by Kay Stockham
“What is—Oh, Jack.”
“I saw this sign outside a store in town. It said this represented the journey we take with the person we love.” He opened the box, the five diamonds inside linked together varying in sizes from smallest to largest and dangled from a fragile chain. “This—us—definitely qualifies as a journey.” Marley’s mouth parted as she gazed at the necklace. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful.” Tears sparkled in her eyes once more and she blinked rapidly. “Put it on me?”
Seconds later he smoothed the necklace into place at her throat, staring at the diamonds and watching them shine in the light. “Marley, why should they forget what I did? How I acted?”
She trailed her fingers over the diamonds while lifting her chin, determination and grit stamped on her face. “Because they love you. And people do stupid things. And you were all at fault.”
He smoothed his hand over her hair, loving the feel of it. She’d worn it down and loose for him. “You understand. That’s all that matters.”
“No, Jack, it’s—”
The door behind them opened. “Joe, do you know where we put the bag for Max’s bike? I can’t—”
Jack tensed and whirled around so fast one of his feet slipped on the air-dampened brick. Blood pumped past his ears in loud gushes, but it didn’t drown out the sound of Marley’s gasp.
Because of the woman’s words, he searched the shadows of the trellised porch but didn’t see anyone until he moved to the steps, Marley’s hand gripped tight in his. A man stood up from where he’d sat on a porch swing, a thick blanket draped over his chest, shock apparent on his face.
Joe?
The dark-haired woman gasped when she got a good look at Jack, her gaze narrowing on him, sliding to Joe, then back to him again. She was the woman in the newspaper article, the one who’d been listed as Joe’s fiancée. A wedding ring sparkled on her finger.
“Joe?”
“I don’t know what’s going on,” his brother said in response to the question in her voice.
Jack opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare at Joe. Light spilled from the open doorway, allowing him to make out his brother’s features. One glance said it all. Joe was bigger, broader, tougher. Prison had taken a toll. But he looked good. Happy.
“Ashley? Don’t forget about the stuff you hid in my closet. Do you want me to go get it?”
Pop. His knees turned to rubber in an instant. Pop was there? He hadn’t been able to find a listing for him. If he lived there that made sense.
Jack’s hand tightened on Marley’s, but he didn’t take his eyes off the man behind Joe’s wife.
The woman—Ashley—stepped out onto the porch and moved to Joe’s side. Pop followed. “Ashley? Do you want—”
Pop saw him and paled so quickly Jack was afraid the shock was too much for him.
Joe shifted slightly and drew his attention and for the first time he noticed the blanket Joe held was pink.
Pink. A baby?
Barely able to force air in and out of his chest, he had a hard time tearing his gaze away from the tiny mound of pink to look at them all again. Joe and his wife. Pop. In their faces he recognized shock, curiosity and…Relief?
His brain shut down, his throat locked up. He needed to speak, to be the first to say something, but how did a person apologize for the kind of pain he’d caused?
Fighting tears and losing the battle, his gaze shifted to the bundle of pink cradled so protectively against Joe’s broad chest. How could he ever have thought Joe would hurt his baby girl?
“I’m sorry.” The words emerged thick, raw, barely recognizable. He shook his head but kept his gaze on the sleeping baby, unable to look Joe or his Pop in the eyes. Ashamed that he hadn’t believed in them, in the family. “I’m sorry.”
Pop charged forward and Jack barely registered the sight of his father’s tears before Pop pulled him into a hug, his whole body shaking.
“They said you were dead. We buried you.”
“I know. It’s a long story. I was hurt, but I’m here. Pop, I’m sorry.”
“No. No more of that now.”
“I have to say it.” He buried his nose in his father’s shoulder and held tight. “I should’ve been stronger. I’m sorry I took the coward’s way out.”
“You did what you had to do. I didn’t mean what I said, either. But that’s done now. Over, you hear me? Jack—” Pop drew back and palmed his face. “Jack, you’re home. Praise God, you’re alive!”
Smiling, he pulled Pop’s hands from his cheeks and stepped back. There was more to say. He held his hand open and Marley’s palm slipped into his, clasped tight in support and love as she moved to stand beside him. When he finally worked up the nerve to look at his brother, Joe’s gaze was stark, full of memories and pain.
“I’m sorry. It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, but I was wrong and…I should’ve believed in you. I should’ve believed in my brother. Joe, is there any way you can forgive me?”
Silence followed his words. Madonna’s breathless version of “Santa Baby” played somewhere in the house, and then Angel’s voice filled the air as her on-air personality, Delilah Kane. Still, Joe said nothing.
Swallowing, he accepted that as his answer. “The—” he had to stop and clear his throat “—the military will be in contact soon.” He turned to walk away.
“Jack.”
Marley’s fingers tightened on his, squeezed hard when he didn’t immediately turn around. He stared into her eyes and found the courage to face Joe again.
His brother moved close and wrapped an arm around him, pulled him to his side so that they hugged, mindful of the baby between them. “What took you so long, little brother?”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0874-6
A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER
Copyright © 2007 by Dorma Kay Stockham.
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