by Diane Moody
“But I should never have—”
“Tracey?”
“Yes?”
He rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to her ear. “You and I both know you didn’t wish the man dead,” he whispered. “So let that go, okay?”
She pressed her lips together, then finally nodded.
They stepped outside into the throng of folks still milling around in the early evening darkness, all waiting for news about Deacon. The quaint streetlights shone like spotlights on those gathered and others joining them from The Depot across the street. Noah wished he’d thought to exit through the back door to avoid seeing everyone. Right now, all he wanted was a chance to talk to Tracey. Alone.
Suddenly, Stump bear-hugged him. “Noah! When did you get back?”
Tracey stepped away, giving the guys plenty of room. At the moment, Noah’s friends seemed anxious to fill him in on all he’d missed, most of the animated conversation involving the council meeting. She noticed that he kept an eye on her, even as she joined her sister across the street in front of the pub. She watched him as well, thankful the Elders were making such a fuss over him.
“Well? What did he say?” Alex asked. “Where’s he been? Did he tell you?”
“No, we barely said a word before all this. We’ll have a chance to talk later.”
Just then, the doors of City Hall flew open again as the paramedics pushed Deacon’s gurney outside and into the waiting ambulance.
“I see the chairman survived after all,” Alex said sarcastically.
“Alex, stop that kind of talk.” Tracey noticed the oxygen mask over Deacon’s pale face. “I sure hope he makes it.”
Alex folded her arms across her chest. “Well, that makes one of us.”
Tracey pinned Alex with a glare. “Stop. Please.”
The ambulance pulled away, its flashing lights sending a bizarre light show bouncing against the buildings. As it turned the corner at the end of Main Street, the siren blared into the night.
People started chatting again, many making their way into the pub. Tracey looked for Noah again, finding him still across the street, but this time with her father. The two seemed locked in serious conversation. She envied her father, wishing for the same opportunity, but not about to interrupt them.
Everything had happened so fast with so much confusion. And then, in the midst of all the chaos, Noah had appeared out of nowhere. Where had he been? Why hadn’t he called? She couldn’t help the impatience gnawing at her nerves.
“Let them be, Trace,” Alex said, hooking her elbow. “Let’s go in and throw some darts or something. How about it?”
“I guess,” she answered, glad for something to bide the time. As they turned to go inside, Tracey stopped. “Go on in, Alex. I just want to get Noah’s attention and let him know we’ll be inside. Okay?”
“Fine. I’ll order us some wings.” Alex disappeared inside.
As Tracey turned around, a black sedan with darkened windows pulled up to the curb right in front of her, obstructing her view. Irritated, she moved so she could again see Noah.
“Tracey?”
She recognized the voice before turning her head at the sound of her name. Oh no.
The front passenger side window continued to lower. “I can’t believe I found you,” Morgan said, reaching for her hand.
She snatched her hand out of his reach. “What are you doing here?”
He pulled on a black Vanderbilt baseball cap and opened the door. Climbing out of the vehicle, he carefully kept his back to the others still standing around. “I need to talk to you. Come, take a ride with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going anywhere with you. I can’t believe you’re here.” She leaned to look inside the car where Morgan’s driver sat behind the wheel. “Scott. Nice to see you again.
“Hi, Tracey. Nice to see you too.”
She didn’t miss the awkward expression on his face. No doubt wishing he was anywhere but right here. “Scott, you need to take the Senator back to—”
“Tracey, we have to talk,” Morgan said, moving closer. That’s all I’m asking. A few minutes. I came this far—surely you’ll give me at least that much.”
Tracey shook her head, furious he had the nerve to show up like this.
“No? Would you rather we make a scene here in front of all these people?”
“Morgan, please. Just go home.”
“Five minutes. Give me five minutes then I’ll go. I promise.”
She blew out a huff then nodded toward the alley beside the pub. As soon as she stepped around the corner, Tracey turned to face him. “You have wasted your time coming here. I’m not coming back. There’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”
He smiled, digging his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, stepping closer. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” She started to leave, but he caught her arm. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She looked at his hand still on her arm. “Morgan, please.”
He removed his hand but remained close. “I came because I needed to see you. That’s it. Pure and simple. Since you left, I can’t think of anything but—”
“Stop it! That’s enough!” she snapped, raising her hands. “You make me sick, you know that? All that time I worked for you, I believed in you. I believed in your fight for what was right and good and just in this country. I was so grateful that you stood up for the family when no one else would. And now look at you! Groveling in a dark alley, whining like a stupid schoolboy.”
“I know, I know!” he shrugged. “It’s completely wrong. Don’t you think I’m aware of that? Don’t you think it haunts me day and night, that all I can think of is the one person on this planet who wants nothing to do with me?” He yanked off his cap. “Tracey, it makes me crazy. But I never asked for this! I didn’t go looking for someone—it just happened. Surely, you were aware of it too. I could see it in your eyes. Always. You were there, always there at my side—”
“No! I never once thought of you as—”
“You can’t lie to me,” he said, stepping closer. “I know you feel it too. You always wanted us to be more than friends. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”
“Morgan, SHUT UP! We are done here.” She turned on her heel, but he grabbed her, pinning her against the wall, his hands locked on her arms with a strength she never knew he possessed. He kissed her hard even as she jerked her head trying to pull away from him. He kissed her with such force, she couldn’t even cry out. As hot tears began to pour down her cheeks, she could think of only one way to break free. She bit his tongue as hard as she could.
He screamed then caught himself, one hand reaching for his mouth, the other gripping her arm and wrenching it behind her back.
“Morgan, LET ME GO!”
“TRACEY!”
Through her tears, she saw Noah rounding the corner in a blur.
Still, Morgan wouldn’t let go, yanking her arm up higher until she cried out in pain. Suddenly, Noah cold-cocked the senator right on his nose as the sound of cartilage cracking popped in the night air. Morgan spun backward and fell in a heap on the ground. He tried to lift his head then dropped it, out cold.
“Tracey! Are you okay?” Noah pulled her into his arms briefly, then held her at arm’s length. “Are you hurt?”
Tracey couldn’t control the sobs wracking her body. She melted into his embrace in a puddle of tears.
At the sound of footsteps, they both looked up.
“Oh no.” Scott rushed to the senator’s side. “Is he—?”
“No, he’s just out,” Noah said, still holding Tracey close to his side. “But you probably ought to get the car so we can—”
“I’m on it,” Scott said, already taking off for the vehicle.
“TRACEY!” Alex cried, rushing to her side. “Someone told me you’d been—oh my gosh, is that Senator Thompson?!
”
Buddy was right behind her. “Tracey Jo, what on earth is he doing here?” He quickly knelt down and lifted Morgan’s right eyelid then his left. He turned to face his daughter with a proud smile. “Did you do this?”
“No,” Noah said, “the pleasure was all mine.”
Buddy stood up and reached out for Noah’s hand. “Then thank you. For Tracey Jo and for me!”
As the black sedan pulled into the alley, its headlights illuminated the scene. Morgan moaned, raising a shaky hand toward his broken nose. “What . . .?”
“Never you mind, Senator,” Buddy said as Scott joined them. “Your chauffeur and I will get you back in the car.”
“Huh?”
In a matter of minutes, they’d deposited the injured senator into the back seat of the sedan. Scott made his way back to the front seat and started the engine. Just as Buddy was about to shut the back door, Tracey reached for it. “A minute, please?” she asked her father.
“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
As he stepped out of the way, Tracey leaned into the car. “Scott? Take the good senator home—to his wife.”
“Gladly,” he answered, shifting to reverse. “Take care, Tracey,” he said with a ready smile.
“You too, Scott.”
With that, she slammed the door as the car backed out of the alley then disappeared.
Chapter 21
It was close to an hour before Tracey and Noah could finally be alone. Back at the house, they’d patiently chatted with Buddy and Alex before those two said goodnight and went upstairs. With the sudden quiet, Noah felt strangely shy in front of her. They both started to say something at the exact same time.
“Sorry,” he said, “you go ahead.”
“No, you first.”
“I was just going to suggest we go out on the back porch and make a fire. Are you up for that?”
“Sounds nice. You go ahead, and I’ll bring us some coffee.”
By the time she joined him with two mugs of steaming coffee, he’d managed to build a blazing fire. They settled down on the cushioned wicker sofa—the same place they’d sat not so long ago when they researched the Lincoln teacup together.
She handed him a mug. “It’s decaf. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect. Thanks.”
Tracey sipped from her mug, her eyes focused on the fire.
“I was beginning to think we’d never have a chance to talk,” he said, placing his mug on the table. “Seems like at least twelve hours since I first saw you sitting in City Hall.”
She pushed her hair out of her face. “I know. Strange, isn’t it?”
She took another sip of coffee then he gently took the cup from her and set it down. He took her hand in both of his. “Tracey, there’s so much I need to say to you, I don’t even know where to start.”
She smiled, searching his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“And that’s a good thing. First, I need to apologize. It was wrong of me to take off and leave you that day on the ride.” He paused, searching for the words he’d rehearsed all the way home. “The thing is, you deserved an explanation, but I was so freaked out by the accident, I . . . well, I just bolted. It’s what I’ve always done whenever all that stuff—all those memories from Melissa’s crash—starts flooding my mind again. But seeing that little red car and—” He cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is, the whole scene made me feel as if I were reliving that day my wife died.”
He blew out a quick puff of air, wishing his chest wasn’t feeling so tight again.
“Noah, you don’t have to tell me right now—”
“But I do, Tracey. I have to. It’s never going to get any easier, and you have a right to know. Because I can’t have a future with you if I can’t deal with my past. It’s as simple as that. And up until now, whenever the memories got too vivid or the nights got too long, I’d just climb on my bike and disappear. But this time, I realized how futile, how stupid that is. I was just running away. And not just from my inability to cope; I realized I was running away from any possibility of ever living a normal life again. And while I was gone this time, I realized that’s got to stop.”
She turned to face him, tucking her foot beneath her leg, her hand still in his. “Then let’s make it stop. Together. Tell me what you need to tell me, Noah. If it takes all night, that’s fine. Just tell me.”
And so he did.
Noah told her every single detail of that rainy day in April. He told her about the arrogant judge who made him late for his appointment with Melissa and their realtor. She’d found the perfect loft in Soho and wanted him to see it. Noah told Tracey about the taxi driver who couldn’t speak English, and the traffic jam in midtown Manhattan. He told her of making a run for it in the pouring rain and coming upon the accident. He told her how he felt when he first saw the mangled red Volkswagen and prayed it wasn’t Melissa’s. How it felt when he spotted the daisies in the car and the vanity plate that read My Lil’ Bug.
Tracey squeezed his hand, urging him to go on.
“A policeman gave me a ride to the hospital. I kept praying she was okay, but knowing she couldn’t be after seeing the damage to her car. They finally gave me a moment with her . . . but she was already gone. My mind was crazy with grief, and I couldn’t stop crying. I can still hear the sound of my cries bouncing around in that emergency room.”
He stopped, taking a moment to wipe his tears and catch his breath. With a long ragged breath, he continued. “Before I left, the attending physician asked if I wanted to know if the baby was a girl or boy. At first, I had no idea what he was talking about.” Noah coughed and blew out another breath. “See, I hadn’t known . . . she hadn’t told me yet.”
“Oh, Noah,” Tracey whispered.
“I think . . . well, I think that’s why she was so urgent about showing me that loft. I think that’s how she was going to tell me—show me where we’d put a nursery. She was always doing things like that. Surprising me.” He swallowed hard. “But I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded for the doctor to tell me. And he, uh, he said it was a boy.” He tried to smile but couldn’t. “Later, I decided to name him Bradley—that was Melissa’s maiden name. Bradley Bennett. I put that on his gravestone. Next to his mother’s.”
Tracey laced their fingers, gently squeezing his hand. “It’s a beautiful name.”
He grew silent, trying to figure out how to go on. He took another deep breath and eased it back out. “Tracey, what I need you to know—what you need to know—is that I loved my wife very much. And when I lost her, I completely lost my will to live. Which is why I turned my back on everything I’d ever known and just left. I’d never even ridden a motorcycle before. But one day, on nothing but a whim, I traded my BMW for that Harley out there and just took off.
“And to make a long, long story at least a little shorter, a few months later I found myself working as a roadie in Nashville, met some other bikers, and one weekend took a trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains and met a guy named Buddy Collins.”
Tracey smiled. “Ah, the wild, wild preacher man.”
“Yes, and that wild, wild preacher man told me about new beginnings and second chances, and how to find hope again through a personal relationship with Jesus. He drew me into his group of Elders, and showed me how helping others could slowly bring me out of my grief. He gave me opportunities to take the focus off myself and instead focus on the needs of others. Buddy let me learn for myself how to care again by hammering shingles on a roof or fixing a leaky faucet or mowing someone’s lawn.
“And the strangest thing happened. Little by little, I noticed I was starting to feel alive again. That I cared about getting up in the morning because there were people who needed a helping hand.”
He pulled his hands free for a moment to rub his face and dash away the blasted tears. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I think your coffee got cold.”
“That’s not a p
roblem.”
“And the fire needs a little—”
“Noah?”
He looked at her. “What?”
“We’re fine. The fire’s fine. Go on. I’m listening.”
He turned to face her, their knees overlapping as he reached for her hand again. “The thing is—the reason I’ve told you all this is because, for the first time in a very, very long time—I realized how much I want a chance to love again. You’ve been so patient with me, even when I didn’t deserve it. And when I took off, even while I was wandering all over everywhere and nowhere, in the midst of all that, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It finally dawned on me; I had a reason not to run away anymore. And that reason was you.”
She smiled, and that was all it took.
“Tracey Jolene Collins, what I’m trying to say is, I’m in love with you.”
“Yeah?” she whispered, leaning to rest her forehead on his. “I’m really glad to hear it because I love you, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Then would you mind very much if I kissed you?”
She smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.
And so he did.
Chapter 22
On a brisk autumn morning in late October, Alex and Tracey cut the pumpkin-colored ribbon stretched across the front porch of their new shop to the cheers of their friends, family, and neighbors from town. Above them hung a new sign, beautifully lettered in a quaint, swirly font that made it official—Second Chances was open for business.
They spent the rest of the day welcoming their first customers, offering cold apple cider and sugar cookies to all who stopped by. Sales were brisk and compliments poured in along with a steady stream of well-wishers. Noah helped out whenever he could, helping folks carry their newfound treasures to their cars. Out back, the air was filled with the delicious aroma of kettle corn cooking in a big black urn. Buddy and the Elders dished up servings to customers in colorful cone-shaped cups.
Sometime early in the afternoon, Tracey stepped outside for some fresh air. “Daddy, that smells wonderful!”