Returning Home

by Karen Whiddon

  Jeff burst out the back door like a quarterback running the last ten yards to touchdown, a worried Charlene close on his heels. One look at his vibrant green eyes told Hope that he’d remembered something else, something important. Though she pasted a smile on her face, her heart sank. Any moment now she expected the questions to begin, questions she couldn’t and wouldn’t answer.

  “Come on.” He grabbed her hand, gently tugging her towards him. Feet dragging, she let him, shaking her head at Charlene’s almost comical puzzled expression.

  “What on earth is going on?” Hands on her hips, Charlene stepped in front of them, blocking their path. “Jeff, tell me. What is it?”

  His mouth curved into a smile so beautiful it knocked the wind from Hope.

  “They’ve started rebuilding the hardware store,” he said, beaming. “The lumber was delivered yesterday and the framing crew is there now.”

  Charlene’s expression brightened. “That’s wonderful.”

  Relieved, Hope let her breath out, startled to realize she’d been holding it. They were rebuilding the hardware store, that’s all. It wasn’t something pertaining to the past, something that might make Jeff demand answers she wasn’t prepared to give.

  “Great,” she echoed. “I want to go see it.” With her eyes she begged him to pretend that morning, and the explosive heat of their kiss, had never happened.

  He dipped his head, understanding her without words, exactly as he used to back in the days when they’d been so close. He continued to watch her. “Let’s go.”

  Still, Hope hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to be alone again with Jeff. “Would you like to come along, Charlene?” She hoped Charlene would hear the desperation in her voice and agree.

  “No, no.” Lifting a hand to her hair, Charlene shook her head. “I have things to do here. I’ll go by and look at it some other time.”

  “Come on,” Jeff repeated, impatience rippling through his voice. Gundy steering her towards the door, he lifted a hand in goodbye to his sister. The picture of detached solicitousness, he opened the truck door for Hope, helped her up, and closed it behind her. When he slid behind the wheel, his affable air vanished. He turned in his seat, his eyes hot and hungry.

  Despite her resolve not to let him affect her, Hope felt a tremor begin inside. “Don’t,” she told him, forcing herself to look away.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  It was frightening how such a simple statement could knock the breath from her. Clenching her hands into fists so tightly her nails dug into her palm, Hope shook her head. “No.”

  Saying nothing further, he started the engine, shifted into drive, and headed downtown.

  What the hell had possessed him? Furious at himself, Jeff concentrated on driving, trying not to think of the beautiful, sensual woman in the seat beside him. But he couldn’t help it. She’d melted into him like warm honey when he had kissed her and aroused him to such a fevered pitch he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Even though she said she didn’t want him, her body gave lie to her words. Even now, her hardened nipples showed her desire. He clenched the steering wheel, controlling the fierce urge to touch her.

  When he’d gone home that morning, he’d tamped down the desire easily enough. He’d made some coffee and taken a seat in his favorite easy chair. Like a fool, he’d sat there, waiting, trusting that the rest of his memory would come.

  Instead, he’d been tormented by sensual images of Hope, whether remembered or imagined, he didn’t know. He’d been hard and throbbing all day, despite the cold shower he had taken.

  He made a right turn onto Second Street. “There,” he said, pointing, “they’ve got the basic framework up.”

  She flashed him a quick look, no doubt wondering at the gruffness of his voice, then turned to see where he pointed. “Just like before,” she said, and her soft, throaty voice was nearly his undoing.

  Fumbling with the door handle, he got out of the truck. This time, he didn’t bother to open her door, knowing that if he got too close to her, his body would be too hard—too hard to walk. He strode to the construction foreman, knowing his smile looked more like a grimace.

  “Looking good.” He gave a thumbs up to the foreman. Behind him, he heard the quiet slam of Hope’s door. The foreman glanced at Jeff, then past him, his widened eyes and broad smile telling plainly as words what he thought of Hope.

  Jeff ignored the strange urge he had to punch the man in the face. He couldn’t really blame the man; if memory served, he’d had much the same reaction himself.

  He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as Hope came up beside him. His temperature went up two degrees when she touched his arm.

  “This is wonderful.” Her earnest tone told him she meant it. “It’ll be exactly the same, only new.”

  Not trusting himself to speak, Jeff stared at her hand and nodded. Suddenly, the image of her hand blurred and instead he saw a ring—a beautiful, dainty ring, of sparkling gold entwined in a lover’s knot. Set in die middle was one perfect marquis diamond.

  He saw the ring he’d bought ten years ago, when he’d planned to place it on her finger. The gold band she’d worn on a chain around her neck had only been a hint of what was to come. He’d personally designed it after hours spent scribbling and doodling' with paper and pencil.

  He saw the ring he’d never given her, because she’d left town without giving them a chance to patch things up.

  He saw the ring he still had, tucked away in his closet, still in the box.

  “Jeff?” Hope’s voice, concerned and anxious, broke through his haze. “Are you all right?”

  He shook his head to clear it, conscious of the clean, light scent of her, and of her hand, still resting casually on his arm.

  “Fine.” Though it cost him, he moved away, pretending not to care if she followed.

  “Look!” Her voice, high with excitement, came from over to his left

  “Be careful there, ma’am.” The foreman sounded anxious.

  Jeff turned, his heart jumping into his throat as he spied Hope helping two workers raise a section of wall. He forced himself to hold silent while watching her laugh and joke with the workers, finally releasing the wall to be nailed into place. When she turned to Jeff, her color was high, her eyes sparkled.

  “This is going to be wonderful!” With a sweeping arm, she indicated the area that would be the main floor of the store.

  He tried to catch some of her enthusiasm, but all he could seem to concentrate on was her vibrant, sensual beauty. He felt his body stir, and he shifted his weight while cursing under his breath.

  “Let’s go.” Crossing the space between them in a few strides, he grabbed her arm.

  “What’s wrong?” Her lovely eyes widened. She glanced pointedly at his fingers on her arm, making him realize that he might be hurting her.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, ashamed and aching, wishing that this part of his memory, the part that knew her and desired her, had stayed away until he had the rest

  She watched him expectantly, waiting for an answer to her question.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Jeff forced himself to smile, feeling like his face was cracking. “It’s time to go.”

  He expected her to argue, or question him at the very least but instead she nodded once and led the way toward the truck.

  When he climbed in beside her, she stared out the window, her chin jutting out in a gesture that told him she was sulking. Actually, he owed her an explanation. She had been kind enough to accompany him, even after he’d practically assaulted her that morning.

  “I don’t know...” He let his voice trail off, searching for the words to explain. How could he tell her how much he wanted her, needed her, desired her?

  How could he tell her that he remembered buying her a ring? How could he tell her he remembered the ring she used to wear on a chain around her neck, the promises they’d given one another?

  How could he tell her any of thes
e things, knowing that there was more to their story than he could remember? How could he tell her that he knew he’d somehow hurt her badly enough to cause her to leave?

  So, instead of trying to explain, he let silence speak for him. When he dropped her off at his sister’s house, he politely declined her invitation to come inside, settling instead for the clean loneliness of his farm.

  Chapter Eight

  The next week seemed to fly by. Each time she saw Jeff, which was always brief, he treated her with an impersonal civility. She responded in kind, avoiding Charlene’s puzzled gaze. For all Hope knew, Jeff had regained more of his memory, though he didn’t mention it and she didn’t ask.

  Before she knew it, Saturday had rolled around. Charlene and Hope had plans to go shopping in Amarillo. Hope found herself looking forward to it. She hadn’t gone shopping with a woman friend in ages.

  When they walked outside, Clay’s bright red Suburban sat in the driveway.

  “Clay loaned it to me,” Charlene said, laughing at Hope’s startled look.

  Hope settled back into the plush seat and buckled in. The car seat in the back was empty. She felt a pang, remembering her own daughter.

  “Ready?” Fluffing her hair, Charlene pushed in a CD. The soulful voice of Vince Gill filled the cab. “I think we should have Mexican food for lunch, how about you?”

  “It’s nine o’clock in the morning!” Hope groaned. “I can’t even think about lunch this early.”

  “I can.” Laughing, Charlene cast Hope a sly glance and patted her tummy. “After two weeks of dieting, I plan to splurge. Clay says he likes me better plump, can you believe it?”

  “Really?” Speaking softly, hoping her voice didn’t betray her inner turmoil, Hope eyed Charlene’s slender figure. “You look beautiful to me. Are you and Clay ... an item?”

  “Well-11...” Charlene drew the word out, making it into two long, soulful syllables. “He’s asked me to marry him.”

  “Oh.” Once, she would have grilled Charlene for details. But ten years had passed, and she didn’t want to pry. “That’s great.” She knew she sounded lame and wished she could drum up more enthusiasm for her friend.

  “Oh?” Charlene watched her with a wry puzzlement on her face. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “I don’t want to be nosy.” Her explanation was weak, even to her own ears. “Knowing you, you’ll tell me anyway.”

  “Damn straight,” Charlene laughed. “I decided to wait to give him an answer. I want to surprise him at the class reunion.” She spoke with the true confidence of a woman who knew she was loved. Charlene drummed her long, red nails on the steering wheel in time to the music. “He wants to have a little brother or sister for Derek.”

  Hope felt her heart break. “That’s great” Once Hope had wanted two or three kids, back when she’d thought she’d known what the future would hold, back when she’d been young and foolish and a dreamer. Before she’d had her beloved daughter snatched from her by a fate too cruel to imagine. She no longer allowed herself to dream.

  “What about you?” Her curiosity casual, Charlene continued to watch the road. “Do you ever plan to have any kids?”

  “No.” Hope’s answer came too quickly, she knew, the word slipping out as panic engulfed her. She forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, striving for calm. Charlene didn’t know, couldn’t know, wouldn’t ever know the truth.

  Charlene glanced at her, her expression startled. “No?” she asked. “Just like that?”

  “I’m too busy to have kids.” Hope’s voice sounded even, unruffled. “Besides, I teach third grade. I am with kids all day during the week.”

  “I heard it’s different when they’re your own,” Charlene said softly. “My friends say they can’t begin to describe the bond, the trust and sense of dependence.”

  Though Hope was intimately familiar with all of those things, and more, she couldn’t let her friend know. “Hmmm.”

  The CD ended. Charlene replaced it with another. They rode in silence for a while, both of them humming along to the familiar tunes.

  “How’s Jeff?” Charlene finally broke the silence, as Hope had known she would. “Is he remembering anything else?”

  Relieved at the change of subject, Hope nodded. “This and that.” Her face heated as she realized exactly what Jeff had remembered.

  “Like what?”

  Hope swallowed, trying to think of something to relate that wasn’t emotionally charged. “He remembered things that morning when we went fishing. Things we used to, um, do.”

  “Really?” Charlene raised one eyebrow, a trick Hope used to envy when they’d been in high school. “Does he remember what else you used to do at the lake?”

  Hope felt her blush deepen.

  Seeing this, Charlene laughed. “I see that he does. I still remember all those stories you used to tell me. That stuff used to make for a scorching diary. Do you still have yours?”

  “Somewhere,” Hope shrugged, as if she didn’t know that her diary was in a box on a shelf in her closet “It’s been years since I looked at it”

  “I looked at mine yesterday.” Giggling, Charlene shook her head. “The stuff we used to do. Without a single thought for the consequences.”

  Wishing there was some way she could avoid having the past dredged up, Hope leaned forward and pointed. “Isn’t that the exit to Amarillo?”

  “Yep.” Charlene flipped on her blinker, grinning. “And if that’s meant to change the subject I won’t. I like reminiscing with you.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve Jeff.”

  Evidently believing Hope was joking, Charlene laughed again. “Honey, everything you did in those days involved Jeff.”

  Knowing she was right, Hope closed her eyes. “I know,” she sighed. “But I’d rather not talk about him.”

  After exiting, Charlene stopped the Suburban at a red light. Turning in her seat to face Hope, she sighed. “Are you still hung up on him?”

  Hope started to shake her head, tempted at first to lie. “I don’t know,” she heard herself saying instead. “I do know that being with him now hurts nearly as much as it did ten years ago.”

  “You’ve never forgiven him!” Charlene exclaimed. “Hope, what he did was a typical, stupid teenager’s mistake. He was drunk, for Pete’s sake. You need to let it go.”

  Let it go? The urge to spill it all suddenly seemed overwhelming. Charlene wouldn’t tell anyone; after all, they’d been best friends for years. Once they’d shared everything. Everything. And Charlene had never told.

  “I had a—” Hope’s voice came out hoarse, raw. Swallowing, she cleared her throat and tried again. “I had a baby. His baby. A daughter. A little girl. Alisha.” There. She’d said it. Trembling, heart pounding, Hope twisted her hands in her lap and waited to hear Charlene’s response.

  It came immediately. The big Suburban swerved as Charlene muttered unladylike curses under her breath. Hope gulped and waited for her life to flash before her eyes. When Charlene finally got the vehicle under control, she pulled over to the shoulder and slammed on her brakes.

  “You what?”

  To her dismay, Hope’s eyes filled with tears. “I had a little girl.” She couldn’t look at her friend. “She would have been ten next March.”

  “A little girl,” Charlene mused. She turned huge, round eyes on Hope. “Ten years old,” she echoed. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, would have been?”

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, Hope made no effort to wipe them away. “She died, Charlene. My little girl died.”

  Charlene reached for her and pulled her close in a hug. “My God, I’m sorry. So sorry. How ... what ... why?”

  It took a moment while Hope wrestled with her emotions. Though it had been nearly five years, time had not blunted the anguish. Sniffling, she pulled back. Charlene handed her a tissue and she swiped at her eyes.

  “My mascara is ruined now.” Hope gave Charlene a watery smile. “I’ll need
to fix it before we go shopping.”

  Charlene nodded slowly.

  “When I left here, I was a month pregnant,” Hope began. “I didn’t know it yet, though. All I knew was that the boy I loved had betrayed me and I needed to get away from him, from this place, as quickly as possible. I was accepted at U.T. Austin and I arrived at College Station before the ink dried on my high school diploma.”

  “Jeff was gonna go to A&M.” Charlene murmured. “I never told Jeff.” Hope lifted her chin, pleading with her friend to understand. “He never came after me, you see, so I figured he didn’t care. After all, he’d been wooed by at least six universities. What guy looking at a possible career in pro football wants to be saddled with a wife and baby?”

  “Oh, honey. You’re wrong. He would have—”

  “I know.” Holding up her hand as if to ward off blows, Hope sighed. “I was wrong. I know that now. By the way,” she tilted her head, looking curiously at her friend, “even though you told me what happened with your dad, I don’t understand why Jeff didn’t go on to college.”

  Charlene looked at her strangely. “You really don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Jeff’s entire life changed. You know how he had all those offers for football scholarships?”

  Hope nodded.

  “He couldn’t take them. Any of them. Mom fell apart, I was stuck in an unhappy marriage, so it was up to Jeff.” Voice bleak, Charlene continued. “He stepped right in and ran that hardware store like it was all he ever wanted out of life.”

  “He gave up his dreams?” Hope could scarcely fathom it. All Jeff had ever wanted to do was play football. He’d had more than a fighting chance, too. To this day, he still held the state record for completed passes.

  “He kept saying you would be back, that it was just a misunderstanding.” Ruthless, Charlene leaned closer. “He kept that up for maybe six months. One day, he stopped saying it. He never mentioned your name after that.”

  Odd, Hope thought with a strange sense of detachment. Knowing that, even though it was ten years in the past, still cut her to the quick.