Beginning with You

by Lindsay McKenna

“Fine.”

  Rook took her time in the shower, dread filling her. She hated confrontations, especially over family matters. She dressed in a pale pink blouse, a pair of jeans and her Nike jogging shoes. She combed out her damp hair with a shaky hand. Why am I so nervous? Calm down, you idiot. Just because Noah looks stricken and hurt doesn’t mean a thing. He’s pulled this act on you before. She saw the high color in her cheeks and avoided the fear etched in her wide gray eyes as she glanced in the bathroom mirror. Palms sweaty, she walked quietly to the living room.

  Noah stood looking out the window, hands deep in his trouser pockets. She sat down in a chair and crossed her legs.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, watching him turn around.

  Noah sat on the couch, opposite Rook. His mouth was suddenly dry, and he could no longer hide his nervousness. Normally, he was an efficient and capable leader who usually had the right words for his crew. But he was vulnerable to Rook’s distrusting look and her defensive attitude.

  “When Jack broke up with our mother, you were six and I was eight,” he began.

  “Yes, and you chose to stay with him,” she reminded Noah. “I wasn’t about to, after he beat Mom up that one time. And she was smart enough to get out from under him and his tyrant rule.”

  “I wanted to come with you.”

  Rook snorted. “It sure didn’t look that way, Noah. Father and son stuck together like glue, while Mom and daughter left. Penniless, I might add. Mom asked for no alimony when she headed for Texas.”

  “Jack pulled me aside one day, Rook, before Mom and you left,” he told her quietly. “He told me he was dying of cancer and that I owed it to him to stay behind to help him.”

  Rook sat up, her eyes rounding. “What?”

  Noah gave her a twisted smile. “I found out much too late that Jack was a chronic liar.”

  “And a wife beater.”

  “That, also.”

  She tilted her head, trying to penetrate Noah’s open features to see if he was lying to her once again. “You said Jack made you believe he had cancer?”

  “Yes. Looking back on it many years later, after another incident, I began to piece things together. He lied about a lot of things, Rook.”

  “When he didn’t die of cancer, didn’t you stop to think about it?” she challenged.

  Leaning forward, Noah pleaded, “Rook, I was eight at the time. You know how naive children are. Jack came into my room one night just before Mom left and started sobbing. It was the first time I’d ever seen a man cry. He begged for me to stay. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Rook got up, pacing the room. “Why should I believe you, Noah? Jack was a chronic liar. Why shouldn’t you be, too? You lived with that monster. It’s a well-known fact that what the parent does, so does the child.”

  He held on to his anger. “I have proof, Rook.”

  She halted. “All right, go on with your story.”

  “When Jack took me back East, and he remarried, he hired detectives to hunt you down.”

  “Those were the right words. Mom and I felt like felons on the run from the law. She couldn’t keep a job in some small jerkwater town for more than six months to a year because Jack had the power, the prestige and, most important, the money to locate us.”

  Noah nodded. “Jack had a brittle ego, and he couldn’t stand the thought that Mom had run out on him. It was like a wound that never healed in him.”

  “You bet it didn’t. Jack taught me what hate can do, Noah.”

  “He taught us all,” he agreed wearily. “Right after we moved back to Washington, D.C., I started writing letters to you and Mom, as soon as the detectives found your address. I couldn’t leave Jack because I still thought he was dying of cancer, but I wanted to let you and Mom know how much I missed you.”

  Rook stared down at the letters. “We never got any of them.”

  Noah got up and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, walking over to where Rook stood tensely. “Jack promised me that each and every one of those letters would be sent to you. So, over the years, until I was eighteen, I kept writing. For a long time, I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t write back. Every time I asked that question, Jack hammered it into me that you and Mom didn’t love me. He tried to make me think Mom had abandoned me for you.”

  Rook heard the agony in Noah’s voice. She saw it in his eyes. This was no act he was putting on, her gut told her. “Go on….”

  “You remember the times the detectives found you and brought you back East?”

  “How could I forget? Locked in my room all day and only allowed out when Jack or his wife were there to keep an eye on me.”

  “The first time they brought you back, you were eleven.”

  Rook felt old anger stirring in her. “Yes, and you were nowhere to be found. Jack kept telling me how much you had missed me, but I sure as hell didn’t get to see you.”

  “Know why?”

  “No,” she muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “I figured you hated me as much as I hated you, and you were avoiding me.”

  Noah fought the urge to place his hands on her drawn shoulders. His voice dropped to a rasp. “Jack had me locked in my room, too, Rook.”

  Jerking her chin up, Rook stared at him. The anguish was clearly etched in his eyes. “What?”

  “If he’d allowed us together, the first thing I would have asked you was why you and Mom hadn’t answered all my letters over the years.”

  Rubbing her chest because it hurt, Rook stepped away from him. “Jack said during the next visit that you were away at a military academy and weren’t allowed home.”

  “That was a partial lie. I was sent to a military academy five days a week, but I was allowed home on weekends. The week you were brought home, Jack told the officials to keep me at the academy. He wanted to make sure you and I didn’t get together.”

  Rook’s mouth fell open. Noah, who was always so warm and giving, wasn’t the type to adjust easily to a military lifestyle. They had been so close as a family before the divorce. He had always been a toucher and hugger. Rook could vividly remember the time when she and Noah were inseparable. Her mother had reinforced their closeness, showering them with constant love and attention.

  Rook’s distrust warred with the new information. They were no longer children, but that didn’t stop the hurt she was feeling for Noah—if he was telling the truth.

  “Jack kept saying that if I was a good little girl, he’d let me see you—eventually.”

  “The only reason he wanted you back East was to hurt Mom, Rook.”

  “I believe that! He never did like me. You were always his favorite.”

  “Lucky me,” Noah grated.

  “What about when I was twelve? They tracked us down in Odessa, Texas, and I spent two lousy weeks back there.”

  “I was kept at the academy again. This time, I knew something was up and hitched a ride home with one of my friends’ parents. Remember that time I got to your room before we were discovered together?”

  “Too well. You were like an excited puppy, hugging and kissing me.”

  He managed a slight smile. “No one was more excited than me at discovering you were there, Rook. I loved you. I was lonely, and I couldn’t figure out why you hadn’t answered my letters. Remember, just as Jack found us together, I asked you why you never wrote back?”

  Rook searched her memory. “Yes,” she admitted slowly. “I didn’t understand what you were talking about.”

  “I was eighteen before I found out the extent of Jack’s lies. I had just gotten to the Coast Guard Academy and had sent you a letter at the address the detective agency had on you. I got it back ten days later, unopened. I called the agency and they said it was your last known address. It wasn’t, of course. Jack had given them orders to lie to me. By this time, Jack had pretty much given up on harassing Mom. The letter should have reached you, Rook. When I went home on leave that summer, I cornered Jack about it.

  “H
e tried to weasel out of giving me an explanation. I had grown up believing that neither of you wanted to hear from me, but this letter indicated something far different.” Noah rubbed his square jaw. “It was one of the few times in my life I lost my temper. When I did, it triggered something in Jack, and he started screaming at me. He told me how much he’d hated Mom and how he was going to make her pay for leaving him. When he started calling her names, I jerked him up by the lapels of his sport coat and slammed him against the wall. I told him to never speak about our mother that way again. We ended up in a fight.” Noah pointed to his broken nose as proof. “While I was lying semiconscious on the floor of the den, he went over to the desk, opened this drawer he’d always kept locked and flung this bunch of letters at me. He told me that none of the letters I’d written over the years had been delivered to you.” Noah’s voice faltered, and he looked deeply into Rook’s eyes. “All those years he’d lied to me, Rook. He said you had gotten the letters but that you refused to answer them. He’d convinced me that neither of you had ever loved me.”

  Rook blinked once, pain of an insurmountable nature moving through her. She opened her mouth, but Noah interrupted.

  “Look, do me a favor. Just read the letters. They’re all dated. Let them prove to you that I didn’t hate you—or Mom.”

  Before she could say anything, Noah went to the kitchen, picked up his garrison cap and left. Rook stared down at the stack of letters. Oh, God, what was happening? The ache in her heart multiplied as she went over and carefully picked up the pack. She saw a number of envelopes that had turned yellow with age and ran her fingertips reverently across them. Her hands shook as she sat down and carefully unknotted the red yarn that bound them.

  It was 10 p.m. by the time Rook finished reading the eighty-five letters. They lay scattered all over the coffee table. She picked up one of the early letters, studying Noah’s wide scrawl. What hurt the most was the fact that Rook could still see the tear stains splotched on the yellowed paper. Other letters made her cry. Noah thought he’d been abandoned by his mother. “Why don’t you love me anymore, Mom? I still love you. I want to come home to you and Rook, but Dad says he’s dying and he needs me….”

  Taking a deep, unsteady breath, Rook reread another one. Tears blurred her vision. It had been a letter Noah had written to her when she was thirteen. By then, he’d accepted the fact that they might not want to write to him, but he was persistent in believing they liked to hear from him. “Today’s a special day, Sis. I’ve been chosen to carry the flag at our next academy graduation ceremony. I wish you were here to see me. I miss you and love you so very much. When the other guys talk about their sisters, I don’t say much. If you could maybe write just a few lines and let me know how you are, I’d have something to brag about to them about you, too.”

  Miserably, Rook looked at her watch. She had to talk to Noah. The June night was cool and windy. The sky was clear, for once. As she walked to her sports car, the stars hung above her, cold and silent—just as she had been to Noah. Placing all the letters on the seat, she started up the car.

  Rook knocked until her knuckles were sore, but Noah didn’t answer the door of his apartment. She turned, tucking her chilled hands into the pockets of her white jacket. Looking toward the town of Port Angeles below her, she could see the wharf where the Point Countess was docked and decided to go to there, next.

  Dave Harper was on duty and allowed her on board.

  “Where’s Lieutenant Caldwell?” she asked,

  “Last I saw him, ma’am, he was in his cabin, working on some reports.” Harper pointed down the well-lit hatch opening and stairs.

  “Thanks.”

  The cutter was small and economically built. She could smell oil and diesel fuel as she trod through the quiet boat. Heart pounding in her chest, Rook located Noah’s stateroom and knocked lightly. No answer. Again, she knocked.

  Nothing. Rook looked around, chewing on her lower lip. Was Noah avoiding her? God knew, he had a right to be angry with her. Could he forgive her for all those years she refused to see or even talk to him? Taking a deep breath, Rook climbed topside. Harper was up on the bridge. She walked to the aft end of the boat, searching.

  The shadows swallowed her up as she walked on the starboard side of the cutter, heading toward the bow. She spotted Noah. Shoulders hunched forward and wearing his foul weather jacket, he had his back to her. He was staring up at the stars. Noah looked so alone—abandoned. Rook girded herself. It was her turn to ask for his forgiveness. She stepped toward him.

  Noah heard Rook approach but barely turned his head in her direction. Even in the darkness, the light defused by the cutter’s bridge above them, he could see the anguish written on her face. Would she understand? Would she forgive him and herself for their twisted past? A lump formed in his constricted throat.

  Rook moved to his side, inches separating them. Her voice was unsteady when she spoke. “I read them. All of them…”

  Noah steeled himself. “And?”

  Tears scalded her eyes and she swallowed, her voice thick. “I—was wrong, Noah.”

  He turned to Rook, looking at her for a long moment. Two silvery paths of tears glistened down her cheeks. Gently, Noah wiped them away with his trembling fingers. “Can we start over?”

  “If you want to….”

  He nodded, no longer able to trust his voice.

  With a muffled sob, Rook blindly threw her arms around her brother’s broad shoulders. They stood there a long time, the darkness shielding them, absorbing their old pain and loss.

  Finally, Noah released his grip on Rook. “Come on,” he urged thickly. “Let’s go to my cabin. I think we could both use some coffee.”

  Rook nodded, trying unsuccessfully to smile. His face was tortured with so many emotions, but new hope burned in his dark-gray eyes. “Yes….”

  In his cabin, Rook sat on the tiny bunk, the mug gripped tightly between her cold hands. Noah sat on the chair, the desk behind him. This time the silence wasn’t stilted.

  “You never gave up on me,” Rook said, her voice still raw. “Why?”

  “Because you were my sister. How can you ignore your own blood, Rook?”

  “I did a pretty good job of it, didn’t I?”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “No, it was Jack’s.” Her voice hardened. “He was sick, Noah. Sick!”

  “Right now he’s in a mental hospital. Did you know that?”

  Rook gasped and looked over at Noah. “No, I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, last year my stepmother had him committed. He was diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic. Even the medication hasn’t helped him.”

  “My God.”

  Noah nodded thoughtfully, sipping his coffee. “He did a lot of damage to all of us, Rook.”

  “Worst of all, to you. He made you think Mom didn’t love you, and she did—always.”

  “I know that now,” he whispered, “thanks to you.”

  Rook rubbed her face, emotionally exhausted. “God, so much suffering, so many lost years that we’ll never be able to make up.” Her eyes softened as she held her brother’s red-rimmed gaze. “Worst of all, you never had Mom’s love.”

  “I had a stepmother.”

  Rook shook her head. “I don’t care what you say, Noah, it had to hurt you—deeply.” Forever…

  “I survived.” He mustered a sad smile. “We both did, despite some pretty awful circumstances. And look at us. We’ve both grown up, we’re responsible adults who care about others. Things could have turned out a lot worse. No, we’re well off, despite all that other stuff.”

  “Noah Caldwell—the eternal optimist.”

  He grinned. “And you, the eternal pessimist.”

  “Guess we’re a good balance for each other, huh?”

  His smile widened, warmth shining in his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you show me those letters sooner?”

  “It was obvious to me that if I tried to push you
too hard, I’d destroy any chance of getting you to sit still long enough to hear me out. I had to wait.”

  “You always did have patience.”

  “And you never did.”

  “No, it’s not one of my strong points.”

  Noah cleared his throat, holding Rook’s softened gaze. “You’ll never know how much it meant to me for you to show up yesterday when all hell was breaking loose.”

  “I fought myself all afternoon. I knew they’d brought you and your crew in. I kept telling myself I didn’t want to see you. Why should I go hold your hand? You’d never held ours.” Rook shrugged, giving him an apologetic look. “I was trying to punish you for past transgressions.”

  “In the end, you came, Sis.”

  “Yes….”

  Noah reached out and gripped her hand. “You were there for me because I was your brother, and I was in trouble. That’s when I knew it was time to show you those letters. I was going to show them to you as soon as the incident was cleared up, one way or another.”

  She squeezed his hand. “In my heart, I knew you’d never shoot a whale.” And then Rook smiled shakily. “You were always so chivalrous. I swear, in some ways, you’re a throwback to the days of knighthood.”

  Laughing, Noah stood, feeling the last of the weight he’d carried for all those years slipping free of his shoulders. “Come on, you need to get home and catch up on some sleep. You’ve still got dark shadows under your eyes.”

  Rook moved off the bunk, placing the mug on the desk. “Uh-oh, there you go, starting to act like a mother hen.”

  Noah opened the cabin door. “Wrong,” he told her with a devilish grin. “It’s called acting like a brother. You might as well get used to it, Rook Caldwell.”

  With a dramatic groan, Rook laughed freely. The sound carried throughout the cutter. “Just remember, there’s only eighteen months difference in our ages, so don’t go getting too pushy and know-it-all with me.”

  “Agreed. But from now on, let’s use each other’s strength in times of need, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was time. Chappie glanced out the window of his office toward the quiet hangar bay. The doors were closed against the weather, which had turned foul, with rain and winds exceeding thirty-five knots and thirty-foot waves at sea. Gale warnings had been posted throughout the day. A powerful Alaskan cold front was bearing down on them. He’d purposely stayed late, until the day crew had left. The only ones on duty now were Lieutenants Scanlon and Caldwell. A grizzled smiled pulled at his mouth. Annie Locke was flight mech for tonight. Good. Everything was in order. He’d waited with the patience of a hungry wolf, watching his quarry for the last three weeks.