Loving a Wildflower

by Amanda Torrey

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked.” The woman retrieved a tissue from her small purse and dabbed at her eyes before blowing into the tissue. “It’s just… I know I was a horrible mother. I drove him into joining the military. If I had been stronger… I should have stood up to his father. I should have been more nurturing. I should have been warm. Like you.”

  Simplicity moved to the other side of the counter and captured the woman in her arms for a hug. Her pain was too strong to ignore.

  “I’m sure you did the best you could.”

  “I should have done better.”

  Ethan’s mother relaxed for a moment in Simplicity’s arms, then stiffened and pulled away.

  “I can’t turn back the clock, so I have to deal with the mess I’ve made.”

  She dug into her small purse, pulling out an envelope.

  “Please, at least get this to Ethan. It’s something his grandfather left to him. His grandfather is the only one Ethan ever loved.” She sniffed some more before rolling her eyes in the back of her head and using her fingers to clear away the mascara that ran below her eyes. “Promise me you’ll get that to him?”

  Simplicity nodded. What harm could come of passing along a memory? Ethan had spoken well of his grandfather. Surely he would love to have the memento.

  As Mrs. Witherford turned to leave, Simplicity grabbed the check and held it out to her. “Don’t forget to take this. I can’t accept a bribe.”

  The woman turned her sad eyes back to Simplicity.

  “It’s not a bribe.”

  “Ethan would see it that way.”

  Mrs. Witherford shook her head.

  “He doesn’t have to know. Please keep it. For the children.”

  Simplicity gave up the fight, but she knew she’d never cash it and would never let Ethan know about it.

  She didn’t deal in dirty money.

  “You and your husband have so much. Why didn’t you get him out?” Simplicity startled herself with her question. Though her voice was quiet and reserved, the words carried as if she had shouted them over a canyon.

  Mrs. Witherford turned back, aborting her attempt to leave.

  “He told you we refused to pay the ransom?”

  Simplicity nodded, feeling more nauseated than ever before. Why on earth had she opened her mouth?

  “He has no idea of the truth.”

  “What’s the truth?”

  When had she turned into such a journalist?

  Mrs. Witherford paced the area, her high heels clinking on the ceramic tiles.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “May I get you some tea? Water? Coffee?”

  Mrs. Witherford accepted a cup of cold water and sat on the blue and white checkered chair in front of the fireplace, her back stiff and her legs crossed.

  “Am I keeping you from your work?”

  “Nah. If the phone rings I’ll have to answer it, but with the storm it’s been pretty quiet around here.”

  “I envy you girls who get these little jobs and can feel independent. I’ve never worked.”

  “You’ve run a household and raised a child. That’s work.”

  Mrs. Witherford laughed in the same self-deprecating way Simplicity had heard from Ethan.

  “Look how well I did that.”

  “Tell me the story.” Simplicity leaned forward in her chair, her knees nearly touching Ethan’s mom’s knees. She could have sat on the couch on the other side of the coffee table to give them more space, but she preferred to be close for this intimate conversation.

  “When we heard Ethan’s unit had been ambushed, we thought he died.” Fighting tears, Mrs. Witherford sipped her water.

  “That must have been awful.”

  “It was only the beginning of the horror. I struggled to come to terms with his death, but I rationalized that at least his death was quick. Then the government told me his body had not been recovered, and every nightmare a mother is capable of came crashing into my days, my nights—I couldn’t stop thinking of what horrible things could have been happening to him. Ethan wasn’t raised to work hard. He was pampered. People did things for him. He had never held a job. I figured he’d learn all of that when he went off to college, or he’d skate by with his father’s help. I never thought he’d run off and enlist in the military. Witherfords don’t do that.”

  “I think he wanted to do something to feel proud of.”

  “Well look where that got him!” Fire burst from her eyes, scorching Simplicity in her heart. “When we found out he was being held as a prisoner, we tried everything. Even his father tried everything in his power. We met with military leaders—even with the Secretary of Defense. We were told we could not negotiate. You think we wouldn’t put up the money for our only son?”

  Simplicity remained quiet. She didn’t know anything. She was simply a bystander.

  “We spent millions on consultants who wanted to try to release him. We had a source in the FBI who said we could probably get away with a private ransom. Just as we were about to exchange the money for Ethan, those dirty bastards added a hostage negotiation trick. One of their guys from our prison for one of ours—Ethan. The goddamned government—the one we support with our money—wouldn’t agree. Our hands were tied. They threatened to freeze all of our accounts if we moved forward. Threatened to throw us in jail. If we allowed that to happen, what good would we have been for Ethan?

  “We finally were able to get them to agree to a rescue attempt. We funded it in full. I would have stormed in there myself to demand my baby back if I could have! Since I couldn’t, I comforted myself with medication and alcohol. Ethan is right. I’m weak. I don’t deserve to be his mother.”

  “Oh, don’t say that. You were going through a horrible trauma.”

  “More horrible than what he was going through?”

  Simplicity rubbed Mrs. Witherford’s back as she leaned forward onto her knees, sobbing hysterically. When she was able to gather her composure, she dug in her purse and pulled out a pill bottle. Simplicity considered stopping her, but it wasn’t her place, so she kept doing all she could do—she listened.

  “The rescue attempt failed. More good men were killed. And I lost the will to live.

  “I don’t know what happened after that. I wallowed. I tuned out completely, and didn’t do anything to save my baby.

  “When he came off the plane, he couldn’t walk. He was malnourished. Scarred. Parts of him had been carved out. His beautiful face—the face of a model—they destroyed it. The military kept him in a hospital in Germany for weeks so he could recover, and they wouldn’t allow us to travel there, so I hadn’t known the extent of his injuries. If anyone told me, I didn’t hear it. Regardless of how broken he was, I was so happy to see him. I managed to sober up for the day, but he wouldn’t even look at me. He wouldn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t allow us to take him home. Instead he had some old buddy of his pick him up and drop him off at that little shack in town. I tried to visit him there, but he wouldn’t see me. I know he hates me, but I can’t give up on him. I can’t.”

  “You shouldn’t give up.”

  “So you’ll help me?”

  “I can’t.”

  Mrs. Witherford whipped out a compact mirror and cleaned up her face. In an instant, she was transformed from a desperate mother to a high class snob.

  “I thought you’d have more compassion.”

  “I do, Mrs. Witherford. I feel for you. I hope you can make things better with Ethan. But I owe my allegiance to him, not you. I’m sorry.”

  Emotions played out across the older woman’s face, and Simplicity wanted to cave—to tell her she’d help her.

  But doing so would destroy any gains she had made with Ethan, and he had been hurt and betrayed enough.

  “At least promise me you’ll give him that envelope. It’s a tiny gesture, but I think he’ll be happy with it. He has rejected every material thing I’ve tried to offer him, but maybe this will remind him of my love fo
r him.”

  “I’ll be sure he gets it.”

  Mrs. Witherford didn’t say another word before leaving.

  Simplicity remained in her seat for a good long while, desperately trying to make sense of all of the emotions the Witherfords had shared with her.

  She wasn’t sure how much of this intensity she could take.

  Lost in thought, she startled when Freedom crashed into the room, ranting and raving as she reached over the counter to answer the ringing phone.

  Simplicity hadn’t heard her pull in.

  “Great. Missed the call. What the hell are you doing over there? I’ve been trying to call you all damn day. The business phone is ringing off the hook, and you are sitting there lost in your little world. What the hell, Simplicity?”

  “I—I—I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it.”

  “Were you sleeping?”

  “I don’t think so…”

  “Simplicity… what is going on?”

  “Nothing. I mean, I had a visit from Ethan’s mother, and then, um, I have no idea.”

  Freedom’s expression went from irritated and angry to sympathetic and concerned.

  “I’m fine. I must have fallen asleep over here. I’m sorry. I’ll check the voice mail and return any calls I missed.”

  “It’s okay, Simplicity. Why don’t you go back and take a nice, hot bubble bath? Relax a little.”

  “I’m fine. Please don’t treat me like I’m—”

  “Like you’ve been working really hard? But you have been. I should have come back sooner. Rogan met me for lunch, and I figured since it was slow here, I wouldn’t rush back. I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  “You didn’t take advantage. And I’m fine. I can handle it. Quit your worrying.”

  “Fine. No worrying. But take the rest of the night off. Hey, what’s this?”

  Freedom picked up the check Mrs. Witherford had left. Her eyes widened as she took in the amount.

  “Simplicity—this is great! You secured quite the donation! I’ll bring this to the bank to deposit it in the fund we set up there. Quite remarkable.”

  “No!” Simplicity shot across the room and snatched the poisonous check out of her sister’s hands. She folded it up without glancing at it again and slipped it into her sweater pocket.

  “What’s your deal, SiSi? You can’t carry that around. If you lose it you’ll be mortified having to tell the donor.”

  “I won’t lose it. And I don’t plan to cash it.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Oh, do you mind if I take the weekend off?”

  Freedom crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the reception counter.

  “I don’t need you this weekend—I’m fully staffed. But why?”

  “I have a date.”

  Freedom perked up. “You finally accepted the inspector’s offer?”

  “No. And stop insinuating that I should. Ethan is taking me away.”

  “Simplicity…”

  “I think I’ll go for that bath now.” Simplicity kissed Freedom on the cheek. “See you later, alligator.”

  Simplicity skipped off, pretending Freedom wasn’t fuming.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ethan pulled into the parking lot at Reed’s cottage motel (she had a big sign that read, “Woodland Paradise,” but everyone still referred to it as the old cottage motel.) Simplicity came running out of the front door before he made it all the way in, carrying a tote bag decorated with daisies.

  He unlocked the door so she could get in—a bundle of excited energy in the body of a sexy vixen. Her hair flew around her as she moved in a cloud of sweet-smelling silkiness, and her cheeks were as rosy as they were after they had made love in his garden.

  Made love. Interesting. He had never thought of the act of intercourse in those terms.

  Then again, he had never known Simplicity.

  “I can’t wait to see where we’re going. I haven’t left this town in six months.”

  “Buckle up, Beanstalk. It’s a long ride.”

  Ethan’s grandfather used to tell him that you could tell a lot about a person on a road trip. How they handled the ratio between conversation and silence. What kind of music they chose. Did they dance in their seat? Did they sing along? How often did they want to stop to stretch, have a snack, or use the facilities?

  Simplicity was as easygoing and unassuming on the road as she was in his home. She didn’t ask for a thing, but he started loving the moments when they’d pull over at a rest area and she’d stretch. He could watch her stretch all day…

  They had similar musical tastes, too. At first he figured she was just being agreeable, but when she turned up his favorite song and sang all of the lyrics, he was a goner.

  About five hours later, they pulled into the long, stone-gated drive of his grandfather’s favorite vacation home.

  “This is where we’re staying? I thought you said we were going to your grandfather’s beach house? Not a castle! I can’t wait to see the lobby—maybe I can get some ideas for Freedom’s reception area. So beautiful.”

  He laughed a bit at the awe in her voice and the way her face pressed to the window as she studied the grounds on their way up the circular drive.

  “It’s not a hotel or a castle, sweet. It is my grandfather’s home. Well, technically it’s mine now. But I haven’t been here since the big going away party I threw myself prior to being deployed.”

  “This is your house? You could live here?”

  She stared at him, and he waited for her to hate him. She had been very vocal about how much she despised money and everything that came with it.

  He shouldn’t have brought her here. He was basically flaunting his wealth in her face and begging her to run away from him and the shitty life his family led.

  “Unbelievable. Well, if you have to have money, you may as well have a place like this.”

  She jumped out of the car. He tried to keep up. He had wanted to open the door for her, but she wasn’t one to wait patiently for someone to do something for her.

  She was a door opener. In all ways.

  “Hurry—I have to see the inside of this place.”

  He did as requested, grabbing his luggage from the trunk.

  “When did you get so impatient?” he asked.

  She pressed her finger to her chin, eyes pointed skyward. “Um, about birth, I’d say. Look—is that a hawk?”

  He shook his head as he unlocked the door. He had asked the live-in housekeeper and caretaker of the property to take the weekend off, and had sent them a generous payment so they could go somewhere nice together. They were a middle-aged married couple, and had met while working for his grandfather back when they were in their early twenties. They had promised to have the place ready for him, and expressed disappointment that they wouldn’t get to see him.

  Unlike most people in his life, he believed they were genuine in their disappointment. They had always been kind to him, even when he was a self-centered little prick of a kid.

  “Amazing. Wow. Look at the artwork!”

  The artwork had always been his favorite attribute, too, but when he had brought girls here before, they were always most impressed by the richness of the interior. True, he had been a teenager at the time, but he couldn’t imagine Simplicity ever caring about brand names or how much something cost.

  “My grandfather was a supporter of the local art culture. It’s a big deal down here.”

  “Your grandfather sounds like the kind of guy I’d like.”

  “Even though he was rich?”

  “Everyone has their flaws. Who am I to judge?”

  She smiled before returning to her self-guided tour of the great room, and he relaxed.

  Moments later, she stopped perusing the environment and hugged him. He dropped his bag and hugged her back.

  “Thank you for bringing me here, Ethan. This will be the best weekend of my life. With you.”

  He showed her to the master b
edroom. She barely glanced at the intricately carved mahogany furniture or the décor that had cost him way too much of his inheritance. He didn’t give two shits about updating the look of the home, but the caretakers had insisted that it was in their contract to update every few years and that not doing so would devalue the home. He had randomly checked off his criteria and let them run with it. Looked like they completely disregarded his request for black curtains, black paint, and framed skulls on the walls, instead choosing deep blues and browns. Man, did he owe those two.

  Simplicity was too busy looking at him to notice the richness of the room.

  He rubbed his neck, not fully comfortable with her staring.

  “You’d better get used to me looking at you, because I’m never going to stop.”

  She ran over to him and threw herself into his arms, knocking him off balance. She laughed as he landed against the bed.

  “Now that I’ve got you where I want you…”

  He breathed her in like a drowning man gulps for his first breath of non-liquid air. He didn’t know if he had died and was being taunted before being sent to the punishing flames of hell, or if some strange twist of fate had truly led this angel into his life.

  Whatever it was, he’d roll with it.

  And with her.

  ***

  “Now that the place is properly christened, what’s next?” Simplicity propped herself up in the bed, her shoulder peeking out through a curtain of her hair.

  He leaned forward and kissed that sweet shoulder. “You’re going to make me go out, aren’t you?”

  “Yuppers!”

  Her enthusiasm warmed him in a way he thought would never be possible. He had prepared himself for this outing—he knew she’d want to see the town, and he knew he couldn’t skulk around in his protective wardrobe.

  She was brave enough to look at him. He had to be brave enough to allow himself to be seen.

  “I’m going to shower, and then we need to do some exploring. I’ve never been to Newport.”

  “Think I’ll join you.”

  She grinned over her shoulder.