CHERISH
Sherryl Woods
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Prologue
Brandon Halloran had never felt so rich, and for once in his sixty-eight years it had nothing to do with the money or the possessions he’d amassed. Squaring his shoulders, his eyes misted over as he caught sight of his beloved Elizabeth at the back of the old Boston church he’d been attending for his entire lifetime. There was no denying the passage of time, but by God, she was a beauty still.
Petite, vivacious and with an undimmed sense of mischief in those twinkling blue eyes of hers, Elizabeth Forsythe Newton radiated joy as her gaze met his. Her pace picked up just a fraction—one beat ahead of the wedding march—as if she couldn’t quite wait, after all this time, to be his.
Oh my, yes, Brandon thought, his own heart filling with anticipation. The wait had definitely been too long. Nearly fifty years had passed, during which he’d married another woman and raised a family. He’d seen his own grandson wed to a spunky girl who’d reminded him so much of his precious Elizabeth that his heart had ached.
Life had a way of making amends, though. Finding Lizzy again after all this time had made Brandon feel twice blessed. When he’d finally convinced her that they weren’t a couple of old fools for wanting to get married at this stage of their lives, she’d tackled the plans with the enthusiasm of a young girl. She’d even drawn his beloved daughter-in-law and granddaughter-in-law into the celebration and convinced them to share the day by renewing their own vows.
His heart full, Brandon watched his son pledge to honor his wife. Kevin had almost lost that woman—twice, in fact. There’d been a time when Brandon himself had put obstacles in their path—one of his few regrets. He’d been convinced that Lacey Grainger wasn’t the right woman for his son, that she’d been responsible for his rebellion against everything the Hallorans stood for. Only later had Brandon come to realize that Lacey was the mellowing influence, the gentle force that brought out Kevin’s best instincts. To Brandon’s everlasting relief they had mended their marriage, and after today’s ceremony of renewal, he expected it would be stronger than ever.
Now, impetuous, full-of-life Dana Roberts was another story. She’d led his grandson on a merry chase, starting things off by slugging Jason in a quiet, respectable tavern. Word of the ruckus had spread far and wide, to Jason’s chagrin and Brandon’s own delight. My, but Dana had been a breath of fresh air with her feistiness. She’d been a little rough around the edges, but Brandon had spotted the life in her right off, and he’d watched with glee as Jason struggled against the pull of her offbeat ways. Now they were expecting his first great-grandbaby—any minute by the looks of Dana.
Yes, indeed, he’d had a full and blessed life, Brandon thought. Maybe he’d been missing Elizabeth all this time, but the years hadn’t been wasted if they’d all led up to this moment. Maybe Brandon and Elizabeth had come to appreciate what they had just a little bit more. Their path to the altar hadn’t been easy. They’d had to learn all over again about trust and forgiveness, but he didn’t have a doubt in his mind that it would be worth it.
When the minister turned to him, Brandon clasped Elizabeth’s fragile hand and held on tight to quiet an unexpected attack of nerves.
“You are the light of my life,” he told her. “We have missed so many years and yet it is as if they never were. What I feel for you today is as strong and as deep as it was on the day I first told you I loved you so long ago. Perhaps those words have even more meaning now that we have known the sorrows of loss, the strife of living, the meaning of forgiveness and the joy of rediscovery.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I, Brandon, take thee, Elizabeth, a woman I loved and lost and have been blessed to find again to be my wedded wife. I promise to cherish thee all the rest of my days.”
To his surprise there were tears in just about everyone’s eyes when he’d finished. He wanted to whoop with joy himself, but knew he didn’t dare. He’d caused the rest of them enough alarm over the past few months with his impetuous courtship of the woman who was now, at long last, his wife.
Brandon couldn’t hold back a chuckle, though, as he thought of the way he and Elizabeth had shaken things up. By God, they had had a fine time. God willing, there was more to come—for all of them.
Chapter One
It had been an absolute bear of a day, with one last wintry rain to cast a pall over the promise of spring. Exhausted, Brandon Halloran poured himself a stiff drink and sank into his favorite leather easy chair in front of the library fireplace. As he stared into the dancing flames, he tried to empty his mind of all the problems that weren’t up to him to solve. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to be having any more luck with that now than he had over the past weeks.
He’d spent the whole day worrying anew about whether his son and daughter-in-law were going to patch up their marriage. A few weeks ago a divorce had seemed all but certain, but after Kevin’s most recent heart attack, Brandon had seen for himself how much Lacey still loved his son. He couldn’t imagine why the two of them were so darned blind to something that was clear as glass to him.
Brandon’s hopes had risen when his son left the hospital. Kevin and Lacey had traipsed off to Cape Cod together. Brandon had been reassured that things were finally on the right track for the two of them. Then, just today, he’d found out that Lacey was back in Boston—alone.
He’d confronted her earlier tonight, only to have her remind him that he was butting in where he shouldn’t. But if he didn’t make them see sense, who would? He was family, dammit, to say nothing of being older and wiser.
It was nights like this that Brandon missed his wife the most. Grace had been good to him, loving and gentle. Given his mulishness, she’d also had the patience of a saint. And she’d known when to exert that iron will of hers to keep him from making mistakes he’d regret.
If he and Grace had lacked a certain passion, well, that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Before she’d died so suddenly two years ago, they’d raised a wonderful son and seen their grandson grow into a fine young man. Maybe it was good she hadn’t seen Kevin’s marriage hit this rough patch. Her heart would have ached just as badly as Brandon’s did.
He and Grace had always been able to talk things through. That was the quality he missed the most. She would have understood this empty feeling in the pit of his stomach better than anyone. She’d always known what trouble he had letting go of anything, whether it was putting an end to the meddling in his son’s life or walking away from the textile company he’d inherited from his father. How did these young people today say it? Get a life! That’s what he needed to do, let go and get a life.
There was certainly no denying it was time to let go of the business he’d spent a lifetime building. He was sixty-eight years old. Thank goodness he still had his health. He could carry on at the helm of Halloran Industries another decade—at least that’s the way he felt in the mornings with the whole day stretched out ahead of him.
The truth of the matter was, though, it was past time to give his son and grandson their chance. He’d first taught Kevin and then Jason the best he could, and now it was time to turn over the reins.
Maybe if he had a different personality, he could keep a hand in, stay in the background. He knew
himself well enough, though, to realize that as long as he entered that building, he’d never be able to keep still about the decisions being made inside it. The only way for Kevin and Jason to put their own stamp on Halloran Industries would be for Brandon to walk away and not look back.
Damned if he knew how, though. What the devil would he do with all those long, lonely hours? Travel? What was the fun in seeing the world if there was no one to share the experiences with? He could read, play a little golf, but that would never fill up enough hours. His mind would atrophy in a month without the daily challenge of running his company, without the fun of finding some new fabric to design and work into Halloran Industries’ line of quality textiles.
Brandon’s “whims,” Kevin and Jason called them. Yet those whims had kept their company thriving. They’d given him a reason to go on during the bleak days after Grace’s death. He’d had some dandy adventures searching for ways to upgrade fabrics so that designers the world over would seek his company out for their richest, most sophisticated customers. The thought of giving all that up left Brandon feeling lost.
Well, he’d just have to make it work. It wasn’t fair to hang on forever, not when his son and grandson had both long since proven their worth.
Brandon studied the scrap of paper he held in his hand and wondered if it had the answer.
Just before he’d left the office, he’d finally gotten a call from the detective he’d hired a few months back. Hiring the man had been an impulsive action, one of those spur-of-the-moment, middle-of-the-lonely-night decisions that didn’t make a bit of sense in the cold light of day. Still, he’d gone ahead with it, caught up in a need to finally know, after all these years, what had happened to the one woman he’d never been able to forget. He was sure his beloved Grace would forgive him this bit of foolishness.
“Lizzy,” he’d scrawled and then a phone number somewhere in Southern California. Elizabeth Forsythe Newton. It had been Elizabeth Forsythe when they’d met nearly a half century ago. Now, according to the detective, she’d been widowed five years, had two daughters and three grandchildren. She still taught school, substituting now, not full-time. She attended church on Sunday, went to an occasional movie. If there was a man in her life, the detective had made no mention of it. He’d promised to mail his complete report in the morning.
Brandon couldn’t ask the detective the one question that was uppermost in his mind: did she remember those long-ago days they had shared, at all? Time blurred most things, but for him the memory of those days with Lizzy were every bit as vivid now as they had been hours or even weeks after they’d occurred. Not even a long and happy marriage had entirely erased thoughts of what might have been.
His housekeeper rapped on the door, then opened it. “Sir, your dinner is ready.”
Another depressingly lonely meal, he thought and then made up his mind. “I know it’s late, but can you hold it a bit, Mrs. Farnsworth? There’s a phone call I need to make.”
“Certainly, sir. A half hour?”
“That will be fine.”
Even before she’d quietly closed the door, he reached for the phone and punched in the numbers before he could change his mind.
As the phone rang more than three thousand miles away, Brandon thought back to the summer day he’d first seen Lizzy, racing hell-bent for leather along a cliff overlooking the Atlantic. Her auburn hair caught the sun and gleamed like fire. Her white cotton dress had been hiked up daringly above her knees as she ran barefoot through the damp morning grass. He had been stunned by her beauty, but it had been the sheer joy in her expression that had captivated him.
The image lingered as the phone was picked up.
“Yes, hello?” a tentative female voice said.
Brandon’s breath seemed to go still, as a powerful sense of déjà vu swept through him. The sweet, musical tone still held some little hint of bubbling laughter beneath the hesitancy. His heart, which had no business doing such things at his age, lurched and took up a quickened rhythm.
“Elizabeth Forsythe? Lizzy, is that you?”
He heard the faint gasp, then the whispered shock of recognition. “Brandon?”
“Yes, Lizzy, it’s me. Brandon Halloran. Do you remember? It’s been so long.”
“I remember,” she said, her voice sounding oddly choked. “You were the only one who ever called me that. Where on earth are you?”
“In Boston.”
“How did you find me?”
He thought back to how hard he’d tried all those years ago, only to have her prove elusive. This time he’d taken no chances, spared no expense. “I hired a very smart detective.”
“A detective? Oh, my. Why on earth would you do that after all this time?”
Elizabeth sounded nervous, maybe even troubled. It puzzled him, but he dismissed it as nothing more than the surprise of hearing from him out of the blue like this.
“Maybe I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice. You sound exactly the same, as if someone’s just told you something that made you want to laugh. I’ve missed you, Lizzy. How are you? Are you well?”
He knew the answer to that much at least, but he was afraid it was far too soon to ask her the questions he really wanted to ask. Most important, he needed to know why she hadn’t waited for him.
As they talked, hesitantly at first and then with their old enthusiasm, the years slid away. They were simply two old friends catching up. Haunting memories came back to Brandon as he listened, then were replaced by sorrow as she described so many experiences they hadn’t shared.
“You’ve been out there how long now?” he asked.
“Since 1942.”
“The year we met.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “The year we met.”
Was there a note of wistfulness in her response? “Tell me about your life. You have children?” he asked, needing to hear her confirm every word in the detective’s report.
“Yes, two daughters. They’re grown now. The oldest, that’s Ellen, is married and has three children herself. The youngest, that’s Kate, has a real streak of independence. She claims no man will ever tie her down.”
“Like her mother, if I recall correctly,” he said, imagining another redhead with a fiery temper and the strength of her convictions. Brandon wondered if meeting Lizzy’s daughters would be like traveling back in time.
Lizzy laughed. “She’d never believe you, if she heard you say that. She says she’s not a bit like me, that I’m old-fashioned.”
“That’s certainly not the way I remember you.”
He heard her quiet sigh and wondered at the faint hint of regret it held.
“Brandon, we knew each other for such a short time. I suspect neither of us remembers those days with much accuracy.”
“But you have thought of them?” he prodded, waving off Mrs. Farnsworth’s second attempt to call him to dinner.
“Some, yes,” Lizzy admitted. “I can’t deny that.”
“What do you remember?”
“That we were very young and very foolish.”
“That’s not the way I remember it at all,” he said. “I remember that we were very much in love, that from the first instant I saw you I was enchanted.”
“I think it’s best if we don’t talk about those days, Brandon. A lifetime has passed since then.” Her voice had cooled.
Brandon released a sigh. “So you do regret it. I’m sorry, Lizzy. I don’t regret one minute of that time we spent together. I can’t.”
“Tell me about your family,” she said in a sudden rush, as if she didn’t dare allow his nostalgic note to linger. “You have children?”
He thought of refusing to be turned from the past to the present, then decided there was nothing to be gained from pressing her to look back. Not yet, anyway.
“I have a son, Kevin. He’s taking over Halloran Industries soon.”
“You’re retiring?”
“I’m thinking of it.”
“Somehow I th
ought you’d never walk away from that company. You always loved it so, almost as much as flying. Do you still collect fabric samples the way some kids back then collected stamps?”
“I not only collect them, I improve on them.”
“Okay. Of course,” she said, laughing. “I’d forgotten how self-confident you are.”
“I suspect conceited is what you meant,” he said, laughing with her. “Oh, Lizzy, how I’ve missed that sharp wit of yours. You never let me get away with a thing.”
“It seems to me you got away with plenty,” she said tartly.
The sly innuendo had Brandon chuckling again. That was the Lizzy of old, all right. She’d never been one to dance around the truth of things. He’d never known anyone else like her back then. Bold and sassy, she’d kept him constantly off balance, a rare occurrence for a man who even at eighteen had been pretty darned sure of himself.
“Lizzy, I want to see you again. I’ll fly out tomorrow,” he said, suddenly anxious to end a separation that never should have been. “We’ll have ourselves a grand reunion. You can show me all the sights. Maybe we’ll even go to Disneyland and pretend we’re just a couple of kids again.”
Silence greeted the suggestion, then, “No. Absolutely not. I’m sorry, Brandon.”
“But, Lizzy, we owe it to ourselves. For old times’ sake,” he coaxed. “What’s the harm?”
“No, Brandon,” she said, her tone suddenly cold and forbidding in a way it never had been before. “It’s best to leave the past where it belongs, in the past.”
The phone clicked quietly, cutting him off. He called back immediately, only to get a busy signal. He tried again and again throughout the evening, but by midnight he knew she wasn’t going to take his call.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, staring at the phone. No little slip of a woman was going to thwart his dreams. Not a second time. Surely if Lizzy remembered him at all, she remembered that he liked nothing better than the challenge of a chase.
* * *
For what seemed like hours, Elizabeth sat staring at the phone, the receiver defiantly left off the hook. No, she corrected. It wasn’t defiance. It was sheer terror. Brandon Halloran made her feel things—crazy, impossible things—she hadn’t felt in years.
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