by Cora Seton
“What is wrong with those people?” she demanded as she strode toward the truck, skirts swirling around her ankles.
“I wish to God I knew.” He followed quickly after her. He had plenty more he wanted to say to his family, but maybe this way was best.
She kept quiet until they reached the truck, but when they were both buckled in and Jericho had pulled out of his parents’ driveway, she said, “You need to tell me what that was all about.”
Jericho supposed he did. After all, he wanted Savannah to be his wife. But he’d have done anything to keep the whole thing in the past.
“The accident happened years ago.” No, better to start at the beginning. “My dad has a twin brother, Christopher. Uncle Chris and my dad were like two peas in a pod. They were inseparable. And they married two women who were best friends. They bought houses right next to each other. It’s like some sappy fifties television show—except it was real.”
Savannah nodded. “Sounds great.”
“It was, at first. My parents had me and my sister. It took Uncle Chris and Aunt Patty a few more years to have Donovan. I was seven and Kara four when he was born. I remember the day Aunt Patty brought him home from the hospital and let me hold him for the first time. It was—amazing. This new tiny life.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Savannah nod. “So what happened?”
“My aunt and uncle came over most nights and brought Donovan with them. When he was a baby they kept his bassinet right in the dining room, where they played cards. He graduated to a portable crib when he got bigger. But even before he could walk, it became my job to watch him and Kara. Kara…well, she didn’t like that. The more time Donovan spent with us, the more she resented him.”
“Is that why she pushed you when you were in the treehouse?”
“She was pissed,” Jericho agreed. “It was Donovan’s turn to be the pirate captain.”
“How old were you?”
Jericho kept his eyes on the road. “I was eleven. Kara was seven. Donovan was four.”
“A four-year-old up in a tree house? Without his parents around?”
Jericho shrugged. “No one thought anything of it. This is the country we’re talking about.”
“Still.” Savannah looked away. “It’s a risk I wouldn’t be comfortable taking with my child, I don’t think.”
“There was a railing. It gave way.” Jericho shrugged again, but the words he’d just said bugged him. Why had that railing given away? If he was going to build a tree house, he’d make sure it was solid.
He tried to remember if his father or uncle had ever climbed up to test it once it was built. The tree house wasn’t that old at the time. It must not have been anchored right.
“I don’t want to be a helicopter mom, but I think I’d check the railing on a tree house now and then.”
Jericho glanced her way. “Maybe I’m just making excuses. I was the oldest. I was in charge—I should have made Kara climb down if she was going to act like that.”
“But she’s the one who pushed you?” Savannah asked.
He nodded.
“Then, Jericho—none of this is your fault. She got angry, she didn’t think and she pushed you. You fell into your cousin and the railing that should have kept you all safe, didn’t. Why are you taking the blame for this?”
“Donovan’s fall is only the half of it,” Jericho said, turning onto the highway that would bring them back to Westfield. “My aunt and uncle were furious about what happened—that I let it happen. They fought with my parents. They moved away to North Dakota. Sold the house, just like that. Never came back again.”
“Jericho—”
“Can you imagine what it was like at our house after that? My father lost his twin. My mother lost her best friend.”
“That’s terrible. And wrong. I’m sorry, but I think your parents and your aunt and uncle all behaved badly. Even if an eleven-year-old could keep two other children perfectly safe all the time—which I don’t think is possible—it’s clear the real problem was shoddy construction and your sister’s temper. And two sets of parents who couldn’t be bothered to watch their kids.”
“That’s not how they saw it.”
Neither said anything for a time as they each watched the scenery pass. “You know what? I think they felt guilty. I think they still do. They know they’re the ones to blame as much as you. More so,” Savannah said.
Jericho pulled into the driveway that led to the manor. When he pulled up in front of the tall stone building, he parked the truck.
“I still feel responsible,” he said quietly. “I always have. At the end of the day, if I hadn’t knocked into Donovan, he wouldn’t have fallen. The sound he made when he hit the ground—I’ll never forget it. I climbed down as fast as I could to help, but he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed.”
“I’m so sorry.” Savannah took his hand. Jericho held her small fingers in his, glad for the link to another human being—to her. His friends knew the bare bones of this story, but not all of it.
“I need to get back to work—paying work,” he told her in a rush, confessing a part of the story he’d never shared with anyone else. “Ever since I was twenty-five, I’ve been sending Donovan money—as much of my paycheck I can spare. I paralyzed him—”
“The accident paralyzed him,” Savannah corrected him. “And it really sounds like it was an accident, Jericho.”
“Anyway, I’ve been sending him money. It kills me I waited that long, but it wasn’t until then I really understood what I might have done to him. Being in the Navy—you see people get hurt. When someone you know—someone you’ve worked with—gets laid up for life… you understand mortality in a whole new way. It occurred to me that Donovan wasn’t going to get better. I had to do something. He cashes every check like clockwork. He must need it. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through life in a wheelchair—or not be able to work at all.”
“Wait—he must need it?” Savannnah tightened her grip on his hand. “You mean you don’t know for sure? When was the last time you talked to him?”
Jericho shook his head. “I’ve never talked to him. Not since the day he fell out of the treehouse.”
Savannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her family might be messed up, but nowhere near this bad. Her parents were self-absorbed, so was Charles, and her conversations with them frustrated her to no end, but at least they talked.
Jericho’s family was so dysfunctional, she didn’t know where to begin to sort out the tangle of it. How could his parents blame a little boy for something so obviously not his fault? And why would they still blame him for it so many years later?
If Mary and Dan missed Patty and Chris so much, why not call them? Apologize, make amends. Hold out an olive branch? Donovan was grown up now. He must have come to terms with his life, no matter how badly he’d been injured.
That is, unless he’d died.
The thought struck her cold until she remembered someone was cashing those checks and Jericho must have an address to send them to.
She shifted in her seat and undid the seat belt when it hindered her. “When was the last time you talked to your aunt and uncle?” she asked him.
“Never. Not since I was eleven.”
Savannah thought she was getting a glimpse of the SEAL in him. He still faced forward, his expression hard—impassive. As if he’d seen so much pain he couldn’t feel it anymore. But that wasn’t true, was it? He’d been in pain this whole time—holding himself responsible—letting that one incident hold him back from any kind of peace.
“But you have Donovan’s address. Did you find it online?”
“That’s right.”
“What else did you find out when you looked him up?”
“Nothing,” Jericho said vehemently, finally turning toward her. “I couldn’t… couldn’t stand knowing how badly I hurt him. In my mind he’s in a wheelchair and he’s mobile, at least. He’s holding down a job of some kind. Maybe he’s got a fa
mily—at least friends and hobbies. What if I look him up and that’s not true? What if he’s a quadriplegic? What if he’s hated me his whole life?”
“No wonder you can’t get rid of your ghosts,” Savannah said sadly. “You haven’t faced them, and your family won’t let you forget them.” She watched the sun fade to the west. “Neither of us have had the support we need.”
“I guess not.” He moved his hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “You’ve got my support, you know that, right?”
She nodded. At least in the case of her piano playing, he’d made that clear. Maybe this was the time to tell him about the baby.
No, she decided. Not now. Not when his family had dragged him through the muck of the memories they refused to let go. No wonder Jericho was afraid of children—he’d taken on the guilt his parents had yoked him with and wore his supposed carelessness like a crown of thorns.
“I’m going to say it again,” she told him. “You aren’t careless. You are a man to be trusted with children. You have my support all the way, too. I’m impressed with the work you’re doing at Base Camp, you know.”
“Thank you.” He leaned toward her across the center console, tipped her chin up and kissed her. Savannah sighed, and let herself enjoy it.
He pulled back. “Savannah, you know I want to—”
“Let’s go inside,” she blurted, needing to head him off. She couldn’t take a proposal. Not tonight. “I’ll make some tea. I could use a cup.”
“Savannah—”
She opened the door and got out of the truck before he could finish his sentence.
Chapter Six
‡
Savannah wasn’t ready to be proposed to yet, Jericho thought early the next morning. She’d made that entirely clear last night when she’d leapt from the truck as if her gown had been on fire, and made sure to keep moving as she prepared tea and directed him into the parlor to drink it, where the others were hanging out. When she was done, she pointedly went to the piano and began to run scales. Jericho had given up and gone back down to Base Camp. He could understand why a proposal wouldn’t be welcome after the disaster that had been dinner at his parents’ house.
He wondered if the incident had set him back with her even more, however. Who would want to marry someone from such a dysfunctional family? Not that hers was much better by her description. Maybe they should leave their relatives behind and start over again—with each other.
She and the other women hadn’t come down from the manor until late that evening, and it had taken him a long time to fall asleep, conscious that Savannah was lying in her own tent not that far away. He wasn’t sure what to make of her mixed messages. She’d taken his side against his family, but she’d pulled back hard when he’d tried to propose.
One step at a time, he told himself.
But time was passing, fast.
He thought Savannah might keep her distance from him that morning, after the awkwardness of the previous evening, but she surprised him by sitting with him at breakfast, and when she and the rest of the women headed back up to the manor to do their morning chores, she turned back to say, “I’ll see you in a little while.”
“What about practicing?” He couldn’t have been more surprised.
“Getting this place powered up is important, too,” she said.
Jericho watched her walk up the hill away from Base Camp, thoroughly confused.
Boone joined him. “You asked her to marry you yet?”
“Not yet,” Jericho said. “It’s only been three days.”
“That leaves thirty-seven. What’s the hold-up?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“Got a ring?”
“Nope.” Jericho shoved his hands in his pockets. The last twenty-four hours had knocked him off-balance. Making love to Savannah in the creek, the disastrous dinner with his folks, Savannah’s declaration that he was a responsible man, paired with the distance she insisted on keeping from him kept him too confused to figure anything out.
“Go get one. Now.”
“It’s pretty early, chief. I doubt Thayer’s will be open.”
Boone pulled out his phone, tapped it a few times and held it to his ear. “Rose? It’s Boone Rudman. You in the shop yet?” He waited a beat. “Terrific. Jericho will be in to see you soon. Set him up with a decent ring, won’t you?” He finished the conversation and pocketed his phone again. “She’ll be ready for you when you get there.”
“Why are you in such a hurry for me to buy a ring?” He couldn’t propose to Savannah until she was ready to say yes.
“Why do you think? Time’s a wasting. Get it done.”
Jericho headed into the bunkhouse to hand his dishes to Kai, but the kitchen was empty except for Avery and a member of the film crew. Avery jumped when she caught sight of him in the doorway. “Jericho! How long have you been there?”
“Just a moment.” They’d been filming, that was obvious. “Stealing a snack?” he asked her, unsure what to think of the situation. “You just had breakfast.”
“No.” Avery looked affronted. “Just…dropping off dishes, like you are. Come on, I need to get up to the manor,” she said to Byron, who was the youngest cameraman on the set. Byron followed Avery with alacrity, and Jericho wondered what Walker would think if he’d seen them. Walking up to the manor was hardly a scintillating activity to film—unless the kid wanted to get Avery alone.
Jericho filed the problem away for later. He’d mention it to Walker and leave it at that; it wasn’t his place to interfere. He dropped off his dishes, found a free truck and climbed in. But he didn’t immediately turn the engine on.
He’d never bought a ring before, and it occurred to him that he should have asked Boone to come along. His friend had managed it, and Riley seemed happy enough. He didn’t even know Savannah’s size. He’d figured he’d propose first and take her to buy the ring with him, but Boone wasn’t giving him much choice in the matter, and if he was truthful, he looked forward to leaving Base Camp for an hour, driving into town alone and clearing his head.
In fact… he was in luck; none of the camera crews had caught his conversation with Boone, which meant he was on his own for now. If he could get out of Base Camp without them seeing, he might actually be able to do this errand alone.
He had just turned the key in the ignition when Win rapped on his window. Jericho flinched before he collected himself and rolled it down. “I didn’t see you coming.”
“Sorry; didn’t mean to startle you. Are you going to town?” Win didn’t look as cheerful as she normally did.
“Need a ride? If you do, hop in quick, before anyone notices us.” He didn’t mind the interruption, as long as they could get out of there fast. Anything to stop overanalyzing what was happening with Savannah.
She nodded and rushed to get in on the passenger’s side. “Do you have a lot of errands?” she asked as he executed a quick U-turn and gunned the engine. Renata wouldn’t be happy, but he didn’t care.
“Just one. Buying a ring.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“For Savannah—I hope.”
“Lucky girl.” Win examined her hands.
“Where do you need to stop?”
“I can walk from Thayer’s. It won’t take long. Want to meet for coffee afterward?”
“I was kind of hoping you’d help me pick the ring out,” Jericho admitted.
“Oh. I can do that.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Something had her worried, Jericho realized. He wondered what her mystery errand entailed. “If you come to Thayer’s, I’ll go get us a booth at Linda’s Diner while you do what you need to do.”
“O… okay.” Win subsided into a silence that lasted until they reached town. When he talked to Walker about Avery, he’d better talk to Angus about Win, Jericho decided, but he let her alone during the rest of the drive. She obviously needed to think something over.
Once in town, Win shook off her though
ts and brightened up. “I’ve never been in Thayer’s,” she told him as they climbed out of the truck.
“Been a long time for me, too.” He didn’t think he’d been there since he was a child tagging along with his mother.
Even at this early hour, the door was unlocked. Inside, a petite young woman with dark hair stood behind the counter.
“Jericho!” She came around the counter to give him a hug. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you.”
Jericho remembered Rose as a girl with dark braids and big eyes. She was a number of years younger than him, but Chance Creek was a small town and as a kid he’d known most of the other children.
“I hear you’re a married woman now.”
“Married the local sheriff.”
“I bet you keep him in line.” She’d always been a scrappy little thing.
Rose blushed a little, and she craned her neck to catch sight of Win behind him. “And here’s your fiancée! You picked a pretty one, Jericho. Congratulations!” She rushed to take Win’s hand, pumped it once and then impulsively gave her a hug, too. “Jericho was always such a nice boy. I’m sure you two will be very happy.”
“Uh…” Damn. He should have anticipated this.
“I’m not his fiancée,” Win said with a sudden grin. “I’m his consultant. He didn’t trust himself to pick out the right ring.”
“Oh… oh, my God! You’d think that in this business I’d learn not to jump to conclusions.” Rose’s blush deepened and she clapped her hands to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Come on—come over here where I keep the engagement rings. Have a look around.” She hurried to the back of the store, and Jericho and Win followed her. Rose began to pull trays of engagement rings out of the glass case for them to look at.
“What do you think Savannah would like?” he asked Win.
“She’s pretty glamorous,” Win said. “She needs something feminine, but striking, don’t you think?”
“Striking?” That sounded expensive.
“Like this one.” Win pulled out a silver ring set with a large, oval, multifaceted diamond, surrounded by small blue stones Jericho couldn’t identify.