Strictly Lonergan's Business

by Maureen Child

  Time ticked past though as it took him more than twice as long to walk the distance as it should have. Every step felt as though he were dragging his feet free of mud. His brain knew he had to go back to the lake—face what had happened so long ago.

  But his heart ached at the thought of it.

  Fifteen years had passed, but the land hadn’t changed much. He slowly climbed the ridge in the pale wash of moonlight and in the distance, heard the high-pitched howl of a coyote serenade. A soft, cool wind with the taste of the ocean on it, swept across the open fields and tugged at Cooper’s hair. He turned his face into it and paused long enough to settle the frantic race of his heartbeat.

  He’d never intended to come back here. To this place. Never thought he’d be able to.

  And as he made it to the top of the ridge and looked out over the dark water, dappled in moonlight, he felt the years pass away. Once again, he was sixteen, standing with his cousins at the top of the world.

  He felt the sun, hot on his bare shoulders. Heard Jake cussing a blue streak because Mac had outjumped him. Listened to Sam chuckle as he carefully studied the stopwatch, timing Mac’s underwater stretch. And heard himself saying Give him another few seconds, Sam. He really wants to beat Jake. And I want him to. Mac’s okay. Stop being an old woman.

  Wincing now, Cooper stared out at the spot where Mac had landed that last time. And he kept staring, as if he could see through the water to where they’d eventually found Mac, stretched out on the bottom of the lake—already dead.

  They’d tried CPR. They’d tried pushing the water from Mac’s lungs.

  But they were too late.

  And they’d lost not only Mac that afternoon, but their own innocence and sense of invincibility.

  “Mac?” Cooper’s whisper came low and strained, as if that single word had been squeezed out of his throat grudgingly. “You still here?”

  The wind pushed at him playfully and in his mind, he heard laughter. Mac’s laughter. Cooper spun around, half expecting to see the tall, lanky kid striding up the ridge to join him.

  And the disappointment at finding himself all alone was staggering.

  Still, remembering the furious temper of the ghost he’d left behind at the Victorian, Cooper wondered if Mac’s spirit was trapped at the lake. Was he here, even now, waiting for his cousins to come back and—what?

  “What could you be waiting for? To hear us say we’re sorry?” he asked the wind. “What good would that do?”

  Toward the east, the sky was beginning to lighten into a soft violet, heralding the coming dawn. Hours must have passed since he’d left the ranch house. Amazing that he’d been walking for so long.

  He lifted his gaze from the rippled surface of the lake to the star-studded sky overhead. “We are sorry, you know. For all the good it does. You died too young, Mac. And we miss you. All of us do.”

  Shaking his head, he admitted, “God, I’ve relived that day a thousand times. Over and over again in my mind, I’ve replayed what happened. And every time, I save you.” His voice broke and his gaze dropped, back to the lake, where his young life had shattered so completely.

  “I want you to know that, Mac. Every time I remember that day, we save you.” He choked out a laugh and rubbed his hand across his face. “Of course, we didn’t when it really counted…God, I wish I could change it. Wish I could bring you back. Or hell, even talk to you. I’ve missed you so damn much.”

  A freshening wind slapped at him again, throwing his hair across his eyes and he found himself smiling in spite of the knife-like pain twisting inside him. Was the wind Mac’s way of telling him to stop beating himself up over the past?

  Or was that just wishful thinking?

  Hell, up to a few weeks ago, Cooper had never really believed in ghosts. Now, he was convinced that something of who you were survived death. It wasn’t a complete end. Maybe death really was just a bend in the road, beyond which we can’t see. Maybe there’s more out there than any of us have ever imagined.

  God, he hoped so.

  Hoped Mac was having a great time wherever he was. But could he move on, knowing that those he’d left behind were all still trapped in reruns of that summer day?

  Cooper had never known pain like he’d experienced that day fifteen years before. Because he’d deliberately avoided it. By never allowing himself to love that freely, deeply, he’d kept himself free from pain—but he’d also hidden away from real joy. He’d lived a half life—safe but alone. Hell, Mac had lived more in sixteen years than Cooper had in thirty-one.

  He’d locked himself away from life in some self-appointed penance for something he couldn’t have changed. He’d felt guilty being alive when Mac was dead. And maybe, he thought, if something of Mac lingered in this place, maybe it was because none of his cousins had been able to let him go.

  He’d hate to think that.

  The three of them—Cooper, Sam and Jake—had all grieved in their own way, but they’d all shared at least one trait. They’d stayed away. From here.

  From memories of Mac.

  Yet, there’d been so much more to Mac than that one last day. And instead of focusing on those memories, they’d all chosen to relive the tragedy over and over again.

  What a waste.

  What a pitiful way to remember a boy they’d all loved.

  Suddenly exhausted as emotions churned inside, Cooper dropped onto the grassy ground, drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. In the moonlight and the still chill of the night, Cooper felt the ice around his heart shatter and fall away. The cold he’d lived with for so long began to melt and he drew his first easy breath in fifteen long years.

  Stretching out on the dewy grass, Cooper closed his eyes and felt the exhaustion of the complete release of tension seep through him like a rising tide. The aches and misery of years washed away, leaving him with only the memories of the good times they’d all had.

  Of the summers that would live forever.

  Of the boy who’d died too young, but had lived a lifetime in sixteen short years.

  And in his mind, he saw Mac again. Young and laughing. Running up the ridge and leaping out into the lake—fearless, joyful.

  Cooper smiled and whispered, “Thanks, Mac.”

  Twelve

  Cooper woke with a jolt.

  Sunlight streamed into his eyes and he squinted instantly in self-defense. A moment or two of complete confusion rattled through him. Where the hell was he and how did he—

  The lake. He sat straight up and stared down from the ridge at the dark blue water below. Sunlight skittered off the surface, twinkling like downed stars.

  He rubbed his eyes and stood up, stretching aching muscles. Not the most comfortable place to spend the night, he thought, but at the same time, it had been the best sleep he’d had in fifteen years. He’d finally come to terms with Mac.

  Sorrow balled in the pit of his stomach, but this was a sweet sadness for something long missed. Not the lurch of guilt and pain that had so long been a part of his life.

  “Kara was right,” he said aloud, then shot a quick look at his watch. Kara.

  She was leaving and he had to stop her. Had to try to make her see that he wasn’t a complete loss. That he’d finally found a way to look ahead. To look into his own future and when he did, all he saw was her.

  Then, as if Mac were standing right there beside him, he heard his cousin’s voice say, What’re you waiting for? Go get her.

  Grinning, Cooper turned around and started running toward the ranch—toward Kara.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Kara said, reaching into the backseat to pull out her suitcase.

  “Not a problem,” Maggie told her and closed the door for her. “But are you sure about this? You’ve got a long day of just sitting at the airport waiting for your plane.”

  Kara inhaled sharply, deeply and glanced around at the people jostling for space at curb side check-in. Then she shifted her gaze back to Maggie. The woman stared at her wi
th sympathy in her eyes, and though Kara appreciated the thought, she really didn’t want to acknowledge it. And, if she’d spent the day at the ranch, she’d have been faced with that sympathy all day. Not only from Maggie, but from Sam and Jeremiah and even Jake.

  And, there was always the chance that Cooper might drop by the ranch house. No. It was better this way. She’d rather spend the day at the airport than risk running into Cooper one more time.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she chirped, putting a little too much cheer into her voice, “I’ve got a good book and a pile of magazines to read.”

  Maggie nodded as if she understood every thought that was racing through Kara’s mind. “Okay. But if it’s okay with you, when I get back to the ranch, I think I’ll give Cooper a good hard kick.”

  Unexpectedly, a sheen of tears bristled at the backs of her eyes and Kara smiled tightly. “Thanks,” she said and instinctively leaned in for a hug. Then before she could change her mind, she grabbed hold of the suitcase handle and headed for the terminal.

  “Kara!” Cooper pounded on the door of the guesthouse, then moved to the front window. Stepping through the jungle of geraniums planted before it, he cupped his hands on the window glass and peered into the dark house. “Kara, damn it, open the door! I need to talk to you!”

  Nothing.

  “What the hell are you up to?” Sam called out from across the yard.

  Cooper spun around. “I’m looking for Kara. Where is she?”

  Sam leaned one shoulder against a porch post and lifted a cup of coffee for a sip. “She came here to get away from you, Cooper.”

  Pushing through the geraniums that fought him every inch of the way, Cooper stomped across the grassy dirt and stood at the bottom of the steps, glaring at his cousin. “Don’t get in the middle of this, Sam.”

  “Get in?” Sam countered with a sneer, “You’re the one who dragged me in, remember? Weren’t you just here last night complaining to me?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “I was.” Scraping one hand along the side of his head, he pushed his hair back then let his hand drop in disgust. “But things’re different now. I—” He shut up suddenly and demanded, “Where is she?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Panic bubbled up in his throat but Cooper swallowed it. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “What’s all the shouting about?” Jeremiah demanded, stepping out onto the porch beside Sam. “Oh, Cooper. It’s you.”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  Sheba hurtled out the back door, squeezing through the legs of the two men to throw herself joyfully at Cooper. Bounding at his legs, she yapped and barked and ran in dizzying circles around him in a bid for attention. Cooper was too focused to notice.

  “Man, can’t a guy even get any sleep in the country?” Jake’s grumble rolled over the puppy’s gleeful barking in a growl of complaint. “I’ve slept in train stations quieter than this place.”

  “Great.” Cooper threw his hands high, then let them fall again. “Everybody here now?” Narrowing a look at Sam, he demanded, “Where’s Kara?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  Jake grabbed Sam’s coffee and took a long gulp.

  “Hey, get your own.”

  Jake ignored him, only mumbling, “Tell him where she is, already, huh? And somebody shut that dog up.”

  “Still a prizewinner in the morning, aren’t you?” Jeremiah snapped, then said, “Sheba! Cut it out.”

  The puppy immediately quieted and plopped her butt onto the ground beside Cooper, all the while managing to still wag her tail and squirm in place.

  “Damn it Sam, tell me,” Cooper said, ignoring the others. “Please.”

  Sam studied him for a long minute before making up his mind. Finally though, he nodded, took his cup back from Jake and looked at Cooper. “Maggie took her to the airport. She went early I think, to avoid seeing you again.”

  Cooper winced as the truth of that statement hit him like a slap. God, he’d been an idiot. The question was, was it too late to make up for it?

  “Thanks,” he said and headed for Jeremiah’s beat-up ranch truck. “I’ll bring the truck back later.”

  “Boy,” Jeremiah shouted, taking the first couple of steps. “Wait up a minute there. I’ve got something I’ve got to say to the three of you and—”

  Cooper never even looked back. “It’ll have to wait, Jeremiah.” He opened the truck door, climbed inside and fired up the engine. Slamming the door shut again, he threw the car into Drive, punched the gas pedal and muttered, “I’ve got something way more important to say. I only hope she’ll listen.”

  “Hey!” A security guard shouted as Cooper parked the truck in front of the terminal and bailed out. “You can’t leave that thing there!”

  He didn’t have time to move it. Didn’t care enough to worry about it. His brain was focused on one thing. Kara. She was all that mattered now.

  She was all.

  “Have it towed,” he shouted back and hit the automatic double doors in such a hurry they didn’t have time to swing open for him. He’d worry about the truck later. Pay the fines, whatever.

  Right now, he had to find her.

  His gaze swept the crowd. People. Too many people. The noise level was immense. Kids cried, parents soothed, teenagers up against a wall, kissing goodbye as if facing Armageddon. Huge suitcases rolled across the gleaming linoleum, their steel wheels growling a warning at anyone in their way. A disembodied voice shimmied through the speaker system, but the words were garbled, as if the speaker was talking around a mouthful of marbles.

  Cooper’s gaze swung back and forth, searching every face. Stalking through the crowd, pushing through the congested terminal, he checked the television screens for arrival and departure times and located the gate that Kara’s plane would be using.

  He sprinted down the long, narrow passage, slipping in and out of the crowd, mumbling apologies, but never stopping. Never slowing. His heart raced and his brain moved even faster. One speech after another rose up in his mind, was considered, then rejected. He had to make her see. Understand.

  Had to make her believe.

  But how?

  Just outside security, his gaze shifted quickly over the people standing in line until he found the one face he’d been searching for. Kara. She stood alone, staring into space.

  His heart twisted in his chest and he swallowed hard. This was it. And if he blew it, he’d never forgive himself.

  Hurrying to her, he stopped right in front of her and waited as she slowly lifted her gaze to his. He saw surprise and pleasure light up her eyes before those emotions were extinguished and buried under a sheen of regret.

  He felt the solid punch of her pain as if it were a blow to his midsection, but he couldn’t let it stop him. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said inanely.

  “I left the ranch early so I wouldn’t have to see you again,” she admitted.

  “Yeah, I figured that out. And I don’t blame you,” he said. Reaching for her hands, he held them in both of his and tightened his grip when she would have pulled free. “Don’t. Kara, please. You’ve gotta listen to me.”

  Hope lit up her eyes briefly, then was gone again in a wink. But the fact that it had been there at all, gave Cooper reason for a little hope himself.

  “I really think we’ve said everything, Cooper.”

  “Not by a long shot,” he argued, then fixed a steely stare on a businessman type who wandered up to take his place in line behind her. The man got the message and scuttled off quickly.

  “Fine,” she said. “Say what you came to say and then go, okay?”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  Both of her eyebrows lifted. “Interesting start.”

  He gave her a half smile and squeezed her hands briefly. “There’s more.”

  “I’m listening,” she said and he could see her take a deep breath and hold it.

  Shaking his head, Cooper searched for the right words but could
n’t find them. “Damn it, I’m a writer. I should be good at this. But now, when I need them the most, the words aren’t there.”

  Hope was back in her eyes and just a hint of a smile was on her mouth. “Give it your best shot.”

  “Okay.” Nodding, he said, “I’ll say the most important part first and work back around to it again later.”

  She nodded, waiting.

  “I love you.”

  She sucked in a gulp of air and tears began to glitter in her eyes. Panic jolted inside him.

  “I don’t want you to cry,” he said desperately. “I wanted to make you happy. Make us happy.”

  “Then keep talking,” she urged.

  “You were right,” he said, figuring every woman loved to hear that—especially when it was true. “I should have told you about Mac. Hell, I should have found a way to deal with that pain a long time ago. But I didn’t. Because it was easier to hide from it. To hide from everything. Everyone.”

  She squeezed his hands. In support? Sympathy? He didn’t know, so he kept talking.

  “I hid from life for so long, Kara,” he said, “I’d forgotten what real joy was. What life could be like. But the last week or so with you reminded me. I know we’ve been together for a long time, but here, it was different. In Coleville, we were really together, together. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “Good. Good.” He nodded and fought for breath.

  That voice over the loudspeaker came again and all over the airport, heads cocked to listen, to try to understand the garbled words. The security line moved forward.

  Cooper and Kara ignored it.

  “I went to the lake last night.”

  “You did?” Understanding lit up her eyes and highlighted the banked tears about to fall.

  Cooper talked faster, hoping to forestall them.

  “I did. I talked to Mac. Discovered something else you were right about. It wasn’t our fault. And Mac doesn’t blame us.”

  “Oh, Cooper…”

  “I think he wants us to be happy,” he was saying, feeling the truth of his words as they poured from him in a rush. “I think he expects us to live the kind of life he would have if he’d been given the chance. And Kara, I want that, too.”