by Donna Fasano
“The Great One smiled. ‘Sacrifice is an excellent human quality, but it isn’t the greatest. Try again.’”
Tyne realized her breathing had slowed and calm cloaked her like a promise.
Jasper leaned forward a fraction. “Wolf traveled to the ends of the earth and back, finally finding himself back in his very own forest. He came upon a man running through the woods, his bare back laced with oozing wounds from the whip. The man had been judged a thief by the town baker and his punishment had been a public lashing. Furious at having suffered another’s penalty, the man aimed to exact revenge on the real criminal.”
Silence hung in the air during Jasper’s long pause. Tyne’s heart skittered. Surely, there was more to the story.
“Well?” she asked. “Did he find the culprit?”
Jasper nodded. “Wolf followed the man to a cabin, watched from the trees as he peered through the window. The man’s face crumpled and his eyes welled with tears. He turned away, his shoulders round, all thought of revenge gone. Wolf couldn’t stand it. He had to see what had made such a change in the man. Wolf trotted to the cabin window and saw the real thief doling out bits of bread to five sunken-cheeked children. Wolf’s heart ached at the sight.”
Tyne felt her own chest paining.
“Wolf captured one of the whipped man’s tears and carefully carried to it to the Creator. ‘Forgiveness,’ Wolf proclaimed. ‘Forgiveness is the greatest human quality.’
“The Great One was pleased. ‘You have done well. And you are correct. Forgiveness is what sets humans apart from all the rest of creation, and it is what fills their future with hope.’”
She knew the story had come to an end by the expression on his face. Jasper reclined against the chair back and gulped down his tea like a man dying of thirst. The ice cubes thunked against the bottom of the glass when he set it on the table.
“Ah, that was delicious,” Jasper pronounced.
“That was a beautiful story.” Tyne spoke out of politeness, really, since the story had left her a little confused.
Yes, the point of the fable had been forgiveness. But who was she meant to forgive?
Zach? Had her son said something to Jasper about her being angry with him?
Lucas? But he hadn’t done anything that needed forgiving.
Then it dawned on her. The last thing she’d said before Jasper had launched into his tale.
I feel sick every time I think about how I’ve kept them apart for so many years.
Then another correlation in the story clicked. Like the forgiven thief, she’d had honorable motivation for her behavior. If she thought about it a while longer, she’d be willing to bet there were other lessons to be found in the story.
The smile she offered Jasper was bright. “A really beautiful story.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
With a basketball tucked between his elbow and hip, Lucas answered the knock at the door. He never expected to see Rob Henderson on his doorstep.
After welcoming the man with a handshake, Lucas said, “Tyne’s in the kitchen.”
Zach came into the living room from the hallway, surprise making him stop short. “Hey,” he said to Rob, lifting his hand.
“Hi, Zach. How are you?” Rob looked at Lucas. “Could you tell Tyne I’m here?”
“Sure. Hang on.” But Lucas had only taken a step toward the kitchen when Tyne appeared in the doorway, a tea towel in hand.
“Rob,” she greeted, and Lucas couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smile.
“This is the quickest I could get here,” Rob said to her.
She dried her hands on the towel. “I thought you might come at the weekend. I didn’t expect you to just drop everything and race out here.”
He shrugged. “You sounded pretty serious on the phone. Like…well, like something might be wrong.”
It got quiet, and the silence swiftly grew uncomfortable. Lucas wasn’t sure who to address, Tyne or Rob, so he tossed out, “Zach and I were going to shoot some hoops, but if you’d rather he stuck around to visit…”
“No, no.” A lock of Tyne’s blond hair slid over her shoulder when she shook her head. “You guys go ahead. Rob and I need to talk.”
When a woman used those words, it rarely meant something good was about to happen. Suddenly, he was reluctant to leave the house, but Zach tapped him on the shoulder.
“Let’s go,” his son said, and Lucas followed out the front door.
Lucas paused at the edge of the yard. “Instead of going to the Center, let’s head over to the church.”
“But there’s only a half court there.”
He lifted a shoulder as he tossed the ball to Zach. “We’re practicing some shots. Half court is all we need.”
Holding the ball at chest level between both hands, Zach turned his head to gaze up at the house. He looked at Lucas. “She’ll be all right, you know. It did feel a little tense in there, but I’ve never seen ’em fight before. I’ve never even heard Rob raise his voice. Do you know what’s going on? Did you know he was coming?” He stepped out into the street as he talked, bounced the ball once, then tossed it to Lucas and started walking toward the church.
Lucas fell into step beside him, and rather than answer his question, he asked one of his own. “So they get along well?”
The instant he asked, he regretted it. Zach was savvy enough to figure out when he was being pumped for information. Tyne and Rob’s relationship was none of his business.
“I dunno.” Zach shrugged. “They get along okay, I guess. I try to avoid ’em as much as possible.” Zach reached over and stole the ball Lucas was bouncing. “They go out to dinner and stuff. Just the two of them. And when they’re at the house I make myself scarce. Go to my room. Or down the street to hang with a friend.”
Before Lucas could ask why, Zach explained, “Nobody likes feelin’ like a third wheel.”
Lucas wondered if Tyne knew how Zach felt. If they were going to marry, if Rob was going to become Zach’s step-father—
Some dark emotion congealed deep in Lucas’s gut. He was just starting to deal with the new experience of being a father, and now he had to contend with the idea of sharing his son with a step-father.
“Do you like Rob, Zach?” He shouldn’t press, but he couldn’t help it.
Zach kept his gaze directed straight ahead. “I don’t really know ’im. We’ve watched a few games on ESPN when Mom’s running late at work, but…” He shook his head, letting the rest of his thought trail.
“Well, they’re getting married. How do you feel about that? Has your mom ever asked you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. But why should she? It’s her life. And I won’t be living at home forever. I don’t care what they do.”
The tick in his jaw said differently.
Lucas let the subject drop. For now. It upset him to think that Tyne hadn’t talked with Zach about her upcoming marriage. It bothered him even more that her fiancé wasn’t more concerned with Zach. Granted, he’d only seen Rob Henderson twice. In the courtroom and just now at the house, but the man didn’t give Zach much attention either time. And after hearing his son’s point of view, Lucas could only conclude that Henderson wasn’t interested in forming any kind of real relationship with Zach. The situation troubled him. Should he try to talk to Tyne about it?
A group of teens were shooting baskets in the church parking lot when he and Zach crossed the grass, and they were happy to have more players join the game. Lucas tugged off his t-shirt and tossed it onto the ground.
“Nice tat.” Zach gave him a thumbs up.
Lucas automatically smoothed a palm over the dreamcatcher that covered his biceps.
Zach said, “I’d love to get a tattoo.” Then he snickered. “Something a little less girly than that, though.”
A good-natured chuckle erupted from Lucas. “Let’s just say I thought it was a good idea at the time.” Then he admitted, “Your mom picked it out.”
“She did?”
Zach laughed.
“You guys playing, or what?” one of the boys on the court called.
There were seven of them once Zach and Lucas joined in, so the group played two on two and swapped out after a set number of points had been made.
Competition was fierce from the get go. Although Lucas had several inches of height on all the boys, he lacked the stamina that came with their youth. He was further handicapped by the fact that he was trying to keep one eye on the road that ran alongside the church. The road that Tyne’s fiancé would have to take on his way out of town. Twenty minutes later, he begged a time out and plopped on the grass to rest. The boys continued trying to hog the ball and outshoot each other. No other group of humans had honed the fine art of jeering at each other as well as male teens.
Lucas stood, swiping his palms down the thighs of his shorts, and caught sight of Rob Henderson’s pale green sedan. The men’s gazes met. Henderson didn’t smile, didn’t lift his hand, didn’t slow the car. If anything, he gunned the engine as if he couldn’t get out of Wikweko fast enough.
Lucas ground his back teeth together. Henderson’s treatment of Zach was unacceptable, damn it. Even if he and Tyne were arguing, it wasn’t Zach’s fault. Henderson shouldn’t breeze into town with barely a hello to Zach and then leave without at least saying goodbye. It was plain wrong.
“Zach,” Lucas called toward the tussling players, “I’m going home for a bottle of water. You want one?”
Zach faked right, spun a full turn and jumped, stuffing the ball into the net with a grunt. He let out a yell, bumping sweaty shoulders with one of the boys. Then he turned to Lucas. “Water would be great. Thanks.” He moved toward the player who had possession of the ball. “I’ll hang out here ’til you get back.”
As he walked back to his house, Lucas marveled that he could feel both irritated with and concerned for Tyne at the same time.
The fact that she allowed her boyfriend to ignore Zach annoyed him. Why would she want to marry a man who didn’t seem to want anything to do with her son? It just didn’t make sense.
Henderson’s demeanor when he’d arrived had made Lucas uneasy, and the way he’d left town had only bugged him further. The knot in Lucas’s gut told him Tyne and her fiancé had fought about something. If that bastard hurt Tyne, Lucas would—
Would what?
Hell, what happened between Tyne and her lover was no business of his, damn it.
With the perfectly logical thought still ringing in his head, he jogged the last fifty yards to the house.
“Tyne,” he called. The living room was empty. So was the kitchen. He paused by the stove. Muffled sniffs and jerky breaths came from behind her closed bedroom door. He rapped twice on the jamb, turned the knob, and pushed open the door.
“Tyne?” He went to the bed where she sat, her back to him. “What is it? What happened?”
He knelt beside her, and when she didn’t respond to his questions, he scooped up her hand in his.
“Tyne, talk to me. Whatever he said, he probably didn’t mean it. Guys can be jerks, honey. We just can’t help it. You got to know that.”
Lucas was talking off the top of his head. The sound of her crying was ripping his heart to shreds. He’d say anything, do anything, to dry her tears and make her smile.
Finally, he reached up, touched his index finger to her chin and gently guided her face so he could look into her eyes.
Her nose was red and runny, and tears clung to her eyelashes, streaking wet trails of mascara down her cheeks. He remembered a time when they were teens when her father had found them together. The man had called him a slew of derogatory names. Tyne had been mortified. She’d cried bitterly and apologized at least a dozen times for the hurtful things her father had said. Lucas had thought no woman could ever be more beautiful, even with her red eyes and splotchy cheeks. All these years later, he still thought the same.
He snatched a couple of tissues from the box on the bedside table and tucked them into her hand.
She wiped her nose and wadded the tissues in her palm. “I was the jerk, Lucas. I mean, I-I’m—” emotion hitched her voice “—sure he th-thought I was, anyway. But I just couldn’t do it. I had to tell him that I just couldn’t do it.”
Sobs wracked her slender body, and a lump rose in his throat.
Just ten minutes ago, he’d been as irritated as hell, and he’d intended to tell her exactly what he thought of her lousy choice of husbands, or future husbands, or what-the-hell-ever. But all of that had dissolved into nothing in an instant, and the only thing he could think about was hugging away all of her sadness.
But then the strangest thought seeped into his brain. Although his shirt was dry now, he’d been sweaty out on the basketball court. He probably smelled to high heaven. As inconspicuously as possible, he turned his head and sniffed.
He looked up and realized he’d been caught in the act. Her chin trembled with upset at the same time her mouth quirked with a helpless smile.
“What are you doing?” she asked, suddenly chuckling and crying at the same time.
His brow furrowed and he lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been playing ball with the boys. Keeping up with them made me all sweaty.” Resting his hand on her bare knee felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. “I probably smell like a wet hound.”
“You’re fine,” she told him. “Come up here.”
She pinched the sleeve of his t-shirt between her fingers and gave a little tug. He rose, sliding to sit beside her on the mattress. Her inhalation was deep; then she shook out the tissues and blew her nose. She sat a moment, taking a couple more full, slow breaths. “Believe it or not, I think I was crying because I’m relieved.”
He kept quiet even though he still didn’t understand what the heck had happened between her and Henderson.
“There must be something wrong with me.” Still clutching the damp tissues, she lifted her hands, palms up, staring at the far wall of the bedroom. “What is the matter with me?”
Her tone told him she wasn’t expecting an answer. Not from him, anyway. Even if she was, he wouldn’t dare say a word.
She took another deep breath and then leaned over and plucked a fresh tissue from the box. After folding it in half, she dabbed at the outside corners of her eyes.
“He picked me up in the grocery store. Rob, I mean.” She darted a quick look at Lucas, her mouth twisting. “In the produce department.”
“You’re kidding?” A chuckle slipped out before he could catch it. “I thought that kind of thing only happened in deodorant commercials on television.”
Her eyes were still moist when she grinned, but at least she’d stopped crying. “And you have body odor on the brain.”
All he could do was nod in silent agreement. The questions running through his mind were distracting, but he thought it best to wait her out.
“I was choosing avocadoes for guacamole, and he asked me how to tell when they were ripe.” Her gaze slid to the battered mahogany dresser a few feet away. “Rob and I started dating and—” she lifted her hands again “—it was…easy. He didn’t ask more of me than I could give. He didn’t seem to mind that my job required that I work nights and weekends. It isn’t easy dating someone who works every Saturday night. He didn’t bat an eye when I told him that I had a son.”
Yeah, he all but ignores that little fact. Lucas clamped his jaw tight.
“I wasn’t expecting him to ask me to marry him,” she continued. “And when he did, I don’t really know why I said yes. It just seemed…the next logical step?”
Her blue eyes welled with tears again, and she ran her hands anxiously up and down her thighs—and that’s when he noticed her left hand. Her ring finger was bare.
“You don’t marry someone because it’s easy, right?” Her chin trembled again. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
She looked him directly in the eye, and there was nothing vague about the query this time. Clearly, she wanted an answer, but he thought it wise to keep his lip zipped.
The old alarm clock on the bedside table ticked loudly in the quiet that fell around them. He’d never known silence between two people could become so jarring.
Finally, he murmured, “There’s nothing wrong with you, Tyne.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’d never thought about it, you know?” Her voice hiked an octave. “If I loved him, I mean. How could I not have thought about it? Oh, I’d have said I loved him just because—”
Her chin dipped in an effort to hide her wince.
“—well, I did agree to marry him.” She lifted her gaze to his. “But until you asked me about it this weekend, Lucas, I never really sat down and reasoned it all out.” Softly, she added, “That just sounds so crazy to me. That I hadn’t put any real thought into why I was planning to get married.”
When he’d asked her about Henderson at the café, he’d thought her shocked expression had been in response to his ballsy, bad manners.
“I’d never call myself the most intelligent woman in the world, but I’m sure not stupid. I don’t live with my head in the clouds. I’m not a ditzy blonde.” She looked up at him. “Am I?”
Ready to assure her she was not, he only had a chance to smile before she barreled ahead.
“Granted, I took on a great deal of responsibility when I bought a partnership in the business. We expanded operations, we took on more clients.” She moistened her lips and reached out to toss the tissues into the wicker basket near the bed. “But I couldn’t possibly have been so busy that I could blindly walk into this whole marriage thing…turn it into such a horrible mess.”
