by Marie Force
Hannah hugged her grandfather. “You thought of everything.”
He kissed her forehead and returned the hug. “Nothing but the best for our Homer and our Hannah.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Landon took care of the marker,” he said of her younger brother who’d inherited his woodworking skills from Elmer. “He said to tell you he’ll bring it with him later.”
“You guys are the best.”
“You ready for all of this?” he asked, gesturing to the yard that was littered with chairs and coolers and the keg of beer her father had generously donated and had delivered the day before.
“As ready as I ever am. It’ll be fun and a bit sad, but mostly fun.”
“Any time you feel too sad, you come find me and we’ll go for a walk. I’ve got a whole bunch of new jokes I’ve been saving up for just such an occasion.”
“You got it,” Hannah said, charmed by him.
Clearing his throat, he looked down at her, his face unusually serious. “I need to say this because it’s been on my mind a lot lately, and I believe in telling people how I feel about them.” He took a moment to gather himself. “I’m awfully proud of you, Hannah. Not just for the way you’ve gotten through the worst thing life could’ve handed you, but because you keep doing things like this that keep Caleb alive for all of us who loved him, despite how hard it must be on you. I wanted to tell you I admire you more than just about anyone I know.”
“Gramps,” she whispered, moved by his heartfelt words. “That means the world to me coming from you.”
He hugged and kissed her again. “Now enough of the mushy stuff. When does the party start?”
She laughed at his attempt to change the subject. “I expect the invasion to begin around four.”
“I’ll be back by five.”
“It wouldn’t be a party without you.” She gestured to the gorgeous box that contained their darling Homer. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“It was an honor and a privilege, my love.” He kissed her cheek again and was gone before both of them could dissolve into tears.
As Hannah ran her hand over the smooth finish, she noticed the engraved metal plaque her grandfather had affixed to the box.
HOMER GUTHRIE
A good and faithful companion
who was much loved by his people,
Caleb and Hannah Guthrie,
and everyone who knew him.
May he rest in peace.
The simple perfection of the words her grandfather had chosen reduced Hannah to tears. Caleb would definitely approve.
Newlyweds Austin and Debra were the first to arrive and greeted her warmly, expressing their sorrow over Homer’s death. Both were blond and athletic and well suited to each other. Before their wedding last year, Austin had confided in her how difficult it was to marry someone Caleb had never gotten to meet. Hannah had assured him that Caleb would’ve loved Debra, who was absolutely perfect for Caleb’s oldest friend. The two army brats had met in kindergarten at Fort Stewart and remained close until the day Caleb died.
Austin produced a bottle of Jägermeister from his suitcase and handed it proudly to Hannah, who cringed. Jäger was one of the more foul Sultan traditions. “Awesome,” she said dryly.
Debra laughed in solidarity. “I suggested that maybe we’ve outgrown Jäger, but my thoughts were shot down.”
“I imagine they were,” Hannah said. “I’ve been fighting that battle for years to no avail.”
“One of these days they have to grow up, don’t they?” Debra asked as she followed Hannah to the kitchen with a tray of brownies she’d packed in bubble wrap in her suitcase.
“Never!” Austin said as he brought up the rear.
The others arrived in waves over the next two hours—Turk and his girlfriend, Cicily; Mark and his brother Chris; Ethan; Liam; Josh and his wife, Ava; Jack and his guitar; Dylan and his fiancée, Sophia, who seemed overwhelmed by her first official dose of the rowdy Sultans. They ran the gamut from childhood friends to high school to college to hockey to the army.
They’d met through Caleb and become closer than brothers to each other during years of adventures dreamed up by their fearless leader. They’d continued their traditions in the years since they lost him. And now they came together to say good-bye to Homer and to remember Caleb on the seventh anniversary of his death.
Gavin came in carrying a huge pan of chicken wings that he swore he’d made himself, kissing Hannah’s cheek and looking at her for signs of residual damage.
But Hannah felt nothing other than happy to see him—and delighted to razz him about the wings she knew for a fact he’d bought and made to look homemade.
Her family showed up with food and beer and champagne and yet another bottle of Jäger donated by Will. Hannah put him in charge of getting the fire started in the pit.
Nolan was almost the last to arrive, all apologies about an emergency road call just as he was closing down for the weekend.
Since they had the kitchen to themselves for the moment, he gave her a lingering kiss and studied her intently. “How’re you holding up?”
“So far so good. It’s always great to see everyone.” She looked up at him. “I’m going to tell them about us tonight so there’s no chance for gossip or speculation. Okay?”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”
She curled her hand around his nape and brought him in for another kiss before they went outside to join the party.
As it always did, the Friday night gathering turned into a rager with the booze flowing freely and the food mostly overlooked because everyone was too busy talking and catching up to take time to eat. Before she lost them all to alcohol-induced stupor, Hannah clinked a rock on her beer bottle to quiet the crowd.
They focused their solemn attention on her, as they always did when she requested a moment of their time.
“I want to thank you all for coming on somewhat short notice to honor Homer. As you well know, this is exactly what Caleb would’ve done if he had outlived his beloved Homie. And I have to thank Nolan for coming up with the idea for an over-the-top Sultans funeral.”
A round of cheers followed her statement and everyone raised their bottles in a toast to Nolan, who laughed and shrugged off their praise. He’d stayed close to her side all evening, providing steady support and comfort that Hannah appreciated even though he didn’t get close enough to start any tongues wagging. Which had led to the second half of her impromptu speech. She’d given this a lot of thought and had decided to learn from her mistake with Gavin by coming clean about Nolan at the beginning of the weekend.
“The other thing I want to say is I have a bit of news I want to share with you.”
Nolan glanced at her, sending a supportive smile.
Hannah reached for his hand, and he offered it willingly, curling his fingers around hers in a move that drew the attention of everyone gathered around the fire pit.
“Nolan and I have been seeing each other lately.” She added that last word, lately, intentionally, lest there be any doubt about when their relationship actually began. “We’re very happy together, and I hope all of you can find it in your hearts to be happy for us. That’s all I wanted to say. Carry on.”
A murmur of surprise went through the group before Turk, known for his boisterous laugh and irreverent sense of humor, raised his bottle in salute. “To our patron saint, Hannah, who has weathered the storm and kept us around despite our horrendously bad manners, may you know many days of happiness with our brother Nolan. You deserve every good thing that comes your way.”
“Hear, hear,” Dylan said.
Jack began to strum his guitar to the tune of their theme song, “Sultans of Swing,” and soon everyone was singing at the top of their lungs.
“Well,” Hannah said to Nolan, leaning in close to him so he could hear her over the din, “that went well.”
“I guess we’re now officially out of the closet.”
“Looks that way. No going back.”
“Wouldn’t go back for all the tea in China.”
She could tell by the way he looked at her that he desperately wanted to kiss her. “Save it for later,” she whispered. They’d decided he would spend the weekend at her house, and they were counting on the drunken antics of the others to get away with their plan.
“I’ve got lots of things saved up for later,” he said with a playful waggle of his brows.
Hannah shivered with delight and relief that she’d shared their news with Caleb’s closest friends and gotten over that hurdle unscathed, thanks to Turk’s kind words of support. She relaxed into her chair, but kept her firm grip on Nolan’s hand. For the first time in seven years, she didn’t feel like her heart was breaking all over again as she sat in the midst of Caleb’s band of brothers.
Rather, she felt a whole new chapter was beginning—one that paid tribute to the past while holding out hope for a future filled with love and joy.
CHAPTER 24
Caleb’s Sultans are coming for the weekend. Gavin organized the gathering, and he asked if they could have it here because it’s tradition. How could I say no? I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, but I can’t imagine what it’ll be like without Caleb in the middle of everything. Nolan came over today with firewood and helped me set up. He’s been such an amazing friend through all of this—he’s always THERE, but he doesn’t overwhelm me the way some people do. I appreciate him more than he knows.
—From the diary of Hannah Abbott Guthrie, age twenty-nine
It was nearly three the next morning before the fire was doused and all of Hannah’s guests were settled. Her family had gone home for the night, promising to be back for Homer’s official funeral at two the next afternoon. Gavin had crashed on the sofa in the sitting room, and after she covered him with a blanket, Hannah led Nolan up the back stairs from the kitchen to her bedroom on the second floor. He carried a duffel bag and garment bag hooked over his shoulder.
She expected to encounter someone in the hallway, but no one was around as they entered her room. Hannah closed and locked the door behind them, grateful as always for the bathroom that adjoined her room.
“Finally alone,” Nolan said as he tossed his bags into a chair and kissed her with hours of desire pouring forth in an embrace that landed them on her bed in a tangle of limbs. The scent of smoke from the fire pit filled the air around them.
Hannah laughed at his bumbling efforts to free her from her clothes without missing a beat with the kiss.
“Stop laughing and help me.”
She only laughed harder at his dismay, but she took off her sweater and wiggled out of her jeans with all due haste.
“Better,” he said, stopping her when she would’ve unhooked her bra. “Let me.” His index finger traced a path from her chin to her throat and down to hook his finger over the front clasp of her bra. “All night long, the only thing I could seem to think about was how lucky I was to get to be alone with you later. For a while there, I thought later might never come, but these guys aren’t as young as they once were, and thankfully they hit the wall earlier than they used to.”
“I’ve noticed you don’t try to keep up with them when it comes to drinking.” He’d often been the one helping her to get Caleb to bed after a big night with the Sultans. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know. It’s never been necessary for me to get totally loaded to have a good time.”
“That’s certainly music to my ears.”
“I’d imagine it would be.” Nolan leaned over her and kissed the upper slopes of both breasts. “You were amazing telling the guys about us.”
“After what happened with Gavin, I wanted to do a preemptive strike so we could relax and enjoy the weekend.”
“You were perfect.”
“Did anyone say anything to you about it?”
“Just a few slaps on the back and a couple of innocent questions, nothing disrespectful though. How about you?”
“Same. They were naturally curious, but overall happy for me—and for us.”
“I’m very happy for us,” he said with a big grin that exposed the adorable dimple in his left cheek.
“I am, too.” She thought of the episode the night before and the many questions she longed to ask him.
“What’s with the frown? That doesn’t look happy to me.”
“I am happy. You know I am.”
“Except?”
“Let’s talk about it another time. After the weekend.”
“No, let’s talk about it now.”
“Please? It can wait. I promise, it’s nothing awful.” She ran her fingers through his hair and down to curl around his neck. “I’m all talked out after today, and besides, you got me all warmed up when you were pulling at my clothes . . .”
His mouth lifted into a half smile. “Did I?”
“You know you did.”
“I can’t let all that warmth go to waste.”
“You really shouldn’t.”
With the snap of his fingers, her bra sprung open, and she forgot about everything other than the sweet pleasure she found in his arms.
At promptly two o’clock the next afternoon, the usually rowdy Sultans appeared in suits and ties. They’d showered and shaved and even combed their hair for the occasion. While Hannah was touched by their coordinated effort, it reminded her a little too much of another memorial service, seven years ago when they’d come together to honor Caleb.
As Nolan came downstairs dressed in a navy suit with a light blue shirt and red tie, Hannah’s breath caught at how gorgeous he looked. “Clearly you guys have been making plans behind the scenes,” she said as she laid her hands over his lapels.
“We wanted to show our respect to Homer—and to you.”
“You’re all too much,” she said, shaking her head in amazement and love for the friends who’d come from near and far for the occasion.
“Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He kissed her cheek and left the scent of his appealing aftershave behind as he took her hand. “Hold on to me. I’ve got you.”
Grateful for his support, Hannah held on tight to his hand as they walked out to join the others. The scattering of chairs from the night before had been organized into rows on the lawn. Homer’s casket had been given a place of honor at the front of the assemblage, and the Sultans were welcoming a flood of people from town.
“Oh wow,” she whispered as she saw the size of the crowd.
“People wanted to come,” Nolan said simply.
On a stool next to where Homer’s casket had been laid, Jack strummed out a slow, reverent version of “Ventura Highway,” another of Caleb’s favorite songs from his time in Southern California. Jack had played the same rendition of the song at Caleb’s memorial, so the tune immediately brought tears to Hannah’s eyes.
Her parents arrived with her grandfather, followed a short time later by Caleb’s parents. All her brothers had worn suits and ties, Hannah realized as they trickled in one by one. Cameron, Ella and Charley had dressed up, too. Becky and Hannah’s other Thursday afternoon friends were there, along with Myles Johansen, Mrs. Hendricks, everyone from the store and Hannah’s beading friends from the craft guild. People brought chairs and covered dishes they put on a table someone had put by the arbor that led into her backyard.
“Oh my God,” Nolan muttered as Skeeter came in with Dude, both of them wearing suits and ties and solemn expressions.
Hannah could feel Nolan trying hard to hold back laughter, and the tension inside her eased when she realized all these people had come mostly for her—and many of them had come for Caleb, too. She had asked Turk to be master of ceremonies, and when the people finally stopped coming, he stood before them, handsome in a dark gray suit and burgundy tie.
“Friends, on behalf of Hannah, I thank you for being here today to celebrate the life of our dear departed Homer Guthr
ie. For more than sixteen years, Homer was the faithful companion of first Caleb Guthrie, then Caleb and Hannah, and most recently Hannah. I happened to be with Caleb the day he found Homer abandoned by the side of the road. He brought him home, washed days of filth off the poor boy and fed him the first good meal he’d had in a long time. During the course of that first night, Caleb gained a loyal friend who remained by his side for the rest of his life. In typical Caleb style, however, he set out to find the rightful owner, knowing that’s what he would want if he’d somehow managed to lose his dog. Little did Caleb know then that Homer had finally found his way home to the place he was always meant to live and the person he was meant to live with.
“Caleb used to say that people are either dog people, or they aren’t. ‘There’s really no gray area’ he would say. Caleb was a dog person. More to the point, he was a Homer person. Hannah told me this week that it’s given her comfort to think of Homer crossing the rainbow bridge and jumping into Caleb’s waiting arms. Ever since she shared that thought with me, it’s given me comfort, too. The loss of Homer is the end of an era for all of us who loved him and Caleb. May they live together forever in the kingdom of heaven, where no one ever dies and there’s never a shortage of beer or dog biscuits.”
Laughter, applause and tears followed Turk’s comments.
Hannah gratefully took the handkerchief that Nolan offered and dabbed at her eyes.
“Hannah has asked Gavin to say a few words about Homer,” Turk said, “and after that, anyone else who wishes to speak is more than welcome to. Gav?”
Wearing a pinstripe suit with a white dress shirt and a tie that had belonged to Caleb, Gavin made his way to the front of the gathering. He rested a hand on Homer’s box before turning to face the audience.
“The news of Homer’s passing brought back a lot of memories I’d sooner forget. I’m sure many of you felt the same way. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last seven years, there’s no such thing as outrunning grief. It manages to find you no matter where you hide and makes you do stupid things you immediately regret.” This was said directly to Hannah and Nolan.
