by Carol Ross
“Oh, I think you do.”
“Jonah, please stop.”
But he wouldn’t stop. Nope, instead he chose to continue slicing away with his words.
“Because my heart chose you about twenty years ago and as much as I told my head that I was over you—my stubborn heart did not agree. And now, finally, I’m listening to my heart. And it’s not just my heart—it’s my head, too. I’m making a choice. I’m choosing what I want—for me. I choose you, Shay. Kids or no kids. Six cats or ten cats...I would like a dog though. Francis has really done a number on me.”
Shay could only stare at him. His beautiful blue eyes were full of love and she could see it and oh, how it hurt. It looked so like the way he used to love her when she was free to let him love her. She could feel the tears threatening, but knew if she were to try to speak a word, or even move a muscle, the floodgates would open. And she had to make Jonah see reason. He couldn’t look at her like that anymore—or say these kinds of words that made her want things, too.
“No,” she whispered. “I won’t let you do this, Jonah.”
“Shay—”
She somehow found the strength to untangle her hand from his and stand. “You need to go back to Chicago where you belong, Jonah. Right now you’re reacting to everything that has happened here in Rankins. This place might be small but it can be its own little force of nature. Once you’re in the city, your perspective will change again. Good bye, Jonah, and good luck.”
* * *
THAT'S IT, JONAH THOUGHT, as he watched her leave.
No, that wasn’t it, actually. But he had had enough of her...pontificating. And she thought he could get lost in his language of legalese? Ha, Shay spoke fluent martyrdom.
He stood up and jogged after her. She hadn’t made it far. He reached out, took her hand and gave it a tug. She turned and he could see the tears streaming down her face.
“Are you through?” he asked.
“What do you mean am I through?”
“With that speech, where, once again, you get to make my decisions for me? Tell me how I must feel. How I should feel even—and the choices I should make. Then you get to run away and hide because you’re scared.”
She gasped and Jonah was happy to see a flash of anger in her eyes. He was right. And she might not like hearing it, but she was going to.
“How dare you—”
“Shay, listen to me. You’re not the first woman in the world to be faced with this. So you can’t have children? Okay. That may be cruel and unfair, but you have so many other blessings in your life—your family is at the top of that list. And a man standing in front of you right now, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and telling you that he doesn’t care that you can’t have children. It’s getting awkward now talking about myself in the third person, so I’m going to stop and add that I don’t even like kids.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his speech, and at his final, obvious, desperate lie. “Yes, you do.”
“Yes, I do. But maybe I can’t have children either—have you thought of that?”
“We already know that you can—”
He held up a hand. “I’m not finished. Maybe that was my only chance—you don’t know. And even if we could have kids, there would be no guarantees that we’d even like them. I mean, you’re really temperamental and stubborn and a little dramatic at times—I’m just being honest. And I’m arrogant, condescending, and maybe even a little...over-confident. What I’m saying here is that our children could be criminals like my dad or...or...arsonists. Imagine an arsonist in the family with your arsonphobia?”
Shay snuffled out a laugh through her tears. “Did you make that word up?”
“No, honestly, a fear of fire is called arsonphobia.”
She shook her head, and started to argue—stubborn, argumentative woman that she was.
“Shay, think about it for a minute. Take the Crispins for example. Stu and Wanda are nice people—by all accounts, wonderful, caring, generous parents. They have three children—Linda, who refuses to speak to them because they didn’t get her that big-screen TV at Christmas, Stan—a forty-year-old body-builder who can lift a car over his head with one hand but for some reason can’t hold down a job. And who can forget Gordie? He emptied out their retirement account and took off to the Caribbean. Interpol is after him.”
“Jonah, I believe that you mean what you’re saying right now—and I love you for it. But I can’t. I know that someday you’ll change your mind and you’ll resent me for not being able to give you what you want. I have to say no, Jonah. I don’t have a choice.”
His rolled his eyes, but slowly this time, so she could get a nice long look at his frustration. “You do have a choice, Shay. You can choose me back.”
“Jonah, I can’t do that to you.”
“Then do it for me, Shay. I love you. Only you. It’s always been you.”
She gathered what strength she had left and told him, “I love you, too, Jonah. So much. But I’m saying it because I want you to know it, not because it changes anything.”
* * *
OLD JONAH’S GRIN could light a darkened auditorium, Shay thought. She speculated whether it was possible Old Jonah and Attorney Jonah could somehow combine to make her Jonah.
“Oh, yes it does,” he said. Then he wrapped his arms around her and branded the side of her neck with a kiss that seemed to dissolve what little determination she had left.
She rested her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. “But, Jonah, what if...sometimes love isn’t enough? It wasn’t enough for us ten years ago and—”
“That might be true, but in our case it is. Our love is enough. Think about it, Shay. All these years we’ve been so far away from each other and living these pseudo-lives—both of us striving for our own versions of success, trying to fill the emptiness that the other took away...”
“The only thing that could fill that empty space in my heart is you, Jonah.”
He scooped her up in his arms so fast that she let out a yelp of surprise. But when his lips found hers, Shay once again felt that delicious, addicting combination of spark and comfort that only Jonah could provide—along with the irresistible desire to let him back into her heart, and her life, in one fell swoop.
She was breathless when he finally set her down.
“Okay, I have one more card to play.”
“What?”
“Gramps and Doc would be disappointed if I didn’t follow through with the entire plan.”
“Plan?”
Jonah grinned. “Yes, they helped me devise a plan to win you back.” He reached into his sweatshirt pocket and when he pulled his hand out, his fingers were fisted around something. “Here, I have this for you...a bauble.”
Shay laughed. “A what?”
She held out a hand and Jonah placed a small box in her palm. She recognized the tiny carved box immediately. Kella Jakobs carved boxes for all of her best jewelry and although this one looked a little worn, Kella’s work was unmistakable. Shay’s free hand flew over her mouth to stifle a sob. She swallowed it down but tears were clouding her vision. She blinked them away because it was time—finally it was her time—to be happy.
“I ordered this ten years ago on the day of Gary and Ingrid’s reception. I was so happy that day because it felt like the last thing to do before we could get married and officially start our life together. It took Kella a while to make it, so by the time it was ready things between us had already...”
She opened the box and saw a ring nestled in the soft velvet. She removed the gold band and studied the intricate carving decorating its surface. Shay had always adored Kella’s artwork and the idea that Jonah had been thoughtful enough to commission her to create Shay’s wedding band...“It’s beautiful, Jonah. So...perfect. I can’t believe you had this made and then you kept it all these years?”
Jonah smiled proudly. “Not only have I kept it, Shay, I’ve kept it in my pocket.”
Shay stare
d at the ring for several seconds, and then brought her eyes up to meet his. “That day at your gramps’s house—you said something odd...about something and your pocket?”
“That ring has literally worn holes in pockets.”
“No. What?”
“Yep.” He chuckled. “Every single day for nearly ten years that ring has ridden around with me in my pocket and every single night it has sat on the nightstand by my bed.”
“Jonah...” she whispered.
“My way of keeping a piece of us with me always. Do you still believe that I forgot about you, Shay?”
In awe, she shook her head gently.
“No more miles, no more distance between us, okay? That inn of yours is the only faraway I want between us for the rest of our lives. And can we talk about adoption at least? There are a lot of babies that need loving homes.”
Silence. “Shay, say something.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“Attorney-client privilege prevents me from disclosing my true feelings. Or maybe it’s the Fifth Amendment? I’m not sure. I may have to obtain some legal counsel before I can answer.”
He looked happy; his expression both playful and intense.
“Put the ring on, Shay. Put the ring on and then let me take you to Gary and Ingrid’s party tonight so the entire town can see that yes, we are back together. I’ll announce it during my speech and we can save everyone the trouble of having to gossip about it.” He nodded encouragingly.
So she did.
And she let all the love she was feeling, all the love she’d tried to bury for the last ten excruciating years show on her face. She knew he could see it because his lips were already curling up into a satisfied smile, but, strangely enough, those tough-talking, overconfident, attorney lips didn’t bother her nearly as much now that they were headed toward hers.
* * * * *
Look for more SEASONS OF ALASKA romances from author Carol Ross coming in the fall of 2015 in Harlequin Heartwarming!
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ISBN-13: 9781460380130
A Case for Forgiveness
Copyright © 2015 by Carol Ross
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