Rachel Lee (34 page)

It was time to start being a real man.

He washed up and changed into fresh clothes, a heavy flannel shirt and a pair of new jeans. A couple of pairs of thermal socks went on his feet, which he then shoved into the work boots he always wore. Then his jacket and knit cap. He looked like Wltt, but he wasn't at all sure he felt like Witt Matlock anymore.

He drove directly to Hannah's house, noting that he needed to get up on her roof and shovel some snow off it before the load got too heavy in the next storm. She would probably argue with him about it, insisting she would get some young man to do it for her, and he wouldn't listen.

He wasn't that old, and despite his scare, he wasn't in that bad a shape, either. He squeezed his hands into fists inside his work gloves and felt the strength he'd always relied on. It was still there.

Her walk was clear, dusted with fresh salt. He hoped she hadn't shoveled it herself. Knowing Hannah, though, she probably had.

He hesitated on the porch, his hand raised to knock. He wondered if Joni would be there, too, or if she was still staying with the Wingates. Everybody was talking about that, and it shamed him.

Finally he knocked, and a few moments later, Hannah opened the door.

"Witt!" She was clearly in the midst of getting ready for work, a mascara wand in her hand. Though dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, a requisite for dealing with animals all day, she was still wearing her house slippers.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

The hand holding her makeup lowered slowly. "Are you going to yell?"

"No. I promise. I just need to say some things."

He wasn't used to seeing Hannah looking dubious, but right now that was the unmistakable expression on her face. He felt another twinge.

"Come in," she said, stepping back. At once she retreated to her rocker and sat. He followed suit, sitting in the easy chair she always ceded to him.

He could hardly bring himself to look at her. Instead, he stared at his hands, fists dangling between his thighs. "You were right," he said finally, his voice strained. "I was being a jackass."

She didn't say anything, leaving him to wonder if her heart was already closed against him, or if she was listening.

He tried again. "I've ... been afraid for a long time."

"Afraid?"

He nodded, keeping his gaze on his hands. "Afraid. I've been living with fear and guilt for twenty-seven years. I felt like I betrayed my brother and my wife. I felt like I betrayed my daughter, too, when we made love. And ever since I've been... feeling like a slug. Like I deserved whatever shit the universe wanted to dump on me. I felt like losing Shari and Karen was ... just punishment."

"Oh, Witt."

Her voice was soft, and finally he was able to look at her. "I was afraid after Sharon died because I thought ... well, if God was punishing me, maybe my punishment wasn't done. If He could take Shari, maybe He'd take Karen, too. Teach me another lesson about not taking care of the people I loved. Then He did."

Hannah looked infinitely sad. So sad he felt his own throat constrict again. He had to look away. "Maybe I did protect Karen too much.

Maybe I did turn a simple high school romance into Romeo and Juliet.

It just felt like ... the harder I tried to keep her, the more she was drifting away. And then..."

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "You can't rail at God, Hannah. That's only asking for more trouble. Remember Job? I was beginning to feel like Job. So I ... got mad at everyone else. I blamed Hardy. I think I maybe even blamed Joni. Because it was safer than blaming God."

"Witt..."

"I'm sorry, Hannah. I never guessed Joni was my daughter. I always figured if she was, you would have told me."

"I should have. I was wrong."

He shrugged. "We've all been a little wrong. Any* way ... I'm sorry.

Maybe I've been hiding from my pain by being angry. Maybe I was afraid to really grieve. I don't know. All I know is, I've been scared for a long, long time."

He stood. "And now I need to go talk to Joni and Hardy. But I wanted you to know ... I've been wrong. And if it weren't too late, I'd marry you in a heartbeat. Because I've always loved you, Hannah. But ... I was afraid God would take you, too."

Hannah rose then, crossing the room quickly to him, to put her arms around him and hold him tight. After a moment, he hugged her back, and to her amazement, she felt a warm tear fall on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Witt," she murmured. "It's okay. I've been feeling guilty and frightened, too. And ... I've never stopped loving you. Never, for even one second."

He lifted his head to look down at her, and she could see his cheeks were wet. He started to open his mouth, but she covered his lips with her fingertips.

"There's time for us later. Go talk to the children. You need to mend Joni's heart."

Witt swallowed and nodded, then, reluctantly, turned and walked out of the house.

Joni was dressed for work, coming down the stairs for breakfast, when Barbara called to her from the living-room doorway. " " Honey? Could you get Hardy down here? You have a visitor. "

At this hour of the morning? Joni wondered, "Sure," she said and trudged back up the stairs, reaching Hardy's room just as he opened the door. He, too, was dressed for the day.

"Barbara sent me to get you. We have a visitor." "We also have something more important to think about," he said, and swooped for a deep kiss that left her feeling light-headed and weak. "Us."

A blush stained her cheeks. She'd been hoping against hope this morning that he wouldn't be casual about last night. Apparently he wasn't.

"But," he said with obvious reluctance, "I guess we need to find out who the hell comes calling at seven in the morning."

"I wonder why Barbara didn't say who it was."

"Weird."

Together they went downstairs. Visible from the hallway, standing in the living room with his jacket unzipped, was Witt.

"Oh, God," Joni said under her breath. She felt herself bracing for whatever awful things Witt was going to say now. He was probably going to give it to her over staying with Hardy.

"Yeah," Hardy murmured back.

They exchanged looks, as if for reassurance, then stepped into the living room together, as if announcing they were a pair. Much to Joni's surprise, Witt didn't glare at them. Instead, all he did was say, "Hello."

Hardy stepped forward a little, as if ready to place himself between Joni and Witt. "Something I can do for you, Witt?"

"Yes. You can listen to me for a few minutes. And you, too, Joni.

There's something I need to say."

Joni sat in an armchair, determined to show him that she wasn't intimidated by him, even if he stood over her.

Hardy motioned Witt to take a seat. After a moment, Witt settled into the rocking chair. Hardy sat on the end of the sofa, close to Joni's chair.

"We'll listen," Hardy said, speaking for them both, apparently because he guessed that Joni wasn't going to say anything at all.

A couple of times Witt looked as if he was about to speak but then caught himself and drummed his fingers on the arm of the rocker.

This was, Joni thought, the first time she had ever seen him at a loss for words since Karen's funeral. Despite her determination not to feel anything for Witt anymore, she found herself feeling sad for him. Sad and sorry.

"Okay," Witt said finally. "I'm having trouble finding ways to say this, and I kind of figure the two of you have lots of reasons not to want to hear me out. It's probably too late, anyway, although...! hope it's not."

"It's rarely too late, Witt," Hardy said.

Joni wondered how he could speak so calmly to a man who'd been verbally and emotionally beating him up at every opportunity for twelve years.

Hardy seemed to have an awfully kind and generous heart. But of course he did. Look at how he cared for her. That was straightforward Wingate generosity.

Witt sighed. "I'm having a hard time getting started. I guess, first of all ... Joni, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got so mad that I acted like a damn fool and disowned you. You didn't deserve that. You've never deserved that. There's nothing on earth you could do that would make me stop loving you."

The ache in Joni's chest grew so great that she had trouble breathing.

A noose seemed to be squeezing her throat. "Uncle Witt..."

He shook his head. "Let me finish. I need to say it all. Then you can decide what you want to do about me.

"You said something last night about coming home and looking for my love and never finding it. It was there, honey. It was always there.

But ... I was hiding it. And I was hiding it because I was afraid.

"You see, I'd lost my wife and Karen, and I felt it was punishment for what I'd done with your mother. I know it sounds crazy, but I was afraid ... and I was afraid I'd lose you and your mom, too. That maybe my punishment wasn't over. So ... I kept some distance after Karen.

Especially with you. I couldn't have borne losing you, too."

Joni could only look at him from tear-blurred eyes.

"Which brings me to you," Witt continued, looking at Hardy. "When I get scared, I get mad. Stupid thing to do, but that's what I do. And I had some other stuff I was worrying about. I felt guilty that Karen was dead, figuring I hadn't protected her well enough. I felt ...

responsible, because losing her must have been some kind of punishment from God. I don't know. It's all tangled up in my head. What I do know is that I was shifting blame. Moving it from myself to you. It was easier, I guess."

"I understand," Hardy said.

"That's more than I do." Witt stood. "Well, that's all I have to say.

I was wrong. I was very wrong. I'm sorry. Now you two go ahead and do whatever it is you were planning to do and don't mind me. But if you can... maybe you can find a way to forgive me. I don't want to lose you, Joni. You've always fit in my heart like a daughter." He started to walk away, but Joni stopped him.

She'd fit in his heart like a daughter? Did he fit in her heart like a father? Or was that merely a biological fact? She studied his face, remembered the times he'd been there, even if distantly. It wasn't simply that her mother had glowed whenever he was around. She'd felt it, too. Was that what it felt like to be with "Dad" Or would he always remain. "Uncle Witt?"

He looked back.

"I love you ... Dad."

He took her hand. "I love you, too, honey."

"And what about the hotel?"

Witt suddenly cracked a crooked grin. "I already told my lawyer to give Hardy the job. I figure Hannah and I can be married there in the autumn. You two want to have a double ceremony?"

He left without waiting for an answer. Not that Joni could have spoken. Dumbfounded, she looked at Hardy.

Hardy looked equally stunned, as if he couldn't quite absorb the news.

Finally he cleared his throat and said, "Wow."

Joni nodded. But her mind was already leaping to something else, something even more important. And so, for that matter, was Hardy's.

He cleared his throat again and began to steer in that direction.

"It's about time he married Hannah," Hardy said. "I thought all along that they should be together."

But Joni's attention was elsewhere. Her mouth was dry, and her heart was racing like a motor on a speedway. "He thought ... he said..."

"That we were going to get married?" Hardy's eyes suddenly crinkled at the corners as he looked down at her.

"Why would he...?"

"Oh, maybe because it's written plain as day all over my face whenever I look at you," he suggested, trying to sound philosophical. "Then, of course, there's the possibility that other people are beginning to see in your eyes what I'm seeing. What I hope I'm not imagining."

Joni's breath caught. "What are you seeing?" she asked in a hushed voice.

His smile grew tender, hopeful. "That ... maybe you're falling in love with me, too?"

Joni closed her eyes, scarcely able to believe her good fortune. "Oh, Hardy," she whispered, opening her eyes to look at him again. "Don't you know? I've always been in love with you. But ... I thought because of Witt you'd never want me. That it was pointless even to hope."

"Well, I kind of thought the same thing," he admitted, drawing her into a snug embrace. "All these years ... it was like you were behind a window and I didn't have the key to get to you. Joni, I love you. Will you marry me?"

She bit her lower lip as a smile began to stretch her cheeks. "Are you sure? You really believe what Witt said?"

"That was a pretty big olive branch he offered, building his hotel. I believe him."

"Me too. And I need to tell him so."

"Wait a minute," he said, squeezing her even tighter. "Us first. Then you can run after him. Are you going to answer my question?"

Her eyes began to sparkle, and her smile was so wide that it hurt.

"What question?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I can't believe you're going to put me through this twice. Don't you know how hard it is to ask once? My future's on the line here. My ego..." But he trailed off and grew serious.

"Joni, will you marry me?"

Her answer was as simple as his question.

"Yes," she said with all the joy in her heart. "Yes!"

From the doorway came two voices.

"Hallelujah!" said Barbara.

"It's about time," said Witt.

Joni and Hardy didn't even glance their way.

Hardy murmured, "It is about time." And then he kissed her.