Along the Broken Road (26 page)

“No,” she whispered back.

He continued on, talking softly, the drone of his voice a vibration against her. “I never knew there were so many shades of brown and red. Like layers and layers of painted cardboard all piled on one another and cut with a jagged blade. It’s beautiful.”

She mumbled something in reply, but Ian didn’t try to decipher. If he had any hope of surviving this night, he needed her to fall asleep.

“The water at the base of the canyon is so clear and smooth you’d swear it’s glass.”

Her breathing was slow now, deeper.

Ian pulled his hand through her hair again, this time tuning in to the sheer feel of soft, silken strands gliding over his fingers, against the delicate skin on his palm, sifting over the webs between each digit. And he wanted this. Forever. He wanted for her to fall asleep the same way every night, locked in his arms where she was truly at home. But Ian had promises to keep. First to Major Mack. Second to himself.

He went on talking. “When the sun rises, it’s like you’re watching the world being painted. Color bursts from where there’d been darkness. Light shines into the canyon, bouncing off the water beneath.”

Charlee nuzzled deeper into Ian. When she spoke, her voice was groggy, filled with sleep already. “Will you take me there?”

He dropped his lips to the side of her head. “One day.” And he closed his eyes because he knew it was a promise he might or might not be able to keep. And that all depended on what Charlee did in the next few days.

CHAPTER 16

Though Wynona wasn’t supposed to be visiting Mr. Gruber, she’d slipped in a side door, bribed the nurse with a pair of bling-y sunglasses, and now she stood sentry outside the room of the man she loved. She supposed the hospital security guards could try to make her leave, but she’d seen one of them as she’d entered and figured if need be, she could take him. He weighed less than her and was stuffing his face with a chocolate-covered donut. Plus, she’d have the element of surprise. Wynona had never been afraid of going after what she wanted. Raised in a generation when girls were expected to be demure, she’d discovered quiet reserve had never won any contests and sedate behavior was highly overrated.

A nurse paused at her feet, and Wynona glanced up. She had two choices—give her the sweet-little-old-lady look. Or the don’t-mess-with-a-woman-in-love look. She opted for the latter.

The nurse shook her head and disappeared. If she was calling donut-guard, Wynona was ready. But to her surprise, the nurse came back into the hall dragging a chair.

Wynona gave her a smile and mouthed, “Thank you.”

The nurse shot a look down each direction of the hall then leaned toward her. “He’s bound to come to his senses soon. He’s got too many people here who love him.”

Wynona nodded.

The woman disappeared and Wynona watched her round the corner. When she did, she saw another woman standing, almost hesitating, at the end of the corridor. Long dark hair lay over her shoulders and spilled along her collarbone. A deep-red briefcase-looking purse was clutched in front of her and instantly Wynona knew this was Arnold’s daughter.

Her shoulders rose and fell in a deep motion and she started moving in Wynona’s direction, feet clopping on the hospital floor. The sound bounced like a beacon, conveying intention, purpose. This woman wasn’t planning to stay long. She had the distinct posture of a frightened cat ready to shoot off at any moment.

Wynona rose as the woman neared her. “You’re Ashley, aren’t you?”

She blinked with confusion, casting a look behind Wynona to her father’s room. “Yes.”

Wynona shoved a hand out toward her. “My name is Wynona. I stay at the retreat where your father’s been living. I’m so glad to meet you.”

Perfectly manicured hands and a perfectly fitting blouse and skirt all seemed out of place with the woman who was so uncomfortable. “I was leaving town when the doctor called.”

Wynona’s hand went directly to her heart, where fear rushed into her like hot acid.

Noticing her reaction, Ashley put out a steadying hand. “No, there’s nothing wrong. He just . . . explained to me that when someone comes out of heart surgery, their temperament can be affected. He also told me my dad had called out my name in the middle of the night.” The lovely woman with the giant dark eyes threw out a breath. “You’re a friend of his?”

Wynona smiled. “Yes. A close friend.”

Ashley reached a trembling hand to her head, dragged her fingers through the strands, messing up the perfect tresses. “What’s he like?”

Wynona’s heart broke for her. Right then and there. “He’s a very good man, Ashley.”

When the same nurse appeared with a second chair, Wynona motioned for Ashley to sit.

“He’s giving, caring. He’d go any distance to help a friend. But he’s no pushover. Intelligent. And . . .”

Ashley leaned forward. “And?”

Wynona looked away when she said it. “Lonely.”

If the words were meant to melt Ashley’s heart a little, Wynona figured they’d had the opposite effect. “Well, that was his choice, not mine.”

“It must have been very hard to lose your mother.”

Ashley settled her hands on her lap, bag tightly gripped like a life preserver. “I was seventeen. It nearly killed us both.”

Wynona reached over and patted her hand. “I lost my husband. We’d been together since junior high school.”

Ashley shot a sharp look to her. “My parents were together since they were twelve years old, neighbors, grew up together. They were older when they had me. In their late forties.”

She needed to be careful how she worded this. “What did your father do to push you away?”

Ashley’s gaze fell to the tiled floor. “Everything. He started drinking. At first, he still tried to be a father, but the more he drank, the worse it got. My mother’s life insurance policy was supposed to be set aside for my education. I’ve always wanted to be an attorney. He spent it. Every dime.”

Wynona reached over again, this time leaving her hand on Ashley’s. “Oh dear.”

“I was still hurting. I needed a parent. When my mom died, I lost both of them.”

“Yes. I can see that you did.”

Ashley turned to stare at her for a long time. And Wynona realized the young woman was wondering how she could be so sympathetic to Ashley when her loyalty should be with Ashley’s father. “What, dear?” Wynona shrugged. “I’m not going to make excuses for the man. What he did was wrong. Utterly wrong. There’s no excuse for it.”

Ashley opened her perfectly lined red lips to speak, but nothing came out.

Wynona raised and dropped her shoulders again. “People always try to tell you he was in pain, he was hurting, don’t they?”

She jerked a nod, face unreadable except for the frown furrowing an otherwise smooth brow. “I’ve heard excuses from the whole world. But it doesn’t help. I’ve read books on grieving, read books on alcoholism. I have a lot of knowledge, but no closure.”

“Maybe the books and the words don’t have what you need.”

Ashley took her time staring into the room where her father lay, practically swallowed by the bed. Arms at his sides, needles protruding like he were some kind of science experiment. “It hurts to see him like this,” she whispered. “How can it hurt when I hate him so much?”

Wynona’s hand brushed back and forth over Ashley’s. “Because you still love him. Not because he deserves it. Not because he was the model father, but just because you love him and nothing can change that.”

A fat tear rolled down Ashley’s cheek. She didn’t bother to brush it away. “I don’t want to love him.”

Wynona nodded. “Understandably.”

“I had to do everything on my own. At eighteen I moved out. I worked my way through law school; I’m raising my daughter alone. And I don’t think I can forgive him.”

Wynona sighed. “Unforgiveness. It’s such a poison. Tell me, Ashley, if you could just go on with your life without ever seeing him again, could you do it?”

She thought before answering. “Yes. I really believe I could.”

Wynona smiled. “Well, if you have that kind of power, you certainly have the power to forgive him.”

Ashley’s face paled as she digested the words. She pointed to the room. “He won’t even see me.”

Wynona waved a hand through the air. “Oh poo. Who cares what he wants. This isn’t about him; it’s about you. And your daughter.”

The confusion on the younger woman’s face made Wynona bite back a smile. “So, go off to your big city job and forget about him for a while.”

Ashley gave her a frown and Wynona was pretty certain the woman was judging her mental stability.

Wynona stood. “Go off.” She shooed her up out of the chair.

Ashley staggered to a standing position.

Wynona pressed her lips together. “Perhaps you could come back in six months or a year.”

Ashley shook her head as if to clear it.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” She grabbed Ashley’s hand and started dragging her along. At the end of the hallway she stopped. “He was a good father before your mother died?”

A sad smile touched her face. “A great father.”

“Hmm.” She walked on. At the front door, she stopped again. “I suppose you’d love to have that man back in your life?”

Ashley scrounged around in her bag for the keys. “Yes.”

“He’s been sober for eight years,” Wynona said as she followed her to her car.

Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t tried to contact me in those eight years.”

Wynona tapped a finger to her mouth. “No. I suppose he didn’t trust himself to stay sober. I guess a good man wouldn’t drag his family into his battle with alcoholism if he thought he could protect them by staying away.”

Ashley pressed a button on her key fob, even though the door handle was right beside her. She opened her mouth to say something, but Wynona cut her off.

“You should be on your way. Have a safe trip.”

Ashley stood looking at her like she couldn’t decide if she was friend or foe. Was she helping her dad’s case or hurting it? “It was nice to talk to you.” It was more question than answer and Wynona was pleased with herself.

“Hope we meet again.” She turned, started walking away, counted to three and spun back around. Yep. Ashley was standing right there, one foot propped in the car doorway, hand on the door. “By the way, before you leave town, there’s something I think you should see.”

Ashley’s gaze narrowed.

“It won’t take but a few minutes.” Sweet-little-old-lady smile would do nicely here. But when she saw the fight-or-flight look enter Ashley’s eyes, Wynona knew she couldn’t mess this up. She moved quickly to the opposite side of Ashley’s car and slid, uninvited, into the passenger’s seat.

Rather than sit in the driver’s seat, Ashley bent at the waist and stared down at her.

Wynona rubbed her hands over her thighs. “Oh. Well, I need to get back and since you’re going that way.”

Ashley got in quietly. “I think I’d rather not go. I’d be happy to get you a cab.”

Wynona’s chin tilted back slightly; if the hotshot attorney wanted a battle of wits, she better be armed. Wynona wasn’t likely to go down without a fight. She heaved a breath. “A cab? That would be fine.” She placed a hand on the door handle and Ashley seemed to sigh in relief. “But, I just wonder how much it’s going to drive you crazy not knowing.”

Again, the giant brown eyes narrowed to slits and Wynona figured big-city lawyers on the other side of the table from Ashley Gruber were desperately outmatched. But there were few powers on the planet stronger than life experience.

“Ashley,” Wynona’s tone changed to motherly. She never felt particularly good at that voice, but it forced Ashley’s eyes and attention. “You
need
to come with me.”

Keys slid into the ignition. A stiletto-heeled foot pressed the brake pedal. Gearshift slipped into reverse, and there they were, backing out then headed in the direction of the retreat.

Ian and Charlee broke camp at daybreak.

She had a headache, her stomach hurt, and she was embarrassed at the fool she’d made of herself. She watched Ian kick dirt onto the embers of a long-gone fire. “I think the rain did the trick.” She had to wonder how much was nervous energy. He seemed filled with it this morning.

“I just don’t want to take any chances.” His gaze leveled on her as if there was more to his words than their surface meaning.

“Smokey Bear would be proud.”

“We still need to talk, Charlee. I wasn’t kidding last night.”

She sidestepped the fire and stopped at his feet. “I’ve been doing some thinking about that. And I’ve decided I don’t want to talk about it.” Why should she? Make a promise knowing she couldn’t . . . wouldn’t keep it.

“What makes you so stubborn?” He moved forward until the tips of his boots bumped hers.

“The same thing that keeps me alive.” She didn’t back down, didn’t flinch. If Ian thought some magical promise could keep her from diving off the deep end headfirst, he was dead wrong.

He turned away from her.

She tromped around him and faced him again. “Don’t you think I’ve made those kinds of promises to myself? Over and over and over again? To the people who care about me? I just let them down, Ian. Every time.”

“But it’s different now.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not. I love you. You love me and that is incredible. But if you really believe one spoken promise is going to magically make this monster disappear, you’re more gullible than I would have thought.”

It burned. She could see it in his eyes. But what could she do? “Let’s go home,” she said, and turned away to head to her Jeep before he could stop her.

Ian’s heart felt like a giant empty hole in his chest. By noon, he was placing clothes in his bag and gathering his belongings. He knew the inevitable and though on every level he’d let the major down, this was the one place he wouldn’t. He pulled the journal from the drawer and opened it to the last page. It was cryptic, in a sense, and made him think of stories of people who knew their own deaths were imminent. It was the only page Charlee hadn’t read. It was the last hope of her coming to her senses.
Teach her how to stop running
. That had been Major Mack’s plea. He hadn’t asked Ian to be there with her. To protect her. He asked him to teach her. Like Major Mack had taught him so many things. Ian was in tears by the time he finished reading. He used the back of his hand to swipe away the streams of moisture on his face. He’d talk to Charlee, then go see Gruber—whether the old man liked it or not—then, if Charlee didn’t relent, he’d ride to Oklahoma.