Authors: Emilie Richards
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life, #General, #Romance
“Kendra Taylor,” she said. “I’m a reporter at the
Post.
I met you a few years ago.”
The name clicked into place. They had been introduced at a conference or meeting of some kind, although he didn’t think much of a conversation had taken place.
“Kendra.” He shook hands and admired her. She was thin, and despite an array of freckles, she had the healthy glow and elegantly insouciant posture of a Ralph Lauren model. The dress, however, was definitely not off the rack. The paisley shawl draped around her shoulders was the best pashmina.
“I’ve thought about calling you,” she said, “but I knew you’d probably want time just to put things together on your own. We have something in common.”
“Besides the news?”
“I nearly died last year during a carjacking, and it took months to put myself and my personal life back together. Gayle knows the story.”
Now he thought he remembered Gayle mentioning Kendra. And somewhere in his mind he could picture her byline. “You live here? You cover the local news for the
Post?
”
“No, I live in Northern Virginia, but my husband and I own land nearby on a different part of the North Fork. And I’m an investigative reporter. Isaac runs a grassroots environmental organization that focuses on the health of our rivers.”
“How do you know Gayle?”
“Our land used to have an old cabin on it, but it burned down last summer. After the carjacking, I lived there by myself and attended this church. Now Isaac and I come back and stay at Daughter of the Stars whenever we can get away. We’re about to build a new house where the cabin stood, so we’ll be in and out a lot.”
Eric thought this was all very interesting, but he also thought there was more to Kendra’s seeking him out than a shared interest in journalism and Shenandoah County.
She read his expression correctly. “I went through a really tough time after the shooting. I know what it’s like to be certain you’re going to die and end up living instead. And I know how long it takes to recover.”
Now he understood. “PTSD.”
“Yeah. Bad dreams, flashbacks, irrational fears, the whole nine yards. It’s possible I’ll have some of the symptoms forever.”
“It was a little rough, but I’m doing fine.”
She didn’t smile. “I doubt it.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Because although the nightmares had diminished in intensity, he still had them. And he still felt as if his heart would stop beating when he even thought about climbing up a mountain trail or a ladder.
And he still couldn’t face thoughts of going back to the work he had loved so much.
“Sometimes it’s good to talk to somebody who really understands,” she said.
He wasn’t going to admit his fears to a stranger, but he was curious. “What was the hardest part for you?”
“That’s really a tough question, because so much was hard.” She paused to consider. “The future,” she said at last.
“What part of it?”
“Facing it. Believing I’d ever be able to move smoothly from one day to the next again. And I guess, most of all, making good decisions. Because once you’re sure your life’s about to end, it’s hard to think about the future. For a long time I felt like it was silly to plan for something that could end so abruptly. When problems in my marriage seemed overwhelming, I simply abandoned ship and came out here. Because why use energy to confront problems when everything could end like that?” She snapped her fingers.
He winced.
She looked sympathetic and lowered her voice. “There’s good news. I came out here and I started feeling better. You’ll probably meet Isaac tonight. Things are good for us again. That’s the upside of what we’ve been through. I stopped hiding, because I didn’t see anything to protect. And for whatever reason, that can be a real plus.”
He tried to put all this together. Just from looking at her, he didn’t think this was a woman who talked easily about her insights or her life. He suspected coming up to a near stranger and revealing so much had been difficult. But they were talking not as stranger to stranger but survivor to survivor. And he thought she felt duty-bound by that odd common bond to offer what she could.
“Making decisions about the future is the hardest.” The words came out of his throat, stronger than his attempt to silence them.
She didn’t look surprised. “Yes, of course. So a piece of advice? Don’t. Not until you’re ready.”
“Can you say that? After you were shot, you left your husband and came out here. That was a pretty big decision, wasn’t it?”
“But I put everything else on hold. You and I have the best excuse in the world for that. Most people will understand.”
“My bureau chief isn’t what I’d call patient. I had to tell him to take a flying…leap.”
“He’s heard it before. He’ll be back. Nobody will want to lose you.”
His next words were out before he could think them through. “I don’t know why. It’s my fault a man died.”
She clearly knew every detail, just like everyone in the business would.
“Eric, Howard Short was a big guy. I met him. He was aggressive and driven, and I’d be surprised if he let you drag him along against his better judgment.”
“You knew Howard?”
“We sat next to each other one night at an awards ceremony.”
He imagined that scene. “He propositioned you, didn’t he?”
She smiled a little. “He propositioned me.”
“That was definitely Howard.”
“I liked him anyway. He was a man who did what he wanted. If you could ask him now if risking his life was worth it? What do you think he’d say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, then what would
you
say?”
That it
had
been. Every story, every hardship, leaving his family. Even a night on a ledge when he had faced imminent death. The answer was so clear it was almost as if he heard a voice speaking in his head.
Kendra was nodding, as if she knew his thoughts. “Some jobs own you, Eric. Yours is one of them.”
He didn’t like that revelation. “Does yours own you?”
“Probably not as much as it should.”
“Be glad.”
“We are who we are.” She rested her hand on his arm. “Take it easy on yourself. And call me if you ever need to talk to somebody who stood where you’re standing. Okay?”
“I appreciate the offer.”
He watched her walk back through the crowd. A path cleared, and he saw Gayle surrounded by her friends and family. For a moment he felt as if they were all a million miles away. The question was whether he wanted to keep them there.
And the answer was that he really didn’t know.
“A birthday’s just a birthday,” Gayle’s mother said. “I’ve given up celebrating mine. I’m not sure what all this fuss is about.”
“That’s something we agree on.” Gayle sipped her second glass of chardonnay. “But it was thoughtful of you and Dad to fly in for the party.”
“Well, Eric does know how to ask nicely.” Phyllis Metzger looked fondly across the room at her ex-son-in-law. “And the fact that he did this for you says a lot, I think.”
“Don’t read anything into it. He’s doing everything he can to thank me for having him with us this summer.”
“You’re determined to make less of it than it is, aren’t you?”
Gayle was too tired to be tactful. “I’m determined to say what I think, for a change. There have to be compensations for all those years behind me.”
“Then what do you think of Eric?”
“That he doesn’t have a clue who I am.”
“Well, with that attitude—”
Gayle put her hand on her mother’s arm. “Please don’t go there. Okay? This is
my
life, and I have feelings about it. If you haven’t talked me out of them by now, it’s probably never going to happen.”
Phyllis’s eyes widened. Gayle saw confusion, then just a touch of hurt. But she didn’t apologize. It was time, past time, to level with her mother.
Instead, she squeezed her arm. “I love you, and I have only the greatest respect for you. But in this way, we’re different. I hope you’ll let us be.”
“How long have you felt like this?”
“Longer than I should have without saying something.”
Phyllis’s eyes softened. “I’ve just tried to protect you.”
Gayle supposed in a way it was true, but bulletproofing a heart had too many side effects. She was tired of them.
“I’m going to have to find my own ways to do that,” she said. “After all, you taught me to be independent.”
“You were always independent, Gayle. But too starry-eyed. I just worried you’d be hurt.”
Gayle leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for that.”
The band had been playing something lyrical and relatively soft. That ended, and suddenly they swung into “Happy Birthday.”
The crowd began to sing, and Gayle glued on a smile and nodded her thanks.
When the band fell silent, somebody rapped a spoon against a glass to quiet the crowd. Gayle steeled herself for what was about to happen.
Sam stepped up in front of the band. Elisa, who was standing beside him, caught Gayle’s eye and winked.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” Sam said when it was quiet enough. “Eric Fortman and the Fortman boys asked me to say a few words. Now, I know Gayle rather well. She more or less runs the church, and we all do what she says. But not because we’re afraid of her. Because she has the best judgment and ability to help us see reason of any deacon I’ve come across in my ministry.”
Everybody laughed. Gayle wanted to sink through the floor.
“So I know Gayle, and I can tell you without having asked her that she finds being in the limelight excruciating. Gayle’s one of those people who works behind the scenes and prefers to stay there. So let’s have one round of applause for the woman with the birthday, then we’ll take her off the hot seat and let her enjoy the party. Gayle, we’re all so glad we know you.”
Everyone began to clap. Gayle gave an embarrassed wave, then ducked her head. But as she did, she said a prayer of thanksgiving that Sam understood her so well, and that he, not Eric or anyone else, had been elected to pay tribute.
The band struck up a bluegrass selection Gayle had heard before, and despite herself, she had to smile.
“I Just Don’t Look Good Naked Anymore.”
She hoped the song was a little premature.
“Darling, I don’t want to know if that song’s true or not, but I’m betting you’re not quite old enough to worry,” Phyllis said. “At least you still look great with your clothes on.”
They were laughing when Travis and Carin approached. Until now, Gayle had only seen them from a distance, but they looked contented in each other’s company. She shook Carin’s hand and kissed Travis’s cheek. Then she introduced Carin to her mother.
Phyllis made polite conversation with Carin, and while she did, Travis pulled Gayle to one side and gave her a colorful envelope. “Happy birthday.”
“Shall I open it now?”
“Go ahead.”
She took out the card, which was gently humorous, and smiled at the message. Then she saw what was folded inside.
“Travis. What a perfect gift.” She kissed his cheek again. “But I wasn’t expecting anything. You know that.”
“Then think of these as a thank-you for all your hard work this summer.”
The gift was five tickets to a concert at the summer music festival in nearby Orkney Springs. Travis knew how much she loved music. The gift was perfect. They could take a picnic, make a night of it.
“You’ll come?” she asked.
“No, it’s for you and your family.”
He had automatically included Eric. She laughed a little. “Oh no, please come. Eric is bored silly at concerts. We’ll both be grateful.”
Phyllis interrupted. “Gayle, did you know this young lady is newly engaged?”
For a moment Gayle couldn’t think what to say. She was surprised Travis hadn’t told her his plans, but then, why should he? He had a life. They were friends, but with that designation came a measure of privacy. And hadn’t she been warned? They’d talked about the way their lives were changing and, with that, their friendship.
Now she was embarrassed that she’d insisted he come to the concert with her family. To make up for it, she took Carin’s left hand, which sported a small ruby. “Carin, what a lovely ring.”
“Ray knows I’m not much for diamonds. It
is
pretty, isn’t it?”
She had been about to offer her congratulations to Carin and Travis. Now, for the second time in less than a minute, Gayle didn’t know what to say. Seconds passed.
“Ray?” she asked after she’d recovered a little.
“Ray Jorgenson, my fiancé. Gayle, haven’t you met Ray? Hasn’t Travis mentioned we’re a couple? He and Travis are cohorts.”
“Ray’s an archaeologist with the Virginia Department of Historic Resources,” Travis explained. “I introduced him to Carin at a meeting of the Archaeological Society of Virginia. I think you met him at my house last year.”