A Letter for Annie (15 page)

In fairness, she owed Kyle a chance to explain why he’d withheld the letter from her. She held it against her heart and, with her eyes closed, spoke to Pete. “I’ve spent the last week remembering and loving you, darling Pete, but I know I have to set the past aside and replace our dreams with others. If you think Kyle might be part of that plan, well, then…I’ll do my best to give him a chance.”

This time when she looked at the letter, she nodded in slow recognition, then folded it carefully and tucked it away in her jewelry case. Geneva could have sold the cottage at any point in the past few years. Instead, she had left her this legacy. It was time to do what both her Auntie G. and Pete had encouraged her to do—live.

K
YLE PARKED
his truck at the curb in front of the Nemecs’ house and sat without moving. Never—not even after he had set Rosemary straight—had he experienced such a dread of seeing them. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the cab. It was a beautiful Oregon evening. The faint scent of roses, emanating from Janet’s flower garden, made him sad. Pete had often picked a single one of these roses to take to Annie.

Oh, yeah. I really need to think of her right now.

He squared his shoulders and strode to the front door. Bruce greeted him and ushered him to the family room at the back of the house. “Beer? Cocktail?”

“Just a soda, please.” This was not a social occasion,
and Kyle was so nervous he didn’t know if he could even swallow.

While Bruce put ice in a glass and poured the soda, Kyle wandered to the window. The patio table was set with yellow and red place mats, and a bouquet of spring flowers served as the centerpiece.

Bruce handed him the soda, then laid a hand on his shoulder. “How do you want to do this, son?”

Kyle appreciated the man’s sensitivity. “I think it’s best before dinner.”

“Rosemary and Janet are in the kitchen. Margaret and Rick will be here as soon as the babysitter arrives. What do you say we watch the tail end of the Mariners game while we wait?”

Although Kyle’s eyes were fixed on the television set, if he’d been asked, he couldn’t have told a thing about the strike count, the number of outs, even the score. The waiting was hell, so he was almost relieved when the Bairds finally arrived and Bruce assembled everyone. Margaret gave him a cursory greeting, then turned away. Rosemary nodded, uncharacteristically quiet. Janet sat next to Kyle on the sofa and the rest found places around the room. Bruce perched on the arm of Rosemary’s chair. The term
hot seat
swam up from Kyle’s subconscious.

Bruce began. “Kyle came to see me Friday and said he had something he wanted to visit with us about. I’m as in the dark as the rest of you, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have asked for this time with us if he hadn’t felt it was important.”

Silence fell, and Kyle knew it was up to him to fill
the void. “Thank you for being here. I’m not looking forward to what I have to say to you. It’s been a long time coming and I wouldn’t blame you for wondering why I’ve waited. All I can say is that I’ve struggled with a lot of stuff since Pete died, trying to make sense out of what happened and my role in it.

“Pete was the brother I never had.” Here he had to clear his throat. Images of Pete filled his head, affecting his concentration on the carefully prepared speech. He gripped his knees, wondering how to utter the next words. He didn’t dare to look at any of them. “Before I go on, there’s one thing you should know.” He raised his head. “I would gladly have taken that sniper’s bullet for him if I could have. What I came to tell you is this. I’m responsible for Pete’s death.”

Bruce stood in protest. “Kyle, no, son. It was a result of war.”

“Please, sir. Let me finish.” Clasping his hands between his knees to conceal their trembling, he went on. “That day in Afghanistan was bitter cold. Overcast. Work on the bridge we were building was slow going, but vital for keeping our supply lines open. We knew there were guerrillas all over the place, hiding in the mountains, blending in with the locals. There were tribes that wanted us gone—at any price. I knew the danger. As the Humvee driver, it was my job to get the guys out of there as quickly as possible. But I made two mistakes.”

He rose and, like a caged animal, paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “First, I was in a hurry to get back to camp. I warmed up the engine and then let my attention wander to the mountains, which, even in
that hostile environment, were beautiful. I should have seen movement, sensed the presence of the sniper.

“Second, and far worse, I should have pulled Pete into the cab. That time I let him pause to look at Annie’s photo was the split-second difference.”

He heard a muffled snort from Margaret. The look on her face revealed more than her mumbled words. “It figures. Annie again.”

Kyle stood stock-still, facing the Nemec family. “Pete would still be here if I had done my job.”

Janet uttered a sharp cry and then came to stand beside him. She picked up his hands and looked him straight in the eye. “It wasn’t your fault, Kyle,” she said in a firm voice. “You have to believe that.”

Rosemary hugged herself, studying the floor. Rick put an arm around Margaret and shook his head sadly. When Janet dropped Kyle’s hands and resumed her seat, he dared to look at Bruce. The man’s jaw was working and his eyes were moist. Unable to speak, he merely nodded at him to continue.

“But that wasn’t the only time I failed Pete,” Kyle said, his voice ragged with emotion. “When Annie ran away, I should have encouraged him to find her. There wasn’t much we could do from Guard training, but when we got back to Eden Bay, I told him stuff like ‘No girl is worth it’ and ‘She punted you, man. Forget her.’” Cringing inwardly, he wondered if his own feelings for Annie had motivated those remarks.

“But Pete didn’t hear any of that. Loyalty was his middle name. Besides, he was crazy for her. If only I’d helped him more when he was searching so frantically
for her, maybe we’d have found her and he wouldn’t have been looking at that damned photograph.”

His voice broke then. “I’m sorry, so very sorry.” He swallowed the sobs thrusting up from his chest. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me around.”

Bruce crossed the room and enveloped him in a bear hug. “We’ve lost one son. We don’t want to lose another.” When he stepped back, he sought Kyle’s eyes. “It was war, Kyle. Unspeakable things happen in war. There isn’t anything much worse than losing a child that way. But we have nothing to forgive, son. No one in this room holds you responsible in any way. Please don’t torture yourself.”

“Why not?” The bitter question caused everyone to face Margaret. “It has to be somebody’s fault.”

Bruce moved closer toward his daughter. “Margaret, it’s time to quit trying to assess blame. It’s time, as well, to move on. Pete’s death ravaged all of us. But it was an accident, sweetheart, an accident. Any error in judgment, if that’s what we can call it, was Pete’s.”

“But—”

Bruce spread his arms. “Come here, honey.”

Margaret collapsed against her father, grief spilling out in tears.

Janet approached Kyle and laid her hands on his shoulders. “Have you been living with guilt all these years?”

He could only manage a nod of the head.

“It’s over, then,” Janet continued. “Pete wouldn’t want you to suffer on his account. He would want you to play all the ball games he can’t, to catch your limit of fish for him. To live, Kyle. Each and every day.”

He was overwhelmed by their acceptance. “I don’t know what to say. I, uh, expected—”

“To be banished?” Smiling, Bruce looked over Margaret’s head at him. “Not in my lifetime, son.” He stepped back and led Margaret back to Rick before rejoining Kyle. “Now what do you say I give you the beer you really wanted when you came in?”

“You know me too well.”

“I hope so. I practically reared you.”

“Does this mean we have to accept Annie Greer, too?” Once again they all turned to Margaret, her eyes glittering with pain.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bruce looked genuinely puzzled.

“Go ahead, Rosemary, tell them.”

Rosemary turned a deep fuchsia. “Please, Margaret. It’s no big deal.”

“To the contrary. I suspect it’s a very big deal. First of all Kyle rejected my sister. But to add insult to injury, the very next day she saw him walking on the beach with Annie Greer.” She paused before administering the blow. “Holding hands.”

Janet turned to Kyle, her mouth forming a perfect O. “Annie?”

Three sets of female eyes pinned him to the wall. “Well,” Margaret said, “wasn’t it enough to let Pete down without hurting the rest of us with Annie?”

“What can I say? Like you, I was mad as hell at Annie for disappearing and breaking my buddy’s heart. When she came back to Eden Bay, I never wanted to see her. But my work for Geneva Greer made that impos
sible. I told Annie exactly how angry and disappointed I was about her actions.”

“But?” Janet encouraged him to go on.

“She was dealing with quite a bit with her great-aunt. Besides, I kept remembering how much Pete loved her. If he’d been here, he would have comforted her, eased the way. I don’t know, I guess I just sort of began doing for her what I thought Pete would’ve done.”

“How gallant,” Margaret muttered, swiping at her tearstained cheeks. “And self-serving.”

Kyle felt his ears burning. He was sorry for Pete’s sister, but he’d had enough of her sarcasm. “Margaret, I regret that you feel so strongly about Annie. You loved Pete and I get it that you never wanted anyone to hurt him, least of all the girl he loved with all his heart. But Annie has her reasons for what happened. Maybe they’re none of our business, but that’s no reason to hate her. You all liked her before, welcomed her into your home, almost like a daughter. Would Pete want you to ostracize her now?”

Margaret had the grace to shut up and stare at the floor.

Janet took command of the tense situation. “I think we’ve all said enough for now. Kyle has given us a lot to think about. None of us wants to say anything more right now, anything that might be hurtful.” She gazed around the room, fixing her eyes on each of them. “So…let’s move outside and get those burgers cooking.”

Kyle murmured his excuses to Janet. No way could he gather with them around their table as if nothing had happened. He was on his way to the door when he
heard footsteps behind him. Rosemary had followed him. “Kyle?”

He turned and saw gentle acceptance in her expression.

“About Annie…well, I just wanted to say, I’m okay that things didn’t work out between us. I’ve thought a lot about it. I was trying way too hard.” She rubbed a hand up and down his arm. “You were right in there. About Pete. About how much he loved Annie. So…if you want to be Annie’s friend, or more, I think Pete would approve.”

Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man, Kyle Becker,” she said as she opened the door for him. “There will be other nights for supper.”

He walked slowly down the walk, undone by her understanding. How could he tell her that he’d ruined his chances with Annie? That even with Pete’s blessing, Kyle would never have a life with the woman he loved.

O
N HIS WAY HOME
, Kyle stopped at the grocery store to grab a TV dinner or two. It would be a far cry from burgers on the grill, Janet’s famous potato salad and Margaret’s signature baked beans. He’d never gone away hungry from the Nemecs’. When he was a kid, Janet would even wrap up homemade cookies for him to take home with him.

No cookies tonight. Only rioting emotions. He was humbled by the generosity of Bruce and Janet, their willingness to forgive him. He wondered, though, if they really understood the extent to which he blamed himself.

On the drive home, he thought a lot about Annie. The atmosphere in the Nemec family room had turned stormy when Margaret confronted him. It was almost
as if in her eyes the ultimate betrayal had not been dereliction of duty in Afghanistan but his betrayal of Pete with Annie. Yet support for his relationship with Annie had come from the unlikeliest source—Rosemary.

When he pulled into his driveway, he shut off the motor and turned to Bubba. “Go figure, fella. I haven’t lost my job. And most of the Nemecs still accept me. I guess it’s a good thing Annie’s turned her back on me, because the one sore spot with Janet and Margaret, at least, is Annie’s treatment of Pete.” He plucked the key out of the ignition and opened the door. “They’ll never understand without knowing the truth and it’s not for me to tell them.”

Inside, he stripped off the pressed khakis and sport shirt and exchanged them for a pair of shorts and a gray T-shirt. He flipped on ESPN and grabbed a beer. The running commentary on the tube might as well have been white noise, though, for all the attention he was paying.

If he hadn’t given Annie the letter, maybe he’d have had a chance with her. But then, he’d always played second banana to Pete. It seemed the ultimate irony that the one woman he had found to love was still carrying a torch for the one man who’d always overshadowed Kyle. He ached with the need to jump in his truck, drive to the Greer cottage, swoop Annie into his arms and make passionate love to her.

Fat chance of that. Even if she welcomed him, she’d be spooked by any physical affection. Here he was, hard just thinking of her, with less than a snowball’s chance in hell of ever holding her again, much less making love to her.

It had been a hell of a day, and he wasn’t looking forward to a sleepless or nightmare-ridden night. Finally he stirred and, giving in to hunger pangs, nuked a TV dinner, which turned out to be just as tasteless as it looked.

He was finishing the minuscule cherry cobbler and watching the final inning of a Padres game when a knock sounded on the door.

Nobody ever came to visit him. Not on a Sunday night. Maybe, after thinking about things, Bruce had reconsidered and was coming to have the difficult discussion of Kyle’s future. Or it could be that Margaret wanted to fire one last salvo.

He tossed the dinner into the trash, wiped his mouth on a napkin and went to the door. When he opened it, he stared stupefied. What was Annie doing here? For one fleeting moment, he allowed himself to hope.