I Want to Hold Your Hand (17 page)

In all the time he’d been gone, she’d never been able to bring herself to open the boxes, to touch his things, to deal with whatever she might find among his possessions. She knew it was ridiculous to still be frightened by a couple of boxes. But how could she really move forward the way she needed to as long as they were sitting untouched? There might even be things in there his parents would like to have, so it was selfish of her to continue to pretend they weren’t there.

She checked her watch and saw that she had more than an hour before she had to meet Cameron. “No time like the present,” she said with determination that couldn’t quell the overwhelming dread that settled in her belly as she pulled the tape off the first box.

Inside, were faded T-shirts in a variety of brown, as well as tan and army green camouflage uniforms with the
GUTHRIE
patch sewed over the chest pocket. Hannah ran her fingers over the captain’s bars on the collar, remembering how proud Caleb had been to receive that first significant promotion. He’d joked about the day he’d pin his first star and officially outrank his colonel father. Had he lived, Hannah had no doubt he would’ve gotten there.

The second box revealed Caleb’s tattered leather-bound copy of
The Road Not Taken: A Selection of Robert Frost’s Poems
, with a bookmark before “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” Caleb’s all-time favorite poem. She used to tease him about how many times he could read the same poems over and over again, but he’d say they moved him the same way every time. A dog-eared copy of Thoreau’s
Walden and Civil Disobedience
and several of the military thrillers he’d loved were stacked next to the Frost book.

Beneath the books she found a pile of worn denim and T-shirts with snowboarding logos, all of which she pulled out and set aside to give to Gavin. At the bottom of the box were several spiral notebooks that she withdrew for a closer look. On the cover of each, a range of dates had been written. She flipped open the one with the earliest date and found a variety of journal entries and drawings and observations Caleb had written about life in the war zone, about missing his wife and family, about his misgivings about the war itself and his disillusionment with the decisions coming from Washington.

Taken in by Caleb’s familiar scrawl, Hannah greedily read the first notebook and was reaching for the second when she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and realized she had ten minutes before she was due to meet Cameron. She took the notebooks to her own room to devour later when she had the time to truly immerse herself. What insights would she find within the journals and how would she feel about them?

It was not for nothing she’d avoided those boxes all this time, she thought as she brushed her hair and teeth in preparation to leave the house. Somehow she’d known another emotional journey awaited her, and it had taken until now, until she was on the cusp of moving forward with someone else, to be able to confront those memories.

On the way out of the bedroom, she glanced longingly at the journals, wondering if she’d find some last words to her from Caleb within their pages. She’d heard talk of “just in case” letters left behind by soldiers going to war, but Caleb had told her there was no need for such a thing because he had no intention of getting himself killed, and in typical Caleb style, he’d refused to even discuss the possibility.

In the car, she took a moment to calm herself, hoping her hands would quit trembling before she got to the diner. She drove slowly, all the while thinking about the journals. Would she be better off at this juncture in her life to leave the past where it belonged and not open old wounds by reading them? Would she ever know a minute’s peace if she didn’t read them?

“Why did I have to open those boxes? Why, why,
why
?” Because, she supposed, she’d always suspected she would find some closure there, and until now she hadn’t really wanted closure. She hated that word.
Closure
. As if there could ever be such a thing when you lose your vibrant twenty-eight-year-old husband so suddenly and tragically.

But she also conceded that if she had any prayer of a relationship with Nolan, she had to make peace with the past. The retreat was a good step in the right direction. It honored Caleb’s memory and provided a meaningful service to other women who’d lost spouses to war.

That, coupled with the road race the Guthries sponsored every year around the anniversary of Caleb’s death, would ensure that no one forgot the name of the young man who’d given up potential fame and fortune as a professional hockey player and instead made the ultimate sacrifice in service to his country.

Hannah found a parking space a block from the diner and walked in a few minutes later to find Cameron already waiting for her in a booth.

“Thank God you’re here,” Cameron said under her breath.

Megan approached the table with two mugs of coffee that she all but dropped in front of them before turning and storming off.

“I see things are going better between you and Megan,” Hannah said.

Cameron’s laughter drew a foul look from Megan, directed at Cameron’s back. “Is she looking at me?”

“Um, maybe.”

“I’ve never had anyone hate me so much—at least not that I know of.”

“She needs to grow up and get a clue.”

“She needs to grow up and realize she’s focused on the wrong Abbott brother.”

“What does that mean?” Hannah asked.

“You don’t know? About Hunter?”

“What about him?”

“He likes Megan.”

Hannah tipped her head as she studied Will’s gorgeous blonde girlfriend. “You wanna run that by me one more time?”

Cameron leaned in close to Hannah. “Hunter. Likes. Megan. A lot.”

Astounded, Hannah said, “How do you know this?”

“I pay attention. What can I say? I’m obsessed with all things Abbott, so I probably notice stuff the rest of you miss.”

Had she been so self-absorbed that she’d failed to notice her twin’s interest in Megan? Or had he done a very good job of hiding it? Probably some of both.

“I didn’t say this to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m shocked. Here you think you know someone as well as you know yourself, and he’s keeping this huge secret.”

“He’s keeping it secret because he likes her, but she likes Will, but he likes me. From Hunter’s perspective, there’s no point in pursuing her when she’s crazy about his brother.”

“But Will isn’t interested in her,” Hannah said. “He never has been.”

“That doesn’t seem to matter to her, does it?”

Hannah took a sip from her mug as she processed this intriguing new information. “Tell me this, oh wise one . . . Who is Colton getting busy with?”

“Colton is getting busy? That’s news to me!”

Hannah shared what she’d learned from Ella and Charley earlier in the day.

“He really shaved off his beard?”

“And cut his hair.”

“Will said he’s had the beard since high school.” Cameron’s blue eyes widened with dismay. “Wait! The beard picture is all over the syrup bottles! It’s part of the corporate identity!”

“How could he do this to us?” Hannah asked, amused.

“I know, right? He’s not thinking about me or the website. That’s for sure. I’m not taking all new pictures of him just because he decided to change his look for a woman.”

“More importantly, who is this mystery woman?”

“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.”

“You’re going to be an excellent addition to the Abbott family, Cameron.”

“Oh don’t jinx me. We just moved in together. If Will hears I’m making plans to change my name, he might kick me out.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s crazy about you, and you have to know it’s only a matter of time before he proposes.”

Cameron frowned as she looked down at her coffee.

“You don’t want to marry him?”

“It’s not that. I love him so much. You know that.”

“Then what is it?” Hannah asked, trying not to panic on Will’s behalf. She’d never seen her brother as happy as he’d been since he met Cam.

“I’m not a big fan of marriage in general. From everything I’ve seen, it just messes up a perfectly good thing.”

“That’s not always true. My parents are going strong at thirty-six years. My grandparents were happily married for fifty-four years before my grandmother died. And . . .” Hannah took a breath as her heart slowed to a crawl when she thought of the journals waiting for her at home. “The six years I was married to Caleb were the happiest of my life.”

Cameron blew out a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. It was thoughtless of me to crack on marriage to you of all people.”

“Don’t say that. I hate when people feel like they have to watch what they say around me, especially people I’m close to, and I hope you and I are going to be close.”

“I hope so, too,” Cameron said softly. “And you make a compelling case for marriage. I’ve just never pictured myself married. I don’t know why, but I don’t see it for me.”

“That was before you met Will Abbott and fell head over heels for a traditional kind of guy who’s going to want the wife and two-point-five kids.”

“What am I supposed to do with half a kid?” she asked with a smile.

“You guys will figure it out.”

“Anyway, enough about me. We’re supposed to be talking about you and your retreat and all my incredibly awesome ideas for promoting it.” Cameron opened a binder and pulled out several papers that she laid flat in front of Hannah. In the center of each page was a proposed logo.

Hannah’s eyes gravitated to the one that included a picture of Caleb in uniform over the simple words
Capt. Caleb M. Guthrie Memorial Retreat
. She ran her fingers over the picture of his chiseled face, looking like the fierce and focused warrior he became after he joined the army.

“This isn’t how I remember him,” Hannah said, staring at his familiar face. “For most of the time we were together, he had long curly hair down to his shoulders and a goatee he grew every winter and shaved off in the spring. I’ll never forget the first time I saw him after the big army haircut. I barely recognized him without all the hair.”

She glanced at the other logos, one of which included a photograph of her big Victorian and another that featured Butler Mountain, but her gaze kept returning to the photo of Caleb. “This is the one,” she said, running her finger over his face. “I want him present in this entire project.”

“That’s my favorite one, too. I hope you don’t mind that Will shared the photo with me.”

“Of course not. I really appreciate all you’re doing to help me with this. I could never do it without you.”

“Sure, you could. I’m just making it easier.” They went over some rough plans for a website that included a registration function that would be totally automated as well as a Facebook page that Cameron was prepared to launch as soon as Hannah chose the logo. “The next big question is how soon do you want to roll it out?”

“To be honest, I thought it would take a lot longer to put all the pieces together. I can’t believe how much you got done when you were getting ready to move.”

“I had a lot of sleepless nights where I could either work or freak out about how I was totally upending my life for a man. I chose to work.”

Hannah smiled even as a thousand emotions churned through her all at once.

“We don’t know each other all that well, Hannah, but even I can tell you’re not yourself today. Is everything okay?”

God, she wanted to tell someone about the journals she’d found and who better than the one person in her life who hadn’t known him? Who hadn’t known her with him. “Things have been a bit strange lately,” she said hesitantly.

“Because of Homer?”

“For one thing.” Hannah appreciated that Cameron gave her a moment of silence to collect her thoughts. “This past winter was a tough one for some reason. I was very out of sorts for much of it.”

“Any particular reason?”

“None that I can think of other than all of a sudden I’m tired of being a grief-stricken widow. It’s like the load of grief has become too heavy to tote around or something. Naturally, I feel guilty for even thinking that way. Who am I to say there’s a time limit on grief, and I’ve reached it?”

“I was nine when someone told me my mother died giving birth to me.”

Startled by the confession, Hannah met Cameron’s gaze across the table, waiting to see what she would say next.

“A nanny told me, of all people. She thought I knew, and felt terrible when she realized I didn’t. My father was so furious. I’ve never seen him that mad before or since. He fired her on the spot, which made me feel awful for her. It wasn’t her fault that no one had told me. I was a disaster for years after that. The thought that my mother had
lost her life
because of me . . .” Cameron shook her head as if it was still too big to understand all this time later. “I went totally off the deep end emotionally. It took years of therapy before I accepted it wasn’t my fault, and the worst thing I could do was sacrifice the life she’d given up so much for. I know all about how heavy that load becomes when you haul it around long enough.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me. It helps to know someone understands how difficult it is to be stuck on Pause for so long. Things are changing all around me, and even though I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to press Play and go for broke, at least I’m not on Pause anymore.”

“Leaving Pause means leaving the comfort zone that’s kept you safe for all this time, too.”

Nodding in agreement, Hannah fiddled with her spoon. “This morning I went through the boxes they sent home from Iraq after Caleb died. They’ve sat in one of the spare bedrooms for years. On the way over here, I was asking myself why now. Why after all this time did I decide to open them?”

“Why do you think?”

“Because I’m ready now, or I thought I was until I found his journals from Iraq.”

“Oh God, Hannah. Did you read them?”

“Not yet. I looked at one of them, but I didn’t really have time to dive in.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only just started seeing Nolan—”