One Summer

by JoAnn Ross

  “I don’t understand it,” Amanda wailed as she paced a patch in the hardwood floor. “Where could he be? How could he just take off without letting me know where he was going?”

  “He left about a gazillion voice mails on your home phone,” Charity pointed out.

  “Not to apologize,” she sniffed. “But to talk to me in that oh-so-reasonable tone, accusing me of trying him and convicting him on circumstantial evidence.” She wiped the backs of her hands against her wet cheeks, looking for all the world like a heartbroken five-year-old. “Sometimes he talks just like a damn judge.”

  “Maybe because he is a judge,” Charity said, looking over toward Gabe, who’d followed them back to the house.

  “He’s a liar and a cheat and if he isn’t already an adulterer, it’s probably only because I caught him before he had a chance to use that damn Viagra.”

  She was quickly working herself from heartbroken to injured party. Charity had watched this scene play out so many times she could probably write the script in her sleep.

  “You said you didn’t talk to him.”

  “I didn’t.” Amanda took the Kleenex Gabe handed her and gave him a watery smile. “Thank you, darling.”

  He just nodded. Charity suspected that getting involved with anyone else’s personal family problems was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “But he said—”

  “He was in the air,” Amanda broke in. “So I left a message on his cell telling him I’d found the damn blue pills and I was leaving him. And filing for divorce.”

  “You were going to file for divorce without letting him explain?”

  “No. I wanted him to suffer. The way he’d made me suffer. Then grovel.” Gabe handed her another Kleenex. She used it to dab at her eyes. Then stopped pacing in front of him. “You’re a man. Tell me something.”

  He shot Charity a panicky look that suggested he’d rather face down a horde of Taliban armed with AK-47s than be dragged into this conversation.

  “Mother.” Although she doubted it would work, Charity tried for reason. “Gabriel doesn’t even know Benton.”

  “He’s a man,” Amanda repeated on a flare of heat. She put her manicured hands on the hips of a purple gauze sundress. “And we need a man’s point of view right now.”

  “I can’t really speak for all men,” Gabe said. “But I’ll try.”

  “If you loved a woman, truly loved her, and had pledged a vow to love, honor, and cherish her, until death you do part, and then did something to break her heart, wouldn’t you do anything to make amends?”

  For not the first time since he’d come back to the house with Charity and her mother, Gabe wondered what the hell he’d thought he could do about this situation.

  Until death you do part. He’d already tried that, and although neither he nor his ex had died, when he’d first heard those words said, while standing in front of that Marine chaplain in that pretty white chapel at Camp Pendleton, they’d sounded ominously like a death sentence.

  This was so above his pay grade.

  “I think—”

  “I mean,” she overran what he’d been about to say, “wouldn’t you be willing to crawl naked, down the main street of town, over broken glass, if that’s what it took to get the woman you loved back?”

  Gabe dearly hoped the judge—who may or may not have been cheating in Hawaii—wouldn’t be held to that penance when he resurfaced, but understood how Charity’s mother might not be thinking logically at the moment.

  “I’d do whatever it took,” he assured her.

  “See?” The skirt swirled around her still-shapely calves as she spun back to her daughter. “If he really loved me and was innocent, he would’ve been on the first plane back home. Instead of staying down there with his slut bimbo.”

  “You don’t know that’s what he’s doing. I understand how upsetting this is,” Charity said, “but you’re not exactly being fair to him, Mom.”

  “Like he was fair to me?” She tossed her auburn head as anger began to overcome her earlier distress. Gabe wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d stamped a sandal-clad foot.

  He could tell that Charity’s patience was growing thin. In fact, it looked to be hanging by its last thread.

  “Maybe you should call the police,” he suggested.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that,” Amanda said quickly. “He’s a judge. He has a reputation to protect. I may want to kill him, but I certainly wouldn’t want to injure his reputation. Especially since judges have to stand for election in Washington. I’d never forgive myself if I cost him a career he loves.”

  Gabe exchanged a look with Charity that told him they were thinking the same thing. That she might be furious and hurt, but there was still at least a spark of love there.

  “I know some people at MCBH,” he said. “That’s the Marine base in Hawaii. Maybe I can find someone with connections who’ll do some checking without raising flags.”

  “Oh, thank you!” When the older woman flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, Charity rolled her eyes.

  She was clinging like poison ivy. Taking hold of her waist, Gabe put her a little away from him.

  “I can’t promise anything.”

  “I understand.” Even as she nodded, Gabe knew she was expecting him to solve her problem. Charity couldn’t be more dissimilar from her high-maintenance mother if she’d tried. Which, he realized on a sudden burst of insight, she probably had.

  “Why don’t I give you two some mother-daughter time alone while I go back to the motor home and make some calls,” he told them both. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

  “You’re my hero,” Amanda said with a watery smile.

  This time Charity didn’t roll her eyes. Merely mouthed thank you behind her mother’s back.

  She walked him to the door. “I really appreciate this,” she said as they went out on the porch, the mutt trotting along between them, while the ridiculously named Peanut stuck to Charity’s side.

  “Like I told your mother, I can’t promise anything.”

  “I totally understand and I’d be surprised if you do find any information. But you stopped the floodgates, at least for a while. And calmed the storm. Which I’m hugely grateful for.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.

  He put his hands on her waist. “I suppose sex on the front porch is frowned upon in Shelter Bay.”

  She looped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “I suspect Kara would have us in the slammer.”

  “Jailhouse sex.” He tipped her head up and kissed her again. Longer. Deeper.

  “Truly bad,” she said on a laugh even as her lips clung. “And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I like that about you.”

  Gabe had never thought of himself as a greedy man. His wants and needs had been fairly basic. But as restless need pumped through him, he realized he’d been wrong. Because he wanted Charity in every way possible. For as long as possible.

  “I’d better go,” he said even as he imagined her sitting on his lap on one of those white Adirondack chairs, her long legs over the wide wooden armrests.

  “I suppose so.” With a deep sigh that assured him she shared his regret, she backed away and touched a fingertip to his lips. Lips that he knew would still be able to taste her long into the night he figured he was destined to spend alone.

  “I really want to be with you tonight,” she said, revealing that, once again, their thoughts were traveling the same path. “But—”

  She glanced back over her shoulder, into the house.

  “She’s your mother. You need to take care of her.”

  “I know. And hey, that’s so easy to do, in my spare time this evening I might as well cure cancer and achieve world peace.”

  He took hold of her hand, linked their fingers together, and tried not to notice that in this, too, they were a perfect fit.

  “I have faith in you.”
r />   “That makes one of us.” Her smile was quick, wry, and, he thought, a little sad.

  Tenderness. As unaccustomed as he was to the feeling, it took Gabe a moment to recognize it. Another to realize it didn’t terrorize him like he might have expected. It flowed through him like a river, and as much as he wanted her—and he did—right now he wished even more that he could cheer her up.

  “I noticed a thrift store the other day while I was driving around town.”

  “People mostly use it as a recycle place. It does a pretty good business, since conservation’s always been popular here and locals are pretty green-minded.” He could tell she was a little confused by his change in subject. “Why?”

  “Because I thought that maybe tomorrow we can stop by and pick up some cheap dishes.”

  “You need dishes?”

  “I figured you might.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek, pleased as the soft color he’d come to count on bloomed. “I hear throwing china’s a good stress reliever.”

  She laughed at that, as he’d meant her to. “Thanks for the suggestion. I know an even better way to relieve stress, though.”

  The invitation was there. In her sultry tone, her gleaming eyes, the Mona Lisa smile teasing at the corners of her lips.

  “All the more reason for me to get moving and get on with the mission.” Having a goal was actually appealing after all these months of drifting and taking life as it came. “So we can get your mama back with her judge husband. And you back in my bed.”

  “From your lips,” Charity agreed.

  44

  Maybe he couldn’t run away, but Johnny had discovered years ago that running took away some of his frustration and anger. The bitch was that he’d been looking forward to being with Angel again for months. But now he was already dreading the morning when she was going to get on that damn bus that would take her across the mountains to Bend.

  Impatient to get outside, but not wanting to leave the cabin until he heard the steady breathing that assured him she’d fallen asleep, he lay in bed, smelling the smoke drifting beneath the door from that other kid who ignored the no-smoking rule every night. No fan of rules himself, Johnny wasn’t about to turn him in.

  It had taken her an even longer time than usual to finally crash, because she’d rattled on about baking the cupcakes everyone had had for dessert at dinner, and the pictures she’d taken—every single one of ducks floating on the lake—and that goofy-looking little black dog she’d fallen in love with that she wished she could take home with her.

  Yeah. Like that was going to happen. Even if the dog didn’t already belong to the Marine, there was no way a foster kid would be able to keep a pet. The one thing you learned right away was to travel light.

  There was a computer room in the lodge. Kids couldn’t go online, probably because they didn’t want the older boys looking at porn or the girls spending all their time inside talking with Facebook friends, but maybe he could ask the vet if she could look up some shopping places to see if there was a toy stuffed dog that looked kind of like the Marine’s mutt. It wouldn’t be exactly the same thing. But another thing you learned in the system was that life was all about settling for less than you wanted.

  The sky was clear tonight and the moonlight lit up the trail around the lake nearly as clear as day. His running shoes pounded on the needle-covered dirt as he ran and ran and ran, trying to work off the anger and frustration that had been lurking just beneath his skin all day.

  “It fucking isn’t fair,” he muttered as an owl hooted somewhere in the treetops.

  So, who told you life was going to be fair?

  If it weren’t for Angel, he’d just keep on running. Split and hitchhike up to Seattle. He’d heard there were lots of homeless kids who banded together up there. If the state insisted on breaking up his family, he could just make a new one.

  He’d do it. Be gone tomorrow.

  But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave his sister.

  The Marine hadn’t turn out to be as hard-assed as he looked. At least not with the kids. He’d complimented Angel on her ducks, and even suggested she might have a career as a wildlife photographer for National Geographic , which was totally bogus since foster kids were pretty much on a dead-end road, but she’d gotten so excited she’d gone racing off to take more.

  Maybe he’d go ahead and ask the guy about joining the military, after all. What could it hurt?

  He turned a corner, jumping over a log that had fallen across the path, then was forced to pull up short to keep from slamming into a woman who’d suddenly come out from behind some tall trees.

  “Mom?” It had been five years since he’d last seen his mother. This woman’s hair wasn’t the bright yellow blond she’d had then, but the same brown as the deer he’d seen earlier browsing in the bushes near the lodge.

  “Hello, my darling.” She held out her arms.

  Johnny had been dreaming of this day for years. Waiting for it. Even, sometimes, though God didn’t seem to listen to kids like him, praying for it.

  So why did it feel as if his shoes were suddenly bolted to the damn ground?

  “Hi. Uh . . . what are you doing here?”

  “Why, I’ve come to see you, of course.” She slowly lowered her arms, which made him feel guilty. So, what else was new?

  A court-ordered psychologist had once told him that he wore guilt like a ball and chain. He’d never thought of it that way before, but he’d decided maybe the shrink was right. Which hadn’t changed anything. All it had done was give a name to that feeling constantly eating away at his stomach.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “I went to the DHS office in Salem to schedule a meeting with you and your sister, and the woman told me you were away at a camp and I’d have to come back when it was over. So, I went to the library and used their computer to Google the camp.” She held up her hands again, palms up. “So, here I am.”

  “But how did you get here?”

  “Oh, that took a bit more doing.” She smiled with her lips and with her eyes. She looked okay, Johnny thought. A lot better than last time when she’d shown up at his foster home, smelling of alcohol and with fresh needle tracks on her arms. “I got a job with the market in town that supplies the food to the camp. Mostly I stock shelves, but since today’s my day off, I talked one of the drivers into letting me come along to help.”

  “That was . . .” Sneaky? Crazy? “Clever.”

  She winked. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  Apparently his worry showed on his face because she quickly said, “Johnny, it’s just an expression. You don’t have to worry. I’ve been in rehab. I’m all better and I’m on my medication, which keeps me nice and level, and I even put a deposit down on a lovely apartment in Shelter Bay. As soon as you and Angel get out of camp, you’re both going to come live with me, and we’ll finally be a happy family again.”

  Johnny couldn’t remember ever being a happy family. But he also wanted to believe her. “My caseworker didn’t say anything about that.”

  “Oh, you know bureaucracies.” She waved a hand. Her laugh sounded a little too brittle.

  Johnny told himself she was probably just nervous. Hell, he was nervous. Although he’d been waiting for her to get her act straight for what seemed like forever, there was a really big part of him who was still that five-year-old kid with Kool-Aid dripping off his head and shoulders into a Barbie pink birthday cake.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know them real well.”

  He couldn’t quite keep the edge from his voice and worried that he might have hurt her feelings, but she nodded. “Then you know they move about as slow as molasses in January. But don’t you worry, baby.”

  She ran a hand over the top of his head. Her fingers were stained, showing she still smoked. Which he figured made sense. One foster home he’d been in for six months his first year of middle school, the husband had been in AA and smoked like a chimney.

  “By t
he time camp’s over, I’ll have jumped through all their legal hoops and everything will be just hunky-dory.”

  She glanced around, looking a little more nervous. Which sort of made sense. He figured a lot of people were probably afraid to be in the woods alone at night. What they didn’t realize was that the dark could be just as dangerous in your own house.

  “Well, I’d better be getting back before that truck leaves without me. I just wanted to touch base with you and let you know my exciting news.” Her eyes got all shiny, which had his burning with tears he was trying to hold back, too. “I’m so happy.”

  He’d been here so many times before. And each time something had gone so wrong. But that didn’t stop him from putting his arms around her. Which was when he realized that since the last time he’d seen her, he’d grown taller. Taller than her.

  “I love you, baby.” Her voice wavered, reminding him a lot of Angel, when she was trying not to cry.

  “I love you, too, Mom.” It was the total truth.

  She was clinging to him. So tight Johnny was afraid he might suffocate. But he didn’t want to push her away, so he stood there, and instead of feeling as happy as he’d thought he would, as happy as she said she was, Johnny desperately hoped she’d leave before Angel came looking for him.

  He still loved her. He probably always would. But that didn’t mean he trusted her. Not entirely. Not enough to let her near his sister.

  At least not yet.

  “You have to promise not to say anything to Angel,” she said as she finally released him. “I want her to enjoy her time here at camp, and if she knew I was back, she might get it into her pretty head to want to leave early. And that might cause problems with those tight-assed bitches at DHS, who would probably accuse me of breaking the rules.”

  Which she was. The agency instructions had always been very clear from the first. No unsupervised visits.

  He thought about Angel giggling with the closest thing to joy he’d seen in years as she’d shown off her duck pictures. And how she’d had that smudge of flour on her cheek from baking this afternoon. While the image of her happily carrying that black dog around flashed though his mind, Johnny said, “I promise.”