by Rita Hogan
“Tell me what to do, Landon, or would you rather remove the hook?”
“You,” he said through gritted teeth. “First pour some of the iodine over the wound.”
She found the small vial of the dark, brownish orange liquid and poured a measure over the wound.
“The wire cutter is also a pair of pliers. Grasp the hook with the flat end and pull in the same curvature of the hook, less shredding of the skin,” he added in obvious pain.
“Do you want me to tell you when I’m about to remove it?”
“No, but please make it quick; it hurts like hell.”
Gritting her own teeth, Brooke grabbed hold of the hook as Landon had directed, steadily pulling it out of his skin.
Placing the freed sharp piece of metal into one of the top compartments of the tackle box, Brooke began to doctor his wound, cleaning it with more iodine before bandaging it. She did this while trying not to think about the reason for the scar on his wrist.
Over the past few weeks, she had wondered about the wide gold band he always wore. Brooke had assumed it was a special gift. It made her sad to realize its purpose was to hide the mark of such a sorrowful and tragic act. Certain there was a matching one under the watch on his other wrist, she felt grief blooming inside of her.
With her head bent over his hand, she held back the tears that threatened to escape. She remembered the reason he named his ship The Absolution, his endless search for forgiveness. The idea of him being lost, forever feeling adrift, caused her hands to tremble as she finished taping his injury.
Sensing the emotions Brooke warred with, Landon gently tilted her face so that he could peer into her eyes. He knew she understood what had caused the marks on his flesh. Understanding and something more, something she couldn’t interpret, filled his face.
She reached for his uninjured hand. While looking at him, she unlatched the silver watch and placed it in the chest pocket of his waders. When she looked at the matching scars, her sorrow brought about a fresh wave of heartache.
The thought of never having known Landon, never caring for him, never loving him, caused her to tenderly kiss the thin white line with her soft lips.
The simple tender gesture caused Landon to lose the tenuous hold he had on his own raw emotions. Reaching for Brooke, he pulled her into his lap and held her. The way she accepted his attempted suicide conveyed fearlessness in her. She wasn’t afraid to see the extent of his damaged and broken soul. It was also evidence of the feelings he had seen simmering below the surface of her heart these past weeks—feelings he could only dream she would one day have for him. Ironically, Brooke’s sorrow gave him hope.
After a while, the storm of emotions had run their course. Landon eased her away to look at her.
Brooke’s voice was quietly tentative. “Please tell me what happened.”
He nodded.
Standing from his lap, she checked his injured wrist to ensure the bandage was still intact before sitting back down in her own chair to face him.
The deep tone of his voice faltered ever so slightly as he began to share. “We moved to the Northwest the summer before my junior year of high school. In addition to the move, I received a 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air with all original parts, a gift from my father. It was the color of pure cream with lots of chrome. I loved that car.” There was a faraway look in his eyes.
“Where is it now?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I believe my parents sold it after the accident. After a year in Portland, I was actually enjoying the area and making new friends. There was one guy, Jacob Nelson, the most well-liked kid in all of Riverdale, who had rubbed me the wrong way during a conversation we had. It was the summer before our senior year. Our discussion took place two weeks before school started. I became angry with him, not because he was being unkind or out of line, but because he was right.” Landon glanced out toward the water watching the river glide by their resting spot. “I couldn’t accept his words and quickly became bitter and resentful.
“That same summer, Jacob’s father purchased for him a 1968 Mustang GT. He didn’t expect others to comment about how they thought he was trying to be like me, sporting a classic car. On the first day of school, when our classmates began making remarks to that effect he started trash talking, comparing my car to his and how his Mustang would outrace my Bel Air.
“When I caught wind of it—you know how word spreads quickly in high school—I told myself I was angry about the car comments. Really, I was still livid about our confrontation. After school I went in search of him and challenged him to a race. He immediately agreed.”
Landon looked away once more. “To this day I can remember the horror I felt. Looking into my review mirror to see how far behind me Jacob’s car was, I saw it flipping over on itself.”
He returned his gaze to Brooke. “His sister and two of their friends were watching the race. Olivia Nelson had begged her brother not to compete with me, but he didn’t heed her advice. I knew the moment I saw Olivia leaning over her brother, pleading in tormented cries for him to be all right, that he was gone. I could also tell by the way Jacob’s body was lying on the ground that he hadn’t survived the crash.” There was a faraway look in Landon’s eyes, as if speaking the memory had taken him back to the past and he was there experiencing the moment all over again.
“I couldn’t believe what I had done. None of it would have happened if I hadn’t challenged Jacob to the street race. Everyone knew it was my fault, especially Olivia. To get to the police car, I had to walk by her ambulance.” He paused for a moment, looking directly at Brooke. “The look of rage on her face crushed me. I’ll never forget the cold fury in her eyes.”
“I’m sorry, Landon,” Brooke whispered, reaching for his hand. It would be extremely trite for her to tell him it was an accident, and that it wasn’t as if he had forced the young man to race him. The truth was, had Landon never challenged Jacob to the race, there wouldn’t have been a wreck. A young man would not have lost his life. The ability to live with oneself after such a tragedy was difficult. “I can’t begin to understand what you have gone through all these years.” Turning both of his wrists over, she traced the white scars. Looking up at the man she was falling in love with, she added, “It would be hard for anyone to go on living. Tell me the rest.”
Landon told her about that first night after the accident, and how the beginning thoughts of suicide had entered his mind while lying in his dark room. The prospect of going to prison had kept him from following through with his desires. A living hell would be a far worse punishment for him. He shared with her the judge’s verdict and sentencing as well as the psychological treatment he underwent.
“When I came to Patagonia, there were moments when I felt like I was getting better. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the thoughts out of my mind. Images of Jacob’s lifeless body lying on the causeway, his sister in agony over his death, and her hatred for me were sometimes too much for me to endure. As I drove through the mountain passages, instead of marveling at the sights, I pictured myself driving over the guard rails and down the side of the steep terrain.
“Soon, the thoughts of ending my life became purposeful. I began to plan how and when. One Saturday morning I decided that would be the day. It was an unusually warm day for fall and Natasha wanted to take our boat out on the lake. She had plans to attend an event at the hotel that evening. When she left, I was going to end it all. Wanting to give her one last happy memory, I helped to make the day wonderful, one she would remember when I was gone.
“As soon as she left, I pulled out the letter I had written to her earlier that morning and placed it on my bed. After filling the bathtub with warm water, I laid there for a while thinking about my whole life, the days I had lived and the memories that had tried to keep me going. Then I thought about the future. I didn’t get very far because that’s when I realized that Jacob Nelson would never have any more tomorrows. He would never fall in love, marry the woman of his dreams, or
have a family of his own. He wouldn’t have the chance to make new memories with his family or meet new friends. I knew I wasn’t worthy of having the kind of life that had been ripped from Jacob’s hands.”
Tears formed in his eyes. He bent his head.
As his shoulders shook from the emotions, Brooke continued to hold his hands, caressing the thin white lines on his wrist.
Finally he looked up at her. With the sleeve of his shirt he wiped his eyes. “I’ll never forget the moment I laid the razor against my flesh. It was as if someone else was making the motions and I was simply observing. I saw the water turning red and I knew soon it would be over; I would finally have peace. I would receive what I deserved.
“When I heard Natasha calling for me, I never responded. I didn’t want my sister to find me while I remained alive. I found out later, she had forgotten her phone and returned home to retrieve it. Ironically, she wanted to have it on hand in case I needed her.
“She found me in the bathtub,” bending his head again, he tried to control the sorrow that filled him. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when she entered the bathroom. It was the same look of agony I had seen on Olivia’s. I knew how much she loved her brother and how close they were. Seeing the same pain reflected in my own sister’s eyes made me realize that what I had done was worse than living with my tragic mistake. Before I lost consciousness, I remembered praying that if I survived, I would never attempt to take my life again.”
Landon turned his hands so that they were now grasping Brooke’s. Tenderly, he stroked his thumbs over the soft delicate flesh. “I don’t regret surviving, but there isn’t a day I don’t suffer for what I did. I have learned to cope the best way I know how. You have to believe me, Brooke, when I tell you that I truly am a broken man, with only fragments of myself remaining.”
Removing her hand from his tender hold, she touched his face. “Landon, you may see yourself as fragmented, with not much to give, but I see you as someone in whom dreams are made. You’re that promise that lingers on the edge of forever. You’re the person someone spends a lifetime hoping to find.
“After my head injury, when you told me about my time at Beaverhead Rock and how in the last hour lightning struck, I thought of you. You’re like that moment. The agony of waiting for something you are desperate for, and how it is glorified in one brilliant display. I see you, Landon Gray, as the fulfillment of all that is right and good in my world.”
It took him a moment to speak. “Will you promise me something?” Landon asked, his eyes earnest and full of need.
“If I can, I will.”
“Promise me, Brooke, that you will always remember this moment, the words you’ve said.”
“I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Landon never mentioned that NLG Property Group had a corporate jet. With their many holdings in South America, it made financial sense for them to own and operate an aircraft to transport them as needed, which, according to Tomas, was often. On board the company’s Legacy 650, Brooke marveled at the luxurious interior. The airplane seated ten passengers comfortably. The chairs were made of buttery soft leather. The cream color was a perfect contrast to the gun-metal metallic grey laminate of the cabinetry and trim work. Plush carpet with thick piling lined the floor.
As the plane took off from San Carlos Bariloche and made its way to Punta Arenas, Chile, Landon and Brooke sat side by side while Tomas sat opposite them. She couldn’t recall what it was like to fly; the sensation of lift off felt as if she were experiencing it for the first time.
When the Legacy reached cruising altitude, the captain’s voice came over the loud system. “Good morning again, Mr. Gray, we have reached cruising altitude. Please feel free to move about the cabin. Donna will be serving refreshments momentarily. Press the call button if you need anything. Travel time, gate to gate, will be approximately three and half hours. Enjoy the flight.”
Pressing the intercom button, Landon replied, “Thank you, Jim.”
“He sounds American,” Brooke observed.
“Jim is an ex-pat like myself. He flew many years for Delta. Four years ago, he was furloughed and decided he had enough of the airline industry. Shortly after his layoff, my father met him at a function in New York. He knew we were looking into purchasing an aircraft and sent him my way. I liked him immediately. After checking into his credentials, we hired him. He came with a flight attendant: Donna is his wife. A package deal was struck. His co-pilot, Javier, is Argentinean. He also does a great job and has served double duty teaching Spanish to Jim and Donna.”
“What a great opportunity.”
Tomas chuckled. “Sometimes, I fantasize about trading places with them.”
Landon smiled at his vice president. “You would go insane sitting by the pool sipping piscolas the whole day long.” He looked at Brooke. “The flight crew always remains at our destination for the duration of our stay. They really don’t have much to do while waiting around except enjoy the good life.”
“How do I sign up for their job too?” she asked with a grin.
Landon met her gaze, pausing for a moment. “You’re too good of a photographer to give up your current occupation.”
Pure appreciation unfurled inside of Brooke, as she realized how much his opinion mattered. “Thank you.”
“I second that,” Tomas added. “Landon showed me the pictures you had taken of The Absolution. I couldn’t help myself and found some of your other work on-line.” Brooke smiled her thanks, as Tomas continued. “He’s also right about me going crazy sitting by the pool all day. I have to be challenged. However, I would rather be travelling to Punta Arenas under more positive circumstances. These kinds of issues I can do without.”
Donna came by to take their drink requests. After introductions and an exchange of pleasantries, she left for the galley to prepare their refreshments.
“What will happen when you arrive tomorrow?” Brooke was curious.
“If our suspicions are right, Javier Cesar, the general manager, won’t know what’s hit him. He has no idea we are coming; I had Camilla book the presidential suite under a pseudonym. We, along with the auditors, will show up at the hotel’s main offices first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll briefly explain what we’re there for, and the auditors will immediately back up all the data on the computers and confiscate the hard copy files.”
“If the auditors confirm your suspicions, what will happen?”
“We’ll call the authorities, who will take him into custody.” Landon reached into his briefcase and removed a file. “I hired a private investigator to look into Javier’s private life, to see if there are any outlying reasons why he might be stealing funds.” He handed Tomas a dossier on the general manager. “I got this late yesterday after you had already left.”
The vice president opened the report and began reading the information. “Interesting,” he murmured. “We might want to check the guest registry to see how often our clientele visit the Lake House.”
Landon looked at Brooke to explain. “Javier has a mistress. Chances are she has stayed at the hotel quite often. It’s doubtful she would have used her real name, or that she paid for the use of the rooms. This would be another piece of evidence that could be used against him. It also speaks to his character. Whether he has stolen from us or not, I feel sorry for his wife Celia and their two children. I would have rather not known about this part of Javier; I thought he was a better man.”
It would be the worst kind of betrayal. Visions of Landon in the embrace of another woman’s arms caused Brooke’s stomach to tighten. She may not be married to him, but her heart was irrevocably entangled; the idea of him being with someone else was impossible to accept.
“I feel sorry for her too,” she agreed.
The discussion soon turned to Punta Arenas and some of the great things the city had to offer. After a while, they began discussing politics in South America. It was amazing for Brooke to hear how well informed Land
on was. Obviously, he had a vested interested in knowing the political climate as it affected him as a business man, but she could tell he felt more. This part of the world was his home and she was confident he would never leave it.
It caused her to think and wonder about the possibility of a future with him. He had promised her new memories, to be there for her if she did remember her painful past. She wasn’t certain if Landon’s commitment had been the forever kind; she hadn’t expected it to be. However, as the days went by, Brooke knew she loved him and wanted a life with him. If he decided he wanted the same, it would have to be here with him, far away from her home in Montana.
Without a past, she didn’t know how she felt about making a life in Patagonia. Brooke had experienced a great deal of happiness since she awoke from her injury. What if when she remembered, she couldn’t bring herself to make the move? You have the cart before the horse, Brooke, she chastised herself. Here she was, mooning over the idea of forever with Landon before knowing the depths of his feelings for her.
The three-and-a-half hour flight was coming to an end. She had been lost in her own thoughts while the two executives talked business. When Jim’s voice was heard over the loud speaker to announce their descent, Landon turned to Brooke. “How about after we arrive at the hotel, we unpack, and the two of us explore Punta Arenas?”
Brooke gave him an appreciative smile. “I would like that very much.”
* * *
It was Monday morning, Gaston’s late day. Natasha could hear him in the living room playing with Isabella and Nicholas. She lifted the lid of the waffle maker. With tongs, she removed the crisp golden breakfast treat and poured in more batter. She had been thinking about Landon and Brooke’s trip to Chile. It was nearly eight; they had left an hour ago.
As she prepared the strawberries for the waffles, Natasha smiled when she thought about how wonderful it was to watch her brother falling in love with the photographer. A couple of Sundays ago, when they arrived with the single fish and his injured hand, she had sensed that something changed. There was an intimacy between them that was nearly tangible. All through dinner, she saw the tell-tale signs: the way her brother looked at Brooke, and the tenderness in the other woman’s eyes.
