The Welcome Home Garden Club (21 page)

Fear was a living thing in her chest. He wasn’t awake, she realized. In his sleep, he’d pulled a gun on her.

She stayed frozen, terrified to move, terrified to set him off, terrified to even try to wake him. Sweat dripped off her forehead, rolled down her nose. She couldn’t stay like this. The gun in her face, Gideon’s vacant expression sending her gut into spasms.

“Gideon,” she finally whispered. “Wake up, it’s me, Caitlyn.”

“Mom?”

Oh Jesus, Danny was awake!

“Shh, honey, don’t move.”

“Mom.” His voice was high and reedy. “How come Gideon’s holding a gun?”

“He’s asleep. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Fear was a metal taste in her mouth. Her bones were like rubber.

“Gideon,” Danny said sharply, “wake up.”

Caitlyn gasped, sucked in her breath, held it.

Gideon’s eyes snapped fully open. He stared at her, stared at Danny, stared at the gun in his hand. His mouth fell open. Realization dawned in his eyes.

He flung the gun away from them. Leaped from the bed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh Caitlyn, I’m sorry.”

“Get it out of my house. Get it out now!” she commanded, pointing at the gun lying on her rug.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He stabbed his feet into his shoes.

Danny sat on the bed looking nervous.

“You don’t have to go, just get rid of the gun. Why do you have a gun?”

“I’m a soldier, Caitlyn. Soldiers have guns.”

“Not anymore you’re not. You’re a carpenter and artist with wood. You don’t need a gun.”

He snatched up the gun, stuck it in his waistband. Shadows covered his face. He looked as gaunt and haunted as she felt. “I’ll come back later for my things.”

“Where are you going in the middle of the night?”

“I’ll find a motel, don’t worry.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“I do. I can’t believe . . .” He swallowed, paled. “I can’t believe I did that to you.”

“I wasn’t hurt. You didn’t hurt me.”

“No, but I could have . . . I—” He had no words left. She could see it in his face. He was torn apart by what he had done and he’d had no control of it.

Then he turned and was gone, fleeing out into the night. After the kitchen door slammed behind him, she heard his motorcycle roar to life, drive away.

“Mom?” Danny said. “What happened?”

She sat down beside him, put her arm over his shoulder, and quietly told him as best she could in language he would understand why Gideon was the way he was.

“I like Gideon. Will he ever come back?”

Feeling wretched to her core, she ruffled her son’s hair. “I don’t know, honey, I just don’t know.”

C
aitlyn had seen his monster and she’d been horrified. Just as he knew she would be. She was too innocent, too pure to handle the darkness inside him. Gideon didn’t blame her. He understood. He had no place here with her and Danny. No place in polite society.

What disturbed him most was the thought that he’d frightened her, that she was scared of him. He was capable of violence. He had harmed people in the name of his country. In the pursuit of duty.

And he could do it again if he had to in order to protect his family.

Except they weren’t his family. Not really. Yes, he might be Danny’s biological father and he’d lived with Caitlyn for the past few weeks as if they were husband and wife, but he had just been playing at happily-ever-after.

He’d known all along that he would taint it, ruin it. How stupid of him to dream that things could be different. He was who he was and he couldn’t change the fact.

Let them go.

It was the only honorable thing to do.

Gideon rode his motorcycle down the silent streets of Twilight, not really sure where he was headed until he got there. The Rocking J Ranch. He did not drive down to the house where Bowie lived, but parked the motorcycle on the side of the road and sat staring at it in the moonlight.

The house was huge, a sprawling ranch-style house with Spanish architecture and a tile roof. As soon as the probate was settled, if he inherited the place, he was going to deed it to Caitlyn. She could keep it or sell it, whatever she wanted to do. He breathed a deep sigh, part relief that the decision was made, part bone-deep regret that he’d let his dark side ruin everything.

Cattle grazed in the fields in the moonlight. Ghostly shapes of a heritage that he had no right to claim.

Now, he was in exile.

He was glad now that he hadn’t told Caitlyn that he loved her with all his heart. He’d almost told her during those two magical days when they’d made love almost nonstop. He knew he would never love another the way he loved her.

He had to leave. It would be selfish to stay when he’d brought so much damage and danger into their lives.

But what if you could change? Don’t you want to change? For them? For yourself?

He did. He wanted to be well and whole and healed, but it wasn’t possible. He’d tried and failed.

And then, he remembered that night at the Horny Toad Tavern when Hondo had told him he would help him if he ever needed it. Gideon knew Hondo was someone who could understand. He’d been where Gideon had been and yet, he’d come out of it. He’d survived.

God, he did not want to go. More than anything in the world he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t stay. Not this way.

A twinge clutched him. Love knocking on the door of his heart. Open up and let it in. But how did a guy who’d never really belonged to anyone, never really fit anyplace, do that? The only place he’d ever really felt at home was with the Green Berets, and he’d lost that forever. Here, in Twilight, he felt adrift and he knew it was his own fault.

Danny and Caitlyn were both waiting to love him. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. Could tell from Danny’s eager smile that he was willing to give Gideon a chance.

He got on his motorcycle and drove, and when he reached the house on the lake, he got out and walked to the front porch. Knocked hard. A few minutes later, the door opened and there stood Hondo in his pajamas.

Gideon looked at him with utter despair and said two simple words. “Help me.”

Chapter Nineteen

Traditional meaning of gladiolus—strength of character.

H
ondo’s plan was simple. No drinking, which was no real problem for Gideon. Hard work. The carousel restoration covered that. Take relationships slow. He realized he and Caitlyn had made love too soon. They’d jumped into the thick of the fairy tale without being fully prepared for the reality.

“You need to romance her,” Hondo told him. “Do all the things you two never got to do before. Go slow. Make this the best time of your lives.”

“I can do that. But how will I know when I’m ready? When it’s right to take that next step with Caitlyn?”

“Your heart will tell. You’ll know when it’s right.”

“That’s pretty vague.”

“Trust. Just trust. And when something is bothering you, don’t keep it bottled up. Head on over to the VFW hall. Everyone there knows what you’re going through. You’re not alone, Gideon. We’re here for you.”

That was going to be a challenge. Opening up to others. But it was a necessary step. It was the main thing he neglected and he knew it. He also turned his gun over to Hondo. If he was going to live a life without violence, he had to lay down his weapons and let down his guard.

“Trust doesn’t happen overnight,” Hondo said. “But that’s okay. Nothing wrong with taking your time.”

He took back his old room at the Merry Cherub and spent his days in a labor of love on the carousel. On Sundays, he went to church with Caitlyn and Danny and her father. He sat beside them in the pew and sang from the same hymnal and then he went back to his room at the bed-and-breakfast, and slowly, he stopped feeling weird and out of place.

And as the victory garden grew, so too did the quiet bond now building between him and Caitlyn. A bond born of the present, no longer bound by the ghosts of their past.

A month went by. In the garden, the flowers and herbs and vegetables and fruit flourished while one by one he restored the carousel animals. And in all that time, Gideon did not have a single nightmare.

That’s when he realized the healing had truly begun.

C
aitlyn missed Gideon more than she could say, but she understood what he was doing and why and she admired him all the more for having the courage to stay in Twilight and face his demons head-on. Besides, she could see him every day from the window of her flower shop, hard at work on the carousel. In the evenings, she’d bring Danny with her and they’d all toil together with their friends and neighbors, the entire community building the most romantic garden in the state of Texas.

One day in early May, just before the annual Spring Fling Festival, as Caitlyn returned from the grocery store, an odd sensation made the hairs on the back of her neck crawl, and something struck her as wrong.

She pulled into the driveway. Danny was in the backseat playing a video game. She killed the engine and got out, her gaze scanning her acre lot, wondering what had triggered her cautious instincts.

And then she saw that the door to the chicken run stood wide open.

Her heart somersaulted. “Stay in the car,” she told Danny, and took off toward the chicken pen at a trot.

The chickens were nowhere to be seen, but overhead, she heard the
kree, kree, kree
of a hawk.

“Chick, chicks!” she called, her stomach tightening. “Chick, chicks!”

But they didn’t come running to her call as they normally did.

Kree, kree
. The hawk’s lazy shadow circled the yard.

Caitlyn raised her fist at the hawk. “You bastard, if you killed my chickens . . .”

“What is it, Mom?” Danny was standing beside her looking concerned.

“Did you open the door to the chicken run?”

Solemnly, he shook his head.

Then who did? The uneasiness that had gripped her when she’d come up the driveway took hold of her again. “Sweetheart, run on over to Dr. Sam’s house and see if we can borrow Patches. The chickens have obviously gone into hiding with the hawks on the loose.”

“Okay.” He tucked his Game Boy in his back pocket and started off at a trot. Sam and Emma and Charlie lived on the next block over. Their Border collie, Patches, had won awards for his herding abilities. He could round up the chickens in no time.

If there were any chickens to round up.

Her throat tightened. It might seem silly to some people, but she loved her chickens and it hurt her when something happened to them. She thought of the three little dead Buff Orpingtons she’d found last fall, not much more than a big pile of feathers once the hawks were done with them. It was just right after Kevin’s death, and coming on the heels of that, it had really upset her.

While Danny was gone, Caitlyn went to the garden, still calling, “Chick, chick, chick,” hoping against hope they were in there eating up her strawberries, but it was a futile effort.

The hawks kept circling, mocking. Dread took hold of her. She sank her hands on her hips. “Good thing for you it’s against the law to shoot hawks.”

Kree, kree.

Nature was a bitch. Caitlyn walked along the honeysuckle thicket growing against the fence on the far side of the chicken run. She heard some rustling in the underbrush, and her spirits soared. “Chick, chick. Chick, chick.” She clucked her tongue.

A bold Buffy stuck her head from the undergrowth, and relief loosened Caitlyn’s limbs. She thought about going to get some feed, to try and coax them back into the run, but with the hawks out, she was afraid to leave them exposed in the distance between the thicket and the door. She’d wait for Danny and Patches. Surely, the hawks wouldn’t try to dive in with all three of them there to shepherd the poultry.

A couple of minutes later, Danny returned not only with Patches, but with Dr. Sam Cheek as well.

“I hear the hawks are giving you fits,” Sam said.

“The chickens more than me.”

“Patches will have them rounded up in nothing flat,” he assured her.

“Thank you so much.”

Sam blew a whistle that only the Border collie could hear. The dog immediately sprang into action, running along the fencerow, low and focused. When he approached the honeysuckle, it exploded with movement. Chickens all running full-out for their pen. By the time Caitlyn got to the enclosure, the chickens were inside and Patches was looking at Sam as if to say,
That’s it? That’s all I get to do?

Caitlyn did a quick head count and realized one was missing. The one that always stood out in the crowd. Her little Faverolles.

“Collette’s not here.” She tried to keep the alarm from her voice, but already tears were pushing at the backs of her eyes.
No, please, not Collette.
Unlike the Buffies that she’d gotten from the chicken rescue, she’d raised Collette from an egg. Remembered when she was a tiny chick that could fit in the palm of her hand.

“Not Collette,” she whispered.

Sam put a hand on her arm. “Don’t fret yet.” To his dog, he said, “Patches, find it.”

Patches sprang into action again, going back to the honeysuckle thicket, sniffing and sniffing. He sat down, barked sharply.

Caitlyn looked to Sam, saw the bad news in his eyes.

She didn’t want her son to see this. “Danny, honey, could you please go unload the groceries from the car?”

“What about Collette?”

“Dr. Sam and I will find her. You go on.”

Danny looked reluctant, but he went. The second her son was out of sight, Caitlyn was on her knees, beside Patches, pushing aside the honeysuckle to find Collette. When she saw the blood her heart skipped a bit and she felt a sickness settle inside her. Yes, it was just a chicken, but she couldn’t help how she felt. The intense feeling of loss. Dammit, she’d lost so damn much in her life. Not Collette too.

She reached in and gently drew the chicken from the undergrowth. Collette’s body was still warm.

And then she felt her move.

Collette wasn’t dead!

Don’t get your hopes up. She could be mortally wounded
. That thought made her feel worse. She didn’t want Collette to suffer.

Kree, kree, kree
mocked the hawk. Bitches.

Sam reached out to take Collette from her. The chicken opened her eyes, blinked at them.

Gently, he ran his fingers over her body. “The hawk got hold of her, that much is clear. She’s missing a lot of tail feathers and she’s bleeding, but she must have somehow managed to get away and into the thicket before the hawk could do major damage, but chickens go into shock really easily.”

As he spoke, Collette shook her head, flapped her wings.

Joy sent Caitlyn’s hopes soaring.

“I’ll take her to the clinic and keep her for a few hours just to make sure she’s okay.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much, Sam.”

“No problem.” Sam gently tucked Collette into the crook of his arm, whistled to Patches, and started off down the road. He’d just left and Caitlyn was closing the door to the chicken run when Gideon drove up on his motorcycle. He cut the engine, took off his helmet, walked over to where she stood, shoulder sagging against the pen.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice dark with concern.

She waved at the sky but the hawks had dispersed, apparently getting the picture that their murderous intentions had been successfully thwarted. “A hawk got hold of Collette.”

“Your favorite hen.”

Caitlyn nodded, feeling the knot of tears rise up in her throat again.

“But how? Your enclosure is solid.”

“When Danny and I got back from the grocery store, the door to the run was standing open.”

“Could you have left it open this morning after you fed them?”

“Never.”

“Could Danny have opened it?”

“He says he didn’t.” Her eyes met his.

He stepped to the door. Examined the latch. She’d put on both a hinge lock and triple wooden block closures because raccoons were notoriously clever about undoing locks. And with all the big wooded lots in the area, and the lake nearby, her neighborhood was primo real estate for raccoons.

“It didn’t come open accidentally,” he said.

“No,” she agreed.

“Someone opened it.”

“Looks like.”

“But who?”

“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.”

Gideon pressed his lips together and a frown creased his brow. She knew what he was thinking.

“Bowie Goodnight,” she said, and he didn’t deny it.

C
ollette made a complete recovery, and that weekend was the Spring Fling. Saturday dawned sunny and warm, but not unbearably hot as it could often be during May in North Central Texas.

Caitlyn got up and made breakfast for Danny. Oatmeal with bananas and walnuts in it. Something substantial to counter the junk she knew he was going to want to eat. Cotton candy and funnel cakes. Fried chicken and steak on a stick. Corn on the cob and hot dogs.

She showered while Danny fed the chickens and gathered eggs. She hoped to see Gideon there. He’d said he might drop by the festival and she wanted to look good in case he did. She tried on several outfits but finally decided on a pastel green dress with a floral pattern of gladiolus. It had a flared skirt and a form-fitting bodice.

She’d lost a few pounds since Kevin had died and her breasts didn’t quite fill out the cup, but the scoop neckline showed off just the right amount of cleavage. She wore the dress with a pair of espadrilles and pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail. Then she added a little blush to her cheeks, some lip gloss, and mascara.

She and Danny walked to the town square where everything was already in high gear. He was so excited. “Wow, Mom, look. Face painting. Can I get Spider-Man painted on my face?”

“You sure you want to go around like that all day?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded.

“All right.” She handed him five dollars and he zoomed off to the face-painting kiosk to be turned into a superhero.

“You look beautiful.”

She turned her head and saw Gideon standing behind her. He looked pretty darn good himself. He’d gotten his hair trimmed and it lay down for once.

His gaze caressed her, slipping from her eyes to her mouth and then a quick peek at her cleavage before meeting her eyes again. Caitlyn couldn’t help smiling. He’d noticed.

“Nice dress.”

“Thank you.” She ducked her head, felt her cheeks heat the way they had the first time he’d asked her out. It had been at a street fair much like this one. Twilight was always having one kind of street fair or another. Every month there was something planned to draw tourists to their town.

She could tell he was trying hard to be normal and she wondered what was normal for him. She imagined it couldn’t be easy for him. Going from the tense, action-packed situation in the Middle East to a Saturday stroll around the square. She’d heard about vets who were so geared up to danger and action that they had trouble assimilating into a normal life. The pace was too slow for them. Too regular. Too routine. They’d been conditioned to live on the edge, and an average existence was too boring. Was that why he’d stayed in Afghanistan after he’d been injured? Was that why he’d never come home before?

He didn’t come home because he didn’t think you wanted him
.

She bit down on her bottom lip as sadness washed over her. She hated to think of it. Him in a foreign country, wounded and alone, believing she’d forsaken him. While she’d been here believing he was dead. So much sorrow.

But the sorrow was gone now and regret wouldn’t change things. She resolved to enjoy the moment. It was all anybody really had.

They stood to one side, watching their son getting his face painted red and blue. Their son. They could be a family. Longing pure and raw arrowed through her heart. She wanted that more than she could say. She slipped a hand around Gideon’s waist.

“He’s a great kid,” Gideon said. “You’ve done a good job.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything else. He’d never been very chatty. And honestly, neither was she. In the past, they’d shared many comfortable silences. But this silence wasn’t comfortable. He was still putting up roadblocks. Boundaries she couldn’t cross, and she didn’t know how to scale them. What would it take to break through?