Bonds Of The Heart (15 page)

              She ran a lazy hand across Blake’s chest. She felt his heartbeat start to slow along with hers. His chest rose and fell as his breathing slowed. Erika didn’t want to leave him. She hoped he’d ask her to stay, to love her as she loved him. On a heavy sigh, she drifted into sleep next to the man she loved, knowing she’d have to leave him soon.

Sixteen

***

The room was dark, the only light from the full moon shining through the windows. Not a sound could be heard in the house, the only sounds coming from outside that reminded her of long summer nights—crickets, cicadas, owls, and other creatures of the night.  Erika nuzzled into Blake's sleeping chest, one arm wrapped around his waist. Blake Hamilton had made her happy for the first time in three months since her daddy’s passing. And she loved him for it. She couldn’t help but feel as if Blake was the only one who understood her.

              She wondered if this was how her mother felt when she met her father. They had always looked so happy, so in love together. Even when they were arguing over the little projects her father had taken on between deployments that cluttered the garage. Even through the tearful goodbyes at the base, and especially whenever her father would come home safely. Erika remembered the way her father had wrapped his arms around her mother the last time he came home.

              Erika slid from Blake’s hold and grabbed his shirt off the floor and put it on. It smelled of him—earthy. She’d miss Blake’s embrace when she left for California. She wished with all her heart that he’d ask her to stay. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked out the window. Blake stirred in bed at her movements, turning and reaching an arm out to bring her back to him.

              “Erika?”

              “Sorry if I woke you.”

              “No, it’s okay. Is everything all right?”

              “I was just going to get something to drink.”

              “Stay, I’ll go get it for you.” Blake rose and slipped on his boxers, giving her a chaste kiss on her shoulder. Her heart swelled in her chest. Blake headed toward the door and padded down the hall.

              Erika looked around Blake’s room. There were pictures of him and his brother. There were more of Robbie and Jared. There were a few pictures of Jared and a young, beautiful woman with sandy brown hair. That must be Robbie’s mother, she thought.  The clothes scattered across the room, made her laugh.
If it weren’t for women, men would never clean their rooms.
She made a promise to herself to help Blake do what had taken her almost three months to do‒‒pack away his brother’s items. Not forever, of course. Just a step toward helping him move on.

              Blake had helped her do that herself—move on. Not entirely, of course. She still missed her daddy with every piece of herself, but Blake had found a way to enter that broken heart and help her heal. She hoped she could do the same for him. She just didn’t have that much time left. In just over a week, she’d be on a flight back to L.A. and out of his life. If he asked her to stay, she would. She knew that deep down inside. But if he didn’t love her back, he wouldn’t ask her to stay.

              Her publishing house had an office in Washington D.C. It was one of the benefits of being in the top ten of publishing houses. She could work out of the city and be home with Blake and Robbie. She had even gone as far as to email HR and see what was available. She should be hearing from them soon, and she’d have to check her email when she got home. She had only requested the information as a ‘just in case’.

              Trying to keep the heartbreak at bay, Erika stood and walked toward the window next to the bedside table when she noticed the pictures. Picking them up, she looked through each of them slowly.

              Pictures of Blake’s brother stationed overseas, she mused. How many pictures had she looked through of her father after the funeral? Blake’s pain was just as deep as hers. Her heart tightened for him. They’d had much more in common than she had first thought.

              Blake had surrounded himself by the memories of his brother. Looking back toward the room, she took a second glance at the clothes on the floor. She frowned. None of them looked like Blake’s. They must be his brothers. She would help him pack those away, when he was ready to do so. Turning back to the photos in her hands, she sifted through them. She could hear Blake coming down the hall when she reached the last photo.

              “I didn’t know if you wanted water or something else, so I brought—”

              Blake froze in the doorway. Erika held the picture of his brother and her father in her hands; tears spilling down her face. He dropped the glasses in his hands and rushed to her. He should have told her before they'd had sex together. He had to tell her now; he’d have to make her listen.

              Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Why—”

              “Erika, I—”

              “Why do you have a picture of my father? Why didn’t you tell me?” her voice cracked at the words. More tears fell.

              “Erika, let me explain.” Blake reached to wipe the tears from her cheeks but she slapped his hand away.

              “Don’t touch me.”

              “Erika, please…”

              She held the picture out to Blake. “This is
my
father. How could you keep this from me? How could you possibly explain? That you knew about this the whole time and never told me?” She crossed the room, tearing off his shirt and getting dressed in the process, her father’s dog tags swaying around her neck. “I trusted you. I thought you…”

              “Erika, please. Don’t go. Let me—”

              “I don’t want your explanation, Blake.”

              The tears falling from her eyes froze him to his spot. He wanted to pull her into him, explain what he didn’t give himself the chance to do before. “I should have told you when I found out.”             

              “Yes, you should have.”

              “I didn’t know it was your father. I never looked at his face or the name on his uniform. I only just found out.”

              “I don’t believe you.” Her voice was low and strained. How could he do this to her? Why would he keep this from her? He knew how much her father meant to her.

              Blake reached out to Erika but she pulled away from him.

              “I said don’t touch me. She cried and threw the shirt in his face and stomped naked down the hall, grabbed her clothes and stormed out of the room, the house, and Blake standing alone in the dark.

              Erika stared at Blake’s truck as she walked out of the house. She had come there tonight with him in that dirty old truck. Walking toward it, her hurt spilled over her in waves. She looked into the cab. In the pale moonlight, she noticed the gleam of the dog tags hanging from the rearview mirror. She placed a hand over her father’s around her neck and backed away from the truck. She held her other hand held over her mouth to keep any sound from escaping.

              Blake’s brother was killed in the same accident as her father. Her father and his brother died together.
He should have told me.
Anger and hurt gripped her heart like two vise grips. When she told him about how her father was killed, he should have said something. Why didn’t he mention that he had a picture of her father? Why didn’t he tell her that her father was his brother’s commanding officer? She let her heart get in the way of her head. And now it was broken—again. Turning, she ran away from Blake’s house toward her home.

              She was relieved to see her house dark, her mother probably deep asleep in bed. Erika didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. She’d crawl into bed, in her father’s old t-shirt, and quietly cry herself to sleep. In the morning, she’d change her ticket and fly back to L.A. sooner than she was supposed to. Grabbing the stuffed dog that Blake had won, she cried into her pillow and fell asleep.

***

              Blake was frozen for a minute before running after Erika. By the time he got outside, she was gone. He should go after her. But what could he say? She didn’t want to listen to him. Walking back into the house, he headed back to the bedroom. He looked around, the mess before him mirroring what he felt inside. Rumpled sheets in the bed, where they had been so intimate, lay in disarray. Empty glasses and spilled water on the floor, seeping into scattered clothes and hallway carpet. Pictures from his brother were scattered around the room. The one of his brother and her father was gone, along with his heart.

              He caught his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were tired, strained, and…hurt. Scratch marks where Erika had clawed at him only hours ago were still red on his shoulders and chest. He ran a hand over the marks and cursed himself for not telling her, not showing her the picture first. He’d had all night. He’d had plenty of time before they had done anything—at the fair when they waited for Robbie to ride the rides, at the garage when she picked up her Jeep, in the living room right before they’d…

             
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Such an idiot.

              His brother would laugh at him right now if it wasn’t for his heart breaking. What kind of man was he to let it get this far? What kind of man lets the woman he loves walk out on him? He stared at the picture of his brother on his wedding day. He hadn’t given too much thought to his future before, aside from taking care of Robbie and the garage. He had never factored a woman into his life. Maybe if things had been different, if he was still in D.C. and his brother still alive, he would have considered marriage and love. But then, if things were different, he wouldn’t have met Erika Gibbons. He wouldn’t have fallen in love with her and wanted her to spend the rest of her life with him.

              He would have to give her time to calm down. He would find her tomorrow or the day after and explain everything. He would try to make her listen to him. He’d tell her all about his brother and Robbie. He’d tell her that he loved her. He’d ask her to marry him.

              But first there was something he needed to do for himself, above everything else.

              Before the sun rose in the sky, Blake cleaned up the spilled drinks. He dug out the packing boxes his mother had brought over and began to pack Jared’s belongings. He hefted box after box to the attic. He kept only happy reminders of his brother—pictures, gifts, memories. When the sun rose behind gray clouds, he got in his brother’s truck and took off for some deserted dirt field before going to the cemetery—to finally pay a visit to his brother.

Seventeen

***

Erika slept in, knowing her mother had to be at the fair early in the day. She had kept her door closed and listened as her mother walked through the house. When she heard her mother start her car and leave, Erika sighed. Turning over, she peered out the window. The sky was dark with clouds and the wind howled against the glass. They would have to close the fair for the bad weather today, so that meant her mom would have to pack up the book club table and other tents.  She prayed her mom’s car wouldn’t breakdown on her way to the fair.

              She pulled the covers up and over her head and let a few more tears fall.

              All night she had tried to figure out how everything had fallen apart so fast. She had tried to rationalize Blake’s stupidity; tried to defend him. But nothing she could come up with could bring her to forgive him. The largest hurt of all was that she loved him.

              She had fallen completely, head-over-heels, undeniably in love with Blake Hamilton.

              What was she to do now with her feelings? Blake was the only man she had ever loved in her life. No other man, she knew, would ever come close to Blake. For that, she knew she’d never been completely happy with any other. She wiped the tears from her face and sat up in her bed.

              Today she would pack. The drive into Culpeper would help her get herself together, and when she was there she’d change her flight home to tomorrow. She’d call Maggie and schedule her Jeep to be shipped back to California. Mags would offer to carpool until it arrived and since she didn’t really want to be alone, it would help her keep her thoughts of Blake away if she had someone around to distract her.

              Changing the flight would give her enough time to say goodbye to her dad one last time and kiss her mom goodbye. She’d explain to her mother that her work needed her back in L.A. sooner than expected. She’d email the HR woman‒‒the one who wanted to offer her the editing job in the D.C. office before…before everything fell apart‒‒ when she got home, and decline the job. She’d stay in L.A. and try to replant those roots she had started to relocate for Blake.

              She had only applied to the job in D.C. when she realized she loved Blake. Sending her resume and an email to the HR office in hopes of moving back home to be with Blake so soon after meeting him was a stupid idea.
Look before you leap.
She never liked that saying, but now it rang through her head like a bad hangover. Her heart was here with Blake and her mother—and her father. She had been offered the job and she hated that she’d have to say no now. She couldn’t be here and face him every day.