Howard nodded once, but there was no hope in his eyes. “At first light,” he confirmed. “We have the general coordinates from when we were attacked.”
Another thread to hold on to. Another sliver of hope. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be.
“And you will tell me what you find.” Another demand. “No matter what it is, Howie. Wreckage… Or nothing. You will tell me.”
“You have my word.” Howie turned his hat in his hands. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry. I never wanted —”
“He’s not dead yet,” Scarlett blurted. “He’s missing. Find him.”
The pilots nodded to her and made their farewells, all filing back to the small line of cars they’d driven from the airfield. Howie was the last to go, and he seemed to work with himself, struggling for words, but when they didn’t come, he left, too.
Scarlett stood in her doorway, Constance’s arm around her waist, as the cars drove out of sight. She needed to go inside. Needed to close the door. They were still under blackout. But she couldn’t make her feet move. She was a statue, frozen in that moment, held together only by denial and a cracking, plaster facade of will.
“Come on, love,” Constance said soothingly as she ushered Scarlett inside.
“He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s not dead.” Scarlett whispered the mantra, her heart doing its damnedest to convince her mind not to crumble.
She would know, right? If her heart was still beating, then Jameson’s had to be as well. And William… No. Don’t open that door.
Constance supported most of Scarlett’s weight as she brought her to the sofa. “It will be all right,” she promised, just as Scarlett had promised her on the supply room floor.
She went blessedly numb as she looked up into her sister’s eyes. “I would’ve left the letter unread.”
Constance sank into the sofa beside her, then gripped Scarlett’s hand.
There was nothing they could do now but wait.
Chapter Thirty-One
Noah
Jameson,
I swear, I felt my heart break into a million pieces the second I watched you leave, and yet every tiny shard of that broken heart loves you. I can’t fathom that you’re so far away, not when you’re everywhere I look here. You’re standing beneath the tree, inviting me to fly. You’re tucked into the corner booth at the pub, holding my hand beneath the table. You’re standing on the pavement, waiting for me when my watch is done. I feel you everywhere. I know you’re training the new pilots in Eagle Squadron, not flying combat missions, but please be careful. Stay safe for me, my love. We’ll figure this out. We have to.
All my love,
Scarlett
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Adam said as we hovered on the edges of the charity event, just beyond the crush.
“I almost didn’t,” I admitted, nodding at an acquaintance across the floor. My brow furrowed slightly, thinking of how small and intimate Georgia’s party had been, compared to the see-and-be-seen of all this. “You haven’t responded to my email.”
Adam sighed. “You spent a month avoiding all mine. Consider it payback.” He rolled his neck and tugged at his bow tie.
“She’s not going to change her mind.” My eyes continued to scan the crowd, seeking the one person I’d come to see.
“Make her.” Adam raised his brows.
“No.” My eyes narrowed as I spotted the indie film crowd to the left. “Besides, she won’t answer my calls. It’s been two weeks, so there’s a chance it’s intentional at this point,” I said with a self-deprecating smirk.
“You really want to go down as the guy who let his own ego get in the way of Scarlett Stanton’s happy ending?”
“That’s not what happened.” Nope, he wasn’t there, either. I turned toward Adam, but looked over his shoulder, continuing my search.
“Well, that’s what it looks like, and that’s what all the reviews are going to say.” He sighed.
“Is it badly written?” I challenged.
“Of course not, it’s you.” He shook his head in frustration.
“Then it stands. Copy edits are supposed to be back in a few days, right?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Yep. And let me tell you just how pleased the copy editor was to have to do both versions because you hadn’t picked one. Spoiler alert, she was pissed.”
“Thank you again for accommodating me.” I meant every word.
“She also said the happy one is better,” he tossed back.
“On that, we agree.” A flash of red caught my eye, and I smiled. Paige Parker. That meant Damian was here somewhere.
“Then why the hell are you—”
“Noah Harrison!” someone called out from behind me.
I looked over my shoulder. Bingo.
“Damian Ellsworth,” I said in greeting. Keep it civil. You need information. This wasn’t exactly something I could ask Georgia about—not anymore.
“Imagine seeing you here.” He slapped my shoulder and moved to join us. Georgia’s ex was just shy of six feet, giving me a good four inches on him as he smiled up at me with teeth so white, they were nearly blue.
“I could say the same, seeing that you have a new baby at home.” I forced a smile as bile rose in my throat. This was the man who had ruined the woman I loved, who had told her time and again that she wasn’t enough to keep him satisfied.
What a fucking tool.
“That’s what nannies are for,” he answered with a shrug. “So, how is my wife?” He lifted his drink and took a long sip.
I refrained from shoving it down his throat. Barely.
“I wasn’t aware that you had a wife.” I blinked in mock confusion.
Adam sputtered on his own drink.
“Ha. Touché.” He glanced over me with obvious assessment. “Tell me, does that old grandfather clock still keep time? The one in the sitting room?”
“Sure does.” I lifted a brow at the transparent reminder of his past role in Georgia’s life. “You know, that reminds me. You knew Scarlett pretty well, didn’t you?”
Adam’s eyes bounced between us like a ping-pong match, but he stayed silent.
“Sure did. That’s why I have ten of her books optioned.” He smirked.
“That’s right,” I said like I’d actually managed to forget that fact. What the hell had Georgia ever seen in this off-brand Nick Nolte? “Then you arrived just in time, because my editor and I were discussing the end of the new book.”
“The book no one is supposed to know about?” He half winked, which was just weird.
“The same one.”
“Guys. Keep it down. We’re going for the whole surprise announcement angle, remember?” Adam warned.
“Right. Of course.” I could have kissed him for playing along. “Anyway, Adam and I were discussing the end of…Scarlett’s story, and there was one piece of the puzzle I didn’t quite get out of Georgia while I was in Colorado.” I exaggerated a wince. “Well, you know better than most how open she isn’t.”
Damian laughed, and my fists clenched, but I kept my arms crossed. “Yeah, she’s a prickly one, my Georgia.” He smiled wistfully.
My Georgia, asshole.
Adam lifted his brows and took a long drink.
“Right. Anyway, I was wondering—for the sake of the story—did Scarlett ever tell you why she waited so long to have Jameson declared…” The word died on my tongue. In my head, the two had lived on, deliriously happy.
“Dead?” he suggested, taking another drink.
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He looked at me like I was a moron. “She never gave up hope. Ever. That woman was hard as nails, but man was she a romantic. She checked the mail at the same time every day, hoping there had been some word, some discovery, and that was long after Brian passed on.�
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“Brian. Right.” I nodded. “I guess meeting him finally gave her the push she needed to move on and live for herself. Makes sense. Should have thought of that.” My lips curved upward in what I hoped looked like a grateful smile.
Adam choked on his drink, then cleared his throat to cover the sound. That was exactly how I’d written the ending, putting the pieces together from what little Georgia knew about that part of Scarlett’s life.
“I wouldn’t say meeting him. Scarlett knew Brian for years, actually.” Damian’s beady little eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “They never talked about it, but he moved into that tiny cottage in the mid-fifties. Now that you mention it, she told me once that she couldn’t marry Brian that first decade because it felt like her first marriage wasn’t over.” He shrugged. “Guess she finally realized it was. I mean, I think waiting forty years is long enough, don’t you?”
My stomach sank.
“Hey, baby.” Paige Parker hooked her elbow through his. “You about ready to sit down?”
“I’m chatting business,” he told her, then leaned down to whisper in her ear when she pouted.
The blonde was pretty, but she wasn’t Georgia. She didn’t have Georgia’s eyes, either, or her wit, or strength. In fact, Paige couldn’t even hold a candle to Georgia.
“Are you thinking what I am?” Adam asked quietly.
“Depends on what you’re thinking,” I answered, spotting my sister and Carmen on their way back from the ladies room. Perfect timing. I’d gotten what I’d come here for.
“Somehow Scarlett knew for certain in 1973 that Jameson wasn’t coming home,” he whispered. “She knew, and she didn’t tell anyone.”
“Let’s keep that thought between you and me.” Even the implication would crush Georgia.
Adam nodded as Paige walked off without so much as an introduction from her husband. Class act, Ellsworth.
“Speaking of Scarlett’s…life,” Damian continued. “When do I get to read the manuscript?” He sipped at his drink casually.
“It releases in March.” I was done playing nice.
“You’re really going to make me wait until release?” He laughed it off. “Imagine if we announced the movie at the same time as the book. The sales would be astronomical.”
“Georgia’s never going to let you make the movie.” I grinned.
“Of course she is. She’s just pissed about Paige. She’ll come around. Trust me.”
“Trust you. That’s funny.” I nodded to Adrienne, and her steps quickened as she saw who I was standing next to. “You can trust me, Ellsworth. It’s not going to happen.”
His expression changed, dropping all pretense of humor. “What would it take for you to cough up that manuscript? Maybe lean my way so Georgia does the same? From what Ava tells me, you two are…close.”
“I’m in love with her,” I corrected him.
“And?” He tilted his head, zero emotion in his eyes. “My offer stands. Happy to kick something back for you, too.”
“I’d rather die.” I held out my hand to Adrienne. “You ready to go?”
“If you are,” she replied.
“I am. Damian Ellsworth, meet my sister, Adrienne. Adrienne, meet Georgia’s piece-of-shit ex.” I turned away from his beet-red face. “Adam. Carmen. It was great to see you.” Pivoting with a smile, I walked away with Adrienne at my side.
“Emotions have no place in business, Harrison,” Damian sneered. “Eventually Ava will wear her down. She always does. How do you think I own the other ten options?”
I paused. He’d made five movies and still had five to go. I’d seen the way she dug her heels in for Scarlett’s wishes, so then why did she give up… Sometimes the only way to keep what you need is to let go of what you want. Her words from that day at the creek.
“Do you now?” My smile widened. What if she’d been referring to something else entirely? Clever woman.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
“It means I know Georgia better than you do.” I didn’t bother to wait for his response. “Sorry we aren’t staying for dinner,” I said to Adrienne, walking her to the door.
“I only came for the show,” she said with a shrug. “Did you get what you needed?”
I nodded, moving us through the crowd.
“You don’t look pleased.”
“Georgia has trust issues.” I nodded at another acquaintance as we approached the coat check.
“Obviously.” Adrienne blinked up at me.
“What would you do if you knew the only person in the world Georgia trusted completely had lied to her for her entire life?”
“Are you certain?” She paled, her eyes widening.
“About ninety percent.” Give or take.
“You have to be a hundred, and then you have to tell her.”
I cursed. “That’s what I figured.” Getting Georgia back just became a lot more complicated.
Chapter Thirty-Two
June 1942
Ipswich, England
“What are you doing?” Scarlett asked as she walked into the living room.
“Packing your things,” Constance answered without looking up. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Every muscle in Scarlett’s body locked at the sight. Constance had one trunk and two cases open between the sofa and the window.
“Stop,” Scarlett ordered, her tone shrill enough that William startled from where he sat on the floor.
Constance paused for a moment but finished folding a piece of William’s clothing, placing it in one of the cases. “You have to go,” she said softly, turning to face her sister.
Scarlett’s eyes burned, but she blinked back tears, just as she had for the last two days. “I’m not leaving him.”
“Of course you’re not. You’re taking him with you.” Constance looked pointedly at William.
“You know damn well I mean Jameson.”
Constance lifted her chin, and in that moment, resembled Scarlett far more than Scarlett resembled herself. “They have searched twice—”
“Twice is nothing!” Scarlett crossed her arms in front of her chest, fighting to hold herself together. “Just because they’ve searched that stretch of coastline doesn’t mean he didn’t land somewhere else. It takes weeks for the first confirmations to arrive if he’s been taken prisoner. Maybe even longer if he’s hiding.” Tomorrow. One more search. Two more weeks. Her heart pushed the deadline back every day, fanning the embers of hope that logic denied.
Constance’s wedding ring flashed in the sunlight that streamed through the living room window as she rubbed her temples.
“You don’t have to stay,” Scarlett reminded her. “You have a life.”
“As if I would leave.”
“You have a new husband. A husband who, I’m sure, is angry to know you’re using up all your leave to be here.”
“It’s compassion leave. It doesn’t count. And he’ll survive. Besides, he’s only my husband. You’re my sister.” Constance held her gaze, making sure Scarlett saw her resolve. “I’m staying. I’m packing your things. And tomorrow, I will drive you and William to the airfield to meet Jameson’s uncle.”
“I’m not leaving.” How could she possibly abandon Jameson when he would need her the most?
Constance took Scarlett’s hands in her own. “You have to.”
Scarlett ripped her hands away. “No, I don’t.”
“I’ve seen your visa. I know how close you are to the Americans’ quota, and I’ve seen the expiration date. If you don’t take this chance, it might not come again.”
Scarlett shook her head. “He’ll need me.”
Constance’s expression softened, filling with compassion.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Scarlett whispered, retreating a
step. “He could still be out there. He still is out there.”
Constance’s gaze flickered toward William, who chewed on the edge of the blanket Jameson’s mother had made. “He wanted you to go. He arranged all of this so you and William could be safe.”
Scarlett’s chest tightened. “That was before.”
“Can you honestly tell me he wouldn’t want you to go?”
Scarlett looked anywhere but at her sister, trying and failing to pin down one emotion, one certainty. Of course Jameson would want her to go, but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do.
“Don’t take it away,” Scarlett whispered, her throat aching with all the words she wouldn’t let herself say.
“What?”
“My hope.” Her voice broke as her vision blurred. “It’s all I have left. If I pack those bags, if I get on the plane, I’m abandoning him. You can’t ask me to do that. I won’t.” It was one thing to take William to the States, knowing that Jameson would join them when the war ended. But the thought of not being here when they found him, of leaving him to heal on his own, no matter what condition he was in, was more than she could take. And if she so much as gave in for the tiniest second to the possibility that he wouldn’t come home, she would shatter.
“You can wait for Jameson in the States just as easily as you can wait here. Where you are doesn’t change wherever he is,” Constance argued.
“If there was a chance Edward had survived, would you have left?” Scarlett challenged.
“That’s not fair.” Constance flinched, and the first tear broke free, sliding down Scarlett’s face.
“Would you?”
“If I had William to worry about, then yes, I would have left.” Constance looked away, her throat working as she swallowed. “Jameson knows you love him. What would he want you to do?”
Another tear fell, then another, as though the dam had broken, as her heart screamed in silent agony at the truth it was forced to acknowledge.
Scarlett scooped her son into her arms and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his cheek. For William. “He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I’d take William to Colorado.” The tears came in a steady stream now, and William tucked his head in to her neck, like he understood what was happening. God, would he even remember Jameson?
The Things We Leave Unfinished Page 37
