by Harris, Lisa
He wanted to tell her that she could trust him. That he’d never do anything to hurt her. But today wasn’t the day to do that. After what she’d gone through, it was going to take time for him to show her she could trust him.
“You don’t need to apologize. Trust doesn’t come easy when you’ve been betrayed.”
“You understand, don’t you?”
“My father wasn’t there for me. There was a lot of hurt and rejection. Seeing him again is going to be very hard.” He had a lot to learn about forgiveness. A heavenly Father had forgiven him. Surely he could learn to do the same. “Can I ask you to promise me one thing?”
She nodded, her eyes still brimming with tears.
“I’ve had feelings toward you for a long time, but the timing was never right, and maybe it won’t be right again this time. But … when you’re ready, if you’re ready, to give us a chance, call me. I’ll be waiting.”
She nodded, reached out, and ran her hand down his arm. “Thank you. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, but you did pretty good yourself. You might not be a police officer, but your sister was right. I’d trust you to watch my back anytime.”
Mason started to stand, then leaned forward and brushed her lips gently with his. Forward, maybe, but he couldn’t help it. Emily Hunt had completely captured his heart.
He turned around, leaving the Hunt home like he’d done dozens of times in the past, but the next time he came back, he’d be returning to see the woman he was falling in love with.
37
Mason parked his rental car outside the brick, ranch-style home in south Denver, hands resting against the steering wheel as he stared out the window. It had snowed last night, leaving a dusting of white powder across the front lawn. According to the news report he’d just picked up on one of the local stations, six more inches were expected over the next twenty-four hours. Bringing much needed new powder to the surrounding slopes.
But skiing wasn’t on his agenda today. His father was inside. Dying. He’d heard from him twice over the past fifteen years. A wedding invitation from wife number two, and a death notice regarding his third wife. He’d ignored the correspondence, clearly sent out by someone who didn’t know the situation. Didn’t know that Nathanial Taylor had been anything but a father to the boys who carried his name on their birth certificates.
Memories surfaced, unsolicited. The day he’d found his mother overdosed on the couch. His brother Sam’s funeral. The day he’d finally found the courage to leave home. His father wasn’t in any of those memories.
Over the years he’d managed to bury the anger, pain, and loss, but this morning there was no escaping the past and the wall that had built up between them. Somehow he was going to have to find a way over, under, or around it if he was going to walk through the front door.
Mason stepped out of the car, careful not to move too quickly. He looked up at the house and saw that his little brother had stepped out on the porch to greet him. He’d made the right decision, even if he didn’t understand the regret, guilt, and fear tangled up in his gut.
“It’s been too long.” Mason wrapped his brother in a big, one-armed bear hug.
“How are you?” Calvin took a step back. He had their mom’s blue eyes, their father’s nose and stubborn streak. “Can’t believe you got shot.”
“All in a day’s work. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, but Tulsa’s less than a two-hour flight from Atlanta.”
“That goes for you as well. But once that baby comes, I think I plan on showing up. How’s Sarah?”
“She wanted to be here, but the doctor won’t let her travel.”
Calvin and Sarah’s first child was due next month. A little girl they planned to name Emma Rose after Sarah’s grandmother. She was going to be their father’s first grandchild. Their aunt would have been proud.
His brother’s question broke the silence. “Are you ready for this?”
“I’m still not sure I want to go in there.”
“You didn’t fly all the way from Atlanta to back out now.”
“I did have a little encouragement on that side.” He’d wanted to pick up the phone a dozen times over the past twelve hours to check on Emily and see how she was. But he respected her need for space. Prayed that she’d have room for him in her life when he returned.
“A new girlfriend?”
“She’s … she’s just a friend.” For now.
“Listen to her, then. Sounds like she might be worth keeping.”
“She is.”
Funny how bad he wished she were here. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but so much had changed. And while he had no idea what the future held, he was certain about one thing. He had no desire to move forward without her. He’d spent the entire trip in prayer over his new relationship with Emily. And over his lost relationship with his father. Years of lost time. Mountains of regrets. Wondering if there was even a way to bridge the gap between them. Knowing that it probably wouldn’t have changed anything, but wondering anyway, if he’d tried harder …
Today was something he was going to have to face on his own. And no matter how badly he wanted to erase his past, lingering memories that had haunted him and the pain that came with them had become a part of who he was today. Emily had been right. It gave him the drive to help kids like Rafael and make a difference in the world. For that reason alone, he wouldn’t change anything.
“You can do this. We all can. No matter what happened in the past, we’re family.”
“I know.”
Only, his younger brothers didn’t remember their dad passed out on the floor, the women who’d come and gone, or all the times he’d left them alone.
“He loves you, Mason. He always has.”
Forgive him.
I don’t know how, Jesus.
“Come on.”
Mason followed Calvin through the front door. The living room had been set up with medical equipment against the back wall and a hospital bed in the middle of the remaining space.
Nathanial Taylor was smaller than Mason remembered. He wasn’t sure he’d even recognize him if he hadn’t seen an updated photo. He’d been told his father wasn’t going to live much longer, and by looking at him, he could see why. Face drawn, skin pale … this was the man he’d spent his life hating.
Mason and his father shared the same tall frame, thin nose, and cinnamon brown eyes, but beyond that they shared nothing. Not even the happy memories most children had of their fathers. On the flight, he’d worked to remember everything he could about his childhood when his father had been a part of it, but he couldn’t remember more than half a dozen fleeting incidents. The only good one was the baseball game. Either he had a really bad memory or there simply weren’t any other good memories to resurrect.
“You came.” His father’s voice was hoarse and unsteady.
Mason stopped at the side of the bed, not sure of what to say.
“I … I understand you’re a cop.”
“A detective. I work mostly undercover.”
“Detective. I’m impressed, though not surprised. I saw a story on the news this morning about that ransom case you just led. Heard you took a bullet and saved a young girl’s life.”
Mason reached for his injured shoulder. “It was nothing.”
“I bet it wasn’t nothing to that girl and her family. I’m proud of you. Always knew you’d turn out to be a fine young man.” He turned his face away and started coughing, the effort shaking his entire body.
Mason wanted to run out of the room. The smell of urine and antiseptics overpowered him. He hadn’t come here to listen to his father talk about how proud he was of him. He wasn’t sure why he’d come here.
Forgive him.
He shook his head. How could he forgive a man who walked out on his mother? Who’d drunk his paycheck week after week? Who’d left them with nothing?
God, I know what’s right, but how can I forgive him f
or what he did to our family?
Craig walked into the room and gave Mason a big hug, along with the reprieve he needed before turning back to his father.
“I wanted you all to be here. Together.”
Mason worked to curb the emotion as he stood between his two brothers at the side of their dying father.
“I … I lived my life regretting so many things,” his father continued. “Leaving your mother and you boys. Not being there when Sam died. Missing out on soccer games and science projects and senior proms. My first grandchild is about to be born, and I’m not even going to get to hold her.”
“There’s still a chance, Dad,” Calvin interrupted.
He shook his head. “I spent my life believing lies. Not anymore. I paid a lawyer to make out my will last month. I’m leaving the three of you everything I have. I figure you can sell this place and split the profits. It isn’t much, but hopefully it will help.”
Mason felt the lump of anger he’d been carrying swell. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want your money. There’s only one thing I ever wanted from you. I just wanted you to be there.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t, Son. I don’t know what else to say.”
Mason pressed his lips together and focused on a dark spot on the wall. He hadn’t heard his father call him “Son” for twenty years. Any apology seemed inadequate when placed beside a lifetime of hurt.
An apology couldn’t take away the look of pain on his mother’s face when she found out about his mistress. It couldn’t make up for all the birthday parties and soccer games missed, or bring back his brother Sam.
Sorry didn’t change anything.
“Why now? What’s changed to make you want to suddenly make up for all your failings as a father?” He knew the words would sting, but there was no sense not calling a spade a spade.
His father lowered his head. “Looking death in the eye can make you see things a lot more clearly.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Mason—” Calvin began.
His father tried to hold up his hand. “It’s okay. You deserve to be angry, and I deserve whatever you have to say. I know I wasn’t much of a father to you and I would be the first to admit it. I never knew how to show you that I loved you.”
He started coughing again. Mason took a step back. He’d thought that in coming, he’d somehow find a peace over his past. All he felt right now was a desire to run.
“I need to go.” Mason walked toward the door. Built-up anger swept through him. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Forgive him.
Mason grabbed the handle of the front door, then stopped.
Forgive him.
Mason paused, then let go of the handle and walked back across the room. He watched his father cough while trying to catch his breath. Helpless. Broken. He wouldn’t want to die that way. He didn’t want his father to die that way either.
He reached out and took his father’s bony hand. “I forgive you. I want … I just need you to know that.”
His father smiled and closed his eyes.
Mason was about to hang up when Emily finally answered the phone.
“Mason?”
“Emily … I … I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have called, it’s just that …”
“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you did.”
“I just wanted to make sure you are okay. Were you asleep?”
“Trying to. I couldn’t sleep at all last night. Too much swimming through my head.”
“You could take something. An over-the-counter sleeping pill.”
“I probably should, but what about you? Have you seen your father?”
“Yes, but … he passed away this afternoon.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Funny how I didn’t think it mattered, but now that he’s gone, there’s this huge aching hole inside me. I miss him.”
“Did you get to talk to him?”
“Yes. I told him I forgave him.”
There was a pause. “When are you coming back to Atlanta?”
“I need to stay a few days to help my brothers with the estate. I should be back by the weekend. Monday at the latest.”
“Call me when you get back, okay?”
Mason smiled. “I’d like that.”
38
Emily dumped the rest of the ice cream into one of her mother’s crystal bowls, then licked the spoon. She’d regret the indulgence tomorrow, but for tonight she was giving herself permission to feed her grieving heart. And her heart desperately needed a sugar overdose. Losing Charlie wasn’t the issue. She was long past that. But knowing he’d used her had left her feeling vulnerable.
Tossing the empty container into the trash, she hopped up on the stool at the kitchen bar and looked around her mother’s newly decorated kitchen. Maple cabinets with glass fronts. Slate flooring, painted brick on the walls. The details they’d agonized over seemed insignificant after all they’d gone through in the past week.
How could I have been so wrong about someone, God?
The furnace clicked on and Emily felt the blast of warm air against the back of her neck from the vent. She knew everyone was worried about her. Her mom, her dad. Avery … Grace had called to see how she was getting along. Had offered to stop by if she needed to talk. A dozen friends and teachers at school had left messages on her phone. Even their pastor had called to see if she needed any counseling. If she were honest with herself, she knew she did. Principal Farley had given her the week off, but she’d insisted she’d be back in school on Thursday. She couldn’t expect her students to show up when she was at home hiding under the covers.
“Hey, Sis. Save any for me?”
Emily licked the back of the spoon and shot Avery a guilty look as she limped into the room with her cane. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again today.”
Avery picked up the empty carton of cookie dough ice cream. “I can tell.”
“I think there might be another quart in the freezer, unless Daddy got to it before me.”
“I’m fine, actually.” Avery dropped her purse on the counter. “Jackson just took Tess and me out to dinner and I ate far too much. I knew Mama and Daddy were out as well, so I just stopped by on our way home to check on you and pick up Tess’s schoolbag. They’re waiting in the car so we could have a moment alone to chat.”
Finding a moment alone had never been easy in this household. But Emily knew Avery well enough to know that brushing her away would only make her push more.
“You’re not sleeping here tonight?”
“With all the animals, Tess and I decided it’s easier to be at home.”
“How’s your leg?”
“Sore, but I’ll live.” Avery eased her jacket off and laid it on the bar chair. “How are you?”
“Well, let’s see.” Emily took a bite of the ice cream, wondering if she’d ever be able to push aside the haunting memories. “I was held hostage, saw someone killed—or so I thought. Found out that my ex-fiancé never loved me, ended up shooting him, and was held at knifepoint by a murderous cartel agent, so yeah … it’s been quite a week so far, and it’s only Tuesday.”
Avery set her hands on her hips and shook her head. “So, I’ll repeat my question. How are you? Sister to sister.”
“Sister to sister? Tired. Relieved. Grateful for what I have. Wondering how you do what you do day after day. I’ve never been in a situation where I felt completely out of control like that.” Recent memories surfaced as they’d been doing all day. It was going to take a long time for them to fade. “Like no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the inevitable from happening.”
“I do the same thing you do. Take one day at a time. And pray that somehow, maybe I can make a difference in this crazy, mixed-up world.” Avery caught Emily’s gaze. “Just like you with your students.”
Emily shook her head. “At least what I do doesn’t involve criminals and flying bullets.”
Avery�
��s hand moved to her bandaged thigh. “There are days I could do without that part.”
“What about Tess?” Emily caught the worry in her sister’s eyes as she took another bite of ice cream. It was one thing to experience a terrifying situation, but for your child to have lived through it … “How is she handling things?”
Avery’s brow furrowed. “She’ll be going to counseling for a while to work through things—something she’s nervous about—but I know it’s important for her healing. She’s had to deal with a lot over the past few years, and now I’m worried about how yesterday’s trauma will impact her.”
“What happened yesterday affected all of us. You. Jackson. Mama. Dad. Mason. I also think it made us—or at least me—realize that life is too short to squabble about things that don’t matter. Have you talked any with Mama today?”
“We talked while you were taking a nap,” Avery said. “She’s battling with guilt over dropping Tess off late, convinced if she’d been on time, Tess would have been in her classroom and safe.”
“We can’t know that.”
“I told her that.” Avery reached out and squeezed her hand. “I know you’ve been told this, but if you need someone to talk to about what happened, I’m always here for you.”
“I know.” Emily nodded, not wanting to take for granted the support being offered. “I just need some space to work through everything. As for you, I’m glad you have Jackson to help you through this.”
“I can’t imagine a better man for Tess and me, and while I realize the road ahead isn’t going to be smooth at every turn, he’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. He makes me happy, pushes me to be a better person, loves me …” Avery cocked her head. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
