Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) (33 page)

This time of year, there were no tourists. And very few residents remained. It was exactly what I needed to lick my wounds and have myself a grand pity party. No, I’m not proud of that.
But it is what it is
. Unable to face anyone at the moment, I entered my small abode. It was a bit dusty and needed to be aired out. Definite must. I began to open some windows, and then quickly realized I should light a fire. Good, gathering firewood kept my mind off things—
for a little while, at least.

As the fire raged, so did my emotions. I ran the gamut from anger to sorrow; finally, grief overtook me. My biggest regret: I wasn’t carrying Nik’s baby. I knew it was impossible since I was taking a birth control shot, but, still, I felt the loss of what could’ve been. For about a week or so, I did nothing but cry. Not sure I ever ate or truly rested. I would sob myself into a stupor, and then wake to do it all again. My whole world had ceased to exist. There was no point to any of it anymore.

*****

Honestly, devastation almost won until the sweet, elderly lady down the road paid me a visit one afternoon. To say I was in no mood for company would’ve been a vast understatement. However, I shuffled to the door and answered the incessant knocking. And to this day, I would forever be grateful for the angel here on earth by the name of Nan. If I had known how short my time with her was going to be, I would have spent every second possible with her. Have you ever met someone like that? A kindred spirit I believe was what they were called. My only solace was that someday I would see her again as we walked the streets in heaven.

Some snow blew in, blinding me for a moment, when I answered the door. Once it had cleared, an older woman stood there with a basket in hand.

“Hello, honey,” she greeted. “I’m sorry it has taken me so long to make it up here.” She put the handle in my hand. “I made these for you. Oh, goodness, where are my manners?” She held out her other hand to me. “I’m Nan—your closest neighbor.”

I shook the proffered hand and introduced myself. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Nan. I’m Aimee.”

“Just Nan. May I come in?” she asked as the cold and snow caused her to tremble.

“Oh, dear, of course. I’m so sorry.” I held the door wide for her to enter.

She took in the sight before her with kind eyes. Needless to say, I hadn’t exactly been keeping a clean house. I quickly tried to tidy-up, but she stilled my busy hands. “Honey, I don’t mind a bit of mess. It’s what makes you real. Please, don’t feel like you need to clean for me,” she said gently. “Besides, I came to visit
you
, not the cabin.”

I nodded, fighting back tears. One would think I’d have been tapped out at that point. “May I get you something to drink?”

She smiled, “Coffee or tea would be wonderful.”

After I made us both some herbal tea, we sat by the fire to enjoy each other’s company. Curiosity had the best of me, so I peeked into the basket to find homemade muffins and cookies. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me I hadn’t been taking very good care of myself lately.

Nan urged, “Please, help yourself.”

I politely laid the goodies aside, and did my best not to scarf down the treats. “Delicious,” I praised once I gobbled a wonderful cranberry and pumpkin muffin.

She offered another as soon as I finished, and I gladly accepted.

We sat and made small talk for a while, getting to know one another. I really liked her spunk. If I had memories of a grandmother, she would’ve been just like Nan. I unfortunately never had a chance to meet either one of mine. They had both passed away by the time I had been born. What I loved most about older women was how they spoke their minds no matter what. Nan was no exception. “So, what did
he
do?”

Caught off guard, I stammered, “I…uh…I’m sorry, what?”

She inclined her head towards the CD player, where I had Sarah McLachlan’s “Wintersong” playing over and over again. “Seems to me, that’s a song of heartbreak,” she stated knowingly.

I sighed heavily. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Did he cheat on you?”

“No,” I answered a bit appalled. “Why would you ask me that?”

She ignored my question and persisted, “Did he take your money? Shoot your dog? Call your mother an unforgivable name?”

I shook my head as I half-smiled. “No, none of those things.”

“Well then, apparently he
can
be forgiven. Or, oh my, did he hurt you?” she gasped. “Hurt someone else you love beyond repair?”

“No. He hasn’t harmed anyone, even me,” I clarified, “At least, not physically.”

“I see. Will you make peace with him by Christmas?”

The tears began to trickle down my cheeks. “I don’t think so. You see, I’m the one who
left
him.”

“Hm-mm, I gathered that. Do you love him?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Doesn’t matter how much I love him, he can’t reciprocate.”

“Ahhh, now it’s becoming clear.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb over her bottom lip, as if deep in thought. After a beat, she inquired, “Do you know that for sure?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” I wrung my hands, knowing, I really didn’t want to expound on the subject.

She continued her inquisition, “So you’ve talked it over, and that was his confession.”

“Not exactly,” I apprised, “It’s very complicated.”

“Well, maybe, I can help uncomplicate the situation.”

I bit my lip and then confessed, “I wish you could.”

She stood and grasped my hands. “Don’t give up on love, Aimee. It’s too priceless a gift to just throw away.”

I gave her a watery smile. “If only that were true, Nan. Seems more and more people are willing to toss it aside instead of fight for it. But sometimes, even when you’ve fought, you lose,” I admitted.

“It’s just a battle, dear,” she countered. “There’s still a war to be won.”

Now how did I argue with that?!

She walked to the door and opened it. Over her shoulder she called, “I’ll be by in the morning.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why?”

“Church, of course. Tomorrow is Christmas, after all.”

Oh, no! How did I tell her that church and a former call girl did not mix? Though lightning hadn’t struck me down at my wedding, hence, I figured I would be safe. So reluctantly I accepted, “I’ll be ready.”

She grinned, “Good. See you then.”

The door closed behind her, and all I thought was,
what in the world have I gotten myself into?

Still, I couldn’t believe I had somehow forgotten the next day was Christmas. Under normal circumstances, it was my favorite day of the year. And I was more than thankful I’d had the presence of mind during my stealth departure from San Francisco to mail my parents a Christmas card with a little note, so they wouldn’t worry. With those morose emotions churning inside me, I curled up by the fire, and, once again, let the tears fall.

*****

The next morning was clear and cold. Grateful for the body heat in the little church that was not even a mile away from my cabin. Nan sat and held my hand as we listened to the service together. She didn’t let go when we stood and sang old Christmas songs. Yes, she was a bit off key, but I liked how she sang for the joy of the Lord, not for others. I knew I needed to remember that—this was between myself and God, no one else—as I realized it was time to repent and make peace with my past. Nothing I could do would ever undo the choices I had made. But somewhere down the road, there would be beauty from the ashes. For that, I was positive.

After service Nan invited me over for Christmas lunch, and I gladly accepted. I had to smile at the Big Band music playing over the old stereo system. It was then that I heard her story: “You know, Aimee. I lost my husband nearly fifty years ago, and I still miss him like it was yesterday.”

I swallowed hard; this must be how Nik felt about Rachel. “I’m so sorry, Nan.”

“No, don’t be. We had a beautiful love that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

I inquired, “How long were you married?”

“Ten short, yet amazingly joyous, years.”

“And you never remarried?” I hoped I wasn’t being too presumptuous.

“When you’ve had the
best
, there’s no need to.”

Huh, I wondered what that meant for Nik. Then, I was thrown for a loop when Julie London began to sing “I Left My Heart in San Francisco.” I had to excuse myself and take a walk out on her front porch. Sure, I knew the song wasn’t about the lost love between a woman and a man; still, it resonated deep in my soul. Could a heart possibly break anymore? Not to mention, my eyes burned from all the darn crying I had been doing lately. How I still had tears was a conundrum!

When I reentered her cabin, I proceeded to tell her about Nik and Rachel, along with how I couldn’t live in
her
shadow. Nan surprised me when she slammed her wrinkled fist down on the table. “That’s a copout!”

Excuse me?! Just who did she think she was? “I beg your pardon?” Astonishment coated my voice, for I was taken aback.

“You love him. Therefore, you fight for
him
and for
you
.”

“How do you suppose I battle a ghost?”

“Show him you’re alive and well—a flesh and bone woman worthy of his devotion, as well as his love.”

“But…?”

“No, Aimee. There’s no but when it comes to true love.” She held her hand up to silence me. “You see, love is the greatest gift of all. It doesn’t die or go away. Not true love, no, now that is eternal. It only knows to fight, to hold on and sacrifice daily.”

“While I hear you loud and clear, what if the other person doesn’t see it that way?”

“Then it wasn’t true. Love is action, not pretty words.” She gave me an all-knowing wink. “Though pretty words are nice, and they make us feel special, even cherished.”

Well, I couldn’t deny that. “Nik isn’t a man of many words, Nan.”

“Taciturn. Yes, my dear, sweet Clive was the same. But he had his moments of real romance.” She beamed at the memories I could tell were floating through her mind.

“What do you think I should do?”

“I’ve already answered that for you,” she explained.

“Fight?” I replied.

“Yes. With
all
you have.”

I stood and began to pace. “How?”

She tried to stand up, but lost her footing, and fell back into the chair with a huff. I went to assist her. While she held eye contact with me, she imparted, “Stinks getting old.” I smiled, but didn’t reply. “Thank you for your help, dear. Now to answer your question: you
know
your husband. Only
you
know what’s needed in your arsenal.”

Once I knew she was all right, I let go and grabbed my coat. I nodded with a determined set to my jaw. “You’re right. I do know.”

I bent over and hugged her tight. “I don’t know when I’ll be back to see you again. Will you be okay?”

She squeezed my hand. “Aimee, you’re a smart girl. Surely you know, I won’t be around much longer,” she stated matter-of-factly.

As I pulled her close, I begged, “Please. Don’t talk like that.”

She looked up as she tenderly wiped the tears from my face. “Dying is a part of living. Besides, I’m ready to go
home.
”

I held back the sob and then confessed, “I hope I see you again here on earth before you go. I know it sounds selfish, but that’s how I feel.”

She kissed my cheek. “Sweet, sweet girl, I’ll see you again. Don’t you worry about me. You have a man and love to
fight
for.”

I smiled as I took my leave. I knew now what I had to do. It was time to get some answers, or as Nan would say, “load my weapons.” No, I wasn’t going to let this be the end of Nik’s and my story.

*****

Before I could head back to California, I was awakened by the local sheriff. It seemed Nan had passed away in her sleep that night. I stayed for the little funeral, and was gladdened to meet so many people Nan had touched. Lives changed for the better. Although her children had passed away years ago, she managed to stay encouraging and helpful to others. I instantly recognized how the good Lord had used her in a mighty way. My life would never be the same after having the privilege of meeting her. And I could rest assured, she was singing with the angels at that very moment. She was right, I would see her again. My last words to her were from Mathew 25:21. I bent over the casket and whispered, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” before I kissed her cold cheek. Then silently I prayed,
Lord, no matter the outcome, please, help me to remember you can still use me to serve others.

*****

As I entered the town of Eldon to gas up the old truck I had bought, I thought I recognized the man in sunglasses and ball cap. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve sworn he was one of Caleb’s goons. No, surely, I was mistaken! Yet when I pulled back out onto the highway, there was no disillusionment I was being followed. Well, crap! I guess Caleb hadn’t given up on me, after all. Fine. I knew this area like the back of my hand. Confident I would lose the spy in no time. Afterwards, I headed to Lake Tahoe to find the answers to all my questions about Nik and his past.

For better or for worse.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Aimee

The first stop I made, once I reached South Lake Tahoe, was the court house. Nik had paid a lot of money to make sure his information stayed private and off the internet. I was positive he had made sure his offers were grander than what someone could make over disclosing the case. Although, no matter what, the fact remained it was a matter of public record. And I was bound and determined to find what I quested for. Going through case after case from nearly fifteen years ago, was a daunting task. I eventually came upon what I had been searching for; though, there was no victory dance in what I discovered that day. Also, there was no doubt my husband was a very wounded man. Not that I hadn’t already known this, yet somehow, seeing it in black and white made it all too clear.

As my heart broke for him, I read every line word for word. He was too damn young—only nineteen-years-old—to have gone through such a tragedy. And I confess, I was pissed off at the system for charging and convicting him
.
The knowledge that it happened every day to so many people didn’t quash my anger. Yet, there it was written for anyone to see: sentenced to three years for involuntary vehicular manslaughter. I learned he only served a little over a year of that sentence. Still, I didn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone said to me about the incident. It. Was. An. Accident. But according to the police report, he was driving too fast for conditions. Though it was noted he complained of “having no brakes,” but I couldn’t find any documentation on the car itself to verify his claim. Odd.