A Time to Forgive and Promise Forever

by Marta Perry

  He clasped her hand in his, waiting while Dan gave his keys to the valet. “Relax,” he murmured softly, his breath brushing her ear as he bent close to her.

  Was it conceivable that he thought she could relax when every nerve in her body was on edge at his nearness?

  Dan and Sheila led the way through a wrought-iron archway, and they followed the hostess across a cobblestone patio surrounded by gaslights on black iron posts. The lights flickered on boxwood hedges and white tablecloths. String music from some hidden source muted the echo of conversation.

  Magical, she thought as they reached a table set for four.

  Tyler pulled out her chair. When she sat down, his fingers caressed her shoulders as lightly as the aroma of the flowers caressed her senses. The bowl of camellias in the center of the table seemed to waver for a moment.

  “Good choice.” Tyler sat next to her, glancing across the linen-covered table at Dan. “You know how to pick a restaurant.”

  Sheila looked around with satisfaction. “We thought you’d like it. They’re known for doing great things with local fare like shrimp and black-eyed peas, so be sure you try something unique to Charleston.”

  The conversation moved to food, giving Miranda a respite to catch her breath and try to slow her tumultuous pulse. What was Tyler up to?

  The touches, the sultry glances—they weren’t accidental. It was as if he’d set out tonight to remind her of what they’d once had.

  She slanted a look at him from behind the protective cover of the menu, and her heart trembled. She didn’t need reminders. All she had to do was look at him, and she saw again the husband she’d never stopped loving.

  The strong bones of his face were more pronounced, and there were fine lines around his eyes that spoke of the stress of the past years. But one thing hadn’t changed—the way her heart stopped when he smiled at her.

  “What do you think?” Tyler lowered his menu. “Sullivan Island crab cakes for a starter, followed by pecan-crusted fried shrimp with apricot chutney?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she said, trying for normalcy. “I’ve never met a fried shrimp I didn’t like.”

  “That’s it, then.” Tyler closed the menu. “We think alike tonight.”

  He gave her a small, private smile, as if the two of them shared a secret.

  Her heart swelled with love. Hopeless, to try to keep her feelings a secret. Her love for Tyler must be shining in her eyes for everyone to see.

  This was the way he’d once imagined their lives would be, Tyler realized as they drove to the house after the concert.

  He glanced at Miranda, seated next to him in the back seat of Dan’s car. He’d pictured them doing this sort of thing, had envisioned Miranda looking elegant, beautiful and perfectly at ease. Pictured them coming home to their own house with their children asleep in their beds.

  It was too late now to think about what might have been once upon a time. He had to concentrate on the present, and the present included a Miranda who’d fit in perfectly and had seemed to enjoy the evening.

  At the moment she continued a lively conversation with Sheila about the community’s youth center. Apparently the volunteer work she did at the center in Beaufort was similar to what Sheila did in Charleston, and the two of them had been exchanging war stories.

  He captured her hand where it lay between them on the leather seat. Her fingers curled around his, and he thought she nearly tripped over a word.

  This was working—he was sure of it. Miranda had begun to see that she could function perfectly well in the world he moved in. It would be a small step from that to convincing her that a marital partnership was best for all of them.

  “Here we are.” Dan pulled into the converted carriage house that served as his garage. “We’ll walk in through the garden. Sheila’s done a wonderful job with it.”

  “You’re only saying that because you know it’s true,” Sheila teased.

  Tyler kept Miranda’s hand securely enclosed in his as they went through a gate in the brick wall that rimmed the back and side of the enclosed garden. He heard her breath catch as they stepped into the garden.

  He could understand her response. Tiny white lights, hidden in the shrubbery, picked out the gleam of a camellia here, the blush of an azalea blossom there. Lights illuminated the fountain, making the water glitter like crystal.

  “It is perfectly lovely, Sheila.” Miranda’s voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb the night. “I can’t imagine anything more charming.”

  “Well, now, y’all just stay out here and enjoy it for a bit.” She grasped Dan’s arm and whisked him toward the door. “We’ll go up and make sure those boys are asleep, and we’ll leave the door unlatched for you. Stay as long as you want.”

  The door closed behind them, cutting off Dan’s surprised comment.

  “Sheila’s being tactful.” He guided Miranda toward a wrought-iron bench that faced the fountain. “She’s giving us a chance to be alone.”

  “I don’t think…that is, we’ve been alone plenty of times.” She rushed the words, as if tension danced along her nerves, and sat down abruptly.

  “Not in such a romantic setting.” He sat next to her, stretching his arm along the seat behind her and letting his hand cup her shoulder.

  She sat very straight. “It sounded as if you and Dan were talking business at the intermission.”

  Obviously Miranda didn’t want to discuss how romantic the setting was, though he suspected she couldn’t ignore the heavy scent of flowers that perfumed the air. But if it made her feel more comfortable, they’d talk business.

  “Dan has ideas about our acquiring some other companies in the southeast. I guess he thought this evening was his best chance to air them.”

  “Are they good ideas?” She sounded relieved that she’d successfully turned the conversation.

  “Fairly good.” He tilted his head, staring absently at the spray of water glistening in the light as he considered. “Maybe a little too ambitious for us right now. We have the other deal I told you about pending.”

  “So you don’t intend to go along with his suggestions?” She made it a question.

  “He’s a good man with a lot of talent,” he said slowly.

  Funny. He wasn’t used to discussing the decisions he made with anyone. That wasn’t his style.

  But Miranda had her gaze fixed on his face as if this was the most natural thing in the world, and at the moment, it seemed so.

  “You don’t want to discourage him,” she said.

  “That’s exactly right. Maybe his idea isn’t best for us at the moment, but I’d never want to dampen his ingenuity.” He drew her a little closer. “You’d make a good manager.”

  “That comes of being a middle child in a big family,” she said lightly. “You learn to manage people or you fight all the time.”

  “And you don’t like to fight.”

  “I’m not good at it.” She sobered suddenly. “Maybe if—”

  “Maybe if what?” He wanted to know what had set that frown between her brows.

  She gave him a solemn look that was very like Sammy’s. “Maybe if I’d been better at fighting, things would have worked out better between us.”

  He was startled, not so much at the truth of the statement but that she knew both of them well enough to say it to him. “You ran away instead.”

  “And you didn’t chase me.”

  He caressed the smooth skin of her shoulder. “I should have. I wasn’t smart enough to understand what was happening.”

  Did he understand what was happening now?

  The question annoyed him. Of course he did. He was showing Miranda that they had a chance to put their lives together again, the way they should be. They could have a marriage based on common interests and mutual respect.

  Somehow the moonlit garden didn’t seem the right place to be thinking about common interests. And the sensations he felt at having Miranda in the circle of his arm didn’t have
anything to do with mutual respect.

  “We were too young.” She said the words softly, mournfully, as if grieving for someone who’d died.

  We’re not too young now.

  The words hovered on his lips, ready to be spoken, but something held him back. He didn’t want to embark on a discussion of the businesslike marriage he envisioned, not here in the moonlight, not in someone else’s garden with Dan and Sheila inside wondering what they were doing.

  “It doesn’t matter now.” He turned her face toward him, hand cradling her cheek. “There’s no point in dwelling on the past.”

  His thumb brushed her lips, and he felt them tremble.

  “There is a point.” Her lashes swept down, then up, unveiling the troubled expression in her eyes. “If you can’t forgive me for not telling you about our son, it matters quite a lot.”

  Her words arrowed straight into his heart and lodged there. “Is that what you think? That I’m still angry with you?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No!” Suddenly it seemed the most important thing in the world that she believe him. “I was angry at first, but I understand now. Even if I didn’t understand, I couldn’t have gone on being angry when I saw how much you love our son.”

  A tear spilled over, glistening on her cheek until he wiped it away with his fingertip.

  “Thank you, Tyler. I’m glad.”

  The soft words, the perfumed air, the warm familiar body next to him wiped away whatever armor he had left against her. He ought to tell her, ought to explain his plans for their future, but all of that was swamped in the need to have her in his arms.

  He lowered his head, and his lips found hers. He pulled her close against him.

  Miranda settled into his arms as if she’d never left them. Her mouth was warm and sweet and alive against his, and he never intended to let her get away from him again.

  This is going to work. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and felt her arms clasp him tightly. He’d find the right time, he’d explain it all to her, and Miranda would understand.

  The fact that they still had such a powerful attraction to each other—well, that made it all the better, didn’t it?

  Miranda could only wish she knew where they were going. She looked out the car window the next afternoon, watching the thick pine forest slide past. Geographically they were on their way to Caldwell Island. But emotionally where were they headed?

  She slid a sideways glance at Tyler. He looked simultaneously relaxed and in control when he drove, as if the mechanical actions freed him from some internal tension that was otherwise present.

  He caught her glance and smiled, and her heart turned over in her chest. Well, her emotions certainly weren’t in question.

  But Tyler’s remained a mystery. Even in the turbulent wake of last night’s kisses, she wasn’t sure of him. The only thing she was sure of, as a result of this weekend, was that she’d faced something she feared and come out okay. Gran had been right, it seemed. She’d grown up.

  “Is Sammy still sleeping?” he murmured.

  She glanced to the back seat, where Sammy leaned against his seat belt, eyes closed. She nodded. “Those two boys must have stayed up late last night playing.”

  “Guess so. They both looked as if they had a hard time staying awake in church this morning.”

  She’d been a little surprised when Dan and Sheila had taken it for granted that they’d attend church together. She’d been more surprised when Tyler had agreed without a murmur.

  The huge antebellum brick church with its magnificent pulpit and professional choir had been quite a contrast to St. Andrew’s, but she’d felt at home there. The message had been just as clear, just as loving as any she’d ever heard.

  “I liked the service,” she ventured, wondering what he was thinking. “It was nice of Dan and Sheila to invite us to go with them.”

  He nodded, frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sermon before on Joseph and his brothers. Or on brothers at all, for that matter.”

  Was he thinking about his relationship with his brother? She couldn’t be sure, but she felt compelled to keep him talking.

  “The pastor did have a good point. The deepest hurt as well as the deepest love happens in families.”

  “Maybe so.”

  Tyler sounded noncommittal, and it pained her. Could anything ever repair the damage his family had done to him?

  She’d be kidding herself if she imagined she might be able to do that. Perhaps his love for Sammy would be enough to heal his pain, as it had once healed hers.

  “I’ve always liked the story of Joseph.” She didn’t want to let him lapse into silence. “The verse about the brothers intending what happened for evil but God intending it for good—that speaks to me. I guess I need to know that God can bring good out of even the worst of circumstances.”

  For a moment she thought he wouldn’t respond. Then he glanced across at her with a slight smile.

  “Your faith must be contagious, you know that? I’ve thought more about what I believe in the last couple of weeks than I have in a lot of years.”

  “Coming to any conclusions?” She held her breath, wanting to encourage, not wanting to push.

  “Only that I need to do some more thinking.”

  She smiled, glancing at Sammy as he stirred and pushed himself upright. “That’s a good start, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe so.” He looked at Sammy in the rearview mirror. “Hey, sleepyhead. We’re almost home.”

  Sammy blinked and stretched. “I’m glad we went to Charleston. I had a good time, didn’t you, Momma?”

  “I sure did.” Possibly the best part had been the past few minutes. They swept onto the bridge, and as the island came into view, a prayer formed in her heart.

  He’s questioning, Lord. Please, draw him back to You for his answers. He’ll be a better man and a better father when he grows to know You.

  Whether anything could restore the love Tyler had once felt for her, she didn’t know. She did know that restoring his relationship with God was the best thing that could happen to him.

  They pulled into the driveway at the inn, and Tyler’s cell phone began to ring. Well, they’d had a little time without business. He couldn’t seem to get away from it entirely, even on a Sunday.

  He put the phone to his ear, taking on what she always thought of as his business expression—absorbed, grave, intent.

  She glanced at Sammy. “Grab your bag before you run inside, okay?”

  He nodded, then slid quickly out, duffel bag in hand. He looked eager to tell the whole family about his big weekend. She started to follow him, intending to let Tyler take his call in peace.

  Tyler caught her arm to stop her, tension communicated through the pressure of his fingers. The monosyllables of his conversation didn’t tell her anything, but apprehension slid through her.

  Finally he disconnected the call, still frowning.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Unpleasant possibilities chased each other through her mind like black clouds before a storm.

  Tyler focused on her, his eyes very dark. “That was the private investigator I hired to find the man who took the picture of Sammy.”

  Her heart thudded uncomfortably. Whatever the answer was to that mystery, it was bound to create still more questions, maybe more problems. But they couldn’t hide from it.

  “Did he learn anything?”

  “It turns out your mysterious bird-watcher was a bit more than that.” Tyler looked angry and perplexed. “He was a private investigator himself.”

  She stared at him blankly. “A private investigator?” She could only echo his words, trying to get her mind around the concept. “But what— I don’t understand. Does that mean someone actually hired him to come here and spy on us? On Sammy?”

  “Unless you believe in a huge string of coincidences, that’s the most likely thing.” Tyler slammed the palm of his hand on the steering wheel. “If I could
get my hands on him—”

  “Don’t, Tyler, don’t.” Some corner of her heart mourned the disappearance of the peace and hope she’d been feeling since those moments in the moonlit garden the night before.

  “Don’t what?” He bit off the words.

  “I know it’s upsetting, but you’ve got to let the professionals handle it.”

  He glared for a moment, then gave her a wry smile. “I’ve always said you should hire the best person for a job and then stay out of the way and let them do it. But in this case—”

  “In this case it’s too personal,” she finished for him. “But we don’t really have a choice, do we?”

  “No. No matter how much I might want to rampage around Charleston looking for answers, you’re right.” He clenched his jaw. “He says he should know the rest of it in a day or two.”

  Apprehension seemed to dig a hole in her heart. “What do you plan to do then?”

  “Once I know who’s been interfering in our lives, I’ll know what to do.” His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “Whoever he is, he’ll be called to account. He’s going to regret doing anything to my son.”

  Tyler seemed to turn inward, his expression bleak. It was almost as if he’d forgotten she was there.

  She ought to be glad one piece of the mystery that surrounded the photograph would be unraveled soon. She shouldn’t be thinking about how it was going to affect her relationship with Tyler. But she couldn’t seem to help it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tyler frowned at himself in the bedroom mirror the next morning, then transferred the frown to his cell phone, lying atop the dresser. It was probably irrational, but he’d somehow expected to hear from the private investigator this morning. For the amount of money he was paying the firm, he should see faster results than this.

  Miranda’s face, her eyes troubled, rose in his mind. She’d been as upset as he at learning that someone had apparently hired a private investigator to look into Sammy’s parentage. Probably it had hit her harder because in her safe, peaceful little world things like that didn’t happen.

  If he persuaded her to marry him again, she’d have to learn to expect the unexpected. He knew as well as anyone that the prospect of large amounts of money brought out the worst in most people. There would be money at the bottom of this business with the photograph. He was sure of it.