Tonight Zoey had arranged for her mother to take care of Tara while Mandy was at dance class and Blake was practicing at the Morgans’. They were finally going to jog together after juggling theirs and the kids’ schedules. How had Zoey kept up with everything by herself?
The doorbell chimed. Dane strode toward the entry hall, shouting upstairs, “I’ll get it.”
Surprise rippled through him when he saw Eddy on his front porch. “Is everything okay?”
A smile transformed the teenager’s face. “Yes! I know you’re leaving for Dallas tomorrow morning, but I wanted to let you know my dad went to the AA meeting last night.”
The hope and enthusiasm in Eddy’s voice spurred Dane’s. “That’s great! What did he think?”
“He’s gonna go back next week. And he wants me to go to the meeting for the family members.”
“That’ll be good for you. I hope you do.”
“This wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t helped me. I wanted to thank you before you left.” Eddy stuck out his hand.
Dane shook it, his throat tightening. “I’ll be back. I’m only going for a few days, so we can talk some more this weekend. Do you want us to pick you up for church?”
“No, Dad and I are gonna go this Sunday. Dad came home tonight from work all excited. Mr. Norton has announced he’ll be leaving the bank and Sweetwater at the end of the summer, which will make things a whole lot more comfortable for me and Dad.”
“I can see how that will be better for everyone.” Dane hoped that this burst of fervor from Eddy’s father would last past his first disappointment. He wished he could be here for the teen in case his dad had a relapse. Having gone through several with his own while growing up, he knew what Eddy would experience when he discovered his father drinking again. Perhaps it wouldn’t happen, but still he wanted to be around for Eddy in case it did.
“Hi, Mrs. Witherspoon,” Eddy said, looking behind Dane.
Dane turned toward Zoey. “Eddy’s dad went to the AA meeting last night at the church.”
Zoey smiled as she finished putting her hair up into a ponytail. “That’s wonderful.”
“Well, I’d better be going. It looks like you two are gonna go running.”
“I’m going to try to keep up with my husband. I’m out of practice.”
“Mr. Witherspoon, you’ll have to slow your pace.”
Dane chuckled. “Are you kidding, Eddy? She can run circles around me.”
When Eddy left, Zoey playfully punched Dane in the arm. “You’re exaggerating, Dane Witherspoon. I haven’t gotten a chance to run in a month.”
Dane raised both his brows. “Maybe we should race then.”
“Sure. Better get the key and lock the door.” Zoey stepped out onto the porch.
While he went to the table in the entryway where he kept his keys, Zoey spun around, leaped off the porch and started running.
“Hey, you cheated,” she heard Dane shout behind her.
At the street Zoey turned around and jogged backwards. “A gal’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.”
Moving forward again, Zoey concentrated on putting some distance between her and Dane. She hadn’t jogged much since Dane’s return, but before that she had a lot. Thankfully her body fell into its old rhythm. Several blocks away from the house, she glanced back and saw that Dane was keeping up but hadn’t gained any on her. Again focusing forward, she settled into a comfortable pace, her breathing even.
Two more blocks and Zoey thought maybe she should slow down. After all she should be running with Dane, not from him. She peered over her shoulder to see how far back he was. The street was empty!
Her pace faltered. Cutting her speed in half, she tried to determined what had happened to Dane. What if he’d tripped or hurt himself? She came to a stop, contemplating what to do when suddenly from behind someone tackled her to the grass on the side of the road.
For a split second her heart seemed to cease beating until she felt the familiar arms of her husband pinning her to the ground and smelled his particular masculine scent mingling with earthy odors of dirt and grass.
He leaned close to her ear, her cheek pressed into the green softness. “If you can start without me, I can take a shortcut to even the playing field.”
The tickle of his breath along her neck sent a shiver down her. The warmth of his body covering hers produced visions of intimate nights spent in his embrace—an eternity ago.
He shoved himself up, sitting on the lawn, his arms resting on his raised knees. Zoey rolled over and looked up at her husband. The proud angle of his profile, the way the fading sunlight highlighted the strands of silver in his dark hair, caught her full attention. Now her heart pounded a quick tempo that had nothing to do with her jog. Would their relationship ever get back to the way it had been when they had first married—when life and work hadn’t intruded into their world?
Zoey pushed to a sitting position next to Dane, her arm brushing up against his. Noticing they were on Beth and Samuel’s front lawn with the church next door, she said, “Do you want to go see how Blake is doing?”
Dane shook his head. “This is our time. Besides, I want to be surprised when he plays at church for the first time.”
“So you’re gonna continue to attend church?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.
“Yes. Samuel’s inspiring and a good friend. I’ve never had time to form friendships before because of my work.”
“But what about God?”
He quirked a brow. “What about Him?”
“That’s what church is all about. Do you believe or are you just going to please me?”
“Honestly I’m still trying to figure that one out. When I was growing up, I went to church when my mother was alive. Dad couldn’t be bothered. After she died, I tried to go with a friend, but it became increasingly hard. Then when I sought God’s help, my prayers were never answered. I stopped praying and relied only on myself.”
“Have you ever considered that was the Lord’s answer? That He wanted you to be strong, capable of dealing with your father’s drinking?”
His eyes darkened. “It’s not that simple.” Climbing to his feet, Dane started toward the church.
Zoey caught up with him near the entrance into the Garden of Serenity. “I never said it was simple. Life is anything but that. But loving God is simple. You put your trust in the Lord to be there for you in the bad and good times as your support. It doesn’t mean that life’s problems go away. It just means you aren’t alone in dealing with them.”
“How do you turn control over to Him?”
“That’s easy. He only has your best interest in His heart.”
Dane paced back and forth in front of the pond. “I had to learn early I was the only one I could depend on.”
Zoey clasped his arm, stopping him. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m here for you. God’s here for you.”
“I’m thirty-eight years old. How do I change a lifetime habit?” He shrugged out of her grasp and put some distance between them.
His gesture pierced her heart as though he were stating that she and their love were not enough for him. “One step at a time. But first you have to want to change.” Let me in. Let me help you.
Dane watched the play of emotions flicker into her eyes with a silent plea finally settling over her features. How do I let go of the past? It’s what made me who I am today. He’d tried to ignore the memories, but they always seeped through to haunt him when he least expected them. “I don’t—” He couldn’t voice aloud his failures. He wanted to tell her, had told her more than anyone else, but he’d bore his guilt alone for so long he didn’t know how to change that.
Zoey’s expression crumbled, hurt in her eyes. She whirled around and jogged toward the entrance. Dane started to go after her, then realized he couldn’t reassure her. He couldn’t give her what she wanted—to lay his soul bare for her. Their marriage was on such a rocky foundation he didn’t want to see d
isgust or pity in her eyes.
Dane sank down on the bench, clasped his hands and stared at the ground. Lord, Zoey says You’re here to help. If that’s so, I need it. My life’s a mess. How do I fix it?
Long minutes passed but no answer came to mind. The sun sank below the trees. Shadows fingered their way through the garden. What had he expected—a declaration blasted from the heavens?
“Dane?”
He looked up to see Samuel standing by the pond.
“I didn’t realize you were here.”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“This place’s good for that.” Samuel took a seat on the bench opposite Dane. “Concerned about your trip to Dallas?”
“I wish it were that simple.”
“Eddy came by a little while ago. He ended up helping the boys with their band. They were so excited about getting help from a high-schooler.”
“His dad’s getting help finally.”
“I know. Eddy told me. He is, too. It might not have happened without your intervention.”
Dane lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Someone else would have stepped in.”
“You’re selling yourself short. You’re the one who turned Eddy around.”
Dane peered away, following the progress of the goldfish as they swam in the pool.
“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
Samuel’s question came to him as though his friend had spoken through a long tunnel. Dane remembered the hurt in Zoey’s eyes as she had spun away and fled the garden. “How do you get rid of guilt?”
“Have you truly confronted the problem? Have you turned it over to the Lord?”
Dane snorted. “It’s not that simple.”
“I didn’t say it was simple. It isn’t.” Samuel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “But if you keep it bottled up inside of you, it will eat at you until there’s nothing left. I know. I did the same thing. When my first wife died, I felt guilty for surviving without her. She was my whole life, or so I had thought. It took God and Beth to show me there was more to my life, that I still had a lot to give.”
Dane didn’t know what to say to his friend. His emotions were so jumbled, as though they were a ball of yarn that couldn’t be unraveled.
Samuel rose. “You’ve done a lot for the people of Sweetwater in the short time you’ve been here. Because of you, we’ll be getting a much-needed youth center. And you personally touched a young man who desperately needed help. There comes a time you have to let go of your past, to turn it over to the Lord. If you allow your past mistakes, whatever they may be, to dominate your present, they will destroy you. Remember, Dane, we all make mistakes. God knows that. He forgives us. So why can’t you forgive yourself?”
Samuel left Dane alone to his thoughts as the shadows of night lengthened and darkness cloaked the garden. He needed to get home. But what could he say to Zoey? He had no answers, but he did have much to think about.
* * *
Dane sat at the desk in the den, scribbling his thoughts in his journal. The second he had reached home, he had come into the room and begun writing, reflecting on what Samuel had said. He’d never written his feelings down about Jacob’s death. He’d always felt if he’d put them down on paper they would be forever engraved into his heart. He’d spent so much time running away from what had happened to his little brother. It was time he faced it and tried to deal with it.
His hand trembled as he penned the account of what had led him to become a DEA agent. As if it were yesterday, he remembered how Jacob had hero-worshipped him, following him around like a lost puppy, looking to him to protect him from the harsh reality of living with their father. But most of all he recalled the night he had discovered Jacob dead from an overdose. That day he had realized he had totally let his little brother down. He’d been too wrapped up in his own life to see that Jacob had turned to something else to help him cope. The memory, that always produced the guilt, tore through him as though a hurricane ravaged him, leaving his soul tattered.
“Dane.”
He quickly closed his journal, twisting about to face Zoey. His hands still shaking, he clasped them. “Yes?” was all he managed to say, glad that he had been able to do that much.
“You need to talk to Blake. He needs to hear from you that you are returning home this weekend, that you aren’t leaving again, this time for good.”
At that moment he wasn’t sure he could reassure his son anything. He bled from his shredded emotions. Where are You, God? “He should know I’m coming back. I told him.”
“You did the last time, too. That’s all he remembers.”
The rapid thumping of his heart made it difficult even to draw in a decent breath. He nodded and stood, his legs unsteady. He gripped the desk. God, I need You.
He plodded past Zoey and up the stairs. He paused; the hallway to Blake’s room seemed a mile long. I don’t want to lose my son. Lord, how do I convince him I’m coming home?
Dane took the first step toward Blake’s room. You aren’t alone. I’m with you.
The comforting words flittered across his mind. His stride lengthened, and before he knew it, he was in front of his son’s door. As he raised a hand to knock, a peaceful calm flowed through him.
Dane rapped on the wood once before entering Blake’s room.
His son lay on his bed, his arms crossed behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, not saying a word. Suddenly it felt as if he and his son were back to the way it was when he had first returned home.
You aren’t alone.
Latching on to the serenity he’d experienced in the hallway, Dane crossed the room and sat on the bed.
* * *
The silence of the den taunted Zoey as she paced, waiting for Dane to return. She didn’t know how much more of being shut out of his life she could take. Maybe he needed to stay in Dallas. Maybe they needed time and space away from each other. Certainly being in the same house hadn’t resolved their problems. In fact, the pain of having him so near and not being an important part of his life hurt her to the point she was beginning to think she might be better off separated from him. She’d managed before. She would again.
The book he had closed when she had come into the den caught her attention. Near the desk she stopped and ran her finger over its black leather. Not really a book. Curious, she opened it, immediately glimpsing Dane’s handwriting. The name Jacob in bold black letters leaped off the page. His brother. Quickly she slammed it shut. A journal? Dane?
She took it in her grasp and moved to the couch. Were his thoughts and feelings that he’d kept hidden from her revealed in these pages? Would she finally know what made her husband tick if she read it? She lay the leather-bound journal in her lap, touching its edge with trembling fingers.
Temptation, as she’d never known, overwhelmed her. If only she understood Dane, then maybe there was a chance. All she had to do was open the book and read.
* * *
“Blake, let’s talk.”
His son rolled over onto his side, facing away from him. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, there is. Me leaving.”
“What’s new?”
“Do you want to come with me?”
Blake twisted around, his eyes round. “You mean it? Come with you to work?”
“I mean it.” The second he’d asked his son he’d known this was the right thing to do. No words would reassure Blake totally. Only being with Dane and coming home with him would make his son realize he wasn’t going to leave him again.
“What about school?”
“You can miss a few days. I can show you what I do.” He also realized he’d never shown Blake what he’d done for a living. His job in his son’s mind was mysterious, full of danger, because all he could go on was what he’d seen on television or in the movies. “I’ll have to warn you it won’t be very exciting.”
“This will be so cool. Sean and Craig will be envious.” His huge grin sudd
enly vanished. “Mom won’t let me skip school. She’s always said attendance is important.”
“Let me handle your mom. Besides, you aren’t exactly skipping school. You can take your books with you and work when I’m in meetings.”
Blake leaped from the bed and went to his dresser. “I’d better start packing since you’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”
“Do you have a bag?”
“Yep.” Blake opened his closet door and pulled a piece of luggage out.
Dane rose. “Then I’ll leave you to pack while I go square this with your mom.”
When Dane stepped out into the hallway and was about to close the door, Blake said, “Thanks, Dad. This means a lot to me.”
As Dane made his way down the stairs, a lightness took hold of him. Why hadn’t he thought to take Blake to work before now? This felt so right and now all he had to do was convince Zoey.
He searched the first floor, puzzled when he didn’t find her in the living room or kitchen. Finally he went back to the den where he’d left her earlier and came to an abrupt halt when he found her sitting on the couch with his journal in her lap, her head down, her fingers clasping its edge as though she had just slammed it shut. Anger at her nerve to go through something so private, so personal, chased away all light feelings.
He clenched his hands. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
She yanked her head up. “I didn’t read it. At least not much. I mean, only a word or two.”
He strode to her and snatched it from her grasp. “If I had wanted you to read my journal, I would have given it to you. You invaded my privacy.”
His words, laced with steel, lashed out at her, cutting through her already fragile emotions. Her own anger burst forth. “Maybe if you shared your feelings with me, I wouldn’t have to resort to other means.”
She wasn’t going to tell him all she had read was his brother’s name and the word “was.” She’d had it with Dane and his secrets. She’d sat for the past fifteen minutes debating whether to read the journal or not and had finally decided if Dane didn’t tell her himself it didn’t mean anything to her. If he didn’t willingly share his past with her, what good would it do her to find out what he was thinking by going behind his back? The bottom line would be that she would still be excluded from his innermost thoughts.
When Dreams Come True Page 17