A Father For Zach

by Irene Hannon

  “Mom said I could come out and watch for you.”

  He glanced toward the house and spotted Catherine at the window, half-hidden behind the drapes. She was obviously still fighting the protective instincts that compelled her to keep a too-tight tether on Zach. But he gave her high marks for making an effort to subdue them. As far as he knew, she’d never let Zach go into the front yard alone. This was a big step forward.

  As he leaned the bike against the rails, Nathan reached into the wire basket behind the seat and withdrew a white bag. “Guess where I stopped?”

  Zach’s eyes lit up. “Downyflake!”

  “You got it.” He handed the bag over.

  “Wow! Doughnuts and cake all in one day!”

  “Isn’t ten o’clock a little early for cake?”

  “I haven’t had any yet. Mom baked it for our wrap party. She says you’re gonna finish today. By lunch, maybe?”

  “That sounds about right.” All he had to do was plane one sticky door and readjust a couple of baseboards that didn’t quite suit him. Other than that, the rooms were finished, giving Catherine three weeks to furnish and decorate them before her first guests were due to arrive.

  Retrieving his toolboxes, he set off for the breezeway. Catherine was waiting inside with a smile that brightened his day despite the dark clouds beginning to gather overhead.

  “I see you brought a treat.” She gestured to the white bag clutched in Zach’s hand.

  “I hear you made a cake.”

  “Sounds like we both have celebrations on our minds.”

  The soft blush that accompanied her words was charming. And so much more appealing than the in-your-face come-on moves Danielle had tried on him yesterday.

  Pushing the memory of that distasteful episode aside, he headed for the guest room on the left. “I don’t think it will take me more than an hour or two to finish up. Then we can get down to the important stuff. Like partying. Right, Zach?”

  “Yeah!” Digging into the white sack, he extracted a sugar doughnut. “Is it okay if I have one of these now, though, Mom?”

  “Sure. But in the kitchen. On a plate. I don’t want sugar all over my pristine guest quarters.”

  “What’s pristine?”

  She ushered him toward the kitchen. “Clean.”

  “Oh.” He gave up the fight and trotted toward the door, calling over his shoulder as Catherine guided him inside. “I’ll be out to help in a few minutes, Nathan.”

  “Okay, champ.”

  Five minutes later, when Nathan heard a noise behind him, he assumed it was Zach. But checking over his shoulder, he found Catherine instead. Her smile had vanished, and two parallel creases had appeared on her brow. A tingle of alarm raced up his spine, and he stood.

  “What’s wrong?” He took a step toward her. “Is Zach okay?”

  “Yes.” She gestured over her shoulder. “But there’s a police detective out front. He says he’s your brother.”

  J.C. was here?

  Now it was his turn to frown. “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know. He just asked to talk with you.”

  “Okay.” Nathan set down the hammer he’d been holding, his concern escalating. Maybe something had happened to Marci. Or Heather might be having problems with the baby that was due in six weeks. Or…

  Quashing his useless speculations, he eased past Catherine, laying a reassuring hand briefly on her shoulder. Then he cut through the breezeway and exited onto the front lawn. J.C. was waiting by his car, and he closed the distance between them in a few long strides.

  “What’s up? Is everyone okay?”

  “Yeah. We’re all fine. But I need to talk to you about a situation that came up this morning.”

  At J.C.’s somber demeanor and grim tone, a flicker of panic licked at Nathan’s gut. Just like the ones he used to feel when the law was closing in on him.

  Something bad was about to come down. He could taste it.

  A tremor ran through him. J.C.’s eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. “What’s wrong?”

  Every instinct in Nathan’s body screamed at him to run. It took a Herculean exercise of willpower to keep his feet planted on the ground. “You tell me. You might be my brother, but I’ve been around cops enough to know when there’s a problem.”

  Resting one fist on his hip, J.C. raked the fingers of his other hand through his hair. “I need to ask you a few questions, okay?”

  “As a brother or as a cop?” J.C. locked gazes with him. “Let’s be clear on one thing, Nathan. As a brother, I know there’s a reasonable explanation for what happened. But as a cop, I have a job to do. One of the other detectives should be handling this, but the chief and I go way back. He agreed to let me talk to you before this thing gets blown out of proportion.”

  “What thing?”

  “Where were you yesterday afternoon?”

  “In Monomoy. At the Prices’. Finishing up a job.”

  “Who was there?”

  Nathan tried not to let his distaste show on his face. “Danielle Price.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Did you see a diamond tennis bracelet lying on the table in the family room?”

  “No.”

  “Mrs. Price claims it was there yesterday afternoon. Now it’s not. She says the only person who’s been in the house other than her and her husband since she noticed it missing is you.”

  As the implication sank in, Nathan’s lungs froze. Early on, he’d pegged Danielle Price as a spoiled socialite who was used to getting her own way. And he knew she’d been angry when he’d rebuffed her advances.

  But the viciousness of her retaliation boggled his mind. From what she’d learned about him from searching the Internet, she’d known exactly how to make him pay for his offense. With his record, the police would not only consider him the prime suspect in the supposed theft, they’d assume he’d taken it.

  Nathan’s shock gave way to escalating anger. But before it swelled to fury, a far stronger emotion elbowed it aside.

  Terror.

  Given his record, this woman could make his life miserable. Maybe even get him sent back to prison.

  A wave of nausea swept over him, and he started to shake.

  Twin grooves appeared on J.C.’s brow. Stepping close, he grasped Nathan’s upper arms in a firm, steadying grip. “Take a deep breath.”

  He tried. But his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. “I didn’t…steal it, J.C.”

  “I believe you.”

  “No one else will. J.C., I can’t go back to prison.” He choked out the words. The mere thought of being confined again in a cage was enough to take the stiffening out of his legs. “I can’t!”

  “Don’t worry about that, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Pulling him into a bear hug, J.C. held on tight. Just as Catherine had done with Zach after his accident.

  But as Nathan had told Catherine once, no matter how hard you try to protect the ones you love, you don’t always succeed. In the end, you have to put them in God’s hands.

  And his instincts told him that in this situation, it might take God to put things right.

  From her spot in the breezeway, Catherine shivered as she watched the scene playing out in her front yard.

  Something was very wrong.

  Uncertainty gnawing at her, she wrapped her arms around herself and debated her options. Should she leave the two men alone, stay out of an exchange that might be none of her business? Or should she make it her business because she cared about Nathan and it was obvious he needed support—and perhaps comfort?

  In the end, J.C.’s bear hug gave her the impetus to get involved. Even from a distance, she could tell it was the kind of gesture reserved for grave emergencies.

  Checking on Zach, who’d wandered into the empty guest room where Nathan had been working, she pushed through the door and headed in their direction.

  Nathan’s back was to her as she approached, but
J.C. saw her coming. With a quiet word to his brother, followed by one more strong squeeze, he backed off a couple of steps.

  “I’m sorry…I don’t mean to intrude.” She stopped a few feet away. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying from the house, but it looked serious and I wondered if…is there anything I can do to help?”

  Nathan lifted his arm and brushed the sleeve of his T-shirt across his eyes before he turned to her.

  The devastation on his face drove the breath from her lungs, and she took an involuntary step forward as panic gripped her heart. “Nathan…what’s wrong?”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the dirt beneath his feet. “The woman I was working for yesterday afternoon reported a stolen diamond bracelet. She said I was the only stranger in the house since she’d last seen it.”

  Shock reverberated through her as the implications registered. “Is she accusing you of taking it?”

  “Not directly.” J.C. spoke up.

  Confused, she looked at him. “Are you arresting him?”

  “No. I’m investigating.”

  “Look, J.C., you can search my cottage if you want to,” Nathan interjected, his voice shaking. “Whatever it takes. Just tell me the best way to…”

  “Hey, Nathan!” Zach banged through the screen door in the breezeway and bounded toward them. “How come this is in your toolbox?”

  Dangling from his hand was a diamond tennis bracelet.

  Catherine felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

  For a long moment, the silence was broken only by a distant, ominous rumble of thunder. Then J.C. stepped forward. “Let me take a look at that, son. I’m Nathan’s brother.”

  His voice was taut as the strings on her violin. And the word solemn didn’t do justice to the gravity of his expression. Catherine suppressed another shiver.

  But it was Nathan who drew her attention. All the color had drained from his face, leaving shock and disbelief in its place.

  J.C. lowered himself to Zach’s level and inspected the bracelet in the youngster’s hand. Then he pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket and held it out. “Drop it in here for me, okay?”

  After her son complied, he moved beside her, suddenly subdued. No surprise there. The tense vibes surrounding the little group huddled on the lawn were almost palpable.

  Moving back to Nathan, J.C. held up the bag. “Any idea how this got there?”

  “I can guess.”

  “Okay.”

  “Danielle Price put it in there when I went to clean my paintbrush.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  Nathan shot Zach a quick glance. “Let’s just say she had another—more personal—job in mind for me. I wasn’t interested. She wasn’t happy.” His carefully chosen words were terse. Clipped. “She also knows about…where I was before I came here. Courtesy of Google.”

  More silence.

  “Mom?”

  At the tentative question and the tug on her shirt, Catherine shifted her attention to Zach.

  “What’s wrong? Why is everybody mad?” His voice came out small and uncertain.

  “We’re not mad, honey. We’re…concerned about something that got lost.”

  “Like the money in the envelope you were looking for yesterday?”

  At Zach’s comment, both men jerked their heads her direction.

  “What money?” J.C. demanded.

  Catherine’s gaze flicked to Nathan. “I…uh…got some cash from the ATM and I…can’t find it.”

  She knew this new information wasn’t going to help Nathan’s case. The coincidence was enough to instill doubt in anyone.

  Including her…much to her disgust.

  She tried to suppress it. Tried to erect barriers against it. But it was as insidious and relentless as the tide. Uncertainty crept into her consciousness—and her eyes.

  And she knew the instant Nathan discerned it.

  What little color was left in his face vanished, and his own eyes grew bleak.

  Catherine wanted to cry.

  In his moment of trial, when he’d most needed the people he cared about to support him—and believe in him—she’d let him down as badly as if she’d come right out and accused him of stealing.

  “I’m heading back to the station.” J.C. pocketed the bracelet, ignoring the dynamics between her and his brother. “I’m going to ask one of the other detectives to pay a visit to the Prices’ and have a little talk with the lady of the house. Leave your cell on, okay?”

  Breaking eye contact with her at last, Nathan focused on J.C. “Okay. Look…do you need me to go in with you?”

  There was a mixture of dread and fear in his voice, and Catherine’s heart ached for him.

  “No. I know how to reach you.” His mouth thinned and his voice grew hard. “We’re not going to let her get away with this, Nathan. It’s all circumstantial evidence.”

  “That may be all it takes for someone like me.” There was quiet anguish in his tone. And defeat.

  “Hey…” J.C. laid a hand on his shoulder, his tone firm. “Don’t give up. We’re going to beat this.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Count on it.” Giving his brother’s shoulder a squeeze, J.C. nodded toward her and walked toward his car.

  They watched in silence as he slid in. Started the engine. Put the car in gear.

  Nathan didn’t speak until his brother was nothing more than a cloud of dust in the road.

  “I need to go, too, Catherine.”

  “No.” She took a step toward him. “Please stay. I’m sorry for…” Her words trailed off.

  “Doubting me?” He attempted to smile, but the twist of his lips didn’t even come close. “I don’t know why I expected more. I’m an ex-con. But for the record, I didn’t take your money.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  She deserved that. Nevertheless, his words ripped a hole in her heart.

  Before she could think of a response, he moved toward his bike.

  “Are you leaving, Nathan?”

  Zach’s question stopped him. Angling toward the little boy, a fresh wave of pain swept across his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”

  “What about our party?”

  “I’m not real hungry for cake right now. You and your mom have the party without me, okay?”

  “It won’t be the same.”

  “I’m sorry, Zach. I can’t stay.”

  His voice rasped, and all at once Zach pulled from her grasp and ran toward him. Nathan knelt to meet him, wrapping him in a bear hug as his shattered gaze connected with hers. There was a world of hurt in his eyes. Of betrayal. And an infinite sadness that told her the precious thing that had been within her grasp might be gone forever.

  The hole in her heart widened. She felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes, in her throat, and a feeling of desperation swept over her. She couldn’t let him leave like this.

  Taking a step forward, she held out her hand in an imploring gesture. “Please, Nathan. I…”

  He shook his head, cutting her off. “Let it go, Catherine.”

  It’s too late.

  He didn’t say the words, but she saw the message in his eyes. Although she tried to stop it, a tear spilled over her lashes and trailed down her cheek.

  Nathan’s features contorted as he watched her, as if he, too, was fighting back tears. For one brief instant, she thought he was going to relent and forgive her. That he was going to draw her into the circle of his arms with Zach and hold her close.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he looked away. Then, with one final squeeze for Zach, he released her son and mounted his bike. And as he set off down the road, the gray clouds gathering above snuffed out the sun, leaving the world in shadows.

  Reminding Catherine of the terrible truth of Zach’s words.

  It wouldn’t be the same without Nathan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?

 
; This morning he’d been on top of the world, looking forward to a future that seemed bright and promising.

  Now he was facing the very real possibility of more time behind bars.

  Leaning forward in the pew he’d occupied every Sunday since he’d arrived on Nantucket, Nathan rested his elbows on his knees, dropped his head into his hands…and fought back the urge to throw up.

  Though that would be a fitting conclusion to his miserable day.

  Danielle Price’s insinuation that he’d stolen her bracelet had been bad enough. That alone had sent raw terror drumming through his veins. After the past eight weeks of freedom, the mere prospect of returning to prison was sufficient to cut him off at the knees.

  But the doubt in Catherine’s eyes had been worse.

  He massaged his brow, trying to knead away the ache pounding in his temples. As lethally as a sharp knife could slice through a carotid artery and sever the flow of blood that kept a body alive, her lack of trust in him had severed the emotional connection between them that had given his soul—and his heart—new life over these past few weeks.

  How could she have any misgivings about his honesty, after all the hours they’d spent together and the closeness that had developed between them? How could she turn away from him after the secrets he’d shared with her about his past—and his hopes for the future? How could she mistrust him after she’d taken refuge in the shelter of his arms?

  Her reaction had blindsided him. Left him reeling.

  And raised another agonizing question.

  If she couldn’t believe in him in light of the view he’d given her into his soul, how could he ever expect anyone else to give him the benefit of the doubt? To have faith in him?

  The answer was as simple as it was depressing.

  He couldn’t.

  It was time to face the truth. His dream of escaping his past, of starting over, of building a new life, had been only that. A dream. The stigma of his mistakes would haunt him forever.

  Nathan had no idea how long he sat in the Lord’s house, seeking consolation and guidance. But the comfort he usually found in prayer eluded him. His soul felt as dry and parched as the prison toast he’d choked down for ten long years.