Reclaiming His Past (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Y
ou weren't at the church service this morning, so I came to check on you.”

Grant turned the hat in his hands in a complete circle. He remained at the foot of her porch steps, oddly uneasy in this place he'd considered home for weeks. He would've thought learning he was an honest citizen in service to the government would make him feel as if he belonged, as if he had a right to be here. But the truth hadn't brought healing. The truth had acted like a disease, eating away at his and Jessica's relationship until he wasn't sure if there was anything left to salvage.

Jessica's attention was on the pile of pink fabric in her lap. The sun's light blocked by thick, low-hanging clouds rendered her unbound hair a darker hue in contrast to her slate-gray dress.

“Go away, Parker.”

“Not until we talk.”

“There's nothing to talk about.”

Of course she'd be stubborn. He balanced one boot on the bottom stair and rested his forearm across his thigh. “I disagree. I can be just as obstinate as you, so unless you'd like for me to stick around all day, you'll hear me out.”

Pink mouth compressing, she lifted her gaze. The turmoil in her eyes punched him in the gut. If Gatlinburg hadn't been his destination, if he hadn't been searching for Cavanaugh, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to inflict pain. The prospect of missing the chance to know her, to
love
her, made his chest ache and his heart kick in protest.

What good is loving her going to do either of you?
an insidious voice demanded.
Your life is dedicated to bringing criminals to justice. A treacherous existence not suited to marriage.

After she'd fled, he and Taylor had spoken long into the night. He'd answered Grant's myriad questions as best he could. Those pertaining to his marriage to Susannah Baker hadn't been as clear-cut. According to the older marshal, Grant hadn't been one to share private details with just anyone. Aaron would be better suited to supply the information he needed. What Grant was able to glean, however, was that after her death, he'd planned to remain single.

One thing was certain—Jessica would've been better off never meeting Garrett Parker.

“I thought you'd be packing,” she charged, the needle and thread held aloft.

“That's what Taylor wants.”

Something flickered in her expression. She pressed her lips more tightly together.

“I'm not leaving town until I talk to my brother. Taylor's sending word for Aaron to come here at his first convenience. In the meantime, I'll continue working and going about life as usual.”

The thought of meeting his brother filled him with anticipation. Apprehension, too, if he was honest. He didn't know what to expect, what sort of relationship they shared. Without knowing their history, he was a blind man fumbling about in the dark.

“And will Taylor stay, as well?”

“Shane found a family willing to take him in for the time being.”

“He seems like a decent man.” She tilted her head. “You don't remember him?”

“That mustache of his is hard to forget. And the cheroot scent clinging to his clothes. Do I recall working with him? No.”

“Maybe, when you return to Arlington, to your home, and you're surrounded by your possessions, you'll remember more.”

She dipped her head, but not before he glimpsed her deep sorrow. The specter of his marriage loomed between them. And the fact he'd been pursuing the man she'd loved.

The distance between them seemed insurmountable. Grant hated it. He wasn't about to leave Gatlinburg with things unsettled and broken. He couldn't leave her with hurt feelings. If it weren't for Jessica, he might've died. He certainly wouldn't have adjusted to his altered existence without her.

“Let's go for a walk.”

He thought for a minute that she'd refuse him. Clearly unhappy, she put her sewing project inside the cabin and halted before descending the steps. She didn't come near. Waving her hand, she said, “After you.”

Grant yearned to hold her close, to promise her everything would turn out fine. He couldn't lie to her, however. Things wouldn't be fine. How could they when his future didn't include her? Staying in Tennessee wasn't an option. He had a responsibility to his fellow marshals. To the US Government. Even if Jessica agreed to a future visit from him, who knew how long it would be before he could travel this way again?

By that time, she could be in a courtship with someone else.

His heart heavy, he focused on keeping his stride matched to hers. They entered the forest. Without the sunlight peeking through the canopy above, the understory assumed a mysterious quality. The humidity moistened his skin and made the ends of his hair cling to his nape.

Jessica maintained a healthy distance, looked everywhere but at him. “How are you coping with...everything?”

His chest heaved with a sigh. “It's a lot to take in at once. I don't doubt Taylor's sincerity, but it feels as if the life he's described belongs to someone else.”

He stepped over a moss-encrusted fallen log. Jessica avoided his outstretched hand and climbed over it without his assistance. He thought of their most recent embrace, clung to the memory of her sweet kiss and soft expression.

Memories fade. They won't be enough to sustain me.

“US marshal wasn't one of the jobs we thought of, was it?” She finally deigned to look at him, attempting a half smile that didn't reach her eyes.

He silently willed her to hold his gaze, to read everything he couldn't articulate into words. “No. It wasn't.”

She stumbled over an exposed root and, pulling away from his fleeting touch, put even more space between them. “It's a noble profession.”

He tamped down his frustration. “According to Taylor, my father was a respected constable for many years. That's the reason Aaron and I went into law enforcement.”

Walking into church that morning, he'd recognized the not-so-subtle change in folks' regard. Admiration and respect had replaced suspicion. He wouldn't lie. It felt good to be rid of the troubling imaginings, to slay the panic beast that had hovered below the surface since awakening in these woods. To know he'd lived his life righting wrongs. Upholding justice. Ensuring criminals got what was coming to them.

He wished he could remember. The job. His father. Aaron. Susannah. His unborn child.

Sadness overtook him. How could he have forgotten something that monumental? That tragic? He didn't know how he'd met Susannah, how they'd come to be married, whether or not he'd truly loved her. The old questions had been replaced with a whole new set.

“I probably shouldn't mention it.” They'd reached the stream. Bracing a hand against a gnarled tree bent sideways, she observed the rippling water. “I didn't have a chance to express my condolences last night. I—I'm sorry about your w-wife and child.”

Boots making impressions in the soft earth, he clenched his fists. Minnows darted through the water. “I want to remember everything. There's a part of me, though, that thinks maybe not knowing the details is best.”

“I can't imagine what you're going through.” Tenderness wove through her voice.

Grant fought the impulse to confess his feelings. More than anything, he wanted to take her in his arms and not let go until she believed in his love for her. No matter what the past contained, Jessica was the only woman who'd possess his heart. His dreams of a future resided solely with her.

Rubbing his temples, he called on all his strength of will. She wasn't ready to hear it. And he wasn't in the position to tell her such things.

“Guess this explains your affinity for the outdoors,” she mused, glancing about at their lush surroundings. “You traveled a lot for your work.”

“Spent my nights stargazing.” He hadn't memorized the constellations from a book, as they'd supposed, but from lonely nights sitting by a campfire.

“You must've seen so many places.” Crouching at the water's edge, she plucked a yellowed leaf from the surface and twirled it in her fingers, unmindful of the moisture dripping on her skirts. Her glorious hair spilled down her back, shiny and luminous like a new copper penny. “Your interest in your surroundings must stem from that.”

“Possibly.”

“You knew the year Tennessee went dry without having to think about it.” As her statement registered, her gaze shot to his, and he saw the shame come flooding back.

Striding over before she could retreat, he bent and clasped her shoulder. “We've been through this already. Don't reclaim guilt that doesn't belong to you.”

Jessica averted her face. Long ropes of hair cascaded over his hand. Gently, he smoothed the silky strands into place. “Jess, look at me.”

When she wouldn't, he curved his hand about her cheek and nudged her face in his direction. Her expression was awash in misery. “You don't know how humiliating it is,” she burst out. “That you were only here to search for him. I was so blind!”

His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “No,” he intoned. “You trusted someone who failed to see what a treasure he had in you. He willingly deceived you. I don't need my memories to know there are some people who take advantage of others' generosity and trust. They use others to get what they want without thought to the consequences.” He shook his head. “You aren't the only one who has regrets.”

“What do you mean?”

Unable to be this close any longer, he reluctantly shoved to standing. “I can't stop thinking about what Taylor said about my—” He swallowed hard. “About Susannah.”

Her eyes dimmed. “What about her?”

“Instead of staying home, I left her alone to track outlaws. What does that say about my character? My priorities?” Slapping his hat against his thigh, he tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Taylor said she didn't have relatives nearby. I don't know how long she suffered before... She must've been frightened out of her mind. Do you know what the worst part is? I don't even remember what she looked like. She may as well have never existed.”

Jessica approached, her hands together in a gesture of pleading. “Don't do this to yourself, Grant.”

“I feel like a monster.”

Lying in bed last night, he'd tried to force the memories to break free of the black void, to recall Susannah's face. Her laugh. Her voice. Anything. He'd wound up with a headache the size of Mount Le Conte.

Mimicking his earlier entreaty, she laid a hand on his chest, directly over his heart. Her eyes burned with conviction. “You are the most compassionate, caring man I've ever met. You wouldn't have left her if you'd had a choice.”

He would like to think that was the case, but he couldn't know for sure. Maybe Aaron could give him insight into his marriage.

Covering her hand with his own, he rested his forehead against hers. They stood there for long moments, the trees rustling softly and the trickling water echoing through the forest.

Jessica pulled away first. “I don't think we should see each other again,” she said in a thick voice.

While he could see the wisdom of her words, his entire being rebelled. He wanted to fill every minute remaining with her. Pack moments and memories into these last days before he returned to Virginia.

In the end, he accepted what was best for her.

“I'd like to say goodbye before I leave town,” he managed at last.

Nodding, she worried her lower lip as she gazed beyond his shoulder. “Okay.”

Jessica walked away then, and he let her.

* * *

Three days had passed since she'd told Grant to leave her alone. Three interminable, horrible, miserable days. Knowing he was working and sleeping a couple of miles away made the separation tougher to bear. Several times she'd been tempted to go to him. To toss aside her pride and common sense and beg him to stay.

Thankfully, she'd risen above the momentary weakness and logic had prevailed.

He was a marshal with responsibilities elsewhere. He had friends in government positions. Why, he could very well be acquainted with the nation's president, Grover Cleveland! What made her think he'd give up such an honorable, glamorous life to be with her, a mountain girl with poor judgment and who associated with criminals?

Tuning out the hustle and bustle of the mercantile's patrons, she slid the last cake into the glass case and closed the lid. Five cakes of different heights and flavors occupied the case. She'd tucked handwritten description cards in front of each one. Business had been steady. Nothing had gone to waste, which was an aggravation of hers and something she'd fretted over when trying to decide whether or not to launch this venture. God had blessed her efforts. Once again, she had a steady income to help with expenses.

Satisfied everything was in order, she straightened, her gaze settling on a gentleman in the corner. Only his jet-black hair was visible from this angle, but he looked too much like her brother-in-law for it to be a coincidence. But what was Evan doing in Gatlinburg?

Her last conversation with Juliana filtering through her mind, she rounded the counter, dodging customers to reach him.”

* * *

“Evan?”

Replacing the handsaw on the shelf, he turned and acknowledged her with a smile at odds with the caution in his larkspur-blue eyes. “Jessica. How are you?”

She accepted his hug. “I didn't realize you were planning a visit. Are Juliana and the kids with you?”

Tugging on his collar, he shook his head. “No. They're at home. This was a spur-of-the-moment visit, actually.”

Crossing her arms, she leveled a meaningful stare at him. To her knowledge, he'd never made the trip alone. “What are you here for?”

“Business.”

He didn't hesitate. Nor did he look guilty. She knew, however, that Evan Harrison was adept at subterfuge. After all, he'd infiltrated a gang of outlaws in search of his brother's murderer and even convinced Juliana that he was one.