by Rita Hogan
When Celia’s weeping subsided, Brooke asked, “Is there someone we can call for you?”
She shook her head. “Soon, but first I need to know why my husband took his life.”
This was the part Landon was dreading the most. “I’m sorry to tell you, Mrs. Cesar, but we had suspicions that Javier may have been embezzling from the company.”
Shock filled the woman’s eyes. A fresh new wave of grief flooded her heart. “How can that be possible?” she cried out in agony.
Standing from the sofa, Celia paced the living room floor wiping feverishly at the flood of tears she could not control. “Is it true? Did he steal?” When Landon didn’t answer right away, she paused her pacing and faced him directly. “Mr. Gray, did my husband steal from your company?”
Standing from the chair he was seated in, Landon stood before Javier’s wife. “I’m sorry to say, but we found evidence that he did. We were interviewing the management staff before lunch. Someone must have said something to him.”
The fallen look on the woman’s face caused him to pull her to him and to comfort her in her moment of grief and devastation.
“My poor children!” she cried over and over into the wall of his chest.
Eventually, she pulled away to look at Landon. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gray, that my husband did this to you.”
Pulling her back into his embrace, Landon said, “Please, Mrs. Cesar, don’t apologize for him. I liked your husband. He was a good manager. We’ll never know why he chose to do what he did. I want you to listen to me.” He pulled the grieving woman away from him in order to look at her face. “A long time ago, a very stupid decision of mine caused a good man to lose his life. Since that day, I have struggled to live with the pain and regret of that tragedy. Like Javier, I reached my breaking point and could no longer live with myself. I wouldn’t be here today if it hadn’t been for my sister, who found me in time.”
There was a flicker of renewed sorrow in the woman’s eyes. “But you are not a thief, Mr. Gray.”
“Oh, but I am, Mrs. Cesar—the worst kind. I robbed a young boy of his life, his future. I stole from his family the thing that was most precious to them.” There were tears in Landon’s eyes as he remembered. “We are all fallible people. Find a way to forgive your husband, even when he couldn’t forgive himself. Promise me you will try; for your children, please try. He was a good father, was he not?”
Celia nodded.
“Help them remember the good things about him.” He paused. “Your life will be difficult for you, here in Punta Arenas. It is not as large a city as most. Even though I will not present this publicly, unfortunately people will talk and they will know. We have finalized the audit for the purpose of the investigation into your husband’s death, but it will go no further.
“I’m sorry for what your husband has done to you, and I want to help make it right. I will move you and your children to a new place, if it is what you wish. I will give you a new life, somewhere where you can start all over. You don’t have to decide now; think about it. I will be here through the funeral. I want everyone to know that I am standing by your side. I hope my presence will make things easier for you.”
Celia nodded.
“Good. After you bury your husband, then you can tell me if you will allow me to help you start over.”
“’Thank you seems very trite, Mr. Gray. You are forgiving, and unnecessarily kind and generous. I will think about your offer.”
“I’m glad. If I may give your number to my assistant, I would also like to pay for the burial arrangements. Camilla will work with whatever funeral home you choose.”
“I cannot accept that, Mr. Gray. You’ve already offered enough.”
“Absolution, Mrs. Cesar. I must insist.”
Realizing how determined he was, Celia acquiesced to his wishes.
* * *
Landon hadn’t spoken since they left the Cesars’ home. Watching the scenery fly by, Brooke had no idea where they were going, only that they were not going back the way they came. Over and over she thought about the moment between Landon and Celia. She was heartbroken over Landon’s pain that would forever stand as a vivid reminder of his sorrowful past.
His desire to be forgiven emanated from him like an aura. Having chased the elusive need for absolution for more than half of his life, Landon was quick to forgive those who had wronged him. He was willing to do more than provide absolution; he wanted to make things easier for those who offended him. Telling Celia about his own tragedy was more than simply providing comfort to the broken woman, it was his way of extending forgiveness to Javier beyond this life. When slapped with the unthinkable by someone he had trusted, Landon had turned the other cheek.
I don’t deserve this man. The thought exploded in her mind from somewhere out of the darkness. The strong feelings she had experienced over the last few weeks, like apparitions of truth, told her she didn’t deserve him. But why? she shouted at the ghosts in her head. I want to deserve him.
“Brooke,” Landon spoke, glancing at her for a moment.
Staring at the windshield, she didn’t say anything.
“Baby, what do you mean by that?”
She had spoken the words out loud. “Pull over, Landon. Please,” she begged.
A sign for beachfront access appeared. Landon switched on the turn signal before taking the exit.
As soon as the car was in park, Brooke opened the door and fled toward the water’s edge, walking as fast as her feet would carry her on the thick sand. She had to think. Her heart was collapsing from the weight of the feelings welling up inside of her.
She heard Landon calling her name and knew he was following her. He would catch up to her, and then what would she do?
“Brooke,” he said, the moment he reached for her arm.
Turning her, he held her by her shoulders. He looked at her with eyes full of concern. “Why did you say, ‘I want to deserve him’?”
Looking at him, her lips trembled at the thought of never being worthy of this incredible man. “I don’t deserve you, Landon. You are too good for me.”
He wanted to shake sense into her. “Why would you say such a thing?” he demanded, trying to control the panic that ripped through him.
Reaching for his hand, she placed it to the center of her chest. “Because, I know here that it’s true. The ghosts in my mind are telling me I am not worthy, and I know they are right.”
“Don’t you listen to them!” he bit out between clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare believe a word they are telling you! I am the one who doesn’t deserve you, Olivia.” Suddenly, he reached for her, kissing her as if to drive away the foes in her mind who would taunt her with such untruths.
Brooke wrapped her arms around his neck, matching the force of his kiss with her own. Her lips tasted, took, and demanded more. He gave all that she asked. Weak with desire, they fell to their knees on the sandy beach. Needing to touch the warm flesh of his body, Brooke unbuttoned his overcoat, then his suit jacket. Lifting the shirt tails from around the waist of his pants she reached under to touch the smooth taught skin of his back.
He did the same, drawing her as close to him as she could possibly fit, his hands caressed the delicate flesh of her torso. Landon pulled her away from him to expose the pale flesh of her neck, giving his lips full access to her soft skin. Lost in his desire for her, he said over and over, “I love you, I love you.”
Suddenly, Brooke felt moisture on her neck, the sensation forcing her out of her passion induced haze. She pulled away, lifting Landon’s head; tears were pouring down his cheeks. Quickly, he buried his face into the crook of her neck as aching sobs caused his shoulders to heave.
Holding him, she gave him every ounce of comfort, following in the footsteps of his heartbreaking journey.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to be forgiven, to forgive myself. I never thought it would be possible.” Landon lifted his head wiping way his tears. “I’ve waited a lifetime for you, sweetheart. I can’t stand know
ing that you feel as if you don’t deserve me. Please don’t think such thoughts.”
Placing her hands on both sides of his face, she replied, “Only if you promise me you’ll do the same.”
“I promise.”
* * *
Later that night, Brooke couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed thinking about the afternoon, and about how much she loved Landon, and about how much he loved her.
Suddenly, she gasped. Sitting upright in her bed, she realized he had called her Olivia on the beach.
She raised a trembling hand to her lips. Landon must have been in love with Jacob’s sister. In that panic-filled moment on the cool sand, when he had been so upset by her words, Landon had mistaken her for the woman whose life he had ruined.
Was it possible that somewhere deep inside he still loved her? His subconscious mind had pulled the woman from his past and into the present with her. That day at the river when she saw his scars and he told her about the accident, he never mentioned having feelings for Jacob’s sister.
Removing the covers, she stood from the bed to pace the floor of her room. The thought of Landon loving someone else crushed her. If he did love Olivia, would he tell her? If she confronted him and he admitted to carrying a well-worn torch for Olivia, could she move forward knowing that part of his heart would always belong to another? Thinking about Javier, she wondered if he loved both his wife and his mistress. If her suspicions about Landon were correct, Olivia would forever be the mistress in their relationship. The woman must be the reason why Landon wasn’t free to move forward.
Forcing herself to calm down, she told herself there would be time to think about all of this while they were apart. When she returned to Patagonia, she would decide whether or not she would confront Landon about Olivia. For now, Brooke chose to accept that he loved her—there was no doubt of his feelings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Brooke was sitting in the lobby of the bank in downtown Bariloche waiting to be seen by a representative who spoke English. Saying goodbye to Landon the previous day had been the hardest thing she had done in the few short weeks of her new life. The forlorn look in his eyes gave her hope, as she tried not to think about Olivia Nelson.
While on the airport tarmac, Landon had taken her into his arms and kissed her for what seemed like forever. “I love you,” he had said in a quietly desperate voice.
She had searched his eyes for several moments, looking for signs of any hidden messages. Finding only love and tenderness in his gaze, she kissed him once more. “I love you too, Landon; with all of my heart, I love you.”
“Ms. Johnson.” The stranger’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
The young man looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to confirm if she was, in fact, Ms. Johnson.
“Yes, that is me,” she replied, as she stood from her chair to shake the bank representative’s hand.
“What can I do for you?” he offered in superb English.
“I was recently out of town. Before I left, I came by the bank to withdraw some cash and to remove something from my safety deposit box, but I seemed to have misplaced the key.” That is what she told the bank representative. However, after making the withdrawal, Brooke had noticed on her statement a line item for advanced payment on a safety deposit box there at the bank. It had surprised her. After turning her room upside down, she could not locate the key. Assuming it was lost she decided to request a replacement when she returned from Chile, certain the box held some information about her past. She needed to see its contents.
“I will be happy to provide you with a new key. Please follow me. I will need to check your credentials and we will be able to take care of this in no time. Do you have a copy of your statement?”
Brooke handed him the piece of paper.
In less than twenty minutes she had the new key and was following the bank representative to the safety deposit boxes. When she opened the steel box and saw a black Kate Spade bag tucked away inside, suddenly she was afraid, and didn’t want to open it. The apparitions of her mind were there whispering to her. Hastily, she removed the bag and closed the lid, before informing the bank representative she was done.
Back at the Grand Vue, she sat on the cream tufted chaise in her room, eyeing the black bag on the coffee table. Brooke had told Landon before they left for Chile that she wanted to move past her fear of knowing about her past. Now faced with the possibility of knowing, she didn’t think she could go through with it.
It was Wednesday. Landon had called her the night before, after the plane arrived in Bariloche. They spoke for a while about his day and the arrangements for Javier’s burial. The service would be on Friday, and he would fly home first thing Saturday morning.
When Brooke awoke earlier that morning, the first thing she did was call Landon, telling him she didn’t want to be away from him for another moment. She could sense from the sound of his voice that he, too, was having a difficult time. Knowing they had no choice, they resigned themselves to the amount of time that would separate them.
Brooke glanced at the clock; it was now thirty minutes before noon. The other person she had spoken with that morning was Natasha, who had called to welcome her back and to see if she would like to join her and the family for their Wednesday lunch date at the hotel. Brooke was thrilled by the thoughtful invitation and happily accepted.
Looking back at the black bag, Brooke decided her past could wait a few more hours.
* * *
“When Landon called me about the shooting, I couldn’t believe it. I’m glad he and Tomas carry their handguns when they travel, especially under the circumstances of this trip. It could have easily been the other way around with Javier shooting at others. When backed into a corner, you never know what someone will do.”
Nodding at Natasha’s statement, Brooke added, “It’s exactly what I thought was happening when I heard the shot. I was afraid for Landon to leave the conference room.”
The noonday meal was over, and Gaston had returned to work. Nicholas was asleep in his stroller and Isabella was busy drawing at the table.
Brooke told Natasha about the visit to Celia.
Landon’s sister sighed. “It’s heartbreaking. I remember vividly the day he told me he was naming the ship The Absolution. We were in a planning meeting with the ship builders. I had written the question on my legal pad about the name; when he told me I nearly crumbled to pieces. I’d always known how elusive forgiveness was for him, but I guess I didn’t realize how much until that moment.”
“Has Landon ever tried to reach out to Jacob’s family?”
“While he was under house arrest he wrote several letters. All of them were returned unopened.”
“Now that years have gone by, do you think it would be worth him trying again?”
“I don’t know, Brooke. I really don’t know. What if the same thing happens? These past two months I’ve seen him taking steps in the right direction. Maybe it’s better to leave things alone.”
Brooke was relieved by his sister’s words. If she had agreed with the idea, it would have been hard for her to hear. The thought of him trying to reconnect with the woman he once loved—might still love—caused her pulse to race.
“Maybe you’re right.” With a sigh, Brooke added, “He has to be the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.” She told Natasha about the terror she had felt in the conference room and the flash of recognition. “It was as if a similar moment of fear had been trying to emerge from my memory.”
“What did you do?”
“I pushed it back into the darkness. I was too afraid to look.”
Natasha didn’t chastise her for being wary. She didn’t feel compelled to encourage her to remember. She simply said, “I know, Brooke.”
Later that afternoon, Landon took a break to call Brooke. “I’m glad you had lunch with Natasha.”
“Me too. I really like your sister and see why you love her so much. I’m having dinner with them tomorrow.”
“That was four years ago. What took you so long?”
Landon was lying on Olivia’s bed in the suite. He had given housekeeping specific instructions about not changing the sheets. The smell of her perfume lingered on the pillows. It made him feel closer to her.
Before calling Olivia, he had been lying there thinking about the afternoon on the beach. She had a way of making him feel extremely vulnerable. He would never have cried like that in front of anyone, maybe not even Natasha. It was as if the very essence of his emotional being was wrapped up in Olivia’s wonderful frame. Only she held the power to move him in such a way.
When he heard the words she had spoken out loud, about wanting to deserve him, Landon had known something inside was attempting to push its way out. Her conscious mind may not have been aware, but her subconscious knew why she had felt the need to deserve him. Thinking about her plans for revenge, Landon didn’t question whether his heart was in capable hands—he knew that it was. If her memory returned today, she would never move forward with her desire to make him pay. Whether or not she would want to remain with him was a whole other question.
The Olivia he knew was exactly the same as Brooke. Without her thoughts of hatred to hide behind, she had returned to that sixteen-year-old girl he had come to know during a summer of encounters in the Espresso Room back in Portland. She was the girl who smiled at him with a light in her eyes, brightening up his whole world. Olivia loved him.
Answering her question about what had taken him so long to move on with his life, he said, “It took me a while because I have been waiting for you.”
There was a long pause on the on the other end of the line before Olivia spoke. “Do you have to stay in Chile? Can you fly back tonight and return Thursday evening in time for the funeral? You’re only three-and-a-half hours away,” she pleaded.
