A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE BOXED SET

by Lewis, Laurie

  Every animal seemed to be in the yard, trampling the flowers she’d planted, depositing countless piles of dung, which their hooves stomped onto the walkways and porch. Agnes was in the thick of the chaos, dumping grain as if the entire yard was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  It had been a hard, discouraging day. Tayte needed a moment’s peace, but she knew there would be none. As soon as Agnes saw her granddaughter, her shoulders hunched, her chin jutted forward, and the laser beam of her angry eyes burned into Tayte.

  After counting to ten, Tayte exited the car. “I’m sorry I was gone so long,” she offered in a broken voice. Agnes’s head turned to her granddaughter, and for a moment, Tayte watched the anger shift to concern.

  “I have had to do everything myself! You said you would be gone just a little while.”

  “Something happened that made me late. Besides, you told me you liked being alone.”

  Agnes frowned. “That was before. Before you and Noah came. Things are different now. I am used to having company again. I get lonely now.”

  Tayte wrapped her arms around the proud woman’s stiff frame until it softened. “Let’s go inside and sit, okay? I’m really tired.”

  “But I have to feed the rest of the animals. I had to do it all alone today. Where is Noah? Where were you?”

  “I’ll explain inside. I think you’ve fed everyone plenty.”

  A sigh of gratitude escaped Tayte when Agnes dropped her bucket and followed her into the house. The chaos in the yard proved to be but a prelude to the pandemonium inside the house. Drawers and cupboards appeared to have vomited their contents onto every flat surface. Tayte gasped, placing a shaky hand over her mouth to prevent the fury roiling inside her from spewing out.

  The debris trail led down the hall, climaxing in Agnes’s bedroom where every knickknack, article of clothing, and piece of bedding lay on the floor in a chaotic heap. Agnes stared at the mess and turned to Tayte.

  “Someone stole my lipstick.”

  Tayte’s body knotted. “You tore the entire house apart looking for a lipstick?”

  “It is my favorite shade. You were not here. Noah was gone. There was no one to take me into town to buy another, and now my car keys are gone too. I looked in every drawer, and they are not to be found.”

  Tayte was too angry to reply.

  “Did you hear what I said? Someone is stealing from me. We have a thief. I think it is Sharlz’s son. I never liked him or his mother.”

  Without a word of rebuttal, Tayte spun around and left the house, but the crisis in the yard offered no respite. She spied one of the baby goats Agnes was introducing to the herd. The cat-sized kid paced behind an iron gate, bleating its frustration over not being able to reach what must have appeared to be a dream come true, a smorgasbord of grain yards away. It was so distraught over the piles of corn and mash piled outside the fence that it seemed to forget the open gate on the far side of the barnyard.

  Tayte wondered if she’d been just as foolish.

  Her eyes became blurry as she picked her way through the crowded yard and opened the gate. She tried to reach for the baby, but it offered no thanks to its rescuer as it skittered away to claim its prize. Tayte slumped onto the tattered remains of a soft hay bale and, like the impatient kid, surrendered to her tears.

  The phone buzzed in her pocket. Tyler’s name and face appeared in the screen, and her heart leapt in want of a friendly voice.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Babe. Man I miss you. I have some good news I think you’re going to like.”

  “I could use a little of that right about now.”

  “I have a job. A real job. Not something my old man put together to save face. I applied for a position with the city—in their tourism office. I’m going to make short advertising films to promote Miami. It doesn’t pay much, but I need some professional credentials more than the money. And the best part is I’ll have access to a studio and equipment so I can film some indie projects on the side. Sweet, right?”

  Tayte had to smile. Tyler was Tyler. Self-absorbed but consistent. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  His voice grew more serious. “But are you proud of me? I did this for you.”

  “I am proud of you, but don’t do this for me, Tyler. I can hardly handle my own life. I can’t be responsible for anyone else’s.”

  “There’s a spot there for you too, Tayte. You could be my assistant who handles the print advertising and photography.”

  “I’m not a photographer.”

  “We’ll hire them. I need your eye, your vision. I can be successful at this with your help.”

  More expectations. More pressure. And yet Tayte hesitated for a moment. “Grandma—”

  “You sound overwhelmed, Tayte. I’ve been making inquiries, and I found a beautiful facility for your grandmother here in Miami. She’ll love it. It’s ultra high-end with beautiful gardens the residents can putter around in, and they have a bus and staff that takes them on field trips and shopping. She’d be safe, Tayte, surrounded by friends her own age. You could have it all, be close to Agnes, and still have your old life back. No more farm. No more guilt. No more crisis management.”

  “I can’t afford a place like that.”

  “You don’t have to. My father knows one of the chief investors. The director will accept whatever you can afford to pay.”

  Agnes appeared in the doorway looking for Tayte. “I need to go, Tyler. Grandma needs me. I’ll give all this some thought, okay?” Part of her regretted ending the call.

  She surveyed the farm as she walked toward Agnes. She knew all the animals by name now. The weedless rows of Agnes’s vegetable garden reminded her of the hours she and Noah shared following Agnes’s planting instructions. Her eyes followed the soggy meadow down to the creek where they had fished and picnicked and dreamed. Her eyes burned at the thought that no future memories would include Noah.

  She remembered the mess waiting for her, but her ire was spent. “What’s the matter? Are you hungry?” She laid her arm across Agnes’s shoulder. “What shall we fix tonight?”

  Agnes crinkled her face and stared down the lane. “Where’s Noah?”

  Tayte steered her grandmother into the house. “Shall we start cleaning up the kitchen?”

  “Why is Noah late tonight? When is he coming home?”

  The conversation was inevitable. “I don’t know when he’s coming, Grandma, but when he does it will just be to pick up his things. He’s angry with me. I made a mistake and hurt him, so he’s not going to live here anymore.”

  Agnes’s initial shock quickly turned to humor. “Yes, he will. He loves us. Just light a candle in the window so he’ll know we’ve been waiting for him when he comes.”

  Tayte wished it were that simple. Just before she closed the door Nathaniel’s car pulled into the yard with Noah sitting in the passenger seat.

  “I told you,” Agnes said. With a clap of her hands, she headed for the car. Noah exited and wrapped Agnes up in his strong arms.

  Tayte hung back, aware that only Nathaniel was moving toward her. “How is he?” she asked, glancing Noah’s way.

  “Shaken. Shell-shocked. Everything he thought he knew about his world has changed in a few hours, but I think he’s doing fairly well, considering.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “Your inheritance cleared. I had it deposited to your account, so you can start making plans now.” He handed her the envelope. “There’s also contact information in there for farm help. I’ll still keep checking in on you two, but Noah asked the Chamber of Commerce for some recommendations of young men who could run the tractor and do handiwork. All these fellows come highly recommended.”

  “He really is leaving us.”

  “At least for a while. He’s not leaving easily. It’s killing him.”

  They watched the agonizing interplay between Noah and Agnes.

  “Leaving Grandma is tearing him up.”

  “Noah told me that even with all she�
��s lost to dementia, she still knows more about life than anyone he’s ever met. He said she understood and loved him better than anyone.”

  Tayte fumbled with the envelope and looked at Noah again. “I let him down today. I trusted my instincts, but they were wrong. They’re all I’ve ever been able to count on.”

  “You judged him based on your past experiences with your parents, not on what you know about Noah. It’s time to finally bury the dead, Tayte. You’ve kept the worst parts of them alive. I know because I did the same thing with my father.”

  Tayte watched Agnes’s mouth hang agape as Noah spoke with her. “Where will he go?”

  “His cousin Jared lined up some construction jobs in San Francisco. I’m really proud of how Noah handled things today. I know he reacted badly to you, but he could have ruined so many lives. Especially the Eppleys’. Instead, he let his bitterness go and did what was best for others. He’ll eventually find his happiness and so will you. In my experience, we generally find exactly what we’re looking for.”

  Tayte watched the tender way Noah treated Agnes, smiling at her through shining eyes, his hands always returning to her shoulders to reassure her. Noah took her grandmother by the arm as they entered the house upended by Hurricane Agnes. Nathaniel and Tayte followed, and soon they heard Noah’s rushed breath and a whispered, “Whoa,” as he surveyed the disaster.

  Agnes shrugged the mess off. “Neither of you were here, and I couldn’t find my lipstick.”

  Worry showed in the creases of Noah’s brow as he looked back at Tayte. She waited to see if he would stop and help return order to the house, but with a deep breath, he turned down the hall and climbed the stairs, leaving the others in the disheveled room.

  Tayte replaced the linens in their proper drawers, all the while staring at the empty hall that led to the stairs. Unable to stand the stalemate any longer, she flew up the steps to face Noah. She found him in the bathroom, holding the towel she painted for him.

  He looked up at her, the strain of the day showing in the tight lines pulling at his mouth and eyes. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

  The question frustrated her. Crossing her arms in front, she confronted him. “Why are you doing this? Things aren’t perfect, but they were getting better. Don’t go, Noah. Please stay.”

  His fingers tightened like knots around the fabric. “We’ll still be the same people with the same issues in a month, or a year.”

  “Maybe we’re not the same anymore. Tyler called today, begging me to return to Miami with Agnes. He has a place lined up for her and a job waiting for me.”

  “Good for you.”

  His sarcasm threw her off. “You’re missing the point. Yes, he was offering me my old life back, but when I saw you with Grandma a few minutes ago, I realized I don’t want that life anymore. I want this life. With Grandma and you.”

  Noah remained rigid. “No. I got the point. You considered going back . . . until just a few minutes ago.”

  The comment took her aback. “I was upset.”

  “And what about the next time you get upset? I can’t be with someone who thinks running away is a reasonable option.” Noah pressed a hand to the wall and leaned into it. “You still don’t know if you can be all in or all out, fully here or there. Maybe I pushed you too hard. Maybe we’re both too broken. All I know is, I’m done choosing the self-inflicted pain option, Tayte. You deserve another option too.” He stuffed the towel in his duffel bag, picked up his other bags, and headed for the stairs.

  The sound of boots echoed down the steps, and then the door opened and Noah was gone. Tayte leaned against the doorjamb and listened until she could no longer hear Nathaniel’s engine. When she went downstairs she found Agnes in a chair with her elbows on the table, her hands supporting her chin. She looked like Tayte felt.

  “Noah is gone. He is very upset with you.”

  “I know, Grandma. I’ve hurt him badly.” She sat down beside her grandmother and laid her head on Agnes’s shoulder. “What can I do?”

  “Fix it.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Tell him you’re sorry.”

  “I did. It wasn’t enough.”

  “Sometimes words alone are not enough. You must do something. Sharlz’s son is taking him to the airport tomorrow. That’s very far away. If he goes, you’re going to need a very big candle.”

  An idea popped into Tayte’s head. Maybe it wouldn’t fix everything, but she at least had to try.

  Chapter 32

  Noah checked his phone. Nine a.m. But the heavy haze made it feel like dawn had failed to arrive at the Andersons’. Jared had taken the red-eye back to make an early morning meeting. Since Nathaniel lived in the direction of the airport, the plan called for Noah to drive to Nathaniel’s by 9:45 so the attorney could get him to BWI in time for his flight. Jared would meet him on the other end.

  Fatigue and worry had drained Noah, leaving him too weary to drag himself to bed, so he spent the night in a chair on the porch, fighting the urge to run back to Tayte, to throw caution to the wind and enjoy whatever time they might have before another crisis drew her back into battle stance. But the long term outlook was too grim. After a sleepless wrestle, he decided to stick to his plan, convincing himself that he was running toward something instead of away from Tayte.

  He tossed his bags over the truck gate and looked back at the sprawling, white farmhouse, recounting events, both old and recent, that had left indelible impressions on him, and in truth, shaped him into a man. He wondered if he’d ever see it again, or the ten-acre lot Jared revealed that Uncle John had left Noah in his will. It would have made a fine homestead with room for a woodshop and space for a family to grow. But this community had twice dashed his hopes for a family, and now all farms would remind him of Agnes and Tayte.

  The rumble of an engine and the crunch of tires on the gravel lane caught his attention. Every muscle in his body tensed as he recognized the vehicle that broke over the rise—the Eppleys’ van. Noah groaned at the expectation of more trouble. He just wanted peace.

  Jenna was the first person to exit. She raised a limp hand in a nervous greeting. Noah knew she’d been told the truth, and his stomach tightened as he conjured questions she might ask.

  Ely exited second under his own power and parked his chair beside Jenna, with whom he shared a brief conversation before nudging her forward.

  She looked back three times at her father as she closed the ten-yard gap that separated her from her birth father. Offering a weak wave, she said, “Hi.”

  Noah’s throat closed. He felt he would suffocate. The only muscles he could control formed a weak smile before he coughed and finally said, “Hello, Jenna.”

  It was all so apparent now. Esther’s heart-shaped face, her smile, his eyes and nose. His eyes began to sting, and no matter how hard he blinked he couldn’t stop the burn.

  “Daddy told me who you really are. That you were my father.”

  Were. Noah’s mouth twisted in agony, so he nodded in small, nearly imperceptible nods.

  “Daddy said you weren’t able to take care of me when I was born. You don’t need to be sad or worry about me. You and my mother did the right thing. You gave me a good family. I already have a father, but Dad says it would be okay to have you as my friend, if that’s all right with you.”

  The breadth of Ely’s graciousness was not lost on Noah. He looked for acknowledgement from Ely, who was struggling to hold his own emotions in check. Using every ounce of resolve left in him, Noah managed to choke out, “I would love to be your friend, Jenna.”

  Ely rolled his chair forward and whispered to Jenna, who nodded and returned to the van. Once his daughter was out of earshot, he squared his shoulders, facing Noah unapologetically.

  “This whole situation really shook us up, you know? It was too bizarre to have been just a coincidence. I always sensed that there was something . . . odd . . . special between you and Jenna. Didn’t you?”

  Noah f
elt his shoulders sink even further. He shook his head. “I’ve never been around children. She was kind to me, but I never imagined . . .” His voice broke. “I see it now.”

  Now Ely’s voice caught. “I don’t care how we got her. I love her. She’s my little girl.”

  Noah bit his lip to still its trembling. “Yes, she is.”

  “It took some time, but we see that you were as much a victim in all this as we were. I don’t know if we would have come to that conclusion on our own, but Tayte helped us recognize what this has cost you. We realize you could have . . . you could have really . . .” Ely shook his head and wiped at his eyes. “Thank you for not fighting us on this.”

  Unable to speak, Noah nodded again.

  “Jenna has a lot of questions. Margot and I agreed that the best way to help her was for us to be honest with her.”

  He rolled forward and offered Noah his hand. “I hear you’re going away for a while.”

  The two men shook hands, and Noah replied, “I thought it’d be best for everyone.”

  “There’s no going back now. Jenna wants to know you. She wants you in her life.” Ely swallowed hard. “We need some time by ourselves to process everything . . . to get back on our feet, but after a while, we’d all like to get to know you, so you’re welcome to visit when you return.”

  It was more than Noah dared expect. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Ely smiled. “Besides, we’ve got this great deck that still needs finishing.” Both men managed to laugh, and then Ely sobered. “If you didn’t know about Jenna, why did you do it?”

  Noah shrugged. “I could never do what you did, but I could do this.”

  Ely nodded. “So we’ll see you then, okay?”

  Noah folded his arms and pressed them against his pounding heart and muttered, “Okay.”

  An awkward silence filled the parting moments. Jenna returned and extended her hand to Noah.

  “It’s my school picture. Mom said you could put it in your wallet.”