Savannah struggled with a smile of her own. "You'll be real surprised, Daddy."
Jack set down his ax. "All right, then. See you soon."
Tess let her grin loose. "Great. 'Bye."
" 'Bye, Daddy," the girls said together.
Jack frowned at them. " 'Bye." The word came out in a slow, confused drawl, as if he suddenly suspected something very strange was going on.
It is, Jack, Tess thought. Welcome to fatherhood.
"Come on, girls," she said, "let's go." With a quick wave, Tess and the children took off through the hilly pasture at a run.
Jack watched them run through the tall grass and crawl under the fence at the far end of the field. The carefree sound of their giggling peppered the cool spring air.
Curling his thumbs around his fraying red suspenders,
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he strode purposefully to the house. His bootheels drove deeply into the dirt road, crunching over pebbles with each step. He passed the shady oak tree and climbed the porch
steps. He hadn't even opened the back door when he heard
crying.
Jack's step slowed. Dread, as cold as ice water, spilled down his back and made him tremble. No, he thought desperately. She wouldn't have done that to me. She wouldn't
have ...
Cautiously he opened the door. High, bleating screams
echoed through the house.
"Oh, my God." Jack spun around and bounded down the steps, racing down the dirt road. "Lissa!" He screamed her name, but the sound was lost within seconds, vanished in the breeze. There was no answer.
He shot a frightened look back at the house. Even from
here, he could hear the reed-thin echo of Caleb's crying.
Jack's hands curled into shaking fists. Panic rushed
through him and made his breathing speed up. Oh, God,
oh, God, oh, God?
"Stop it," he yelled at himself. Slowly, one breath at a time, he forced himself to calm down. He squeezed his eyes shut. You asked God?and Lissa?for a new start. This is it. Don't be such a goddamn coward.
He lifted his head and looked back at the house. The plaintive echo of Caleb's wail rode the breeze and beckoned Jack. There was no one else to help the baby.
His son.
Swallowing a thick, acrid lump of fear, he forced himself to return to the house. The door creaked open and banged shut behind him. He felt another surge of fear.
What if he hurt him? What if he had a blackout? What if?
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"Enough." Lifting his chin, he crammed his fists against his thighs and walked slowly toward his wife's bedroom.
He pushed open the closed door and stood in the doorway. Through the slats of the cradle he'd made, he could see Caleb's tiny body writhing, his small fists batting at the air. The blue blanket was a twisted heap along his side.
Jack tried to move, but couldn't. Fear and dread immobilized him. He was afraid, desperately afraid, to reach out to this child?his own son?and try.
The realization made him sick. His stomach twisted into a knot. He was such a coward, such a goddamn useless coward.
Caleb sucked in a shuddering breath, and there was a moment of blissful silence.
Jack's own breathing stumbled. Maybe he wouldn't have to move, maybe?
Then Caleb started up again. This time his cry was a high-pitched, quavering wail that pinged down every vertebra in Jack's tightened spine.
He's afraid, too.
The thought came out of nowhere. He tried to talk himself out of it, tried to tell himself the baby was hungry or sleepy or just plain mad, and that he couldn't possibly know what the hell his son was feeling. None of the feeble explanations made any difference.
He couldn't make himself believe them. Your son is alone and he's afraid. He needs you.
"Not me," he whispered. "He needs a father. Not some broken-down shell ..."
You're all he's got.
He moved hesitantly forward. With each step a noose seemed to tighten around his throat. By the time he reached the cradle, Jack was trembling and couldn't breathe worth shit.
Shakily he kneeled. "Hi, fella, what's the matter?"
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Caleb cried harder.
Jack edged closer and reached over the wooden railing, touching his son's tear-moistened face. "There, there."
Jack felt like an idiot. His voice was thick with emotion, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say. What the hell good was "there, there" to a baby who wanted to be
comforted?
Cautiously he let his fingers slide under Caleb's tiny back and curl soothingly under his arm. The warm contact seemed to have some effect. Caleb hiccuped loudly and drew in a shaky breath. His tiny fists unfurled.
A tiny thread of hope crept through Jack's fear. He brought his other hand to the cradle and gently picked Caleb up.
Caleb blinked up at him in surprise. Huge, quivering
tears clung to his tiny lashes.
Jack stared down at the small, beet red face and felt a fierce wave of love. He pressed the baby tightly against his chest, and walked slowly to the bed.
He sat down with a sigh of relief. He hadn't dropped
Caleb. Thank God.
When his heart stopped racing, he stretched out on the soft tick and let his iron-hard hold ease. Caleb lay quietly on Jack's chest, his murky blue-gray eyes fixed on Jack's
face.
He's knows, Jack thought tiredly. He knows what a feeble excuse for a father I am.
Then Caleb yawned and blinked heavily. His eyelids fluttered shut. With a final sputtering sound, he pushed his thumb in his mouth and laid his head on Jack's chest. He was asleep in moments.
Jack lay there, stiff as a knife blade, afraid to move lest he disturb the sleeping baby. He stared in awe at the small, black-haired head pressed so trustingly against his chest. An odd sense of peace slid through Jack's body as he
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watched his son sleep. Without thinking, he brought his hand up and stroked Caleb's soft cheek.
He doesn't know, Jack thought suddenly. Caleb had no idea his daddy was a coward, and a crazy one at that. He didn't know Jack wasn't worthy of unconditional love. He knew only that without his parents, he was alone.
Try.
That's all Lissa had asked of Jack. That he try. Try to be a father, try to express his love for his children.
He wanted to. Christ, how he wanted to. But he was afraid. What if he tried and failed? Wasn't that worse than not trying at all? Better to be no parent, as his own father had been, than to be a father who hurt his children....
Try.
Don't do it. You'll fail. You'll hurt them all.
Of course he'd fail?that was a given. He'd failed at everything he'd ever tried.
They deserve better, Jack. He glanced down at Caleb, and this time it was Jack's eyes that filled with burning tears. Emotion curled around his heart and squeezed so hard, his whole body ached.
He swallowed thickly, tasting the metallic aftertaste of tears. He owed them a father who at least tried.
The way it was now, he was being the father he'd been taught to be. The realization sickened and shamed him. Hadn't he sworn not to extend the circle of pain begun by his own self-centered, silently cruel, unforgiving parents?
Hadn't he and Johnny sworn it together?
Johnny.
Jack let out his breath in a pain-filled sigh. He and Johnny had sworn to be good, loving parents. But Johnny never had the chance to fulfill that vow.
Jack had the chance, but he'd thrown it away. He was so afraid of failing, he'd never let himself even try. In church he'd vowed to make a new beginning.
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Don't be afraid. Be a man. For once, be a man....
"Please, God," he murmured, "show me the way. Show me what to do...."
He closed his eyes and prayed. And for the first time in many, many years, he was absolutely certain someone was lis
tening.
Jack woke to the sound of laughter. He blinked sleepily and pushed up to one elbow, careful not to disturb Caleb, who was still sleeping peacefully against Jack's chest. He cradled the baby in his arms, staring down at his son's perfect, innocent face.
There was the sound of feet thumping down the hallway, then Katie burst breathlessly into the bedroom. "Hi, Daddy!" she said with a gap-toothed grin. "We got somethin' for you."
Savannah came up behind her sister, and she, too, was smiling broadly.
Jack lifted one eyebrow derisively. "Another surprise?"
Katie's smile fell, and Jack immediately cursed his thoughtless sarcasm. He forced a smile. "If it's half as good as the last one, I'll be happy."
Katie grinned again. "It is, really and truly."
She and Savannah hurried to his bedside. "Don't look, Daddy; close your eyes."
Jack did as he was told. He heard the rattling clank of little hands pawing through half-empty buckets.
"Okay," Savannah said, "open your eyes."
Jack opened his eyes and found himself staring at four shallow, wooden-framed boxes that were lined carefully against the foot of the bed. Each box had a pressed, perfect-looking flower fastened to its slatted back, and beneath each flower was a single word. Together they read: Happy Father's Day, Daddy.
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^
Jack's throat closed up. Emotion rendered him speechless.
"Happy Father's Day, Jack," Lissa said quietly from the doorway.
Jack turned to look at her, and immediately felt as if he'd been punched in the heart. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was a leaf-and-twig-infested curtain of honey gold that slid down her arms and curled against her hip. Her pale skin had been darkened to a peachy pink by the warm sun, and her full mouth was curved in a heartbreaking smile.
He swallowed thickly. "What's Father's Day?" A frown passed across her brow, then disappeared. "Oh. I guess I just invented it. It's supposed to be in June sometime, but I figured May was close enough." She smiled. "It's a day to tell your father how much he means to you. How ... much you love him." "Daddy? Are you okay?" Savannah asked quietly. Daddy. The word twisted Jack's heart. He hadn't been much of one to her?probably couldn't be if he tried. But he was sick and tired of pretending not to care. Tired of living in an isolated, lonely world full of aching silences and wrenching regrets.
Don't do it. You'll fail. At the thought, Jack felt a rush of fear. It was easier somehow to be a father to Caleb; he was an infant. Caleb wouldn't know for years if his father had failed. Even Katydid might not notice, but Savannah was different. She was older, wiser. She'd see. She'd know he'd tried to be something he couldn't. She'd know he failed, and the failure would break both their hearts. / won't fail.
But this time the words didn't matter. Maybe he would fail, he thought tiredly, and maybe he wouldn't. But one thing he knew for sure?had always known?was that not trying was the biggest failure of all.
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Enough was enough, he decided. God had given him this chance for a new beginning?given it to all of them. And Jack wouldn't run away this time. He wouldn't be a coward again.
He turned slightly and gave Savannah a bright, love-filled smile. "I'm fine. Now, why don't you two climb on up here and tell me how you made these wonderful
boxes."
Savannah and Katie clambered on either side of him, sitting close, and began animatedly talking about flower picking and pressing.
Jack felt as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from his back. A warm sensation began in the pit of his stomach and spilled outward, radiating a sense of peace throughout his body. Tentatively he curled an arm around each girl's shoulder. Savannah and Katie immediately snuggled closer.
He laughed at something Katie said and looked up.
Lissa was still standing in the doorway, looking at him. Tears magnified her eyes. He was somehow certain that she knew how hard today had been. And that she was proud of him for making the effort.
Love for her washed through him in an overwhelming wave. "Thanks," he mouthed.
Eyes sparkling, she smiled. Then, plucking up her burr-dotted skirts, she came over and climbed up onto the bed, gently drawing Caleb into her arms. Savannah moved over to make room for her. Katie snuggled closer on Jack's lap. As his loved ones came closer, clustered around him, Jack felt the most powerful emotion he'd ever felt in his
life.
For the first time ever, they were a family.
Chapter Eighteen
That night, Tess sat on the swing, her fingers curled loosely around the rough ropes, and swung very slowly, letting her bare feet drag on the cold, dark earth.
She closed her eyes. The sounds of the night mesmerized her. The distant, echoing whoosh of the sea on the rocks and sand below, the airy cant of an early evening breeze, the shuffling movement of sheep settling down for the night.
She didn't take a single sound for granted; instead she focused on them one at a time, marveling in them all and the miracle it took for her to hear them.
"Lissa?"
Tess snapped upright and saw him standing on the porch, a tall, black shadow against the charcoal gray of the house.
Just looking at him made her heart speed up, her throat go dry. His name slipped from her lips and was lost in the breeze. Her fingers tightened around the scratchy rope.
"I ..." He moved, his footsteps a quiet thudding across the wooden porch. Then he stopped. "I'm going to bed."
Take me with you. Tess swallowed hard, trying to still her racing heart. "Why are you telling me?"
It took him forever to answer. Tess leaned forward, waiting. Ask me, Jack. Just hold out your hand to me....
"I wanted to say good night." 241
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"Oh." Tess's hands unfurled, slid down the ropes, and landed in her lap. "Good night."
He stood there for a while longer. Tess felt his gaze on her and knew he was trying to summon the courage to stay. Perhaps even to come closer.
"Well ... good night." He turned and disappeared into the house. The door creaked quietly shut behind him.
Tess let out her breath in a disappointed sigh. Standing, she hugged herself and walked idly around the tree. Tiny pebbles clung to her bare feet as she wandered across the dirt road and headed into the grass. Thin, swaying stalks
tickled her ankles.
She stared at Haro Strait far below, its shimmering gray-black surface streaked by a single, wobbling finger of blue-white moonlight. Stars danced like fallen diamond chips across the night sky.
She knew what she wanted to do right now, but she was afraid. The realization irritated the hell out of her. Never in her life had she been a coward, and yet now, faced with the greatest opportunity of her life, she was skulking outside like a frightened kitten. Waiting.
It didn't make sense. Adversity had always spurred her to accept greater and greater challenges. When they told her a deaf girl couldn't be a doctor, she proved them wrong; when they told her she might be able to get an education, but she'd never be able to find employment, she proved them wrong again; and when they'd told her cancer didn't have a cure, she'd dedicated her life to changing
that.
But somehow all of those challenges paled in comparison to this one. Then, she'd risked being laughed at or, at worst, failing where few had ever succeeded. Here, with Jack, she was risking something greater, something infinitely more precious.
Her chance to belong.
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What if he laughed at her, or turned her away? What if all the loving glances and quiet smiles were in her mind, a figment of her own love-starved imagination?
Then you'll get hurt. The answer came as easily as the question. Surprisingly, it calmed her down.
She'd been hurt before, and she'd always survived. If the worst happened tonight and Jack rejected her, she'd get over that, too.
Someone had to take a chance here; that much was obvious. Bot
h she and Jack were desperately afraid of being hurt, and they were both immobilized by that fear.
No more, Tess decided suddenly. She had a chance here?a chance she'd waited for all her life. A chance she'd died to find. And she wasn't going to throw it away because of a few fluttery nerves and old anxieties.
If Jack rejected her, she'd simply wait for another opportunity and try again. And again and again and again. Jack was her future, her destiny, and she wasn't about to walk away from him.
Jack sat stiff as a board on the sofa, the blanket thrown haphazardly across his knees, his hands coiled in his lap.
The house was still and quiet. Every now and then a breeze rattled the windowpane behind him, but other than that transient noise and the quickened tenor of his breathing, the place was silent. In the kitchen a lone candle sat on the table, its glow splashing across the white tablecloth.
Then he heard it. The doorknob was turning.
Jack's heart picked up speed, thudded in his ears. The door squeaked and whined, then clicked shut.
Lissa picked up the candle and moved toward him. Wreathed in pale, golden candlelight, she looked like an angel. Honey-hued hair curled riotously across her brow and hung in undulating waves along her arms. Her eyes, an even deeper brown in the uncertain light, glowed like
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I
pools of promise against the creamy oval of her face. The white eyelet of her stand-up collar looked fragile against the curve of her neck. "Jack?"
He tensed. "Yeah?" "I've made a decision." "Should I ask?"
She came toward him. As she got closer, he could see that she was smiling, a soft, beguiling smile that made his breathing speed up even more. "Probably not."
She set her candle on the table in front of him. The metal holder clanked down hard. Light spilled across the scarred wooden surface and cast the area between them in pale gold. Straightening, she stared down at him. For a second, he thought she was going to come closer.
He tensed. But she didn't move. She just stood there, hair cascading in a golden waterfall around her face, hands clasped at her waist, staring down at him.
His throat felt so dry, it was difficult to speak. "W-What do you want?"