Driving away, I glanced once at the blue box, wishing I hadn’t needed to do it. But he deserved the truth and I had only a small amount of courage to share it. Desperation spurred me on. I wanted him, but what I wanted paled in comparison to what he deserved.
Chapter Twelve
I picked up my cell phone and dialed Dean’s sister. I hadn’t spoken to her since the funeral. She deserved to know I’d found the letter.
“Hello?”
“Beth? It’s Maggie. How are you?” I licked my dry lips and squeezed my eyes closed. Snapping them open, I swerved the van back between the lines. I knew not to drive and talk on the cell phone, yet here I did it anyway.
A short silence heralded her reply. “I’m fine, Maggie. What can I do for you?”
“Actually, Beth, I wanted to tell you something.”
Angry, Beth breathed in enough air to sing an opera. “What?”
Dean’s entire family had blamed me and without a letter, I’d had no recourse against their anger. She hadn’t hung up, so far so good. “I found a letter.” No sound from her end and I watched the trees passing me on either side of the road. “A letter. From Dean.”
“I heard you. When? Where?”
“He’d hidden it in Pride and Prejudice.”
“Do you…Can you read it to me?” she whispered.
I turned down her driveway, moving through the shadows cast by the large trees. “I’m already here.” Flipping the phone closed, I parked my van. I looked out the passenger window to see Beth was on her way out the front door.
Closer to the van, she slowed down, offering a shy wave as she walked to my window.
“Hey, Maggie.” She crossed her arms.
“Hey, Beth.” I fingered the letter in my lap, glancing down to make sure I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. “Um, well…here it is.” Quick, before I could change my mind, I flipped it into her hands. “I—it’s kind of embarrassing. I don’t…Well, I don’t—”
“Maggie, it’s okay.” Beth’s hands shook. She closed her eyes, breathing in deep and blowing out. Chinese water torture couldn’t be worse than having to watch her open the envelope and withdraw the paper.
Burned in my mind were the words he’d written while she read them to herself.
“Ah, Maggie.” She folded the letter and focused on the ground, a tear falling from the tip of her nose. After an indefinable moment, she raised her gaze to me. “I thought it’d been so sad when he’d told us his injuries had caused sterility. Now I kind of know why he didn’t think the same way. I’m sorry.”
What the hell? “That can’t be, Beth. We tried having kids. He got someone else pregnant, so I obviously can’t have babies.” I rested my hands on the steering wheel.
“No. Mag, he was in a horrible accident when he was on that last tour. He was discharged on a disability code. Don’t you remember all the scars on his lower body? He told us the doctors had tested him multiple times but that his sperm number was lower than they’d ever seen.” She scrunched up her mouth. “You were trying to have babies?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Well, I don’t know about your fertility, but Dean made us promise not to tell anyone. I thought you didn’t want kids or something.” She returned the letter to me through the window.
I shook my head. “I made the copy for you. Can you make sure your mom and dad get it? And, no, I wanted kids more than anything else.” Tears always made me sniff. I wiped them away.
“We blamed you for so much. It was never your fault. I’m so sorry, Maggie.” Beth reached her hand in and touched my shoulder. I realized right then it wasn’t her touch I needed to comfort me.
“It’s fine. Tell your mom I said I’m sorry, okay? I need to go.” I jerked the stick into gear and backed away without wasting another moment.
I cried the whole drive to the campground I’d decided to stay at. The heavens seemed to agonize with me. A torrential downpour covered the area and I huddled in my van. No way in Hades was I getting out and setting up a tent in that. The pounding rain on the roof drowned out my sobs and moans.
“It’s not like I begged you, Dean. I just asked and you said sure. You never told me you couldn’t! Yet you never wanted the lights on when we had sex. You made me think it was me you didn’t want to see, but it was you.” I hiccoughed amid my tirade, yelling between sobs. “I can have babies, you pathetic ass! I can have babies. My parts still work. I can…”
My angry yells flipped a switch and the tears dried up. I’d been hitting the steering wheel but my hands dropped mid-bang to rest in my lap. Staring without seeing the sheets of rain beating onto the van, I realized I’d given up on Brodan thinking I had nothing to offer. I’d walked out on him when his brother had just died, leaving him to recover from the loss and surgery.
“Hang on, Brodan. Don’t let me screw this up.” I twisted the key in the ignition and turned the windshield wipers on full blast. Jerking the stick shift up and over, pushing and pumping the clutch, brake and gas in their time, I yanked the wheel hard and hurtled out of the campground with the hellhounds of regret chasing me.
Please, I can give you a future, please wait for me.
“Ah. What a beautiful day.” I smiled at the trees and the road I drove on. The house, a mere half mile away, beckoned in the early morning light. Clouds, dark and sinister, lingered on the eastern horizon. The storm had been magnificent, drenching everything unprotected.
I grinned, remembering the thunder and lightning, my favorite parts. Rolling down the window, I reveled in my second favorite, sniffing the fresh scent of rainwashed woods and greens.
Everything could be perfect if Brodan hadn’t gotten the mail yet.
Brodan. I sighed. Maybe I could be happy. Probably blew it with my postcard, but I could hope. I knew he’d be surprised to see me. The few times I’d called I had spoken with the nurse on duty. Each one in turn had reported impersonal points of interest. He’d been progressing and improving at a tremendous rate, going to physical therapy two weeks earlier than anticipated. I’d been pleased with the news and said as much. But each phone call had left me disappointed and wanting more. Asking to speak with him required more guts than I had claim to.
How was he dealing with Ryan’s loss? Did he miss me or was he glad I’d left eight days, four hours and, I glanced at my watch, twenty minutes ago?
Giving in to my need to see him and discover for myself how he was doing, not to mention my excitement over having a chance at a future, I decided to return and had told the nurse when I’d called the night before.
I turned my van into the drive and parked in my usual spot beside the garage.
A shower and fresh clothes would be in order, maybe a shave and a good pumice. A week or so without the basic necessities would turn Marilyn Monroe into a caveman.
The quiet house heralded my return. Nothing stirred when I opened the door and walked through. I all but ran to my bathroom, the thought of hot water, soap, shampoo and most importantly, conditioner, fueling me on.
A towel around my hair and another tucked under my arms, I wiped the steam from the mirror. Just a few weeks in the wild made my skin glow and my hair, peeking from the turban, shone deep burgundy.
Skipping the few feet to my room, I threw clothes on, clean clothes, and groaned at the simple pleasure. While I towel dried my hair, my attention was caught at the sight of two envelopes on my bed.
A step at a time, I approached the papers. Had Dean’s letter somehow moved by itself? To torment me with the magic of an evil Ouija board? Strokes making up my name on the paper differed from Dean’s. I reached out with trepidation, certain it would bite, if I moved too fast.
Maggie,
The nurse told me you’d be back today. A number of emotions hit me at the news.
Happiness, because I’ve missed you so much.
Sadness, because I’m not the man you left before.
Guilt, because I know I’m the reason you ran and you thought I needed thin
gs from you like kids.
Bitterness, because Ryan’s gone and you left then too.
Anger, because you didn’t say goodbye.
Relief, because I can finally stop waiting for your return.
And excitement, because now I know the hunger will begin if I can’t stay away.
I just want to tell you I slept at night before I met you. I wandered my empty days, filling them with work and lessons and my brother, always knowing the work would never warm my heart and my brother would soon die. You woke me up, even while I fought you and your pull. But then you left and on the same day Ryan died. My heart has been sick since.
I miss you. I want to explore what we could be together. I don’t need kids to tie me to you. I never planned on a family.
It won’t be easy. It’s going to be hard, but if you feel you need kids, we can adopt or whatever you want to do. It won’t be easy, but I will do anything to fix your sadness from before.
I could love you if you’d let me.
I’m sorry I didn’t know what I wanted before.
Brodan
P.S. Ryan bought this for you. He thought you’d like it.
Tears coursed my cheeks. Typical man. He must have seen Dean’s letter. Read it. The realization didn’t bother me like it would have in the past. The differences between the two letters I’d read didn’t escape me. In one, a man dying to escape me and in the other, a man waiting to be with me. Goodbye to the first and hello to the second. I picked up the envelope to push the page back inside and a silver house key fell out.
The hard, cold metal of the key sat in my palm. I studied the object, unsure of what it meant. A small white rectangle had fallen to the bedspread. Clutching the letter I wanted to show my grandchildren, I picked up the address tag.
Glancing at the fine black print I rechecked it twice. My old address. No, according to Brodan, my current address. Ryan had bought this for me? For me…
The hope had been dressing on a wound. While I’d gotten over Dean’s actions, my insecurities hadn’t diminished. With Brodan’s words in my hand and a key from a selfless friend, I finally felt my worth. A man found me desirable, insomuch he’d waited for me and even tried selling me on the idea with a heartfelt note.
Ryan had died, leaving Brodan free to live the life he denied himself.
I sat up. I needed to see him. Immediately. Clutching Brodan’s note, I smiled with anticipation.
A thorough search of the house revealed little. Nothing told me where he’d gone. I sat at the counter and waited for a few minutes, thinking hard about where he might have gone so early in the day, especially knowing I’d be arriving sometime.
Out the window the clouds from the storm had cleared from the sky only to be replaced by a soft overcast that had no end in sight.
I left the counter and walked out the slider door. A soft breeze combed through the leaves on the nearby trees and moved the ends of my curls. I remembered the day by the pond and in an instant had a craving to be somewhere I could remember in peace the last few months.
Walking through the trees, I noticed the quiet of the land. Even the water in the distance sounded like it whimpered for the loss of Ryan. The quick change in mood surprised me. How could I be so happy about Brodan’s letter and forget to remember Ryan?
I broke through the trees at the water’s edge.
Brodan stood beside the edge of the pond.
He turned at the sound of my approach, a slight favoring of his splinted leg the only indication he’d ever been hurt. Shadows from the brim of his hat hid his expression but the slight stiffening in his shoulders told me hadn’t expected me yet. In the solitude.
I ignored the shifting in the treetops with the increasing strength of wind. “I didn’t know you were down here. I’m sorry to interrupt.” I glanced at his hands, which held a dark wood box.
“Mag.” His voice sent shivers down my spine. How cliché, down my spine didn’t express the true delight that climbed along my nerve endings. It’d been too long.
I took one step forward and stopped to watch him. He hadn’t moved. Had I just imagined his voice, like a plea, in the storm-threatened air? I moved closer another step. Under his brim, he watched me, dark with an emotion I’d faced the last few weeks. Helplessness.
“Oh, Brodan.” I almost ran to stand before him. I reached my hands up around his neck and hugged him hard and long.
He bent his head, touching his cheek to the top of my hair. A long sigh escaped us both in unison.
I pulled away and smiled softly. “What are you doing down here?”
He looked at the box in his hands. “I’m saying goodbye to Ryan.”
“Oh.” Not just a box, it was an urn holding the man who’d offered me so much. “Why today?”
“I don’t know. Today felt right.” He looked into my eyes and my breath caught in my throat. “Ryan bought your house.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I recognized the address on the key. Do you know why?”
“He wanted you to have to move in with us so you and I would have to face our, um, attraction. His words.” Brodan grinned. “He was awfully talkative the last day in the hospital.”
“When wasn’t he?” So Ryan had arranged for Brodan and me to be closer. Even though he was gone, I still wanted to hug Ryan.
Brodan lowered his voice to a whisper. “You came back…”
It was my turn to look down at the box. I considered the dark grains in the wood. The cube couldn’t have been more than four inches on each side. I breathed in. “I came back…I found your letter.”
“But why did you come back?” He pressed me for the answer, leaning his head closer to mine. “And why did you leave?”
Why had I left? Better yet, why had I come back? I knew why, but could I explain it. “I, well, I had to go.” I grasped his hand in mine. “I found the letter. From Dean.” I gave him time to respond and when he didn’t, I continued. “I assumed not having babies was my fault.” I looked at his hand in mine. “I didn’t want to take away your chances for a family.”
Brodan pulled his hand from mine and caressed my cheek with his fingertips. “I never thought I needed anyone or wanted to share my life with someone. All I wanted was Ryan to live as long as he could. I used to chase down every research study there was. I even considered purchasing a set of lungs off the black market, but when I mentioned it to Ryan he cried. Hard.” His thumb traced across my lower lip and somewhere beneath my belly button a heat struck like lightning. “You are more than I thought I’d ever want or have. I can be happy.”
His words brought on a fresh bout of tears. He wanted me just as I was. “But what if I told you I found out it was Dean’s issue, not mine? He was injured and left sterile after the last tour. We never really had an honest go of it.”
Brodan’s eyes widened and his hand gripped my shoulder. He leaned in and left my question unanswered. Our mouths met in a conforming electric search unfettered by shouldn’ts and couldn’ts. Our heads angled and our tongues rejoiced as if rediscovering long lost mates. It took all my strength to remember to breathe.
All too soon the kiss ended—the sweetness more powerful than the passion we’d shared before. Our hands found each other and I leaned into his arm as we turned to face the water.
“Do you want to join me?”
“How are you saying goodbye?” Our reverent tones slipped out over the water, quiet and shy.
“He loved it here. I thought I’d spread his ashes over the water.” We watched the wind stir miniature waves on the surface. He opened the box and sprinkled the charcoal dust over the water’s edge.
Ryan settled to the surface. I looked up into the sky, the first raindrops pattering onto my face. I squeezed Brodan’s hand. The storm dumped the tears from heaven and trees across the way blurred. I tilted my face into the cool spray.
“Ryan’s crying for us, Brodan. He’s happy.” I turned to face him, knowing I could stand with him and face anything.
“I’m hap
py.” The simple words held everything. He brushed the wet curls on my forehead away from my face.
I pressed my wet cheek against his shirt front, my head tucked under his chin. “Me too,” I whispered. Raindrops on my face mingled with hot tears coursing down my cheeks. Happy tears. Now, that was a first.
About the Author
Inland Northwest bred, Bonnie has a degree in radiology technology as well as multiple experiences in the medical industry. Four children and a terrific husband ground her and they rev around the countryside on their dirt bikes. Faith, food, family, and reading and writing romances make up just a small percentage of her favorite things. She pinches herself sometimes to make sure she’s not in her own romance novel.
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ISBN: 978-14268-9209-7
Copyright © 2011 by Bonnie R. Paulson
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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