by Nikki Soarde
“He beat you?” She sounded genuinely surprised.
Tate pointed to his left eye, which was no longer swollen but which bore the grayish-green tint of an old bruise. “Beats. Present tense. A few days ago he got pissed off because we ran out of coffee. Guess whose fault it was.”
She blinked but said nothing.
“But I guess it would have been too much trouble to check up on me, you know, make sure all my limbs were functioning or that I hadn’t died of malnutrition or anything.”
“Tate, you don’t understand. I was in an extremely difficult situation. I trusted Rosie. We were best friends for three years. She was a smart girl and I knew she loved you. I saw no reason to doubt the kind of care you were receiving.”
He peeled his hands off the rail and turned away. “No. Of course, you didn’t. There was no reason at all.” He wasn’t sure how, but he managed to cross to a large armchair that sat in front of the wide picture window. The cushions accepted him willingly—perhaps more willingly than his own mother. The window was open and a soft breeze washed across his cheek. But he found little comfort in its caress.
“Why did you break in, Tate? I think I understand why you waited until I was alone but why not just knock on the front door?”
“Because I was afraid you’d slam it in my face.” He didn’t look at her. “I still think I was right.”
Again there was silence, and Tate was painfully aware that she hadn’t refuted his accusation. She had made no move to get out of bed or approach him. She seemed to have no desire to touch him, or know anything about him. He knew it was pathetic and futile, but he sat there, silently hoping she might surprise him and show that she cared…just a little.
At last she heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I’m sorry for the life that you had. When Rosie took you she was single. I never considered the possibility that she would choose such an unsuitable husband. But even if I had known, what could I have done?”
It was Tate’s turn to answer with silence.
“Why are you here, Tate? What do you want from me?”
He choked back tears that screamed for release. If she didn’t know, then how could he tell her? He wanted everything. He wanted far too much and he wanted so little. He wanted acknowledgment. He wanted a home. He wanted a family. He wanted her to make everything okay again. He didn’t want to go home to that cold, dingy house that reminded him so relentlessly of the mother he had lost and the father he couldn’t escape.
He couldn’t speak all those things, so instead he turned away and looked determinedly out the window. His eyes roamed over the university campus in the distance, dotted with trees and benches. He could even make out a pond that sparkled in the lamplight. He rubbed impatiently at his eyes, and, at last, she spoke.
“I think maybe I know what you’re looking for.”
A ray of hope speared through him and he allowed himself to look at her.
“But I can’t be what you want, Tate.” The ray sputtered and died, leaving only the gaping wound where it had lanced through him. “I can’t be a mother to you. I-I can’t even be a friend. My husband knows nothing about my past. It would be far too awkward and where would it get us, anyway?”
When Tate still didn’t respond she continued her monologue. “Too much time has passed. You’re almost a man. You don’t need me. It would be pointless.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Pointless.”
“I do care about you. When I gave you up I thought I was doing the best thing for you.”
Tate wanted to curse at her for lying to him so blatantly. She had done what was best for her and no one else. A bastard child would have screwed up her noble little life. Wasn’t it convenient that she had a friend who was well acquainted with the ways of the gutter? A bastard would fit right in with her existence. It just made sense. It was so much easier that way. For everyone.
Suddenly his head jerked up. “What about the kid?”
“Kid?”
“Your other son.” He somehow found the strength to stand. “Wouldn’t he like to know that he has a brother?”
“Sam would be devastated if he learned of this.”
“Would he? Or would you be the one getting hurt?”
With that accusation, the wall she had built around herself hardened into solid concrete. “I think you should go now. It was nice to meet you and see that you’ve grown up tall and strong. I’m sorry if you’re life wasn’t perfect, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I did what I could considering the times and the circumstance.” She pulled the bed covers a little closer around her and tugged them up under her chin. “Now I’d like you to leave. As I said, I can’t be what you want. And you have no place here.” He felt himself shrivel under her dispassionate stare. “And please leave Sam out of this.”
* * * * *
Tate stared at his hands folded neatly on his lap before him. “And just like that she dismissed me. She figured a few trite apologies were all she owed me. And she wouldn’t even share her son with me.”
“So you stole him.”
Tate looked sharply at Elsie. “You can’t steal something that’s rightfully yours. He was my brother and she could never change that.”
“I didn’t mean to sound harsh,” soothed Elsie. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get to know him.”
“I eased myself into his life and we got to be friends very quickly. I’d never experienced that before. It was…” He closed his eyes and struggled with the words. “It was an amazing feeling—to connect with someone like that. We had been hanging out together for almost three months before he brought me home for the first time.” He smiled evilly at the memory. “You should have seen her face when I walked in. It was, and still is, one of the finest moments of my life.” Then he lost his smile. “It may have started out as vengeance on her, but pretty soon I figured out that I really liked having a brother. I guess…I guess I fell in love. Maybe for the first time in my life.” His throat felt thick and palms were sweating. To acknowledge these feelings was to acknowledge an entire saga of pain and disappointment.
Now, Elsie stood and stepped up to the bed. She gripped the blanket as if it could anchor her to sanity. “You still speak of him with such affection.” Her voice was shaking with anguish. “You obviously never stopped caring for him. Your wife said it seemed like part of you died right along with him that day.”
“It did. The bullet that hit Sam hurt me more than the one in my own gut. And the moment before Calvin dropped me off that cliff I realized how stupid I had been. I realized what I had given up when I gave up Sam—when I threw him away. But by then it was too late.”
“But if you loved him that much, then why? Why did you turn away from him?”
“Because even on her goddamn deathbed she wouldn’t acknowledge me!” Suddenly, all the pain and rage and grief congealed together inside him. It grew and swelled until the pressure made his head ache.
“She was dying of cancer. Sam had told me so that night we went out drinking and got the stupid dove tattoos.” The words spilled out, tumbling over each other in a cascade of emotion. “I went to see her late one night again, when I knew she was alone. All I wanted was for her to acknowledge that I was her son. I wanted Sam to hear it from her. She had nothing to lose anymore. The doctors had given her a few weeks.” He pounded the bed with a fist that wasn’t nearly strong enough or heavy enough. “And she still wouldn’t do it. She still didn’t approve of my friendship with Sam. We were blood, but all she could see was that we came from different worlds. She didn’t want his world to be tainted by being linked with me.”
Elsie murmured something inaudible and reached for Tate’s hand.
But he ripped it away. “She just about killed me that day. I was dying inside when I left her. I was destined for nothing beyond the gutter. She had said as much. At that moment I decided I had better prove her right. A few weeks later, after I heard that she had died, I went home and started the fight with Dad. I figured�
�I hoped—he’d finally kill me and put me out of my misery. I was hurting so damn much I couldn’t breathe.”
“And Sam saved you.”
“Yes. I hated him for that. I had already cut ties with him because I didn’t deserve him, and then, after he saved me, I decided that I wanted him to hurt as much as I did. He’d never known pain in his life—not my kind of pain. Not the kind that tears you in two and leaves you breathless and raw.” He tore his eyes away from Elsie and noticed that Tanner and Scott were watching him. Softly, he added, “If I could change things I would. Sam didn’t deserve what I put him through and I was an idiot to throw away my only brother.” He felt Elsie’s hand curve around his and this time he allowed it. “But at the time all I could think of was that it was his turn.” He looked back at the woman who had lost almost as much as he had. “It was just his turn.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The Kananaskis Region, Alberta
Marnie hung up the phone and let her eyes wander to the figure that was just visible through the screen door. He sat on the rough planks of the front step, sipping on his evening coffee and watching the sunset. He hadn’t missed one in the two weeks since their arrival. Marnie had taken a short leave of absence from the hospital in order to devote herself completely to Tate and Tanner’s recovery. She had one month left, and already the time seemed too short.
She strolled outside and let the screen door slam shut behind her. She settled down beside him and rested her head on his good shoulder. “It’s not quite as colorful tonight,” she mused as she considered the streaks of gold and lavender that banded the sky and reflected in the lazy waters of the Bow River.
“You should have been here two minutes ago. It can change so quickly. One minute the colors are so bright they almost burn your eyes. You look away and—poof! They’re gone.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she almost cried at the truth in that statement. “Who was that?”
“Susan.”
She felt a slight shift in his muscles as he assimilated that. “What do you and my hostess AKA madam have to talk about?” Tate and Susan had been in frequent contact since she had taken over the reins of the clubs. In the last few days the calls had become less frequent and Marnie could see Tate finally allowing himself to believe that he could let it go. He might go back, but never again in an official capacity. He would go as a friend. Nothing more.
“Oh, many things,” she teased. “You, mostly.”
“Oh?”
“We had a little business to discuss and some details to firm up. But it’s all taken care of now.”
He laughed. “All what? Spill it before I tickle it out of you.”
She looked up and basked in the glow of his happiness. Luke had returned. Or, at least, a piece of him. Tate was allowing himself to savor the good things in life again, her included. And the sheer delight that washed over his face when she allowed a trace of Marnie the Sinful to shine through shot through her like a dagger of satisfaction. Maybe they had finally found their middle ground.
“You don’t have to tickle me,” she said with a grin. “I’ll tell you. But I want you to sit down for this.”
Again his eyes crinkled in silent laughter, and she looked forward to seeing that every day.
“I’m sitting. So are you. So, what is it?”
“When do you think you’ll have enough money to go back to school like you want?”
A mild surprise settled across his features. This was obviously not the direction he had expected this conversation to take. “I don’t know. A couple of years, I guess. If I can get a construction job again like I had figured…” He shrugged as if it was of no consequence.
Of course, he could have had money for his education if he wanted. He hadn’t accepted any money for the clubs. He had sold them to Susan and her “partners” for the princely sum of one dollar. But the sixty thousand dollars that he profited from the sale of the house on Walnut Street would have covered a degree and then some. But Tate had other plans for the money.
“You could still have some of the money back. You know Elsie was completely overwhelmed by the gift. She would love to see you make use of some of it.”
He shook his head and spoke with determination. “No. That money belongs to Sam’s son. And the rest is for Tanner.” The money had been split evenly and placed in education trusts for each of them. “No matter what happens, Tanner’s going to have a future. Both of them are.”
She patted his hand and kissed his cheek. “I knew you’d say that. I told Susan and Louise all about it. And they decided it was time you had a future too.”
Sparkling interest glinted behind his stern façade. “What have you done, Marnie the Sinful?”
“They took up a collection.”
“They what?”
“Don’t get your knickers in a knot. They were happy to do it. All your ‘alumni’ chipped in gladly. You made sacrifices for them, even if you don’t see it that way. And they were thrilled to be able to give a little back out of the riches that they gleaned.”
“Christ,” he muttered. “They know I never expected any kind of repayment.”
“Of course, they do. And that’s exactly why they wanted to do it.”
He gave her a pained look. “Okay. How much?”
“Sixty.”
“Thousand?”
“Yes. And it’s given under the strict condition that it’s for you, and you alone.”
“God, I’ll be in school forever to use that up.”
She just grinned at him. “You have a doctor, a plumber, and a lawyer in your pocket, Tate Barton. Someday they may come in handy.” She felt a twinkle of mischief. “Even your former hostess made a contribution.”
His eyebrows arched. “Susan?”
“Mm-hmm. She insisted.”
He accepted that in silence but Marnie could see the wheels turning as he considered the implications of the gift. Maybe if he was forced into accepting their gratitude, then he might be forced into accepting the fact that his life had value. And that it always had.
She studied him closely. “Who were you trying to save, Tate?”
He turned thoughtful eyes on her. “If you know to ask me that then you already know the answer.”
She remained quiet, silently encouraging him.
“My mother, of course,” he said at last. “Not the one who gave birth to me. She had people to look after her. But Rosie never had anyone who gave a damn. I do believe Jeremiah loved her in his own twisted way, but she never felt loved. Nobody ever made sacrifices for her. Even the woman who called herself a friend abandoned her at the first sign of trouble.”
“Even after Rosie took in Nadine’s illegitimate child.”
He absently kissed the top of Marnie’s head and then rested his chin there. Right where it belonged. “I don’t think it was conscious at first, but when I found Faye, and then later whenever I found another one who was in such desperate need, I saw a little piece of my mother.”
She kissed his shoulder. “You wear your dove well.”
He snorted. “I got the snake after I turned away from Sam. I think I was trying to convince myself…” He shrugged.
A pair of exuberant voices cut through the evening calm. The sound carried across the meadow that stretched between them and the river.
“Daddy! Marnie!”
“Uncle Tate!”
Breathless and glowing from their exertion, Tanner and Scott rushed up to the front step.
“What is it, tigers?” Tate’s face beamed as he regarded the cousins who were little clones of their fathers. Scott was staying with them for a week, until Elsie came to retrieve him. She was anxious to see this mansion in the woods. Marnie harbored a secret hope that she might bring Pete along. He was a good friend, and while Marnie didn’t believe it would ever turn into anything more than that, the two of them together were a joy to be around. Not only that, but Tate could use a few more friends. He needed to be around people who knew where he came f
rom. And what he had become.
“We…” Tanner tried to catch his breath. “We found a whole bunch of frogs!”
“Yeah, they’re all slimy.”
“And green.”
“Can we keep ‘em?” Scott’s grin was infectious.
“Yeah. We were wondering if there’s a jar or something we can put ‘em in.”
“We could put holes in the top and feed ‘em flies and everything.”
“Can we?”
“Please?” The last plea was in unison, as if they had rehearsed the act for full effect.
“Frogs?” said Tate thoughtfully.
“Slimy?” shuddered Marnie.
“Go get the plastic pail from around the back. We’ll be there in a minute.”
The duo rushed off amid shouts and giggles, and Marnie gently helped Tate to his feet.
“I’m not an invalid, you know,” he said testily.
She wrapped her arms around him and gazed up at his face, which reflected the dying fire of the sun. “Maybe I like taking care of you. You ever think of that?”
He brushed away a few strands of hair that the breeze had dislodged from the hair band she had taken to wearing. “Well, you’re going to have your hands full with me and your new son.”
Marnie froze in confusion. “New son?”
“Yes. You are going to adopt him after we get married.”
“Married?” Marnie felt a bit dopey. Or maybe she was drunk on the mountain air and too much sex. She couldn’t possibly have heard him right.
But then he ducked his head and kissed her. Slowly. Thoroughly. Urgently. He enclosed her in a one-armed hug that could have put a grizzly to shame. And when he was finished there was no doubt in her mind but that he had been totally sincere.
The familiar call of the loon echoed across the water—haunting and sweet and intimate.
“It seems you have an advocate,” whispered Marnie once she had regained her breath.
“I bribed him with a half-dozen herring.”
“Herring don’t live in the Bow.”