It was open now, the memories seething restlessly. There was something about the kindness she could see in his eyes, even in the dim moonlight, that made her want to lower her guard. All those memories swirled faster, until they threatened to pull her down with them. The fight with Rachel made everything seem so vivid.
“It’s ugly. So ugly.”
“Is this about your parents?” he guessed.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“You don’t have to tell me if you would rather not,” he said quietly. “I know you’re a private person and I understand and respect that.”
She sighed, petting Cinder. She found comfort and an odd sort of strength in the dog’s heat and the soft fur under her hands.
She would prefer to forget the whole thing but the box was open now. Perhaps the telling of it would help her gather all those memories and stuff them back where they belonged.
She released a shaky breath, twisting her hands in Cinder’s fur. “My parents married when my mother was only seventeen. My father was twenty-six.”
“A wide age difference.”
“Yes. Disproportionate in every way. They had a horrible relationship. My father was in the army and his favorite assignment was drill sergeant. He was the worst kind, cruel bordering on sadistic, and he ran our house just like his troops.”
“I know the type. I’m sorry.”
The compassion in his voice told her he understood exactly what she was talking about. “Our mom, Roni, adored him. She wouldn’t listen to a word against him. Even when he ground her self-confidence to nothing, she loved him.”
“Did he...abuse her?”
“Physically, no. At least not that we ever saw. In every other possible way, yes. He cheated on her, verbally abused her, made her feel like nothing. And basically did the same to me and Rachel.”
The darkness seemed to surround her and she was grateful for his presence, solid and reassuring. Not that she couldn’t fight off the memories herself but sometimes it was nice to have someone else there to give her strength.
“Your mother didn’t try to protect you?”
“All she ever saw was our father.” Jess had figured out even at a young age that their mother wasn’t healthy, either mentally or emotionally. Her complete, unquestioning loyalty to her husband, no matter how he treated her or their children, was wrong on every single level.
“I don’t want you to think it was all horrible. He was deployed for long stretches at a time, which was great. We could all relax for a time. And Rachel and I always had each other. We talked about how we were going to move out as soon as we could, just the two of us, and get a place together. We were going to go to college together. She was going to be a schoolteacher and I was going to be a veterinarian.”
She was silent, remembering nights in whatever base housing they currently called home when she and Rachel had talked long past midnight about what they would do when they were free of the tension inside their family.
Those dreams seemed so far away now. Another lifetime.
“I told you Doug cheated on Roni. He always made sure she knew, just to twist the knife. What would she do? Leave him? He knew she wouldn’t. He knew just how much she loved him, how far he could push her, and he used her love to control and manipulate. Looking back, I think it was a game to him. He was a sociopath at the least, more likely a psychopath.”
Her father had taken Roni’s love and twisted it to his own ends. It had been horrible to watch as an impressionable young girl. Even then, she had known it was wrong.
Her mother had loved him so much and Jess would have been surprised if Doug gave his wife and family even a passing thought throughout his day.
She was silent for a long time, listening to the wind and the waves and the dog’s soft breathing. She didn’t want to tell him the rest. How could she stop now, though?
“When I was fifteen and Rachel thirteen, he...pushed her past the breaking point. He threatened to leave, which of course was nothing new. I can’t count the times he had done it before. Something felt different this time and I think...I think she felt it, too. He started packing his bags, telling our mother the whole time about the other woman he was leaving her for. Her name was Susie. She was younger than Roni. Prettier. Smarter. Everything my mother had once been but that he had ground out of her over the years.”
Once upon a time, her mother had been soft, loving. Jess had flashes of memory of Roni reading to them, of her making cookies, of her playing dolls with them.
Sometimes it shocked her to remember her mother had been seventeen when she had Jess and would have only been a few years older than Jess was now when she died.
“This was apparently her breaking point. As he walked out into the living room with his suitcase, Mom followed him, begging him not to go. When he...when he laughed at her, she pulled out his own handgun that he kept stashed by their bed and, without saying a word, shot him three times in the heart.”
He inhaled sharply. “Oh, Jess.”
“A lot of that night is a blur. I do remember that Rachel and I both screamed. It went on and on. That seemed to wake Mom out of whatever trance or spell or whatever she had slipped into. She stared at us then she stared down at our father, who I think was dead before the second gunshot.”
This was the worst part, the part that had replayed over and over in her head for many years after that night. Sometimes she still woke up from dreaming about it, shaking and nauseous.
“Roni...our mother looked at us both one more time for maybe five seconds and then without another word, not even an ‘I’m sorry,’ she lifted the gun to her own head and squeezed the trigger.”
29
Nate
She had told him it was ugly. Nate didn’t know what he had been braced to hear but a murder-suicide where her mother had been the murderer probably wouldn’t have made the list.
He could feel her trembling, barely imperceptible shudders that broke his heart. He wasn’t sure she would welcome his touch but he couldn’t sit beside her and let her shake without at least trying to offer comfort.
Without asking permission, he eased an arm around her shoulders. After a frozen moment when he held his breath, thinking she would shove him onto the sand, she sagged against him, nestling in like a tiny bird finding safe shelter in a hailstorm.
“That’s what haunts me most,” she said after a long pause, speaking as if from some distant place. “Roni knew damn well we were there. She looked at us. It was like she didn’t even see us, like we didn’t matter one iota. I’m not sure she even spared a thought for us, for the carnage she was leaving behind in our lives. She didn’t care.”
Her voice wobbled a little, breaking his heart. “She knew and she didn’t care.”
Her trembling intensified and he sensed she was fighting back sobs. He wanted to tell her to let them go. She deserved to weep and cry and rail at the world. “I’m sorry. So damn sorry, Jess.”
She nodded against his chest but said nothing, just held him while she continued to shake.
He had to wonder how long it had been since she had let all this out. Had she ever?
He held her while the surf crashed into the shore and an owl hooted somewhere above them and the moon danced on the waves.
After a long time, her trembling began to ease. He wanted to think he had provided comfort. Given what he had learned about Jess Clayton during her time in Cape Sanctuary, he guessed she had simply won the battle against her emotions.
“So there you have the whole ugly story,” she said, sliding away from him and regaining control. “Our parents died in a murder-suicide when Rachel and I were teenagers.”
Violently.
That was how she had told him their parents died.
He had never dreamed the truth behind that single word would carry so much pain.
“How did you and Rachel end up separated?”
Her heavy sigh was filled with sadness, regret, pain. “After our parents died, we were immediately put into an emergency foster home. It wasn’t the greatest situation. I...acted out.”
“Acted out how?”
“I was in a fight with another girl. She had targeted Rachel, for some reason. She was the tough girl in the group home, the top dog, and I think she mistook Rachel’s sweet nature for weakness and pounced on it. I wasn’t sweet. Or weak.”
“I hope you kicked her ass.”
“Yeah,” she said simply. “I was unhappy and angry and wanted everyone there to know you didn’t mess with either of the Clayton sisters. But she told the staff I attacked her for no reason and they believed her, which meant I had an immediate black mark against me.”
She was quiet, absently petting Cinder, who was being shockingly well-behaved.
“After maybe six months in the group home, a spot opened up here in Cape Sanctuary with the Millers but they could only take one foster kid. Our social worker thought it would be a good fit for Rachel and I knew she needed to get out of the group home. So she came here and I stayed.”
It would have killed Jess to be separated from the sister she loved and adored, the one she had fought to protect.
She had lost everything.
“That must have been hard for you.”
She looked out to the vast darkness of the sea, her features tense in profile. “It worked out for the best, didn’t it? She loved it here. She met Cody, fell in love, worked hard to get good grades. Everything I would have wanted for her.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged and met his gaze. “I survived.”
That told him everything. His heart ached in his chest and he wanted to gather her against him again, to whisper that she was amazing and brave and she had done far more than just survive. She had thrived, under the weight of pain that would have made most people buckle at the knees.
“When did you join the army?”
“Right after high school. I needed direction, purpose. I figured at least I would have a place to sleep and three solid meals a day.”
“Not the first soldier to enlist for those reasons.”
“I also knew not every soldier was like my father. Most are good women and men wanting to serve their country. It turned out to be a good decision. I became a driver and loved it. I learned how to drive anything and everything, made it through two tours overseas and discovered important life lessons about myself and the world. That should be on a recruiting poster, right?”
He smiled, enchanted by this woman who could still crack jokes after sharing such a heartbreaking story about her past.
“How amazing that you came through it as strong and loving as you are. Both of you did. Rachel is terrific. I never would have guessed she had been through so much.”
“She is pretty amazing.” Jess was quiet. “I want her to have the perfect life she deserves. She’s struggling right now but I wish she could see that doesn’t change the fact that she’s a good mom who loves her kids. She would never in a million years think about abandoning them without a word.”
She was talking about her mother, he realized. Somehow he knew that abandonment, her mother’s decision first not to protect them then to leave her daughters to fend for themselves, hurt worse than all the years of emotional abuse handed down by her father.
Nate didn’t take the chance to tell his own mother how much he loved her often enough. He vowed right then he would do it every day until she died.
“So now you know the whole sordid story.”
“Thank you for telling me. Probably not the way you wanted to spend your thirtieth birthday, rehashing such tragic history.”
“I don’t like thinking about it, much less talking about it. But my fight with Rachel tonight kind of opened the door to all those memories. You were unfortunate enough to be here when I walked through.”
“Not unfortunate,” he said gruffly. “I’m honored you felt you could trust me enough to tell me.”
She sent him a sidelong look. “I’m still not completely sure why I did.”
He smiled. “My charming personality and overall good-guy demeanor.”
She gave a short laugh. “Yes. That must have been it. Also, I happen to adore your mother. She has become one of my favorite people. You might be benefitting—or suffering, depending on how you look at things—by association.”
“I’ll take it. And she adores you right back. So does Sophie.”
He had a hard time remembering his suspicions of Jess Clayton when she’d first come to Whitaker House. How had she become so entwined in all of their lives?
He was well on his way to falling in love with her.
The thought should have terrified him. He wasn’t interested in love again. Not now, anyway, when he was struggling to navigate through Sophie’s teenage years.
He hadn’t been looking for it but how could he help falling for Jess? She was everything he admired in a person. Tough and kind at the same time, with a deep core of sweetness he didn’t think she even recognized in herself.
Wasn’t it just his luck, to fall in love for the first time since Michelle with a woman who would be leaving in a matter of days?
He didn’t want to say goodbye.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel better after telling you.”
“I’m glad.”
She continued to pet the dog. “It just occurred to me that Rachel might not appreciate that you know,” she said after a few minutes. “She seems to have put everything about our past and our parents behind her here in Cape Sanctuary. I’m not sure who knows and who doesn’t.”
“I won’t say anything,” he promised.
“Thank you.”
They sat together for several more moments while that owl hooted again above the murmur of the sea. Clouds were gathering. He could see them beginning to build and the air had a wet, expectant feel to it that told him rain would be coming soon.
She finally shifted to face him. “Do you know what I really wanted for my thirtieth birthday?”
“Let me guess. A bigger Airstream?”
She smiled. “Vera is perfect as she is.”
Clouds drifted past the moon, lighting up the scene a little more and making her eyes sparkle as she studied him “No,” she whispered. “I wanted to kiss you again.”
Her words instantly stirred up all those feelings he had been trying to tamp down, the wild hunger growling to life again.
“Jess.”
He didn’t know what he intended to say but she shook her head slightly. “I know we shouldn’t. One more kiss won’t hurt, will it?”
Something told him it would. He would hate seeing her walk away in a few days.
How could any sane man resist such a soft entreaty?
He eased his mouth to hers and she seemed to sigh a welcome that shivered down his spine.
Her mouth tasted like raspberries and vanilla from her cake. Rich, luscious, addictive. He wasn’t sure exactly how but he miraculously managed to shove down the urge to kiss her fiercely, hungrily, with all the wild desire surging through him.
Instead, he instinctively knew this night, this kiss, required gentleness. He kissed her slowly, softly, exploring each delicious inch of her mouth.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing against him, and he wanted this kiss to last forever.
Tenderness for her, this brave, tough, wounded woman, curled through him.
He wanted to make love to her. To lay her down onto the sand and spend the night trying to ease her pain however he could.
He couldn’t do that, as tempting as he found the idea. For one thing, he would be an ass to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable, exposed moment. She had confided in h
im, something he knew she likely didn’t do often. That she had trusted him with this difficult part of her past humbled and amazed him.
How could he turn around and betray that trust by pushing her to do things she already had made it clear she didn’t want?
For another thing, it was starting to rain. He could feel small, misty drops on his head, trickling down his neck.
Ending the kiss was the last thing he wanted to do but concern for her well-being beat out his profound desire to stay exactly where they were.
He suspected the sky would unleash a downpour on them in another few minutes.
Calling on all his self-control, he lifted his head. She blinked, skin immediately dewy with rain.
“Oh. It’s raining,” she murmured. He probably shouldn’t find it so intensely, powerfully seductive that she hadn’t even noticed.
“Yes.” He eased a little farther away. “We should go. The path can be slippery enough when it isn’t raining, especially the steep parts.”
She sighed, looking a little lost. “I wish we didn’t have to. I wish we could stay right here.”
“So do I,” he said gruffly. “But I would hate for you to catch pneumonia on your birthday.”
With another sigh, she rose and wiped off sand from the bench. He grabbed Cinder’s leash and his flashlight in one hand and her hand in the other and they made their way to the path.
He really should build some sort of shelter down there. A gazebo or even a shed where they could store the boards, kayaks and other water equipment. His dad had never wanted anything down there, concerned it would mar the view.
Your grandfather never wanted anything that shows the hand of man down there, Jack used to say. I feel the same. When I’m in the cove, I like to believe I’m alone with the sea and the sky and nothing else.
His father had relented enough to put in the bench for Eleanor. Nate regretted now that he had never followed through with building a structure, so they could have had a dry place to wait out the storm.
The rain started in earnest when they were about halfway back to her trailer, pouring in sheets that obscured his vision.
The Path to Sunshine Cove Page 21
