Landon slipped his hand in hers, and Ashley squeezed his fingers. She found Reagan’s eyes again. “How’s he doing?”
“Great.” She stared at her hands and twisted her fingers together. Maybe the small talk was making her nervous. All of them knew the issues that lay ahead.
Ashley couldn’t wait another minute. She used her mothering voice, the one she spoke in when her son needed reassuring. “What happened, Reagan? Can you tell me?” She looked from Landon to Reagan again. “You and Luke were so…I never thought…”
Reagan shook her head, her eyes still down. “The whole thing was crazy, something we never meant to happen.” She looked up and fresh tears made her eyes glisten. “It happened September tenth, while we were watching the Giants game.” Reagan hesitated as though she might say something else, but then she brought her lips together.
Pushing the girl would be neither kind nor helpful, so Ashley took her time with the next question. “Okay, now, Reagan, help me here.” Ashley slid forward in her seat and felt Landon tighten the grip he had on her hand. “You came home and probably didn’t find out you were pregnant for several weeks, right?”
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you talk to Luke? Why didn’t you take his calls?” Ashley kept her tone even, nonthreatening. “He phoned every day, didn’t he?”
A jagged sigh slipped from between Reagan’s clenched teeth. As she looked up, a teardrop rolled down her cheek, and she stopped it with her fingertips. “You, Ashley, of all people—” her gaze was direct, her eyes locked on Ashley’s—“should know why I didn’t want to talk to him.”
Ashley was about to protest, to assure Reagan that she could think of no reasons why the girl would summarily cut Luke out of her life. But a realization took shape in her heart. He’d done the same thing to her, hadn’t he? When she returned from Paris, pregnant and alone. For years he talked to her only out of necessity, and then without so much as a hint of kindness.
Luke hadn’t understood failure, but there were some things he’d known even less about. Grace…forgiveness…mercy.
A rush of sorrow filled Ashley’s heart. She released Landon’s hand and moved to sit next to Reagan. “I’m sorry.” Their eyes still held. “I never thought about that.”
Without any words, Reagan slipped her arms around Ashley’s neck and the two of them hugged. Tears came for both of them then. Hadn’t that been the hardest part of coming home from Paris? Luke’s cold response, the way he’d written Ashley off as unworthy of the Baxter name? He’d refused to treat her as anything but an outcast. Reagan had seen that treatment firsthand.
No wonder she hadn’t taken his calls.
Ashley pulled back and searched Reagan’s eyes. “He’s not like that anymore, Reagan. I don’t think—” she sniffed—“I don’t think he would’ve treated you like that. I really don’t.”
Landon coughed twice and motioned toward a door. “Can I get some water?”
“Sure.” Reagan gave him a quick glance.
Ashley watched him go. He knew his way to the kitchen, but clearly he’d told her the truth. He was Reagan’s friend, nothing more.
Reagan dried her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “Nothing was the same after that night.” She paused and slid back a few inches on her seat. “Within an hour I became like any other girl. Cheap…easy…used.” She sniffed again. “I knew Luke would never think of me the same again. Even if he did call.”
Landon returned with three glasses of water and three coasters. He passed them out and took his seat again.
Ashley barely noticed. “Did Luke tell you that? Did he say anything to make you think his feelings for you had changed?”
“I just knew. Luke wanted everything perfect, and after that night it wasn’t. It never would be again.”
Some of Reagan’s story filled in the missing pieces in Luke’s recent history, the part Ashley hadn’t understood but had somehow known was there. She remembered how quiet Luke had been in the days after September 11. He’d had a reason, of course. Reagan’s father was among the missing, feared dead. But something else had bothered him, and now Ashley understood.
She looked hard at the woman next to her. “September eleventh changed him, Reagan.”
“That’s what your mother said.” Her expression fell, and she focused on a spot near her shoes. “He’s forgotten who he was.”
“His life’s a mess.” Ashley’s heartbeat picked up. This had to be the reason God wanted her to see Reagan, to let her know about the other changes. “But something else is different.” She hesitated. “Remember that afternoon at the bus stop?”
“Yes.” Reagan looked up. “Landon told me you’d taken him.”
“Right.” Landon coughed again and cut into the conversation. “Reagan and I sat by each other on the bus and tried to guess whether you and Luke would see each other in the bus terminal.”
“We did.” Ashley had never told this story to anyone but her parents. Not even to Landon. He hadn’t been home long enough to get those kinds of details last winter. She grabbed a quick breath. “Luke…” She shook her head, overcome with sorrow for her little brother. He’d tried so hard to be good, and that day at the bus station had been proof that his heart of tenderness hadn’t died when she returned from Paris.
And nothing since then could’ve made it die either.
Landon and Reagan were waiting. She swallowed and found her voice. “He cried and hugged me…like a little boy. The way he hugged me a long time ago, when I left for Paris. He told me he was so sorry.” She looked at Reagan. “He’s been broken ever since you left, Reagan. And in that one hug I felt his heart again. Scared and unsure and hanging on because he knew when he let go, your bus would be gone. And nothing would be the same again.”
Tears spilled onto Reagan’s cheeks again. “So…you and Luke are okay?”
“Yes.” Ashley slipped an arm around her shoulders and smiled through her tears. “He’s made a lot of bad choices; I can’t disagree with that. But I watch his eyes when someone mentions you, Reagan. He still loves you.” She blinked back the wetness. “He’s scared and lonely and confused. He’s a lot of things, but he has nothing against you. That much I know.”
In another room a baby’s cry filled the spaces between them. At the sound of it, Ashley’s breath caught. The lusty cries belonged to her brother’s son. A child who was Cole’s cousin, a Baxter. She removed her arm from Reagan’s shoulders and patted her knee. Her voice was a ragged whisper. “May I see him?”
Reagan nodded, and a single, small sob escaped from her throat. She brought her fingers to her lips, stood, and left the room.
When she was gone, Landon took her spot, nestling himself close against Ashley. He kissed the side of her head and whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
Ashley pressed into him and turned so they were facing each other. Somewhere in the back of the apartment, the baby stopped crying, and Ashley’s heart skipped a beat. She would meet her little nephew soon, but right now all she could think about was Landon.
So many feelings vied for her attention. Her brother’s pain…the son he knew nothing of…Landon, so close, so real, his presence filling her senses, but for so short a time. She took his chin in her fingers and leaned up until their lips met. Their kiss was laced with sadness and lasted only a few moments. When she drew back she studied his eyes, willing him to see how she cared for him, how she would freeze this moment and stay here beside him forever if she could.
“I love you, too.” She kissed him again, but the sound of footsteps made her drop her hands and sit back.
Reagan entered through a doorway at the other end of the room. She was carrying the baby, bundled in a blue blanket. The pain and guilt had fallen from her expression. Instead undeniable pride filled her eyes, and the hint of a smile played on her lips. No matter what else had gone wrong for Reagan, one thing was certain.
She loved her baby.
Ashley stood and saw her nephew’s tiny hands stretch above th
e blanket, his fingers moving in that graceful, angel-boy way, the way Cole’s had moved when he was a newborn. Landon stayed seated as Reagan walked up.
“Here.” She held out her son. “His name is Thomas Luke, but I call him Tommy.”
“Thomas Luke.” Ashley’s voice cracked as the name sounded on her lips. She’d been too shocked to ask about the baby’s name, and now here she was, staring into the face of her brother’s namesake, his firstborn. She reached out and took the baby, cradling him in her arms as her heart melted with the warm, bundled-up weight of him against her chest.
That first look, the first moment when she allowed her eyes to fully take in the sight of him, made her lips part and caused her next breath to come sharp and fast. Photographs of the Baxter kids as babies hung in her parents’ house. And looking at Luke’s son was like watching her brother’s baby picture come to life.
He looked exactly like Luke.
“Oh, Reagan.” Ashley lifted her eyes. “He’s beautiful.”
“I know.” Reagan’s smile filled her face now, and even her swollen eyes couldn’t dim the joy exploding in her heart over this child of hers. This child of Luke’s.
Next to her, Ashley felt Landon give her leg a gentle squeeze, his way of telling her he cared about what she was feeling. But he remained seated, so very Landon, leaving this moment to her. Her eyes found the baby’s face again. As long as she lived this picture would stay with her, his full lips and pale blue eyes, the white blond fuzz of his eyebrows and the shape of his head.
The baby blinked and looked at her, and suddenly she was four years old again, cradling her little brother, whispering to him.
“Hi, Wuke-y. I’m your big sister, Ashwee.” Ashley grinned at the memory. Back then, all her Ls sounded like Ws. “I’m going to be your bestest sister and you know what? I wuv you so much, Wuke-y.”
The memory was maybe her earliest of all, holding Luke, loving him, promising to be his best sister. And now, as Luke’s son studied her face, she sensed him becoming a part of who she was, her heritage.
“Hi, sweet boy.” She nuzzled her face against him, and thoughts came that she couldn’t bring herself to voice. I hope I get to see you grow up, little baby. And that this isn’t the last time I’ll ever hold you. I hope you’ll get to know your daddy someday.
She straightened and brushed her knuckles against his tiny hand. As she did, he gripped her little finger. Ashley stared at the spot where they were connected and willed the child never to let go, never forget that he had a family not just here in this Manhattan apartment but also a thousand miles away. She leaned close to him again. He smelled of new life and baby powder. She soaked in his nearness, his breath mingling with hers as she kissed his cheek.
A sudden, sad thought came to her. Her father and Luke weren’t speaking, so even if this baby did meet his father, the chance existed that he might never meet his grandfather. Might never have the chance to run in the fields outside the Baxter house or skip rocks in the stream out back.
Please, God, bring Luke home. Restore our family…please.
A shadow stretched over the moment. Where was Luke now? How would he feel if he knew she had held his son before he did? What pain would it cause him to discover he’d fathered this baby? Most of all, how could she return to Bloomington and not tell him after seeing his son, feeling him in her arms? Thomas Luke couldn’t grow up without a father, without Luke’s ever knowing about him, no matter what Reagan thought.
For much of the next half hour, Ashley held her brother’s baby. Too soon the visit ended and she had to hand him back to Reagan.
Landon led her to the door, and Reagan and the baby followed. They stopped in the foyer to say good-bye.
Ashley came up beside Reagan and took a final look at Thomas Luke. Her eyes met Reagan’s, and Ashley hesitated. “You have to tell him.” She let her gaze fall to the baby once more. “Luke needs to know he has a son.”
Landon anchored himself at Ashley’s other side and remained quiet except for his occasional cough. He hadn’t been able to get rid of the cough he picked up at Ground Zero.
Reagan took a step backward. “Luke is living with someone. Everything would be a mess for all of us if I told him now.”
Ashley didn’t blink. Instead her voice fell a notch, and she kept her gaze locked on Reagan’s. “And everything will be a mess for your son if you don’t.”
Reagan bit her lip, and for a long while none of them said anything, but clearly Ashley’s words had hit their mark. The tears in Reagan’s eyes told her that much.
“I’ll tell him.” Reagan leaned closer to her son and wiped her cheek on his blanket. “When the time is right I’ll tell him. Until then—” she looked from Ashley to Landon and back again—“please, don’t tell anyone else. I…I need to figure things out myself. Okay?”
Ashley wanted more time to consider Reagan’s plea. Minutes ago, when she’d been holding Thomas Luke, Ashley knew exactly what she’d do when she got back to Bloomington. She’d drive to Luke’s apartment and tell him the truth. He was a father. He needed to get on an airplane, get to New York, and take his rightful place in Reagan’s life.
Whether Reagan wanted that or not.
But now the pain and fear, the guilt and uncertainty in Reagan’s eyes made Ashley hesitate, if only because they reminded her of herself, the way she’d looked and felt when she returned from Paris. Her choices up to that point might have been bad, and she might not have had a clue where she was going from there, but Cole was her son, and she wanted to make the decisions that impacted him.
Ashley closed her eyes. When she opened them, she gave Reagan a single nod. “Okay.” A ribbon of pain tied itself around her heart. How long would Reagan wait? How many days or weeks or months? How many years even before Luke would know about this child if she, his bestest sister, didn’t tell him?
Reagan relaxed her hold on Thomas Luke and gave Ashley a look of gratitude that convinced Ashley she had made the right choice. “Thank you.” She ran her tongue along her lower lip. “I’ll tell him. I will tell him. Just give me a chance to make a plan.”
Ashley took the few steps that separated them and hugged both Reagan and the baby. “I will.” She looked at Luke’s son one last time and uttered her next words without looking at Reagan. “But hurry, please. This might be how God brings Luke back.”
They said their good-byes, and not until she and Landon were down the hallway near the elevator did Ashley’s tears come in earnest. Landon wrapped his arms around her and held her even after the descending car came and left.
“Luke needs to see him.” Her words were muffled, spoken into Landon’s denim shirt.
“God knows that.” He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold on her.
“God knows it—” Ashley searched Landon’s face—“but does Reagan?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ASHLEY AND LANDON ate dinner at Casey’s Corner in a quiet booth near the back of the café. Then they walked across Central Park, and she took him to the gallery. It was closed, but her paintings were there. The one of Landon on the park bench at Ground Zero hung in the center of a window display, and Ashley’s other two were positioned not far beyond as the central part of another display.
“Ashley—” Landon had her hand in his, and he took a step closer—“it’s unbelievable.”
Her cheeks grew hot, and she rested her head against his arm. The work was one of her best, maybe her very best. Standing next to Landon now, admiring it, she saw it in a new light. “Thanks.”
“Your heart shouts from every stroke.” He did a half turn and searched her face. “I mean it.”
Her heart shouted from every stroke? How crazy had she been to look past this man? Ashley gave his hand a light squeeze and met his eyes again. “No one else sees that.”
“You’re wrong, Ash.” He looked at the painting in the window again. “Your work’s wonderful.” He chuckled. “That’s why it’s here.”
“
I don’t mean that.” She leaned against him. “I mean you’re the only one who sees my heart in every stroke.”
She hadn’t seen Landon’s apartment, and he took her there after the gallery. For an hour they talked about the Baxters—Kari and Ryan’s wedding, Erin and Sam moving to Texas, Brooke and Peter’s precious Maddie.
It was almost midnight when Ashley stood and wandered around his living room. He had a framed photo of Jalen and himself, and another of her and Cole. Hanging on the wall was a picture Cole had colored for him back before September 11. The view out his window was of a teeming intersection not far from the lights of Broadway.
“It’s nicer than I pictured.” She turned and caught Landon watching her. He’d slipped an instrumental disc in the CD player, and something familiar and melodic filled the room. With a flick of a switch he softened the lighting so that a subtle glow lit the rim of the room. She raised an eyebrow. “Much nicer.”
“Jalen’s parents bought it for him. They knew I was coming to work with him. They’d just paid to have it fixed up before…” He gave a boyish shrug of his shoulders. Sorrow played with his expression. “They charge me barely anything to stay here.”
She angled her head. Her heart was still full from the day’s wild ride of emotions. “You miss him.”
“Yes.” He slipped his thumbs into his pants pockets and moved toward her, his eyes locked on something just outside the window. When they were shoulder to shoulder, he coughed twice and cleared his throat. “Every time a call comes in I think what it would’ve been like, you know?” He turned slightly and his eyes found hers. “If he’d lived…if September eleventh hadn’t happened.”
She nodded. “I think about that, too.”
He looked out the window again, and his arm brushed against her shoulder. “Five minutes before that first plane hit, he had his life all figured out.” His eyes met hers again. “Makes you wonder.”
“When you came home those few days last December…” Ashley looked over her shoulder at the city below before she continued. “You said you thought you’d feel him with you on every call, at every fire.” She paused and found his eyes once more. “Is it like that?”
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