Without a Past

by Debra Salonen

  Andi felt like a heel. She was the one who’d said they should keep the past in the past, and here she was jumping all over her sister like some kind of possessive beast. “I’m sorry, Kris. That was mean. I’m an idiot.”

  Jonathan knocked again.

  Kristin smiled and lightly touched Andi’s arm with cool, slightly sticky fingers. “No, you’re in love. I understand. Really, I do. It’s been a long, long time, but I do remember the feeling.”

  With that, she headed back to the party. Andi opened the door. “Hi. Are you lost? The men’s party is down the road a few blocks.”

  He looked heartbreakingly handsome—new denim jeans, snakeskin boots and a long-sleeve white shirt. The evening had turned chilly. A perfect excuse to drag him upstairs to her down-filled featherbed where she could ravish him to her heart’s content.

  “I’m on my way there now. Dad’s waiting in the car. Sam told me to bring him along. We just stopped to drop off a gift for Jenny.”

  Andi couldn’t stifle her surprise. “You have a shower present for Jenny?” Silky peignoirs and kitchen gadgets—typical shower gifts—sprang to mind.

  He nodded. “Dad and I went to Yosemite today and we took the long way back through Oakhurst. I asked for his advice and this is what he suggested.” He reached into the dim recess beside the door and brought out a set of golf clubs. “I have another set in the trunk for Sam,” he said proudly.

  Andi burst out laughing, but quickly swallowed her giggles when she saw the frown on his face. “Sorry. It’s a lovely gift. They look very expensive, but…Jenny doesn’t golf.”

  He looked sheepish. “My father said a couple needs a hobby they can enjoy together. When the twins are older, they might take up golf. In the meantime, I bought a catch net they can set up in the backyard to practice.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Wow,” she exclaimed. “That’s the most original shower gift I’ve ever heard of.”

  He pointed to the rental car sitting in the parking lot. “It was Dad’s idea. He and his wife play together daily. He says it keeps him young.” He leaned closer and added in a soft voice. “At least, he implied they were golfing.”

  The innuendo was clear. Maybe it was time for Andi to take up golf. “So, what are you doing later?” she asked.

  He moved the clubs just inside the door then pulled Andi into the shadows provided by the bay window. “After the bachelor party?” he asked, his lips finding hers.

  He tasted of coffee and possibly some kind of liquor—sweet and smoky. “Uh-huh,” she mumbled, wanting more.

  The kiss vaporized the misgivings that had been collecting in her head all day. She’d sleepwalked through the rehearsal, rehashing in her mind the reasons why she shouldn’t get involved with him. Only Kristin’s presence and her new nephew’s moody glumness—plus, the thought of the shower—had kept her from stewing all afternoon.

  She wanted him. That hadn’t changed after seven hours of being apart.

  “Well,” he said, trailing kisses across the bridge of her nose, then dotting each eye, “I’m going back to the motel. To the honeymoon suite,” he added with a chuckle. “Because tomorrow morning, I’m meeting with a local Realtor to look at some property that I just found out is for sale.”

  It took a minute to understand what he was saying. “What? Where? Here in Gold Creek?”

  He nodded—a rather smug grin on his lips.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. It sounds like a good deal. It will be even better if we can talk the owner down a few thousand, but I plan to take it no matter what.”

  A million questions raced through her head. “Where is this property?”

  “Just down the block. On the corner of Third and Fremont.”

  The map of Gold Creek hadn’t changed very much since Andi was a child. She drew the image to mind. The only parcel of land he could possibly mean was—

  “The Ledger?” she cried. “Oh my God, you’re buying the Ledger?”

  He crossed his arms in a satisfied manner. “I’m going to look it over in the morning. Hopefully the owner will accept my offer.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Dad pointed out that I jumped on my motorcycle and ran away from home because I was upset with him for selling our family’s newspaper business. He said this was my chance to put up or shut up—so to speak.

  “If I really have my heart set on being a publisher, I can use the money from the sale of the business to buy the Gold Creek Ledger.”

  Andi was speechless. Noise from the party—peals of laughter from whatever silly game they were playing—blended with traffic sounds and the croaking of frogs in Gold Creek. But louder than all that was the voice in her head repeating: “He’s staying. He’s staying.”

  But for how long? And was he buying the paper to prove his father wrong or because he wanted to settle down and make a life for himself? With her? She didn’t dare ask.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

  His right shoulder lifted and fell. “Wish me luck. There’s no guarantee the man will sell it to me. And there’s always an outside chance I’ll be running it from jail.” She saw a twinkle in his eye.

  He dropped one more light but sweet kiss on her lips then turned and ran down the steps. “Can’t miss out on free beer and pizza,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  JONATHAN COULDN’T REMEMBER the last bachelor party he’d attended. But he had a pretty good idea about what the celebration was usually like. The image in his head didn’t resemble this low-key, good-natured gathering in the least, he decided, looking around the private party room of the Golden Corral restaurant.

  Jonathan’s father seemed completely at ease whether he was talking with cowboys—like Hank and Petey—or people like the veterinarian, Rich Rumbolt and Jim Rohr, Jonathan’s attorney. He’d also spent a lot of time with Sam’s stepfather, who was an avid golfer.

  As he nursed his beer, Jonathan pictured the look on Andi’s face when he’d told her about the newspaper. He might be rushing things—businesswise and relationship-wise—but Andrew and JJ Newhall were men of action. Both believed in jumping on an opportunity when it presented itself. The question remained, was the new Jonathan up to the challenge?

  “This deal has serendipity written all over it,” Andrew had told Jonathan when they sat down face-to-face over lunch. “And I wouldn’t have even heard about it if my friend from Sacramento hadn’t reported the rumor.”

  Jonathan had made a few calculations. “What about the price? Too high, don’t you think?”

  “Hell, yes. The guy’s asking way too much for his blue sky,” Andrew had said of the owner’s asking price. Blue sky was the term for patron goodwill and loyal customer base. “True, he’s got a monopoly in this town, but if he doesn’t treat us fairly, we’ll threaten to start a new paper. Give him a little competition. And believe me, when the good folks of Gold Creek see how a paper should be run, they’ll drop their Ledger subscriptions and come over to us.”

  They’d crunched numbers on a place mat during lunch. Too excited about the business possibilities to do justice to their tour of Yosemite, they’d cut the trip short and returned to Gold Creek through Wawona, using the park’s southern exit. They’d stopped in Oakhurst, where Jonathan had bought the golf clubs.

  Sam and his friends had cheered with high-fives all around the table when Jonathan presented him with the gift. Sam had seemed truly touched when Jon repeated the explanation. And Andrew had added his personal testimonial, which got everyone—even Hank—bragging about top golf scores.

  “So are you and Andi friends?” Sam asked, joining Jonathan. Hank and the ranch hands were at the bar, getting refills. Several other guests had moved to the pool tables. Andrew and Jim Rohr were deep in conversation at the far end of the table.

  “Yes,” Jonathan answered. “It’s a good idea, don’t you think? To be friends with the woman you love.”

  Sam didn’t even b
link at the announcement. “It’s the only way,” he said with conviction. “Especially if you plan to marry her.”

  Jonathan approved of Sam’s protective nature. He thought about Andi’s Daddy List. Sam surely would have made the cut, but would he? The old Jonathan wouldn’t have stood a chance. Self-absorbed, egotistical, driven.

  Thank God I didn’t meet her before my accident.

  Sam looked at Jonathan over his glass of beer and asked, “How’s Andi taking it now that you’re Jonathan instead of Harley?”

  Jonathan pictured their morning and night in each other’s arms. “She’s adjusting. It might take awhile to convince her I’m going to stick around. But, hopefully, if things go well in the morning…”

  At Sam’s questioning look, Jonathan explained about the Ledger.

  “Well, good for you,” Sam said, clapping a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “What time is your meeting? You’re not going to be late for the wedding, are you?”

  Jonathan drew a blank. “You mean the reception? Dad and I thought we’d drop in later.”

  Sam shook his head. “I guess Andrew didn’t tell you. I want you both to join us at eleven. For the ceremony. In fact, you’re delivering my ring.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He held up his left hand. “I slammed my hand in a gate yesterday. The fingers are still swollen. I’ll be damned if I’m going through all this folderol without a ring to show for it. The local jeweler is resizing it for me.

  “Things are going to be pretty hectic in the morning, so I thought you might pick it up for me. And besides, I’d like my future brother-in-law at my wedding.”

  The words gave Jonathan a small thrill. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  Sam chuckled. “I know she loves you.”

  Really? Before he could ask for proof to back up that assertion, Donnie Grimaldo joined them.

  Sam slapped him on the back. “’Bout time you got here.”

  “I’ve been busy. Following up on a lead on the Gunderson case.” Donnie set his cup of coffee on the table before him.

  “Any luck?” Jonathan asked.

  Donnie made a so-so motion.

  Sam and Jonathan exchanged a look. Sam’s smile was almost smug. “I told you Donnie wouldn’t take the easy way out.”

  “Talking about not taking the easy way, a little bird told me that you’re courting Andi Sullivan.” Donnie gave the old-fashioned word an appropriately derisive inflection. “Is it true?”

  Jonathan looked across the table. Sam already knew the truth. If Andi was right about the speed of gossip, maybe everyone knew how he felt about her. “Yes,” he said. “Is there a problem with that?”

  The officer’s right cheek quivered. “Not as far as I’m concerned, but she is a friend. I wouldn’t want to see her get hurt.”

  Jonathan reacted defensively. “Even you don’t believe I killed Lars, I’d never hurt—”

  Donnie cut him off. “There are all kinds of hurt. And Andi is fragile. Everybody thinks Kristin is the delicate one. She looks it, but she’s got a will of iron. Believe me,” he added on a harsh note.

  “Andi, on the other hand, is like a caterpillar. Soft and easily squished. And if you squish a caterpillar, you miss out on the beauty of the butterfly it was meant to be.”

  Jonathan never would have guessed that a poet resided beneath the gruff exterior of this member of law enforcement.

  Sam nodded. “I didn’t meet the triplets until they were in high school, but I remember hearing about Andi’s Daddy List. It touched my heart. What a neat little kid she must have been—bound and determined to find a father for her family. I hope Lara has inherited some of her aunt’s spunk.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t set her sights on you,” Jonathan said.

  Sam smiled sagely. “I was a source of frustration for her. She liked me, and I think she really wanted me in the family, but she couldn’t figure out how to make that happen. I was too young for Ida and too old for her or her sisters. At the time,” he quickly added.

  Donnie slugged his shoulder the way good friends can. “You’re still too old for Jenny. Once you kick the bucket, I’m going to marry her and inherit your vast wealth.”

  Sam guffawed. “And our ten children.”

  Jonathan laughed, too. He knew instinctively he’d never shared this kind of camaraderie. Even the few friendships he could remember were superficial compared to this brotherly affection.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father stand. “I guess we’re leaving. Sam, I’d be honored to deliver your ring in the morning.”

  Donnie suddenly lifted his hand. A key dangled from his index finger. “I thought you might want to get your bike out of impound in the morning. We ran it for clues. Nothing.”

  “Really? You’re letting me pick it up?”

  “It’s costing you eleven dollars a day storage fees. Might as well haul it to a garage so someone can fix it. It’s gonna need a little work.”

  Jonathan accepted the key after a slight hesitation.

  He noticed the two men’s look of curiosity. “Andi believes I’m some kind of footloose nomad.”

  Donnie shrugged. “You don’t need a bike to leave. Just the will.”

  Again, Jonathan was struck by Donnie’s complexity. There was more to the man’s story, but Jonathan didn’t have time to explore it. He rose and was about to step away, when he felt something change in the atmosphere. Voices dropped. The whole bar seemed to tense.

  “Well, look who’s back in town,” Donnie said, his gaze never leaving the newcomer standing at the end of the bar.

  Even Sam looked perturbed. “Jenny isn’t going to be happy.”

  “What?” Jonathan asked. “I mean, who?”

  Sam took a healthy swig of beer then plopped his glass down soundly. “That, my friend, is Tyler Harrison. The man who broke up the Sullivan triplets.”

  JONATHAN WANTED to hear about the role this man had played in Andi’s life, so he joined Donnie and Sam when they approached the dark-haired slender man.

  Harrison watched them approach with narrowed eyes—the same shape and color as Kristin’s son’s. Now Jonathan understood what Andi had meant when she’d said things were going to get messy.

  “Tyler,” Donnie said. “Long time, no see. What brings you back to Gold Creek?” Donnie set his cup down on the bar and leaned on one elbow. The casual pose belied the tension Jonathan sensed.

  “Just a quick visit,” the man replied. “My mother requested it.”

  Sam put out his hand. “Sam O’Neal. We never really met. I own—”

  “I know who you are,” Harrison said. One corner of his mouth curled slightly. “Mother sends me a subscription to the Ledger every Christmas.”

  The chill in his voice was almost enough to make Jonathan shiver. Before he could add any sort of greeting, the bartender handed Sam a portable phone. “It’s your bride-to-be.”

  Harrison finished the last of his beer and set the mug down with a solid thunk. His dark eyes glittered. “Ah, yes. Jenny Perfect is getting married.” He looked at Donnie, then Jonathan. “The Sullivan sisters strike again.”

  Donnie’s arm came up, hand curled into a fist, but before he could move forward, Sam stepped in front of him. He handed the phone to the bartender. He gave Tyler Harrison a brief glance, then ushered Donnie and Jonathan toward their table.

  “Now’s not the time. Lara’s running a fever. Probably just teething, but Jenny wants to go home.”

  At Sam’s signal, his friends gathered around the table. He explained that he was needed back at the ranch. He thanked them all for coming and mentioned a limitless tab at the bar, but Jonathan sensed the party was pretty much over.

  Donnie disappeared before Jonathan could pry any details about Harrison out of him. Andrew, who seemed anxious to leave, appeared with their coats. “Are you ready, son? I’m bushed.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  As they reached the door, a hand settled on his
shoulder. Jonathan turned. “I meant to tell you,” Rich Rumbolt, the veterinarian, said. “Your dog is doing great. He could go home tomorrow, but with all the excitement—the wedding and Kristin’s son and all—maybe you’d prefer to leave him at the clinic.” Obviously the news about Zach had spread. “All kids love dogs, but Sarge needs to rest.”

  An image of a young boy tossing a ball for a small brown and white dog with floppy ears and a toothy grin entered Jonathan’s mind, and just as suddenly a pressure built behind his eyes. He put his hand to his head and groaned. “Damn.”

  His father thanked the man. “Jon will call your office in the morning. He’s had a long day. I think the elevation has given him a headache.”

  It took both men to help Jonathan to the car. His father drove. “Maybe we should stop at the hospital…”

  “No. Pills in pocket.” He found his pills and swallowed two without water.

  A few minutes later, Andrew helped Jonathan into their suite. The pullout bed had been made and Jonathan fell onto it gratefully.

  “Son, are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

  “No,” Jonathan said. The pulsing beat was lessening. “Weird. My usual kind of headache, but I wasn’t thinking about the past. Not my past, anyway. Andi’s. And then the dog.”

  Andrew made a short, gasping sound. Jonathan partially opened one eye. “What?”

  “The dog. Andi. The wreck. Your mind has probably gotten them all mixed up.”

  Jonathan would have shaken his head but he didn’t want to risk it. “What are you talking about?”

  His father clicked on the bedside lamp then turned off the overhead light. He brought Jonathan a glass of water and sat in the chair across from him.

  “Do you remember Snoop?”

  “Who?” The pain intensified like a wave crashing in his head.

  “Your dog, Snoop. He was a beagle puppy. Your mother bought him for your tenth birthday.”

  An image came into his mind. The same one he’d seen earlier. “Mom said it would be plagiarism to copy Charles Schultz, so we dropped the Y when we named him. She and I went to the kennel to pick him out right after he was born. And she took me there after school to visit every day until he was old enough to come home with us.”