The Way Home

by Jean Brashear

  “I remembered that I have Italian blood.”

  “But of course.” Luisa grinned again. “There is a spare set of dishes. I did not use them all on Romeo before he was lost to me.”

  Bella sobered. “I’m so sorry.” She opened her arms. “I wish you could have him back.”

  Luisa accepted her embrace. “As do I. But you still have time with your James, God willing.” She leaned back. “One can never be sure how much. And each day not savored is wasted.”

  Bella sighed, feeling drained by the whirlwind of emotions she’d experienced in less than a day.

  “I have to talk to him.” Urgency gripped her. “I have to find out where he is.”

  “Get dressed and eat. Your children are on the case. Your son is flying here to pick you up.”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “When you returned to your senses and remembered the man who offered to give you up, if that’s what you honestly wished.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “Dr. Sam. Your James told him that just before he left. But he threatened Dr. Sam if he should ever hurt you.”

  “James thinks I want…Sam? He gave me to Sam?” Fury raced past her worry. “Who does he think he is?”

  “A man who is hurting. Who has lost his true love and believes that he cannot be forgiven.” Luisa patted her cheek. “But who seeks to protect her still.”

  Her temper spiked even as her heart twisted.

  The man was an idiot.

  And too blasted noble for his own good.

  “Maybe I’ll borrow your skillet until I get home to mine,” she said grimly.

  Luisa chuckled. “I will help you pack.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WHEN THE PLANE taxied to the lone hangar, Cameron’s grin was huge. He leaped from the pilot’s seat and charged to her. “Mom! Is it true? Do you remember?”

  She smiled. Cupped his cheek. “Not everything, not the accident, but you?” Her vision blurred. “How could I forget my baby boy?” She laughed when he winced. Opened her arms to him.

  “You don’t recall that we agreed no more of the baby-boy stuff?” But he was hugging her so hard she could barely breathe.

  “I do,” she said finally. “But you are my baby.”

  “Yeah, so deal, baby bro,” sounded another voice from behind him.

  “Oh!” Bella broke the hug. “I didn’t see you, Muffin. How wonderful! Come here.”

  No hesitation from her daughter this time. Cele rushed into her embrace and held on tight. “Mama,” was all she said. Her shoulders shook.

  Bella snugged her daughter closer, then widened the circle to include Cam. So sweet, so unbearably precious to feel their love surround her.

  Another bit of home.

  At last, Cam spoke, his voice a little rough as he swiped at his eyes. “There’s another storm system headed this way. We really should get going.”

  “Where is your father? Is he all right?”

  Cam shifted. Shrugged.

  Bella faced Cele. “Is he home?”

  “As of this morning.” The two exchanged glances.

  “What aren’t you saying?”

  Finally, Cele answered. “He told us what happened. What he did. That you’d left him when you went on your trip. And when you remembered, you threw him out.”

  “I yelled at him,” Cam admitted. “What an asshole.”

  “Don’t speak of your father that way,” Bella said sharply.

  “But he—”

  “What happened is between your father and me. It doesn’t change our love for you one whit.”

  “Are you getting a divorce?” Ever the realist, Cele was the one to ask.

  But she seemed a small girl again as she did.

  How hard this must be for them, after all they’d been through, to have their hopes dashed. She’d remembered, as they’d longed for her to do…and because of it, they might lose their family yet.

  “I can’t say.” At their crestfallen expressions, she continued, “I hope not.” She’d progressed that far, at least.

  “But things will have to change.” That much she knew.

  “They already are,” Cam piped up.

  Cele dug her elbow into his ribs. “Hush.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not a thing,” Cele said with a murderous glare at her sibling.

  “Yeah. Uh, we should get going,” he said.

  “What are you hiding? Is he all right?”

  “I don’t think so.” At Bella’s gasp, Cele hastened to reassure her. “He’s not physically hurt or anything, at least no more than he was when you last saw him.”

  At which point, he was more than a bit banged up. Sam was still limping around and sporting a huge shiner plus assorted scrapes and bruises.

  “Explain what you mean, then.”

  Both shook their heads. “It’s not our place, Mama,” Cele said. “This is between you and Daddy.”

  True. Even if she could dig more out of them, in the final analysis, she and James had to work through their problems themselves.

  “All right,” she said, and squeezed them both. “Give me a minute to say goodbye to Luisa and Sam. Then let’s go home.”

  Her children beamed with such hope that she played her part.

  But she would only know for certain what she would do when she encountered James.

  THE SENSE OF HOMECOMING was sharp and bittersweet. The sight of the house brought tears to her eyes. She’d lived in it with James for more than thirty-five years now. Before him, she’d never been in one spot for more than a matter of months.

  They’d brought their babies home to this house. Fought and made up, dreamed and schemed and played beneath the wide, welcoming eaves.

  Every bush and flower, each tree had felt the touch of her hands. She loved every brick and stick of this place.

  But she didn’t know if it would ever again be the refuge she remembered.

  “He’s so sad, Mama,” Cele murmured.

  Bella pressed her forehead against the window glass. “So am I, Muffin.”

  “Can you fix it?” Cam asked, sounding more like nine than nineteen.

  “That isn’t all up to me.” She stepped out. Clasped the door handle. “But whatever happens between your father and me doesn’t change how much we love you. I can’t make promises, except that I will try.” She smiled at their wistful faces, so young and worried, though her stomach was a bundle of nerves. “I love you both.”

  “Love you, too, Mama.”

  “You’ll be okay?” Cam asked, as if he must protect her now.

  “Of course.” She blew them a kiss. “I’ll call you.” When they hesitated, she shooed with her fingers. “Go on.”

  She watched them leave, waving until they were out of view.

  Then she set out to discover what would become of her life.

  HE HADN’T SLEPT since he’d departed Lucky Draw. To work with power tools in such a state was beyond foolish.

  But, he acknowledged wryly, he’d already been far more stupid.

  He’d done a lot of thinking. Made some calls, set plans into motion. Then he’d needed to channel the nervous energy, so he’d put his hands to work while his mind churned.

  He hadn’t learned the craft of woodworking from his dad, who’d been content to run the plant and support his family. His grandfather had been the one to teach him, to see promise in him. They’d passed many hours together with these very tools, which James inherited when Granddad had died.

  He’d tried out newer tools, but only the old ones felt truly right. At the moment, shaping the wood soothed him as nothing else ever had.

  Except spending time with Bella.

  He had to stop thinking about her. He forced his mind back to the piece he was finishing. How had he lost sight of what this did for him? For years and years, all his energies had been drained by running the plant, by plotting cash flow and liquidity ratios, inventorying stock or perusing orde
rs.

  Once he’d designed most of what they built. Made the prototypes himself. It had been nearly a decade since he’d even sketched out a piece, much less made one.

  This felt good. Damn good.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  He dropped the sanding block, grateful he hadn’t been operating a saw. He’d be minus a finger or two now.

  Slowly, he turned.

  And there she stood.

  “It’s you who’s beautiful,” he said, his voice gone husky.

  An uncertain smile flashed at him, then vanished. He couldn’t decide if he should be heartened by her nerves.

  Before he could, she moved past him. Stroked the wood as he wondered if she’d ever stroke him again.

  “You remembered.” Her own voice was low and a little shaky.

  “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it.” He shoved away from the workbench. “I’m so very sorry for everything.”

  “Don’t. You’ve already said that.”

  He heard her tears. “What can I do, Bella? I’ll say it a hundred times a day for the rest of my life if that’s what you want. Do you need me to crawl? How can I make you understand that I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, that I’d sell my soul to change it, but I can’t. I can’t, goddamn it, and that makes me sick. I make me sick because I hurt you, the most important person in my world, and we’re going to lose everything, and it’s my own blasted fault—” He snagged the sanding block, hurled it at the wall.

  Dropped his head as his chest heaved. Felt his hope drain away at her silence.

  He straightened, itching to move. To escape the agony.

  But she was already at his back, curving herself against him. “It isn’t all your fault,” she said softly, and put her arms around his waist.

  He shuddered with renewed hope. With relief that she was touching him. But he couldn’t let himself off the hook that easily. “It is.” He clasped her hands to keep her close but revolved in her arms. “It is.”

  “No. We lost each other, James. I’m not sure how. I was so afraid when we first met—”

  “You?” He goggled. “You were fearless.”

  “When you’ve been tossed around from house to house, always the fifth wheel, the burden, you learn not to admit that you’re scared or people will take advantage of it.

  “But I was terrified all the time that you’d be like the others and change your mind. That the prince would get tired of the beggar girl. So I set out to make a home so strong, so invulnerable that nothing could ever threaten us. Where you’d be so happy that you wouldn’t leave me the way everyone else had.” Sorrow crept over her beloved features. “But it never dawned on me that we could be the threats ourselves. Me, so sad after the kids left home, and you, beleaguered by the business.” She lifted her gaze to his. “We went astray, James. We forgot what made us strong. And after all that happened, once I remembered again about—” she cleared her throat “—her, well, it was like the first days again. I was all by myself, unsure what would become of me. If anyone would ever give me a home.”

  “I am so—”

  She hushed him with fingers across his lips. “No more sorrys, remember? If we’re to have a chance—”

  He gripped her. “Are we? Do you want to try again?”

  “Luisa posed a question when I was so angry and hurt.” She looked at him. “So afraid.” After a moment, she continued, “She challenged me to tally the pluses and minuses, even this big minus, and calculate how they would all balance out.”

  He was almost afraid to ask, but did anyway. “So how did I score?”

  A quick grin, a faint flicker of her old mischief. “It took me a while. I was more interested in throwing dishes at the time.”

  “Did you?”

  She nodded. “Luisa had a set she hadn’t used up on her Romeo. I finished it off.”

  “And?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know how to forget what happened. The very thought of that woman with you makes me sick to my stomach.” She placed one hand on his belly. “This body is mine.” Her voice was a growl. “Mine, do you hear me? The idea of another woman’s hands touching you, being touched—”

  She shoved away. “If I think of it, I can’t bear it. I’d like to kill her.” She glared. “Sometimes I’d like to kill you.”

  His shoulders sank and he turned to go, but she grabbed his elbow. “I can’t forget yet, James. Maybe I never will.” Her voice wavered. “But I want to forgive you. I need to.”

  For a minute, what she’d said didn’t register. He’d thought she was telling him they were through for certain, but then—

  He wheeled. “Forgive me? Is that what you said?” All the world seem to go so still he could hear his heart pound.

  She nodded. “I hate that it happened, hate it so much I can’t breathe—but however furious I am, I could never hate you, James. If I’d paid more attention, if I hadn’t been so absorbed in my own misery—”

  He crushed her against him. Could not speak for the staggering relief rushing through him so fast his head was light.

  Then he held her at arm’s length. “I’m changing things. I’ve begun the process to step down. I’ll have to work with Cele until she’s ready, but I’ve already told everyone that she’ll be assuming a greater share of responsibility. She’s excited about it. And the second that it’s possible, we’re going on a long trip to visit all the places you’ve wanted to see. Do any crazy thing you’ve ever dreamed of.”

  Her eyes were wide and stunned. “What—I don’t—” she blinked. “What are you saying?”

  “That I love you, Bella. More than my life. More than anything or anyone in the world, and we’re not putting off dreams one day longer than absolutely necessary. I hadn’t realized what I’d done to you, not until you were gone. I trapped a butterfly and caged her. You were meant to fly, my love, not plod along with the ants.”

  “But—”

  He herded her toward the glider that she’d wished for so often. “And neither am I—only, I never realized it. You freed me once, Bella, and I walked right back into the cell, dragging you with me. This is what I’m good at, not running the company.”

  “But the business. You love it.”

  “I love the history, but I was only a caretaker at heart. It’s time for the next generation to step up. I was little older than Cele when I was put at the helm, and she’s far better suited than me. I won’t leave her until she’s comfortable, but it won’t be long, I promise you.”

  He swiveled her back to face him. “Will you wait for me? I swear I’ll be home early every night, and we’ll spend this time planning our travels. Then, when we’ve seen all you want, maybe we can return home and laze beneath the trees in this glider you’ve been wishing I’d build for years.”

  “Maybe I don’t care about traveling anymore,” she said.

  “That’s your decision. I’ve made mine. I’m getting back to what’s important—you and me.”

  She fell silent. He forced himself to remain still, taking heart from her fingers caressing the wood of the glider.

  “I don’t feel like I’m really home yet.” Her eyes welled. “I need to walk in my garden,” she said. “Need to see our house.”

  Our house. He swallowed hard.

  She extended a hand. “Come with me?”

  “Anywhere.” He clasped her fingers, and they began walking, her eyes busily drinking in the sights.

  Abruptly she stopped. “There’s just one thing missing.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “My ring.” She glanced at him with a flicker of nerves. “Do you still have it?”

  His heart leaped. “Absolutely.” He didn’t waste a second retrieving it from a chain around his neck. Slipping it on her finger.

  For a long moment, she studied the circle of diamonds. Her gaze rose to his, bright with the love he’d feared never to see again. “Thank you, James.”

  “Thank you?” He goggled.
/>   “No matter what happened before, it was you who helped me find the way home.”

  “Oh, love…” Throat thick, he drew her close. Kissed her with everything in him.

  Then he swept her into his arms like a new bride and opened the door to their house.

  To their new life.

  He stepped over the threshold.

  “Welcome home, butterfly.”

  Bella smiled, her heart wide open this time—

  And the sun rose in James Parker’s sky.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-1964-3

  THE WAY HOME

  Copyright © 2008 by Jean Brashear.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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