanted no more talk about her past. Talking of her past on such a beautiful occasion was the last thing on earth she intended to do.

  “So what’s next for you?” he asked, his voice quieter, less sure, more withdrawn.

  “I guess, back to work...” She didn’t understand his question, but waited for him to elaborate.

  “Are you ready to move on? You no longer have to pretend or make excuses because of your past. You’re free to do as you please.”

  “Yes, I am. But I guess until now I hadn’t considered what that would mean. I’ve never felt free to make choices except when it came to Adam, and sometimes even then they were limited by other factors like money.”

  “And now?”

  She was just a little disappointed. In the middle of such beautiful surroundings, with the look she’d seen in his eyes at the altar a few hours ago still fresh in her mind, he had not said one romantic word to her.

  She had no idea what to think, and she was tired of thinking. Yet she needed to talk to this man, to seek his advice...maybe for the last time. “I would like to put my past life behind me. With Harry’s visit to Eden Harbor over, I finally feel I can. I doubt that Adam will spend much time with him, and Harry’s not likely to come to Eden Harbor. One thing I know for sure—despite his newfound religion, Harry thrives best in a big city.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Don’t see why not,” Nate said, settling farther into the chair, his chiseled features softened by the lamplight illuminating the veranda.

  “What was the worst part about being injured?”

  * * *

  NATE SUCKED IN a breath. His hands gripped the arms of the chair. “The worst part?” he asked, his voice hard. Was she really so insensitive?

  “Oh. Sorry. That came out all wrong.” She reached for his hand, but he pulled it back.

  She bit her lip and swallowed hard. “Please, Nate, can I start over?”

  “Sure,” he said, but he didn’t mean it. He’d never really talked to anyone about what had happened that day. The counselor provided by the police department got what Nate felt able to give, and that was all. But the worst had come later when there was no counselor present, no one to protect him from the horrible vulnerability after his fiancée’s rejection.

  “I want to go to Anaheim and see the policeman Harry shot,” Gayle said.

  “Why? What did you have to do with it?”

  “Nothing directly. I’m beginning to understand that better. Yet I feel that I owe the man an apology for what Harry did. If I had been older, more mature, less naive, I might have prevented what happened to him.”

  Despite his mixed emotions, Nate needed to understand why she felt she had to do something that would probably be a wasted effort. “What if he refuses to see you?”

  “Then at least I tried,” she said, her voice a soft caress, drawing him in.

  “What about him? What if all you do is drag up old memories, old emotions he’d rather not revisit? What right do you have to inflict more pain on him?”

  The hurt in her eyes shone through the failing light. Guilt ran through him like a raging river. Damn! He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He felt sorry for her, for the years she’d carried this guilt about a man she’d never met. “What will you do if he simply says no? He has a right to his privacy, and you’re arriving a little late with your apology, aren’t you?”

  She eased forward in her chair. “Look, I’m sorry I brought this up. You’re the wrong person for me to talk to, and it was totally insensitive of me.”

  Was he always going to get it wrong where she was concerned? Sure, he hated it when anyone made reference to the shooting, because when they were done commenting he was left with his memories and the cane he was forced to use.

  How long was he going to let his cane, the symbol of his past injury, determine his future chances for happiness?

  He could choose to remove himself from this conversation, or he could trust this remarkable woman with his past. “Please don’t go. I’ll tell you how it was for me if it will help you decide what’s best for you to do.”

  She sat back in her chair carefully. Keeping her hands in her lap, her eyes intent on him, she murmured, “Go on.”

  “When I was shot, I lost my job—the one I’d trained for and was good at. All of it disappeared at the hands of a kid whose life was so messed up at fifteen there was little chance he’d ever know what it felt like to be respected by others and to find real love. I found myself feeling sorry for him. I looked into his background to discover that being a member of a street gang would be the height of achievement for him. And so I came to terms with my situation, or thought I had, until the day my fiancée walked out.”

  She turned to him, her eyes wide. She reached out and took his hand, a damn comforting feeling, as great as it was unexpected. “I had family and friends who cared about me, and when Natasha canceled our engagement I moved home from Boston. I’ve never regretted it, and I no longer hold a grudge where the teenager is concerned. I think I told you that before.”

  “What about your fiancée?”

  “That was a little different. I’d never made that sort of commitment in my life. I believed that love was forever, for better or worse, richer or poorer. I believed all that.”

  “And now?”

  He met her tentative gaze, the approaching night and the cooling air suspending his thoughts. “I don’t know.”

  She didn’t say a word, and he couldn’t think of anything to say but I love you. Three words he was afraid to say, not only because they spoke of commitment, but because he feared that his disability
might have the same effect on her as it had on his fiancée. And even if it didn’t, becoming involved with him would mean that she would share his disability, his restrictions. Gayle had had little opportunity in her life to take up skiing or tennis or any of the other things couples did. And if she became a part of his life, there wouldn’t be any hope that he could share such activities with her.

  He cleared his throat and struggled to shape some phrases that would fill the void. “What about you? Do you believe in happiness ever after?”

  “I want to,” she said, her voice soft.

  She wanted to love someone, to be committed to someone.

  “But you feel you need to go to Anaheim first before you can begin to put your new life together.”

  “Yes.” She pulled her hand from his. “Yes, I do.”

  “Would you like me to go with you?” he asked impulsively. “If you need me, that is. I could arrange it.” He felt like a teenager asking for a first date.

  * * *

  GAYLE’S ATTEMPT TO steady her breathing failed. Her fingers trembled where they rested on the wood of the Adirondack chair. She wanted to reach across and take his hand again. No, that wasn’t true. Not at all. She wanted to climb into his lap and have him kiss her senseless. “You’d do that for me?”

  “If you decided that seeing this person was the only way you could gain closure, I would go with you. I would. Definitely. I would,” he repeated, an uncertain expression on his face.

  Was he as anxious as she was? She couldn’t imagine this man being rattled by anything.

  “But what would you do while I visited the police officer?”

  “I’d wait outside for you, or go in if you wanted me to. Yes. That’s it. When he realizes that I was shot...it might help him to understand why you need to see him.”

  She focused all her attention on this man sitting in the chair beside her, his eyes on her, his expression one of complete sincerity. He’d been her rock, the person whose opinion and advice mattered most to her. She loved him—every bit of him, from the top of his head to his toes. More than anything in the world she wanted him to tell her how he felt about her. At the same time, she was terrified of losing everything if she confided how she felt about him. A part of her feared that he saw her as Sherri’s friend or as Adam’s mother, not as who she really was and that she wanted to be to him. She felt so close to Nate sitting here on the veranda, closer than she’d ever felt to anyone. And yet her fear was a barrier she didn’t have the courage to cross.