A Father For Zach (14 page)

But the viciousness of her retaliation boggled his mind. From what she’d learned about him from searching the Internet, she’d known exactly how to make him pay for his offense. With his record, the police would not only consider him the prime suspect in the supposed theft, they’d
assume
he’d taken it.

Nathan’s shock gave way to escalating anger. But before it swelled to fury, a far stronger emotion elbowed it aside.

Terror.

Given his record, this woman could make his life miserable. Maybe even get him sent back to prison.

A wave of nausea swept over him, and he started to shake.

Twin grooves appeared on J.C.’s brow. Stepping close, he grasped Nathan’s upper arms in a firm, steadying grip. “Take a deep breath.”

He tried. But his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. “I didn’t…steal it, J.C.”

“I believe you.”

“No one else will. J.C., I can’t go back to prison.” He choked out the words. The mere thought of being confined again in a cage was enough to take the stiffening out of his legs. “I can’t!”

“Don’t worry about that, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

Pulling him into a bear hug, J.C. held on tight. Just as Catherine had done with Zach after his accident.

But as Nathan had told Catherine once, no matter how hard you try to protect the ones you love, you don’t always succeed. In the end, you have to put them in God’s hands.

And his instincts told him that in this situation, it might take God to put things right.

From her spot in the breezeway, Catherine shivered as she watched the scene playing out in her front yard.

Something was very wrong.

Uncertainty gnawing at her, she wrapped her arms around herself and debated her options. Should she leave the two men alone, stay out of an exchange that might be none of her business? Or should she
make
it her business because she cared about Nathan and it was obvious he needed support—and perhaps comfort?

In the end, J.C.’s bear hug gave her the impetus to get involved. Even from a distance, she could tell it was the kind of gesture reserved for grave emergencies.

Checking on Zach, who’d wandered into the empty guest room where Nathan had been working, she pushed through the door and headed in their direction.

Nathan’s back was to her as she approached, but J.C. saw her coming. With a quiet word to his brother, followed by one more strong squeeze, he backed off a couple of steps.

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to intrude.” She stopped a few feet away. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying from the house, but it looked serious and I wondered if…is there anything I can do to help?”

Nathan lifted his arm and brushed the sleeve of his T-shirt across his eyes before he turned to her.

The devastation on his face drove the breath from her lungs, and she took an involuntary step forward as panic gripped her heart. “Nathan…what’s wrong?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the dirt beneath his feet. “The woman I was working for yesterday afternoon reported a stolen diamond bracelet. She said I was the only stranger in the house since she’d last seen it.”

Shock reverberated through her as the implications registered. “Is she accusing you of taking it?”

“Not directly.” J.C. spoke up.

Confused, she looked at him. “Are you arresting him?”

“No. I’m investigating.”

“Look, J.C., you can search my cottage if you want to,” Nathan interjected, his voice shaking. “Whatever it takes. Just tell me the best way to…”

“Hey, Nathan!” Zach banged through the screen door in the breezeway and bounded toward them. “How come this is in your toolbox?”

Dangling from his hand was a diamond tennis bracelet.

Catherine felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

For a long moment, the silence was broken only by a distant, ominous rumble of thunder. Then J.C. stepped forward. “Let me take a look at that, son. I’m Nathan’s brother.”

His voice was taut as the strings on her violin. And the word
solemn
didn’t do justice to the gravity of his expression. Catherine suppressed another shiver.

But it was Nathan who drew her attention. All the color had drained from his face, leaving shock and disbelief in its place.

J.C. lowered himself to Zach’s level and inspected the bracelet in the youngster’s hand. Then he pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket and held it out. “Drop it in here for me, okay?”

After her son complied, he moved beside her, suddenly subdued. No surprise there. The tense vibes surrounding the little group huddled on the lawn were almost palpable.

Moving back to Nathan, J.C. held up the bag. “Any idea how this got there?”

“I can guess.”

“Okay.”

“Danielle Price put it in there when I went to clean my paintbrush.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nathan shot Zach a quick glance. “Let’s just say she had another—more personal—job in mind for me. I wasn’t interested. She wasn’t happy.” His carefully chosen words were terse. Clipped. “She also knows about…where I was before I came here. Courtesy of Google.”

More silence.

“Mom?”

At the tentative question and the tug on her shirt, Catherine shifted her attention to Zach.

“What’s wrong? Why is everybody mad?” His voice came out small and uncertain.

“We’re not mad, honey. We’re…concerned about something that got lost.”

“Like the money in the envelope you were looking for yesterday?”

At Zach’s comment, both men jerked their heads her direction.

“What money?” J.C. demanded.

Catherine’s gaze flicked to Nathan. “I…uh…got some cash from the ATM and I…can’t find it.”

She knew this new information wasn’t going to help Nathan’s case. The coincidence was enough to instill doubt in anyone.

Including her…much to her disgust.

She tried to suppress it. Tried to erect barriers against it. But it was as insidious and relentless as the tide. Uncertainty crept into her consciousness—and her eyes.

And she knew the instant Nathan discerned it.

What little color was left in his face vanished, and his own eyes grew bleak.

Catherine wanted to cry.

In his moment of trial, when he’d most needed the people he cared about to support him—and believe in him—she’d let him down as badly as if she’d come right out and accused him of stealing.

“I’m heading back to the station.” J.C. pocketed the bracelet, ignoring the dynamics between her and his brother. “I’m going to ask one of the other detectives to pay a visit to the Prices’ and have a little talk with the lady of the house. Leave your cell on, okay?”

Breaking eye contact with her at last, Nathan focused on J.C. “Okay. Look…do you need me to go in with you?”

There was a mixture of dread and fear in his voice, and Catherine’s heart ached for him.

“No. I know how to reach you.” His mouth thinned and his voice grew hard. “We’re not going to let her get away with this, Nathan. It’s all circumstantial evidence.”

“That may be all it takes for someone like me.” There was quiet anguish in his tone. And defeat.

“Hey…” J.C. laid a hand on his shoulder, his tone firm. “Don’t give up. We’re going to beat this.”

“I hope so.”

“Count on it.” Giving his brother’s shoulder a squeeze, J.C. nodded toward her and walked toward his car.

They watched in silence as he slid in. Started the engine. Put the car in gear.

Nathan didn’t speak until his brother was nothing more than a cloud of dust in the road.

“I need to go, too, Catherine.”

“No.” She took a step toward him. “Please stay. I’m sorry for…” Her words trailed off.

“Doubting me?” He attempted to smile, but the twist of his lips didn’t even come close. “I don’t know why I expected more. I’m an ex-con. But for the record, I didn’t take your money.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

She deserved that. Nevertheless, his words ripped a hole in her heart.

Before she could think of a response, he moved toward his bike.

“Are you leaving, Nathan?”

Zach’s question stopped him. Angling toward the little boy, a fresh wave of pain swept across his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”

“What about our party?”

“I’m not real hungry for cake right now. You and your mom have the party without me, okay?”

“It won’t be the same.”

“I’m sorry, Zach. I can’t stay.”

His voice rasped, and all at once Zach pulled from her grasp and ran toward him. Nathan knelt to meet him, wrapping him in a bear hug as his shattered gaze connected with hers. There was a world of hurt in his eyes. Of betrayal. And an infinite sadness that told her the precious thing that had been within her grasp might be gone forever.

The hole in her heart widened. She felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes, in her throat, and a feeling of desperation swept over her. She couldn’t let him leave like this.

Taking a step forward, she held out her hand in an imploring gesture. “Please, Nathan. I…”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Let it go, Catherine.”

It’s too late.

He didn’t say the words, but she saw the message in his eyes. Although she tried to stop it, a tear spilled over her lashes and trailed down her cheek.

Nathan’s features contorted as he watched her, as if he, too, was fighting back tears. For one brief instant, she thought he was going to relent and forgive her. That he was going to draw her into the circle of his arms with Zach and hold her close.

But he didn’t. Instead, he looked away. Then, with one final squeeze for Zach, he released her son and mounted his bike. And as he set off down the road, the gray clouds gathering above snuffed out the sun, leaving the world in shadows.

Reminding Catherine of the terrible truth of Zach’s words.

It wouldn’t be the same without Nathan.

H
ow could things have gone so wrong so quickly?

This morning he’d been on top of the world, looking forward to a future that seemed bright and promising.

Now he was facing the very real possibility of more time behind bars.

Leaning forward in the pew he’d occupied every Sunday since he’d arrived on Nantucket, Nathan rested his elbows on his knees, dropped his head into his hands…and fought back the urge to throw up.

Though that would be a fitting conclusion to his miserable day.

Danielle Price’s insinuation that he’d stolen her bracelet had been bad enough. That alone had sent raw terror drumming through his veins. After the past eight weeks of freedom, the mere
prospect
of returning to prison was sufficient to cut him off at the knees.

But the doubt in Catherine’s eyes had been worse.

He massaged his brow, trying to knead away the ache pounding in his temples. As lethally as a sharp knife could
slice through a carotid artery and sever the flow of blood that kept a body alive, her lack of trust in him had severed the emotional connection between them that had given his soul—and his heart—new life over these past few weeks.

How could she have any misgivings about his honesty, after all the hours they’d spent together and the closeness that had developed between them? How could she turn away from him after the secrets he’d shared with her about his past—and his hopes for the future? How could she mistrust him after she’d taken refuge in the shelter of his arms?

Her reaction had blindsided him. Left him reeling.

And raised another agonizing question.

If she couldn’t believe in him in light of the view he’d given her into his soul, how could he ever expect anyone else to give him the benefit of the doubt? To have faith in him?

The answer was as simple as it was depressing.

He couldn’t.

It was time to face the truth. His dream of escaping his past, of starting over, of building a new life, had been only that. A dream. The stigma of his mistakes would haunt him forever.

Nathan had no idea how long he sat in the Lord’s house, seeking consolation and guidance. But the comfort he usually found in prayer eluded him. His soul felt as dry and parched as the prison toast he’d choked down for ten long years.

Rising at last, he trudged to the door and stepped outside, pausing on the small porch. The dark clouds had rolled in, and heavy rain had begun to fall. Yet above the clouds, out of sight, he knew the sun continued to shine.

Faith was like that, he reminded himself as he raised his face to the heavens. Even during life’s darkest, stormiest challenges, the Lord’s love and grace remained steady and strong. They might not always be apparent. Sometimes they
might seem absent altogether. Like today. But he believed they were there. With every fiber of his being, he believed.

So he’d hit a rough patch. Hadn’t he told Catherine not long ago that at some point, after you’ve done everything possible to bring about a certain result, you have to put it in God’s hands?

He needed to follow his own advice.

He needed to give it to God.

And it wasn’t as if he was facing this crisis alone, he reminded himself, watching the rain pummel the ground around him. There were people on his side who believed in him. J.C., for one. His brother had gone out on a limb for him today. First, by convincing his boss to let him handle the initial inquiry. And second, by letting him walk away after the bracelet turned up in his toolbox.

J.C. could have hauled him in to the station. Probably
should
have hauled him in. Instead, he’d put himself on the line, bought Nathan some breathing space. Because he didn’t believe his brother was a thief—despite blatant evidence to the contrary. It was yet another example of the kind of rock-solid love J.C. had always shown for him.

No matter what happened, Nathan took some measure of comfort and consolation in knowing he could rely on that love. Both J.C. and Marci would stand by him. Catherine might harbor doubts, but his siblings never would.

And hard as it was to swallow, he supposed it was better to discover Catherine’s lack of confidence in him now rather than later. What if things had progressed, gotten serious, and he’d…

The jarring ring of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and his pulse skyrocketed. Hands shaking, he
fumbled as he extracted it from his pocket and tapped the talk button. “Hello.”

“Nathan, it’s J.C. Where are you?”

His heart began to pound, and he gripped the railing around the porch. “I stopped in at church.”
Please, God, let there be some good news!

“Then you might want to say a prayer of thanks. Because you’re off the hook.”

Closing his eyes, he lowered himself to the wooden floor and propped his back against the wall. Sucked in a lungful of air. Blinked away the moisture pooling beneath his eyelids. Tried to stop shaking.

“Nathan? Are you there?”

“Yeah.” His ragged response was a mere whisper, more breath than word.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this. Danielle Price is the one who ought to be locked up.” There was steel in J.C.’s voice, and leashed anger nipped at his words.

“What happened?”

“When I got back to the station, I met with the other detectives and gave them my take on the situation. One of the guys, a former NYPD cop, took the bracelet and went out to the Price house to do a little digging. Luckily, the woman’s husband was just getting back from a fishing excursion. He didn’t even know she’d called the police about the alleged theft. And he wasn’t happy about it. My colleague had a ringside seat to the little domestic fracas that followed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Turns out your client pulled this stunt once before. With a gardener at their mainland home. So, faced with her husband’s ire—and the potential loss of her sugar daddy—she backpedaled faster than a crook caught with the goods.
She changed her story and said she had forgotten she was wearing the bracelet while you were there. Claims it has a faulty catch and that it must have fallen into the box when she handed you a tool.”

“That’s pretty lame.”

“Tell me about it. And according to my colleague, her husband agreed, even though she tried every trick in the book to placate him. They were still battling it out when he left.”

As relief surged through Nathan, his shaking intensified. He had to tighten his grip on the phone to keep it from slipping through his fingers. “Thanks, J.C.”

“It didn’t take much detective work to figure out her story stank as badly as a three-day-old flounder.”

“Maybe not. But with my record, any other cop would have hauled me in first and asked questions later.” The thought turned his stomach. Again. “If you hadn’t been around…” His voice trailed off.

“That was a lucky break, no question about it.”

“I think it was more than luck.”

“You won’t get any argument from me on that. So what are your plans for the rest of the day? You want to meet me for lunch? My treat.”

Nathan didn’t think his queasy stomach would welcome food any time in the near future.

“I appreciate the offer, J.C. But I think I’m going to go back to the cottage and chill for a while. If the weather clears later, I might head out to the beach and paint.”

“Sounds like a plan. And listen, Nathan…don’t let this get you down. One vindictive woman isn’t worth losing sleep over. You’ve got a good future ahead of you. Put this incident behind you and move on.”

“Yeah.”
Easier said than done
.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Thanks again.”

As Nathan pocketed his phone, a ray of sun managed to break through the clouds in the distance, suggesting Mother Nature might redeem herself by salvaging what was left of this holiday weekend Friday.

The shaft of light, which imbued the newly cleansed world with a golden glow, dovetailed nicely with the favorable turn of events in his life, Nathan reflected. His name had been cleared. J.C. had come through for him again. He might even be able to get in a little painting today after all.

Only one thing was missing from that happy picture.

Catherine’s faith in him.

And that cast a pall over the otherwise good news brightening his day.

Deciding to wait out the storm—and determined to focus on the positives—Nathan once more entered the quiet church and slid into a pew near the rear. This day could have turned out very differently, he knew. But for his brother’s trust in him, he might very well be behind bars right now.

A shudder ran through.

“Thank you, Lord.” He whispered the words, focusing on the cross in the sanctuary that symbolized the selfless love that had redeemed a world. That represented a man betrayed, who nevertheless continued to love—and forgive.

Give me compassion, too, Lord,
Nathan prayed in silence.
Grant me empathy and understanding for Catherine, whose past has colored her perceptions. Please heal the ache in the part of my heart she awakened…and claimed as her own. Help me get past my hurt. And if
there’s a way to salvage the relationship we were starting to build, please open my heart to Your guidance so that I don’t miss out on the chance of a lifetime
.

“Eat your lunch, Zach.”

Picking up the cooling grilled-cheese sandwich on the plate in front of him, Zach played with the crust. “I’m not hungry.”

She wasn’t, either. Nevertheless, Catherine took a sip of her tepid soup. If it hadn’t been for Zach, she would have skipped lunch altogether. But her son needed to eat.

“Come on…try a few bites.”

He tore off a piece of crust. Crumbled it between his fingers. “Are you sure Nathan isn’t going to come back later, for our party?”

Yes, she was sure. She’d seen the look of betrayal in his eyes when he’d detected her doubt. In that brief meeting of gazes, she’d failed him—and perhaps irreparably hurt their budding romance. Love required absolute trust, and she hadn’t given him that. Far from it.

And after everything they’d shared, he’d deserved better from her.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to repair the damage. A simple
I’m sorry
just didn’t cut it.

“Mom?”

At Zach’s prompt, she rose and carried her bowl of soup to the counter. “No, honey, he’s not coming back today.”

Or maybe ever.

Her heart plummeted at that very real possibility.

“Is he mad at us?”

She’d been fielding her son’s litany of questions ever
since Nathan pedaled away two hours ago. But none of her answers had satisfied him.

Nor had they satisfied her.

“No, Zach, he’s not mad at us. He just had some things to think about.”

She sat back down at the table and took his hand in hers, recalling how she’d marveled over every one of his perfect fingers the first time she’d held him in her arms. How she’d felt on top of the world. Invincible. Filled with joy—and confident about the future for her and David and their new son.

As she’d discovered, however, there were few perfect moments like that one. Mostly, life was a series of challenges. Of accepting imperfections and mistakes, adjusting to losses, overcoming obstacles. Of keeping the flame of hope alive even on the darkest days.

She hadn’t always done a good job with any of those things. Not half as good as Nathan had. Despite horrendous odds, he’d turned his life around and become the kind of person others admire and try to emulate. A role model.

The kind of man any woman could love.

Yet she’d let old prejudices rear their ugly heads and jeopardize their future.

What a fool she’d been.

When the silence lengthened, Zach shoved back his chair and circled the table to climb into her lap. He didn’t do that much anymore. Only when he was feeling scared or lonesome or confused.

All the things she, too, was experiencing at the moment.

She wrapped her arms around him, inhaling the comforting little-boy scent that always helped stabilize her world, and pulled him close.

Resting his cheek against her chest, he spoke in a quiv
ery voice. “I have a feeling Nathan’s never going to come back, Mom.”

She had the same feeling. But she couldn’t tell that to Zach. Not today. Not yet.

“He might.”

“Maybe if you asked him to, he would.”

Would he? she wondered. But what words could mitigate the damage she’d done, the pain she’d inflicted?

“Could you try, Mom?”

“I don’t know what I would say, honey.”

“Just tell him we really like him. And it’s lonesome here without him. Tell him it feels like a rainy day even when the sun is shining.”

That about summed it up, Catherine concluded.

Yet there was one more thing she could add.

She could also tell him she was falling in love with him. Maybe that admission would convince him to forgive her fleeting lack of faith in him.

Maybe.

“I’ll think about it, Zach. Are you finished with your lunch?”

“Yeah.”

The grilled-cheese sandwich lay almost untouched on his plate. Usually, she’d insist he eat at least a few bites. Today, she let it pass.

“Okay. Let’s get you settled.”

Fifteen minutes later, after reading him a story, she headed back downstairs. She wasn’t in the mood for housework, but she needed something mindless to do while she planned her strategy. And worried about what was happening to Nathan. The thought that some spiteful, vindictive woman might be able to put him back behind bars made her blood run cold.

She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment he must be experiencing.

Wandering into the laundry room, she began sorting through the dirty clothes in the hamper, her attention only half on her job. But when the Atlanta Braves jersey caught her eye, she froze. It still rested atop the dryer. Still unwashed. Still imbued with Nathan’s scent.

She started to reach for it, but a small white triangle sticking out from between the washer and dryer distracted her. She bent to investigate—only to discover it was a white envelope. Containing her cash from the ATM.