Whispers of Forever: Mending Christmas (Canyon Junction: Hearts In Love #1)

by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

  On down the road and still breathing hard, she stopped at the store for bread. She waited in the parking lot until her nerves settled. When she felt calm, she entered and picked up a half gallon of cherry-chocolate ice cream, too.

  When Beth entered the front door, her mom rose from the sofa, a questioning look on her face. Beth observed her mother. Humidity from a recent bath left her dark hair in tighter waves than normal. Her brown-olive eyes appeared clearer as if the earlier rest had rejuvenated her. Her slight frame was thinner than her normal Italian-cook body. “It’s all right. Bad timing. I’ll talk to him later.” She needed to lie down. Beth stuck the ice cream into the freezer and made the way to her bedroom. Exhaustion weakened her body tonight.

  Later when Trace had gone to bed, she’d call Jake. It might be better for them to communicate on the phone instead. She wouldn’t have to gaze into his eyes or smell his cologne that way. The emotion surprised her and had snuck in, playing hide and seek with her memories.

  Her mom knocked and entered. “Was it a mistake to go there tonight? I’m sorry for giving you bad advice.”

  “No, nothing like that. You see, Jake’s wife is leaving their son with Jake… Tonight she’s departing.” Beth explained to her mother what he had explained to her. “He must be going through some turmoil. I shouldn’t bother him.”

  “You do what feels right.”

  I tried that years ago. You wouldn’t let me. “I listen to my intuition. What does the nurse say about Dad?” Beth sat on the edge of the bed and put her phone on vibrate.

  “Well, we know he could go at any time, but the nurse said he’s not ready to let go. That’s fine with me, but I don’t want him to suffer.”

  “Mom, his suffering is over. The pain medication keeps him out of it enough.” Beth removed her earrings and parked them in her enamel and tapestry jewelry box atop her mahogany five-drawer chest.

  “Yeah, like a zombie.”

  Trying to remain strong for her mother became a struggle. “Do you see any other way?”

  Isabella cried. “Honey, I miss him so much. The good Lord knows, I want to lie by his side and hold him until he’s gone. The hospital bed is so impersonal.”

  Beth put her arm around her. “Then why don’t you lie with him? Close your eyes. You won’t realize you’re in a hospital bed when you hug him. None of us know what his subconscious hears. Lower the rail and climb into the hospital bed and do it. Tell him you love him. I tell him.”

  Isabella pushed her disheveled hair back and sat up straighter. “Do you think I could?”

  “I don’t see why not. He’s your husband. If you want to lie beside him, do it.”

  She smiled though tears fell. “You’re so smart. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “Because, Mamma, you’re too worn out to think straight. We both are.” We both are. It must’ve been the reason she swooned over a teenage love.

  Isabella patted her hand and rose from the bed. “Try to get a nap, sweetie. I’ll sit with your dad for a while.”

  “Why not pour a glass of wine and relax. It’ll do you good. I’ll open a new bottle of red.”

  Isabella removed her purple knit sweater. “Fantastic idea. I’ll take care of it, my dear. We have opened wine.”

  When her mom left, she lay back with her hands behind her head, staring out the window until her eyes burned and blurred. Too worn out to think straight. Was that her intuition trying to talk some sense into her? Neither she nor Jake had needed anything else to deal with in their life at the moment.

  ***

  On the way through the living room, Jake said to his son, “Trace, go wash your hands. It’s time for dinner.” He got plates from the cupboard. “Thanks for offering to bring dinner tonight, Paige. My cooking skills will improve. I’m better at grillin’.” He set three plates at the dining room table, poured milk into a glass for Trace, and set a pitcher of iced tea on the table, trying to make the best of the situation. She’d be gone shortly, and he had to think of his child.

  “I didn’t want to toss out good food, so I made this. You’ll be the one with leftovers.” Paige gave a nervous laugh.

  “Come on, Trace.” He pulled the chair out for his son. Paige sat at the far end of the table instead of next to him.

  She took out her phone as Jake passed the dish to Trace. He remembered salad dressing and hopped up to grab it from the fridge.

  “Mommy, no phones at the table.”

  She lifted her eyes and Jake nearly choked. Someone finally listened to his dinner table rule? He retrieved the bread from the island in the kitchen then sat back down again.

  “Oh, honey, I’m checking the weather. It’s a long flight and when we get closer to the East, the weather could be a lot different than here. Storms are predicted.”

  “Paige?” Jake turned his hands upward and gave a subtle shake to his head. What the hell had she been thinking? Trace had already been confused over what was going on and uneasy about her leaving.

  “Well, I’m only checking weather. I’ve never been a fan of flying, and to be truthful, that little bitty plane scares me to death.”

  “It was fun, Mamma. Just don’t fly in the rain.”

  Paige put her hand over Trace’s and smiled. “Yes, it was fun, honey. I’m glad you liked it.” She glanced at Jake, but he flicked his gaze away from her.

  They talked about detention and Trace’s schoolwork. Nothing but small talk to get through this. Knowing in a matter of hours she’d begin a new life with another man, cut him from the inside out. Cheating hurt more than anything else. For a time he had suspected her infidelity, but she had turned out to be a convincing liar. Their marriage sucked, but they had held it together for the sake of their child. Stupid. It almost made him wish he’d taken those unexpected opportunities that came up now and then. Instead, he turned every one of those hotties down. Well, no more…maybe.

  “Santa will be coming before you know it, and you’ll be here with your dad over break,” said Paige.

  What the hell? Why had she said that? Christmas was a freaking two months away. Jake shot her a condescending glare.

  “Will you be here for Christmas, Mom?”

  Paige glanced at Jake, and then answered, “Not me, but you have your father, your horses, and of course, Kasha. That’s enough to keep you busy. I’ll send a big Christmas present for you, though, so you’ll have one from me, too.” At the mention of her name, Kasha got up and moseyed over, shoving her nose beneath Paige’s hand resting on her lap, forcing a pat. “That’a girl. You’re a good dog!”

  Trace stared off at the pepper grinder in the center of the table, a frown on his forehead—a probable awakening—guessing she’d be gone for a long time.

  Yeah, Christmas present all right. A baby half-brother or sister. Now he wanted to punch something or gag. The longer she sat there in the kitchen they used to share as a couple, the more pissed off he became. In fact, he had to leave. He slid his chair out. “I forgot to take care of a chore in the barn. I need to double check on an order, too. You two finish dinner. There’s some cherry-chocolate ice cream in the fridge for dessert.” Jake mussed T.J.’s hair and winked at his kid. “Finish dinner. I’ll be in soon.” He left out the door in a calm manner.

  Dammit. Why’d he offer her to come to dinner? With a palliative breath, he knew why. He checked his phone. No messages. Since he hadn’t really had anything to check in the barns, he turned on the conveyor and sent hay bales to the loft, then went up there to stack them. Jake believed the chance for her to come back for Trace was slim, and in fact, he expected her to cut ties with her old life. Maybe it was his gut telling him that.

  An hour and a half later, he entered the back door. Paige and Trace were in the living room, and someone plugged in the lighted pumpkin. Without a Halloween display like the one Paige had at her place, this one looked bare over on the square table near the bay window.

  “What’s going on?” he asked as he entered the living ro
om with a beer. “Nice pumpkin.”

  “I like it, Dad. I plugged it in. We’re looking at pictures. Come see them!” He held up a picture and shoved it into Jake’s hand. “This is Austin’s plane.”

  Yeah, great. “Hmm, not that small.” He turned it over and read “Piper PA32 Small Aircraft.” Screw it. He handed it back to Trace. “Nice.” In reality, he was about to vomit. The guy had a freaking Piper PA32. That wasn’t cheap.

  Paige stood. “Well, it’s time I go. Our flight is scheduled to leave in a couple hours. Trace, come give Mom a hug, honey. I’m going to miss you.” She bent to hug him. Over his shoulder, she lifted her eyes to Jake.

  A lump stuck in his throat. This was it. He turned her over to another man like a father at a wedding. She was leaving them. The tear-filled look in her eyes was one he’d never forget.

  Trace cried when they parted. “Mommy?”

  “Shh,” she said, placing her finger over his lips. “I know you’re sad. I’ll call you later, big guy.” She hugged him again. “Don’t ever forget I love you, sweetheart.” Again she peered up at Jake who glanced away.

  His heart beat fast and strong. It took all the strength he had to stand there straight-faced, feigning calm as if he didn’t care. He cared. Even if he had wanted to hate her, he couldn’t, but it slowly brewed in his body and mind, especially after seeing the pain in his boy’s eyes—pain she had caused. He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to do this, but it would be worthless. She loved the other guy enough to have his baby. To give everything up for him. Yep, hate began to boil now. “Take care of yourself, Paige. I’ll take good care of our boy.”

  “I know you will, sweetie,” she said softly with a tenderness in her eyes he hadn’t seen in ages. Paige released Trace and hugged Jake, whispering, “A part of me will always…well, you know.”

  “But not enough.” Jake took a deep breath and left her embrace. “Come here, bud.” He lifted his son who was more than half of Jake’s height, and carried him outside to see her off. Trace didn’t object, now crying on his shoulder as Paige drove away. “Daddy?”

  “What, son?” he gulped out as the taillights faded.

  “Will Mom come back?”

  Trace’s heart beat as hard and fast as his did. He hugged him tighter, a desert-sand dryness blocking a normal swallow. “She said she would.” Jake gulped again. “Let’s take a walk through the barn.” He started to put T.J. down, but he tightened his hold around his dad’s neck.

  “No.” He cried and Jake stood right there holding him and he cried internally.

  After a few minutes, he found his voice. “Let’s go see the horses before we go back inside.”

  “Okay. Don’t tell nobody I cried like a stupid baby. I want a new saddle. Can I go to Destiny’s birthday party this weekend? She invited me.”

  “Of course. I hope you know what to buy a girl for her birthday,” Jake teased. “About the saddle. We’ll ask Santa when he comes to town for the parade.”

  Trace scurried out of his dad’s arms. “I don’t believe in Santa.” He paused and continued observing his dad’s face. “Do you?”

  “Sometimes.” Jake gave a fake laugh, hoping his observant son hadn’t picked up on the insincerity of it. “Listen, I hear Blue grunting in there. I bet he wants one of Mrs. Carlson’s molasses cookies.”

  ***

  After feeding and watering their horses, they came in from the barn. Trace got a bath and then Jake took a shower while his boy ate ice cream in front of the TV. He stood at the mirror in the small bathroom downstairs about to put shaving cream on his face.

  A shattering scream ripped from Trace’s throat, “Daddy! Daddy? Dad…”

  What the hell? Jake dropped his razor and rushed into the living room. “What’s the matter? Why are you watching the news, bud?” He glanced at the screen. Breaking News. “What happened?”

  Trace stood in front of the TV pointing. He didn’t say anything more, but his chin dimpled and quivered.

  Jake’s feet had been knocked out from under him, and he dropped to the sofa. Blood drained from his face, and it all dropped to his feet. His head spun, and he was unable to believe what he saw. Oh, my God. “Come here, T.J.” He reached out to bring him close, to hold him, to embrace him.

  “A plane crash. Is it Austin’s plane?” he asked, close to hysteria. “It is his! Dad?” He read out loud, “Piper PA32,” as information scrolled across the bottom of the report. Trace turned toward his dad, his face wet with tears, his body trembling.

  “Here, let’s change the channel.” Jake’s phone rang before he got the remote. He lost all focus, but his gaze couldn’t leave the TV screen. What was left of the plane looked like the one in the picture he had held in his hand earlier, and he let the phone ring.

  Trace answered before Jake could grab it, “Mommy, is it you?” He held the phone out to his dad with a terrified blankness in his eyes. “Grandpa Bill wants to talk to you.”

  Jake took the phone call from Paige’s dad. Everything moved in slow motion from that point on. “Hello…” His world turned black as he listened. “Are you sure? None? Confirmed? We need to go to the airport?” He paused. What else could he say with his child standing here waiting for answers? What could he do? Nothing.

  “Jake? Are you all right?” asked Bill Barnes. “Can I call your parents?”

  “Yeah, Bill. That’d be great.”

  “I’m sorry to have let you know this way, but…”

  “You had to,” said Jake in a disheartened tone. “I understand, Bill. Better you don’t drive right now. What can I do? Should I come over?”

  Trace tugged on his shirt sleeve. “Daddy? I want Mom. I want my mom now!”

  “No, Jake. Fran and I are dealing with this the best we can. It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

  Jake wrote down the number he had given him to get more information. The National Transportation and Safety Board would arrive at the crash site soon. He closed his eyes and released a breath. Paige had been so close to starting her new life. Holy God almighty. He pulled T.J. onto his lap, still unable to speak as his son screamed out for his mother.

  Later, he dialed the number Bill had given him, and he learned Paige miscarried on the scene—was conscious when help had arrived, giving both hers and Austin’s names to first responders, but she died on the way to the hospital from skull and internal injuries more than likely. Austin had died in the crash. God, that had to be awful for her.

  What had been the last thing on her mind? Trace. It had to be her son. He confirmed Trace’s fears that yes, it was Austin’s plane. Jake’s phone rang all evening long once the passenger list had been released—being only two passengers, and with Paige living so close to the scene, it hadn’t taken long to confirm identities. Austin’s family had apparently planned to fly in immediately. He finally turned his phone off when his parents arrived.

  For the next few hours, they all made small talk when they weren’t silent. Jake tried to comfort his son the best he could. Having his mom and dad there brought solace in some weird way until they left near ten o’clock. He called to check on Bill and Fran. Their best friends had arrived to be with them. T.J. cried himself to sleep in Jake’s arms in a rocking chair like he had when he was a baby.

  He had never wanted anything to happen to her, no matter how mad or hurt he had been. Now he had to plan a funeral, coddle their son, and get him through the days ahead. Sonofabitch. Life sucks. He stood and moved Trace to the couch and covered him with a blanket. Tonight, and many to come, he wouldn’t be far from him.

  ***

  Jake still sat in the same chair into the daylight. Ranch hands arrived earlier.

  A knock on his door brought him out of his head. When he opened it, there stood Judy Carlson, the matriarch of the Double Dutch Ranch outside of town, and her son, Tristan. They brought coffee and rolls. Jake’s mom and dad weren’t far behind.

  “Oh, son,” said his mom when she hugged him. His fingers went to his lips. “Trace is s
till sleeping. I gotta call his school.”

  “I’ll take care of the call.” His mom, Silvia, squeezed him tight. “We talked to Fran.”

  “Well, Jake, honey,” said Judy Carlson. “I wanted to drop this off to you. You call the Double Dutch if you need anything.”

  “If you need someone to watch Trace while you take care of things, bring him over.” Tristan clenched Jake’s shoulder. “He can spend time at the ranch, or with any of us.”

  “I won’t be leaving him anywhere, at least not for a while. I appreciate the offer, though, Tristan. Thanks. You’re a good friend.”

  His mother wrapped her arm around his waist. “Well, Jake, you can’t take him with you to make arrangements. Bring him over so your dad and I can take care of him until you get back. I don’t see why you have to do this now after she was leaving you with another man.”

  “She left my name along with Bill’s and Fran’s name as an emergency contact, Mom. And, because I’m officially her husband. T.J.’s been in that damn plane with them. If I hadn’t demanded to keep him this time, he’d…he would’ve been with them last night. I’d have lost him.” I would’ve lost everything.

  “Dad?”

  Jake squeezed his eyes closed and parted from his mom’s embrace. “Yeah, T.J.?”

  “I can’t sleep anymore. Is it real? Is my mom dead?” Already knowing the answer, tears rolled from his bloodshot eyes.

  Jake’s dad, Derrick, went to him. “Come on, I’ll come sit with you.” Derrick placed his arm around Trace and led him out of the room.

  “We’re leaving now, Jake, sweetie.” Judy dabbed at her own tears with an embroidered handkerchief. “Remember, anything you need, call us. Call any one of my boys. We’re all here for you.”

  Jake quivered inside. “I will. Thanks, again, Judy. Y’all are true friends.”

  “Don’t you worry about anything,” she stated. “I’ll talk to everyone, and we’ll take care of whatever you need. Food, babysitting. You name it. I’ll talk to Paige’s mother.”