by Jillian Hart
Her heart filled, watching as he studied the first page. His face lined with concentration, he lifted his right hand—he used to be left-handed—and ran his finger across the plastic-sheathed page. Emotion welled in his eyes, and she felt it like a bolt of lightning. Stricken, she pulled back into the kitchen, longing, just longing for everything to be all right. For the pieces of their lives to be put back in place.
She hurried about, putting his favorite chocolate cookies on a plate. By the time she’d loaded everything on a small tray and carried it into the living room, Jonas had leaned back onto the couch and had the book open on his knees.
He looked up with a grin on his face. “That sure smells good.”
“I hope so.” She slid the plate onto the coffee table first and then handed him a soft cookie.
He paused before he took a bite. “I liked the ones you sent in the box.”
When he’d been in rehabilitation, she’d sent weekly care packages, when she hadn’t been able to make the long trip to Seattle. “The oatmeal-raisin cookies didn’t break when I shipped them,” she explained as she eased beside him onto the couch. “I was saving these for a homecoming surprise.”
He took a bite. “Good. Very good. I like them.”
She knew he wouldn’t remember they were his favorite, or that she’d made them all the time for him when they’d been dating. That he’d said—oh, her heart cracked deeply remembering—
“I can see why I married you.” He held up the remaining half of the cookie. “Why? What did I say?”
The room suddenly blurred, and she shook her head, blinking hard. She reached for a cookie. “That’s what you used to say before you proposed to me.”
“Yeah? What else can you make? Maybe I’ll have to propose again.”
There was that ghost of his grin. How good it was to see. She relaxed against the cushions. “You’ll have to wait and see. What do you think of the pictures?”
“I sure got a pretty wife.”
“Now you’re just trying to get more cookies.”
“Sure, but it’s true.” He took another cookie from the plate with his awkward fingers. “I’m a lucky man.” He tapped the page with his knuckle. “What’s that?”
“Mom and Dad’s RV. It’s a motor home.” When he stared at her uncomprehendingly, she explained, “You drive it and sleep in it.”
“We did?”
“Handsome, you drove that monster.” She didn’t suppose he remembered their half affectionate and half not-so-affectionate name for the vehicle that had been hard to park and harder to maneuver along narrow roads. She leaned close to get a better look at the page.
The digital pictures, which she’d printed off on the snazzy little photo printer her twin sisters had given her for her last birthday, showed them starting out from their driveway. She looked at herself and groaned. Even with Madison on her hip, her tummy problem still showed. Goodness. She sighed. Otherwise, the snapshot looked great. Tyler was grinning wide, practically a blur of motion. “It had been almost impossible for Tyler to stand still for a single moment. He was so excited that morning.”
“He looks happy.” Jonas swallowed, as if he were struggling with emotions. “Everybody did.”
“It was your first vacation all year.” Somehow, remembering made her heart warm, made the distance between her and this new, different Jonas less cumbersome. “You got everyone up early, you were so excited to go, and made everyone breakfast before we left. It was wonderful, and a little easier on me.”
“You make breakfast?”
“Just about every morning.” She didn’t add how, that long-ago morning, he’d hugged her so tightly and sweetly and whispered in her ear how glad he was to be able to spend the next two weeks with her. Then he’d set the timer on the camera and rushed back to the steps to scoot in next to her, and tickle Tyler so he was laughing when the timer went off.
Maybe he would remember that in time, she hoped. “Turn the page and you’ll see—”
She waited while he fumbled with the thick plastic edge. She hated how hard he had to work to turn the page and she waited, not knowing if it would hurt his pride worse to have her help, but he finally managed it on his own. His strong beautiful hand was slightly bent and twisted, a condition that the neurologists thought would gradually disappear. She resisted the urge to take his fingers in hers and massage them, as if she could rub that partial paralysis away.
“I’m driving.” He looked surprised. “I had hair.”
“Yes, and it will grow back.”
He looked sheepish and nodded. He studied the page for a long time. They were the photos she’d taken from the front passenger seat of Jonas driving away from their home, of Tyler wearing his fireman hat and strapped into his seat, grinning ear to ear, and of Madison yawning hugely in her car seat. Her soft brown curls were like a cloud around her button face. Danielle felt full to the brim. Her family. Her loves. Her everything.
When Jonas turned to the facing page, his lopsided smile widened. Happiness lit his eyes. He tapped the page where they’d pulled over to the side of a small-town street. In the cluster of small pictures, Jonas was holding his son’s hand, so small in his big capable one, and they stood side by side watching a hawk perched on a high branch of a tree. Another picture showed Tyler’s little face staring trustingly up at his father—so vulnerable and good and sweet.
Jonas swallowed visibly. “I don’t want to—” He stopped, as if searching for the word. “I don’t want to—” He shook his head. Lines of frustration and misery dug into his handsome face. “I can’t think of the word.”
She laid her hand on his and felt the warm unyielding band of his wedding ring beneath her palm. “I’m glad to have you home, Jonas. If you’re worried about disappointing us—”
He nodded. “That’s the word. I—” He shrugged helplessly, unable to say what was in his heart.
But she knew. Even as injured as he was, she would always know her husband’s heart. “You’re here. That means more than you know. The rest of it—the remembering, everything—it will get easier.”
Relief passed across his face and he nodded once, his gaze fastened on hers. She hadn’t realized how much he needed this, too, to be here, to try to find their normal lives again. She watched as he touched the snapshot with Tyler gazing up adoringly, full of awe and love for his dad. Jonas cleared his throat. “I don’t want to disappoint.”
“Tyler just wants you to love him. It will be all right.”
He nodded and looked away, unreadable, like a stranger once more.
Danielle took a shaky breath and removed her hand. She waited as he turned to the next page, studying the picnic they’d had at a small park along the way, taking in the sunshine beneath the awning of the RV, laughing and sunny. She hadn’t realized how perfect their lives had been at that moment, with Madison messy and fussy and Tyler hyper from being buckled in for the morning, and the weight of worry and responsibility nagging at her. She would give nearly anything to have her husband look at her now the way he did in the photo, as if he knew her better than she knew herself and loved her, every shortcoming, every flaw, every strength.
“This is a good book.” Jonas tapped the picture he’d taken—and didn’t remember—of her buckling in Madison, who was in the middle of struggling, chubby arms reaching toward her daddy. “I can see a lot.”
She was glad she’d taken the time to make the album, the careful cutting and pasting, the rubber-stamping and gluing and framing, the glitter and cutouts and ribbons. These memories and pictures were more important now than ever. She’d originally started the books so that they wouldn’t forget the good times and the small details about the kids—they were growing so fast!—but now it had a larger purpose. To remember where they’d been. For what could be again.
The front door opened, and the security system chimed an announcement.
“Hello?” Her older sister Katherine’s voice echoed in the foyer over the sound of running little-
boy feet. “Anybody home?”
For a nanosecond, Jonas’s gaze found hers, the panic raw and honest on his face. So many expectations, because Tyler didn’t know his daddy couldn’t remember him. They had decided together that it wouldn’t be right to hurt him that way, to rock his security like that. So, the little boy who pounded into the room, his brown hair sticking straight up, only knew his daddy had been hurt and was now home to stay. Excitement lit him up like a lightbulb as he threw his arms wide and wrapped them around Jonas.
“You’re here! Daddy, you’re home!” Tyler didn’t let go but laid his cheek on his dad’s wide chest and grinned up at him. “Aunt Katherine brought nachos and Mexi-fries just for you.”
Danielle knew that the man beside her no longer knew the significance of their inside joke of Mexi-fries, but that didn’t matter. Jonas’s eyes filled with emotion as he ran an awkward hand over the top of his little son’s head, affectionate and sweet and devoted.
What truly mattered hadn’t changed.
Chapter Two
Danielle walked into the kitchen and saw her sister. Katherine had Madison on her hip and was unloading two bags of food from their favorite Mexican take-out restaurant.
“Mommy!” Madison’s arms shot out and she thrust herself through the air, trusting her aunt had a solid hold on her.
Danielle came to her rescue as Katherine held the half-prone princess. Her little play tiara was askew, sitting crooked in those soft light brown curls, and Madison was bright with happiness. Danielle wrapped a secure arm around her daughter and hefted her onto her hip.
“They’ve both been wound up all day.” With her sleek blond locks, girl-next-door loveliness and great clothes sense, Katherine was cover-model gorgeous, even four months pregnant. She reached out to straighten Madison’s tiara. “Jonas is in the living room?”
“Yes, Tyler is with him. He’s been waiting a long time for his daddy to come home, poor baby.” She set Madison to the floor and the little girl immediately spun around and stretched both hands toward the out-of-reach counter.
“Gotta get my phone!” she singsonged, while her aunt produced the plastic pink cell phone from the collection of stuff on the counter. “There you go, sweetie. Dani, you look tired. Are you feeling a little worse for wear?”
“And a little short of time. Know where I can buy a few more hours to add to the day?”
“I wish I did, believe me. I’d be the first one in line.” Katherine wrapped her in a hug. “You’ve been going hard all day, which is what I figured. That’s why I brought dinner. It’s a little earlier than your normal suppertime, but I thought you’d be too tired to fix a meal.”
“Could you be more wonderful?” Danielle thought of all that her sister had done for her, and not only Katherine, but her entire family—her brother and sisters and her parents, not to mention her church family. “Like you don’t have enough to do?”
“My Jack wasn’t hurt in the line of duty.”
“Thank God for that.” Danielle prayed for her brother-in-law every day. Katherine’s husband was also a state trooper; Jonas had helped his childhood friend Jack get his job when he moved to Montana last year.
Such violence, like the kind that touched their family, wasn’t common in this part of Montana, but no place was immune, it seemed. The silver lining in this dark time was seeing for sure there was much more good in the world—in people—than bad. “Kath, thanks for taking the kids and for thinking to pick up dinner. For everything.”
“No problem. I wish I would have had the time to make you a real dinner, but there’s a youth group basketball game tonight. Jack stayed behind to help Hayden get ready.”
Danielle adored her sister’s stepdaughter. Hayden was thriving, active in their church and excelling at school, which was done for the summer. “She’s starting tonight?”
“Talk about excited. She’s worked so hard. I know she’s going to do well tonight as a starter.”
“Then you don’t want to miss the tip-off. You’d better be going.” Danielle laid her hand gently on her little princess’s small shoulder. Madison, chatting away, grinned up at her and kept prattling. “What time’s the game?”
“Not to worry.” Katherine swirled to the sink and turned on the tap. “I’ve got a little bit of time before I have to leave. I might as well make myself useful here. Why don’t you take your little one in to see her daddy, sit down and spend time with your family? Your whole family. Together.”
“I know. It’s almost unbelievable. I’ve been praying for this for so long, I can’t believe it’s finally here.”
“It puts a different meaning to the word blessings, doesn’t it?”
The four of them together in the same house. Danielle’s throat ached with gratitude. How very easily this moment could have never happened.
Katherine washed her hands and reached for a towel. “Oh, I can hear Tyler.”
They both strained to listen to the little boy in the neighboring room, his voice clear and sweet. “Daddy, that’s the picture where you hit your knee when you was climbin’ up the steps, and you hopped around. Your whole foot tingled so Mom had to drive until we saw the moose.”
“You remember all that?” Jonas asked in his resonant baritone.
“Yep. I remember lotza stuff. I got lotza brains.”
Danielle put her hand over her mouth to hold in the giggle.
“Go on.” Katherine’s eyes were sparkling with mirth as she dried her hands. “Get back to your husband. I’ve got it covered here.”
“I owe you. Expect retaliation when you least expect it.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful. You know how I love your lasagna.”
“I know.” One evening soon, she’d make sure to pay back Katherine for her thoughtfulness tonight, but it couldn’t be enough. Nothing could be. It had been twelve long months that her entire family had been rallying around her and pitching in with the housework and the child care. As much as she appreciated it—and she did very much—the weight of the guilt over inconveniencing them choked her. It was time to start paying back.
She put her hand on her daughter’s soft downy head and gently turned her in the direction of the living room. They went a few paces before Madison suddenly stopped chatting, wrapped one arm around Danielle’s knee and dug in her heels.
Strange. Danielle knew that the little girl hadn’t seen Jonas since their brief trip to Seattle for Christmas. “C’mon, baby, let’s go see your daddy.”
“No.” Madison dropped her phone and buried her face in her hands.
Danielle knelt down—which was awkward since Madison still had one arm tightly around her knee—and realized Jonas was watching them from the couch. Tyler was camped down beside his dad on the cushion, his feet tucked beneath him, shoes and all.
“C’mon, Madison!” Tyler called out. “Mom made the fudge cookies.”
“Fudge cookies?” Madison spread two chubby fingers to peer out and verify the truth of her big brother’s claim.
And right before supper, too, Danielle thought. “Only one, both of you, or you’ll spoil your dinner.”
It was tough being the mom, because she had to face Tyler’s groan and Madison’s gasp of distress at such news. She gently nudged her daughter forward a step. “Go on, sweetie. Tyler has a cookie for you.”
“No.” Madison removed one hand from her face, held up two fingers, reconsidered, and held up three, which meant she wanted three cookies. Her adorable little chin jutted.
Danielle knew that look. Ah, the terrible twos were such a joy. She took a breath and gathered her courage for the impending battle—knowing she’d come out unpopular in the end—and then she felt Katherine’s hand on her shoulder.
“She reminds me of someone,” Katherine said innocently. “Who could it be?”
“Not me.” Danielle started to laugh, even as she denied it. “I’m not stubborn and never have been.”
“No, not you,” Katherine agreed, laughing, as she opened th
e refrigerator door.
Yep, her mother had warned her this day would come. She figured the best way to deal with having a daughter just like herself was to embrace it. She unwrapped Madison from her knee. “It’s too bad you don’t want a cookie.”
“No! No! Bring me some!”
Danielle sighed and turned her back, unable to ignore the fact that her sister was silently laughing as she gathered condiments from the refrigerator.
“Just you wait,” she told Katherine as Madison’s outrage was about to start. “This is what babies turn into.”
Not that she minded, but Madison could really scream—a sound best avoided. “I’m going to have to invest in some earplugs.”
“Or something.” Katherine was still laughing.
“Hi there, Madison,” came Jonas’s deep and gentle voice from across the room. “You want a cookie?”
Danielle turned to see their daughter’s reaction. Madison’s face, red with the beginnings of a typical two-year-old tantrum, scrunched with thought. Her chin stayed up a notch, and slowly she shook her head side to side.
“No!” Madison uttered that word with impressive force. She held up four fingers.
“Suit yourself,” Jonas said, good-naturedly. “Tyler and I will eat ’em.”
Madison’s jaw dropped in surprise. She’d been startled out of her tantrum.
As Danielle knelt to retrieve Madison’s plastic pink phone, Jonas’s gaze fastened on hers. She smiled a thank-you to him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. By the time she’d handed Madison her play cell, Jonas had gone back to studying the album.
His steady baritone was warm with kindness as he asked their son, “What’s this here?”
Tyler, brimming with happiness, pointed to the picture. “That’s where we got to make a campfire. And we had to make sure we had buckets of water and dirt ready in case it went out of control, so we didn’t start a forest fire.”
“You did a good job.”
“Yep, I did. I made sure there was no forest fires! Then, after we did the s’mores—”