Pain radiated from her dad’s eyes as he listened, and every so often he’d shake his head in disgust or sympathy or whatever the appropriate emotion was at the time.
She didn’t say too much about Garrett—only that she’d ended the relationship and how that seemed to be the smart thing to do. And, for the most part, her dad withheld advice.
“It just felt so right, Dad.”
Her tears turned on again, and he took her hand, his touch as gentle as his voice. “Maybe it is right.”
That certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. “But not if the trust isn’t there.”
“No, trust is important.” He swallowed hard. “It has to be earned, and that takes time.”
“Time Garrett and I don’t have.” She shrugged. “I’m leaving Saturday.” She paused, realizing she’d been talking only about herself since he’d arrived. “Are you staying till then?”
He smiled, but sadness darkened his eyes. “No. Actually, my return flight leaves at three, and I have to be back at the airport at one, so I’ll need to leave here by noon.”
“What? It’s seven already! You’re only here for five hours?”
“I have an important meeting at the church tomorrow. I have to be back for it.”
“So you came all this way...?”
“To show my daughter—” He looked at her then with an intensity she’d rarely seen except when her dad was preaching. He tapped his chest at the place over his heart. “To show my daughter...who is more precious to me than life itself...how much she’s loved and treasured. And that I’ll always be there for her.”
Tara’s heart swelled so large it pushed the air from her lungs and for a moment she couldn’t speak. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through, Dad,” she managed, at last. “I’m not sure I deserve you.”
“None of us deserve the blessings we’re given. That’s what makes them special.”
She glanced out the window and saw Garrett and Dylan stirring in their apartment. They’d blessed her life. She could only hope that in some small way she’d blessed them, too. And the best way to assure that she remained a blessing, at least to Dylan, was to leave while things were good between them.
She made her mind up quickly. “I’m going to call the airlines and see if I can move my flight up to today. I want to go home with you.”
Her dad’s eyes widened. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
Her heart, which had grown so large a minute ago, started to wither. She knew if she stayed, it would shrivel up to nothing in no time flat. “I came to Paris to find out who I am, and now I know. I’m Tara O’Malley from Taylor’s Grove, Kentucky...and I’m proud of that,” she said more to herself than to him. “I need to go home, need to get back to my life.”
“But...?”
“No buts.” Resolve brought her to her feet. She had a plan of action. It may not be the best one, but at least she wouldn’t be wallowing in sorrow here for four more lonely days.
She could wallow at home just as easily...surrounded by people who loved her.
“I’m going to shower and pack.”
“Can you be ready by eleven-thirty?” Her dad’s eyes held a strange glint.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I have one thing I want to see during this whirlwind trip to Paris.”
She gave a small laugh. He was so predictable. “Notre-Dame’s not far. I’ll hurry and maybe we’ll even have time to walk there.”
He shooed her in the direction of the bedroom. “Go on. I need to call your mom.”
Tara grabbed her luggage from the hall closet and hurried to her room to begin stuffing it with clothes.
* * *
IT WAS JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT, but Faith wasn’t asleep. She wasn’t even in bed. She’d been staring at the same words on the same page for a long while, debating with herself whether to call the sheriff and report Sawyer as missing.
He’d texted her around five saying he’d talk to her tomorrow. She’d been so hurt and angry he’d gone fishing, she hadn’t texted him back.
But an hour or so ago, she swallowed her pride and called him because he still hadn’t returned from the lake and all sorts of scenarios had started messing with her mind. Most of them centered around him falling out of the boat and being knocked unconscious and drowning.
Of course, he’d specifically texted tomorrow, so he could be ignoring her calls or might even have his phone turned off. He did that sometimes when he needed to think.
She picked up her car keys. She would just drive over to the house. He might’ve taken the boat home since her car wasn’t taking up the extra space in the garage. She could run over there and peek in the garage window....
Her phone rang, shattering her thoughts. The caller ID said it was Sawyer, but what if someone had found his phone in an empty boat?
Panic flooded adrenaline through her system. “Hello?” she practically screamed into the phone.
“Whoa!”
“Don’t whoa me!” she snapped. All of the frustration that had been bottled up since morning came spewing out. “Where are you? It’s after midnight and you haven’t brought the boat back and you haven’t been answering my calls and I’ve been imagining your dead, unconscious body floating around some dark cove on Kentucky Lake.”
He laughed? How dare he?
“Dead and unconscious, huh?”
“You know what I mean. I’ve been scared out of my wits.”
“I’m in Paris, Faith.”
“Well, you could’ve at least told me you were going down there.” She huffed. “Is there a tournament?”
He chuckled again. “Not Paris, Tennessee. Paris, France. I’m with Tara.”
Faith’s knees buckled, and she plopped down on the floor. “You’re in France? With Tara?”
“I couldn’t stand the thought of her being over here alone, dealing with all she’s going through.”
Faith winced at the raw emotion in his voice. “Oh, Sawyer. How’s she doing?”
“Hurting. Depressed.”
Shock began to dissolve her brain matter into a mishmash of relief and worry, releasing a flood of questions into her brain. “How’d you get there so fast? Why didn’t you tell me you were going?”
“I left as soon as I could get the arrangements made, and I didn’t tell you because I knew you would try to talk me out of it.”
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She would most definitely have tried to talk him out of such an extravagant trip, especially with their income on the chopping block... Oh, Lord! “Did you forget the meeting with the Board of Fellowship tomorrow night?” With him not there to defend himself, Sue would ramrod her way through the process in record time.
“I didn’t forget.” The weariness in his tone caught in her chest and squeezed her heart. “I’m booked on a return flight this afternoon. Tara’s decided to come home with me. She’s going to try to change her ticket to that flight.”
“Ah...” A worried gasp escaped from Faith’s lungs. “How are we going to pay for all this, Sawyer? If you lose the church...?”
“Don’t worry about the money. Everything’s already taken care of.” The gentle voice lowered. “Love always finds a way.”
The reality of the situation finally rooted in Faith’s mind, warming her through and through. Sawyer, bless his heart, had gone all the way to Paris, France, to take care of his daughter. His daughter, regardless of the circumstances surrounding her conception. He’d used their savings, no doubt. But that didn’t matter because he was there for Tara, taking care of everything...like he’d always done. And Faith could feel his steadfast love holding her up, too.
“You’re a wonderful man, Sawyer.” Faith hoped her voice could convey a tiny part of the pride she felt. “Tara’s so blessed to have
you in her life.”
“I’m the one who’s blessed, Faith.”
She couldn’t stifle the sob that sprang from her lips.
“Hey, don’t cry.” His soothing voice caressed her from across the miles...across an ocean. “I’m going to let you go now. I’ll call you when we get back into St. Louis. But adding in the four-hour drive, it might be late when I get home.”
“I don’t care how late it is. I’ll be up.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” She heard the smile in his voice.
A final question popped into her mind. “But if you drove the truck to St. Louis, what did you do with the boat? It’s not here.”
There was a long pause, and then an even longer breath. “I sold it.”
Faith felt another blow to her system that shook her to the core. “You sold your dad’s bass boat? Why?”
“I used the money to come to Paris.”
“But, Sawyer, you loved that boat.” Faith couldn’t stop the tears now if she wanted to, and her voice started to blubber as her nose and throat clogged.
“No, the boat was nice to have, but I love my family. Trust me, it was a small price to pay for the love I get in return. I’ll talk to you later.”
He hung up quickly, and Faith understood he didn’t want to hear her cry. But that didn’t stop her. She cried for Tara, for what she was enduring. And for the bass boat, the family heirloom...gone now.
But, most of all, she cried for the conclusions she had jumped to that morning.
Sawyer loved their children. All three of them.
And he loved her.
He proved it day after day...had proven it as long as she’d known him.
He would get home, and they would work out their problems.
“‘Love always finds a way.’”
She branded his promise on her heart.
* * *
GARRETT FELT THE TENSION as soon as he walked in the door at Soulard.
Far from the usual morning bustle of activity and conversations, people were scurrying around like scared mice, speaking in hushed whispers, eyes wide with alarm or narrowed and tight with agitation.
Through the conference-room window, he saw the same group he’d met with last night, but two others had been added to the group. Adrienne Goffinet, Soulard’s brilliant young attorney, and a middle-aged man he didn’t recognize, but who was speaking and had everyone’s attention. Adrienne’s face was ashen and drawn into a scowl.
It took only a quick glance for the solemn atmosphere in the conference room to creep into Garrett’s gut and chill him to the bone...only another few seconds to know that Jacques Martin was behind it.
He’d barely had time to set his briefcase on his desk before Henri came in and closed the door. His friend held no coffee. This was even worse than he’d thought.
“What’s happened, Henri?”
“C’est mauvais, Garrett. C’est très, très mauvais.”
“Tell me what’s happened, damn it!”
Henri unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and loosened his tie. “An official is here from le CFE.”
An official from the Centre de Formalités des Entreprises was here? Henri was right. This was very bad. “What does he want? Do you know?” Garrett empathized with Henri’s loosening of his tie. His own felt like a noose around his throat now.
“I hear the rumor there is a threat to close the company temporarily. Important documents are missing from the Soulard file.”
“Shit!” Garrett’s ability to stand left him in a rush and he dropped into his chair. The terror he felt was reflected in Henri’s eyes.
How long was temporarily?
Adrienne had often complained of the hellish number of documents the CFE required to start up the company. But it was beyond belief that the attorney, who was meticulous to the point that Garrett suspected she might have OCD, could’ve missed anything. It had taken her months to complete all the required paperwork. That was three years ago. How was it that missing documents were just being discovered today? “This is Jacques Martin’s doing.” The coincidence was too great for Garrett to attribute the crisis to anyone else.
Henri nodded gravely as he pulled up a chair and sat down. “I fear you are correct.”
Neither of them said anything for a long minute. What was there to say? What was done couldn’t be undone. He’d screwed up royally, and they both knew it.
Henri rested his arms on the desk and leaned forward, his voice low and sympathetic. “What about you and Tara?”
Garrett glanced away, unwilling to share the full depth of the grief churning low in his belly. “Well, let’s just say if bad news was counted like hits in baseball, this morning I’d be batting a thousand.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“ARE YOU READY?” Her dad gave the living room one final inspection.
Tara had contacted the landlord and made arrangements for the cleaning service to come by. They’d assured her they would take care of any food left in the cabinets and refrigerator. She’d stripped the bed and left all the linens on the washer, and checked under the bed and in the closets for anything left behind. And she’d taken care of the trash.
Everything was done.
Well...there was one thing left to do. The most heartbreaking thing. But it was inevitable.
“Just one more thing, Dad. Come here. I want you to meet somebody.”
Dylan looked up from his book when they stepped onto the terrace. He was all smiles and boyhood charm, and, for a few agonizing seconds, Tara thought her heart would stop for good.
She called on all her teacher reserves that kept her from bawling whenever she read a sad story to her classes.
“Hey, Dylan.” She motioned him over. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
He placed his book on the bench and came running at her invitation, stopping by her dad with a big grin that said “See how fast I am?”
Tara stooped down and put her arm around his waist. “You remember I told you I was looking for my father?” He nodded. No use complicating this more than necessary. “Well, I found him,” she said simply.
Dylan’s expression of wonder made him look so much like Garrett, she had to cut her eyes away to breathe. She pointed. “This is my dad from Kentucky, Sawyer O’Malley. Dad, this is Dylan Hughes.”
Dylan’s face turned somber for a moment, and he stuck out his hand. “Bonjour, Monsieur O’Malley. Comment allez-vous?” The formal facial expression gave way to a wide grin. “That means hi.”
Tara could tell by her dad’s smile that the child had already won him over. He laughed and grasped the little boy’s hand. “Well, bone jur to you, too, bud.”
“Hey, my dad calls me bud sometimes!”
A tremor shot through Tara at the mention of Garrett. She stood up and patted Dylan on the back. “My dad has come to...uh...” Lord, this was even harder than she had imagined. “To take me back home. So, I guess I have to say bye.”
In a nanosecond, Dylan’s happy expression went south. “But I don’t want you to go.”
Tara knelt down again and took his hand. “I know it’s hard. It’s hard for me, too. But remember when we talked that day at the Luxembourg Gardens, and I told you I’d have to leave sometime soon?” His bottom lip protruded as he nodded. “Well, everything I told you that day is still true. Your dad—” She paused and swallowed. “Your dad has my number, and I want you to call me anytime you want. As often as you want.”
“But talking on the phone’s not the same as being with you.”
Tara shrugged. “I know. But it’s the next best thing for people who live so far apart. And I have something for you that will make it seem like I’m still here, sort of.” She reached into her tote and pulled out the purple Crown Royal bag containing th
e GPS locator and all the homemade tokens. “I want you to keep this so you and your dad can do lots of geocaching and find lots of treasures. And I want you to call me every time you find one.”
“Wow!” The surprise brought a smile to Dylan’s lips and Tara’s heartache eased a smidgen when he took the bag. “Thanks!”
She pulled a card from her tote. “I wrote down the addresses of some geocaching clubs that meet here in Paris. I thought y’all might consider joining one.”
“I wish you could be here to join it with us.” Dylan’s eyes grew cloudy. She had to get this over with quickly or it was going to be a major trauma for them both.
She raised her chin. “I wish I could, too.” A sob was building in her chest. Its weight pulled at her heart. “But I really have to go now, so give me a hug, and let me get out of here.”
He grabbed her around the neck with such force she struggled to stay upright. “I love you,” he said.
She nodded. “I love you, too.”
She let him break the hug first, and then she stood up. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
When they turned away, her dad’s arm came around her shoulder and she leaned into him, appreciating the support.
“Hey, Tara,” Dylan called.
They stopped and turned back around as the little boy came running to her, holding out one of the tokens they’d made together. “You’ll need this in case you find a treasure.” His innocent grin told her he didn’t realize the devastating consequences his parting gift would wreak on her emotions.
She took the token and squeezed it. “I think I’ve already found one.” She gave him a quick peck on the top of his head and somehow managed to hold her outburst until she and her dad were safely back in her flat with the door closed.
Then the dam broke, rendering her amazed at the volume of tears her body could still produce. They had to be nearly all gone by now.
Her dad held her, silently rocking back and forth again, until this wave passed.
Moonlight in Paris Page 25
